you said, ‘I’ve been in an elevator, going up and down.’

[Urs Wardell]

“More time?” Urs asks,“...within the three days or -,” his words muted to a mumbled as he ruffled through the diary.

The lost prince wandered for a time along a path paved with broken glass. The prince carved out his heart and sewed it to his sleeve so that anyone might know him intimately. And, as his heart bled forever there on his arm, he secured no ability to understand others. No creature dared expose their heart to him. He made no effort in seeing what he could not. And so the prince died there, in that strange place, alone.

These were Mother stories. Confused tales without happy endings; each, he’d been promised, a lesson to be learned. The moral hidden in the Fifth Season was more obvious than the other legends, though, which was lucky for him. Bare your heart, yes, but open yourself to the hearts of others.

Communication was a bridge.

“Fine, more time - how?” Urs said and thought and felt, as best as he could, strangely uncomfortable as trying to intensely to speak to Toothless. Mother had made it seem so simple.

The eyes slowly drew from Sivan to Urs, one by one, until all thirteen focused. Images unraveled in each pupil, of him, of Sivan, of the sun reaching past the horizon into dusk. The city, undone and then again built - imagined, Urs assumed, if only because he doubted Toothless had stood witness to the entirety of Kalzasi’s history. The stars shone and then they fell to day; clocks and watches and sand and rivers.

“How?” Urs asked, and then he thought. There were options, and he listed them as best he could; three days, from dawn to dusk, promising Toothless the day so long as it worked during night. He suggested the opposite. He suggested three days of work and three days of exploration. He imagined the clock ticking at three, then at six, then at nine, then at twelve. Perhaps he gave three hours of freedom and Toothless gave three hours of toil.

“Choose,” he said, thinking the same and feeling, openly, his anticipation and desire for a happy negotiation. He allowed himself to feel impatient, to feel rushed, because he desperately wanted the answers he sought.

He remembered Mother - and was surprised when Toothless remembered her as well.

Memories that weren’t his flooded him. They spent the day awake and alert in a strange city. The night spent the night watching the stars. Again, a day with images of clocks and hourglasses, and then the night following the minutes along the path of stars.

“Three days to search and to look for answers. I will supply the power so that you will have the purchase to do as you would throughout the night,” Urs said, and he thought of finalities and endings, and he felt positive with what he was sure agreement.

And Toothless was his mirror in those feelings.

“Then we are agreed.”

[Sivan]

Knowing now that Toothless did in fact hear thoughts that were focused enough, Sivan tried to keep his mind blank. He inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, trying to be present but not influence the proceedings. He could see some of the things reflected in some of the eyes, but didn't move for a better view in case it distracted either Urs or the eldritch creature. He could understand Urs' frustration and his urgency; later, perhaps, he would ask to read the book his mother had left with him in case he could derive some meaning from it as well. He did want to be a help to Urs.

He was able to follow the conversation for the most part between Urs' spoken words and what he could see reflected in Toothless' eyes. In the end, it seemed all Urs had needed was help making the connection, facilitating communication. Sivan smiled, proud that the other man was making headway here.

But as things concluded, he wondered if Toothless might not come in handy for him as well. He wasn't going to prevent Urs from contracting him, but...

If I call Toothless into the void, will you come and honor the same contract with me?

After all, he didn't know many eldritch spirits by name, and it might come in handy someday. Perhaps he could even send it looking for the elf who had come into his house and ruined everything, apparently with the intent to murder him. He probably should tell Urs about that; he didn't know if people who knew him personally might also be at risk. Kalzasi was supposed to be a safe place, too.

He watched to see if any of those eyes turned to him after making the agreement with Urs. Siorey hadn't come to yell at him about making a contract with a taberu, anyway. And black robes were supposed to be the vindictive ones.

[Urs Wardell]

Sivan could see his reflection in three floating eyes. A fourth drew from those three, capturing the three’s perspective in its gaze. It constructed a Sivan that was all shadow and silhouette, a man strung of paper and ink.

And there, a circle, a pen, shaking hands. A pact made, an accord struck, agreements sealed and bound by word and things older. Affirmations and positive things.

Urs opened a different notebook, one of his own, and wrote the details of the negotiation. In his sprawling chicken scratch, he explained the specifics of communications with Toothless; the connection with Mother’s stories; the importance of time, and timing, and the division of night and day. He didn’t have Mother to guide him through his deals with Spirits - Sivan would provide support, and a good substitute. The elf might not have Mother’s reputation with the Courts but he did have experience.

Which is the one area where Urs was sorely lacking.

Urs checked over his own writing, confirming that he’d recorded his thoughts exactly so. It didn’t have to be perfect but he wanted to make a record of things as best he could. While he wasn’t exactly looking for an apprentice, it would be better if he made sense of everything Mother left him and things of his own, so he had something to leave this world.

As much as he cared for Mother, she had left more questions than answers. He wouldn’t do that, not when he died.

“And, finally, breaking the circle,” Urs muttered, adding a rune to break the flow of magic. His wards broke in a shock of light - and Toothless scattered out and through whichever way it could find.

“That’s all done, I think - in three day’s time I should have some answers.”

[Sivan]

You have my gratitude and respect, he sent to Toothless. He put his hand to his heart and nodded to it, unsure whether it would understand, acknowledge, or care about such things. It was his habit to be polite and respectful to spirits, though, since he had begun speaking to those already existing in the wild. Even infernals responded to such things; they were often more self-interested than actively malicious, and many of them were proud and would respond to common respect as if he were feeding them the flattery they craved.

Sivan watched Toothless as Urs made his notations, then noted how he broke the circle. It was a bit crude, but Urs' style was more primal than his own. Whatever he learned from his mother, it tended to work for the most part. But Sivan followed an older, perhaps more elegant tradition. When your race had a tendency to be able to speak to spirits, one developed a certain intuition about things. He would show Urs how to do better next time, but for now he thought it better to celebrate his success.

"Well done," he said with a quiet smile. "I asked it if I might make the same concord in the future and it agreed. I will make sure to check with you first so I won't interfere with your investigations." He thought perhaps he ought to offer more than that even though he was giving Urs a sort of apprenticeship for free. "I know you are focusing on what you have in your book, but if you find yourself in need of a spirit for something, I will share the ones I know. There are only a handful that I maintain ongoing contracts with. There are others that I contract from time to time for specific things. The power of your spirits is one thing, but versatility and adaptability are important if you want your power to be utile.

"Who do you have it looking for now?"

[Urs Wardell]

“I don’t call on them much,” Urs said, watching the last few of Toothless’ eyes flutter about the chimney before they fled up and out into the wider world.

“I’d appreciate asking, but I wouldn’t spend too much time finding me. It’s better to find whatever you’re looking for sooner rather than later, isn’t it?” Urs closed his notebook and Mother’s, strapping them together into a bundle he placed into his own bag. He picked up the plates and bowls and blew out the candles that still burned. Those he’d leave to cool, at least for a while. The wax was still hot enough that they’d make a mess in his bag as they were.

“Besides, it’s better for us both - and Toothless - if you consider them next you need to locate something. I imagine they’d become better suited to searching within Kalzasi if they become familiar with the city.” Mother had developed her own sort of pattern with Toothless, promising maps of all sorts, of the Warrens and other places. Papers and things that she’d long since bargained with or burned, for one reason or another.

Ah - there it was, the question. He hummed, thinking. Considering. Sivan hadn’t ever seemed untrustworthy. No, on the contrary, the elf had proven time and time again to be someone Urs could trust.

“The Zachiaer Covens,” he said, remembering that Agatha had warned him against speaking too freely.

But if he was alone, if he kept this secret to himself, wasn’t he making the same mistake Mother had - that was how she ended where she did, dying when the past finally caught her. “Mother mentions them, or a story similar enough to what I’ve heard about Zachiaer, that I decided I should try my hand at finding them on my own!”

[Sivan]

Sivan smiled.

"I suppose that means you aren't going to tell me where you live," he said. Urs was often a bit secretive, which seemed strange given how forward he had been that first time they met. Now that they had spent more time together, he was able to admire Urs' face and form in a more personal way. He didn't know whether the man still wanted to kiss him, and he didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing either way, but he was glad they were getting to know each other and, given his admission, trusting each other.

He knew he had some connections with the Tower of Lore as well as his mother's strange notebooks. He knew he worked at the Tranquil Gardens now and that had helped pull him out of the Midden. But there was a lot he didn't know, and he found that he did want to know more, to know him better.

"Oh. Wow. Well, thank you for being honest and trusting me with that." He paused, considering. What he knew of the Zaichaer covens wasn't much, but from what he had overheard, they sounded like ordinary people put into extraordinary circumstances just to survive the government's distrust. They sounded almost romantic in their defiance, though he didn't know if the stories would bear out when compared with reality.

"If you find them and they need help... If I can help, let me know. I wouldn't want anyone punished for practicing magic unless they were doing something awful with it." He believed ethics ought to be applied to magic, but he didn't think the government ought to have that strict an oversight, at least not when there was no evidence of malefaction. "You think they are operating in Kalzasi as well?"

[Urs Wardell]

Urs smirked, “I move around a lot,” which was true, given he had no home - between the Tower and the Tranquil Gardens, there was always a place for him, but paying off debts and other costs had him lose the apartment he’d once had.

“I don’t know,” Urs said, offering Sivan a shrug, “All I know there is something there, between them and Mother.”

He wanted so desperately to share everything with someone - that he was a child of some Zachiaer witch, that she’d died or been captured, that Mother had fled the city with him in tow. That there was a legacy here, one invented by Mother, and another far from the city he’d known as his. That, perhaps, he had family there, in that strange city filled with animosity towards those who practiced - and perhaps even more for those who called themselves witches.

"I'd tell them you offered if I find them. Depends on Toothless, I suppose. I am no spy. I am not a hunter. If they wish to remain hidden, I doubt there's little else I could do to find them."

That, having felt like he had no place after so long, the hope of having a home was enough to push him to recklessness that might seem him dead. Agatha had warned him that the Covens had little in the way of friends outside of their own.

It’d be worse now, she said, with Zachaier and Kalzasi at each other’s throats. The Tower wouldn’t protect him, and neither could she, not if he was caught.

There were worse things than death.

[Sivan]

Sivan nodded.

"It does seem like your mother's way of doing things has more... flair than what you're learning at the Tower," he said. There were some who would look down on such, but he wasn't one. The Hytori had sneered at his Dratori spiritwalking until he had proven himself as a summoner. That was one reason he had eschewed any classical training, opting instead for masters with whom he felt a rapport, first the one who took him out of Sol'Valen, and then Master Jacun in Kalzasi. He still wasn't sure what he would do when he completed his apprenticeship, which seemed likely to happen next season. There were things tying him to Kalzasi for the time being and not just that apprenticeship.

"Well, I will try not to be nosy, but I am interested. Oh... you know, you might speak to my friend Torin. He's a runeforger, just set up his own forge in the neighborhood. He's... hm, well connected. He might know where to start asking questions."

Sivan didn't know how to explain what he suspected, that Torin's lover was the sort to gather secrets. But Sivan trusted Torin, and Torin trusted him. If Urs trusted Sivan, then perhaps that chain might lead somewhere. But he wasn't going to force the issue, just offer what he could to Urs, who always seemed to appreciate what he was given.

"It's nice, you know," he said out of nowhere, "having you come around sometimes. I hope my help is... you know, helpful." He made a face at his awkward phrasing. He could blame it on Common not being his first language, but he often got tongue-tied in Mythrasi and Rivach as well; and in Rivach, his hands being busy augmenting the words didn't even help.

[Urs Wardell]

“She did,” Urs said, smug in the difference. His technique left his peers befuddled, even offended in one instance, but he treasured the legacy left by Mother. As strange as her stories were, they promised lessons there were uniquely hers. And even though she was dead, Urs carried on her practice.

Theirs was a tradition of shears and blood and offerings. Urs’ magic was visceral and messy, raw in how he shaped ritual and spell. It stood at odds with the Tower’s structure and metrics. And, as much as he hadn’t wanted to, there was value to a Tower education. He was far safer there than he’d been on his own - private labs, assistants, whole libraries at his fingertips.

It was more resources than he’d ever seen in his life.

“Even so, I appreciate the Tower’s education. Fumbling around on my own, with all of this,” he gestured at the ritual leftovers, smears of chalk, and the lingering scent of lavender, “Wasn’t easy. It’s why I appreciated meeting you. I feel…less unsure, now.”

It was kismet, in a way, meeting the elf. Urs would need a way to improve his summoning ability - something that wasn’t taught at the Red Tower.

“Maybe,” Urs said, “If you trust this Torin, if you think he’d know where to search,” he smiled, not entirely confident. Trusting Sivan was one thing - trusting another, a stranger, was different entirely.

[Sivan]

"Well, mages are mysterious," he said with an awkward smile. "I can tell you where his forge is and you can tell him you're a friend of mine and I'm certain he will help you. Or I can introduce you if you prefer. It might be good for you to know a runeforger anyway. And he learned from a master, not from the Tower, so you might have more in common than you would think."

It made him a bit nervous connecting people. Having friends was new for him, and so introducing one friend to another came with a new sort of anxiety. Thankfully, Torin and Destyn had already known each other, so they got along famously.

"Oh, and I suppose you should know... the reason why my furniture has improved, ah... it's not my income. There was a break-in about a month ago. They didn't steal anything, though. The Sky Guard was confused, but I found a clue that connects it to a mercenary group. Someone might be... trying to hurt me. So, I just want you to keep an eye out when you're on your way here or leaving here. In fact, I can walk you to the Tower if you like..."

He wasn't much of a battle mage, but he was able to contract more powerful spirits now and they could protect themselves and him. And Urs if need be.

"I think I'd like to do that, actually. A walk will help me clear my head, too, and I won't enjoy it so much once the weather gets truly awful." He grinned and led Urs up from the cellar so he could grab his coat and they could depart. "And then I can tell you the whole story. Such as it is."

fin.