[Semele's Cavern] Peace and Qui- Nevermind (Zeran)

[Arysana]

"Speech" | 'Thoughts' | Winter 20, 513 AV Semele's Cavern. It seemed, for the most part, what she'd heard thus far. In terms of trying to find the blighted place, that was. 'Leave a bell before noon, you should be fine,' they told her, 'Just follow the map and you should be fine.' Right, a woman who apparently couldn't climb a tree, and wasn't trusted merely following a well worn trail, was supposed to be adept at reading a map that was hastily drawn with the weird smelling ink of Towers' Respite's libraries. Oh, and don't even start her about the snow. She wasn't nearly as bad as the Southerners that lived in the Respite, but neither did she rival her Vantha friend in tolerance. She gave a heavy sigh as she shot a look down the hole that lead to the cavern, a feint glow emanating from somewhere deep inside, the small white blanket at the base of the tree proving it to be not completely sheltered against the elements. "An easy climb, it seems - but a cold one," She marveled, rolling her neck and stretching slightly, finding that apparently she'd managed to graze her arm slightly along the journey thus far. She supposed that she should be glad that that was all that had occurred on an otherwise uneventful trip, where a fall and sprain in snow could have landed her in serious trouble. She could have died, gotten frostbite - broke an arm or a leg. Sparing no more thought as she tightened the straps of her worn backpack, she took hold of one of the more prominent knots of the awfully convenient tree that Elsie had told her of. The Vantha, as always, had proved to be the most reliable one out of all she'd spoken to at the Respite in her warnings of the journey: follow back on your snow tracks if you get lost, then stay put if you still can't find your way back. If Sana was still out at sundown, Elsie would be letting someone know. 'Don't get distracted, don't get distracted...' She reminded herself, quickly take two footholds and assuming her three points of contact rule before beginning her descent. It was a simple little run, with so many knots, holds, and wholes to choose from that she took longer than if she was taking a harder climb. She only took several more steps down before she was confident enough to let go and jump, hitting the hard ground below with an huff. She almost tripped as she turned, the glow of the moss growing behind her catching her attention. "Now, isn't that something?" She murmured, not even bothering to walk into the bulk of the cave - a rather small patch of the moss growing within a couple of meters of the entrance. She'd heard about it - a friend had even tried to take some a cultivate it at the respite - but seeing was another thing entirely. She watched her footing as she took several brisk paces towards it, intending to kneel by its side to admire the sheer beauty of, eyes catching the pool and step faltering. 'Gods, that is beautiful.' She gave a whistle at the sight, eyes flitting from the divine colouration of the pool, to its depths and the whole of the cavern itself. How did couples find time for one another when this surrounded them? Her little venture to the edge of the pool bordered on tragic, her gaze for the most part upon her final destination as apposed to where it was she stepped, thankful her boots were sturdy and not too well worn, avoiding several stumbled that may have otherwise had her roll or sprain an ankle. 'New season resolution? Get fit. Ish.' By the time she was near enough to the closest edge, she fell to her knees and dipped her hands into the water, a chill running up her spine at its strange temperature. It was quite warm given the winter, and the waters so clear she could not only make out the moss at the close edges, but also the marvelous stone in the deeper waters. If you could call them deep that was. From what she knew, the water was suppose to be clean enough to drink, though she felt hesitation in the action, first cupping quite some bit and washing her face and neck, a breath of relief leaving her as she did so. So far it seemed to be well worth the trouble. She spent a short moment in reverie, eyes still roaming about the place, keen to take in every bit of the place's beauty as she could. Beauty came in many ways, from that building and skies and waters and caverns; but it was this little place that had her entirely. Every one of her breath was short as her excitement bubbled, her eyes did not dwell too long a moment in one place - fearful that she'd miss some moment of fleeting wonder. The sound of her own heart brought her back to mind, a certain little section of the cave catching her eye especially. She wasn't sure what it was that drew her there, but within a chime she'd pulled herself up and was settling in the little heart of the bank, crossing her legs underneath her as she made herself comfortable by a patch of moss, as though worried her touch would harm it. She interlocked her hands and took a deep breath, pleased with the total lack of interruption there was at the place. Meditation had never quite been her strong point, and in a building with over a dozen rather rowdy students, finding a quite place where you were still safe was a true labour. She slowly bade her heart to slow, and kept her breathing at a relatively even pace. She couldn't stop her mind from seeking thoughts of the cavern, and shortly found herself praying to Semele (if that was what it could be called, the woman more or less spending chime after chime spewing appreciation for the beauty that surrounded her, and sending hopes that she finds many more such marvels). After such was concluded, another deep breath left her and she finally found peace of mind. And then it was gone.

[Zeran]

Snow crunched beneath his boots as Zeran continued to walk along what was left of the path through the Peaks, wrapping his cloak tighter to ward off the invading cold. The coarseness of the cloth was the only reassurance that his ability to feel had not been completely robbed just yet, serving as a barrier against the cold. Only his face was allowed outside the cloak's protection, partially shielded by a curtain of hair. The snow continued to fall heavily across the land, in contrast to his ideas of a balanced forecast similar to the previous day. Reality had a lot more influence over Zeran's shivering than any thought could hope to imitate, making sure he understood that some ideas remained good only in a person's mind. His wish to see the peaks covered in a blanket of snow had become the reason Zeran trudged back, kicking the occasional dusting of snow into the air in front so he could watch it drift to the ground once more. Zeran stopped short of the winding path back up to the Amaranthine Gate, craning his neck to get a view of the structure atop the mountain. Getting down early, before the snow, had avoided worries of slipping all the way to the bottom, but now presented the problem with getting back to the top on an already difficult path now covered in snow and ice. Zeran hadn't planned so far ahead as to consider the journey back, and he groaned at it. Gaze returning to the ground, and away from the freezing snowflakes that clung to his body, he thought about what he could do. Standing outside, wandering around in the cold, until the weather cleared up wasn't a viable option. Neither was standing in place waiting to be decorated like a snowman. Zeran turned towards an introverted pine tree, standing tall under the cold, carrying the weight of the snow as if it were nothing. He used that boastful nature, as he stood underneath the branches, to allow the pine to catch most of the flakes before they reached him. A chill permeated his cloths as Zeran leaned back against the trunk. There was a price for using it for support, a bit of heat for the tree. "Not so full of yourself now, are you? But a fair trade," he said, steam accompanying the words as they left his mouth, smiling up at the snow-covered limbs shivering themselves under the cold. A clump of snow fell in response behind him, landing next to a trail of prints slowly being filled by fresh snow over time. Zeran followed the footprints, not moving from his spot to prevent cold undoing his efforts to make it comfortable. The prints stopped and disappeared into a hole at the base of the tree, bordered by snowflakes peering down to the bottom, watching their brethren disappear. Zeran glanced over the edge also, wondering why there was a random hole under the tree. A bottom couldn't be seen from where he stood, but the inside face was riddled with ledges, gaps and holds big enough for a foot or hand to be rested on easily. Someone had gone down before him, so it must've gone somewhere, and the urge to get inside - even if it were underground - was a very appealing one. The warm breeze carried from below was the final decider for him. "I owe you," he said, patting the tree as he moved away. Zeran wasn't a climber, and he made no attempts at convincing himself otherwise, made more difficult by the cane-sword dangling from his waist. His fingers struggled to obey his wishes, stiff from the winter's touch and sore from the stone's rough edges. Zeran tried not to shiver, having needed to relinquish his hold on his cloak in favour of getting inside, and gritted his teeth so they didn't chatter. A visit to the hot springs was a definite some time this season, if not immediately after he returned from stranding himself outside the city, as was a shopping trip for some warmer clothing for the winter. Each step was slow, gentle testing each ledge as hand or foot touched down, not that his muscles were letting him go much faster by this point. The briskness of the outside air was already receding, the only evidence of the weather was the chill that had already taken hold. Let the hand take the weight, move foot. Secure footing, lower hand. Zeran repeated the process a number of times, taking advantage of platforms where the snow had been disturbed by the previous climber. As his feet found stone that was not barely bigger than his foot, Zeran stayed holding on to the wall a moment longer. His fingers burned from the use when stiff, combined with being unaccustomed to gripping rock faces. Slowly prying one finger off the wall at a time, the final snowflake made one last go at hitting him before he stepped out of their reach. Zeran laughed, happy to be inside regardless of where. Turning away from his entrance introduced him to a grand sight, illuminated by hues of green from moss scattered across the stonework throughout the cavern. He breathed into his hands, restoring some of their warmth and flexibility, watching the colour of an aura seep into reality again, swirling and twisting in their release. Light blues mixed in with the greens of the moss. A check of the floor about him suggested that blue could mean cold, as the rocks did well to retain it, but could just as easily mean mean damp from the moisture that clung to his fingers. A deeper blue isolated itself near a patch of moss, keeping to itself. Zeran saw the blue to be a person's aura, a little bit stronger, and more lively that the inanimate beings around them. He presumed them to be his forerunner, but the bright red hair looked incredibly familiar. Zeran knew such a person with an aura that kept to itself, and she had red hair also. The floor of the cavern did not make movement easy, dressed in so many jags and dips that it was a relief when your next step fell horizontal, rather than a new angle. Zeran continued forward, approaching the redhead, drawing alongside her and passing her. "Hiding yourself away from the crowds again, Lady Red?" he asked, continuing towards the rolling waves of deep pink that danced across the water in the centre of the cavern. If the light blues meant cold, Zeran hoped with his heart the deep pink was warmth. Ripples spread as his fingers glided across the surface. In one direction, doubling back and moving forward, and doing so again before his hand was submersed within, quickly followed by the other. It was as he'd hoped, tepid. The warmth eased itself in as the auras fell from sight, working out the stiffness and the cold from skin and muscle. Whilst it was nowhere near a hotspring, Zeran sighed at the feeling, overjoyed. Cloak, shirt, cane and boots were quick to come off as Zeran jumped into the pool, sitting along the bottom just deep enough for the water to reach his chin. Wrapped in the welcome change in temperature, Zeran turned to face his companion. "How are you finding the weather, Lady-" He stopped, looking at the face of the woman who now stared at him. A woman he did not know, though hair colour and aura seemed to match only one he had previously encountered. "You are not Lady Krisa, are you?" he asked, dipping his head lower into the water. He was quiet for only a moment, before a smile returned to his face. "Question still stands. How are you finding the weather?" He raised one hand from the water in greeting. "I'm Zeran. What would you prefer I call you? Unless you want me to call you Redhead Two." Chuckling, Zeran's mouth returned to just below the surface as he started blowing bubbles in the water.

[Arysana]

"Sana's Speech" | Thoughts | Other's Speech"

Sana sat in silence, her mouth agape and eyes wide. Had he just-Did he really-What? She balled her hands into fists, and fixed her gaze on the far wall. "Uh, no." She managed, mind still catching up to her in terms of what had just happened. "My nam-" She didn't like the coarse awkwardness of her voice, and she cleared her throat as she gave introductions another attempt. "My name is Arysana. But call me..." She hazarded a glance down to the man - Zeran - eyes somehow managing to widen further. Oh dear Gods, what is he doing? Her gaze quickly found a wall once more, and she tried to think of the words that he had said. There was something more... a name? A purpose? "Not that. Ary or Sana. Elthorne if need be."

She lifted a hand to her temple and rubbed it slowly, working through the fog that she wished would thicken as she blotted out a piece or two in particular. There were her prayers to Semele, then peace. Then noise and stumbling. A laugh, more noise. Then there was comment addressed to 'Lady Red,' and then the man decided that he wanted to swim and stripped almost stark naked. Right. "And the weather?" she half asked, then moving on to the next little portion of the unexpected turn of events. "Not desirable, but not horrid." There was an odd echo to her voice, and she wrung her fingers as she tried to normalise the situation.

Hey, at least he's wearing his underclothes? Oh Gods, don't check! She was quickly up on her feet with her face turned the other way, a sudden and keen interest taken into the moss that lined the wall. She gave herself a short moment, deciding that she could at least use what she had been learning in terms of mediation to slow her heart and deepen her breath.

She walked along the wall with a careful step, the sound of Zeran splashing about in the water making it apparent enough that there was little to no way that she could merely ignore his existence. "Shall I take it that you came here with the intention to swim?" She asked, mind not with the question. Another slow breath and she was more comfortable. 'What in Gods' Names am I doing? Self-helping an anger management issue?' She locked her jaw and clenched her fists, before shaking off the feeling and walking on, ensuring that she kept the hand on the cave's wall light and in front. "I'm not quite sure you noticed," She began, a certain pissed off tone to her voice.

Since the initial shock and embarrassment had quickly passed, her anger and annoyance were ready and flaring. "But I was trying to meditate." 'Yep, that's enough. I can stop there. No need to start ranting and get mad aga-' "Apparently socking some moron in the jaw is need enough for your close friends to point you in the direction of an isolated petching cavern to 'think.'" 'Well, it was a nice thought while it lasted.'

Her next words were a quiet, pissed off complaint. "It isn't like I bloodied his nose. I can't punch for shyke."

[Zeran]

The bubbles continued for a few ticks longer before falling silent. Zeran stared through the crystal water, tracing the lines of the rocks at the bottom, lined with the glowing moss reminiscent of the colours he released moments before, magnified and sparkling in the movements of the water. Even his own form weaved and danced under the surface, influenced by the wavelets that originated from himself. He wondered if Morphers ever felt as such, watching themselves change from one being to the next, utilising nothing more than their own force of will. "I'm spoiled for choice," he said, raising his mouth from the water to speak again. Arysana was already up and facing away for whatever reason she had, giving him a nice view of her back as he looked over. "I think I'll wait to decide, my lady." Zeran lazily leaned back into the pool, as if laying down his head to rest, allowing his weight to be taken as it spread over a greater area. He wondered how much of that 'not desirable, not horrid' was down to being out in conditions different to his, and how much was not being so bothered by it. He did not know how much longer she had been here before him, and neither question had an answer that didn't involve peeking outside to compare to earlier conditions. He listened to his drumming fingers against the surface, accompanied by the sound of Sana's footsteps and water dripping from the stalactites above, accentuated by the cavern. He grinned at the stalactites hanging over him, threatening to pierce him should he be unlucky enough to be beneath when they fell, as if doing so would persuade them to hold off until he was out the way. With the time it took for one to form, Zeran thought it unlikely it would choose the tick he was in its way to fall. Though Lhex did have his mean streaks. So the possibility may not be as unlikely as he would hope to believe. "You can if you want," he replied, eyes jumping from stalactite to moss patch and back. "I'm not stopping you. But if you want my reason, I was cold and got myself stuck outside. I didn't fancy my chances against an ice slope back up to the gates, so a friendly tree showed me this place as shelter." Zeran sat upright again, taking in the full sights of the cavern for the first time. The glowing moss clung to most any surface, giving the room a mystical feel that cloaked its visitors. "I actually haven't the faintest clue where I am. Though it seems familiar, I just wanted out of the snow." The sudden harshness to her voice grabbed at Zeran's attention, pulling it to Sana trailing her hand across the stone wall. He hadn't noticed, more interested with the warmth of the cave than what she was doing, though the sharpness in her words made it sound like he should've known before climbing down. "Might explain why your aura looked withdrawn." It did explain why he mistook it for Krisa's. There was a great distance to travel before he could distinguish between one person and the next on their auras alone. The water run across his body in rivulets, seeking out the pool that was its home, with ease as he stood, though his pants refused to give up their newly acquired weight so easily as he stepped out. "You've got specks of red spiking now. I don't think it's working." The colour was beginning to mix, starting out as patches and slowly seeping into the surrounding blue, like blood in water. He had never seen an aura under meditation, and didn't know what to expect. Wrung-out water slithered through the crevices of the ground, seeking out the lowest point it could hide away in. A cool sensation, easily recognised, returned as the air reached the droplets that still clung to him. The cold only brushed his skin now, instead of biting deep, courtesy of the pool returning his temperature to as it should be. "A small oversight. I am not going back outside until my pants have dried enough." Cloth squelched as Zeran claimed a seat on the floor, his clothes and cane close by. He thought it better to let remaining moisture drain first, rather than collect in the bottom of his boots, and walking over the jagged rocks without boots was a great method for donating blood to whatever creatures called this place home. He looked back to the water's surface, greeted by a familiar face. "It's you're own fault," the man in the water reminded him. "I was wondering when you'd show up." The man only shrugged at Zeran's comment. "Though I do appreciate the help." "Glad I could," he smiled, matched and returned by Zeran. The two may have their differences on the occasion, but it couldn't be said the man in the water didn't try his best to help out when he could. Looking away from his companion, Zeran craned his head up and backwards, fixing on Sana upside-down. "So, why you down here meditating? Or shall I hazard a guess?"

[Arysana]

"Sana's Speech" | Thoughts | Other's Speech"

Sana shifted the weight of her head. He had no idea where he was? She supposed she shouldn't have been awfully surprised. He didn't seem to be all caring as to the location. He was marveling it just as well as she was, but there was a certain goal for herself. She knew where she was, she'd heard tails both tall and small, with the moss and clarity of the water both talked up and down and spoken of it accurately. It was beautiful, there was no denying it, but a friend had spoken of the place in the language of dreams, and Sana had half expected to see a vision in the crystal-clear water.

Her attention had been captured by the sight of a row of stalagmites standing tall close by, striking a resemblance to something she herself had been wishing to form with her reimancy. By the time that she'd returned to the tune of Zeran's words, she was pleased that she'd missed the bulk of it - hearing the tail end of a criticism (A least, in her mind) on how she was fairing in the practice of mediation. Then of course, came the awkward site of the man pulling himself of the water, something which the woman ensured that she did not gawk at. Although - He wasn't all too bad. Right, no gawking.

She about to begin arbitrarily avoided throwing any glance his direction, until he began speaking to himself, that was. The look she threw him was puzzled, concerned, but mostly puzzled. She was quite ready to throw her own question into the mix when she was asked for her own reasons for trying to mediate. "There are... several," She said, nodding slowly to herself.

"The first one is that I've begun taking lessons in the art and sorely need preactising," She'd figured that she might as well power through the largely bullshyke reasons to begin with. "Second of all, I'm a student learning in the ways of magic, and mediation is vital in keeping in control." She let her head tilt from side to side as she figured her wording on her last little reason. "Lastly because I punched someone in the face, so no one quite trusts me or my temper anymore."

As brutal as it was put, she was hardly incorrect. If she'd been someone learning in the ways of fire reimancy, she thought that even more so she'd be shunned. Earth was still a form heavily feared, but not so much, it seemed. "Not that I really made a mark on him,' She said, as though having put him out cold would have helped the situation.

[Zeran]

He had tried to listen with honest interest, but Zeran's attention had been forced to focus on withholding a laugh. The cavern betrayed his failing attempts as his amplified sniggering soon burst out, soaring through the rock formations and bouncing off the walls, doubling him over as he tried covering his mouth to catch the sound. "You make magic sound like a demon trying to take over!" It was a struggle to get words out, chances stolen between howls and breaths. The uneven surface beneath managed to get in a few good jabs as Zeran rolled over, though he remained too caught up in Sana's comment that he showed no signs of bother. Propped on his forearms, Zeran had reduced to chuckling, still unable to stop completely as he said, "You need to reconsider how 'close' these friends of yours are." He gestured lazily to the cavern, holding his head in the other hand. "If they don't trust you enough to aid you on your path to enlightenment, and would rather keep you out of sight, what friends are they?" Her response could go either way. Very few people responded well to having their friends' true feelings called into question, and even fewer would take the word of a stranger as truth without any prior suspicions. "Although," he started, pushing himself up from the cold, damp stone, "perhaps they're the smart ones for avoiding you, if you're prone to punching random people in the streets." Zeran never made eye contact as he voiced his thoughts, stepping over his boots as if they were a sleeping bear and gently settling his foot on the flattest possible area. "Ah crap, I'm down with her now," he said, seemingly forgetting that Sana was still behind him. He picked up his cane, throwing it from its resting place on his clothes and into his waiting hand. "What if she takes her frustration out on me?" The handle twisted, disengaging the catch that held base over blade. It still worked smoothly, despite the unfavourable conditions it had withstood outside. A twist back locked it again. "It's not my fault her friends are trying to hide her away." The metal tip clicked as it greeted stone, turning Zeran on his heel. "Whether or not you did much damage is irrelevant, my lady." He spoke as if he hadn't said anything, taking slow, calculated steps as he tried to traverse the terrain, stopping regularly to plan his next move. "I think it's more the thought behind the action that people get more upset about. Do you think he'd have been much happier if he avoided it?" He'd taken a swing at a ghost not half a season ago, knowing it wouldn't hurt him but feeling better at the thought it could have. Small protests and hisses found passage from his throat, finding that some spikes hid within the shadows of the landscape regardless of how carefully it was taken. Zeran lead with his cane, using it to steady himself as he took the next step. The damp surfaces were a challenge to cross, threatening to slip him up any moment. The moss offered enough traction to reduce the threat, but Zeran found himself island-hopping as he circled around Sana. Perhaps it wasn't the best idea leaving my boots behind in favour of keeping them dry. "Well, I'll follow your friends' example and leave you to your meditating whilst I do some exploring," he smiled at her. "I recommend taking a dip, if you find you need assistance. It's the right temperature for warming up a cold body, or cooling down a hot head." Zeran continued gingerly walking forwards. "Enjoy your time alone." He stopped a few steps on, looking over the ground he planned on taking on his adventure, having second thoughts about his current attire, and turning back to Sana. "Actually, before I go, could you get my boots for me, please?"

[Arysana]

"Speech" | 'Thoughts' | oocSorry for my lateness! I have a bad habit of writing responses straight into the reply box, and I lost my post when I tried to submit due to the internet crashing on me -_- I had to give myself a time to calm down before I rewrote it ;_; And the final result pales in comparison to the original. *Shakes fist angrily* Damn unstable connections

He talked quite a lot - perhaps even more than she herself. For someone so used to being the driving force for conversation, it was nice to listen and nod away. Or at least, it was nice until Zeran decided that he'd like to criticize those she loosely termed friends. What would he know of her friendships? Of the promises made and which were kept, which secrets had been told and which had been spoken, and what combinations of the two would never reach another's ears? She opened her mouth to argue her point, to defend the few whom she did indeed trust with her entirety, only to slam it shut as she pondered his own opinions on magic. 'What did he call it?' she wondered, mouth slightly agape and brow furrowed, mind quick shifting back to when he gave that preposterous laugh, as though no harm ever came of using magic.

She pressed her lips as he spoke more about her friend's apparent lack of closeness, rolling her eyes as she bade her anger not to flourish too greatly. Oh, she really didn't like the man. But he was a curious one, and just such enough that her desire to learn more of his standpoint was enough to balance out the irritation she felt towards his character. She wouldn't feign kindness or cordiality to him, but neither would she treat him with rudeness.

His words proved to be a testament to her decision, however, with his continual reference to her ability to control herself no doubt further spiking little - wait. He knew Auristrics? She pressed her lips as she gave herself a mental slap in the face. She'd somehow managed to slip over the little revelation before, and she gave a huff of annoyance as it proves just how out of sorts she had been. She'd not dare practice any sort of magic with her state of mind as it was, though the levels of infuriation that Zeran was driving her, she was actually considering it.

A moment more of talk and she was fetching his boots- wait, what? She picked them up with the wrinkling of her nose, shooting a glare towards the man as she ever so gracefully dropped them at his feet. "What other magic do you use?" She asked, not at all trusting him. Which, it should be noted, was an incredibly difficult thing to do. When someone is as sure of herself as Arysana was, they wear their being for the world to see, and rather than trust others - trust themselves and their abilities. "You know that which to sense and read aura, what else?" She thought that perhaps she was speaking too forward, and folded her arms as she decided that perhaps it was time to take several short steps back, not liking the act of looking upwards as she spoke. She did her best to use his words to aid her, rolling her shoulders as she did so. "For someone who views a life with magic as some form of 'enlightenment' - surely there is not only one discipline that you practice."

______________________________________________
Arysana Elthorne

[Zeran]

OOCI've been caught like that before. It's why I copy my entire text before I hit submit now, in case I lose it. Don't worry about it!

Zeran stared at his boots expectantly, waiting to see if they did anything before he attempted to put them back on. Taking his eyes away for a moment, he glanced at Sana now backed away, chuckling at the petty action. The red swirls remained as they were in her aura, pulsing as they swam. Either a cool head kept them as such, or suppression of emotions. From what had been mentioned already, Zeran assumed the latter. Satisfied they were not moving, Zeran hooked his cane inside the first boot, pulling it forwards across the floor. "Cheers," he said, clumsily pulling his boot on as he balanced on the other foot and a cane, staggering on occasion. His toes wiggled as he set his foot back on solid ground, settling back into a familiar place. "Did I say 'enlightenment'?" He chewed the inside of his cheek, looking around for an answer to make itself known. "I did, didn't I?" The tapping of his heel against the stone echoed in time with the dripping water, shrugging as his thoughts came to an end. "I suppose it does, provided you don't get ostracised for it. Lhavit is so accepting of us!" He smiled, hooking his other boot. The warmth of the fabric hugging his feet was more welcome than the cold and slimy rock. It was difficult to believe he had considered leaving them behind. "Anyway, would you believe me if I said Auristics was my only discipline?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at Sana. "If not, you'd be wasting my time by asking the question, but you'd also be right." Something didn't feel right in his second boot, out-of-place and uncomfortable, pulling his attention away from his thoughts. Balancing on one foot again, the culprit rolled out as the boot was removed, sending a couple stones back to where they came from after hitching a ride into his footwear. "I'm fairly competent with Projection and am making a start on learning the ins and outs of glyphing." The count had been brought to three disciplines for Sana to make of it what she wished. An acceptable number for a wizard who hadn't mastered any, and easy enough to prove to avoid suspicions of keeping Hypnotism a secret. One thing that Elena Lariat had made perfectly clear in any Hypnotism lesson, always keep it secret until you were sure the second party could be trusted, or it was too late for them to act upon the revelation. Projection, whilst subtle, was in danger of being found out after a few uses by those aware of its use. Hypnotism was immune to detection to all but the most astute individuals if used correctly, and had devastating effects as it wormed its way through the shadows of a persons mind. Once it was discovered, however, it was never as effective again. Zeran hit the toe of his boot, dislodging any remaining, unwanted guests from wherever they clung to before replacing the boot. "That being said, how can you trust what I've just told you?" His boots scuffed against the floor, finding his way back to Sana's side, grinning as he looked down at her. "I could've said I was an Alchemist, or a Voider." He began pacing back and forth, contemplating his own question. "One isn't really one you can check in a cavern, and it would be too easy to kill you after I've proven my skills in the other. What would you have done if I had lied?" He wanted to know, wanted to hear, what Sana would do. Would she run if he attacked? All bark and no bite when her target wasn't so defenceless? Would she stand and fight? Kill or be killed, or beat into submission? The footsteps stopped as Zeran turned back to her. "Up until now, have you seen me as a threat or an annoyance?" Dropping the contemplative appearance suddenly, Zeran smiled brightly as he jumped between moss patches, carrying his cane over his shoulder. No concerns, leaving the entire conversation and questions he'd just asked for Sana to worry about. "So, you know my disciplines. Which of the life-threatening disciplines did you pick that called for meditation?"

[Arysana]

"Speech" | 'Thoughts'

There were few things in the world that could make Sana as uncomfortable as she was then. She knew of auristics and of glyphing, but projection she knew little. She narrowed her gaze and wrung her fingers, before giving a heavy breath and rolling her shoulders. People liked to keep a thing or two up her sleeves, she was told - magic attracts a certain kind of person, a kind that should scarcely be trusted. Only idiots give away all tricks. How many times had she herself been idiotic in thought and action? Many times thus far, and many more to come, seemed to be the most likely answer.

She wagered that it was for the best that she was a little unnerved by the way Zeran spoke, though she could scarcely say that she was foreign to the feeling. Her soaked little acquaintance, it seemed, was much like the wind. Unpredictable and untrustworthy, and from his words, also unbound. She had to quickly turn and cover her mouth as he continued to prattle on about trusting a stranger and the like, a small smile blazing her features as her mind hit her with reminiscence after reminiscence. For a moment the cave wall in front of her was a rock face, the glow of the moss the warmth of Syna, her feeling of unnerving twisted to something far more wrought and dire, and then it was gone.

The situation she was in paled in comparison. She slowly turned and returned her gaze to Zaren, feeling that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to turn away in the first place, the up curve of her mouth still subtle as milder thoughts lingered. Soon enough, the look slipped and she mediated on the man's words, finding it wholly odd that he decided that she'd assume him honest in his little hypothetical. "If you'd lied," she said, seeing little point in bombarding the man with verbal doubts of his character, "Then you'd simply be no different than the average practitioner, now, would you?"

She titled her head as she followed through with the little bout of questions, trying not to find the cavern so interesting her words were executed with little care. "Annoyance, or threat? Annoyance, easily." she said finally, a slow nod to herself. Definitely annoyance. "As for myself and the lovely little discipline that had me find my way here in the first place - reimancy. My place of enrollment values the safety of it's students above all else, so they shy away from ridiculously dangerous practices - if not completely shun them," She said, adding in her last sentence as an after thought. If Zaren was going to get fancy with his words - then so would she. "So control and meditation is heavily advised, if not enforced, for sweet hot heads such as myself."

Seeing in that Zeran was off content prancing upon the odd moss patch, she peeled of took heed in the complete opposite direction, a rather brilliant staircase of stalagmites piquing her attention. "Isn't it odd..." she said, already regretting her words as she considered that she was perhaps reading into things, "That you so easily told me each and every of your own disciplines, but didn't ask the same from me." He was either incredibly cocky, or had his own tricks up his sleeve. Neither all that mattered to her, she knew Lhavit and The Shinya, and how things worked when one was caught over giving. Worst comes to worst, she was the kind stupid enough to go above and beyond her limits will little care for herself or state.

______________________________________________
Arysana Elthorne

[Zeran]

"Nope." The curtness of the response cut the air, leaving it to hang as he landed on another moss patch. "You asked what other disciplines I knew and I asked what dangerous one got you sent here." Zeran turned to Sana, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "What's odd about answering the question asked?" Swinging his cane in circles alongside him, he meandered closer. "I only wanted to know what made you dangerous. Even if your answer was a lie, it wasn't a good choice to throw off my guard, making you honest or stupid." Whilst all magic came with their own degree of threats, Reimancy was one of those on the higher end, giving everyone an air of caution at its mention. The recent earthquake on Lhavit was enough of a reminder of the power the elements possessed, still healing from the wounds, and a Reimancer had control over these beings. Albeit to a much lesser degree, unless overgiving was an acceptable trade-off. Zeran patted her on the shoulder as he passed, leaning in close to speak. "Although, being the former doesn't mean you aren't the latter as well." The intrusion into Sana's personal space was brief as Zeran continued towards the water's edge near his shirt and cloak. "I don't know where I place you," he said looking out over the luminescent pool. "You're hot-headed by your own admission, and apparently sweet. I'll take your word for that, as cannibalism isn't my thing. Though stupidity doesn't come in hand with it." He turned side-on, keeping his left arm from sight as he pinned his hand to the top of his cane with the other, hiding its sudden lifelessness as its astral self reached out across the water. "I want to test which you are, if not both," he announced, enjoying himself as he went along. "If the average practitioner lies then you are also included under that bold accusation, though I'll never understand how you met so many wizards to make it. But it's naivety to think a liar is born with the first discipline of magic learned. Truth is that the wizard was a liar before he became a wizard, making him no different from normal people in that aspect. That being said, I've never denied the fact." A resounding sound came from Zeran, tapping his cane against the ground as he silently laughed to himself, looking back out to the glistening surface. No sooner had the echo died, the waters of the pool rolled over themselves, pushed by the invisible arm he'd rested on top. Starting slow, the waves grew larger and faster as momentum carried them forwards, eventually crashing in to the walls, letting their own weight carry them upwards, and spilling up on to the banks. Whilst nothing intimidating, it would hopefully give the desired effect. Water reimancy? Sana would think, assisted in her choice of thoughts by Zeran. So he was keeping secrets. He loved knitting these kinds of situations. Steering encounters as he wished. Taking what he had and trying to convince others he could do so much more. It was never the success of the trick that he sought, only to see how long he could keep the charade going. It would always be found out. If not by the participant, by Zeran coming clean in fits of laughter. "Now you've seen what I can do," he said, facing the redhead once more, "why don't you show me now if you are honest, stupid, or both." The only lie that could be blamed on him was the thought of Reimancy in Sana's head. If she was unable to figure out he was hypnotising her, then Zeran hadn't even told that lie. It was Sana's fault for assuming Reimancy when he had never named it as such, opting to forgo telling her it was Projection. "Show me your magic."