Summertime Sadness, Part II [Urs]

[Sivan]

39 Searing 121

Continued from Summertime Sadness.

Sivan smiled diffidently at cute and then looked around while Urs laid out the story. Thoughtfully, he went to fetch his guest water; the water sprite made sure it was pure and delicious as any mineral spring. He set the cup down before Urs and then, since there was no other chair, he leaned against the wall nearby.

"I hadn't thought what I would do with the cottage whenever I leave," he said. "I don't think of homes as permanent or temporary, though they have all been temporary. I'd release the sprites from my service or, I suppose, take them with me. And hopefully find someone with a... someone who likes plants to tend to the garden." He wasn't sure whether green thumb was an idiom that would translate into common. He also didn't know if a mundane gardener would be enough to keep the spirits happy, those who had made his little green space thrive in more ways than one.

"Well," he said, smiling shyly, "I hope it doesn't disappoint."

It certainly felt less crowded now that Flower was hibernating in the tree in the back yard, and at least IX was out of the way in its corner. When he did figure out how to fix the Awoken, it would move around a great deal more and that might make things difficult. Or perhaps IX would want a job of its own that would take it out of the house and then space would be less of an issue. With two incomes, they might afford a more spacious place, but now Sivan did feel somewhat attached to his little home. It was comfortable, at least for him. He was weary of wandering for the time being and was content to stay in Kalzasi for the foreseeable future.

[Urs Wardell]

Urs took the cup of water and drinks. The water was crisp and sweet. He couldn't remember water ever tasting so toothsome.

His eyes brightened, shifting from brown to a perfectly reflective silver. The whole of Sivan's cottage was caught in his gaze. Urs' magic spiraled out from within, a pulse of be-spelled netting that pulled and ripped at the world as it dragged back a catch of information. He could see the spots that Sivan favored; his aura was gossamer and gold and threads were scattered about the house like cat hair.

Magic, too, was prominent. He could feel the vibrancy of the Spirit and its residue in what remained of his water. There was some sort of thing under the thin blanket under the corner. It didn't spark or ripple like life or witchery but was instead the opposite - a void of sorts. Something to be filled with that alchemy Sivan studied, perhaps.

"Nothing here is disappointing," he said, smiling as he took another sip. He felt far soberer now than he'd been. It wouldn't have been unusual for a water spirit to have some sort of healing talent. Or maybe the lager hadn't been as potent as he'd thought. "It smells of magic and you."

Urs finished his glass and, experimentally, tested his legs and then his feet, kicking them up from where he was. "I feel clearer now," he says, "More myself than I was." Still, he stayed in the chair; more out of comfort than any fear of stumbling, but better to be safe than sorry.

"Houses aren't any more permanent than we are," he shrugs, "Stronger, though, or more resilient than us. We need shelter for a reason. It's a nice home you've made out of this one."

[Sivan]

Sivan's gaze followed Urs'. He, at least, was quite familiar with the intricate aetheric patterns that were IX under its sheet. He was going to have to carve out some time to work on artificing projects so help him figure out what was wrong with the Awoken. Perhaps when Torin had his new forge, he could design more clockwork parts for him and then teach him the basics of artificing. His friend seemed to have a curious mind, eager to learn. Perhaps teaching him the basics would hammer them into Sivan's own mind better, or at least shake something loose that he was missing.

To master a thing, his Master had once said, teach it.

A little quirk of his lips passed for an awkward smile. He couldn't tell if Urs was complimenting him and, if he was, to what purpose. People generally weren't so nice to him unless they wanted something. Flower had needed him. Destyn too in his way. Even Torin, his new friend, had been drawn to Sivan more because of what he knew than anything else. Sivan didn't mind that, but he didn't exactly understand it. And now Urs was the mystery of a person in his presence and while he kept familiarizing himself with the man's aura, he didn't know him. Not yet.

"Well, the sprites are always here and I sometimes bring work home with me, so it would smell of magic, I suppose." He ran his hand through his golden hair. "If you need some fresh air, we could always go out into the garden." Of course, his air elemental kept the air fresh and fragrant. The smell of summer flowers from the garden was always wafting in, even when the back door was closed. "And I know nothing lasts, but this place might surprise you. The little earth elemental's first job was plugging chinks in the masonry, then helping make the soil in the back more... ahh..." He didn't know the Common word for arable. "Better suited for planting. Now he is slowly strengthening the bones of this little building. Making the stone stronger, but also... able to withstand a little earthquake just in case one of those flying islands falls down, you know?"

[Urs Wardell]

Urs pushed himself up, standing. He held close to the table and the chair. He didn't feel like he had to balance now, but insurances weren't ever a bad thing.

"Do you only ever see with Semblance?"

Urs tapped his own nose, his smile twisting into something sharp. "It's not the air that I smell. It's you. It's your garden after all, isn't it?" He sniffs the air dramatically; he gave Sivan a teasing sort of look. It wasn't as easy to translate scent as it was sight but it wasn't impossible. And he'd been practicing. "You'd sit out there to sun or work or whatever it is you do, right? The house smells like you, the garden smells like you, you smell like magic..."

"Doesn't magic smell nice to you?" Urs smelled the warmth of a torch or campfire. The ripe, sharp scent of a still-beating heart. Magic was as much survival as water or air or shelter. It was life and he relished in it.

He spread his arms wide and made a show of balancing himself. "I'd heard so much about those islands, growing up." Mother hadn't left the Warrens, not that he remembered, so he hadn't either when she was alive. That hadn't stopped him from imagining the Upper City. He'd hoarded whatever descriptions he'd found, in text or overheard, and invented a Kalazi that was entirely his. Unmarked by man or the divine, a paradise fit especially for him.

"I'd expected there'd be more - and that they'd be bigger," he shrugs, still holding his arms apart. "Each and everyone a floating garden."

[Sivan]

At first he didn't understand the question, and it made him grateful that Master Jacun would go over complex ideas with him in Mythrasi to ensure he understood them better. But as Urs elaborated, the tension in his forehead relaxed and he nodded to the man.

"I understand your meaning now," he said. "I have learned to lay the rune over each of my senses. Sensing some things is easier with some senses than others. When I am in a deep trance, sometimes I can invoke it without any other sense and my mind doesn't try to translate it into something like sight or sound and I understand the thing more... fundamentally?"

He listened and Smelled Urs. Under the lager and the sweat, there was a wistfulness, perhaps a loneliness. Power, yes, but unfocused. Loss. Wonder. It was probably best that Sivan take him under his wing, so to speak. As Exael had noted, a potential power like his would be quite tempting to some infernal power.

"I have not seen them firsthand," he admitted. If he were religious, he might have gone up to the Temple, at least. But for clients in the Cloudhaven District and even the floating parts of Adira's Promenade, Master Jacun went himself rather than sending his apprentice. It didn't bother Sivan so much. A business was like a piece of clockwork, and every piece had its role to play.

"I wonder what one would have to do to create a floating island..." His mind wandered along those lines, knowing there was probably a way to contract sufficiently powerful spirits of earth and air to make it so, though he wondered what amount of aether or other form of payment they might require to maintain it. Dragonshards weren't difficult to come by with the Warrens right there, but still. He would have to do some research to find out exactly how they had 'naturally' occurred. And perhaps ask Master Jacun what manner of alchemy might work.

[Urs Wardell]

Urs teetered over the hardwood floor, his arms stretched out wide. Facing away from Sivan, he smiled; Urs recognized the scent of the elf's power as it probed the edges of his aura. It skimmed the surface, testing, probing, before diving farther. The witch delighted in the elf's attention.

"Seeing them breaks their legend a bit," he says, stumbling through a turn. "I'd imagined them as grandiose things of beauty. They were just floating rocks in the end," he shrugs. The Cloudhaven district was artificial. The gardens, the public ones anyway, were pruned of any wildness. The rest was locked up behind tall gates and armed guards. Things nobility hid behind. "Besides, you need to fly to get to the best parts, or so I've been told."

"That, or snag an invitation to one of the great houses," he said, making a face. Urs didn't have the highest regard for the ruling class of Kalzasi. The people that had visited Mother weren't the talkative sort but it was easy enough to bait them into a conversation by making a crude joke about one family's scion or trade.

The discussion of creating a floating rock was the better sort of thing to talk about, in his humble opinion.

"You could call up a Name. Or ask one of those fancy Elementalists. Or find some sort of ruined artifact down in the Warrens that makes pieces of earth way less than air. A god could do it but then you'd have to ask them. A dragon too, but same problems and you'd have to go looking for them wherever they might be hiding."

Lots of ways, he supposed. The trick was to find the one that was realistic. Well, achievable.

[Sivan]

The elf smiled, gratified that his would-be student had a sharp mind and was quick to find possible solutions to a problem, or at least likely avenues for exploration. That would bode well for their future working together—of course, that all depended on whether he ever saw Urs again once the man sobered up and had a chance to rethink things. Sivan knew it was best not to count on other people, even if they were to give their word. They might even mean it in the moment, but moments passed.

"My aidolon is a celestial... it offered wisdom when we bonded," he offered. "Perhaps it will help me find a way. Wouldn't that be nice, though...? To travel whither I wished to go with whoever wanted to come, safe on our floating island." It might sound like a flight of fancy, but that sort of thing had led him to puzzle out solutions to problems before, whether with clockwork or alchemy or other.

For the time being, he was stuck in Kalzasi. He had too much to learn from Master Jacun and possibly others, as well. He needed at least enough alchemy to experiment on his own without a master watching over his shoulder. He needed enough artificing to fix IX. He had to figure out how to break the curse on Flower, who slept in the garden outside, encased in a tree. But when he left, IX would follow him. Perhaps Flower would too if he never figured out where his people were. Destyn wanted a new tribe to replace his old, lost tribe.

Torin would stay, though. He was in love. He was soon to start his own forge. It would be like forging a chain to this place. But perhaps his floating island could be chained to Kalzasi so he could still see his friend. Having a friend was a new experience. He looked curiously at Urs, wondering if he would indeed become a student and, if so, whether he would be the type to follow as Sivan himself had done or whether he would forge his own, separate path, as Sivan had begun to do.

"And then we have to learn how to fly."

[Urs Wardell]

Urs grabbed Sivan's hands suddenly, his lips twisted impishly. "Of course! We can use Mother's book. It's a bit of a puzzle, but if anyone knew a way to fly, it was her."

Mother and her lies. Mother and her stories. Mother and her secrets. He'd written and re-written the fantasies she'd claimed to be histories until he'd realized what she was really giving him: lessons. Teachings all witches should know, hidden between the lines of fairy tales and legends. "There are all sorts of things we could discover there. Stories of shapeshifters and lost things. Recipes for wings and ways to convince the wind to lift us, I'm sure of it!"

All the better Sivan wasn't a part of that wizard's circle. Mother wouldn't have wanted him to share with anyone of that wretched tower.

"...but we could do so many things, once we learned how." There wasn't any point in stopping at something so simple as flight. "And we could do better than just a floating island," he says, excited by the possibilities. "Floating castles, floating gardens, lakes, rivers, mountains! We could make a city better than anything in the Northlands. We could make the best city in the world!"

There were all sorts of magic out there, all sorts of witches. Candle callers and tinkers, menders, and oracles. Urs could learn to make the dead into better things as Mother had, to keep the island safe. He could call on the Names she had to make the island fly.

And, if he did well enough at the hospital, he'd be able to leave with all of their medical knowledge. He'd know the things to plant and the different poultices required to cure any sort of problem. And surely, there were other resources in the city, to tap or steal. Things he could use to make a better world.

[Sivan]

Sivan looked down at his hands in Urs'. The man from the Middens was bold with physical affection, at least compared to Sivan's previous experiences with humans. He didn't mind, but it was outside his normal. He looked up and listened to the words pouring out of Urs' mouth. Perhaps all Sivan really needed to do in order to make friends was listen to people. It had worked so far in Kalzasi, which was strange.

"If you would trust me with your Mother's grimoire, I will try to help you work things out from it," he promised. He didn't have a grimoire, per se, but he had a collection of notes and drawings that he kept together. He just never seemed to have a thing pared down to its most perfect essence to the point where he would want it codified in a grimoire. Perhaps he was too much the perfectionist.

The elf smiled tentatively and gave Urs' hands a slight squeeze back.

"I look forward to exploring with you."

It was safe enough to daydream about such things, even if he had no idea how earnest Urs was about even an informal apprenticeship. Sivan wasn't set up quite as his own masters had been, but he did have the knowledge to share and perhaps even some wisdom associated with it.

For your age, Exael chimed in, you are wise. Your wisdom will grow with time and with effort and with me. It might have been a backhanded compliment from someone else, but the spirit communicated in a unique way and Exael bore him no malice or disdain. The celestial would not have offered to bond with him otherwise. There was a respect between them, but it was alien and new.

"It is strange for me to meet someone at a tavern and have it seem as though it were meant to be, but this does seem to have the potential to be mutually beneficial." It was offered carefully, almost more of a question than a statement.

[Urs Wardell]

It'd been such a long time since he'd been heard.

He'd imagined a whole different life for himself when he'd left the Warrens. He'd imagined the Upper City to be nothing less than shine and opportunity wrapped in a golden joy. For all of his life, he'd hoped for nothing more than the world outside of what he'd known. It'd been heartbreaking, to find Kalazi to be a disappointment. Or rather, it'd been sad to find himself such a disappointment in Kalazi.

Back home, in the Warrens, he'd been a witch. Here, he was little more than man. He wasn't qualified, he'd been told, to be much of anything else. Mother had trained him to heal, but the Tranquil Gardens didn't approve of the words he used or the medicines he'd learned. They'd made him an apprentice and tested him and would test him more until they scrubbed him of anything they found unbecoming. If he'd tried to learn from the Circle of Wizards, surely they'd think the same.

Only a wizard was a wizard, Mother said. A witch or a healer or a druid or a magician wasn't anything else but what they were, but the wizards had the tower and they guarded it so well.

Urs hadn't felt connected to anyone in such a long time. And yet, here he was, smiling. And there was Sivan, listening to him and offering help. Sivan, who'd helped him in the bar, who'd been so kind, even though Urs had only been a drunk stranger.

"I would like nothing more than to explore with you," suddenly very aware of Sivan's hands and how close the elf's face was to his. It'd been his own doing, but he was struck by how very handsome Sivan was; blond hair like a halo on his head. Eyes blue enough to be called the sea.

"...and I do think this could be mutually beneficial."

And then Urs leaned forward, closing his eyes. And then he kissed him.