The minstrel was quiet while Talon spoke, only nodding and making small noises of understanding when the Avialae prince made eye contact. His eyes saw less than Talon's, but he beheld the dragonshard, a bit more familiar with them since the Warrens. He wondered if someday his lute would be strung with pure spellthread, fretted and pegged with dragonshard, and his song an enchantment. Lyra had made him a grimoire, after all, to hold his songs and his stories. Despite the Rune writ under his hair, he didn't feel like some magus. He only wanted to be a bard. But he supposed if becoming Leh'anafel were more than a fairy story, he would have to become both.
Time would tell. He wasn't certain Lyra wasn't toying with him.
When Talon bade him don a pair of gloves, he quickly unslung sword and lute, leaning them in an out of the way corner far from any flames. He doffed his doublet too, and slung it over the pommel of his longsword. Working in a forge, he remembered, required a balance of wearing enough to protect from sparks and heat and wearing less so as not to overheat oneself. For a brief moment, he imagined Talon at the forge without clothes on, then quickly dismissed it.
He rolled up his sleeves and pulled the gloves on, flexing his fingers to get the warming leather to conform a bit to his hands. Carefully taking wood and arranging it in the furnace such that the exacting eye of his mother wouldn't find him wanting—she would have been quite upset if he shamed her before the Shinsei—he did his small part to support Talon's efforts here.
"Kalzasi does seem to have struck a balance between magical and mundane," he noted. "And it makes sense to me. "My mother taught me the forge because that was her craft. Thankfully, when she saw I was better suited for other things, she supported that. And she has two other children to perhaps follow in her footsteps. More depends on you, I know, and your choices. I don't imagine you will have a dearth of people wanting to work for you, but I suppose you have to make sure they have the skills and the goals you want, not just here to curry favor with the next Shokaze."
He realized it was quite probable that thought had crossed the prince's mind when Finn himself came calling. One could only prove oneself over time, though, with one's actions.
"Well, I'll try not to bow and scrape here and at your brother's place. Otherwise, I ought to show proper deference. Don't want to lose my head... figuratively or literally." He grinned. The forge was familiar ground, at least, even if it was partially heated by a magic rock.
Time would tell. He wasn't certain Lyra wasn't toying with him.
When Talon bade him don a pair of gloves, he quickly unslung sword and lute, leaning them in an out of the way corner far from any flames. He doffed his doublet too, and slung it over the pommel of his longsword. Working in a forge, he remembered, required a balance of wearing enough to protect from sparks and heat and wearing less so as not to overheat oneself. For a brief moment, he imagined Talon at the forge without clothes on, then quickly dismissed it.
He rolled up his sleeves and pulled the gloves on, flexing his fingers to get the warming leather to conform a bit to his hands. Carefully taking wood and arranging it in the furnace such that the exacting eye of his mother wouldn't find him wanting—she would have been quite upset if he shamed her before the Shinsei—he did his small part to support Talon's efforts here.
"Kalzasi does seem to have struck a balance between magical and mundane," he noted. "And it makes sense to me. "My mother taught me the forge because that was her craft. Thankfully, when she saw I was better suited for other things, she supported that. And she has two other children to perhaps follow in her footsteps. More depends on you, I know, and your choices. I don't imagine you will have a dearth of people wanting to work for you, but I suppose you have to make sure they have the skills and the goals you want, not just here to curry favor with the next Shokaze."
He realized it was quite probable that thought had crossed the prince's mind when Finn himself came calling. One could only prove oneself over time, though, with one's actions.
"Well, I'll try not to bow and scrape here and at your brother's place. Otherwise, I ought to show proper deference. Don't want to lose my head... figuratively or literally." He grinned. The forge was familiar ground, at least, even if it was partially heated by a magic rock.
