What is going on with you, Quill of the Ocean?
He was obviously not finding any answers on Earth, which left him with one other place the Squire could seek out the information.
Once he had returned to the rooftop of the building he lived in, he said his oath. His surroundings faded from the Earthly setting and melded into the form of the usual setting of Neptune. Nysa was in no mood to get seasick, so he instantly turned away from the large panel that gave a lovely view of the Wonder he served. He quickly reached into the interior pocket of his coat and pulled out the offending object.
"...what is wrong with you?!" he demanded of the feather in an icy tone.
Of course, the feather had no response.
With an agitated sigh, the young lad moved forward, as if trying to distance himself from the offending panel that looked over Nysa. The Squire had spent some time at the wonder, though it was mostly renovating the things which had been destroyed years ago. He had been so focused upon cleaning that he had missed what looked like a panel against one of the walls.
It was only now that the young lad was getting a good look at such a panel. There seemed to be a small placard with a small groove in it. A groove that looked strikingly familiar. It only took a momentary glance to the signet ring upon his hand for him to figure out what it meant. He placed the ring over the groove, and the two fit together perfectly. There was a subtle ripple of energy that momentarily filled the room before the panel slid open with great ease.
What was waiting for him behind the panel was not something he was expecting. He stepped in cautiously, like a cat in new territory, looking about the room.
...a trophy room?
This room had obviously been spared whatever disaster had occurred in the previous room. There were display cases that held impressive weapons and trophies. The weapons seemed to be more for display purposes, though the young squire couldn't help but admire the impressive collection of swords. The weapons seemed very similar to those he was more accustomed to sparring with in fencing.
There were even spaces upon a wall where several medals were hung out. There were a couple bronzed medals, a silver medal, and even a golden one.
He must have been an accomplished man...
Nysa could not explain it, but for a moment he couldn't help but feel drawn to the silver medal. A gloved finger nearly drifted in to touch it.
"I would appreciate it if you did not touch my medals, young Squire."
The squire fought the instinct to jerk his head around to facing the spirit of his ancestor. Instead, he coolly turned around to face the spirit of the man who used to hold the title of Nysa. The current title-holder had been wearing a rather serious expression this whole time, so now as he placed a smile upon his lips, it felt odd for a couple moments. "Ancestor, pray tell, have you been here this whole time?"
The man looked over his medal, his own gloved hands reaching to touch the object, but his fingers simply passed through the metal. "I am always here, and I am not here, young Squire. Keep this in mind."
Nysa couldn't help but pity his ancestor. His soul had yet to be put to rest. He was simply a ghost, having to watch the world go on without him. A dead world go on without him. "...Ancestor... might I ask what this medal is for?"
Once more, the spirit seemed to try and touch the medal again, but his fingers passed through. "Have you heard of the Olympics, young Squire?"
The younger of the pair nodded his head, though the distracted spirit didn't see, so he had to reply "I have."
"Well, we knights would participate in the games. It was our honor to participate in the games." Glancing back to the solid figure, the spirit commented "This medal I am particularly fond of. I was only bested by one other when it came to swordplay..."
"...swordplay? Such as fencing?"
The spirit's eyes seemed to light up briefly and a smile touched his features. "Ah, you are familiar with the sport!"
"I dabble in the sport as well, Ancestor."
With the smile still touching his features, the spirit uttered "Perhaps you are ready then..." He did not explain what he meant as the spirit turned away, and with a flourish of the cape the figure disappeared again.
As soon as the Squire was left alone, the Quill of the Ocean, which had been in his hand the whole time, began to glow. The soft feather seemed to stiffen within his hand, and one end shot out in length. When the weapon had stopped glowing, the Quill of the Ocean seemed to have taken a new shape.
"...oh... my...." The young man held out the sabre in front of him, experimentally cutting through the air with the weapon made of seashell. At the end of the base, a ribbon and a feather dangled as he made the motions.
"...this... feels more natural..." he uttered softly. That feeling of awkwardness had completely left him. Everything felt natural once more.
"...thank you..."
Nysa stepped back, then returned back to the main room. It was there that he would say his oath again and return to Earth, once more empowered in his search for Neptune.
