errenis | for blumenthal

"Hm?" It takes Yussa a moment to realize where Caleb is looking, but he soon realizes and reaches to brush his fingers across the mouth-shaped bruises on his chest. A faint smirk appears and he lifts his gaze to meet Caleb's. "You'd have a headache if I had any objections."

Yussa can't recall now if he's ever encouraged Caleb to that end, but perhaps now that it's happened, he'll have to make his desire for it more apparent the next time the mood strikes.

He reaches for his clothes so that he can dress again, limbs still heavy and a bit stiff from falling asleep as they did.

Caleb noticeably relaxes. "I thought so," he says, relieved. Relieved also that he can appreciate his work without guilt, because there is no doubt that he does appreciate it. Thinking of Yussa undressing and seeing bruises he'd left over his breasts for days--weeks, even--before they fade is deeply appealing.

Presuming, of course, that he doesn't heal them somehow. But Caleb will retain his private fantasy, at least.

As Yussa begins to redress, Caleb begins to collect his own clothing, still feeling a bit like his head is stuffed with cotton.

"Is this something you have encountered here before? Whatever...happened with me yesterday?" he asks. Tired of his hair flopping into his face, he simply pulls it back without bothering to so much as attempt combing it neatly.

"Yes," he answers. "Also with someone who was not an elf, as it turns out."

Yussa gives a dry smile and slides his book harness back on. He has fond memories - and a few terrifying ones - of exploring the Feywild. He rolls his shoulders and looks at Caleb again.

"There are things here that play tricks on mind and body and some are more susceptible than others. You shook that off rather well, I think, all told." Perhaps it took several hours, but Caleb sees relatively clear-headed now. Enough that they might be able to find their way back out.

With someone who was not an elf. Those without fey ancestry are more susceptible, then. That makes sense. Yussa had implied that he'd fucked in worse places. Still, Caleb finds himself having to fight down a surge of jealousy (entirely irrational, he knows) over Yussa's past companion, whomever they might have been.

"I still feel a little out of it," he confesses. "The, ah, sex part has mostly faded I think," for now, anyway. "But there is something...missing. I do not remember how we got here, or our specific purpose, beyond exploration and research."

It's disconcerting not to remember, but oddly not as much as it probably should be. He hasn't shaken it off nearly as well as Yussa thinks he has.

"Mostly?" he echoes, still sounding warmly amused as Caleb reports his current state. "That doesn't sound strange - the Feywild has a way of confusing purpose."

Even as he says it, it still takes Yussa a moment to remember the precise answer to the unasked question.

"We are here by way of the Halls of Halas," he reminds, feeling confident in his answer once he's able to grasp it again. "We came through the gallery."

And now they need to find their way back out.

Caleb's shoulders lift in a helpless shrug, and he feels his face heating just enough to be noticeable. "It is difficult to say whether the Feywild's nature is making my usual attraction to you more apparent, or if there are lingering effects from what I experienced yesterday. Either way, it is much more manageable."

Either way, Yussa is still hot. That isn't going to magically stop being true. He should probably stop watching him dress and get dressed himself.

A light does turn on in the fog of his brain when Yussa tells him they're here via the Folding Halls. He still might not recall the journey exactly, but there is much more logic in the two of them exploring a chamber in the Happy Fun Ball than making an excursion to the true Feywild alone.

"Right," he murmurs, stepping into and pulling up his trousers as he thinks. "The Folding Halls makes sense. The gallery...that is fuzzy, but perhaps the memories will return now that I have a better grasp on our situation."

Yussa doesn't respond other than to give Caleb a lingering look, as if that assertion remains to be seen.

"I hope they do, as your memory and adept puzzle-solving will certainly be useful in getting us back." He isn't worried, per se. There has to be a relatively straightforward way out, even if it is difficult to find. Something that would make sense to Halas, something that would work each time. There has been consistency in design where that is concerned and Yussa is hoping that remains the case.

While Caleb finishes dressing, Yussa wanders to the edge of the stream so that he can splash water on his face and run damp fingers through his hair. He tries not to let his mind drift, knowing well that the Feywild will only encourage it to do so.

"I suggest we try to go back the way we came."

The only benefit here is they didn't actually make it very far before Caleb was overcome.

After he's dressed, Caleb makes at least an attempt at detangling his hair before giving up and using prestidigitation, which he really should have just done in the first place. Honestly, it must look better now than it has in days. Looking to Yussa as he pulls it back again, he nods.

"I should be able to accurately retrace our steps from yesterday, at least." So he collects the rest of his things, folding blankets and rolling up his bedroll and stuffing each back into his bag before they set off, following the stream back. At least they have that as a marker to show them where to go.

And Caleb feels...fine, really. Mostly. His memories even begin returning, and he's able to guide them away from the stream back to the clearing in which they'd originally arrived. If they can get out of here, he'll be better. He won't need to waylay this whole trip by being stupid and horny. Stupidly horny. Maybe he can stop feeling quite so personally victimized by the way Yussa's ass looks in this outfit.

But in the clearing, there is no portal to be found. Caleb's brow furrows. Has he misremembered? "This was the spot, wasn't it?" he asks.

Yussa frowns as he examines the clearing they first arrived in. He remembers what the gate looked like and he scans the area for... anything familiar. He crosses his arms and moves in a slow circle through the space. And then he drops his arms, hands slightly out to each side like he is feeling for something. He hesitates to cast Detect Magic given the nature of the Feywild, but it might be necessary if they want to have a place to even start.

He mutters a few soft curses in Elvish, and Halas's name features prominently. Yussa looks at Caleb, golden eyes sharp and annoyed, much as they'd been when he cast Dispel Magic on the gateway that eventually led them to the path across the Astral Sea. He really dislikes the architect's ridiculous way of hiding things.

"Is it worth casting Detect Magic?" he asks, inviting Caleb's experience.

Yussa is very attractive when he's annoyed. Those sharp golden eyes directed at him cut deep, and Caleb struggles for a moment with the question the other wizard asks him.

"Ah...probably? At least to eliminate the possibility that it has simply gone invisible. Detect Magic is a basic enough spell that the effect will hopefully not be too distorted."

He really needs to stop oogling Yussa and start trying to solve problems. Stay on task, Widogast. Casting the spell himself is the least he can do. Even distracted as he is, the verbal and somatic components are second-nature, and he feels the familiar almost sixth-sense awareness that means the spell has worked. But looking around is dizzying.

"Scheisse. I should have known that a lot of things here would register as magical," he says, closing his eyes for a moment to reorient himself. He's going to give himself a headache if he keeps the spell up for its full ten minute duration, he can already tell. But he forces himself to look again for any evidence of the door they'd arrived through. He paces around the clearing following a similar path to Yussa, becoming increasingly frustrated and confused when he finds nothing of the sort. "There aren't any arcane signatures that would be consistent with a portal, or a spell concealing one," he reports. "Either we have gotten turned around and wound up in an identical but different clearing, or the pathways in and out of this chamber must rotate."

Yussa watches Caleb, and he can imagine the impact that casting that particular spell is having on the human wizard.

"Arcane energy," he reminds the young man as he moves around the clearing. Yussa scowls when Caleb confirms that he can't see anything that would indicate the portal they arrived through. He rubs a hand over his cheek, then sighs.

"All right. This is not a full entry into the Feywild, that would be too unpredictable. It has boundaries, even if they are not immediately obvious."

That being said, he is not entirely sure how to proceed from here. He looks at nothing in particular as he talks through his thinking.

"There has to be an evident way, something that isn't impossible to find - the Feywild, even a pocket of it, is mercurial. Halas has to have created something that will not move or change in this place. Something he could return to to leave again."

As soon as they've confirmed that their exit isn't this way, Caleb releases Detect Magic and rubs his eyes with thumb and forefinger, still seeing magically glowing imprints of the space around him on the backs of his eyelids.

"If Halas used this chamber for experimenting with the Feywild's unique magical distortion, then he should have created a location for conducting that research here," he reasons aloud. "I would guess that such a structure would be central to this pocket. The spoke of the wheel, so to speak, with everything else turning around it." Caleb remembers the relief on the ceiling in the Diamond Entrance, the depiction of gears. He remembers the Tower Machine, the spoke of this entire extradimensional plane, to which the demiplanes of each room are all tethered. The structure makes sense. "He loves patterns, even if they were only meant to be apparent to him."

And Halas certainly wasn't going to go wandering aimlessly around this space when he was here for a purpose. There must be a simpler way to navigate it--shortcuts, or at least an understanding of where and how the exits move.

"I think it is likely a research station would hold evidence, at the very least, as to how to get in and out quickly."

Yussa considers that, mind turning over the possibilities and he nods. Caleb is right - there is some rhyme or reason to this, even if it is not immediately obvious. Gods, every inch of this place they explore gives him more cause to dislike Halas Lutagran. It also gives him more cause to admire him, which is worse.

"Then we start moving inward," he says after a moment, considering their options. "... And I think we ought follow the stream. The breeze has no direction, but that does."

It's as good a place to start as any, isn't it? And it provides a steady landmark to follow inward - it's path seems relatively straight, all told.

Caleb smiles. Despite hitting a roadblock here, it's exciting to hear Yussa voice the same thing he's been thinking. He's always loved problem solving with another wizard. The energy of collaboration with a like mind--there really isn't anything like it.

"I was about to suggest the same," he agrees. The stream is the only feature they've encountered here with a real direction, so it makes sense. "Shall we?"

One thing he takes note of as they retrace their steps again is that the sky hasn't changed at all. This space is seemingly caught in permanent dusk, a little orange lingering in the mostly dark sky. But the dancing lights illuminate things well enough that he doesn't need to cast his own, and they also happen to make Yussa look like a fucking vision.

He knows there are more important things to think about--like getting out of this corner of this extraplanar space--but it's impossible not to admire the other wizard as they trudge along together, Yussa still in heels.

"Did you come along with a whole group the last time you were here?" he asks eventually, curious. "The Feywild, I mean."

Despite wearing heels, Yussa doesn't lose his footing as they travel along the stream.

"Hm? No. The very last time I was only with one other person," he answers. "But the first time was with a group, and several subsequent visits were."

It's safer, certainly, to travel this particular plane with someone else. It's far too easy to drift off otherwise, even for those with fey ancestry. Yussa picks his way down a rocky slope; alongside them, the stream tumbles in a playful waterfall.

"And, since you and your compatriots made off with my scroll to the Fire Plane, you already know of them."

He's still just a bit miffed about that particular theft. He understands the Nein were under duress and would have asked had they the chance. Wensforth spoke on their behalf when Yussa noticed it was gone. And, given that Caleb saved his life and his sanity, he has not actually demanded any kind of redress. It can ultimately be replaced, but his odd, trying, and ultimately brave friends cannot.

Caleb winces. "Ah." That really hadn't been their finest hour--him especially. "I apologize again for that." They're long past it by now, but he feels the compulsive need to say he's sorry every time it comes up. It was his past catching up to him that caused Yussa to lose a precious artifact. Even if the favor was more than repaid by freeing him from Cognouza, Caleb still feels guilty. So much concerning Ikithon and the many ways he'd impacted and hurt those he cares about in order to get to him brings a resurgence of that emotion, even if he knows intellectually that Ikithon himself is the one to blame.

But if the scroll is related to Yussa's previous companion, then it could only be Planerider Ryn--a figure Caleb knows little about beyond reading their research log in the plane of fire. It makes sense for Yussa to have traversed the planes with someone by that unusual title, and the gift of the scroll, an elaborate and priceless magical item, implies a definite closeness.

It's uncharitable, but Caleb feels more than a little sour toward this mysterious figure, despite their indirect role in saving the Nein through their gift to Yussa. But he doesn't like feeling jealous, so he really doesn't know why he continues to press on this bruise. Normally he would not consider himself prone to this sort of envy at all.

"I do not mean to pry. I am just curious about your past travels. You've only spoken of them a little."

Yussa looks back at Caleb again. It isn't the apology that strikes him, but something else in his tone. He studies the younger man for a moment before he continues. No way to investigate beyond observation, after all.

"Naturally," he says lightly. Of course Caleb would be curious - he's an inquisitive person, and it is a trait that Yussa both admires and finds endearing.

"Ryn and I travelled frequently together for a while. I was interested in their experiments and exploration. They study arcane ley lines and planar travel. The space you found in the Fire Plane is one of many."

Yussa allows a fondness in his voice as he speaks. It is real, after all, though he and Ryn have not been traveling companions in some time.

Trying not to look at Yussa proves entirely futile. He doesn't know why seeing and hearing affection from him for this person bothers him. It isn't that he begrudges Yussa his past lovers. Of course such an impressive man would have more than a few. So what is it?

"I see," he says. "From what I read of the log they left in the Fire Plane, their work is quite specialized. There is probably no one who understands the relationship between the other planes and our own better." His tone is observational, perhaps neutral enough to seem forced. "Why not ask them to accompany you here? An extraplanar space with pocket dimensions directly linked to several other planes seems like it would be of interest to them, and further research into the structure of the Folding Halls could likely benefit from their expertise."

All of this is true. And Caleb understands as he speaks where his jealousy stems from. He wants Yussa--with some exclusivity, if he's being honest, though he knows that isn't a demand he can make. And he wants Yussa to want him. But he worries that he doesn't measure up to this Ryn, or anyone else he has been close with before, in Yussa's esteem. He can't help wondering just how close they were (or still are), if it was friendship or romance, if Yussa was fonder of them. If he wouldn't rather be here now with them than with him. There is no doubt that Yussa must have a history with some truly accomplished people--members of the Pansophical, other influential figures well-known in wider circles. What is he doing with a scruffy human adventurer turned schoolteacher? Especially one with a murderous past that has already put him in danger at least once?

That Caleb is feeling particularly inept today doesn't help his frustration. His mind isn't as sharp as it should be, and he'd wasted so much of their time yesterday because he couldn't resist the influence of...whatever it was. Whatever it is, because he's aware that it is still affecting him, and isn't certain how much longer he'll be able to go without admitting it.

It's the measured, deliberate neutrality that has Yussa paying attention. He lets Caleb speak, hearing what he does not say out loud. He lets it go on for a few more yards before he stops and turns to face his companion. Even in heels, Yussa is shorter than Caleb and so he has to look up at him. Elegant fingers curl in one of the straps of Caleb's book harness.

"Because I wanted you to accompany me here," he answers, firm and decisive. "Ryn is a brilliant mind and a keen explorer, but you are the one who brought this sphere to me and you are the one who explored its halls first. You have expertise that Ryn, clever as they are, does not."

Yussa reaches up with his other hand to hold Caleb's chin, ensuring that their eyes meet.

"Because this place is ours. And perhaps I am an old fool, but there are simply some things I prefer to keep separate." Exclusive. Perhaps someday he will invite Ryn here to help with particularly stubborn or annoying gateways and paths, but he has not yet and he does not intend to do so in the near future. He invited Caleb Widogast to study it with him, and Caleb Widogast alone. "Is that a satisfactory answer or shall I go on?"

When Yussa rounds on him, Caleb isn't expecting his intensity. The way he answers implies he understands the true motivation behind his question, which is more than a little embarrassing. But Caleb is fixed in place by the graceful hand curled around the strap of his harness and the one taking hold of his chin, drawn into the bright gold of Yussa's eyes as he looks down at him. Clearly the older man is trying to impress upon him how certain he is of his choice to explore and study this place alongside him and no other. Perhaps Caleb shouldn't read any more into it than that, but it almost seems as though he's meant to.

The confirmation that this place is theirs is reassuring, though. He has as much ownership and responsibility as Yussa does. He swallows, trying to bring some moisture back to his suddenly dry mouth.

"No, Master Errenis," he says, hushed and humbled. His face has heated with embarrassment and a little arousal, because he can't help finding this firm, emphatic Yussa incredibly attractive. "That answer is satisfactory."

Though he would like to avert his gaze elsewhere, Yussa's hand on his chin continues to ensure he doesn't. "I am always grateful for the interest you have taken in me. I value the work we do in studying this place together highly. And I am...relieved to hear that you do not have plans to bring others into the arrangement."

Yussa's thumb strokes over Caleb's chin and the archmage leans up on the balls of his feet to give the other man a kiss.

"Good," he murmurs. His hand moves to gently run over Caleb's cheek. Yussa's golden eyes are bright with amusement when he adds, "Oremid Hass can tell you that I dislike repeating myself."

He gives Caleb's cheek a firmer pat before he pulls away. Careful with his footing, he continues ahead along the stream's bank.

"And should I wish to bring anyone else here, I would not be so flippant as to do so without your knowledge or input." Just as Yussa would expect the same from Caleb, should he have retained possession of the Heirloom Sphere and invited him to study it.

That kiss, easy as it is, springs the first leak in the dam that Caleb has constructed today in an attempt to keep the more carnal of his distracting urges from overwhelming him. He sways just a little when Yussa pulls away, raising his own hand to brush over his cheek where Yussa's had been a moment ago.

"Of course. I...I trust that you would consult me, and respect my wishes if I declined."

He follows on autopilot, noting that they've progressed further now than they have been yet. It's difficult to say just how much further they will need to go. Surely this chamber can't be any larger than the gardens? He hopes that whatever else they find in this research station he is simply assuming is there, there is somewhere comfortable to lay down. Though he'd wanted to believe he really could manage it today, he doubts he'll make it out of here without needing to accost his companion for sex again.

Eventually the scenery begins to change, little by little. The trees start growing taller and wider, the canopy further overhead, but denser. The flora seems even more outlandish, huge and wildly colored and patterned, the humid air thick and sweet with their scent, and the warm, serenely drifting lights grow in number. Caleb is dizzy and hot, and he more than recognizes the symptoms from yesterday, put pushes on through them with determination for at least a little longer.

The fact that he doesn't quite know how many minutes pass before the find the stairs is a testament to how quickly things have escalated for him. But this could be exactly what they are looking for; a stairway spirals up the massive trunk of the largest tree they've yet seen, leading up into the branches, where a small structure is nestled--a treehouse, which from the ground looks quaintly small, but as it is a fair distance up, is likely larger than it seems.

"That, ah...seems like the way to go," Caleb says, adjusting his hair so that it isn't all plastered to his neck. What he wants is to touch Yussa, but he makes himself roll up his sleeves instead, as if in preparation for climbing. There are spells that would get them up there easily, of course, but Yussa is the expert here on what would be safe to cast and what wouldn't.

While the flora gets more outlandish, Yussa is more interested in the way the canopy is arching over them. And then there's a stairway wrapping around a massive tree trunk.

"Well, at least it doesn't involve scrambling over rocks," he says blithely as they reach the base of the tree. Rather than casting, Yussa starts up the stairs by foot. While he thinks relatively simple spells might not go awry, he would also rather not tempt fate this close to something Halas put here.

It's a slightly longer walk than anticipated, but they get an interesting view on the way, at least. As they near the top of the stairs, Yussa looks back at Caleb.

"Still all right?"

The human wizard looks flushed and warm, and it's possibly just the atmosphere, but it's worth checking before they go further.

He could just be winded from climbing all of those stairs, but he isn't. Or at least not only from that. It was inevitable that Yussa would notice, especially as it's only gotten worse as they drew closer to this area.

"I have been better," he admits. Let his companion take from that what he will. "But let's get to the top and see what we find."

His eyes are dark and his voice and smile are strained. Just about the only thing keeping him from pressing Yussa against the trunk of the tree right now is the height they're at. Gods, he wants--anything. Yussa's body against his, the way it had been again and again yesterday, shaking with how good Caleb made him feel. The taste of him on his tongue, the twist of his hands in his hair, the hot, velvety friction of his ass tight around his cock. He could lose himself in this man for hours, days--

"Ja," he gasps, "let's keep going. Now."

Yussa nods and continues onto the platform. The treehouse is larger than it looked from the ground and he quickly casts Detect Magic to ensure there isn't anything immediately concerning about the door. He also takes a moment to physically check for any traps.

There's nothing to make him hesitate further, so he opens the door and slips inside. His hands remain folded behind him. The interior is a workroom: a heavy table sits in the center with bookcases and cabinets around it. It looks like there may be notebooks, as there were in the study. Yussa has every intention of cleaning this place out, once he's sure what he can take without setting off some kind of trap or any other mishap. It took quite some time in the study to sort that out.

"Well, at least we have this."

Surely they can find a way out from here... once they've looked around some. Yussa wanders over to one of the bookcases - still not touching or pulling anything off the shelves - to see what titles he can discern, if any.

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