"...But to Command."

[Pharaoh]

Vrædyn merely nodded in answer to the expression of gratitude, and sat back as a light dish of sautéed Vasta perch served with herb-encrusted naan bread drizzled with olive oil was placed before him. He adjusted the orientation of the plate and glanced up as the question was posed.

"We are all of us expected to specialise in some Craft and exceed mere mastery of it. The ability to wield magic is, as you know, deemed a blessing in our culture. My house is considered to be worthy because of our superior magical ability... which is, of course, believed to be part and parcel to our pure Varværyn blood. I was a boy of twelve when I took on the Rune of Mesmer. Young for an human, let alone an elf. There are some cultures who might say that it was too early... that I oughtn't have learned to manipulate minds whilst mine was still not fully formed, but we believe the opposite. That one cannot truly be at one with the Craft if one comes to the Craft too late... And that the Mesmer's mind should develop along with their Craft to better wield it." He shrugged,

"That is not to say that those who come to it later cannot achieve grandmastery, but I likely came to it younger and with greater ease. As you know, we also have formalised training in magic, so there are sages available to help one exceed and excel. I, of course, had private tutors throughout my youth. Mesmer being Mesmer, my education could be instilled through senses beyond the six mundane. I understand His Exalted Highness accelerated his learning of the Vastian language through these means, and perhaps you did as well." He smiled to himself,

"It just occurred to me that I might use my Craft to glean that information, but... Well, perhaps you find this, too, that life can be incredibly dull if one overexercises this particular talent. It can wholly void the need for conversation, and can make one turn inward... Or at least so it may seem to the outside world, even as their mind is awash with the thoughts and feelings of others. I prefer discourse, by and large. I rather like people."

[Finn]

"I did as well," he averred, smiling. He wasn't ashamed. It had helped him to understand the language more intuitively, and it had been important for surviving the sea of sand and politics in which he and Arvælyn had found themselves. His smile widened further.

"I enjoy people and discourse as well. I suppose I ought to learn to scrive, as well. I understand between that and Mesmer, one can write binding contracts. I suppose I can already make specific binding contracts through Deus Aværys' grace." He wasn't sure who he ought to seek fealty from—perhaps those who became his Leh'anafel, perhaps any servi who belonged to him. And speaking of specific, "I always used my Rune specifically. I suppose that my long time spent learning helped me to be subtle about it, though. I was never commanding; I was nudging, facilitating. Not forcing my audience to feel something, just be open to the music, to enjoying their time, perhaps sometimes to be slightly more generous if rent was coming due.

"Most often now... I keep it going to maintain a sense of the mood of the crowd I'm moving in, but I also prefer to speak to people, to keep my normal intuition sharp and not always rely upon the power it confers. I want it to be a tool rather than a crutch." He paused. "Which is not a criticism of you or Solunarian magic, merely my thought process as a solitary practicing... Mesmer." He supposed Zef would have sponsored him for the Circle had he wished it; life might have turned out quite differently. If it had meant not meeting Arry, though, he would never make the mistake of making a different choice were the Deus Velar to offer him that ability.

"Do you enjoy music particularly?" he asked. "'Tis my favorite thing—after Arvælyn—but I shan't bore you overmuch with talk of music if it doesn't interest you."

[Pharaoh]

"Well done, you." Vrædyn nodded. "To me it just seems wise to exploit all available avenues toward personal advancement." He cracked a fresh smile, "...At least within the confines of one's station" He added as an afterthought, that he might not have voiced if his company were not a foreigner who may not leap to that assumption as naturally. Kalzasi, as he understood it, was quite a chaotic place, after all.

Vrædyn seemed surprised at Finn's interest in Scrivening.

"It is a Craft at which I have been working myself, though I've yet to master it!" He said, as Finn rose another rung on the ladder of his estimation. The prince took a few bites as Finn elaborated upon his history with their common Craft.

"By and large, it is used subtly here. I'm certain you've noticed the furtive interludes that secret into the Symphonies of the populace in certain parts of the city or at certain events... Placating disquiet or insinuating awe toward lofty individuals. The Ministerium Divinitatis also uses a softer touch when we are emphasising religious education. Typically you'll only see true command being exploited at the higher echelons, or between domini and their servi. Or, of course, in the criminal justice and rehabilitation system." By now Finn would have heard enough about the Collegium Obsequium to know that it exploited a more direct and forceful form of Mesmer to correct heterodox behaviour in the unruly.

"But gentle plying has an important place in our society. I daresay more so than its more imperious counterpart, because if instilled early it negates the need for such." At Finn's light critique of Solunarian magical mores, the Pontifex' smile turned more impish.

"Cogitate: What is a crutch but a form of tool?" He tilted his head, "And what is a crutch to one who was never hobbled?" He sipped his wine and allowed Finn to consider.

"I do, yes. Various styles of music appeal to me. I did enjoy your very formal presentation on the Ides of Wither, but I also appreciate more alternative genres. You know..." He canted his head now in the other direction, "If I didn't have a sense of your Symphony, I would think you were putting on an act with all the adoring amatus dreck. Did you come by such abounding affection honestly, or do you think he employed that subtle form of Mesmer of which you're so fond to hook you?"

[Finn]

Within the confines of his station; that was what he needed to explore. The crown prince's beloved bard—that could change, though he knew it wouldn't. Favored of Aværys—that too could change, though the more he learned of the Deus, the less mercurial He seemed. In any case, he didn't want to make that common knowledge. There was no telling how that might play with the faithful. Arvælyn could raise him up to some actual legal status within the realm—that might affirm where he stood in the scheme of things, but it wasn't something he would ask for. Leader of the Leh'anafel—that might offer some status in a land that favored the magically endowed.

"Ah, I shall have to look for primers while I'm in the various archives," he said, taking a brief break from his luncheon. "One thing I forsook in not joinging the Circle of Lore... a classical education in magic. Scrivening will help me understand the... ah... structure of it all, I suppose." Magical contracts were just one way it could enhance his Mesmer. What it could do with his Traversion, he could only imagine.

Finn went back to his food as Vrædyn—literally—pontificated, but while the elf might tease his symphony, he didn't think he was, and he made interesting points, elaborating on customs with much greater clarity than most. He could even smile in self-deprecation at the prince's light mocking.

"Perhaps if we make a habit of social meetings, I will bring my lute or another instrument and share my gifts with you." His offer was utterly sincere, though perhaps his sincerity read as similar dreck to the jaded pontifex.

"Ah..." He looked thoughtful. "He found me busking on the street. We got to talking and he asked me to write some music for him to perform, and give him some vocal training. It wasn't until after we made our début on the stage together that he admitted to romantic interest and then, well, things progressed quite quickly. When we met, though, I didn't realize he had the Rune. He kept it hidden, only used it in dire circumstances. He was stronger than me, but he had no training. I noticed when he used it, and I tried to impart some of the lessons I had learned. We have, ah... used it... recreationally, but I don't think it created anything that wasn't there. It merely allowed us to share an intimacy... an empathy... We cemented our bond with a will and a pair of Runes. My feelings are sincere. If I am vocal about them, well, I want to assuage his fears."

He still thought Arry Venasyr had been a catch, and had he already been Phædryn Sol'Zalkyrion Arvælyn Princeps Draconum, they might never have met each other, let alone considered each other.

"If he has bewitched me, then I have reciprocated in kind."

[Pharaoh]

Vrædyn's faint smile seemed almost touched at the interest implied in regular rendezvous between the two of them. The social circle of a prince and paterfamilias was very broad, but the inner circle passing small. In terms of people who shared their particular mark, there was no circle at all, but a line that tied them twain. It felt important. Surely it was no coincidence that the Rex Regnum crashed their parley.

"I would like that." He replied, utterly earnest. He looked almost bashful. Was Finn's Emblem plying its work on Vrædyn? The moment passed and the pontifex chuckled at Finn's tale.

"I can't tell you how amusing I find it to know we have theatrefolk in the family now. Her Divine Radiance would be appalled, as if the pomp and circumstance of court wasn't it's own sort of stagecraft..." He trailed off, sitting back and regarding Finn appraisingly.

"Fascinating. I wonder what sort of creature might have found his way to Solunarium if His Exalted Highness had never met you... That might be an intriguing tangent for some theoretical Sembler to explore, for there is a softness to you that is rare in Solunarium. One which I believe is infused into your amatus, as well. I can't tell as much from his Symphony, but from what I hear of his endeavours in the Umbrium it may take a great deal of Mesmer to keep the Luxium populated..." A notion which seemed to amuse more than vex Vrædyn Princeps.

"I know you have no firsthand frame of reference, but suffice it to say these are very interesting times for Solunarium. A remarkable age in which to be alive..." He lifted his wine in some semblance of a casual toast, "You are already an agent of change in our realm... I daresay in the world." He had, after all, been present to recognise the familiarity between Finn and Arcas when they met at the Red Citadel.

"Is it enough for you to bring more music and mirth into the world, or do you have deeper designs for your Nova Leh'anafel?"

[Finn]

Finn's answering smile was warm and sincere, and eventually, he looked back down to his meal after they shared their moment.

"Hopefully I comport myself respectably for the most part... for an artist." He smiled again. "And aye, I have been accused of softness by most people who have gotten to know me here. Perhaps it isn't the worst possible trait if Deus Aværys thinks well enough of me to set me apart from everyone but you. Arvælyn is... changing. Becoming more like his people... the elven and the draconic. He says I'm his conscience, a counterbalance to where he is going, I suppose." No pressure at all, but Finn would do a lot for someone he loved.

Finn considered the question. He had no desire to dissemble, and the prince could tell if he was lying; he wanted to be clear and concise, though, for both their sakes.

"I believe that being so close to people in power will help me see where the Leh'anafel might prove effective as shepherds of public opinion," he ventured carefully. "The Queen has an army of Mesmers to do that, of course, but being... ah... extra-governmental, perhaps we will be trusted to be impartial at diplomatic events... bridges between nations to prevent unnecessary wars. I was born common. Common people often suffer for the political machinations of the nobility. I would prevent that if I could. No doubt the Leh'anafel would be tempted, but... I could require fealty of them, and then, at least, I could keep them in line." He laughed. "Then common Finn No-Name would have to worry about his succession."

If the idea seemed laughable, he was becoming aware that he might very well set up quite a bit of inherited wealth and power.

[Pharaoh]

"Oh, mistake me not! There's no particular stigma against artists per se. It is more about the distinction amongst the royalty betwixt employment and service. It is meet for a royal to serve. It isn't as though we don't have training in the arts, but we would disgrace ourselves to seek remuneration for performing such a craft. That His Exalted Highness was a paid member of a repertory company abroad is..." He shook his head, and stifled a chuckle even at framing it so explicitly in his mind.

"I'm sorry. It's just rather unprecedented in the modern age, but what are precedents anymore?" He shrugged blithely.

"Really?" Vrædyn seemed genuinely surprised to hear that the princeps draconum's lover found him to be going native in Solunarium. "I'll admit his career on the boards may have served him well in terms of the language and deportment, but I would say a great deal of the North yet lingers in him. Perhaps that is a testament to his... conscientious counterbalance." The pontifex offered with a wry smile and a deferential nod to Finn, who claimed to represent such.

"I admit, what you say of your goals seems to have endless potential for one such as me. If we do, indeed, make a habit of gathering as His chosen, perhaps we might coordinate our goals toward a common pursuit that serves not only Solunarium- but the world at large. Your minstrels might be my missionaries withal... and if we were to evangelise the world without, think how much suffering and chaos we my thwart... How many 'Common people' might be spared by the machinations we circumvented."

Vrædyn marked, but did not remark upon Finn's sudden musings on the prospect of founding a dynasty. Perhaps Arvælyn wasn't the only one going native.

"No-name? And here I thought you were Finn Farstrider. The which, ironically, sounds less common in Common than it does in Vastian. Regardless, my Brother in Majesty, you must take a Nomen if you wish to start a storied line. Otherwise your given name will become their surname, as with the House of Sol'Aværys. But you're a bard, and it seems a crime against your creativity to follow thus."

[Finn]

"I was never good at selling myself," he admitted. "When I joined the Academy, my art felt purer. There was no bottom line to toe. But... one must eat." He shrugged. Vrædyn's experience was different from his and he would never begrudge someone for making a living. He hadn't seen fit to seek remuneration for his art while in Solunarium, of course. His needs were provided for—first by Cithæra's House, then by Zalkyriax's House.

"Perhaps it doesn't seem a great change to Solunarian eyes, but to Kalzasern..." He shrugged again, not dismissive of the prince's thoughts, but having no complete answers to give him. Finn found himself finished with his meal and more eager to consume the high elf's thoughts.

"If we agree on a creed and a code, then I might be able to disseminate your teachings." Finn smiled. The theory was nice; the reality would be difficult to achieve, he was certain.

"And I've become passing fluent, though not enough to hazard a poetic nomen in Vastian. Longe-ambulator?" He laughed in self-deprecation and shook his head. "But perhaps I will acquire many names and let none of them be legal. Soon upon my arrival I watched a storied human familias fall to ruin: Nykara. I would fain give Her Majesty something she could take from me. Or anyone. I daresay I could claim name and kinship of Deus Aværys if I were bold enough... I may not have His divine blood in my veins, but I have His divine favor writ upon my brow. Forgive me. Perhaps that is blasphemy, though I mean no disrespect."

Finn had found himself relaxing around the pontifex, which he hoped wouldn't lead to a social faux pas, let alone a catastrophe.

[Finn]

Review

Experience: 15 xp, available for magic.

Lore: Finn — 14

Injuries: N/A

Loot: N/A

Note: So stereotypical to have such a gay scene in a bath house. Don't forget your moderator XP, Pharaoh! Thanks again!