51 Ash, Year 122
[Closed - Raithen]
Hilana always enjoyed her mornings. Perhaps it was the fact that she had gotten used to never having a schedule when she was in the sands - that sometimes they traveled at night, sometimes during the day. Sometimes she had watch at night, sometimes she slept. Wildness might have had something to do with it; Hilana rarely needed as much sleep as she had seen others require. And even as a herbalist, she constantly encouraged people to get themselves on a regular sleep schedule if at all possible, and to make sure that they were taking the time to rest. The body knew what it needed… sometimes the challenge was quieting the mind. Still, between studying, and starting to practice with Hayima’el to condition both of them to get ready for Glade, her lessons and work, studying from the books and greenhouses, taking Finn into the Sands… when she slept, she slept well, and she was always ready to go again.
Hilana liked seeing the sunrises and the sunsets - and if she didn’t have a reason to stay in her bed, such as company or oversleeping, dawn was beautiful. Even if it was sitting on a roof somewhere and watching the phantasmagoria as the colours washed over the districts. It wasn’t quite the same as sitting atop a camel on the dunes and looking on, but the beauty of the colours washing over the various architectural designs of the capitol was breathtakingly beautiful in its own right. She was fortunate enough to have good views from her apartment, though she knew she was incredibly lucky in that regard. But today, she’d gotten to watch the sunrise from her kitchen with a cup of tea while the bougatsa baked in the oven. Last night had been busy with the ball, but Hilana was up and firing on all cylinders. On the days in which she baked pastries for breakfast, she had gotten into the habit of bringing them in to share. Vasilei enjoyed them, and Hilana just liked sharing the food that she made and seeing people happy about it. Besides, she'd taken off most of the day before, and she had work to make up.
And today was no different. She had made a quick trip to Æden's home to drop off a number of the fresh pastries as a thank you to him and his family before taking the rest of them with her to work. Hilana had another morning lesson with Vasilei, another test of her studying and her memory, but rather than just asking her to identify ingredients, he had set her to work on making the propolis burn gel. It was unsurprisingly popular, because not only did it take care of regular burns from hot surfaces or sunburn near instantly, it worked wonders for those injuries sustained from magical, chemical, and acidic burns. It sapped out the heat and helped repair the skin and restore the blood supply underneath, all while keeping infection at bay. And considering the frequency of encounters with Wyverns and basilisks, not to mention the popularity of Elementalism, and in a city full of mages and no Mendicants… along with a fixation on appearances and vanity… it was a perfect storm. And Vasilei enjoyed testing her with this.
“Are you sure you’ve added enough propolis? What about the moss jelly?” The man challenged her as he watched her with the spoons, scales, and bowl. “You’re forgetting something, aren’t you?” It may have seemed harsh, but he liked to keep the pressure on her as she worked. They had peace and quiet in the store, there were no customers in a bad state needing something whipped up right there… all but barking at her questions and trying to shake her faith in her own abilities. See if he could get her to hesitate or make mistakes. This way, in a bonafide emergency… she would be ready. He’d tested her before with other scenarios, and more than once involved his children and his children’s friends to try to shake his student up and build up some anxiety in order to ensure she could beat it.
“I did,” Hilana glanced at him as she took the bamboo whisk to the mixture, having propped the mixing bowl on a little towel to help give it some traction. “It’s weighed out as per the recipe in the book.”
“Are you sure about that?” That was one of his favourite questions with the bubbly girl. He used it often, not just when he wanted to challenge her, but sometimes as a warning. Think hard.
“Yes.” Hilana was firm in that. “I am.”
“You’re missing something,” he reminded her, reaching over and flicking the sturdy cover of the book where it was on its stand, angled and out of the way of the ingredients gathered. The resulting thump got her attention and while she kept whisking, she was going over the recipe again, reading it and recounting everything that had gone into it. He could watch the way her eyes darted around the table, inventorying the components. “That looks like it’s going to split and break.”
“It isn’t,” she was stubborn, lifting the whisk and watching the way the gel had coagulated and thickened. “That looks about right from the bottles you’ve made and the last time I cooked it.”
“‘About right’,” he repeated. “Is it right or isn’t it?” He kept on poking at her.
“It’s right,” she set the bowl in front of him and let him look at it. He used a spoon to test the thickness and colour, how well it had come together in a uniform mass.
“I suppose it is,” her mentor said finally, but there was approval there. “Not bad at all, wild child. You did well. You can bottle it and tidy up. I’ve got some house calls to make,” Vasilei smiled at her, packing up his leather satchel. “I’ll be back later on to check in on you, and you can tell me how the Ball at the Embassy went. Thank you for breakfast,” he took one of the bougatsa from the warming plate that she had placed them on before he headed out the door.
“See you later, Vasilei,” Hilana’s good cheer was back as she waved him off, getting the short, squat clay jars out before using the wide-mouthed funnel to spoon the gel in and get them filled up. Most of their wares were stored in glass, but this one kept better in clay. Once everything was tidied up and her hands washed, Hilana let Tiaz curl up on his driftwood branch while she opened up the enormous book while tea steeped in the pot over the Runeforged hotplate near the back table. The tantalizing aromas of pastries and tea added to the scents of herbs and flowers and plants that was usually predominant in the shop. The Vastiana was visible from the door, her long black hair still smooth and shinier than normal from the styling products of the night before, though it was wound into a thick bun atop her head, and her long skirts pooled around her legs under the table, a pale green the colour of seafoam. Her short shirt didn't cover much at all, leaving her arms free and her dusky skin contrasting the white fabric. Her bright clothes were a contrast to the black and gold she had worn the night before, but it definitely felt good to be out of those sleeves...
[Closed - Raithen]
Hilana always enjoyed her mornings. Perhaps it was the fact that she had gotten used to never having a schedule when she was in the sands - that sometimes they traveled at night, sometimes during the day. Sometimes she had watch at night, sometimes she slept. Wildness might have had something to do with it; Hilana rarely needed as much sleep as she had seen others require. And even as a herbalist, she constantly encouraged people to get themselves on a regular sleep schedule if at all possible, and to make sure that they were taking the time to rest. The body knew what it needed… sometimes the challenge was quieting the mind. Still, between studying, and starting to practice with Hayima’el to condition both of them to get ready for Glade, her lessons and work, studying from the books and greenhouses, taking Finn into the Sands… when she slept, she slept well, and she was always ready to go again.
Hilana liked seeing the sunrises and the sunsets - and if she didn’t have a reason to stay in her bed, such as company or oversleeping, dawn was beautiful. Even if it was sitting on a roof somewhere and watching the phantasmagoria as the colours washed over the districts. It wasn’t quite the same as sitting atop a camel on the dunes and looking on, but the beauty of the colours washing over the various architectural designs of the capitol was breathtakingly beautiful in its own right. She was fortunate enough to have good views from her apartment, though she knew she was incredibly lucky in that regard. But today, she’d gotten to watch the sunrise from her kitchen with a cup of tea while the bougatsa baked in the oven. Last night had been busy with the ball, but Hilana was up and firing on all cylinders. On the days in which she baked pastries for breakfast, she had gotten into the habit of bringing them in to share. Vasilei enjoyed them, and Hilana just liked sharing the food that she made and seeing people happy about it. Besides, she'd taken off most of the day before, and she had work to make up.
And today was no different. She had made a quick trip to Æden's home to drop off a number of the fresh pastries as a thank you to him and his family before taking the rest of them with her to work. Hilana had another morning lesson with Vasilei, another test of her studying and her memory, but rather than just asking her to identify ingredients, he had set her to work on making the propolis burn gel. It was unsurprisingly popular, because not only did it take care of regular burns from hot surfaces or sunburn near instantly, it worked wonders for those injuries sustained from magical, chemical, and acidic burns. It sapped out the heat and helped repair the skin and restore the blood supply underneath, all while keeping infection at bay. And considering the frequency of encounters with Wyverns and basilisks, not to mention the popularity of Elementalism, and in a city full of mages and no Mendicants… along with a fixation on appearances and vanity… it was a perfect storm. And Vasilei enjoyed testing her with this.
“Are you sure you’ve added enough propolis? What about the moss jelly?” The man challenged her as he watched her with the spoons, scales, and bowl. “You’re forgetting something, aren’t you?” It may have seemed harsh, but he liked to keep the pressure on her as she worked. They had peace and quiet in the store, there were no customers in a bad state needing something whipped up right there… all but barking at her questions and trying to shake her faith in her own abilities. See if he could get her to hesitate or make mistakes. This way, in a bonafide emergency… she would be ready. He’d tested her before with other scenarios, and more than once involved his children and his children’s friends to try to shake his student up and build up some anxiety in order to ensure she could beat it.
“I did,” Hilana glanced at him as she took the bamboo whisk to the mixture, having propped the mixing bowl on a little towel to help give it some traction. “It’s weighed out as per the recipe in the book.”
“Are you sure about that?” That was one of his favourite questions with the bubbly girl. He used it often, not just when he wanted to challenge her, but sometimes as a warning. Think hard.
“Yes.” Hilana was firm in that. “I am.”
“You’re missing something,” he reminded her, reaching over and flicking the sturdy cover of the book where it was on its stand, angled and out of the way of the ingredients gathered. The resulting thump got her attention and while she kept whisking, she was going over the recipe again, reading it and recounting everything that had gone into it. He could watch the way her eyes darted around the table, inventorying the components. “That looks like it’s going to split and break.”
“It isn’t,” she was stubborn, lifting the whisk and watching the way the gel had coagulated and thickened. “That looks about right from the bottles you’ve made and the last time I cooked it.”
“‘About right’,” he repeated. “Is it right or isn’t it?” He kept on poking at her.
“It’s right,” she set the bowl in front of him and let him look at it. He used a spoon to test the thickness and colour, how well it had come together in a uniform mass.
“I suppose it is,” her mentor said finally, but there was approval there. “Not bad at all, wild child. You did well. You can bottle it and tidy up. I’ve got some house calls to make,” Vasilei smiled at her, packing up his leather satchel. “I’ll be back later on to check in on you, and you can tell me how the Ball at the Embassy went. Thank you for breakfast,” he took one of the bougatsa from the warming plate that she had placed them on before he headed out the door.
“See you later, Vasilei,” Hilana’s good cheer was back as she waved him off, getting the short, squat clay jars out before using the wide-mouthed funnel to spoon the gel in and get them filled up. Most of their wares were stored in glass, but this one kept better in clay. Once everything was tidied up and her hands washed, Hilana let Tiaz curl up on his driftwood branch while she opened up the enormous book while tea steeped in the pot over the Runeforged hotplate near the back table. The tantalizing aromas of pastries and tea added to the scents of herbs and flowers and plants that was usually predominant in the shop. The Vastiana was visible from the door, her long black hair still smooth and shinier than normal from the styling products of the night before, though it was wound into a thick bun atop her head, and her long skirts pooled around her legs under the table, a pale green the colour of seafoam. Her short shirt didn't cover much at all, leaving her arms free and her dusky skin contrasting the white fabric. Her bright clothes were a contrast to the black and gold she had worn the night before, but it definitely felt good to be out of those sleeves...