A Clockwork Heart [Torin]

[Sivan]

20 Searing 121

Sometimes Sivan got so used to the strange smells wafting about Master Jacun's shop and workshop that it wasn't until he was in the open air again that his senses cleared enough to register new things. There was the smell of hot sunlight on the paving stones. There was something sizzling on a grill nearby that made his stomach growl. There was the dust that meant it had been too long since there was rain. And there were myriad sounds that were more pleasing than drips and hisses and all the various things he had trained his leaf-shaped ears to count as alarums lest some delicate work be wasted for lack of attention.

But it was the end of the day and Master Jacun had told him he could do as he wished once he made the delivery to the runeforge, which worked out quite nicely for him. Glade had been quite busy in the alchemist's shop as well as at the forge, and so he had seen Torin a few times, but not nearly so often as either of them had planned. True to his word, he had kept several sheets of paper filled with plans for various simple clockwork projects. Whenever he saw Torin, he handed one over. Whenever Torin dropped by, Sivan quickly showed him a few ways to assemble the various pieces into something that worked. Worked was a a relative term. Turning a handle would make one toothed wheel turn another or similar. But Torin always seemed pleased to see the pieces he made come together like a puzzle. Sivan would roll his eyes and commiserate: "Practice makes perfect." And they would laugh.

His Common was better now. He still had a deplorable accent and would put emphasis on the wrong syllables or mess up the cadence of his words. Sometimes it sounded like he was trying to sing Common. Other times, it was just discordant and off. But while he had a strange way of saying things, he had gotten better at using words correctly and making his thoughts known. Of course, he was always patient with Torin's usage of Mythrasi, willing to correct pronunciation and add a few words to his vocabulary. It was nice that he cared to do so. Most people could get by with nothing more than Common, but it was a wide world out there and Kalzasi wasn't even its center.

"Good day, Timon," he said to the bored boy out front. "Regular things. I will take them in the back for you. Want to say hello to Torin."

"OK, Thiv," he said with a gap-toothed grin. The elf could do no wrong after bringing him a simple clockwork soldier, and even more so after he had shown him how to oil its gears and keep it clean so the exposed mechanism kept working.

"Oh, here." He pulled a little green candy wrapped in wax paper out of his pocket and handed it to the boy. "Tastes like sour apple. Will make your tongue and lips green for almost an hour. Can make funny faces then." He stuck his tongue out and went cross-eyed for a second.

"Thank you!" he crowed, already shoving it into his mouth.

Sivan didn't enter the forge proper, but he set the box down on a table where he would be seen when Torin emerged from the forge. It was close to where they stored several of the things in the box from what he understood, so it ought to be convenient. Knowing Torin got quite into his work, much as Sivan did. It was the end of the day. Perhaps Torin would come to share a meal with him, and perhaps he would want to see his home. If not, Sivan could just go. No harm, no foul.

It is wise to make friends, said the voice inside his head.

"I don't know if he thinks of me as a friend," Sivan muttered for the benefit of his aidolon. It could hear his thoughts, but he had trouble sometimes ordering his thoughts properly for an internal communication.

[Torin Kilvin]

The busy season was over, at least, for now. The latter half of Searing would see a load of work for harvest equipment, of course. For now, though Torin was able to work at a more leisurely pace for the first time in months. He was actually spending the later afternoon working on a set of tiny gears that Sivan had given him plans for early in Glade. He didn't feel guilty over it, the other apprentice understood how things could be and had expressed his own over-worked status of late.

He was sitting on the crate he used as a chair using a long file to delicately clean shavings off a piece he had taken out of a clay mold to cool an hour before. There was a certain level of contentment working on clockwork devices gave him, like a slow burn. He finished the piece, the last one of the set, and looked up toward the storerooms that backed the shop front. Timon had a tendency to get bored and start poking into the supplies, their master had shouted at him for it before, even cuffed him hard once. Torin had tensed his entire muscular form to stop himself from launching at the man for it but the boy hadn't been hurt and Torin's was an overreaction, he knew.

It was not Timon that he saw loitering in the storeroom though, too tall. Shading his eyes he recognized the man who awaited him and grinned. Launching himself up he put the last finished piece in the little box he kept for the purpose and bounded across the yard.

"Hello, Sivan." He tried to intone calmly though his excitement was obvious. If anything he had grown larger since the Frost season in which they had met, the last of any baby fat leeched away by his height and a harder season at the forge than he'd known before coming to the city. He hadn't bothered to pull a shirt on that morning, knowing that between Searing's growing heat and his work with clay molds and molten copper he wouldn't want it. His breeches and boots were new though, he looked more... intentional than he had when they'd met.

"I would have come to pick those up this evening, but you've beaten me to it." He nodded to the box of alchemical ingredients. A crease of worry clouded his expression for a moment, "I hope this doesn't mean we can't work on the new clockwork?" He held out the wooden box in his hands to imply what he meant, Sivan would be used to the sight of it. Realizing he sounded selfish he added,

"I hope all is well with you." He made it a statement but added the Rivach gesture for a question. He enjoyed learning the gestures, they came easily to him and gave him something to do with his hands even if most people didn't understand them.

"Timon!" He called through the shop, "Go ahead and lock up, evening meal will be ready soon." There was a little yip of joy from within, oddly muffled as though the lad had something in his mouth and then the sounds of scrambling around that meant he was doing the little chores that were his duty at closing time. The older apprentice began to move around putting the bottles and powders away in their places while he listened to his friend.

[Sivan]

Exael fell quiet when Torin appeared. It liked to observe, which suited Sivan just fine. When it interrupted whatever he was doing with a conversation, it could be startling and he couldn't concentrate on an internal conversation and something else yet. Perhaps with time, he would be able to but now was not that time. He was certain Exael would want to know a great many things as soon as Sivan was getting ready to sleep or ask for clarification on any number of things that pertained to being embodied on this plane of existence. After forging their deal and then merging long enough to ensorcell Flower, it had some access to his memories and surface thoughts, which was still disconcerting. Their relationship was new and definitely a work in progress.

"Good evening, Torin," he replied in Mythrasi since it was only fair to help him with his language acquisition as he had helped Sivan. Even though they hadn't spent all that much time together, having one person be patient with him had helped his mindset immeasurably. And because he was relaxed around him, his Mythrasi was peppered with gestures from the Rivach. "All is well, but my honored master allowed me to finish early if I made this delivery and it allowed me to see you and request to share the evening meal."

Realizing that was a fair amount of Mythrasi, he gave Torin a moment to absorb before summarizing in Common. "It was an excuse to leave early and to see you. Would you like to have supper with me? If yes, you could come to my house, also, to put that together, and I can show you a marvel of clockwork, as well."

He might have been laying things on thick, but his last guest had been Arvalyn, who must have been put off by Flower and IX. And, of course, he had a hard time believing someone would enjoy his mere company without something to catch their legitimate interests.

[Torin Kilvin]

The familiar Mythrasi accent settled musical and easy in Torin's ears. It wasn't that he disliked his native tongue, but Common was like forging and Mythrasi was a song.

He listened carefully while Sivan spoke, then repeated allowed and share. They went back and forth working around the words until he understood their meaning. They had worked their way around enough words this way that it was becoming easier to understand what direction Sivan's mind went when he did so. It was an interesting thing to know about someone, how they thought instead of simply what they were thinking. It made Torin examine his own thought process, how attached to language it was. He hoped someday to be able to think in Mythrasi, perhaps to dream.

"I would happy to share evening meal, you." He knew he was missing some of the connecting words but he also knew that speaking aloud was important, so he tried. Sometimes it even made Sivan smile when he said something funny accidentally, though explaining why it had been funny was very hit or miss.

"I would like to see your home, so long as you won't be offended if I forget everything to inspect your marvel?" The supplies were all put away now and Timon had gone skipping towards the kitchen. "Let me wash up quickly and put a shirt on. Would you like to look around the forge? It's only fair, I've seen where you work."

Leading the way he walked the elf through his work area, briefly explaining what each thing did using mostly Mythrasi. The words for his work he had learned as a child so it was the topic he conversed in easiest. After the tour, he brought Sivan back to his small room to strip out of his sweat-soaked breeches and small clothes without shame for his nudity. Washing quickly with soap and basin he spoke of how he'd made the new molds for the gears, refining the process each time he'd done so.

"How was your week? Any let-up?" Pulling on clean clothes and running a hand through his wet hair, he threw his new summer coat on and smiled reassuringly.

"Where get food should we?" There were many good taverns and inns on the surrounding streets. The larger boy had explored most of them and was confident in his ability to make recommendations.

[Sivan]

Sivan nodded amenably, then was surprised when Torin elected to show him around personally after he assumed he would just carefully look without touching while his friend cleaned up. But perhaps it was wisest after all; his master might show up and get upset at someone else's apprentice in his forge. He asked a few questions about the forge and some of the equipment that seemed pertinent to him; though he didn't have the strength to be a smith, nor truly the desire to pick up that set of skills, he understood a great deal of the process from what he was learning about alchemy and what he knew when it came to artificing. A couple of times, Torin seemed surprised or impressed, but that might just have been his imagination.

Though he was a bit surprised to be taken back to his room, it was more that he had never seen Torin in any context but deliveries back and forth from their places of business. But then, he had invited him to visit his home. This was just a reciprocation. Sivan wasn't shy about bodies and neither averted his eyes nor stared. He admired Torin's body in passing because it was clearly well suited for his work, but prurience wasn't at the forefront of his mind. While Flower's need to cuddle had not been terrible during the freezing months, it had become a bit uncomfortable as the weather warmed up. That was no longer a problem, at least.

The elf kept up the conversation all the while, more confident in his Common when he was speaking to Torin, and offering bits of Mythrasi or Rivach from time to time when it seemed appropriate.

"It has been... strange," he admitted. But they were out the door and so he considered where they would get their meal. "There are a few places sometimes I stop on my way home. Any of them you will not be sorry, I think. If eating. If we eat. There." Sometimes his ease with Torin meant he actually spoke faster than he ought to, and then mistakes cropped up again. But Torin never made him feel bad about it, so he went with it. "I think we must eat first or you will forget when you see my surprise and I cannot carry you home if you are sleeping from starving." He laughed shortly, which happened when he was around Torin. He thought his old master would have liked him, perhaps even teaching Torin artificing since he could make quite a few of the pieces himself.

"Strange week," he continued once they were on the street. "You will see little spirits at house of mine. Elements. They help with house things. But now... Do you know about summoning? I have aidolon. Bond-spirit. Very smart. Very wise. Celestial." His hand rose, making a gesture. "Celestial," he repeated in Rivach, repeating the gesture as well. "Like stars. Light. Opposite of demons. Very helpful, but very new. Always in my head. Strange."

[Torin Kilvin]

It was nice that Sivan knew some of his way around the forge. The elf had enough knowledge that Torin wouldn't worry turning his back if he was working with hot metal. Perhaps in the not too distant future, Torin could invite him into his own forge and they could work together on their projects. The thought was a nice one as they walked out of the side gate to the shop and down the streets filled with evening bustle.

The current of the city was always there but it had a different feel at different times of the day. The morning felt like a rush to get out, to places, to shop, to work on time, to breakfast. The afternoon was a lot of movement that didn't really go anywhere, shop keepers, hawkers, and tavern owners moving in their circles, buying and selling within a certain radius. Evening was a leaving sort of energy, everyone on their way home but not as hurried or energetically as they had been to arrive in the morning.

The large apprentice stretched up to, and a bit beyond, his full height, arms coming up over his head as he stretched the workday out of his muscles. He listened to Sivan and answered him, both of them in a mixture of their native languages. He was growing used to the way they spoke together enough that his mind easily translated Sivan's mistakes without really hearing them. He understood, he learned, it was good.

"You pick food." He decided he was done making choices for the day, I pay, you host, is fair?

Torin now had an amount of money to his name that his younger self would have found difficult to imagine. He was struggling in the place between mental poverty where he was afraid to spend anything and mental prosperity where he allowed himself to buy things he needed without worrying. Fear of slipping into mental wealth, where he spent constantly without thinking kept him between the two, but he was trying to develop healthy habits. Buying a meal for a friend felt like a very healthy habit based on how Aurin had reacted to the times Torin had fed him.

He laughed at the idea of himself becoming so engrossed in a clockwork device that he passed out from hunger, more so because it was not far from the truth.
"I'll eat plenty, I promise." He put one hand over his heart and made the Rivach gesture for Deep Sincerity with the other.

Sivan led him to a tavern he had been into before a time or two and which did have quite good dinners. His stomach attested to his memory as soon as he crossed the threshold, grumbling loudly. The owner, a middle-aged woman who was still pretty enough to give proof of her tales that she had once graced the boards of playhouses greeted him with a laugh.

"Hungry boys are always welcome, if they've the coin for it!" She teased and gestured for them to sit where they chose. Torin nodded to the bar with a brow raised in question. They wouldn't need a table if they didn't linger beyond their meal. "Is this alright?"

Once they were seated he ordered a cold ale from the cellar and a double portion of whatever the meal was for the evening.

His shock at hearing that Sivan had an aidolon filtered through him slowly. He hadn't reacted to it right away, as was his way. When the woman moved away to fill their orders he turned to his friend.

"I don't know much about Summoning but... I can't imagine sharing my mind with someone. Is it..." He struggled to find a way to ask his questions, the idea of sharing himself with someone so completely was at once terrifying and comforting. Being known so wholly, by a being with his good in mind felt safer than being in charge of himself. He knew the concept of wanting someone else to be in control of him wasn't one shared by most other men. An aidolon wouldn't be in control, exactly, not as far as he knew.

"Is it nice?" He smiled at himself ruefully to show that he felt it was a silly question. Clarifying he tried, "Is it what you want?"

[Sivan]

Sivan smiled blandly at the woman, content to let Torin field her conversation. The woman knew his face and that he had difficulty with the language still, and didn't take offense to him lapsing into silence. Over the meal, which he allowed Torin to purchase, he tried to explaini the new relationship he had with the celestial spirit.

"It lives in me for now," he explained. "It grows accustomed to this plane. Soon, it will separate, I think. We will be able to join. We will grow stronger together, but it is slow to warm up to this world. Like I am slow to warm up to people." He made a self-deprecating face and a subtle movement of his shoulder that invited humor directed at him. "I am still Sivan. It is still Exael. But we can... become a... concrete." He frowned. It was an alchemical term. "A compound body. It is..." He searched for the word. "Taxing."

After a few thoughtful bites of food where Torin seemed to realize that he needed a little silence to order his thoughts, he continued, "Exael is strange. Not elven. Not human. A... archetype? Of wisdom. Sometimes it is like a book that reads itself to me. Not quite a person, but learning to be a person because of me?" He made a face. "I am a bad teacher at learning to be a person. Sometimes distracting. Sometimes good company. I think it will be happy partnership for us." Of course, he knew that bonds didn't imply cooperation. Some summoners ran afoul of their own aidolons and that was to be avoided, but he had put it off for a long time because he wanted to get it right.

When that part of the discussion seemed complete for the time being, they up and left. Conversation was easy enough. Then he unlocked the door to a green-roofed little cottage and waved Torin in. Quite a lot of little houses were similar to this. Sivan's home was relatively neat, though oddments gathered wherever there was space on shelving, furniture, and the like—little crystals, strange bric-a-brac that might have had magical or sentimental value. It was one-room affair, though. A corner taken up by something covered in an extra sheet. His bed was hastily made. There was, oddly, no dust.

Upon entering the little building, everything felt instantly comfortable. The air was fresher than outdoors, somehow. The temperature and humidity, for lack of a better word, perfect. Sivan wouldn't know whether it was noticed or not, but he cupped his hands and his little house sprites appeared as little flickers of light: red, blue, gold, and green.

"Welcome to my home and hearth, my friend," he said in lyrical Mythrasi. "These are my little friends: Khal, Zin, Nut, and Geb. Little elementals who help me keep my house up. They are curious, but simple. They will not harm you. If they do anything, it will be some attempt to help you or make you easy here."

His long, slender fingers straightened a bit and the little lights danced. They were looking at Torin, though they didn't have eyes. They too had developed a bit through their contracts with Sivan, having more personality and cognitive ability now, though they were an order of magnitude below Exael even still.

[Torin Kilvin]

Torin let Sivan speak, let him know he was being listened to. At first, the way he was describing the joining made it sound uncomfortably close to how Torin might have described sex. He realized this was highly likely to be due to his recent exploration of sex and how it had come to preoccupy his thoughts more than even he wanted it to. He flushed but ignored it.

As the elf went on he forgot his discomfort and became intrigued instead. The food was good, plain and plenty as he liked it, the ale soothed the weariness from him. He ate in silence for a time, letting Sivan work through what he had experienced and turn it into words. He asked a few questions but it seemed like a very personal experience and was he honored that it was being shared with him. By the end he was smiling and said simply,

"I am happy for you. For both of You."

As soon as they had eaten and paid they left, making their way through the twilit streets toward Sivan's home. The cottage reminded Torin of Aurin's except the roof color, and that made him smile too. It felt more like a home than Aurin's did. There were personal effects scattered about, but beyond that, it felt somehow in the air as though it were trying its very best to embody the essence of Home. The air was fresher and sweeter than the often foul scented streets, it was cooler and...wetter? But not like a sweaty forge was wet. The air was smooth in his throat.

"Wow." He said aloud before thinking about it. There was no sarcasm in him, perhaps not ever, but especially not now. The room itself was simple enough, the basics of hearth, bed, table, place to wash. Though the wash area looked different and seemed to be attached to the wall.

He had barely had time to take in what he was feeling before Sivan was making introductions. Four little lights winked into existence in his hands, Torin blinked and had to fight back a laugh of delight. Squatting onto his heels he examined the four closely, the red one danced and flickered like firelight, the blue one seemed to flow even while holding still. The others were more subtle in their expression but still, it was magic. Living magic. This was what he was feeling all around him, the essence of life expressed through the elements.

"Hello," He spoke with a kind of solemn joy, "I thank you for this welcome." The words came easier to him when he wasn't thinking about them, as he assuredly was not at that moment. He spoke them to Sivan but also to the tiny elementals he was presenting. The temptation to reach out and touch them was strong but he wouldn't want a stranger coming into his home and poking as him so he kept his hands to himself. Looking up at Sivan with the lights of each dancing sprite reflected in his eyes he said,

"They are wonderful." Sounding more like music than words for the first time. Looking back down he reached a hand out but did not touch, as one might do to a new domesticated animal, letting the sprites reach out to know him, if they wanted.

"When I am working magic into form at my forge, sometimes it almost feels like it's alive, like it has a will of its own and I must coax it to the job it must learn to do." His voice was a little absent as he kept a careful distance, only drawing nearer when the little lights showed interest or curiosity. When Khal reached out and flickered over the tip of one finger he did laugh, partly from the ticking sensation and partly because he couldn't hold in his delight any longer.

"Is it hard to keep so many? I really don't know anything about practical summoning, only how it can be used in my own craft."

[Sivan]

Sivan smiled, a touch bashful. He wasn't used to getting along so easily with a person. Torin was a good person, in a way Sivan would have scoffed at earlier. But he had been lonely and Torin had appeared. It had been slow going and he had probably been a bit of a prick when they first met, but he was trying to allow himself to have a good thing in his life — a friend.

Connection is important to souls, Exael told him. He nodded to himself. Khal, the boldest, was flirting. Nut scudded out of his hand to tousle Torin's hair, and then all of them dispersed, their attention rarely lasting long.

"Don't mind them. They are simple. Like babies." He paused. "They were already here. Our plane. I made deals with them. Serve for a season, I feed them aether. At the end of the season, they want to stay. I feed them aether. They are simple, so not so much aether. Not so much to drain me. Exael... I had to summon it from the celestial plane. More difficult. Permanent contract. It does more; it's smarter." It didn't drain his aether, really, though he knew that his soul did sustain it in some ways. But Exael wasn't going to burn through his soul or anything. That was against the rules, and not really something that would benefit it.

"I think Khal senses the forge on you? Maybe? They can surprise. But come..."

The big surprise was under the sheet, but he wanted to show him the garden. This place had a back door, which led out into a little space. The adjoining buildings rose higher than his humble abode, and there wasn't much in the way of sunlight unless it was close to noon and the sun at its zenith. But light spilled out from his door, from the odd window, and the sprites, wanting to be helpful, flew out and began to glow all the brighter. They went to swirl around the tree that now stood in the center of the patch of dirt that pulling up the flagstones had revealed. The dirt was damp and mossy beneath its roots, and around the walls, he had little potted things — some herbs, some easy vegetables to grow, like tomatoes.

Fireflies answered the sprites. It was summer and animal spirits were often attracted to spiritwalker. In any case, the spirits in this neighborhood had grown accustomed to Sivan's presence and he had solved little problems for some, earning favors or at least good feelings. In the middle of the city, it felt like they were in the middle of a forest, just a lone tree in a clearing. He patted the trunk of the tree.

"Exael helped me put my friend in here. Cursed fae'ethalan. He sleeps so things don't get more bad, not while I try to figure out how to fix things."

[Torin Kilvin]

Torin's hair fluffed and then the little sprites were off back to their own concerns. He tried to stifle his grin, feeling it was impolite in the company of the elf whose smiles were rare and small. At times he had wondered if that was a normal thing in elven society or if it was a Sivan thing. Either way, he tried to tamp down his enthusiasm. It wasn't in a bad way as it was when he felt he had to hide himself, it was just something to make sure his friend was comfortable.

"You clever use Sprites for home. Perhaps it was normal for summoners but it still seemed like such a smart thing to do. "Home more nice for have Sprites." He knew he sounded like a child but he felt a little like a child and Sivan didn't make fun of him for his butchery of the beautiful language.

"Really?" His grin flashed back briefly when he thought that the little Fire might scent its kind on him. Having a fire sprite in a forge would be such a useful boon, would take hours of time off almost any project. "You think so?"

Following Sivan, as he mused he didn't notice where they were until he was already in the little green area. Spinning in a circle taking it all in he looked at Sivan, impressed again.

"You have a garden?" Torin missed green spaces almost as much as he missed his first master. Even as tiny as the space was it had the feel of the forest. "This is a wonder."

"You are a wizard." He laughed but entirely meant it. Sivan's cottage and little yard were how he'd imagined a wizard's tower and gardens as a child, all in miniature but no less for that. He watched the sprites dance and play with the first fireflies of Searing and began to relax in a way he only ever did around Aurin since he'd come to the city. "Thank you for this gift."

He was painfully sincere for a moment and then joked, "I owe you more dinners." Kneeling down by the pots of growing things he gently wrapped a tomato vine around his finger, "I could make you some cages for them if you like, there is enough scrap lying around from having made many of them to put together a few more."
They weren't the sort of project he'd worked on in years, being far too simple to give to anyone but the youngest apprentices but he remembered how. Turning back to the tree when he was mentioned he frowned, at first thinking, Sivan had buried a dead friend and planted a tree for them.

"Under but not dead?" He asked, slowly for trying to remember two unfamiliar words. "Fae'ethalan?" He didn't know the word in Mythrasi but he had known some of the creatures as they traveled often and sometimes had stopped in his village. He'd even made sort of friends with one when he was quite young.