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[ She notes how he is unarmed... Maybe none of his weapons came with him when he appeared in this world? Or maybe he truly is serious about only learning to channel more of his abilities. Either way, it earns him a slight raise of her brow from her. For her part, Pyra remains unchanged.

She smiles at him regardless, walking down from the steps leading up to the tree-like decorated columns of the temple. They will not be entering, but instead turning away from how the god’s motif of wings, of birds in flight opening up to the heavens. Pyra stops just a foot or so away from him, extending her hand, and if he takes it, she will begin leading him eastward. ]

I... assume you’re not scared of the darkness, are you?

[ It’s another reason, the second out of three, of why she chose night for them to begin for all of his mentioning of daemons roaming when the sun vanishes past the horizon.

[He accepts her hand without much prompting, allowing himself to be led. See, she's training him well already, he's getting used to that part. At her question he merely shakes his head at first, though he adds after a moment's thought,]

Anybody from Eos knows to be at least a little scared of the dark. Or at least wary to be outside at night. This isn't Eos, though, so it's fine.

[If anything he's on edge, more on guard, and that can only help him stay focused during training, so it isn't a bad thing. The tension of his body may carry through in their joined hands, despite his attempt to be gentle.]

[ She notices, of course; she's held his hand twice before now, in which those other two times had been completely without tension.

In any case, holding hands is what she must do as the bare minimum to help, to do what she can. For unlike him, she brings no light to the world. What they're doing is not enough, if the barrier had been weak enough to break.

She regards him curiously. ] Does this mean you have never enjoyed the night? [ A pause, and she amends: ] ...Or, ah, never had the chance to enjoy how... peaceful night is, in your world?

[Tension aside, he's unbothered by the contact, at least. Evidently handholding is only a cause of uncertainty for him when he doesn't know where he stands with the person; with her, he's well aware of this expectation st this point.]

I wouldn't say that. The havens set up in between towns are protected spaces, marked by the Oracle. Daemons can't cross the threshold, so anyone camping is safe for the night. So long as we make sure to stop there and not out in the wild, we can sleep under the stars just fine.

[Granted, it's not always quiet because daemons and monsters can still lurk around the shelter, but they were never attacked in a camp, so it's as peaceful as it could ever get.]

[ The Oracle. Luna.

And as for sleeping beneath the stars.... Her gaze strays from him, turning upward. There barrier remains intact, for now, shielding them all. Beyond it, the wastelands and the harsh, caustic, storm raging beyond. How is it that they can see the moon above if the storm consumes all? Is it an illusion, or is that that storm cannot consume even the skies above the city itself? Or, maybe, the eye itself of the storm is centered upon this haven. She doesn't know, but regardless if the celestial bodies above are real or not--

She points his attention upward. ]

Look. What do you see?

[He follows her gaze upwards, studying the dome's interior visual for a long moment. It's high up and impossible to discern from the visible sky; the only way he can tell it's the barrier is where the wall stands, knowing it must go up from there. Whatever magic creates it is impressive, and familiar in a distant sort of way. He grew up in a city covered by a magic barrier, so he knows a few things to look for, but Lucis was different. The barrier was transparent, the magic an echo of his own from the Crystal, and the sky above it was real.

This sky is unique. The stars above are vague and indistinct, no recognizable patterns or constellations that he'd know.]

A really, really fancy painting on the ceiling. It's fake, right?

It still has a purpose, though.

[ Regardless if the sky above is not real.

One day, however, she would love to see the real stars. She used to be able to create them; suns, to float beside her like lights. That power is absent in this world, taken from her. She doesn't know why, but it's become incredibly more lonely because of it. She wishes to see real stars again. It's been so long.... ] It protects.

[ Leading him further away from the temple, they turn about this street and that. ] And... can't you make wishes upon even false stars?

[Well, she's not wrong- it does certainly protect, and that's something he can appreciate. His father's shields have always given him comfort, even if they also caused a great deal of anxiety as he grew and began to understood what it was doing.

At her question, his head cants slightly to one side, confused and curious.]

I... don't know. I've never actually wished on a star.

[Is that a thing? Do people do that??]

[ With one hand, she waves towards the false heavens. ]

Try!

[......why

why would people wish on stars? stars mean night, and night is bad because daemons?

He blinks owlishly at her for a moment, trying to parse the logic of it before finally shrugging it off. It makes about as much sense as anything she expects of him.

Looking up once more, he focuses on the fake stars and calls up,]

I... wish I could learn actual magic?

[He glances back at her, briefly. Like that? Just a wish?]

[ ...What.... What was that.... ]

[ She can't help but laugh. ]

You sound so.... so uncertain! [ She manages to speak between giggles. ] The stars can't hear you like that!

[....

UUUUUGH. He just. buries his face in a hand.]

The stars can't hear anything, they're not even real!

[ Her giggles continue to ring softly in the night. ] Or maybe they're so old, they've lost their hearing. You have to speak up.

[--UUUUUUUUGH--

With a frustrated exhale, he tries again, louder this time, a shout that echoes down the streets around them.]

Hey! Stars! Give me magic already!

[If he can yell at his own gods then he can yell at fake stars made by other gods, sure.]

[ There it is, a wish so powerful that he must shout it out loud. That's the vigor he needs-- the same vigor that will help him fulfill his own wish. She laughs, delighted with the result, swinging their hands happily...

And at last she turns to face him. They're in the plaza where they first met. ]

Okay. Now we're ready to begin.

Edited 2019-11-22 06:30 (UTC)

[Huh... that was weirdly cathartic, in retrospect. He remains focused on the stars for a long moment after as the echo of his voice fades away, daring them to do anything. They don't, of course, but when he looks back down he is surprised at their location. They'd been walking, but it hadn't truly clicked where they were headed until they arrived.

Okay. Here we go, then.]

What's step one?

[ Here, she lifts his hand that she has in hers, bring her other around to lift it up between them. There, she spreads his fingers out, palm upward.

Calloused, and yet... he carries no weapons.

Recalling when he had mentioned before to her-- about there being a "pocket" from which he draws his power and other objects-- she wonders if whatever he wields comes from there. In that case, she had been completely wrong to ask him to bring anything.

Pyra steps away, releasing his hand. ] You have to call your power forth.

[ Then after a moment, she adds: ] Tell me if I must stand back further. [ THis, she suggests because she doesn't know how dangerous it is or how accurately he wields it. ]

[Not knowing means she might not like his immediate answer. He shakes his head, unconsciously calling for the Crystal's pull - even if it isn't here, something responds. His whole body pulses with a soft blue glow, lighting up in the dark, there and gone again in a second.]

You're fine where you are. My power's mostly reactive, though- can you throw a punch?

[A beat, before he realizes how that might sound, and then-]

Or- throw something, either's fine. I promise it's safe.

[ She tilts her head. Reactive... as in it is difficult to channel otherwise? The spark of blue, was that activating his power in preparation, or is it that he cannot sustain it...?

Regardless, that flash of light just then had been brilliant, not unlike the breath of a star as it sparks its first fusion, finally coming into being.

Despite her unvoiced questions, she leans down to pick up a pebble. Light, round, and marbled-- it probably comes from the tiles of one of the buildings nearby. ]

Mm. [ A nod, then she tosses the pebble at him. ]

[A pebble isn't much for an attack, but he's been fighting Niffs long enough that he's gotten used to dodging bullets, so it's the same core concept. As the stone comes close to hitting him the blue glow returns, his form shifting to pure energy for a split second, a brilliant ephemeral light glittering in the dark in a shower of sparks. His body moves as the pebble soars through the spot he was just a moment ago, and suddenly he's standing a few inches to the left, the glowing afterimage gently fading out of existence.

A dodge isn't much of a demonstration, he knows, so he stretches a hand out and pulls from within. That same light flashes again, this time forming into a longsword that materializes out of nothing, blue at first before it too phases into reality. He lifts the sword and flings it as hard as he can towards the nearest building; the blade tears past where Pyra is standing and slams into the stone. As it flies, Noctis shifts into energy and follows it, a split-second's pace, not even the timeframe of a breath taken. In the spot where Noctis began is the blue frame of energy that echoes his posture from the moment he'd warped away, frozen in place like a phantom statue. That sharp strand of blue energy streaks past her as well, and when the sword sinks into the stone, Noct is just there now, hanging from the wall by the grip of his sword, his free hand lifting to wave at her.]

See what I mean?

[The entire demonstration takes a matter of seconds, and he's gone from one side of the plaza to the other. In the aftermath, there's a softly-electric feel lingering in the air, magic essence centralized between the transparent blue outline and himself. As the seconds pass, so too does that feeling, along with his "double".]

[ A breath escapes her when she witnesses the first display of his power, the slight shift in space itself that leaves the spot in which he had been standing empty save for his after-image. Her eyes remains onto his silhouette of bright blue light, the outline of which wavers with the lingering impulse of energy used for the dodge.

Her head snaps to him when she catches a second flash. Another image carves into the space before him. Light solidifies into metal, summoned from seemingly nothing to form a defined edge, and he swipes the resulting weapon out of the air as if selecting the sword from a rack. It's not over.

Noctis tosses the sword like a javelin, and she nearly gasps when he vanishes before her to follow through its trajectory. Blue light vectors after him like an afterthought of lightening, shimmering in the air like snow suspended in moonlight.

Pyra steps forth. In the darkness, the trailing glow appears even more brilliant, illuminating a direct path from where he had been to where he is now; it's a link between what once was to what is, from the past to the present. She lifts a hand to the trail of light just as it vanishes, catching the last bit of glimmering particles of blue-white as it fades. His summoned sword, his attack-- this power is a weaver's edge through the canvas of space itself. And it feels...

"Look.... Mythra, come look at this..."

Her lips part, lifting her gaze to see where Noctis hangs from his greatsword. ]

[ She's here. She's watching. And she's doing the same, stepping up to the trail and running her fingers through it. With the image suspended within her mindscape, the recreation only shifts slightly with her touch. It's not the same at actually feeling it, though, as Pyra does in reality.

Through Pyra, she feels a... magnificence to the energy, something that hints towards a beyond. The ephemeral afterglow of the blue-hued light is deceptive, beautiful as it may be. Soft though the light may appear, the lingering buzz of power she feels is harsh and unyielding, more refined than the strongest steel, far sharper than anything man-made, and-- heavy, dense, profound, boiling, bright-- brilliant, overwhelming.

She had likened Noctis's god-runes as if he had been touched by three different stars. With this power, she feels as if it's a star that impossibly never loses mass when it lends its light. Except unlike the chaos of the stars, all of it is refined. All of it is precise. And all of it strikes at the core of her own energy like phalanx, a legion of blades whose edges refract an august light, threatening to blind anyone who looks upon it.

That impossibility is how she knows it is divine, and it-- it feels wonderful. ]

....Noctis!

[ She takes a few steps forward. He's all the way at the other end of the plaza. Come back, she waves, her eyes alight with amazement. ]

That was... incredible. How is it--

[ She seems to start to speak again, stops, thinks, and then continues. ] ....You... you are not afraid... of using this power?

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