Cintamani Pavilion
30 Searing 121
When a week passed without word from the young apprentice, Kala was not bothered. Deals could move slowly and the Leukos zaibatsu was playing a long game. When two weeks passed without word, Kala returned to the forge to speak directly with the master smith. She played the part of the younger child of a minor hatakomen well, free with her praise of Torin and Timon in the man's absence, eager to make a small deal for her family's small holding. If the man thought her out of her league, he was polite enough not to say anything. The deal was struck. A contract was signed. Her promissory note from the Bank of Kalzasi would finance the transaction for the nonce, the remainder to be paid upon completion.
While the smith read through the legal document, she caught Timon's eye and made a gesture reminding him to correct his grip on the dagger he was polishing. His eyes widened and he cast a furtive glance at his master before sharing a conspiratorial smile with her and correcting his grip.
Their business concluded, the smith bowed and she nodded a respectful acknowledgment. Artisans were not ill-treated in Kalzasi, but among her people, their skill was held in high esteem. There was no promise of future business and surely he thought her minor house was spending more than it could afford even now, though the deal negotiated was mutually beneficial. When she returned home, there was word from Torin, that he would come the following evening after his duties were performed. She sent a brief acknowledgment back.
The following day was spent at the Academy in one of her courses. Now that she had taken on more of the family's affairs, she had been obliged to curtail her academic activities but managed to keep up albeit at a slower pace than when she first arrived.
When Torin made his way into Adira's Promenade to find the Leukos family home, it was not so impressive as most of the surroundings. It was built upon terra firma, not terra flying for one. It was large enough, but looked more like small fortress than anything else. Upon ringing the bell, he was quickly welcomed inside and the inside of the structure was wildly unexpected. Perhaps it was their mountain culture — but any adornment the walls might have held outside were brought inside. There was warm light, a riot of colors from stained glass windows to mosaics upon the walls to tasteful furnishings. Perhaps to a smith's apprentice it screamed wealth, but to another denizen of the Promenade, it was more likely to impress in the cohesion of disparate elements, as if one eye had overseen the development of décor over the course of generations.
The sharp, spiced scent of incense was present but neither cloying nor overpowering. All the same, it was quickly replaced by the smells of nature when he was brought out through a loggia into the central gardens that seemed to be what the whole structure was guarding. In the lingering summer warmth, late-blooming flowers nodded in the breeze while trees put forth fruit. The fountains murmured to each other and birds and butterflies glutted themselves on the feast while the sun still shone. Though grand enough, it had the feel of an actual home. Finer mansions floated above them, and even the great houses of Cloudhaven were visible from here.
A table had been set for three in the shade, but it looked as though the actual refreshments were only just being brought out since his arrival. And on the flagstones, a strange sight: the twins wearing far less than they had in the forge that day, locked in combat. Kaus wings were mantled, his chest bare. His longsword and longer arms had a reach advantage on his sister, and his leaps lasted longer than they ought to due to his wings, but she was holding her own, using her lower center of gravity to her advantage, twisting so her daggers caught, deflected, or countered with lightning swiftness. On occasion, he would manage something with his blade that ought not to be possible, perhaps implying some magic at work. Her own magic was invisible, but its effects were quite clear when she seemed to punch at nothing and one of his wings caught a violent gust of air that threw him off balance, though only for a moment before he recovered. It was an improvised dance, though Kala was the one who looked like she might as well have been on the stage of the Golden Peacock, dancing like a stylized bird on the wing.
While Torin watched, the servant kept walking, approaching the pair but remaining at a safe distance.
"My lady," he said. "My lord."
As if by some silent, mutual agreement, the combat was just over. They bowed to each other, something old and a little off compared to what one saw in Kalzasi. Then they turned toward Torin. As they approached, Kala smiled, wider and more open than when they had been in the shop. Her curved, feather-shaped blades spun and disappeared into sheaths. Kaus swept his platinum hair back with a hand and smiled wider still, ever the more ebullient of the pair. Another servant brought him a sheath for his longsword, which he put away and leaned against the table.
"Welcome to our home, Master Torin," she said, Kaus adding his welcome in her wake.
