5 Frost 120
Necessity, they said, was the mother of invention. Well, Sivan hadn't invented anything since arriving in Kalzasi, but he had been motivated to get things done because he wasn't just on his own in terms of taking care of himself, but he was now, somehow, responsible for others as well. IX, at least, was stable. Having Sivan in the role of their former master was an anchor, though Sivan didn't really feel comfortable as any creature's master. And yet here they were. IX was stable, but the fae amnesiac was another matter entirely. Healthy now, but still frail, the danger of any repercussions from nearly freezing to death were gone. But no memory had really returned, only nightmarish visions and confusion. A curse, maybe. But that really wasn't Sivan's bailiwick. Perhaps he could find a teacher who could help him with that. He didn't really want to curse anyone, but curse-breaking would be useful.
But the merchant whose caravan they had rode in with had taken pity on him and introduced him to someone who spoke Rivach, who introduced him to someone who spoke Mythrasi, and Sivan had managed to secure a ramshackle cottage near the Plaza of Jeweled Arches. Its roof must have been emerald or peridot at some point, but there was little in the way of paint left and that was faded. Verdigris had spread its patina over brass fittings and blended into the remains of the paint. Sivan thought it was pretty in a ruined sort of way, but he was more concerned with the leaks in the roof and, well, IX had decided to 'rest' for a while, so was a useless lump in the corner with a chipped pot to catch leaks. Rust would be annoying to deal with, after all.
Sivan promised the fae that as soon as spring came, there could be plants. To be entirely honest, Sivan liked green things too. He was a shoe made for the city, but not being able to hear the buzz of nature spirits put him out of sorts as well. He was usually out of sorts in some way, but he did try to keep an even keel so as not to go ballistic as many of his mother's people were inclined to do. Thankfully, the fae napped a lot too, nearly hibernating, which gave him time to do things required for living. He didn't know why both fae and automaton were hibernating, but, well, he was dealing with it. The house was not yet a home, but it was shelter, and that was enough.
As soon as he was able, he cleaned up properly and presented himself.
Coming into Jacun's Alchemical Goods, he inhaled. There was a complex bouquet of things going on, mostly covered by lavender incense. It was neat and tidy for all the seeming bric-a-brac on display for sale. He could read the numbers, at least, and recognized a few words here and there. He steeled himself for trying to communicate in broken Common if need be. There was no better way to learn it, he supposed, than to be forced to, but he would like to make a good impression on Master Jacun if he was going to become his apprentice.
Sighting a dark head at a desk in the corner, he made his careful way over. Not clumsy, he didn't want his first impression to be that of a bull in a china shop.
"Master Jacun?" he asked gently, not wanting to startle him out of his work or, worse, annoy him. The honorific was a Hytori one. His master had claimed to be an old friend of Jacun, had bade him travel to Kalzasi to apprentice there when he knew that he was dying. Sivan even had a letter of introduction to hand over, though he had done the dead the honor of not breaking the seal to read it. He didn't know if it was written in Mythrasi. In any case, he started in Mythrasi, would switch to Rivach if that didn't work. And, as a last resort, he would use Common. He wished IX was more functional; he had always been an able and willing translator. Sivan just hated communicating in a language he didn't know. People always thought he was stupid.
"I am Sivan, and I have a letter for you."
