A Year and a Day

[Sivan]

60th of Searing, Year 123 of Steel
Aurin's Cottage

and I am a writer, writer of fictions
I am the heart that you call home.
and I've written pages upon pages
trying to rid you from my bones.

The place wasn't much to look at, but everything was finely crafted, spare, and spartan. That seemed appropriate given its owner, who was, as yet, not present. Rivin had let him in and Sivan had begun to prepare his things.

Preparing for this enchantment had required quite a bit of time given how much of Sivan's time was spent working, either at Kilvin's Forge or in his garden. But he hadn't dallied. He had made time to focus upon it, to ensure that he had the terms and consequences correct, that his enchantment was the most elegant solution. He had translated the desired contract between Aurin and Rivin into sigils and lines, a structure for various forms of aether to flow and merge and work together toward a magical whole. It was as complex in many ways as one of Torin's enchantments, and he supposed that, if it worked, it would be his masterwork.

Of course, he didn't say anything about it not working. Torin had looked over his schema and approved. It should work.

"Right, well," he hemmed and hawed, "I suppose we might as well begin. We don't need Aurin for the beginning, only for the ending. Are you warm enough? I need you to disrobe so I can draw the calligraphy upon your skin so we can see where the aether needs to go. I ah... I presume you aren't shy about being nude in front of Aurin? He didn't try to know things he wasn't supposed to, but he knew quite a bit that had shocked and worried him at first. Now it just occasionally made him bashful. He was still unused to being taken into people's confidence, their care.

"I will have Khal standing by to keep you comfortable in that regard. You aren't nervous, are you?"

[Rivin]

The cabin had seemed like the most appropriate place to have the contract, and the rune it promised, applied. It belonged entirely to the Magus, and, as such, was the logical choice. A Magus was at his strongest when in spaces that belonged to them, had absorbed their power over time and come to belong to them in a way unique to those who practiced the aetheric arts. Rivin himself had been careful not to make any major contracts or do anything else inside Sivan's tower that might cause the space to begin attaching itself to him. That space was owned by another, and while it was difficult to think of Sivan as a Magus in the same way he thought of Aurin as one, there was no denying that the elf had earned the space that belonged to him. It would have been repaying kindness with discourtesy to usurp any of it, even if he did not have his own space to claim yet. Rivin was yet no Magus, so, there was time to find where would be his.

Sivan had toiled diligently on the agreed upon contract, as both Aurin and Rivin had on working out the specifics for the elf to translate into Scrivening.

Though Rivin had wanted to wrap their compact in the language of the fantasy epics he had grown up reading it was, for all intents and purposes, a contract of apprenticeship. He was agreeing to work for Aurin while learning from him for a specified amount of time in exchange for being given the instruction and the tools (the Rune of Traversion) to accomplish his education.

To ensure the upholding of Aurin's side of the contract it would not fully take hold until they had applied the rune to the Lysanrin's soul. To ensure the upholding of Rivin's side the Scrivening that Sivan would write onto Rivin's body would enable the Traversion Rune to give Aurin the ability to know where he was at all times, to travel to him between their shared runes, or to compel to him come to wherever Aurin was. Once the contract was considered complete Aurin could sever the Scrivened additions to the Rune to remove these abilities.

There were other parts of the contract that included the few caveats to Aurin's control (That he never lock Rivin in a small space. That he never punish him with a closed fist. That he never force him to travel to Zaichaer or The Imperium against his will. That he never pass the contract to another.), as well as granting Aurin permission to discipline his pupil as he otherwise saw fit. In the extreme case that Rivin refused to obey to the point of the contract being considered broken, Aurin had the ability to 'turn off' Rivin's Traversion rune altogether until such time as he felt his apprentice had returned to obedience.

It had been surprisingly easy to come to their agreement, as they both seemed to want the same things from it. Rivin's explanations had sometimes been overly colorful, and other times overly academic, but once that was gotten over there had been no real disagreements about any of it. The magus and his soon-to-be apprentice might come from very different backgrounds in almost every way possible, but their minds seemed to spin to the same rhythm. This had only firmed Rivin's desire to enter into the apprenticeship legally. Such a contract as they were making was a legal document, and, though the reality of it would be Scrivened onto his form there were also three parchment copies of the details. One for himself, one for Aurin, and a third to be kept with the Guild of Coins in case there was ever a dispute. Sivan and Aurin separately had suggested these precautions and it spoke well of them both that they were trying to ensure he had what protections were available.

The Lysanrin could not read Scrivening, nor had he any runes that allowed him to suss out the magic inside the minor runes, but he had seen the practice version that Sivan had done in preparation and had been instantly drawn to it. The symbols of the script had looked foreign in a way that somehow looked fundamentally like magic to Rivin's eyes. If, as a child, he had been offered this he would have accepted instantly, without asking a single question as to what the words actually meant. He was an adult now, but it still had been a struggle not to ask Sivan to begin sooner than the elf felt ready.

He knew patience though, and far from wanted his friend to feel hurried, so he had offered thanks and appreciation, and waited. Now it was the day and he had not let himself be hurried either. The bath he had taken in the hot springs had had a ritual feel to it, even alone, and taken all due time and care with the meditation Sivan had suggested to properly prepare himself for the Scrivening and receiving the rune. When he had felt that he was ready he had made his way to the cottage. There hadn't been long to wait, thankfully, and now Sivan was there with him.

"I am." He nodded to the question, looking at the large fire Aurin must have laid (or had a servant lay) in the hearth. To the second question he shook his head, answering,

"I am not shy, for the Magus."

Pausing in the act of beginning to remove his clothing he moved closer to Sivan with the odd, graceful little skip-step that he did when he wasn't thinking about what other people might think of him. Reaching down he took the elf's hand in his and held it, a gesture more intimate for how comfortably casual it was.

"I am not nervous. Not at all. All will be well. You have put all your effort into this and you are an exceptional mage." He stayed until Sivan both met his eyes and implied in word or gesture that they were in accord. Then he quickly and efficiently removed his clothing without any art to it but that which came from what grace the gods had granted him. Once it was folded and put aside he stood, still and unabashed and asked,

"Where would be easiest for you? The table?" It was small but large enough to support him and a good height that if he lay upon it either Sivan or Aurin could work on his skin. The Scrivening and Rune were both going on his back, it had been discussed. His Summoning rune was between his shoulder blades, so high on his back that it just avoided being partly on his neck. The Traversion would go below it with the lesser runes flowing out to either side and below it.

[Sivan]

Sivan's answering smile was bashful, but he brought Rivin's hand up to kiss his knuckles gently. He nodded, released his hand, and then they were about their work. The elf did what he could to make Rivin comfortable on Aurin's table; the cottage was spartan, but everything was fine. It took him a moment to realize why the table, ostensibly for eating, was reinforced with metalwork, and had cleverly hidden carabiners attached at strategic points to the legs.

Sivan's hand was comfortable enough upon Rivin's flesh, steadying him as he made magical artwork upon his skin. Where the Rune of Traversion would lay, there was a blank rune—for now, it was silence, zero, and the infinite possibility of the void. Later, it would unlock the ability to travel via the slipspace, which Sivan understood theoretically, though it was not a rune he owned. The sigils and such that created his enchantment were not linear as was the written contract, but the concepts were arranged such that the correct flows of aether would seal it, and it would exist within the fabric of Rivin's soul until such time as it was completed. Even then, there might be echoes. Nothing truly ceased to exist in this world.

Despite his intuitive layout, he did murmur phrases that would have excited Rivin's sense of the fantastical. The poetry of the contract was translated into an elegant design. While the glyphs fanned out to some extent, the bulk of the enchantment followed the nubs of his spine. It was such a central, integral part of his body that it was the proper anchor point for an enchantment of this depth. Once Aurin completed it under Sivan's guidance, the ink would be superfluous, and it could be washed away. The enchantment would be more than skin deep, but would only flare into life when its conditions were met, threatened, or invoked.

This would be his masterwork, and perhaps, in time, he would learn how to take up less space with the same enchantment, but just now he tried not to remind himself that his arcane sigildry involved writing on Rivin's bare blue buttocks. He just hoped Aurin didn't intend to seal the deal with the sort of thing Torin craved from him...

[Rivin]

The brush of lips over his knuckles unexpectedly brought a purplish flush to the pale blue face, but it was not the time to consider the why behind his reaction.

Laying himself out on the table brought back memories that made Rivin more anxious and more comfortable at the same. The anxiety originated from the idea that, when he had been instructed to place himself thus in the past he had not known what was about to happen to him and thus, was quickly quieted by reminding himself of the plan the three had made together. The comfort was from simple familiarity, something he was used to doing in his youth. So little that he did now had any similarities to the first, and so far longest, part of his life and even something that should have been worrisome eased him a little.

Sivan touched Rivin while he drew careful curves and lines to either side of the Lysanrin's spine and it made a stark contrast between the sterile treatment of Ilex's experiments. Skin to skin contact had been verboten during any experiment or examination. If touch was required it was done with hands gloved in either fabric or the stretchy stitched material that was a product of animal slaughter. His friend touching him without hesitation soothed Rivin until he was able to relax with his head cradled in his arms, tail limp and still but for the occasional twitch when a brush tickled a nerve.

Breathing slowly he reentered the meditative state he had used to prepare himself to receive a new rune. Initiation would not be easy for him, he knew, due to the competing nature of his blood, but the Magus had explained something of his own experience and it sounded, if not safer, at least more straightforward in concept than the fever dream he had experienced when Summoning had been etched onto his soul.

'In concept' was key in that while the idea of learning to control the new way he could manipulate aether well enough to find his way back to the material plane was simple, the reality would be, he knew, less so. The complexity of learning quickly would be compounded by the fact that most people sent themselves home when they first returned, and Rivin had no real concept of it. The idea that he might appear back in one of his original dungeon homes had been discussed. They could hope for Sivan's basement, or simply to come back to Aurin's cottage, but while one was free to hope for the best outcomes, one must plan for the worst.

Aurin had consulted with his own mentor, from whom he had received Traversion, and it was intended that he should follow Rivin into the Aetherium to aid him in returning. If this could not be done he was to find a place of relative safety, put himself back into his meditative trance and attempt to explore his new rune carefully until he felt the pull of a familiar place to take himself back to. The Scrivened spell that would allow the Magus to locate his pupil should work regardless of what plane each of them was on, but that might be put to the test.

Once the drawing of the symbols had moved down to the lowest part of his back and Rivin felt perfectly calm he said,

"You are appreciated. For doing this. For many other things. You have been good to me without specific reason for doing so. You are good."

It wasn't saying goodbye, but it did feel pertinent to express his gratitude, just in case.

[Sivan]

The clever elf had incorporated circumstances into the spell that ought to provide Rivin with a sort of an anchor back to the material plane, as well as to compensate for his diluted Lysanrin blood. Sivan had known him for a while now, and sembled him more thoroughly than he would normally because of the danger he presented while so tightly bound to an infernal creature of some power. But then, he had layered plans for that into the enchantment as well. Those he would discuss with Rivin later, assuming they worked. While he had pored over grimoires to prepare for this, nothing had been a one-for-one spell. This was a creative endeavor as much as anything else.

When Rivin spoke, he paused. While he thought upon an answer, he began to stroke a patch of bare skin with the back of his finger, a soothing sort of thing.

"At first, Exael exhorted me to destroy you to destroy the demon within, and so... if I was kind, it was to contain that danger while also protecting you from it. If I could. And then you became my student. And then you became my friend. And now I do not know what I would do without you..." He laughed quietly. "To appear out of nowhere. To ask questions. To help me see the world from a new perspective. Now I am good to you because I care. Because I love you. And you should know that you are appreciated, as well."

Sivan paused, then continued with the body art that would be the foundation for a magical compact.

"And don't worry... Exael doesn't want to destroy you anymore."

Much.

"He doesn't understand humor very well still." Just then, he felt the aether shift, align, and he knew what was coming. "Your Magus approaches."

A few moments later, Torin's Bronze Fox stepped out of thin air to join them.

"Boys," he greeted with a rakish smile.

[Rivin]

Rivin listened, his body giving little indication of enjoyment at the small, more intention touch. A slight arch towards it, a little sound in his throat, the way his tail moved as though trying to make room for more. Sivan's eyes felt good on him in a different way to how Aurin's did. There was danger in the way Aurin looked, and ownership, and those were things Rivin needed to calm the panic he could not yet gain his own ownership of. Sivan looked at him like he was a lovely thing, worth looking at, worth touching. The combination of the two kept him on an even keel, the first enabling him to function and the second to grow toward a version of himself that might not need to feel like an object to function.

Love was not something he understood yet, he still sometimes wondered if he understood friendship, but he did understand how to be around Sivan. Both in himself and with his friend, the elf's presence set him so at his ease that, at times, he acted without thought. The reactions to these moments of oddity were varied but never bad, which meant there was no reason to attempt to control them.

"I will, perhaps, be appearing out of nowhere even more, after this." He joked, voice warm with affection and comfort despite a position and situation that would have caused most people stress.

"Your Aidolon is its own creature and may suggest what it pleases." This was not bravado but, rather, a strong belief in the right of every sentient creature to make choices for themselves. "But I would much prefer if you, and Exael, did not try to destroy me. Particularly at this moment."

Sivan could be writing literally anything onto his skin in the Spelled ink he had obtained from his Runesmith friend with Rivin's coin. Aurin might have objected if he had seen anything amiss with his Semblance, but that would only have occurred if Sivan had shown the Magus his true intent. Rivin might wake up in the morning with his soul bound in slavery to his elven friend. The thought was... less terrifying than it should have been. So much less so that a part of him poked its head up and sort of whined in a way that he was disturbed to realize might be desire.

He never wished to be a slave again, yet, he had accepted that putting himself in an obligatory relationship of with a teacher who would have the right to command him in many circumstances would help him adjust to his new reality. Wanting to be entirely free from the chains that were still wrapped tightly around his mind and being able to free himself were not the same thing.

"I also do not understand humor sometimes, perhaps Exael and I can form a bond over our mutual failure in this area." This, also was a joke, though he wasn't sure if it was one in good taste. It wasn't meant as any insult.

Aurin's voice cut through the quiet conversation between the two at, and on, the table, and sent a little shiver of anticipation down the Lysanrin's spine that he could only hope hadn't caused any of the Scrivening to be mislaid.

"Good evening, Magus." He answered, formally, while trying his best not to move any more than he already had.

[Sivan]

"You know you are always welcome in my home," Sivan said quietly, warmly. That included the building from the peak of its roof to the depths of its caverns, and the gardens. Laurevere didn't bother Rivin in his yard, either, though he was at best aloof. At worst, well, he was a Hytori noble, after all.

I profess: I would destroy the infernal, but preserve you.

"There, you see?"

Perhaps we could pore over a book on humor together at some point in the near future.

But the strange banter ceased when Aurin appeared. The man gave Sivan a friendly pat on the ass, which, of course, made him blush rose through the golden sheen of his skin. He patted Aurin's shoulder as the man began to look over his work. Sivan had explained things to the both of them together and separately, and so he didn't have many questions at this point.

"He looks good wearing only ink, doesn't he?" Aurin asked, caressing Rivin's inner thigh possessively while he tried to hold still. Sivan, still flushed, merely nodded. "Tell him he looks good wearing only ink."

"Rivin, you look good wearing only ink," Sivan grumbled, then glowered at Aurin. "Please focus, Aurin."

"Mmhmm," he agreed, the reprobate continuing to stroke his soon-to-be apprentice.

"Now, Rivin..." Sivan's hand fell to his friend's curls, hoping his touch would be more calming and less arousing than Aurin's. With his luck, however, it would backfire. Aurin had already offered to show them a bit of Zaichaeri sex magic, and Sivan had to wonder about him. For all that he took good care of Torin, it was all but impossible to read him, their sembling abilities on par with each other. "I need you to pull aether through your rune. You don't have to do anything with it, just open it so it can channel the first spark of aether through the compact."

[Rivin]

Rivin did not let his mind reach out to touch or in any way alert the Demon that lived alongside him in his body... sort of. They did not talk very often and their connection did not seem to be much like that of Sivan and Exael at all. Having the Demon push out and out to take over their shared body, at that moment, would have been excessively bad. Rivin had informed it that he was attempting to take a new rune and it had heartily approved of the idea, even promising to step in and aid him should the experience prove as close to deadly as his first had. The Demon wanted him to live, it had stepped in on more than one occasion when he had first escaped to stop him from making mistakes that would have left a trail by which Ilex could have tracked him. Rivin had been a babe in the woods as far as the outside world was concerned, and though he now knew much more, there were still gaps in his understanding wide enough to fall into if he wasn't careful. If he didn't have friends to aid and guide him.

He grinned when Exael made what he felt was a return attempt at humor. Perhaps it was not, but it pleased him either way. The Celestial had been, understandably, opposed to his presence its Aidolon's life since Rivin had appeared in it. That it might be mellowing enough to at least acknowledge him now was a comforting sign.

When Sivan obeyed the Magus' instruction and complimented him he reached out and wrapped his hand lightly around the one the elf wasn't using to mark him. Aurin's touch completed a sort of circuit in the Lysanrin's mind, they were all connected, or at least the other two were connected to him, as their magic would be, all three, connected to make the contract. The continued caress of the Magus as Sivan petted his hair had him relaxed and pleased enough that he was almost purring as he received the new instructions. Obedience came easily in that state, almost thoughtless but not quite, more like the way thoughts work in deep meditation, flowing easily without obstruction.

Opening himself to Summoning he used it like he had when he'd been a slave, letting it come awake without using it in any active way. Passively he became aware of the little spirits, mindless and barely conscious that filled a home. He didn't reach out to any, he just knew they were there, could feel them. Sivan and Aurin both were masters of the Semblance rune and would see what he was doing, so he simply lay still and did as he was instructed. Perhaps he would grow nervous once he felt the new rune begin to craft itself to his soul, but, for the moment, he felt no fear, no desire, just calm and safe, seen and wanted by the two people he trusted most.

[Sivan]

"Yes," he said in Rivach, the which he was casually attempting to teach Rivin. "Good. Like that."

The elf communed with Exael, and called to the eldritch Taberenai. His Spirit of Wisdom and the creature that defied logic went to work on his behalf. The celestial—an ara now by his estimation—whispered to the workings of the aether of deeper meanings, less effable patterns. The eldritch—a xiothur now by his inexpert reckoning—observed the tracks and tricks Sivan had laid out upon Rivin's skin. Perhaps it was amused more than curious. It was certainly interested in the aether flowing through Rivin's rune and overflowing into the careful channels Sivan had laid. It added an element of obscuring chaos that Sivan had hoped for.

"It's fucking art," Aurin murmured, his hand still comforting or titillating his soon-to-be apprentice. Perhaps he was attempting to soothe the mongrel, or perhaps he was attempting to compliment his boy's lover for his classical training and creative panache. "He painted you, and now you're setting his spell on fire with your magic." The redhead imagined Rivin could feel some of this, but Aurin could sense it on quite a more profound level through his sembling trick.

Meanwhile, Sivan communed with his aidolon, with the spirits, guiding the aether through his masterwork of scrivening. Rivin's participation with his rune allowed the spell to offer an attractive lure to the demon within. The enchantment secured a new rune for Rivin, for his demon, a new avenue for power and a mentor to help it flourish. It wasn't Aurin's most powerful rune, but Sivan could sense how new it was for all its might. The potential was there for Rivin to learn quickly, to expand the horizons of his magical travels by leaps and bounds.

"Everything is going well," he assured Rivin in a whisper, kneeling near his head, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"All right, all right, all right," Aurin interjected. "If you want to fuck him afterward, we can talk price. Friends and family discount for you, of course, Siv."

"So kind," Sivan replied drily. He stood. He brushed his hand over the blank space on Rivin's back where he had wanted the rune to go, where the enchantment had kept bare for the final anchor that would pull the aether through and mark Aurin's acceptance of his side of the bargain struck between them, between their souls. Torin might get angry, but Sivan wasn't about to let Rivin go into a contract that didn't have repercussions for Aurin too. "If you would inscribe the Cardinal Rune of Traversion there, you may begin the initiation, which will complete the contract."

He handed him the paintbrush crafted for fine calligraphy art.

Aurin laughed darkly.

[Rivin]

The language of his father's people wasn't harsh, but there was something textured about it, like leather. Sometimes it was smooth and sometimes rougher, but whatever the tone it sounded as though it had little ridges and whirls. Rivin loved it, had tried to pull it into himself whole. That was not how languages worked, but he had worked constantly at it, reading books and murmuring it to himself when it was alone, trying to get the roll of the tongue right, the back of the throat sounds deep enough. Hearing it now only increased his sense of well being, made him feel solid in his decision to take this dangerous step.

Less dangerous due to the exceptional skill of Sivan and Aurin, his Magi. The phrase made a peaked little smile curve onto his lips and the very tip of his tail twitch. He was living a storybook life, as he'd always wanted. Thankfully, the storybooks he'd grown up with were not children's tales, but dark and filled with danger, so he knew not to expect things to be easy.

In his state of observing only though Summoning he felt the movements of the two greater spirits than those small things flitting around the cottage. The Celestial was surely Exael, and while Rivin did not delve to discover who the eldritch presence was he imagined it was likely Taberenai, who was bound to Sivan. The elf was in control of it and all was well. What, exactly, either of the spirits had to do with the contract he did not know; lending their aether and abilities to his protection, perhaps.

He began to feel, or imagine that he was feeling, magic moving on his skin and inside it, trickling through the lines Sivan had drawn on him, connecting them, empowering them partly with the elf's magic, partly with that of the spirits, and partly with Rivin's own. It was warm and didn't tickle, the only disturbing aspect was that the closest comparable sensation would have been warm blood leaking from him and down his back.

He felt that he should answer when the redheaded Magus spoke to him but didn't want to say more than was needed lest it distract the other.

"I feel it." He confirmed, simply and very quietly. Slowly he moved his tail over to wrap lightly around Aurin's leg, much as his hand had been holding Sivan's. Completing the circle.

Unexpectedly he could suddenly feel the Demon within him. It wasn't trying to force its way out, it wasn't even pushing into his consciousness to speak to him as it sometimes did. It felt like it was just... there. Aware in a small way, vague and misty. Perhaps it was watching the proceedings in case it needed to step in and assist him in surviving. The presence made him very alert for a long moment but when nothing else seemed to happen he let himself settle back into his meditative calm.

When Sivan knelt to reassure him they smiled at each other and it felt like care, like family. He would have turned to kiss his mouth but Aurin's voice cut through the softness of the moment. A thrill of anticipation, part excitement part fear, ran through him and he had to remind himself to keep breathing slowly. The feeling was somehow enhanced and soothed when Sivan touched the bare place where his final mark would go.

He saw Sivan hand Aurin the brush from the corner of his vision and was confused, for a moment, as to why. When it came to him that, of course, Aurin would need to draw the rune, he felt a little stupid but he also shifted a little. The aborted wriggle of discomfort would have been seen by both men but he wasn't sure how to articulate what he was wanting.

The contract having been written in magical ink made perfect sense but the rune itself... It should be more personal. The Lysanrin wasn't sure what he'd been imagining Aurin would do, but it had been the sort of grand gesture that, of course, no one actually did in real life. Something like taking some of each of their blood, mixing them together and using it as ink, or drawing the rune with his finger rather than a brush or...

It was all silly, and he would have known that if he'd thought about it before, but he hadn't, and now it felt off. In a probably vain attempt to have this be known he let his thoughts and feelings be a little louder than normal. He wasn't trying to yell at those with Semblance to hear him, but he was thinking 'aloud' as it were.