.
It was simple enough to apparently forget to do at times, especially now that he was left to his own devices. Shu and Milo had been particularly helpful, at least with the initial orientation of it all, but maybe it was anxiety that was causing him to forget.
To breathe, that is.
He had to remind himself upon exiting his pod, as well. It was a frustrating thought but one he wasn't about to dismiss out of sheer pride--it'd be a problematic habit if he forgot to breathe at any time in the future, of course. So after a few deep, controlled breaths Rhys gathered himself and walked into the next room where another lab assistant directed him toward The Cove. The assistant wasn't nearly as forward about any information he might have wanted to know (beyond the part about needing his weapon and it being in the Cove), but at least pointed him in the right direction.
He raised brow and grumbled a half-assed thanks before making his way past the assistant and into the cove proper.
It was much smaller than he expected, and darker than he imagined. Truth be told he hadn't given it all that much thought, but he certainly wasn't expecting a small (at least in relation to the pod room), near-pitch black space. He made a mental note to look up the definition of "cove" when he got the chance, though. A quick glance around had him pull the blanket that Shu had graciously given him closed a bit tighter, like he expected it to be even colder due to the severe lack of light or something, and he took another deep breath before beginning his descent.
Down the first step and already he stumbled, and he dropped the flashlight that'd been given to him as he tried to grip something--anything--to regain his balance. He managed to get the wall, thankfully, but he paused for a moment to take a deep breath in hopes of...calming down, maybe. The faint clatter of the small device could be heard echoing down, down until it presumably reached the bottom. The sound itself seemed to indicate that it was...a way's down.
"Great..." he muttered. Now his only guide with each step was the dim torch light and the subtle glow from the base of the stairs. Still, he took another step, then another, and another. Slowly but surely he descended, but still every so often he had ot remind himself to release the breath he didn't realize he was holding so he could breathe properly. He expected to get calmer, for things to become clearer, as each step drew him closer to the bottom, but the closer he got the tighter his chest felt, and the fuzzier things seemed to get.
His vision blurred some, and his hands and feet started to tingle rather strangely. He tried to attribute it to his own mixed nervousness and excitement, but something about that place told him that that wasn't entirely the case. About halfway down an odd, rather lonely sounding hum starting to fill his ears. The further down the steps he got the louder it got, and the more familiar it became, until finally he reached the bottom and the hum turned into almost deafening silence.
And then a quiet giggle at first.
The sound then seemed to resonate after a moment, fading from one ear then going to the other and back, calling his eyes from one end of the room to another. He took steps almost blindly, trying to follow where it led him. Or at least that's what it seemed like it was doing.
Breathe, Rhys, he had to think again, and he curled his lip incredulously. Ridiculous.
It was a basic, autonomic life function. At least that's what his biology teacher had droned on about for the first two days of class way back when he last bothered to go to school.
- ‹ You won't ever forget again, if I have anything to say about it. ›
He froze where he stood, before one of the stones with a glowing symbol on it. It was vaguely familiar, like he'd seen in it some movie or another, but however he racked his brain no name or specific reference came to mind. Still, he kept his focus on it. The giggles had stopped as soon as he came upon this particular stone, as soon as she spoke, but even as he looked carefully there was nothing that suggested she was behind it.
Rhy glanced around; still, there was nothing. No one else.
With eyes trained back on that paradoxically dull yet bright glow he finally replied quietly. Cautiously. "Was this what Milo was talkin' about?" he asked.
- ‹ Am I in your head, is that your question? ›
She sounded oddly amused and irritated at the same time. He kept quiet, though he knew what his answer was.
- ‹ Why you humans ask when you seem to already know the answer is just beyond me. ›
Despite himself, despite the slightest of insults twisted in with her words, he smiled. Barely, but smiled nonetheless. And in his mind she seemed to smile as well.
Wry, but it was a smile.
- ‹ Really, you haven't got all day, Geoffrey. ›
"Rhys." She chuckled at the sudden irritation in his tone, to which he huffed again. "It's Rhys."
- ‹ Go on, then...Rhys. ›
It was barely a whisper in his mind, really, but at her words he raised a hand to the glowing rune directly in front of him. To the one that seemed most familiar, the one that glowed an oddly subdued, pale blue.
- ‹ Go on. ›
Slowly, gently he pulled the rune up and away from the wall, his eyes widening ever so slightly as it changed in both size and shape until it was finally free from its confines. It was metal, mostly. Big. Light. Sharp. He didn't need to question what its only plausible use in this life was. Instead he inspected it, tested its weight in his hand. Admired it, if only in brief.
It was beautiful, he thought in passing.
She was beautiful.
"So what do I call you?" he asked, still primarily preoccupied with the blade he now possessed. Her laugh--cold yet eerily melodious--echoed in the furthest reaches of his mind.
- ‹ Zephira. ›
"Zephira."
- ‹ That's right. We're partners from today, onward. Do you know what that means? ›
Silence, then he shook his head slightly. She seemed to follow suit and answered with a beat of silence as well, but her words eventually tumbled into his thoughts as he started to exit the room.
- ‹ You're breathing for the both of us now. ›
