[flashback] Lighting The Match (Hadrian)

[Astrolabe]

Winter 58, 507 A.V. Astro sighed. He raised the glass flask to hold it closer to his eyes, but still, the contents remained a murky, disgusting brown, like something you’d see in a privy. The smell was highly reminiscent of that as well. He set the stubborn thing down on the table, as the professor walked by, shaking his head with a dismal look on his wizened face. There were still a few minutes left to go in the class. The practical exam wasn’t officially over yet. But for Astro it was. Defeated once more, he began to disassemble the philtering apparatus. He took the flask and before the professor had a chance to see what he was up to, Astro had dumped the vile contents in the stone basin that served as a sink. There was loud hiss and then a great popping sound, as the contents of the basin went shooting up, showering a few students who were unfortunate enough to be standing close by. A chime later, having cleaned it all up, made his dejected apologies, received a scathing admonishment from the professor – liberally infused with the familiar theme that Astro would do well to just leave the university and go back home – Astro was in the corridor, his leather satchel on his shoulder, contemplating how in the hell he was going to get through the massive amounts of assignments the professor had awarded him in pure vindictive punishment for being such a dumbass. To his right, he saw two of his classmates in conversation. Unsurprisingly, when they saw him, one of them giggled and the other whispered something. He wasn’t too bothered. This had been going on most of his life. He had a thick skin, to go with his thick brain. But he turned to his left, to put distance between himself and the two girls, and he saw one of his victims, loitering there, as if waiting for something, or someone. It was a young man who, as far as Astro could tell, was doing quite well and making super progress in the class. He had also been unfortunate enough to be standing right next to that basin when its contents exploded. Astro had already made a general apology to the four or five students so doused, to a reception of either silence or glares or expletives. He didn’t think this guy was one of the ones who had sworn at him. In any case, as he had to walk right past him, and as he was, truly, sorry to have cause such a mess, Astro made a small nod, and shrugged his massive shoulders. “Hey. Sorry about that, back there.” He gestured with his head towards the door of the classroom. His eyes took in the ugly brown spots spattered across the guy’s shirt. “I – I don’t know if that’s going to wash out. I –I’ll buy you a new one, if it doesn’t.” If he had been back home in Lhavit, any one of his family could have easily fixed the shirt, he was sure. Of course, it would have been to the accompaniment of much eye rolling, exasperated sighs and pained expressions on pinched faces. It was probably just as well he was here. He sighed, gustily. “So – sorry.” Astro was going to walk on past, but a thought occurred to him. “Hey, um, you seem to know what you’re doing – in there. Do you know, the distillation was supposed to clarify the solution right? I wonder how the hell mine turned right back to being so petching gunky? It wasn’t supposed to stink like a sewer, was it?”

[Hadrian]

Hadrian sighed when the strapping lad who didn't really look like he belonged in a philtering laboratory's failed experiment landed on him, but he knew well enough to wear old clothes in laboratories. This sort of thing wasn't really all that uncommon, though his classmate's failure was, to be sure, rather spectacular. Wiping at it with a towel only soaked it into the black material, but at least it wouldn't stain black the way it would a lighter, finer fabric. But he did smell of nightsoil. Oh dear. But at least his own experiment was not ruined. He had the mixture boiling just right, and the catalyst he had added just before the boil was slowly leaching the color right out of it and, thankfully, the smell as well. This was a beginning class, but Hadrian found just about any subject fascinating, much to the chagrin of those around him. Perhaps that was why his friends were few and far between, most of them people who were riding on his coattails to higher marks. Once his solution was absolutely clear, he used the tongs to remove it from the burner to rest the beaker in a bath of cool water to bring the temperature down before other, less savory, reactions occurred. The other student, forgotten while he worked, was still cleaning up things when Hadrian brought his solution up to the front, received his accolades, and quickly cleaned up. He felt bad for the other lad, a foreigner too, he thought, but was not sociable, and so he left. But even as he left, he started going through the process in his head, wondering how he had buggered it up so splendidly, and ended up stopping to wait, perchance to stop him too and ask if his analysis was correct. All the same, he was startled by the appearance of the young man himself, dredging Hadrian quickly from the turgid depths of his contemplation. Was that a Lhavitian dialect? He would have to ask later for his linguistics class. "Oh, it's fine. They're old clothes. Ahh... it's supposed to clarify and neutralize everything, balance the acid and base elements into mostly saline and... Did you even add the iron rust before putting it on the fire?" he asked. It came out a lot more critical than he meant it. It rarely occurred to Hadrian that people had feelings and were occasionally sensitive; he was so out of touch with his own.

[Astrolabe]

Astro’s face clouded over a bit – not because of the other student’s slightly critical tone – but because he was doing a mental palm to the forehead. Of course – he knew he had forgotten something crucial. “Oh, shyke – no. I forgot that step.” Yeah – no wonder the little packet of brown powder had been untouched when he went to clean up. He shook his head. “How do you remember all that crap?” Surveying the guy, Astro really did wonder how it was some people just took to magic so readily, while he seemed stumped by the simplest aspects of it. He just didn’t have a head for all the knowledge and studying it required, let alone a natural flair for it like every other member of his family had. When he went to study his lecture notes, or read the massive tomes of accumulated wisdom of the ages, his head spun and his brain shut down. It seemed like every other sentence he needed someone to interpret or explain what was being expounded upon. If he only had a mind like this guy seemed to have . . . “Hey . . . I don’t suppose . . . “ He hesitated. He wasn’t shy, but he also wasn’t pushy. Perhaps this guy would think he was an idiot for asking. Hell – he was sure to think him an idiot already, so what was there to lose? “He gave me a massive paper to write about the whole damn process,” Astro went on, jerking his thumb back towards the lab. “I – I don’t suppose I could talk you into, um, helping me with it? Like – trying to explain it to me? You seem to know what you’re doing. I’d – I could . . . pay you – for your time. Or, well, whatever you want.” Hmm, not likely this brainy guy could think of anything Astro could supply to him. “I, well – gods, I just really need some help here . . . um, I don’t know your name. I’m Astro by the way.” He stuck his hand out in his friendly way.

[Hadrian]

"The rust is oxidized iron," he went on, then realized the other student was changing the course of the conversation slightly. He blinked. "Oh, I don't know. I remember things I read usually." In fact, his memory was mostly eidetic with the occasional bout of foolishness. He paused at the actually question. Normally people just offered to pay him to write papers, the which he had done on occasion when his father tightened his hold on funds in an attempt to dissuade him from the course his education had taken since he became an adult. He peered at the young man for a moment, trying to understand if that was what he was actually after, if he just wanted to purchase a passing grade. Hadrian lost all respect for those people, who were wasting the time of many a great-minded professor, wasting money on classes they had no intention of passing on their own merit, and... Well, on second thought, this one seemed to actually be asking for help. He put out his hand, pale, long-fingered, ink-stained, and shook. He always wondered if he should Flux a little djed into his hand when shaking, to give a firmer grip without seeming to try, but it seemed wasteful and vain, and he generally berated himself for such foolishness. "Hadrian Aelius. Sure, I'll try to help. I'm not really an expert, but I can try to explain things better..."

[Astrolabe]

“Must be nice . . . “ Astro said under his breath, not in a mocking way but only disgruntled because he didn’t seem to be so blessed with easy recall. But the other boy shook his hand readily enough. It felt small and delicate in Astro’s rather large paw. In fact, on the whole the guy was definitely on the . . . refined . . . side, compared to the other young man who was fairly well built up due to his wrestling endeavors. “Hadrian. Alright – that would be really great – and much appreciated. Like I said, I can pay you – a little something, maybe more if I win more often.” Astro chuckled. Since coming to Zeltiva, he had much more freedom to pursue his true passion, and had found it was paying well enough in terms of prize money, and the betting going on. This was good as it helped to supplement the small amount that his family saw fit to spare him – not that they weren’t wealthy. They just didn’t seem to want to throw money away on this baffling failure of a son of theirs. “And from what I’ve seen of you, in class, you seem expert enough. Are you from a family of mages?” As Astro had only been at the university for a short while, he had only his experiences in Lhavit to go on. He pretty much assumed all skilled mages grew up surrounded by talented people, like his own family. He shifted the satchel on his shoulder, thinking of all the massive amounts of work that lay ahead of him that night. Inwardly he shuddered. “Um – I don’t suppose we could start, like – right now?” His voice held a note of plaintive wistfulness. “I – I could, buy us some dinner and we could eat it in my rooms. Unless you have other plans, I mean. I’m sure you’re probably really busy, with your own studying and all.” Did he sound as desperate as he felt? Was that even possible?

[Hadrian]

Hadrian attempted a smile, but it ended up more of a tight-lipped line, awkward and unsure. Astro spoke and questions popped into his mind; he couldn't help that he had a curious nature. Perhaps Astro was a gambler, or won at some other contest. He was certainly burlier than Hadrian, but that wasn't saying much. "Ah, you don't have to pay me," he averred. "My father... he's a merchant in Syliras." That was true insofar as it went; in fact, his father was more of a merchant prince, enjoying a healthy trade with the Order of the Knights of Syliras and other cities around the continent. Thankfully fewer people in Zeltiva recognized the name of Aelius and connected it with that of Trajan Aelius. "Oh, all right. Surely." He turned to fall into step with wherever Astro might lead him, not knowing where he lived. "My studies can wait. I've read ahead in all my classes." It was not at all meant as a boast, but such bluntly honest things tended to come out of his mouth before he could consider how they might be taken, if he thought to consider that at all. He was in Zeltiva to learn, and so he poured all his energy toward that end. But he did not look down on others whose minds were not as agile, nor did he think ill of Astro now that he was no longer interrupting his laboratory, the which he could not do at leisure. "I suppose we'll just review what we've gone over so far, and then look at rewriting your paper once you understand the concepts..." He wasn't exactly the world's best teacher but he could certainly find different words to explain things, which might help Astro in the end.

[Astrolabe]

Astrolabe was seriously pleased when Hadrian seemed fine with getting started right away. For one thing, there was, truly, a massive amount of work that lay ahead of the young Lhavitian. Though he was hopelessly thick, he still tried to do his best to at least make an attempt at his assignments. Secondarily, as he had spoken even so briefly with the other student, he realized that he hadn’t really made much of an attempt to reach out and make new friends here at the university. Things always seemed much easier, as far as that went, in the other crowd he hung out with – the wrestlers – who in this town were mostly sailors, naval or merchant. Back home it had been more farmers and shop workers who went in for the rough sport. “Wrestling” could be really just about anything, but mostly it was a slightly more formalized version of street fighting with lots of people looking on, betting, and some semblance of refereeing. About the only hold barred was throttling your opponent with your hands, and weapons were generally frowned upon. Otherwise, things could get fairly wild. That being said, there were certain ‘types’ the sport attracted – and usually that didn’t include students from the university. Astro had been in Zeltiva a few months now – he thought it was time to maybe cultivate some friendships amongst the other young men and women he rubbed elbows with every day in his lectures and labs. “OK – great. That sounds good. Make a fresh start of it and all – sounds like a good plan.” He probably would have agreed to just about anything to get Hadrian’s assistance. Astro led them out of the building which housed many of the lecture halls and laboratories, and they crossed a small courtyard surrounded by the other three sides of the quadrangle. They made some desultory conversation as they walked, heading towards the university refectory to pick up some portable provender. His own “rooms” – i.e. one room with a couch, table, chairs and a bed, with a tiny hearth and an even tinier window that looked onto another roof, wasn’t far. They purchased their selections, Hadrian still refusing Astro’s offer to pay (which was actually good because he was just a bit light of coin at that very moment). In short order they were arrived at their destination, books and satchels and what not thrown carelessly to the floor, and the food spread out on the table between them. Astro had fetched two cups and a pitcher of the remains of some red wine he had purchased the day before. He poured them each a cup of the precious stuff – it was very pricey compared to kelp beer, which he still couldn’t seem to stomach. His natural friendliness was well to the surface, and it could very realistically overpower his original intent to apply himself to his studies, if Hadrian was foolish enough to let it do so. He took a bite of meat pie, a sip of wine, and then asked, “So, you are from Syliras? I hear it’s a very grand place. Do you miss it? How long have you been here?”

[Hadrian]

Hadrian had his own way of maintaining a distance, unhealthy perhaps, from his fellow students: he lived in a cottage off campus. When he wasn't at school or walking the city to get his mind working, he was there alone. But he didn't complain overmuch when Astro seemed intent on tucking into food before they got to work. Frequently Hadrian would forget to eat, being too engrossed in whatever he was studying to be aware of the telltale signs of hunger. Frequently it wasn't until there was a buzz of impending headache or lightheadedness or a rather large growl of the stomach to warn him. Astro was being awfully nice, and Hadrian didn't really know how to reciprocate other than to exercise all the etiquette his mother had drilled into him. "Ah, yes. Syliras is very nice. The Knights keep it safe, and with that many people, there are many things that can be done that probably can't be done in many other places." Indeed, Syliras had two and a half times the population of Zeltiva, and was also a port city. "It doesn't have the University, though, so I am here. Ah, what is your course of study?" He hoped for Astrolabe's sake that it wasn't anything remotely related to philtering. If he was studying medicine, it would be important. Certain types of magic were supported by it. Even certain other sciences, perhaps.

[Astrolabe]

Astro took a sip of the wine and considered his reply. It was a very good question – one that had yet to be answered really. His parents had sent him to the university in hopes that the learned scholars there might somehow be able to impart the ways of magic to their son where they themselves had failed. So far, the instructors here didn’t seem to be able to make any better headway than his parents had. But it was early days yet, Astro told himself. His first year – and only the early part of the second term. There was still much he had yet to try. And the nebulous plan seemed to be that if he didn’t make any progress with his magic skills, he would study some other subject, or subjects, that might prove useful – such as history or mathematics or astronomy. The problem with that was, he didn’t seem to have any aptitude for studying those types of things either. In his life he had found one thing and one thing only that he was good at – wrestling. There was no way, though, that his parents would allow him to pursue that as a career. Hell they would blow a gasket if they knew he was pursuing it as a hobby! Setting his cup back down carefully, he said, “Um – that’s yet to be decided. My, uh, parents wanted to wait a bit and see what I was good at.” That might be a long wait indeed – like – forever. “What kind of things interest you, Hadrian?” He asked, helping himself to half of the small loaf of dark bread that he had purchased, tearing it in two and offering the other half to his new acquaintance. “Do your parents wish for you to take up any certain profession? Will you go into your father’s business?”

[Hadrian]

"My father wants me to pursue a course in economics and finance. He's considering opening a bank of sorts back in Syliras, and then probably throughout Sylira. He thinks it might organize Sylira against Ravok, so the Knights will probably back his plan. I just... hm, well. We are in negotiations now. He threatens to stop paying my tuition if I don't step into line and I... Well, eventually I hope to become Profressor Stonemiller's assistant. That way I won't have to rely on my father for funds. I appreciate the work he does, but it is not my calling, and he has my brothers and sisters to work in the family trade. I'm the black sheep..." That was more than he had said yet in one go, at least that didn't have to do with philtering, but he saw Astro's eyes glaze a little when the subject came up and he wasn't sure how much he would be able to help in that case, without actually writing his paper for him. "Most things interest me, at least in passing. Macroeconomics would be an interesting system to study, but not enough to keep me occupied. My mind wanders. I'm thinking I'll focus on magecrafting... it utilizes all the other disciplines... Perhaps when my father realizes how much money I could make, conceivably, he might invest in me."