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Galaxia trip!
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"I do not mean simply 'No.' The words I speak contain the meaning that I intend. I do not think that you would appreciate the time investment, when much of it is to likely be bypassed, and when I expect that most of the benefits of the exploration are more theoretical besides - development of my practices is something that involves much modelling and theoretical discussion, which I'd think you'd find to be of greater interest. Perhaps it'd even serve as a method for me to train my familiarity as well, and serve as a useful point of comparison to the research material on the knowledge that the library possesses which I've been consuming."

The lights return, sharp and clear and blue, with a slight prickle in the brilliant brightness of the flaring center points. 

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"...I see." 

I hum. 

"I hope you'd be interested in correspondence with Amaya, if she wishes to inquire after you? She's a magesmith herself, and I expect her talents to bge something that will be of great use to a great many people, especially after this trip." 

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"By all means - additional contacts are hardly a burden for me to bear." 

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"Alright." 

I breath out, eyes flitting closed from the glare. 

"Would you like to meet again soon? I have a handful of ideas, to perhaps play with, though I think that simply diving in now would be besides the point."

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"My contact remains in the computer, and you are welcome to reach out anytime."

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"So..." 

"See you, then?"

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"Yes. 'See you.'" 

The lights of their body flare, blurring together into a smudge of white-grey-gold, and then they are gone, the flash of energy concealing exactly how quickly they lfet.

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Alright.

That was... a thing. 

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I laugh a little shyly. 

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It was! 

They're kinda standoffish? Gonna take a while for them to learn how to do this properly, but that's hardly an issue for now! Lotta this is gonna matter way more when we figure out our legend and Maaaagic~!

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Snort.

Quite true, quite true...

Especially given it's not like he's avoiding working on the coming events, I'd say. 

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They'll be there when needed without any further consideration. 

For now... 

Research or some further connections, perhaps?

I quickly inquire to see if there's any pending messages or similar.

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Come.

The day is young, the year is far from done, and you have many things to learn yet, if you are to become a Summer Empress. 

The ship will guide you. 

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I blush faintly. 

Refreshingly direct. 

I quite like it. 

No need to dally, of course. 

I walk out to the hall, and I see another facet of the rivers and lakes. 

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The hall itself seems fairly large, even for the clearly modified dimensions of this ship to ensure that each and every room is wide and sweeping enough to get yourself lost in its context. 

There's perhaps dozens of people milling around here - ranging from a decently wide array of humanoid types to some slighter beings, and a handful of blobs of light and assorted energies, but most notably... 

It's a vast gymnasium - slickly polished wood floors periodically interrupted by royal purple fall mats surrounding and spilling into all sorts of constructions - simple arenas surrounded with runic circles etched neatly, mirroring silver and gold inlays upon the plain grey ceiling or more oddly configured ones with complicated arrays of wires spilling out around the perimeter to forming what I assume is some form of shield grid to more conventional facilities - assemblies of trampolines, frames of metal, hanging cords and some simple bits of raised flooring that seems to form a pisté, where Amaya awaits. 

I stroll over to her, and watch her fuss with a vast contraption of pipes, valves and thick plates of steel mounted aside the stage. 

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"You came swiftly. Good." 

She spins in place, and flicks her eyes down. 

"Your hands?"

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"Promptness is a virtue I personally enjoy exemplifying." 

I drift my open hands together, cupping them to receive whatever she wishes to offer. 

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She presses her hands beneath them - her fingers are ever so slightly warm, beneath the faint chill of the not-quite-fully-flesh fingers, the unyielding callouses upon each one not quite detracting from the smooth slide of her tips along the lines on her palm and the fullness of the flesh of her hand, nearly tangling them with hers in something almost resembling an intimate embrace, before a flow of silvery metal wraps around Jirachi's hands as she pulls back, humming lightly. 

The cool fluid disappears, in a moment. 

"You plan to wield your skills in combat." 

It is not a question. 

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"I do." 

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Her eyes dart to hers, staring. 

"That is not an answer, Blue Heart." 

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"It isn't." 

I pause.

"I plan to fight, yes, because rare is the legend forged entirely outside conflict and combat, and nary an empire has been born that can avoid requiring at least the option of a fight. My skills I shall obtain include things simpler, firmer, and there are many times where an alternative solution is infeasible or impracticable."

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"And you like the idea of it."

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"I've pictured myself as something of a knight, at times. Fighting is an exaltation of the physical, of the engagement in this exact moment, of the rush of the reality of the stakes and importance of the things that I value, and there can be a way of connecting, over such a contest, that I enjoy. I do not regret that part of me." 

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"Wise, if I expect untested." 

She tilts her head up in thought, before returning her gaze to just below her eyes. 

"Your name."

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"Jirachi."

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