Lingering Threats [Yshvold]

[Aurin]

"I don't want you going down below," he said. "Not until we know more about what's going on with the key and the fucking bullshit brewing down there. If there's something down there that we have a chance of taking out, I won't make you sit out the fight, but I don't want you putting yourself at risk when the possible benefits are slim to none." He paused; that had come out a bit more forceful than he intended. But he was taking the kid under his wing, at least if the kid decided to play nice and stick around. Aurin could be a bit overprotective, though he let known quantities like Elwes and Ashoka make their own assessments before calling him in for backup.

"I mean, you won't be my prisoner and I can't keep an eye on you every moment, but I would rather you make more calculated risks. We can figure out where you can go that I can't go, and you can bring me intel from there. Like, I don't know, what other Lysanrin are doing..." He shrugged. "Not that I'm trying to give them any trouble. The world seems to do that on its own without any help from me. But people will say things around a kid they won't say around a man grown. We'll figure out how to use your situation for the best payout for both of us, all right?"

As for the rest.

"Noted. I'll bank my free question for a later date." He smirked, or maybe that was just his face.

"Elwes and I will train you up if you stick around. You're slippery. You're a survivor. We can help you get better at it." So that condition of the kid's was easily met.

"I just don't know enough about magic to ever be entirely comfortable with it. The more I learn, the less comfortable I am with it, and I don't know how it works for Lysanrin with the... siphoning... But you can tell me whatever you're comfortable telling me. It'll help me help you more than anything else."

Then he wove up a bit of a mask for himself as well, Aurin's face fading into the one that Yshvold had seen first. And then it extended out over Yshvold to make him seem taller, bigger, and not Lysanrin. Two men would attract less notice at this hour than a man and a boy, and he could adjust it when they crossed out of the Low-City and into nicer areas, as well.

"I'll let you eat this aether when I'm done with it," he promised, and then led the way out of the alley.

[Yshvold]

When things seem too good to be true, it usually is. Aurin was being suspiciously helpful, even if he was upfront about his intentions and the rewards of doing work with him. Red flags and green lights both going up in rapid intervals as he listened to the deal, and truth be told Yshvold couldn't come to a final conclusion on what to do. Aurin had answers for every demand he had, and was quick to accept what the boy wanted. Very suspicious.

However he did offer a bed and that was enough for him for now, he'll just have to keep his eye on the two while they work together. He saw them both in action and knew their talents were the real deal, to be trained by someone with skills related to him would be a great boon to him. In time he will be able to stand on his own feet, and even flourish under any kind of pressure the world could throw at him.

"Ok, um... thank you?" Yshvold's only real choice was to accept, even if he was confused on how positive the whole deal had been.

He didn't even notice when Aurin put on his own disguise and started to weave something over Yshvold himself. A sharp inhale as Aether threads entwined around him and formed some new shape to disguise his own body from the people around him. He couldn't tell what the man turned him into but he knew he was not himself, he only hoped the disguise would hold up with the difference in size.

"What? This is disgusting, is this what they call hazing?" Yshvold shakes his hand as Aurins threads attach to his body to solidify the image, and the older person that would be Yshvold flailed its hands just like the child. He would prefer siphoning away something that was meant to hurt him, at least he wouldn't have to let it attach itself to him for so long.

For all his bitching and whining, Yshvold still followed behind Aurin as he led to onward. Assumedly to a new home.

[Aurin]

"Do all Lysanrin bitch this much," he asked, damping his voice with his masquerade trick so only Yshvold could hear it, "or is this just the Yshvold special?"

But as much as Yshvold complained, he followed. And as much as Aurin complained, he led. They were quiet for most of the trip. His illusions changed when they passed through shadows, altering to fit their environs so nobody would question them. When they got to the alley, they disappeared entirely and if anyone was watching, they wouldn't even see or hear the door open, close, and shut.

The red-roofed cottage was simple, though he had made some improvements. There was running water now, so the kitchen was much improved, though he still rarely cooked. There were proper facilities, including a bath big enough for three—never knew when some of the ladies from the Velvet Cabaret were going to be especially dirty and need a good cleaning—and it was surely big enough for one scrawny Lysanrin kid.

There was also a bed. It wasn't huge, but it was certainly better than a garbage pile. He pulled out towels and some old clothes that were clean and Yshvold could sleep in, and then he stripped the bed to put fresh linens on it. Otherwise, the kid would probably complain that it stunk of human or some other clever remark.

"Eat what you want in the kitchen," he said. "Try not to make messes. I don't have a maid. You should take a bath first, though. I'll cut some things down and re-hem them so they'll fit you properly. Get you some new clothes later if you stick around." He had picked up a few bachelor skills over the years, as well as helping when the costumers next door got overwhelmed. He found the spare key and flicked it in a glittering arc toward the horned wonder. "I'm going to take a walk. Back in about an hour with hot food. The bathroom door locks so you don't have to worry about perverts. Ah... any preferences for food? Oh, and are you going to eat this?"

He could see the aether he was working thanks to his semblance trick, but he didn't see it the way Lysanrin apparently saw it.

[Yshvold]

If someone told him that he would have a bath, hot food, and a comfortable bed to sleep in tonight, Yshvold would have suspected them of trying to trick him into letting down his guard. Once he passed the door's threshold and taken in the sights his stomach woke up and made itself known.

Maybe his bad attitude is due to not having a real meal for a couple days, or the lack of restful sleep. As he lets his guard down for a moment a realization comes to him, the cracks in his mental walls needed mending.

No words came to mind as he watched Aurin pulled out more items to care for the boy, not even Lady Petra did this much, what was his angle?

His reasoning on the situation continues to be turned on its head with helped being offered with apparent conditions. He wont have much freedom to act on his own for a while, but he will have food. Reality finally came down on him and the fatigue of the many nights on the town hit him all at once.

His legs gave out on him and he took off his mask, tired eyes sunken in and he could smell himself unimpeded by the odors of the outside world. A bath sounds like a gift from the divine, perhaps karma finally decided to smile on him after all this time.

All that was left was to decide what to do with the aether Aurin gave him. He tired of it touching him and so he decided to get rid of it.

Yshvold reached out and moved his arms around to catch the threads around his forearms. As he sucked in the aetheric threads they unraveled around him, dispelling any illusion on him from behind him first. Sparks lit up on his horns and his skin looked as though it was starting to split, with the glow of blue cracking around his face. It wasn't enough to fill his reserves and left him with an aching hunger, even greater than any he felt before.

"I think I will enjoy a bath, and any food you want to bring." It's all he can think to say as he looks at the blue cracks on his arms, unaware it is all around his body. "Also I think I need to sleep, I am seeing things."

[Aurin]

Aurin watched all this through one trick, which gave him a better idea of what Yshvold was doing, though not exactly. He wasn't great with the trick, and besides, he had to understand what he was sensing, not just sense it.

"Huh."

What he saw in the aftermath with his own eyes was also interesting.

"Grab a snack from the kitchen before you drown yourself. Best whet your appetite so you don't gorge and vomit when I bring dinner."

The only real décor on the walls were his weapons where they were mounted. Some Yshvold might recognize from their battles below. Others were on his person at the moment.

"Don't drown, all right? I don't want to have to break down the door to squeeze water out of your lungs so you can call me a pervert again." He waved him toward the kitchen, which wasn't separated from the main room as the bathroom was. "Back in an hour."

And just like that, he was outside, the key turning in the lock. The spare was still there in Yshvold's hand, but for the moment, he was the king of Aurin's little kingdom.

"The fuck am I thinking?" he muttered to himself as he trudged off to consider the ramifications of taking the scamp in, and to score enough food to sate him. Aurin knew better than to think small people couldn't consume huge amounts of food. When he was that small, he could eat more than he could eat now. It just all went to growth and that crazy youthful energy.

[Yshvold]

Aurin has gone and Yshvold had the run of the house, for a time. No one to spy on him, or otherwise interrupt anything he might want to do, and much more spacious than a cupboard in a one room apartment above a bakery.

First things first, the food Aurin talked about. He wasn't lying when he said that Yshvold should eat something before really getting into dinner, his stomach demanded tribute now until the main course showed up, and his mind agreed. Digging through the cupboard afforded an apple and some sort of sugary snack, both consumed with ferocious vigor, and much more than Yshvold is used to seeing in one place. It was practically a feast to the eyes, and soon to be his stomach.

While he gave his body something to work with the unending hunger cursed to him by a half empty tank of aether frustrated him into action. He needed to continue to practice control over what he could conjure and how much he could do at once, but he also needed a bath.

He will have a bath, but first he must earn it. Yshvold opened the door to the bath and stepped away to the other side of the adjacent room. Taking a deep breath and began picturing how he will get from one end of the room to the other, without damaging anything around him or causing a ruckus.

Floating is an option, but he cannot fly, so how would he do that. A platform but too big and he will exhaust his reserves quickly, so two smaller projections will have to do. Two chunks of blue crystal projected themselves under Yshvold's feet and picked him up, causing him to lose balance immediately and onto the ground. The two new constructs fell apart as his concentration broke but it was a good start.

Again Yshvold tried the same trick, but he thought of how to anchor himself to the platforms without falling like before. As the chunks of crystal formed they had dual extensions of crystal chains wrap around his legs. Balance was still an issue but he could at least remain attached to his creations as he slowly floats towards the bathroom door, with the constant threat of overbalancing himself again and falling face first while the constructs continued to pull him towards his destination.

Nothing would be more humiliating than having someone walk in on him unconscious and being dangled by his own powers as they repeatedly bumped him into a bathroom wall. This thought motivated the boy to retain his concentration and slow speed, it was like learning how to walk for the first time.

As he used more aether the blue fissures on his skin dimmed but he had enough to get inside the bathroom without falling again, now he must do that many more times to truly master that kind of control. A small success compared to finally obtaining all that he sees before him.

Even while laying in the bath, and soaking his sorrows away, he trained. Floating small crystal orbs around above him in an orbit mesmerized him and the tension he built up these past years slowly melted away as the dirt and garbage that covered him washed away into the tub.

He wondered if he could have had this sooner, if he had put his pride away for one moment and simply asked for help, that someone would hold out their hand and guide him to something better than mindless killing and thievery. He might even have fewer enemies if that was the case.

Thoughts of someone he lost long ago clouded his mind as the crystals constructs dissipated and a new, bigger, image formed in front of him. The last of his aether took on a smoky form this time, in the image of a ghostly girl from his past. Her body shrouded in a long robe but her face was clear as day. If he was brave enough back then, he could have asked someone for help for the both of them. She would have hated him, but she might still be alive.

As the last of the aether was spent so too was her image. Yshvold thought he should cry, his body told him to cry, but nothing came out. The tired, sullen, eyes simply stared into space as the last of the smoke dispersed and left him alone.

Yshvold silently cursed himself. He had let himself forget his rage and hate because someone was kind to him. He allowed himself to be taken into the service of another because of a simple kindness. Hypocrite that he is, he even forgot how much he loved the girl and showed that affection to another. He is a bastard.

It was time for the boy to finish cleaning himself. Grime from his bout with homelessness coated the tub but he couldn't care less right now, all thoughts now lied upon his own self depreciation. He wanted to eat and sleep, and take this rage out on the first person he could find that would wrong him in any way.

Aurin is a good person, Elwes is a good person, he couldn't justify taking his emotions out on them. Once he settles in and is given work, he will use this new found fire in his soul to lash out against someone dumb enough to stand between him and what his employer wants.

For now he waits. He knows not how long he had been in the bathroom but for now he can sit, curled up in a ball on the bed, and wait for Aurin to return. He's waited for longer periods of time before, an hour wouldn't be that long in comparison.

[Aurin]

It felt strange to knock on his own door, but he did for the kid's comfort. He tried to knock gently and then wondered what the hell was wrong with him, muttering to himself as he unlocked the door, and immediately locked it behind him. The kid was on the bed, looking even scrawnier for the overlarge clothes, but at least they, and he, were clean.

"Hey."

Two arms full of packages was certainly more than he had promised to bring, but he started setting things out and he was obviously going to put up some provisions for the—presumably—growing youth. The seasons were changing and availability was shifting, but he seemed to have a fair variety of fruits and vegetables, which went into a basket, and a little icebox for the more delicate things. Then, the hot foods: meat pies, stew, fresh bread rolls that were supposed to have butter baked into them. There was even a slice of chocolate cake because kids liked chocolate, or so he assumed.

He laid out the hot foods on the table, kicking the chair gently out for Yshvold to sit, but if the kid didn't want to approach while he was moving around, he would just pick up the pace and put things in their place, bringing out a clean fork, spoon, and knife, and oh—they had packed paper napkins. That was easy; they could just be tossed into the hearth afterward. No mess.

Most of it was for Yshvold; he snatched up one of the meat pies and grabbed himself a wooden spoon and leaned up against the wall to sup himself. Yshvold could have the table to himself. It wasn't like they were a happy family sitting down to a meal to talk about how their day had gone or anything like that. He noted the veins in his arms were no longer glowing, but didn't know if that meant the aether had been digested or used. He didn't ask; he could figure it out later.

"Eat." It was an invitation, but Aurin wasn't always good at being gracious.

[Yshvold]

While his appetite had been soured by a negative attitude, Yshvold's stomach told him to move. He would have rather not eat and sulk for a time but the food did smell delicious.

He remained still and only followed Aurin with his eyes as he put the table together. Every plate of food looked more appetizing than the last, it was too tempting for him to remain defiant. If he learned anything about his time studying on how to live with normal people, it was not to be rude. This time, however, he couldn't find the motivation in him to act polite for the sake of it.

"Ok." Yshvold quietly said as he slid off the bed and took his seat, with Aurin away from him. That part was getting tiresome to him, he was not so fragile that other's needed to step on eggshells around him.

"I don't understand why you are still avoiding me, I don't think you're going to attack me." The excitement and energy he displayed before Aurin left seemed to just vanish as he came back. Yshvold's thousand yard stare into a meat pie before grabbing it and taking small bites look as though he was a being possessed by some unnaturally slow spirit.

He ate his meal in silence after that and never once looked over to his benefactor. So much was left on his mind on what he should do next, and he felt as though he had little time to prepare. There was always some sort of looming catastrophe around the corner, waiting to ruin everything he built up for himself. He got excited over the idea that he would be trained by skilled mentors that he forgot the one thing that was always true in his life, no good things last forever.

[Aurin]

"Yeah, you also called me a pervert, though," he pointed out, still leaning against the wall with his meat pie. He jerked his chin toward the door. "I used to manage the Velvet Cabaret around the corner. That's a word we take seriously. And I lived on the streets on again off again when I was your age, so I know they exist. Whatever. I'll hang out until I'm done eating, see if you have any questions or concerns, and then I'll go crash somewhere else. Come back tomorrow and we can train if that's what you want, talk about setting up an arrangement that benefits us both where you have a beat to cover and you get paid enough to keep yourself out of squalor."

He had never had horns and the world's hatred to deal with, so he wasn't trying to compare who had it worse or anything, but he knew about empty bellies, cold nights, and old perverts. His parents hadn't been much in the way of parenting, preferring the sink or swim philosophy when it came to him. There were times he still wondered why they hadn't just tossed him squalling into the river when he was just a mouth to feed that shat his diapers, but here he was—mystery of mysteries.

"I wouldn't trust a hand out then nor a hand out now, so just consider it an investment in the future. I'm not saying we can't be friends in the future, but we don't have to be to work together, you understand. So I'm just going to afford you the luxury of having a choice in the matter. Sound good to you?"

[Yshvold]

"Oh..." Yshvold knew he might be in the wrong about something again, perhaps he was too hasty in lecturing Aurin about his magic. Even though it makes him uncomfortable, he assumes no one can see it like he can. Was he in the wrong?

"I have a question." Yshvold put his utensils down, and took a minute before he could find the right words. Training would come and he will adapt to what they wanted to show him as it happened, pay didn't concern him if it would be enough to have a room to himself and food on the table, and with no work happening any time soon then there was something more personal he wanted to know.

"Can you... help me find out my birthday? I want to celebrate it one day. That's supposed to be something normal people do, right?" Each word came out slowly, as though Yshvold didn't actually know what he was asking for. He kept from making eye contact and stared at the meat pie in front of him.

Yshvold's face slowly scrunch up as he waits for Aurin to shoot him down, or tell him that it is impossible. He has so many things he wants to find out, but many of them would be a futile effort. Their deaths happening so long ago would mean that the thread would have been severed before he had the chance to act on it. The faces of his own parents are now no more than a haze in his memory and the girl that took care of him for a time died before telling him her name. Maybe she never fully trusted him, or she was careful in case he was captured. Either way he had no confidence in investigating either options.

His fingers fidgeted on the fork as his mouth opened to ask something else, but he knew he had done enough damage to not ask for more. The thought to apologize came up, but Aurin didn't seem like the type of person to simply accept words over action, and he really just felt like going to bed and beginning a new day.