Private Tales Steppebound

The figment of Ispir did not even try to defend itself from her dismissal, her attack, and as the illusion unraveled from around her Ispir, the real one, would currently be worriedly fretting over her. Checking her arms for her pulse, softly calling her name, only to startle as Vyx'aria seemed to finally return to her senses. Which earned a small, shaky smile from him as he began to speak. Only to pause as spoke, confusing him, and when she began to walk without any explanation he would scamper after her once again.

"H-Hey! Ria wait!"

He called gently, following her deeper into the carved black stone hallway, only to stop as they came upon.... a door. Old, stone wrought and thick. Ispir, eyeing the door for a moment, would then whirl around in front of her and look up at her face with concern. True, honest worry over her wellbeing etched into every inch of his face as he asked.

"What happened? You kinda just.... stopped moving back there. I was really worried a-......"

A small pause before he lowered his gaze, finishing the sentence much more softly than he had began it.

".....about you."

Shaking his head he would step aside, looking between the door, then at Ria, and back again before lifting the light in his palm to illuminate it's surface. He bit his lip, wanting to ask her what she had meant by her being exactly what she was supposed to be, but he didn't dare pry. Whatever had happened had upset her... more than he had ever seen at least. So he simply wait to see if she answered him, or focused on the door ahead, but whatever her decision he would respect it.

Despite his worry for her.​

At her muttering Ispir shook his head, twin tails swishing through the air, only for him to give a tiny, worried gasp at her growl. It wasn't a noise of fear, not directly, not the noise a slave at her mercy would make. A possession waiting to see how it may be thrown into the wall and shattered in a fit of rage by it's owner. No the noise was softer, gentler, given willingly and concerned FOR her. Not for what she might do.

Ispir would frown as she mentioned something digging into her mind, looking disturbed, and would nod shakily. The fact that Ria was warning him about something made him tense in worry, nodding a quick, tight nod before he approached the door with her. Soft, aquamarine light would bathe the door before them and as Ispir read it's riddle his face would becoming more and more hopeless before he let out a long, sad moan of defeat.

"Ooooh. Oh no. I'm.... I'm not good at riddles Ria. I-...."

Ispir would suddenly freeze, his eyes widening, staring at the wall, at nothing. The hand holding his light aloft would begin to droop, the light flickering like a candle dying in a whirlwind. His voice growing faint as he murmured.

"... w-why is everything... getting so far away....?"

Two seconds. Two seconds was all that passed before Ispir snapped upright, frowning deeply, as angry as a kitten that had just been given a bath as he pouted up at the ceiling.

"Hey! S-Stop that! You can't make me think things I don't wanna think what... whatever you are!"

Sticking his tongue out defiantly he would huff and then wince, shaking his head, and step back towards Ria.

"I said stop!"

A moment passed, then two, and Ispir would lift his light higher, causing it to bloom fully once more, and give something that could charitably be called close to a 'growl' of his own. Though less guttural and more 'cute' than threatening.

"Geez. Whatever it is it's stubborn."

Blowing his hair up out of his face in exasperation he would then smile and look up at Ria proudly.

"Don't worry Ria, looks like they can't mess with my head, I just forget the funny words they're muttering as soon as they say them."

Vyx'aria​

Ispir would blink, eyes wide, cheeks flushing softly at being called a 'curious creature'. Only for him to then shake his head at low, murmured words.

"It's not...."

He didn't have time to finish before her grumbled warning came and he sighed, exasperated. His arm not holding the spell drooping as he closed his eyes and hung his head. Mumbling rather loudly.

"Oh no, not you too."

Rubbing at his face he would blink his eyes open and follow her through the door, not even having seen what she did to open it in his somewhat dramatic reaction. When next he spoke his words were insistent, even upset just a bit, but honest in a way that was unmistakable for even the most cunning, silver-tongued deception.

"I-I don't know what these 'fae' things you and Irman Harefoot seem to think I am even are but I don't think I'm one of them. Maybe umm... Maybe they're the ones who took my memories?"

Ispir paused, frowning at his own words, disliking the conclusion he reached before he suddenly asked.

"H-Hey Ria....? You don't.... want me to forget you, right?"

There was a softness, heartachingly delicate, to his tone. As if his words were woven of the thinnest, most luxurious gossamer silk.

"Once we're done with this... I mean? If you vanish underground forever how will I ever see you again?"

He was more than a little fumbling with trying to get his point across: that he did wish to see her again, and didn't want either distance or his own faulty memory to prevent that.

As the two reached the end of the hallway behind the door they would find it opening into a large, square room. A series of stone walkways would cross in a cross pattern, of which they were currently at the bottom. At the corners of the room off the walkways there were open drops down into unfathomable darkness, broken only by the presence of thick, trapping webs and numerous arachnids large enough to bundle Vyx'aria or her companion up and drain their insides as a single meal. For the moment they would use their forelimbs to shield their eyes from Ispir's light, but their hisses definitely spelled their displeasure clearly.

Meanwhile at the center of the crossed pathways was a single, ancient suit of armor, halberd gripped in a gauntleted hand. The head of the halberd plunged into the stonework beneath it as the armor knelt down upon one knee, head bowed, unmoving. Ispir didn't even seem to notice the spiders as he stared warily at the immobile armor ahead of them.

Vyx'aria​

Her answer was both so much more then he could have ever have asked for, but also left an odd sort of pressure in his chest. Something not-quite-pain lingering there like an old, throbbing wound that had been disturbed after years of dormancy. Something about how Ria had said what she did, along with giving him her cloak, both made him happy and... sad. It was a wonderful feeling, it was a terrible feeling, as he bundled that cloak that smelled like her even tighter and sheepishly nestled himself deeper into it's hood.

He could never admit it, not now anyways, but it made him feel.... safe. Even here, even now, but for as many songs as he had written and poems he had drafted, he didn't have the words nor the bravery to tell her that.

How would he? That a woman more deep shadow and flashing daggers than he had ever met, who was also gasps at starlight and the soft embrace of a warm cloak, had gently begun to make him associate her with safety. Never mind that they had only traveled together two days or so. Plus she was from a culture known for despising men and doing all sorts of....

Ispir was shaken from his reverie by the rasp of Vyx'aria 's blade sliding free. The hiss of her tongue went unrecognized by the spiders, intelligence absent in their many eyes, and in line with the door they had just walked through each ends of the walkways before them, all three, bore the symbol of an element above them that Ispir's light just barely reached well enough to illuminate for Ria. Directly across from them was earth, meaning the door they emerged from was air, the surface, and the doors to the left and right sides of the room were flame and water.

Ispir would jump as the old man's voice echoed through the chamber, blinking rapidly, and Ispir would reach out for Ria gently. A soft hand landing on her shoulder as he began to speak, only for an odd, wet sound to emanate from below and Ispir would find the hand that bore his light spell sniped by a thick wad of webbing. Sending him reeling back, the light extinguished, he yelped, and his hand was stuck fast to the wall just barely off of the walkway.

Ispir, due to his short height, had to arc onto the tips of his toes to stop himself from falling off the walkway, using the adhesive of the web as leverage as he panted and gasped, staring down into darkness.... as the spiders surged forward in a barely-audible rush of hissing fangs and venom. Another wad of webbing being shot right at Vyx'aria from the left wall.​