ORIGIN

The open-mouthed, expectant grin on Fahl’s face wavered, lips inching closer together and threatening to form a tight line of disappointment. A rather unwarranted reaction on his end, as what else could he expect in response when Imp had to rely upon senses other than sight? Guilt gnawed at his stomach with needle teeth at the thought. There’d still been praise, after all, and surely that should be enough. But something—greed or another desire entirely—continued to form a hollow within him.

None of this he voiced. Under heavy focus, magic blossomed and expanded out from his burdensome stone. Its sensation, ever indefinable, writhed over teeth and tongue alike. On an exhale, it billowed outward, direction manipulated so that it might settle like an invisible cloak over soggy feathers. He breathed in, and cool water droplets grew ever so slightly lukewarm. Although outside of his original intention to dry, it remained his attempt at kind repayment for the lesson.

“Plenty good,” he assured. “That’s bound to be really… life-saving shit.”

Fahl paused, then, considering what else he could ask of. Fighting a big bad? Check. In cold places? He was fire; there’d be no trouble there. Maybe…

Darkness. Yes, that sounded like a topic to cover. And who better to ask than someone who now lived in it?

“It’s supposed to be dark down there. Can’t see a thing dark. How can I hurt when I… can’t tell where the fighting’s at?”

At first, he only listened. The occasional snort or sniffle punctuated the silence. Advice was initially taken under an unmoving mask, unknown thoughts swimming beneath it. But as Imp's words drew to a close, a twitch began at the tail tip. It spread, and the entire tail then swung into a lash over the ground, snapping with the force of his outburst.

"I—I won't!" Vision blurred, the shake of his head as violent and quivering as the tension that gripped his shoulders. Agitation compelled claws to scrape over stone while he paced about. "Dumb's for losers and..." He huffed and grappled for more to say, the defensive flare of temper having run its course in moments. "And fish. Slow, slimy, stupid... fish."

Exhaustion dragged him into a slump where he stood. At a loss for much else, Fahl defaulted to his first statement, delivery somewhat pathetic and dull despite the insistence. "I won't. No way."

"It's not like I'm going to... be the only one there." At least, he hoped not. "Others. They'll have light." This, also, was spoken as a wish more so than a certainty. While he had seen that large bellowing sea creature demonstrate such, whether that floating wisp, unlike fire, defied extinguishment was not guaranteed. "This is more for... insurance. In case I can't rely on them."

Throughout this brief turmoil, eyes firmly avoided staring at Imp, aimed downward at fidgeting toes. Now, though, they lifted. Confusion was held in their squint.

"You see blood?" That didn't add up at all. Plant magic meant plants. Water magic meant water. Apply the same thought process to fire, and the answer should have been obvious. "Two magic types instead of one. That a family thing?"

Fahl strained imagination, tried to see red in place of feathers. It didn't seem to work, not unless the steady, throbbing pulse of his skull promised more than a self-induced headache.

Perhaps it wouldn't be amiss to claim that Fahl possessed far too much faith in his teacher, as the denial of magical expertise tossed his head back. Face lifted ceilingward, a mixture between a hiss and chuckle bubbled up from his throat. "Ain't an expert. Got it."

Voice ever flat, any disbelief remained trapped within thoughts. This extended even to Nemean; being tiny didn't contain the prickles of unease her existence induced. The elaborate tunnel setup—props, pitfalls, and all—loomed large in memory, and his murmured, "Yeah, I bet. She's a real shit-for-brains," was more out of solidarity than genuine agreement. He had no idea how much worse she could possibly get, but better to be worried about nothing than having his own eyes yanked out because he wasn't watchful enough for the two of them.

Dutiful, when Imp mentioned the spar, he'd clamped them swiftly shut. But as he was instead questioned, one opened, followed soon by the other. "Sure. The Blacksmith..."

It might've been the slow speech mannerisms or the hesitance he seemingly showed, but Fahl didn't see much to be concerned about. "Ehhhh. He's okay. Doesn't come across like the sort to, uh, steal eyes. Much less laugh about it. Might be a bit of pushover though."

"And Farina. Way he talked about her... sounds really pissed off. Don't know if that's all the time. Or just because she can't do the job herself. Not sure if lots of anger issues... is Nemean's type. Dumbass might not like a killjoy."

Under the flurry of questioning, Fahl tried to answer as best he could. With a slow tongue, the end result might not have quite matched the sentiment, ideas gradually mangled while he struggled to fully express them. "Yeah. Most I've got are... first impressions. Not much to go off of. But so far—not Nemean pals." He sucked in air, bolstering the effort to continue speech. "Blacksmith more than Farina. He's the one. In Leo. She's in Fornax. It's why I'm less sure of her. Didn't see. Only heard of. From him."

After this last statement, delivered through labored breaths, silence fell. It did not reign for long though. As soon as lungs received their first substantial fill of air, what could have been perceived as an almost desperate and pleading, "No," erupted.

"I mean..." Fahl averted his gaze briefly, abashed. "I don't. Need the help." A rather different thing from wanting it, but the iguana did not make this distinction. What he saw was dependence, clinging to someone older and better without proving his own mettle. "You're doing good, showing me... how to handle things. If you want to, though, that's fine. I guess."

Even as he spoke, loathing directed toward the awkward tumbling of syllables upon his tongue. It made him too uncertain, too feeble. Shut eyes snuffed out the spark of emotion as well as sight.

"We could try right now. Practice." Plunged into self-made darkness, boldness came easy; safety, after all, was only an opened eyelid away. "Hit me with your best shot, teach."

Funny how blindness was. Waves could be navigated well enough, body adapted to moving with and against them, but close his eyes on solid ground and he was completely adrift. Without sight and unused to relying upon hearing alone, sounds seemed both near and far, crashes and drips of water alternating between dancing atop his head and darting to the farthest imaginable reaches of the cave. As much as he tried to put them in their proper places, they continued to be elusive, slipping out of his grasp like minuscule fish.

Feathers rustled. Heavy running steps thudded over Pisces's stone floor. Fahl braced for impact, head jerking this way and that as he struggled to pinpoint the noises. They bounced around, but fortunately these were clear enough to be caught beneath his claws. Imp was... somewhere over there?

Maybe he was playing safe at first, letting his student get familiar before breaking out the real moves. Loosening his defensive stance, the iguana charged forward. While he wasn't supposed to hurt, a light headbutt couldn't be too bad of an opening attack. All he'd have to do was let up on his speed before hitting the target. Hopefully, if he knew where he was going.