My Work, Your Work, Our Work [Torin]

[Aurin]

Kilvin's Forge, Kalzasi
65th of Frost, Year 122 of Steel

"...and I don't know if it would be worth your time to make them for, say, Elwes. Soon enough, I should be able to riddle the city with portals that only my people can open. Or just places for people to run to ground. Hm, and transport goods."

Aurin was just sitting there in the comforting heat of the forge talking through his thoughts. While he was making good on his promises to the covens, he was also using Traversion for his own benefit. That was why he was there, too. Between his Rune and Torin's genius, they could be anywhere they wanted to be. He was hoping to get down to Solunarium in the next season to check on Arry, and he really ought to go check out Zaichaer again. His trips were regular, of a sort. He was madly curious about those flying islands, and he heard tell that Stefan Dornkirk was running them. But Aurin didn't know on what terms they would meet; they had gotten on well enough, but Zaichaer blamed Kalzasi for the destruction of their city and despite the Kalzasern regency government stating it hadn't been them...

Well, people squinted at that.

Aurin had spoken at length about Portions for Foxes business as well as Golden Peacock business. He didn't even mind if Torin was listening or not, his attention on the magical doorknobs. It helped Aurin to go over things, sort them in his mind by saying them out into the air where he could hear his own thoughts aloud. Torin's place and Torin's presence were comfortable like that.

The fox-faced man was standing by, ready to channel aether through his Rune to help Torin capture those patterns and imprint them into his enchantments.

[Torin Kilvin]

Torin was nodding along, making little notes in the book he kept for 'personal' projects, though almost all of them were for friends. After he'd expanded the network of the pendants to include most of the employees of Aurin's private business it was easier to get information from one side of the city to the other without having to risk travel through the streets. The business seemed to be expanding regularly, so there weren't, now, enough pendants to go around but they could be exchanged from one person to another if need be. If Torin needed to give his up he would, have carefully removing his original pendant from the newer, larger one. He intended to never be without it. If Aurin ever gave the master pendant which all the others were linked to away, Torin had shown him how to remove his original as well. They were connected, and having a physical expression of that was more centering and calming for the smith than any words could be.

There were now seven of the pendants, six individual ones and the master that could connect with any of the others, and more than one at once, as needed. If the master was connected to two or more of the subordinates they could all hear each other and there had been a couple little trial 'meetings' where they had all been listening to Aurin. So far the whole set had been working as expected, to Torin's pride and relief. There had been times when Aurin making his way to meet with one of his people had kept Torin up all night in worry.

They were speaking as they worked, the final adjustments to the magical knobs were the order of the day for the pair, and Torin was just as interested in watching what Aurin did to check that the stones were correctly aligned to their destinations as he was in them working. The idea had come from the traveling pendants that used Beacon Stones, and relied on the same principles, with adjustments for being used within a door frame. Using a frame just felt safer in the smith's head. He'd seen Aurin open portals in the middle of his yard and other places several times now and the blurred edges that faded into the air had made him tense up and shudder every time. The Stones had been planted in the ground at each destination months ago and were now all sitting in a velvet lined box awaiting the completion of their housings.

The other agents not needing the knobs made sense, and they hadn't been intentionally made for the business. They were so Torin and his friends could get to each other, and now to the valley, without being in danger. With the oddities that had invaded the world since Searing there was no telling if things were safe from one day to the next. Aurin could visit any of his agents anywhere in the city and even further away, and now that they could all communicate, if they needed to get somewhere urgently they could call on him for a 'ride'.

When Aurin came up behind him to observe what was taking place inside the aether forge Torin's body melded towards him without breaking his concentration.

"Do you see?" He asked, quietly. Torin's voice was almost always quiet when he was working in the runeforge, as though it were sacred in some way. What he meant was the aetheral connection between the knobs and where the stones would be. The knob he currently had in his tongs needed a nudge, a little push towards where the Stone would lead it. "There? Can you?"

The sentences were incomplete but they didn't need full verbal communication when they were speaking to each other through their connected Semblance runes.

[Aurin]

Aurin could see. Though Torin had mastered the trick far quicker than he had, Aurin had years of experience with it. He just didn't understand runeforging as well as the runesmith.

"I see..." He considered. "I knew this painter. She was gorgeous, and... so were her paintings. She used to talk about this concept of negative space. Like, how the shapes that the figure she was drawing had to be interesting. No... the space around the figure. Anyway... I can see that, like you've made shapes that are waiting for... my traveling trick." He smirked, thinking how Valencia would react to him calling the holy craft of the Railrunners a trick. "I still need you to walk me through it so I don't mess up and waste all your hard work, but I think I see where my trick is supposed to fit into the... course you've laid."

In fact, he didn't truly have the vocabulary to discuss magic in any sort of intelligent way. He had learned more from listening to Torin talk and from his brief instruction by Valencia than he had otherwise. Before them, he had learned by trial and error, understanding things intuitively more than anything else.

Aurin glanced at the illumite lamp that allowed them to work magic and play tricks with impunity.

"I just hope someone deals with the fucking eclipse. I shouldn't need one of these, but... well, if they don't deal with the eclipse, I will."

He grumped a bit. Rumor had it Talon had freed himself from his captors, and yet he hadn't returned to Kalzasi or, if he had, not publicly, not permanently. The succession was in question and the numb nuts was just contributing to a power vaccuum while they were in magical crisis as well.

[Torin Kilvin]

As much as he understood the minutia, technical terms and theory of the magic he used, Torin's understanding of the gods and whatever other massive powers that caused things like the current eclipse situation was entirely out of his grasp. Aurin's form was warm behind him, which was pleasant in the runeforge where heat was not a constant given as it was in the blacksmithy. It felt solid and helped keep worries about the unknown at bay, even with the evidence of them all around them. The uses the lamps he'd made as his first project in his own forge had proved beyond useful again and again, and sometimes he wondered if he did have a deity of some kind watching over him.

Though Torin did not have any magic that he could directly manipulate via his own aether, he had learned that he could move his own aether, and with the air of his Semblance rune he'd learned to be able to show things to others who also had the rune. Sometimes he used it to communicate complex things with Sivan or Aurin when they were working together that were better shown than spoken. Sometimes he also used it to express non-work related things that he didn't wish to say out loud or at least not in whatever company they were currently in. It didn't work as well as he'd hoped when what he was communicating was of a sexual nature, because he still blushed or fidgeted and if the other people in the room knew him at all they could guess that something was up.

Still, it was proving very useful in teaching Aurin how to manipulate his rune adjusted aether into the forge. Pulling up a tiny strand of his raw aether he moved it in front of the redhead, playing it over the place where, if it had been channeled through a Traversion rune, it would have created a bridge between the magic in the knob and the magic in the Beacon stone that would soon be placed into it.

"If you lay the connection like this, a little open, it should close once the stone is in place, but open back up if it is taken out, so another can be put in its place." He didn't ask if it made sense, if it didn't Aurin would say so, or grunt, and Torin would try again.

[Aurin]

When Torin didn't respond except to show him where he needed the aether, Aurin wasn't upset. He was here to help, after all, and he was learning about his own new trick at the same time as he learned about his boy's genius, and a part of Torin was listening—they would likely discuss things later when he had digested Aurin's words, finished his work for the day, and had something of value to offer back. He was no longer surprised when Torin brought him some insight to a problem that was no longer at the forefront of his mind, his insight cut and polished like a gem and offered up to his master when all he had sought was rough stone.

The runesmith was his best investment yet.

The way Aurin manipulated his aether through his traversion rune was much more elegant than his glamours and such; Valencia had taught him what to do, and while he had tried to apply those lessons to other runes and it yielded some success, they were all different crafts in the end.

Like a spider, he spun out a sort of funnel that almost disappeared into the space between the two objects, then opened up again into a mirror-image, the new funnel opening like a flower to the light. Then he secured the weave, aligning threads of the slipspace between the two parts of the artifact. It didn't take him this long to vault across the city, but this was a complex enchantment of which he and his trick were only one part.

The fox eyed his work critically before twisting his lips and sitting back. It was never good enough. Hazel eyes climbed Torin like a tree, landing on his face to gauge his reaction.

"Will that do?"

[Torin Kilvin]

Torin watched, his concentration so nearly all on the work they were about that he didn't even notice his own body molding back into the one behind it. When he felt as much as saw the little thread of aether flowing around freely suddenly snap into place as though pulled by a lode stone a beautiful grin spread over his face.

Nodding without realizing he hadn't answered out loud he moved the piece in his tongs from one side to the other, checking each part before carefully withdrawing it from the runeforge and placing it on his marble workbench. When he was sure the first was safe he turned back and said,

"If we can repeat that on the others, they'll be done in the forge." They wouldn't be fully done, not till he added the last of the complex Scrivening with Kala, but it still felt like a weight being lifted slowly from his shoulders. The knobs were the longest single project he had ever worked, his first truly Masterwork creation.

As he grasped and turned the second knob he glanced over his shoulder at his master, realizing in retrospect that he hadn't been using his words in his hyper-concentrated state.

"I'm sorry if I wasn't answering you properly, sometimes when I'm working its hard to think in words..." He would have been fidgeting while he apologized if his hands hadn't both been busy already. Aurin knew how he got when he was working, had taken advantage of it several times, but it felt particularly rude not to answer questions while they were actively working together.

Making their way through the remaining knobs was simpler in that they both knew what they were doing now, but still took the better part of an hour. When the last was finally resting on the Scrivened surface of the workbench Torin put the tongs back in their place on the wall and then sort of slumped. It was more for the way it felt to be done than that he was physically tired in truth; he felt free and accomplished together

Reaching into a cabinet he pulled out a flask of apple cider that had been fresh brewed only a few days before. It was only mildly alcoholic, little enough that Timon was allowed to drink it without asking first, but it was delicious and refreshing without cooling one down too much for the season. Unstoppering the bottle he drank without bothering with the cups, then handed it to Aurin.

"Feels good to have that done." He sighed contentedly, "Mostly." He waited while Aurin drank before adding, "It isn't the only thing either."

Moving to the large chest he used for storing runeforged items that were finished while they waited to be collected he pulled back the lid and from it drew a pair of boots. The leather was dark, but not quite black and the workmanship was fine, though there was nothing especially fancy about them. It would take an eye that knew leather work to see that the quality of both materials and handiwork were as excellent as could be bought in the city. It would take someone with high level Semblance indeed to notice the subtle, inverted enchantment upon them.

[Aurin]

"I know, boy," he said with a smirk.

Glad his part had gone off without a hitch, he pulled his head from side to side, stretching his neck and shoulders to relieve tension he hadn't known was there. For all the power he had earned from the covens, anything other than playing tricks felt like he was out of his league. Magic had always been something to avoid or survive, and he certainly felt like an impostor when Torin needed his tricks to turn them into artifacts.

"Aye," he agreed, taking a swig of the cider. He took one more to grow on before handing it back. "It'll be good you and others can get around without me having to be there or risk another... you know." He still felt guilty about how hard Torin's threshold sickness had hit him, even if it had only presaged an almost impossible learning curve. Aurin tried to remind himself that it had worked out and only made Torin a stronger enchanter of fine things. For all that he played the bad man, he only really managed to hide his guilt and shame.

If it had been safer, he might have given the Railrunners' gift to his Whispers, as well as his other employees, the better to get them into places thought oughtn't to be and out of situations that were too dangerous. Perhaps in time, but likely not until Valenica deemed him skilled enough to do for others what she had done for him. But so far, his partnership with Torin had been good for both the forge and Portions for Foxes.

"What's this?" he asked reflexively, taking the fine boots and looking them over. Had he seen them in a shop, he would merely have admired them. As a gift from Torin, he paid keener attention. "Have you hidden something in these?" Aurin wasn't sure he wanted to look too deeply for inversions; he always worried he would break them if he was clumsy about his knowing.

[Torin Kilvin]

It took Torin a moment to realize that Aurin had never actually seen the boots as boots, he had helped with the leather, but it had been more than a month since they'd discussed the making and he'd done his part.

"They're the Lightstep Boots we discussed making for you and the Whipsers." The phrase, 'to protect little feet' entered his head as an echo from their initial conversation but he didn't say it. Whatever Aurin told himself, Torin knew first hand how well the man protected the people who relied on him.

"I inverted the aether as it went in, so no one should be able to see it. Well," Running a hand over the back of his neck, a little sore from the long hours of staring into the runeforge and kiln, "Maybe a god could, or an incredibly well trained, powerful Sembler."

He had no idea how a Lysanrin's ability to sense magic in their own way might would on runeforged objects.

"The cloaks won't be done for a few weeks yet, but I would understand if you wanted to hand these out before then." It was the coldest season and Torin worried for the little coven. Even realizing that there was no way in the hells Aurin would have let them run about the city for him without boots that already kept their feet dry. Heights were not one of the smith's strong points, though he could handle them if he needed to, the concept of being up any higher than a third story made his head try and spin.

Typically he would talk over how the enchantments worked on any new item he invented, or adjusted, but, as with Aurin's bracers, with the inverted weaving, even the man who had given him his Semblance wouldn't be able to see the aether lines. He supposed he could just reiterate what the magic would do,

"They do what normal Lightstep boots do; when you activate them they'll allow you to run along air as though it were solid ground, or the surface of water. Climbing up can be done as though you were walking up stairs, and requires as much energy, and if you fall of your feet, you fall. You can just step back if you start to lose balance, but don't fall onto your backside, or shoulder, or try to catch with your hands. I imagine if the water is moving rapidly walking will be difficult, and if the waves are big enough you will get soaked and potentially knocked off your feet and into the water too."

He paused to walk reach in and take a second, identical pair of boots from the chest,

"Additionally I put a similar enchantment on them as the cloaks in that they can change size to fit whoever wears them and with concentration the wearer can change how they look a bit, raising or lowering the heel, changing the style a bit." He shrugged one shoulder as this seemed less important than the rest, "They are reinforced so they won't scuff or tear and they're about as tough as good steel armor, so someone trying to stomp on or stab the feet of the wearer wouldn't do much, if any damage. A heavy mace would probably crush them, which wouldn't really damage the leather much but the foot inside would suffer."

Explanation finished he nodded to the pair Aurin held,

"You can try them on if you want, they'll fit you." Saying this he propped his butt against the chest and toed out of his simple working boots to put on the second pair. Despite the two pairs looking the same size, which was decidedly too small for Torin, they seemed to stretch as he pressed first one foot, and then the other inside. When he stood in them, they looked as though made to measure.

[Aurin]

"Oh. Of course..."

Aurin did recall once prompted, but his mind was constantly running on various problems at once. His work at the theater was full-time, though he had learned how to manage and delegate so that he could make it more flexible when he needed to. He was a nexus of information and deals in the city and beyond, overseeing Ashoka, Elwes, the Whispers, Rivin, and even occasionally communicated with Arry off in Solunarium. There were deals being made through his keiretsu, Portions for Foxes, and money moving around.

"Lightstep boots. I helped with the glamours. Just took me a second."

He turned one over in his hands, looking for an edge in the inversion that he could pull up to sneak under and see what they were in fact, but he would have had to look a lot harder and a lot longer to find one. He nodded, impressed.

Aurin brought all his attention to the here and now, to Torin. As busy as he was, he did try to be present when he was with Torin. If he couldn't always express his feelings in words, he wanted Torin to know that he was a priority in his life. When Torin pulled out a second pair, he smiled. And when Torin began to try them on, he smirked, pulled off one of his boots.

"Boy," he snapped in an entirely different tone of voice. "Come here."

When Torin inevitably did, Aurin took him by the hair and shoved his face into the sole of his foot. He wasn't gross; he bathed regularly—more regularly at Torin's house than anywhere else given his luxurious setup. But the smith had a nose for his scent and sometimes he liked to remind him of things outside the bedroom as well.

Once Torin was quite affected, Aurin pushed him back onto his knees and tossed the boot to him. He leaned back.

"Put them on me."

[Torin Kilvin]

Aurin's mind was so many places now; in addition to running the Peacock and his own growing business, he was aiding in Torin's. The redhead was basically running the investment and finances as well as sending new, wealthy clients the Forge's way from the Theater and assisting Torin with his runes whenever he could. How he kept up with all of it Torin did not know and could not imagine. The smith was better when allowed to concentrate on his one career's work, and Aurin, and increasingly Timon, allowed him to do so.

The tone of the conversation charged suddenly and Torin's mind slipped without resistance from craftsman to bondsman, as his body slipped from standing to kneeling. Turning his face into the touch he nuzzled at Aurin's foot like a contented pet might, scenting him and absorbing his presence through the touch. Eyes beginning to droop into a space that was as much contentment as it was submission, the cares and thoughts of all else fell away. When he was shoved back onto his heels, and nearly his ass, it was a smile that appeared on his face rather than any form of affront. Sitting forward again he took one of the shoes and, with a kiss placed softly into each of Aurin's arches, he slipped on first one, and then the other. They would be comfortable without stockings, and warm, but he was still going to recommend they be worn for the sake of warmth above the tops of the boots.

Lacing them with fingers that were both careful and deft despite their calloused appearance he sat back to look at his handiwork. They were his favorite kind of creation; simple in appearance, made with exquisite care, intended to be used to a purpose. Knowing they were on Aurin's feet meant that his man was safer, that his feet would always be warm and dry, that running along the rooftops of the city would be safer for him. In combination with his bracers, climbing and falling were both unlikely to damage him. Unless he was unconscious and unable to activate them.

This thought would normally have worried at his brain for ages, but, in his submissive space Torin was able to push it aside like a boatman might gentle remove a clump of weeds from his boat with his pole.

"Do they please you, Master?" It was almost a ritual between them; Torin needing to ask, Aurin giving him the praise he craved.