Not all tombs are bleak and unremittingly dark. Some, especially the very oldest, have vents to the surface, allowing air to flow freely so that the workers would not suffocate before completing the monument to their lord's glory. One such vent must be overhead now, for a beam of sunlight puddles upon the corridor ahead, motes of dust gently twinkling within.
Occlus strides through with hardly a thought-
The ground rumbles. There's nothing gives her the impression that the tunnel has collapsed -- yet.
She meets its end in broad daylight. The sunlight streaming toward her might briefly blind a normal human.
Please. She is anything but.
She vaults off the path and onto the mountainside, moving for the first location.
She finds it. The paper will probably be adequately secured with pebbles, unless she has something stronger she wants to use.
The papers are put! She'll get to watch the sunset as a reward for how boring it was to fly around putting paper everywhere.
She's seen better. There was that one trinary system in the Mid Rim, what was the name...
In any case. Her task done, she returns to Hohenheim.
"Oh. Faster than I thought you'd be."
He stands up laboriously, then moves to a spot in the floor he must have marked when he was originally constructing the array. He draws an array, stares at it for a minute, erases something, and then places his hands at the edge. The crackle of lightning builds more slowly than usual -- Occlus smells ozone before she sees any light appear. Then, when the tent is suffuse with enough blue light it might as well be daytime outside, everything goes dark.
Larger transformation, longer charging time. The ceiling is still in place, so presumably it hasn't failed totally.
She's not entirely right about that, but Hohenheim doesn't know to correct her.
The trip proceeds as normal. Hohenheim sends Occlus out on errands to help fix broken objects. She gains plenty of experience working with wood and metal.
They arrive in Bharat several weeks early. The man in charge is half-expecting Occlus or Hohenheim to extort them for money, now that he's been paid for the transport of his goods.
Hohenheim has not given any indication that he has realized! Her Force-sense must be far better at determining mental state than alchemy.
"He's wondering if we're going to ask for compensation," she murmurs.
"It would make the trip to Cairo easier ... I suppose it would be fair to ask, considering the work we've done. Don't scare him," he warns.
"I will take no responsibility for his reactions." She goes over to the man.
He's ordering people around the camp. A team of men are packing up the tent. He looks like he's trying to leave as quickly as possible.
He turns around and smiles weakly. "Oh! Yes. Our dear alchemists. Come -- let me set up some chairs and refreshments --" He waves a hand at two men, who begin looking for the stated objects.
"Surely you would prefer to spend the night somewhere comfortable before the next leg of your journey, no?"
"That is unnecessary. You look quite busy as well, we would not wish to keep you. We would simply like discuss some compensation for our efforts on this journey."
His eyebrows disappear into his hat. "Do you mean that you're not going to need to stay the night at all? You're leaving immediately?"
"I suppose," he says slowly, "you'll be needing less compensation, with less opportunity to use it."
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