Oliver was, in fact, present: asleep beneath a drift of leaves and twined ivy vines at the root of a tree not far off. He roused from sleep, blinking for a moment as he realized someone had called his name.

Groggy, he pushed out into the open, looking around and spotting Arsu. "Hello," he called softly, a moment before memory clicked into place. "Oh. I think-... I've seen you before," he said, and pushed up to brush the leaves from feathers and fur. "With your family? In Pisces. When Naskital came. Sorry--you're looking for me?" he added, and now drew closer, noting as he did Arsu's strangely melancholy demeanor. "I don't actually know your name, I think."

But he did remember the Gembound himself. Pride, Mercurius and their two children, visiting Naskital for gifts... caves, how long ago now-? It had to have been years.

Oliver blinked and shuffled forward. He was still half-asleep, but his attention went to the moonstone horn, and when he went to cradle it--to lift it and inspect it--Arsu didn't stop him.

But the heartbreak in the other's tone was clear, and he looked up with wrenching heart and an expression of deep sympathy. "I'm sorry," he said, quiet. He hesitated, and then decided against asking what had happened. "I know Venari, yes. She's good," he explained, though he didn't clarify or qualify that in any way. "She said I should--bring the stone to life?" He sounded thoughtful. "I've done it before. She's seen me do it--maybe that's why. I have... some kind of weird magic that I think... it's stronger than the usual one. But it means--it's draining," he explained. "I'll be in my chrysalis for a few days, after. You could stay here? Look after it. While it grows, but... Who did you want to raise it?" he asked.

He didn't even consider saying 'no.' His compulsion to help others was too great, but even without that madness trickling through him, his pity and sympathy were strong. Life was important; he couldn't bring back the dead, but having this stone lying here when it could be alive was... sad.

Oliver looked up, surprised. He sounded surprised, too. "Nothing." He hesitated. "Can I ask... why you didn't want to bring it back to life? Are you afraid it'll break?"

His tone was earnest, again, but curious and a little worried. He wanted to be sure he was the right choice, here, and this was a bit of a missing puzzle piece to him.

He settled back, lifting the moonstone horn and running paw-pads gently over it. He examined it, considering. He couldn't tell if it were still alive. He hoped it was, but he would hold off on that, for now.

Oliver nodded. "I think so," he answered quietly.

He said nothing to the explanation, though it tore at his heart. He understood fully and completely. He couldn't imagine his father coming back, only to be not-his-father at all. The Sentinel had been enough of a devastation in that regard: Black's stone, returned to life but different, similar but so far apart. "I sort of know what you mean," was all he said, gathering the stone up to his chest.

His magic curled outward, as he scooted back into the cover of the bushes. He felt it take, felt his life flow into it--more powerful than it should have been, draining him to the point of unconsciousness. The last thing he managed to do, and say, was to look up at Arsu, smiling weakly. "See you in a few days."

His magnolet-streaked onyx rose up to claim him; at the same time the moonstone tumbled gently from his grasp and rolled, before taking root on the rock below.

The two chrysalises--one gleaming white, and one star-streaked black--lay silent, leaving Arsu completely alone.