2020-10-15: Two Dragonmasters

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  • Log: Two Dragonmasters
  • Cast: Ghaleon, Yuna
  • Where: Bevelle - Via Purifico
  • Date: October 15, 2020
  • Summary: Ghaleon and Yuna run into each other in the Via Purifico, the first time they've ever spoken. Ghaleon offers Yuna some unexpected fatherly advice, and Yuna offers Ghaleon some unexpected friendship. Ultimately, they decide to travel together for a time.

==========================<* Bevelle - Via Purifico *>==========================

Via Purifico is the immense, ancient labyrinth built underneath Bevelle. It is attached the prisons in the temple complex. It is a place of death and despair, as those tried and found guilty are sentenced to it -- to escape and prove their innocence or (as happens far more likely) die within. The labyrinth has countless glyphs, which are warded and make navigating hard (and teleporting away impossible). There are many portions that are flooded, as well, and that adds an extra level of complexity.

BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dtN36ITVrCo
<Pose Tracker> Ghaleon has posed.

Via Purifico is dark. And endless.

It isn't pitch black, but it is notoriously hard to see who is coming. In this case, in the dark halls, the machina-based lighting only seems to reach so far -- like swimming pool lamps that cannot quite penetrate the gloom. That makes spotting who is coming harder and harder, too. But, even in bright light, someone arriving by glyph teleporter would be sudden.

There is a flash and a whoosh in the chamber that Lady Yuna enters. Then, a surge of blue light flies through a wall and alights on a dimmed platform. Then, it takes form: into the robed, bedraggled form of Ghaleon. His robes are white, but dirtied; his armored pauldrons are scratched, blackened, and dented. His white hair, likewise, is dirtied in places.

But, of course, he is Ghaleon; shockingly beautiful, with elfin features, and a grace that his exhaustion does not lessen. He takes a couple of steps forward, and glances about. He turns his head -- and the marred, mottled purple flesh around his left eye does stop him from peering into the darkness.

"Hm, hm..."

<Pose Tracker> Yuna has posed.

Yuna was about to step onto the glyph teleporter; there is, very nearly, a collision. But she skips back at the last second, though that may be an overgenerous verb. Ordinarily she would have skipped back -- she can be quite light on her feet. But just now they're weighted heavily by exhaustion; no elf is she.

She stumbles back.

But, she does not fall. Her sleeves swirl and her knees flex and she stays standing, despite all. A swift breeze could knock her over. It seems the main thing keeping her upright is sheer will, at this point.

After a moment, in which she realizes that she might accidentally startle this extremely capable-looking person as much as he did her, she clears her throat politely.

"Excuse me," she greets softly, without apology, only a grave politeness that really has no business being in a place like this.

In full view, she's an equally miserable figure in many respects. Her summoner's raiment is torn, she is both damp and dirty simultaneously, and scratches on her shoulders and back and cheeks both weep blood and somehow fail to capture the current fragility of her frame, which was brutalized by much worse -- with much more INTENT -- than mere fiends ever could.

She is without a weapon -- she lost it on the Ten Thousand Steps of Peace, after all, she threw it down, and has not been reunited with its savior. But she holds her right hand forth, emptily, palm up, a nonthreatening gesture.

Her left hand is at a much more awkward, tense angle, mostly veiled by her dark blue skirt.

As he faces her fully, her eyes -- in this gloom, there is no distinguishing them from each other -- widen a bit.

"Oh," she realizes. "You're... the one who faced Sin. The great hero of Althena. Everyone thought you had died."

When she blinks, for that moment of veiling, there's just a little bit less light in this dark place.

"I'm glad," she breathes, and then there's just a little bit more warmth. "That everyone was wrong."

<Pose Tracker> Ghaleon has posed.

Ghaleon's eyes adjust, after a moment. There is a stumble and a rustle of obi, and the Dragonmaster's eyes finally have recognition in them. He hasn't met her, except in passing and briefly; still, he knew of the Summoner Yuna, if not the person herself. He then learned much more, at her trial. He was there, though hidden from others.

Yevon will keep up appearances, even as they violate other rules. Ghaleon still had to be condemned, with the other Otherworlders, but they would not dare to make his presence known.

"Lady Yuna," he says. "I am alive. With some help from a friend," he confesses. "I'm a good bit harder to kill than people think."

He chuckles. But it's a little dry and a little hollow; he came closer to the end -- or, maybe, an end, until Zophar thought to bring him back -- and that has still left him unnerved. He came away from the encounter with Sin with more questions and no answers.

"I see you, too, have ended up in the Grand Maester's good graces," Seymour says.

<Pose Tracker> Yuna has posed.

"That is the only way any of us have survived this long," Yuna observes. "Friendship is a mightier force than I ever imagined. And," she smiles for the first time at his chuckle, a gentle expression, "I am glad for that, too."

She nods, her long beaded Besaid earring swinging forward with the dip of her chin, at the observation. "Yes," she says simply. "I have been excommunicated, and sentenced to death." A weary distance enters her expression, as she briefly looks upon her hopes, and sees them shattered. "I journeyed to Bevelle expecting the latter, but I had hoped they would let me carry out my own means of execution. A just penance for my crime."

Alas, there is no justice here, in the heart of Yevon. Only corruption, and cruelty. She does not say it aloud, but she does not need to. Her expression becomes that of one who has been forced to endure terrible things, but none more terrible than the betrayal of her religions, their teachings revealed as lies, and her faith as mere currency for their continuation.

She is desolate with it. And yet... still standing.

And then... rocking, her weight approaching her toes.

Faint embarrassment has infected her mien, as though she had not known that he would know her. She shifts slightly, a tiny motion magnified infinitely by the nature of her garb, which amplifies it into ripples and sways.

"Forgive me," she says, "But I had counted on our trading introductions. It's, um, Gal..lant? Sir Gallant?"

From her hesitation she obviously senses that she's a little off. How mortifying. But he just wasn't a part of her canon growing up, and she only heard of him AT Mi'ihen. After that, he didn't come up very much, for obvious reasons.

<Pose Tracker> Ghaleon has posed.

"Hm, hm, hm. I see... then, you came here of your own accord?" Ghaleon asks, his expression thoughtful. He taps a finger against his cheek. He looks down at Yuna -- surprised.

And then he starts laughing. Not in a cruel way; often, his laughter is mocking. Today, it is delighted, not unlikely the time he laughed at something Ivan said about the Goddess. He opens his mouth, and then closes it. "Yes, an introduction... you must forgive me. It has has been so long since someone has asked for one."

He nods his head, once. "I am Ghaleon," he says. "Dragonmaster of Althena, and her champion. It is... a pleasure to finally meet you and speak with you. I am, I fear, not particularly gallant."

He smirks, at that. "I'm afraid I made the mistake of finding out that the Grand Maester is an... Unsent, you call them?" he volunteers. "I informed him, since I was unsure if he knew of his unfortunate affliction."

He gives a great, armored shrug. "He did not appreciate my observations."

<Pose Tracker> Yuna has posed.

As a fellow celebrity -- though the pond in which this fish swims is much smaller -- Yuna has a certain appreciation for the pleasure of not being instantly known, and enjoys Ghaleon's enjoyment of it, allows the empathy of the moment to soothe away her own embarrassment. She's smiling again soon enough. "Ghaleon," she repeats. "Dragonmaster Ghaleon."

To call it an ENDEARMENT on her tongue might be an overstatement of intimacy, but all names are rather lovely through the tender medium of her voice. "The pleasure is mine." All the moreso for how she feared the chance stolen forever by Sin, along with the chances of so many others, that day.

There's a complexity to her... her smile isn't FAKE, exactly, it isn't a front, at least just right now. It is perhaps a little bit defiant. A smile in this place is as unfamiliar to it as good manners. Moreso, in a way.

She nods her understanding. "I only just found out myself. I had come for more than one reason... confessing to Seymour's slaughter, and thus exposing him as Unsent, among them."

This is such a spectacular understatement of what has just transpired, and how badly it went awry, that it lingers in the air for an almost humorous beat. Then she shrugs, too, a small and lissome gesture in comparison. Perhaps her trials have not robbed her of all grace, after all.

"I did not wish to come in the manner I did, nor in the company, but yes, I wished to come." Yuna acknowledges, her eyes darkening with a sudden vision of massacre. Ghosts haunt her as much as Yevon's own darkness does. Mi'ihen's and Home's and Kilika's and countless others. Such a small person, to carry such a large amount of grief. It makes her suddenly fierce. "I wish very much that I had been able to come on my own. I wish that more than anything." She wishes it twice -- so that no one would have died to stop her... or to save her. It's all she ever planned to do upon her return to Spira.

She makes a sudden gesture -- the prayer of Yevon. Habit. Perhaps that too is more complex. Other meaning or not, she bows deeply.

"You have been wronged so by Spira, after doing its people such service," she adds, very earnest, oblivious to any irony, which lingers around her no longer. "I'm so terribly sorry."

<Pose Tracker> Ghaleon has posed.

There is a smile from Ghaleon when she repeats his name -- and he seems pleased enough with it. He may have a reputation for being rude and dismissive -- and sarcastic -- but he can be friendly, in the right circumstances.

"I see. I commend you for that boldness," he says. "I heard about your... nuptials to that man. You have my sincerest condolences."

He even says so sincerely.

Then, he shakes his head. "Perhaps. But, I am no innocent. I have my own goals--some of which I must indulge--and being here, fighting Sin, and doing what I have... they further those goals. Do not mistake what I have done--or what I will do--as being in Spira's best interests."

He folds his arms, then. "So an apology may be... premature. But nonetheless, thank you. I am glad to know that some in Yevon have a sense of honor. I haven't had the best impression of some of your erstwhile bosses."

<Pose Tracker> Yuna has posed.

Yuna swallows when Ghaleon brings up the marriage, and accepts his condolences quietly. And his earnest rejection of her apology she swallows also... but with much less discomfort.

He folds his arms, but she does not. She holds her hands forth, instead, cupped entreatingly.

She doesn't do it to show him what's there but he gets to see, anyway, the freshly branded Yevonite rune upon her left palm. It is not necessary to be fluent in their complexities, since its meaning is obvious in context.

HERETIC

For all his gladness, he is wrong also, about honor in Yevon. For she can be of Yevon no longer. Not even if she could. If he saw the trial, then he knows that, too.

Another choice of her own accord, in the midst of a situation where Yevon tried to take all choice from her.

"There are as many reasons to face Sin as there are people," she replies firmly, and with the knowledge of one who has, and the conviction of one who will again. "None of them, not even one, warrant your mistreatment. I will not rescind what I said, just because you chose to fight Sin for yourself."

The tiniest amount of admiration slips into her voice, in fact. And a great deal of thoughtfulness. But then... she has a lot to think about right now, about her own reasons for fighting Sin.

"So thank you. And I'm sorry."

She starts to lower them back to her sides.

"You seem well-informed about current events," she adds, more quietly. "I do not believe that Althena's Guard has Spira's best interests in mind either... no more than Yevon itself."

It costs her something to say that second half out loud, but she does anyway. It was the right thing to do.

That's been costing her a lot lately.

There is more question than challenge in her tone, however; certainly no aggression. Just curiosity... does it matter that they're probably enemies, once they escape this place? And a certain honesty; much as he could not hide his truth from her, nor can she allow him to assume that the enemy of his enemy will automatically be his friend.

Though it might be hard to avoid if he hangs around her too much. She smiles again, tiredly. The only thing she's up to summoning right now is that dimple in her cheek.

<Pose Tracker> Ghaleon has posed.

Ghaleon's eyes are drawn to the brand that he sees, even if she doesn't demonstrate it. His eyes narrow, for a moment, and then he nods. "I see," he says, then. And he understands.

She is no longer part of that faith.

He looks at her for a long moment. Then, he nods respectfully; no attempt to push her gratitude and apology back, no attempt to dismiss it, and no real attempt to accept it. But that, in its own way, is acceptance from someone like him.

"Hm, hm... you're correct. Althena's Guard wants what their Goddess tells them to want. But the Goddess is not here," he says. "So, much like I am, you have a number of people... who balance what they believe their Goddess wants and what they want. Perhaps my fellows fault Yevon--I do not. I've heard of this... war."

He shakes his head. "I have no doubt that I will be drawn into it. Unless the Goddess has other need of me," he says. "But much like many of Yevon's followers are bound by their beliefs, I -- and the other of the Guard -- are bound by the Goddess that we are sworn to. I think you're quite right, about the reasons to defeat Sin. And perhaps who must see to it."

He tilts his head. "The people of Spira are the ones who must defend Spira," he says. "Hmm. You might say they are Spira, if you're the... poetic type."

<Pose Tracker> Yuna has posed.

"You are not the first person of honor I have met who is bound to the Goddess Althena," Yuna remarks. What she thinks of the idea that this Goddess is absent, she does not say. But then, Yevon is named for a figure who is no longer present, a figure of many mysteries, so perhaps she thinks nothing at all. As for those who would wield others' faith in their own name, well, she just got the most brutal education possible. "I do not think you will be the last. Spira has not known war in a thousand years, until the Guard brought it to our shores... with Sin abroad again, I fear greatly that soon there will be nothing left. I do not know which can be ended faster..." Sin or the war, "...but I will defend Spira from both."

From her fierce look, it looks like she's the poetic type.

She loves its people so dearly.

Of course she does. It's why she signed up to die for them when she was only seventeen.

She'll do what she must to defend them.

Even from you, Ghaleon.

It's in her eyes...

...THEY'RE in her eyes, just for a moment, gazing at him...

...no wonder she so often acts like she speaks for more than only herself...

Until she blinks again, and she sways again. The spirit is willing but the flesh cannot stand firm so easily. She's been through so much, in so short a time. A famed white mage, one can only imagine what must have been done for her to be drained so entirely now.

She's going to fall if she isn't caught.

"Sorry," she coughs, even as she feels herself losing the fight to vertigo. "I need... just a minute..."

<Pose Tracker> Ghaleon has posed.

A sorcerer doesn't reach Ghaleon's age and experience -- and doesn't have the experiences that he does -- without learning to pay close attention, and unpack things. He sees that more than Yuna is behind those mismatched eyes.

"I have no doubt that you will, Lady Yuna," he says. "I will tell you something that I think you know, but I prefer to be sure. Many will tell you what you should do. Many will tell you who you are. Pick your own path and stand for what you feel to be right."

Dangerous words, perhaps, from the Magic Emperor.

"That is all anyone should ask of you--ah." He spots the way she ways; Ghaleon has the barest flicker of a widening of his eyes, and then reaches a hand out, to steady her.

"Then take it. There's no fiends to hurry us on our way," he says.

<Pose Tracker> Yuna has posed.

Yuna is an extraordinary child -- and she's had to grow up unimaginably, over and over and over again, perhaps most definitely and finally in the last few days. But she is still very young.

Ghaleon sees that side of her, when he gives her the sort of fatherly advice that she never had much of a chance to receive. It softens and opens her, a little bit like a (very sleepy) flower towards the sun. She doesn't know he's the Magic Emperor; she barely knows what a Dragonmaster might be; she just knows that he's someone who made the same choice she did, despite its -- and the two of their -- many differences.

And he feels it, when he supports her depressingly slight weight. She's just a little bit of a thing.

"Thank you," she mumbles, and though she means for both, mostly she means for the advice. His words linger in her eyes in a way that even the fayth never could. He can watch them become a part of her in real time.

She backs up to the nearest wall -- never far -- and lets her weight shift against it instead.

"I will," she adds, and means both again. She will take her moment... and she will pick her path.

Dangerous words, indeed, as she's already proven spectacularly herself. Look at where they are...

"I met a friend, and a Guardian, down here already," she says worriedly, after a moment. "I was separated from them by fiends. If they aren't here... then it's only because others are in danger."

Isaaru philosophy with a twist. Not an uncommon attitude in a summoner.

A little more shyly than she might have asked a minute ago, she wonders... "Would you like to, um, come find them with me?"

Whatever the war between religions... and whatever his own, personal warnings... right now Ghaleon feels like someone she can trust.

<Pose Tracker> Ghaleon has posed.

Ghaleon is, despite himself and his crimes, not unfamiliar with such a feeling. He had those he cared about; he had companions and friends; he also had people he led. He thinks, and not for the first time, that it is a shame that he threw all of it away.

"Of course," he says. He looks, for a second, thoughtful; his eyes are on her as she speaks.

He remembers what it is like to have friends, after all.

There are pyreflies around him. With those here -- shielding him from the eyes that, otherwise, can always look to him and know what he does -- Ghaleon can agree more easily.

Even if leaving this place means he leaves his freedom.

"Hm, hm, hm--yes. That seems best," he says. "We should hurry them. Travel should always involve companions."