Yet again, he found that he was bitterly reminiscing of the halycon days of youth. A time when he simply knew only Beast because he was the sharp-toothed monster lurking within the shadowed reverie. Even after—21 cycles, was it? He had stopped counting in the lull—all this time, he still found ichorous threads manifesting at mere whim. Fervently, he tried to cast his light out, a familiar warmth to dispel the darkness lurking in his breast. It barely flew from the pole, fireline lazily bobbing in the wind as it was thrown. Nonetheless, it was something. In age, he still hadn't improved in casting his gentle glow. How could he, without his gracious teacher? Mercurius felt the magicka drain about his paws, wasted as it dissipated into the woodwork. He traced only its eager search for its source, the Spire. Then, it faded entirely.

Leaving him cold, tired, alone.

Mercurius sighed, laconically eying the matrices of the starlit vault's gates. Without keeping its bastards from swarming, it managed to stay pristine as ever. Only a modicum of dust had settled within its eloquent curves. Seeking residence in nooks and crannies invisible to the naked eye. Almost as if it had only been a few cycles since he last found a will and a way to Orion. The stars and the garden threatened him. He did not want to find himself with celestial lights in his eyes or plants placing chaste kisses at his hocks. Yet, here he stood, fondling the fine line between the sheer cliff and jagged precipices looming below. It paralyzed him, leaving him a porcelain statue with shoulders drawn up and paw outstretched. Was it too early?

Zevruu was still tired from casting multiple spells, and then making a quick dash out of Eridanus, but he didn't want to stay in there. There was a fire, and he'd very much rather stay out. It had been time for his return to Orion, anyway. He wasn't sure if he'd ever leave his home again. He liked the familiarity of the starry place.

Approaching the entrance to Orion, a sight stopped him. A large animal, feline, though of a different type than him. White fur, like that of snow that he had seen in few caves. A gem sat atop his head, sticking out like horns. The gembound seemed tired, and it was clear that he had lived here a while. How interesting. Within the span of a few days - or so it seemed - he had met two who had been in these caves for a while. Longer than him, perhaps. It was always hard to tell.

He watched the feline, eyes narrowed. What was it doing? He walked a little closer, and then sat down, not far away. He observed it for a moment before speaking. "Hello. Who are you?" He punctuated his words with a slight head tilt, eyes still raking over the white feline.

"Speech" l 'Thoughts' | @Mercurius

The reverie, deathly pools of nothing but acrid-smelling pitch, was choking him. He forgot to breathe, lungs suffocating beneath the spindly fingers of the past rushing to meet him. A welcome deviation from the reminisence—something real, he realized—broke the tar pits. They melted into frigid waters, snapping him awake in momentous seconds. Mercurius turned abruptly, neck protesting softly in the swift motion. Eyes caught like a deer in hea—no, not that. Eyebrows quirked for a moment, he put his hovering paw down gently. Adjusting himself to face the stranger, an ear flicked amicably. "Hello," fellow Sharp-tooth, he would've demanded he say, "a wanderer, Mercurius, I suppose." One would think they'd be far more confident in his name. It was unfamiliar to him. Not derogatory. In a vote of confidence, he tried to muster his glow once more.

"How about you?" Plopping down onto sore haunches, he hissed a soft sigh at the current of pain shooting upwards. His tail flicked awkwardly into place, wrapped tightly about his pristine white paws for the briefest moment. It relaxed into a lazy loop, barely grazing sheathed claws. Cycles after her, he still found storytelling to be a distraction from the troubles of simply existing. Eyes traced the jacinth stone adorning his shoulder, a pauldron in the shape of the familiar Spire. "I can see the age on your stone," he murmured softly, "what's your story?" It wasn't often he found the original few generations, plentiful as they had been. The caves had a funny way of making them disappear. Almost as if they swallowed them where they stood without retribution. It was the best he could do to assauge the rising loneliness he felt without 'ancient' folk to commiserate with.

@Zevruu

The white feline turned to face him, setting their paw down. Zevruu watches, not looking away for a moment. As he spoke, the serval flicked an ear. He seemed uncertain, a little hesitant, in saying his name. Surely a gembound of that age would know their own name? Had something changed? Had they forgotten it? Despite the questions bubbling up, they didn't voice them. After they spoke, a glow came about them, much like one of his own spells.

"I am Zevruu." His voice was confident, with not a lick of uncertainty. He watched as Mercurius got more comfortable, sitting with his tail wrapped around his paws. His tail, short as it is, wasn't long enough to go around his own paws.

As he spoke again, Zevruu's eyes trailed to his shoulder, where his gem sat. They flicked back up at his next words. Story? He didn't really have a story. He emerged, met a few other gembounds, and traveled. That was really all there was. He'd done nothing worthwhile in these caves. Something told him the other didn't want that, though. Was there anything interesting he could possibly tell? Anything interesting that may have happened would have been cycles ago. He couldn't remember that far back.

Sighing, he shook his head lightly, looking down. "I'm afraid I don't have much of a story. I've emerged into these caves - Orion, to be exact - cycles ago, and I've traveled. I've met other gembounds, some more than once, but that's really all there is." Hopefully that, little as it is, would be enough.

"Speech" l 'Thoughts' | @Mercurius

With a flick of the metaphorical wrist, his glowing aura was sustained. No need to let himself go dim, not like her. Visibly, he relaxed, confidence quelling the insecurity in his voice to come. "Zevruu," he offered gently, murmuring the name to remember it. He's been forgetting names and faces lately. Perhaps it was that lack of stimulation and interaction striking yet again. He had yet to see anyone familiar, he demurred. It had been too long since then.

The uncertainty in the serval's voice as he told his story told it all. Ashamed of the normalcy he had led. "I'm certain it's far more eventful than you're saying it is," Mercurius mumured offhandedly—a name in the stranger's story stuck out. A pinprick of light against the black. "Do you remember the stag?" In that time—by the Spire was he shaking—he hadn't seen any others like him (save for Bartos and his children.) Nothing but a festering nest of bastards seeking to dull the fangs of others unlike them. Thinking about it made him nauseous, but he absolutely had to know. He had had long enough to lick those wounds and let them scar over. Knowledge—for the stories—was more important. How far had the reign stretched? Was he dead? He hadn't been around to see him burn.

Bile rose in his throat.

@Zevruu

Zevruu chuckled lightly. Eventful. Sure. His life was about as normal as...some incredibly normal thing. He would say as normal as the lights being on but that wasn't always the case. He briefly wondered if Mercurius had been awake then, or if he had retreated to his chrysalis. He recalled seeing some that were much bigger than a newly hatched gembound's would be. Now that the caves were active again and the lights on - as they had been for some time - he hadn't seen nearly as many.

As the feline spoke again, he flicked an ear. Stag? He didn't recall seeing a stag. It was possibly he'd seen the stag before, but he didn't remember ever seeing one. He generally had an idea of what the gembounds he'd seen looked like. A fuzzy image, perhaps. None seemed similar to a stag. "I-I...don't believe I've seen a stag." The hesitation. The stutter. He quietly cursed at himself - it was back. He'd spent so long trying to get rid of it. There was no way he'd let it come back.

"I would say sorry but something tells me that isn't necessarily something to be sorry for," he murmured, watching Mercurius. He noted he was shaking slightly, and purposefully ignored it. His eyes continued to stray over the other, though he said nothing more.



"Speech" l 'Thoughts' | @Mercurius

Mercurius should have found affirmation in those hushed words. Hehad been dead and gone or stranger had stayed far from Orion. Instead, he found subtle anxiety clawing up his ribcage, writhing beneath his skin. It took him a moment to realize if was his heart, beating out of rhythm, out of time. Pounding against its cage. Crying out to be free. "It's alright—rather, it's best if you didn't remember a stag," he murmured through the din in his chest. Trying to quell his rapidly beating heart, he focused on the light.

Unfortunately, the caves would not have it.

Abruptly, the glow receded. Dazzling light cut sharply, a sickening crack! resounding from twin peaks. Unsheathed claws reached up for his head, grazing the white-hot surface briefly. It was as he drew his paws down and found them only slightly shadowed at he edged fearfully towards one of the lightbulbs on the wall. "S-sorry," he almost whinnied. He tried to still his rapidly beating heart. It was a resounding not-success.

@Zevruu

Zevruu flicked an ear. "I assumed it better that I hadn't." He continued watching, noting that something seemed...off. Mercurius was acting different. He didn't know what it was, and decided to pay no mind to it. He was about to speak when a sound resounded from the twin peaks. Blinking, ears lowered in alarm, he watched the white feline.

"I-it's alright. I have some light spells, let me try one." He had just finished casting just about all of his spells not long ago. He could only hope he would be able to do it again. He focused within himself, trying to do a different spell than Mercurius had done. It took some time, but soon a ball of light appeared. He focused on it, making sure it wouldn't go away, before turning to Mercurius and smiling slightly. The orb was still in his sights, though it was rather faint.

"Speech" l 'Thoughts' | @Mercurius

At first, the light had been subtle, a lantern conjured seemingly out of nothingness. It only brightened a little with more effort, but Mercurius could not be happier to find another denizen of the light. He couldn't be more afraid—not only could they create light, but they could take it away. Even knowing this, Mercurius fervently clung to the orb, following it as it ebbed about. "Thank you," he murmured, reaching out to the orb to pull it closer to himself. Then, with a sigh, he admitted to his fault, "I'm terrified of the darkness—I usually wouldn't tell a stranger this."

He took a moment, recuperating his magicka. He just had to focus more and improve. Improvement came with honed focus. But for now, for this miniscule gift, he'd have to make an offer. Mercurius lifted his head from the little firefly, gazing into golden eyes. "Would you like to hear a story? It's a gift, however pathetic it is, in return for giving me light."

@Zevruu

Zevruu made sure to keep his eye on the light, especially as Mercurius admitted that he was afraid of the dark. He focused more on the light, desperate to make it stay. Even if it did go away, he could do it again. Maybe it would be a stronger light. Or maybe it wouldn't work at all. He knew very well how long some spells could take.

He had to admit, he was a little shocked to find that Mercurius was terrified of the dark. He himself rather liked it - no one could see him, and he could still see slightly from his own glow and spells. Plus, it always gave him time to practice, able to see his spells even better.

As he spoke, Zevruu looked away slightly from the orb, still keeping it within sight. A story? He's never really been one for stories, but it certainly couldn't hurt. "Sure," he murmured, gaze turning back to the orb as it slowly went away. With his gaze back on it, it came back, as strong as it was before.

"Speech" l 'Thoughts' | @Mercurius