Soul to Paper [Lyra]

[Finn]

"Oh," he said, startled. "I didn't intend to give offense. The work is beautiful, and I can only marvel at the magical properties as I don't know much about that. I don't have any particular problem with people practicing magic unless they wish to practice harm upon me, but that extends to people practicing harm without magic, so... Anyway, I am sure I will be ever more enthusiastic as I learn how to use it with my craft."

With a lop-sided smile, he listened to her own melody, hearing curiosity and perhaps a bit of concern, though he didn't know if he was reading that aright. But as an artist himself, he could understand the vulnerability when sharing one's work with someone, even when confident of one's skills. He did not read the curiosity he heard in her as another mesmer listening, but then he didn't really have a handle on that yet.

"I suppose a would-be bard should have more superlatives at the ready to assure people they are duly impressed, eh?" He paused, pleased by the unexpected nature of her work on his behalf, but also curious—always curious. "How would I properly convey my thanks to you in Vallenor?"

Picking up words and phrases might be a good start to familiarizing himself with the shape of those old words and help him learn how they worked, how one might bend them to one's will to communicate one's will. The few words he knew were beautiful and carried the whispers from ages past. It would be delightful to one day be able to hold a conversation with her in Vallenor or write new songs in the old language. He might even be invited to the capital of the Hytori to sing for their princes. Wouldn't that be an adventure?

[Lyra]

Lyra sighed, "That is well. The craft is only so fine as its usefulness to the one it is intended."

It shouldn't have bothered her, but the thought of having made something that not only wasn't needed but was undesired was somehow... offputting for Lyra in a way she could not quite place. Was that what one called pride? Perhaps. If so then it was a feeling Lyra had not felt in many many years.

At Finn's request, Lyra blinked, a surprise coming through her melodies, but she did not look displeased. She grew thoughtful, once again tapping her finger in thought.

"I suppose..." she looked Finn up and down and then smiled, "The Leh'anafel, when they would share bread together, would always say 'Ses'mina fey lim'. 'We give thanks'."

Nodding at the book, Lyra continued, "In this case, you might say 'Seh'mina fey lim, Em'fera'. In common that would be 'I give thanks to you, Miss'. Or something similar."

Lyra shrugged, "In any case, thanks are not required. For what you plan you require, as you have said, something which shall impress and indicate your dedication to the art. Now then..." she leaned forward once more, a smirk quirking her lips.

"Tell me, how do you plan to pay for this?"

"Lady of Whispers"

[Finn]

"Ses'mina fey lim," he said carefully, tasting the words, conforming his mouth to the shape they required. "Ses'mina fey lim, Em'fera." Pleased with the new words as much as with the grimoire, for he was a simpler creature than she was, he smiled, delight chiming through his own music. Had he known they were both surreptitiously listening to more than just the words each other was saying, he might have had a revelation. He might have wondered whether the Leh'anafel had been so open with each other, communing mystically when they spoke to each other, or whether they had been more secretive than that, even with their brethren. Perhaps one day he would know and have this insight. Certainly, the idea of becoming Leh'anafel, of rebuilding such an august company, had struck a romantic chord within him since she first brought them up.

He imagined singing dauntless courage into Avialae hearts as they clashed with enemies of the people.

He imagined singing calm and kindness into the hearts of diplomats so they could forge peace before weapons.

He imagined singing and whatever genius was within him being carried forth with magical amplification to make the world a better place.

If he took pride in these imaginary timelines, it was not, as yet, overweening.

"Then please accept my thanks for the little language lessons, for helping me make a difference in the Warrens instead of just standing there looking idiotic. As for payment," he paused, a note of doubt discordant with his previous theme, "I have gold. I wonder now whether it is enough for what you have wrought." His blood hadn't been payment, at least insofar as she had intimated the last time he was here, just a reagent for whatever magic she poured into the grimoire. He had thought she said payment would be golden, but his normally keen memory questioned that now. Ale'Ephirum was a little cave of wonders, and it felt like another world from the one outside.

[Lyra]

Were Lyra a different person, or perhaps a kinder person, perhaps she would have felt abashed. It was a habit for her now to twist and bend words, curving the minds and hearts with each twist of the verbal wheels. It was so ingrained, in fact, that Lyra found herself slipping into the position of one who was owed, who held power over another, and she had acted on it without thinking. This momentary bout of self-reflection made the smirk slip, and she sighed, rubbing her temples.

"The price is one paid in gold, as we discussed." Lyra said finally, looking and smiling a more human smile, "As you say though, the original I had in mind was not quite so..." She waved at the items, "Much. Items such as this would go for anywhere between 600 and 1000 gold."

At these words Lyra did, for just the briefest of flashes, look embarrassed. The emotion was quickly masked as Lyra tapped the table, "Be that said, there are things that I can accept as payment as well. As for today let us say... 250 gold. That would pay for the base materials at least, if not for the skill in craftsmanship. In exchange would you care to work here, part-time, as your story to House Zatrian would imply?"

Lyra waved down the hallway of shelves, "There is much to be done, I have found, in keeping up this shop. If you would stop in from time to time, run a few errands, pick up supplies and deliver messages I would be satisfied. This arrangement can be one which lasts up until the point of the completion of your education, at which point I would release you from your services."

She eyed Finn with a measured gaze, "Would this be acceptable to you?"

[Finn]

The thought of 600 gold made his blood run cold; 1000 made him want to vomit. He couldn't recall ever having that much coin at one time. Even his tuition had been handled by competent people at the Bank and the Academy, though a copy of the receipt had been given to him, and it had taken all his skill at performance to perform a normal human person in that instance and not let his eyes bug out. 250, though, was a large number for him, but one he could handle, and was prepared to pay. As she went on, he relaxed incrementally, moment by moment.

She wasn't asking a lot, all things told. There was no demand for a certain amount of hours at a certain time, the which could impinge upon his ability to attend classes, rehearsals, concerts, and his normal working hours, which were required to keep his room at the Crown and Lion. The beneficence of House Zatrian only went so far. At least for him.

"That," he said, voice schooled to steadiness, "I can do." His hands weren't shaking too much when he fingered open a belt pouch and pulled out several pieces of fine paper and set five of them on her desk. They were notes from the Bank for fifty gold each, which made them as good as gold within the city walls, and less obvious to cutpurses and pickpockets than would be a huge sack of jangling coin.

"I might as well start now if you have anything for me to do," he continued, not wanting her to have second thoughts before the light yoke of service was rescinded. "I mean, I'm already here, after all."

And, in any case, he intended to make the occasional visit to report any ancient stories he had dug up in the archives—translations, at least, until he was fluent in the ancient elven tongue. The thought of learning so much was exciting, and he was glad the grimoire wasn't going to beggar him.

"Just don't ask me to do anything too unlawful," he added with a grin.

[Lyra]

Lyra read the flood of emotions as they passed over Finn's face, as well as traveled through his symphony. She kept her own expression impassive but smiled as Finn accepted. She took the papers handed to her, scanning them briefly before using a small key from her pocket to unlock a small drawer of her desk, sliding the paper inside and locking it once more.

"Then let us call our contract sealed." At Finn's next words Lyra raised an eyebrow, picking up her pen and pulling over another stack of papers.

"I have done nothing unlawful since I arrived in Kalzasi." Lyra said with a shake of her head, "Know I not why it is others believe I have." She paused then, thinking a moment before fetching another key from her left pocket. This one was larger, copper and carved with several runes. She handed this to Finn, "If you wish to be of use now, there are several stacks of parchment that need organizing and put on the shelves. You will find them in the workshop that this key unlocks."

Looking up Lyra added, "There is nothing overly dangerous in there, but keep you away from the dragonshard investiture stations, and be mindful of the shelf of inks. Several of those vials are worth more than the Grimore you now possess." She grinned, "Mind you do not knock anything over"

[Finn]

Finn nodded. He didn't gulp, though Lyra was an intimidating person and he hoped he was making a wise decision. Even with his hidden rune, he didn't consider himself schooled in magic, and she was clearly powerful and other, dangerous in a way that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up whether she engaged in unlawful activities or not.

He accepted the copper key, looked over the runes that meant nothing to him, and bit back the torrent of curious questions that arose. There was no need to try her patience and it seemed he would be spending time in her shop more regularly, so he would surely learn things over that time. He just nodded again. He didn't know what a dragonshard investiture station was or what it looked like, but he could avoid the expensive magical inks, and it ought to be easy enough to focus all of his attentions on the places where there were papers to be shuffled about. And while he was no dancer, he wasn't a bull in a porcelain shop either. Anyway, the delicate things in here might be dangerous as well as expensive so he was galvanized to be careful.

"I will be careful," he promised, and turned to go, careful even of the less dangerous spaces in the front of her shop. His nostrils flared, taking in the comforting scent of vellum and parchment, ink and leather, and something he couldn't articulate that might have been magic. Certainly, it was something he would get used to working for Lyra.

It wasn't his first time in her shop, nor would it be his last. He found where he remembered a door being and luck was on his side. His first attempt was a success. The door unlocked and he crossed the threshold. It was exhilarating, and he was only going to be doing paperwork.

[Paragon]

R E W A R D S

Name: Lyra
XP: 8. Cannot be used for magic.
Requested Lore:

Business: Completing a Commission
Business: Accepting alternate forms of payment
Business: Labor is more valuable than coin
Business: Leveraging information to avoid future issues
Business: Hiring a part-timer
Persuasion: Lies are best told with truths
Negotiation: Noticing uncertainty
Negotiation: Start high, negotiate down
Negotiation: Accepting a verbal agreement
Teaching: Using simple language to explain complex topics
Teaching: Defining words of Ancient Vallenor

Name: Finn
XP: 8. Can be used for Mesmer.
Requested Lore:

Acting: Gravitas
Acting: Pretending You Are Used to Having Money
Mesmer: Learning Someone Over Time
Mesmer: Reading Magic on an Object
Mesmer: Analyzing What Runes Someone Has
Mesmer: Use of a Grimoire
Composition: Turning Adventures Into Songs
Composition: Keep the Original Copy
Politics: Listening to What Isn't Said
Politics: When to Keep a Secret
Politics: Making a Deal
Persuasion: Pacing
Etiquette: Appreciating the Art of Another
Linguistics: Basic Vallenor Vocabulary

Note(s): +1 Grimoire for Finn

Ha, everyone thinks Lyra is sus. I love it.