3rd Ash 124
The events of two days hence were, according to the healer that attended Tavárinoikos, had passed from Torin's system. Torin was not so sure. The healer had let him know that there might be after-effects but they would be brief and mild, the substances he had accidentally imbibed had not been intended to do any harm or last beyond the day. The human's biology was different from and elves, of course, so there might be little differences in reaction. This had been reassuring, but the little flashes of euphoria that made all his senses perk up into a heightened state of awareness were not as fun as they probably sounded when he described them. Or, well, they were fun, but he worried very much that he would act the fool while experiencing one and undermine the goodwill and opinions that he had managed to build over a season in the illustrious house of crafting that he had been so reluctantly allowed into.
Thankfully, the school had been emptied by the festival except for those whose current projects required urgent attention. Torin had taken the next day off, thinking he might need it, and the 3rd day of the new season as well. He would certainly need the last of his days off, for it was the day that he was to meet his true master and escort him to his rented home. His request for aid had gone to the redhead as soon as he had realized it was needed, but that had been more than a month before. Three months since he had said goodbye to Aurin and Timon at the docks in Kalzasi. Though his work and studies had taken up his time, a part of him had begun to pine for his man, an ache growing under his skin and settling deep in his core. The idea that his excitement and anticipation were due to the beginning of the Runeforging section of his project never even entered his mind.
The morning that heralded Aurin's arrival, Torin dressed carefully, which is not to say he wore anything particularly grand. The clothing was well made, but more specifically, well tailored to his form. The vast quantity of new foods to try that Sol'Valen offered had combined with his teacher-mandated return to proving that he understood the basics of his trades meant that he had actually put on a little weight, most of it muscle, but the places between were sturdier as well. This meant that most of his clothing fit more snugly, which he sometimes felt embarrassed about, but today he was glad of it.
Arriving at the place they had arranged to meet a few minutes early the burly smith stood, fidgeting and resisting the urge to use his pendant to call for updates. Getting through the customs and such was a hassle that his pestering would not make easier.
The events of two days hence were, according to the healer that attended Tavárinoikos, had passed from Torin's system. Torin was not so sure. The healer had let him know that there might be after-effects but they would be brief and mild, the substances he had accidentally imbibed had not been intended to do any harm or last beyond the day. The human's biology was different from and elves, of course, so there might be little differences in reaction. This had been reassuring, but the little flashes of euphoria that made all his senses perk up into a heightened state of awareness were not as fun as they probably sounded when he described them. Or, well, they were fun, but he worried very much that he would act the fool while experiencing one and undermine the goodwill and opinions that he had managed to build over a season in the illustrious house of crafting that he had been so reluctantly allowed into.
Thankfully, the school had been emptied by the festival except for those whose current projects required urgent attention. Torin had taken the next day off, thinking he might need it, and the 3rd day of the new season as well. He would certainly need the last of his days off, for it was the day that he was to meet his true master and escort him to his rented home. His request for aid had gone to the redhead as soon as he had realized it was needed, but that had been more than a month before. Three months since he had said goodbye to Aurin and Timon at the docks in Kalzasi. Though his work and studies had taken up his time, a part of him had begun to pine for his man, an ache growing under his skin and settling deep in his core. The idea that his excitement and anticipation were due to the beginning of the Runeforging section of his project never even entered his mind.
The morning that heralded Aurin's arrival, Torin dressed carefully, which is not to say he wore anything particularly grand. The clothing was well made, but more specifically, well tailored to his form. The vast quantity of new foods to try that Sol'Valen offered had combined with his teacher-mandated return to proving that he understood the basics of his trades meant that he had actually put on a little weight, most of it muscle, but the places between were sturdier as well. This meant that most of his clothing fit more snugly, which he sometimes felt embarrassed about, but today he was glad of it.
Arriving at the place they had arranged to meet a few minutes early the burly smith stood, fidgeting and resisting the urge to use his pendant to call for updates. Getting through the customs and such was a hassle that his pestering would not make easier.