Line Must End, i.
Posted: Sat Nov 13, 2021 1:07 am
73 Ash 121
It was official: Master Jacun was going to order him to make his own glassware for future alchemical projects. It didn't matter that Sivan protested he would waste so much lyrethillium because he knew nothing about glassblowing, let alone with the more expensive version made from depleted dragonshards. His master wouldn't budge. He said the glassblower he would be working with would help. Sivan could only sigh and acquiesce as his apprenticeship depended upon it and Jacun would be providing the materials. If he thought Sivan was ready and it wouldn't be a waste of time and resources, the young elf couldn't really argue.
There was still light out when he was released back into the world and so he hurried home, wanting to spend some time in the garden before the light was gone. He was fairly certain there was enough food for supper, or he could tend to the bees and the plants, and go out for something after. It wouldn't kill him to socialize with someone other than Destyn, Torin, or whoever came into the shop.
He was in his thoughts and so he almost ran into the Avialae in Sky Guard uniforms standing outside his green-roofed cottage. For a moment, he froze, wondering if someone had come to investigate why his cottage was suddenly at least half again as tall as it had been when he moved in. Perhaps there was some municipal code against magically augmenting buildings and he wondered if it would be safe to blame Geb because the sprite was not quite smart enough to stand trial.
"This is a crime scene, sir," said one of them, holding his hand out to block Sivan's advance.
"Pardon, I am living here, though." He blinked, the Common sounding wrong on his tongue. The sudden fear had made his fluency come into doubt. "I'm sorry... I'm Sivan Sunrunner Len'Myren, Master Jacun's apprentice. I live here. What's..." But then he saw the broken lock on the door and heard the movement inside.
"'Tis a mess, Apprentice." But he waved him inside.
It was indeed a mess and it was apparently also the scene of a battle as there was a wounded Avialae sitting on his bed being treated by a medic.
"I live here," he said immediately to all the eyes that turned on him as soon as he crossed the threshold. He could sense the sprites hiding in the garden, which was probably wise. If they had done anything to the Sky Guard, they might have been injured as well. It was disorienting. The place had been ransacked, though the first thing he did was rush to IX to make sure nothing had been damaged. It hadn't, thankfully, so he just pulled the sheet back over it to let it sleep. If it wouldn't even rouse itself from its torpor for a violent intruder, Sivan was definitely going to have to figure out some way to protect the place. He just hadn't thought it would be necessary, but there were IX and Flower to protect, the sprites, the bees; even the squealmouse was now under his dubious protection.
He didn't know where to look. The chair was broken, and the table overturned. Food on the floor, spare clothes strewn about the door to Geb's cellar was thrown open and he supposed his wine might have been stolen or smashed, though he wasn't allowed to investigate. Thankfully, his tools were all in Jacun's workshop as those were the most expensive things he owned.
Then he realized they were asking him questions.
"Do you have any enemies?" No.
"Is there anyone who would want to hurt you?" No.
"Have you recently been involved in any troubling business?" No.
"Are you all right?"
Sivan blinked, still trying to catch up with the situation, let alone the questions. It was possible someone might try to get to him in order to get to Master Jacun, he supposed. The man seemed well-liked but he was also powerful and power bred envy. It occurred to him that there was some business his master engaged in that seemed slightly shady to him, such as the trap they had fashioned for Siorey Val'Maranthy's trip into the Warrens, but Val'Maranthy had been pleased with it and so he doubted the black-robed young mage was trying to keep Sivan quiet. Perhaps they ought to ask Jacun questions; the man might know something, but Sivan certainly wasn't going to take a fall for him if that was what this was. He was loyal enough, but not that loyal.
"I don't know if I'm all right," he admitted with a shaky laugh. "I do work for Master Jacun and he has powerful clients, but I can't think of any reason why someone would do this to my home. It doesn't even look like they stole anything... just destroyed some things and made a mess. Is it all right if I...?" He indicated the kitchen mess. "I have some things that might help your injured friend."
Given leave, he found his kettle—dented but usable. When he turned on the faucet, Zin popped out along with the water and they whirled up his arm to huddle close to his neck. They didn't understand what was happening. He only let good people into this place. The Avialae weren't bad, but they were imposing and he got the impression they knew a little bit about whoever had done this. Khal appeared when he stoked the embers in the hearth, and then huddled near Zin.
From the mess, he found some things he needed that weren't busted open: willow-bark, arnica, etc. He had fresh tea in his satchel, and almost as soon as it was brewed properly, the injured Avialae called him over.
"Elf... ah, sir..."
"It's Sivan," he said, offering him the mug. He didn't know whether to sit down even though it was his bed, but the only chair was broken, and kneeling beside him would be stranger than just standing there so he just stood there.
"Sivan. Thank you."
"It will ease the pain a bit, speed healing a bit, and it's tea, so it'll clarify the mind a bit as well."
"Thank you," he said again, awkward and apologetic suddenly. The medic moved off.
"I was the first one on the scene," he began, "I heard a commotion inside the cottage and went to investigate. When I found the door broken open, I came inside only to find... someone who clearly did not belong there. He was wearing dark clothes, a mask... We fought and while I was wounded, I managed to fend off the attacker. I partially unmasked him. Enough to see elven ears, but I don't know what sort of elf... Beyond that, nobody has seen anything."
"An elf?" Sivan asked, bemused. "I was born in Silfanore and grew up in Dalquor. I have a friend here in town who is Fae'ethalan, a refugee from Zaichaeri violence. I don't know any Siltori personally. But I still don't know who would want to do this. If they didn't come to rob, then they must have come to do violence. Am I safe here?"
"Impossible to say," said another Avialae. This one looked to be in charge of the small unit from the way the injured man straightened up. "There will be an investigation, however. Here's my card, and here's a voucher for the Artisan's Guild. They should be able to help you with repairs. We are going to get out of your hair now, but we will be patrolling the street for the next several hours and eyes will be on your residence until well after dawn, so you should be able to sleep without fear."
"Thank you," Sivan said, taking both the card and the voucher, reading the card so he could thank the man by name.
"This is good," said the injured warrior after sipping the tea. "Thank you."
Sivan smiled tightly. He had so few guests, he wanted to be a good host, even with all things considered.
"Thank you," Sivan said again. "I'll call on you soon. I'm a summoner and my sprites were here. They aren't exactly what you would call sentient, but they might have some impressions that I can tease out of them, but it will take time and..." He looked around. "I have some cleaning to do as well."
"Yes," said the officer. "We will leave you to it. But we will be nearby if you need us."
The injured warrior finished his tea and Sivan took the empty mug from him as his officer helped him up off of Sivan's bed. The elf played good host, walking them to the door and closing it. The lock was entirely shot, but so was the closing mechanism so he dragged the broken chair over to hold it closed. That felt so inadequate to the shadowy threat of someone who wanted to kill him, though. He managed to set the empty mug down in the sink before his hands began to shake too hard, tucking them under his arms, he slid down to sit on the floor and shake.