Bashshar descended down the staircase, his steps slow, careful. His legs still protested the movement, and he wasn't going to push his luck in this dark. The light coming from the pod room, where he had been rather unceremoniously 'hatched', quickly diminished behind him. There were a few moments of almost complete darkness, before a faint glow of new light caught his brown eyes. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, he gravitated to that light source, a single torch. But, he supposed that they didn't need much more light than this. The room was... surprisingly small, hardly what he would consider a 'cove'.

There was also no one down here, despite Solia's assurances that there would be. He glanced behind him, wondering if he should ascend the staircase again and return to the girl. Would she even be there? He supposed not. A heavy sigh almost echoed in the dark chamber, his breath carrying just the softest tone of his voice. He did a lot of that, sighing, usually right before he caved to an idea and followed through with it. This time, he was resisting the idea to go back up the stairs. Instead he walked towards the center of the room, just so the light barely touched him.

Brown eyes swept over the room, marveling at the formation of the wall. Rows and rows of tablets, with symbols etched into the stone. He had no idea what the symbols meant, or even what culture they originated from. It was strange, but also it was rather clear that no one was here. No one at all, just him with his own thoughts. Fragments of memory didn't even come back to him now - the silence was powerful, resounding. He breathed a little more openly just so noise could infiltrate the quiet room.

He stepped up to one side of the wall, fingertips gently tracing over the runes. It was then that the silence was penetrated, a husky hum almost billowing into the room now. It took him aback, and he too-quickly pulled away from the wall.

Don't run now. I will not let you go. The voice was odd, aged but youthful, hoarse but soft. But, overall it was commanding... and the very last thing Bashshar expected.

"What the ********?" was his initial response, an instinctive reaction of disbelief as the voice pierced his skull.

You are perfect, and you will listen. Come now, you are better than this.

Was it... female? But there was no one in this room, and the voice was not audible in the normal sense. He heard it, but it almost came from within rather than from outside of him. It wasn't like the humming he had just heard, no, she was far more solid than that.

Do not hesitate, I have waited long enough for you, and I would not enjoy waiting longer. The voice paused, as if taking brief consideration for his confusion. Embrace me again. I do not know how your instinct could be so good, but you found me almost before I found you. But not before, no, she was far better than he.

Bashshar hesitated, which was almost unusual for the young man. But, his indecision did not last more than a few seconds. He stepped back up to the tablet, fingers grasping at its edges and removing it from the wall. The tablet changed, to black steel with red runes glowing against the matter. A golden hilt laid against his palm, and his fingers instinctively closed around the metal. He stared at the sword, marveling for a few moments over its curvature, even the odd spikes forming the sword's handle. "This is you." It wasn't a question, he knew that the voice belonged to this weapon, and that this weapon now belonged to him.

Was this... the person he was supposed to meet?

Yes, but not a person, never a person. Kanbo. I do believe we will work well together, Bashshar.

"...and you read my mind."

And hear you talk.

"Well... okay then." Nothing he could say really would change the truth - he couldn't very well deny that this weapon was hearing him, talking with him, even being a little bit bossy towards him. He frowned, giving the sword a test swing.

That was terrible form.

Sigh.