"Right? Nobody would be able to reach them, and it's far more defensible. You can go anywhere from a tree. Underground you're just...stuck."

Zveran keeps one hand on the wall as he starts down, frowning the whole way.

Masque doesn't touch the wall, does in fact seem to have their eyes fixed on the ground.

Not that they aren't usually quiet, but this time Masque seems...unusually so. Zveran can't blame them, the air is still and the chamber is claustrophobic. 

"After I defeat Sin, you should go somewhere sunny. Maybe a nice beach. Or even just a field. Somewhere with the sun directly overheard always."

"Never been a fan of sand. Could get behind a field though."

"A golden field of wheat, surrounded by rich green fields. Maybe a few ponds."

"I'd just go for a green field on the edge of a forest."

"Macalania. That's where you need to be."

"Convenient that that is where we already are," Masque comments.

"Well, in a way. We have to go much farther west yet."

Masque hums again, and they're not exactly relaxed now, but they're less tense than they just had been.

Zveran grins, but falls silent as they go deeper.

Eventually, there lies a bright gateway, and a Guado to greet them. "Welcome to Guadosalam! May I ask your business?"

"I am a summoner. This is my guardian," Zveran says. The Guado gasps.

"We are honoured! I assume you will be visiting the Farplane before your journey to the temple?"

Masque is a silent figure at Zveran's shoulder.

"Not us. We would appreciate replenishing of our supplies."

The Guado nods sagely. "After a demonstration of the summoner's abilities, I am sure your request will be no issue."

"Well, then. To the nearest free space." Zveran brushes past the Guado, not sure where he is going, but certainly going with confidence.

Masque trails quietly again, hard to tell with the mask, but they're probably watching everything.

Zveran, once they reached the space, closes his eyes. 

And then...he starts dancing-

Masque watches, silent, and a little entranced.

-Ixion bursts forth in a cloud of electricity, neighing.

Sweat has broken out across Zveran's forehead, and his breathing is heavier.

Masque is watching him carefully, but does not, in the immediate, move forward.

The aeon dances around, neighing happily, before dissipating. 

"Beautiful! That aeon is stunning, please come into the hall!" The Guado leads the way, not looking behind him.

Zveran falls to his knees, panting.

Masque practically materialises at his side, offering a hand.

Zveran can barely focus, until Masque's hand comes into view. 

"Thank you," he says, practically on a breath, using Masque's strength to haul himself up.

"Hm," Masque shifts so they're discreetly supporting Zveran's weight.

Zveran leans heavily on Masque. "I'm sorry...I...I'm not too good at summoning."