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Ash'rael beamed. Well, it was a start. Better than constantly fighting, at least...

"I'm glad that you think so too," she said, smiling. But it faded when she tried to step away and tripped over yet another badly placed pile of large hardcover books.

"Ack!" she cried, toppling herself and the large tomes onto the ground. Ouch... Looking over, she found herself face to face with some small creature. Wait a minute, she recognized him!

"Aren't you...aren't you the one that we met while fighting those machines?" she tilted her head. Odd, what was he doing here? She recalled something about him being...a merchant or trader? Ash'rael couldn't remember.

She tried to stand but just ended up getting herself into an even bigger mess. Great...

It was like a charity. For all the noise that Trask had made, the two already in this room matched it and donated twofold in return. Still, Zilden was unperturbed from his studies. He must have have been captivated in studies of the metaphysics of magic for such a disturbance to go wholly unnoticed, or to be dismissed if noticed at all. Meanwhile, two acquaintances from earlier had caught his attention. He stepped off of "Homonid Transmutation Basics and You!" long enough for a gust of wind to close the book, back cover facing upwards, and turned to Ash'rael.

"Fighting the machines? Yeah, that was me. I've got to talk to a man about a dead man and bringing this dead man back to life, and one of those men is Zilly, in that room over there." Trask gestured to the study where increasingly frantic sounding scribbles could be heard, then realized that half of what he'd just said made no sense at all. He shook his head and set down his ruddy leather backpack, from which he procured a tiny glowing orb, only slightly larger than a pinprick of light. To an ordinary observer, it appeared to be no more or less than a child's marble, but the dancing lights and shadow inside, as well as the dull, low, and quiet hum emanating from it, combined with the fact that it floated nearly an inch off of the palm of Trask's hand betrayed its extraordinary supernatural qualities.

Trask stared deeply into the center of the orb, its soothing lights calming his soul. "Zilden will probably say something completely tactless when he recognizes what this is, which he will probably do almost immediately, so I guess I should let you know beforehand, so you don't get the full shock of it, but... This is a caged baby universe." The lizard waited a moment before continuing, "Any excess sonic dissonance inside this universe gets converted... into music." Here, a grin spread across his face, which looked rather awkward, considering the shape of his reptilian mouth was not conducive to any sort of smiling. "It was a 'special delivery' for my company, but I think they won't mind if I use it for a bit to talk to Zilden in more private quarters."

Zilden plainly heard all the conversation taking place outside his door, but he decided he was much too busy to stop. Or at least, thats what he thought, until he looked down at his "report" and instead saw a doodle of something that was conceivably a fluffy kitten. It was hard to tell, his art skills without precise measuring tools and scientific diagrams was limited.
He took a moment to stare at his "masterpiece" before crumpling it up. He never read anything from his own reports anyway, and the sky would fall before any Solminic scholar would take his reports seriously. Still he had to try. Prevention of the end of the universe seemed worth the effort, no matter how futile.

He stood stiffly and looked at the clock adorning his study's wall, then shuffled quietly out, making quite a nondescript entrance just as Valenarr left the room. From the doorway, he couldn't help but smile when he saw Trask. With his miniature universe no less.
"A-Erm, Telor. Glad to see you finally got the Harmonic Resonance Universe I ordered. Now, if everything is in order, I'll just make sure it's according to specification, and I have something that might interest you. And you as well Ash, though I don't know how much fascination the concept of flight holds with you." When he finished this sentence, he whistled a low A flat, watching with delight, or at least whatever was comparable in Zilly's universe, as the small orb of light glowed a little more brightly and resonated with a pitch two octaves above his own. "Perfect. Now, time to see if all those music lessons I got as a child were worth anything."

Striding quickly over to a small bookshelf not far from the doorway he was standing in, Zilden thumbed his way through the books, searching for a specific title, until in true cliche fashion, he pulled out one specific book and

WhrrrgRRRK

"Erm..." Zilden blinked for a moment at the half opened passageway behind the bookcase before violently punching the book, causing the bookcase to swing the rest of the way.

"Hoo boy...hope the rest of the basement's gears aren't that rusty...." he thought to himself as he edged his way into the foreboding passage beyond the bookcase.

The Mirrian in the other room heard something move. Peeking out of the other room, hoping to perhaps see strange creatures having replaced his friends, or maybe random body parts everywhere with Zilden holding some machine about to betray him, or something of the sort involving violence, gore, or sadistic humor.

However he saw naught but a bookcase open. It went underground. Finally! A chance to remember what it was like in his ancestral home! Not really caring if he was invited or not, Valenarr strode down after them, able to see quite well in the dark.

He saw the Youland edging her way down the stairs. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Want me to guide you?" He offered. Perhaps being in a place like this made Valenarr feel a bit more... kind. Or maybe he just felt like helping her.

Or maybe he'd feel bad (though he'd still laugh) if she made a fool of herself.

Ash'rael jumped when she felt someone's hand on her shoulder. Hearing the voice, she realized it was the Mirran and relaxed...somewhat. Then again, when had he ever wanted to be helpful? Okay, so besides the point of destroying those numerous dangerous robots...

"S-sure," she replied, hesitantly, unable to see. If there was a fork in their rode, then she would probably run smack into the middle. Then, be completely lost as to where to go. Hmmm...not a pleasant thought.

"Thanks," she added. Though he didn't seem like the kindest creature, she was sure that he could probably see in the dark, making him an excellent guide at this point. She could barely hear the footsteps of Zilly anymore. It would be nearly impossible to find her way back if she got lost. Then, there was also the problem of tripping over something...

Just as she had the thought, a bit of dust got into her nose, making her eyes water. She couldn't hold it in any longer and sneezed. This force made her completely off balance, plus the added weight of her tail and she started to stumble backwards, unable to stop herself.

"Well not all of us can see in the dark, you know!" she huffed, trying to speed up a bit. It didn't really seem to make a difference since she was cautiously trying not to fall again.

Really! The nerve of him...he was the one who had offered to be her guide and now he was being so pushy! She mentally sighed. Well, Ash didn't really want to start bickering again, not after she had just made up her mind to try and make peace with the Mirran. Guess, she would just have to put up with him...

"How long is this passage?" she thought, "It seems to go on forever!" Obviously, it wasn't possible for the tunnel to go on forever, but it sure seemed quite long. Wherever their destination was, it must be quite far underground and away from Zilly's house. It seemed like they could make it to the coast by now!

The flying machine was exactly as he'd imagined. Well, not exactly, but statements like those always give people that warm and fuzzy feeling that everything is all right. Even had the machine fitted his imagination perfectly, there was still one very easily identifiable problem. Before attending to that, though Trask felt he should explain Zilden's last words to the other two standing beside him.

Turning to them, he stated in a calm and neutral voice, "Well, Zilly let it slip already, so I might as well let you know. My birthname is Alexander Trask. I was born in to a family of relatively well means, but for all that money, my dream could never be accomplished. I wanted to fly. The Solmi needed an test pilot for their flying machine, so I signed up right away, and, lucky for me, I was picked out of the lot. The machine kept having bugs, though, so it wasn't finished while I was around. I would have stayed forever, but I was in a bar with my friends after another failed attempt at flight, and I hit on some psycho b***h-woman, who overreacted way more than was neccessary. Too bad for me, she turned me into a lizard, curiously similar to Dzali, but without wings, and she taunted me by giving me magical flight. Yes, I'm telling the truth."

He couldn't really read the expressions on Ash and Valenarr's faces, but he assumed that they'd be either disbelieving, or experiencing mild shock from too much input all at once.

"The fire manipulation I learned, and I've always been that agile, but the flying was just there to taunt me. Of course I love being able to fly, but I love being human, too, and I hate being so small and cold-blooded."

After a brief pause, Trask looked over the ship, inspecting each part of it meticulously. It all appeared to be in excellent condition, perfect for operation by human hands. "You can call me Trask for now, since this isn't my original body, and doesn't deserve my original name. Now that I think about it, you could call me Trask after I figure out how to be human again, since that's my last name. I'll recognize either of my names as my own, though."

((Ohhh so dialogue-heavy ;_; Sorry. Definitely not the best post ever, either, but I was falling behind.))

Valenarr hadn't even been paying attention, not really caring what exactly was going on in the first place. He was just wondering why he had even come down here in the first place and what all this meant, but he didn't make the connection that perhaps if he listened he would find out. And so he went on in deaf ignorance.

Standing with his arms crossed, chainmail clinking and swords clattering somewhat, Valenarr looked around this cave. The machine didn't strike him as much; there were many in the Great Caverns that were derelict and unable to function; most that had these giant, iron noses that looked as if they were supposed to spin, perhaps to bore into the earth...

He examined the waterfall, taking a few bored steps towards the sparkling, falling waters, wondering exactly where these came from, and what purpose they served... and also, where the water was going.

But that didn't exactly matter at this moment, apathetic as always, Valenarr didn't exactly care about the water, from where it came or to where it went. After all, he had to maintain his shroud of apathy, lest emotion show through, and that would be a very, very bad thing.

With a shrug, he returned his gaze to the diminutive lizard and the crazed scientist companions that he could have, should have, left to rot so long ago... Even though it was, most likely, less than a day or perhaps less than a few hours, and he wondered, for a moment, if he had made the right decision. He had always gone his own path, done things his own way, always... ever since his exile.

And once again, he was reminded, glaringly, by the presence of the force that was a constant bane upon his existence; the sun. He shielded his eyes and longed for his robe once again, so that he could use the hood to hide his sensitive eyes and bask in the darkness as he used to, and he actually debated upon returning to the dark passageway, which reminded him so much of his ancestral home, the Grand Underpassages, the Great Caverns, the Unending Underground...

There were many names for his ancestral home, and he used them all with affection... but with a longing, hating the people more than the place. Mirrians... He hated his ancestors, now. He loathed them with a passion that was used in the loathing of the fiery orb that hung over this sun-scorched hellhole that they called the surface world...

He belonged neither here nor there, a man wanted not by his dark parentage nor the world he was thrust upon, the sun-worshippers who, Valenarr was convinced, were blinded by the fiery orb they gazed upon for answers... A man not wanted by any, save for these few... Misfits such as himself? Perhaps. He did not know. He did not care.

He wanted to be alone, and he wanted time to find himself a business in which he could profit and stay alive... but still have some fun.

And there was but one sport which was dubbed fun by any Mirrian, the only sport that existed in Mirrian society: the sport of bloodletting.