Ever since he left the bustling streets of Luca behind, the hairs on the back of Zveran’s neck had been standing. He reshoulders his pack, adjusting to make it more comfortable, as well giving him the chance to peek behind him.
He couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean no one was there, and if he let them get the better of him, if they caught him by surprise, well. The thieves who trained him would be very disappointed.
He wraps himself around them, fingers digging into their shoulders.
"I'm scared," he says, finally.
-They hesitate before hugging back. "Don't be. You have every right to be here."
"They killed my mother, Masque. They killed my Bambi," Zveran says, in the manner of coughing something toxic out.
Zveran laughs hollowly. "Maybe not with a spell, or a sword."
He pulls back, but drops his head on their shoulder, just for a moment, before straightening.
Masque is waiting for him to be ready, and doesn't waste words on platitudes that they doubt Zveran will find reassuring.
"Right. Temple is the largest building in the city. Unmissable. Let's go."
Zveran sets out, calling back to Aten. "Stay close!"
Zveran is stopped at the first gate. He sighs.
“Al Bhed aren’t welcome here,” the man hisses.
Zveran glares up at him. “I’m a summoner.”
"Right, you're a summoner and I'm a Maester," the man snarls.
Zveran raises one eyebrow, and then raises his arms.
Zveran shoots them a grin, before turning back to the guard. "I assume that is proof enough?"
The guard grumbles, but allows them to pass.
Zveran does hear him spit as they go, but doesn't do anything more than bristle.
"Bracing. All right, you," he says to Valefor, soaring above. "Come back now."
Valefor disappears in a flurry of pyreflies, and Zveran noticeably slumps.
Zveran wraps an arm around their shoulders, partly because any excuse to get close to them, but mostly because he was worried that his knees would forget to be knees.
"There," he said, pointing. The building was huge, ornate, and ridiculous. "I have no idea what part of it houses the fayth."
Masque wraps their arm around his waist. They stare at the building, looking more than a little intimidated by it.
Zveran feels much the same way.
"Probably going to get the same treatment here as I did at the gates. You ready?"
Once they get close enough, it's clear the main street is more like a red carpet right up to the temple's door. Zveran scoffs at the ridiculous ornateness of the whole set up.
He only lets Masque go once they're about to head into the temple. Two priests, dressed as warriors, stand guard at the doors. They glare down at Zveran.
Zveran, however, doesn't care about that. His heart goes cold at the sight of Al Bhed weapons in their hands. Machina.
"That's not an elemental," one of the guards says, raising his gun to point at Aten.
"Never you fucking mind what he is," Zveran growls. His fear at them killing him is far outweighed by his fury. "Where did you get Al Bhed weapons?"
"You should move on, blasphemer," the other guard snarls back at him.
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