The second day of Fall, 513 A.V.
"He turned to me so I could see, the dancing sparks alight.
'What have we here?' his voice was clear, as light pushed back the night.
'But why' said I, my voice so shy, as I watched his eyes grow tense.
'Did journey you, through green and blue, to stand now before me hence?'"
Meville's cheery warble bounced around the cabins of the Warrens, harmlessly falling off into the snow drifts that had been pushed up alongside the walls of the buildings around him. Last night had been a bit long, but shortly after Sidian had left, Meville had decided to retire. Thus, he'd gotten a bit more sleep than usual. Even his morning exercises had gone much better than usual, though he'd decided to refrain from using too much projection just in case. Assuming he truly was dealing with another practitioner of the magical arts, Meville doubted the other man would be very quick to speak of it. Surely he knew Avanthal was neither the place nor the culture to revel in the arcane, let alone whisper about it behind closed doors. This was, of course, assuming the very best outcome. For all Meville knew, Sidian was some sort of headhunter, driven by a thirst for revenge upon all those cursed with the taint of magic. If that were the case, Meville figured keeping a little bit of extra Djed than usual would be prudent.
"Ee seventeen..." His bright blue eyes flicked from door to door with a paradoxical lazy sort of acuity. Having lived in the Warrens his whole life, Meville was fairly familiar with the set-up of everything, though his whimsical nature often clouded his more semantic memories. He'd taken a wrong turn on his way over and was now in the confusing "Q-District" as he fondly referred to it. For whatever reason, the letters on the cabins seemed to be entirely arbitrary. Geninsi had tried to explain it to him on several occasions, but the complexities were beyond his comprehension (or at least, his interests). Either way, the "Q-District" was between "E-Alley" and "The C's", so he was close.
Still humming the tune of the little song from his childhood, Meville pulled at his lower lip as he continued on his way. He'd been thinking about what he was going to do right up until his head had hit his sheets, taking with it his consciousness. Though not an epoch, Meville had had enough time to formulate a sort of bare-boned outline for how he'd approach Sidian. Friendly was key, which was the easiest part, as the other man was, if anything, curious enough that Meville would have little problem maintaining interest. The issue arose when he had to keep his mouth shut about the whole subject of magic. Up until now, the idea of casually chatting about his abilities was easy to keep hushed. If any Vantha heard of Meville's more magical tendencies, he doubted there would be much lenience in his direction. He'd even refrained from telling Lorelle... Though he supposed she was just as much a stranger as a friend.
Sighing, Meville stopped before the cabin he'd assigned Sidian. If he remembered correctly, as he often did not, the particular cabin in front of him was the first his father had rented upon his initial arrival to Avanthal. The memory was sparked by the strange, reddish-hued glass that made up the windows. Three other cabins had colored glass in their frames, but only one had the disconcerting crimson of E-17. Frowning slightly, Meville tried to recall exactly why he'd chosen the building for Sidian's stay. Unable to pull out anything aside from "convenience" and "whimsy", Meville decided it was just coincidence. Or Lhex. Most of the time, the two seemed to coincide to the point where it was difficult to tell "luck" apart from "fate". Meville had all but given up upon trying to disentangle the two, choosing instead to just attribute things to lucky fate, or fateful fortune.
Chewing on his lower lip as he hopped up the two wooden steps to reach the door, he hesitated for a moment as his eyes were caught by his distorted reflection in the stained glass. Shaking the strange feeling of fearful nostalgia, Meville resolved himself and tapped lightly upon the wood twice and once with a more definitive thump, in case Sidian were in the washroom or the upper-bedroom. Stepping back a few paced, Meville turned once more to the window and stared with deep contemplation at a twisted version of his self. It was disconcerting, certainly, but whatever had given him such chills before seemed to have passed. Now, all he saw was the warped, nervous grin of a wit dulled.
With a slight start, Meville flicked his attention back to the door as the sound of a latch being undone clicked against his ears. "Ah, good morning, sir! I hope I haven't come at too early a time?"
'What have we here?' his voice was clear, as light pushed back the night.
'But why' said I, my voice so shy, as I watched his eyes grow tense.
'Did journey you, through green and blue, to stand now before me hence?'"
Meville's cheery warble bounced around the cabins of the Warrens, harmlessly falling off into the snow drifts that had been pushed up alongside the walls of the buildings around him. Last night had been a bit long, but shortly after Sidian had left, Meville had decided to retire. Thus, he'd gotten a bit more sleep than usual. Even his morning exercises had gone much better than usual, though he'd decided to refrain from using too much projection just in case. Assuming he truly was dealing with another practitioner of the magical arts, Meville doubted the other man would be very quick to speak of it. Surely he knew Avanthal was neither the place nor the culture to revel in the arcane, let alone whisper about it behind closed doors. This was, of course, assuming the very best outcome. For all Meville knew, Sidian was some sort of headhunter, driven by a thirst for revenge upon all those cursed with the taint of magic. If that were the case, Meville figured keeping a little bit of extra Djed than usual would be prudent.
"Ee seventeen..." His bright blue eyes flicked from door to door with a paradoxical lazy sort of acuity. Having lived in the Warrens his whole life, Meville was fairly familiar with the set-up of everything, though his whimsical nature often clouded his more semantic memories. He'd taken a wrong turn on his way over and was now in the confusing "Q-District" as he fondly referred to it. For whatever reason, the letters on the cabins seemed to be entirely arbitrary. Geninsi had tried to explain it to him on several occasions, but the complexities were beyond his comprehension (or at least, his interests). Either way, the "Q-District" was between "E-Alley" and "The C's", so he was close.
Still humming the tune of the little song from his childhood, Meville pulled at his lower lip as he continued on his way. He'd been thinking about what he was going to do right up until his head had hit his sheets, taking with it his consciousness. Though not an epoch, Meville had had enough time to formulate a sort of bare-boned outline for how he'd approach Sidian. Friendly was key, which was the easiest part, as the other man was, if anything, curious enough that Meville would have little problem maintaining interest. The issue arose when he had to keep his mouth shut about the whole subject of magic. Up until now, the idea of casually chatting about his abilities was easy to keep hushed. If any Vantha heard of Meville's more magical tendencies, he doubted there would be much lenience in his direction. He'd even refrained from telling Lorelle... Though he supposed she was just as much a stranger as a friend.
Sighing, Meville stopped before the cabin he'd assigned Sidian. If he remembered correctly, as he often did not, the particular cabin in front of him was the first his father had rented upon his initial arrival to Avanthal. The memory was sparked by the strange, reddish-hued glass that made up the windows. Three other cabins had colored glass in their frames, but only one had the disconcerting crimson of E-17. Frowning slightly, Meville tried to recall exactly why he'd chosen the building for Sidian's stay. Unable to pull out anything aside from "convenience" and "whimsy", Meville decided it was just coincidence. Or Lhex. Most of the time, the two seemed to coincide to the point where it was difficult to tell "luck" apart from "fate". Meville had all but given up upon trying to disentangle the two, choosing instead to just attribute things to lucky fate, or fateful fortune.
Chewing on his lower lip as he hopped up the two wooden steps to reach the door, he hesitated for a moment as his eyes were caught by his distorted reflection in the stained glass. Shaking the strange feeling of fearful nostalgia, Meville resolved himself and tapped lightly upon the wood twice and once with a more definitive thump, in case Sidian were in the washroom or the upper-bedroom. Stepping back a few paced, Meville turned once more to the window and stared with deep contemplation at a twisted version of his self. It was disconcerting, certainly, but whatever had given him such chills before seemed to have passed. Now, all he saw was the warped, nervous grin of a wit dulled.
With a slight start, Meville flicked his attention back to the door as the sound of a latch being undone clicked against his ears. "Ah, good morning, sir! I hope I haven't come at too early a time?"
Common | Vani
