Completed The flame of a candle (Koran, Brandon, Savos)

[Ornea]

The flame of a candle
Timestamp: Day 5 of Fall 514 AV
Location: The candle shop Bright Lights in Lhavit

Ornea had only been aiming to buy candles for her new apartment but now she had been persuaded to attend a seminar about the history of candlemaking as well. She was told a visiting master candlemaker from a faraway city named Alvadas was going to hold this seminar.

Candlemaking wasn’t Ornea’s foremost interest exactly, she was only a user of candles and truth to be told she didn’t care how the candles were made as long as they worked as intended. But the shop owner was glowing with excitement as he spoke and his enthusiasm was contaminous . He had managed to convey this to Ornea and convince her that this seminar about candlemaking was a once in a lifetime opportunity she couldn’t miss.

She had bought two dozen normal candles, and now she watched while the shop owner picked the candles from the shelf and wrapped them in a piece of thin and cheap grey cloth and tied a piece of simple ribbon around the parcel. Ornea put the candles in her backpack and then she opened her purse and paid for the candles. She did’t walk around with every kina she owned; she used to keep most of her money in a safe place and used the purse to bring the money she could reasonably need. After paying the candles she had had two kina and a seven topaz left on her.

She put the purse in a pocket of the simple brown bryda pants she was wearing and turned to look in the direction the shop owner pointed to. The seminar was obviously going to be held in a corner of the shop. Small, simple wooden stools were placed in a half circle, facing a small round table consisting of a big round wood tray on top of on high thin spiderlike metal legs. Candles of various shapes and colors were arranged on the tray and behind it stood a mesmerizingly beautiful woman.

The woman was dressed in a silver shimmering, light grey Lhavit style outfit, with a long narrow skirt, a tight sleeveless bodice and a big shawl to drape over this. The shawl was however draped over the high back of a chair behind the woman, and she stood before them in only the skirt and bodice, slim and elegant. Her skin had a sunkissed, golden tone and long, glossy, black hair framed her lovely face and fell to her waist in soft, sleek waves. This was the master candlemaker, Iskiraya Mifune, an exotic and fascinating guest from the other side of the Kalean continent; the both legendary and somewhat ill reputed city of illusions.
The candle shop was lucky to have such a prominent visitor grant them a seminar, the shop owner had told Ornea.

Some people in the small audience gathered in the candle shop this early evening were already getting seated on the stools, while others still strolled around looking at candles on the shelves like they had decided to stay, yet weren’t really sure why. The shop owner went over to the door and shut if, closing the usual business for today. Then he rushed - rush was the only word for the eager way he moved - rushed to the spider legged tray table and lit the candles on it, after which he bowed to the exotic beauty in a very respectful way and went on to turn out all other lights in the shop one by one until only the light of the candles on the tray remained.

Ornea sat down on one of the stools, placed her backpack on the floor between her feet, and looked at the woman. When the Inarta met the clear, dark violet gaze of the lecturer, briefly, she felt a small pang of excitement, happiness and awe, just like when looking at a particularly good piece of art; a painting, a sculpture or other art or crafted items of very high quality indeed. The perfection of the woman was utter and complete. She was like a vison; a dream in silver, gold and black. Not a single tiny detail had been left to chance and the total impression was breathtaking. Ornea was vaguely aware of the others in the audience as they came to sit on the other stools, but she wasn’t looking at them. All her attention was fixed on the fantastic Iskiraya Mifune.

Now she watched this exceptionally stunning woman lift one of her golden skinned arm and reach out for a small silver bell on the try. The nails on her hand were almond shaped, gilded and glittered subtly in the candlelight. She lifted the bell and shook it slightly. A small, clear, metallic sound rang in the air, delicate as the song of a small bird. Ornea supposed the purpose was to make the audience aware it was time to start. She heard the steps of somebody arriving late and then it went silent.

For a few ticks it was totally silent.

“Welcome” said Iskiraya Mifune. Her voice was warm and deep and full of promises. “Welcome to this seminar about the history of candlemaking. I assure you this is a topic much more intriguing and exiting than most people would even guess at.”

She smiled, and her smile was as charming as you could expect from an alluring being like her.

The slightly flickering light of the candles on the tray lit up her face and made the silvery reflections of the fabric of her clothes shine and glimmer. “Welcome” she said a third time, in a final tone, sounding as mysterious as if she completed some kind of ritual, while her gaze trailed over the small audience like she was counting them.

A new smile, even more charming than the first one. “What do you already know about the history of candlemaking? I would like you to discuss this briefly with the people sitting next to you, just to get a first insight about how much the audience already know.”

Ornea looked at the people sitting next to her. They looked like men in the upper teens and at most lower twenties, and she must admit that she didn’t expect them to be overly knowledgeable about candle making history. She wondered what had made them attend. Perhaps they had simply seen the beauty of the lecturer and this was why they were there. If this was the case, she doubted they would admit it though. She wouldn’t be surprised if they would say something impressive, whether this was true or just something they made up out of the blue.

Her own reactions to them would be somewhat influenced by if they were equal to avora, artisans like herself and the lecturer, or if they were just common workers, the equivalent of chiet. Not that there were any castes in Lhavit, but in Orneas Inartan mindset there was. It wasn’t something she thought of actively, it was just something she took for granted. The words of crafters and artists would naturally be more important than the words of some mere worker. Then again, if somebody had a high standing of some kind and could be seen as superior and in some way possible to compare to an endal, their words would be very important indeed.

But no need to speculate. She would soon get to hear what they had to say and maybe there would be room for figuring out what they were worth. She offered her own nearly non existant knowledge first. Best to get it done and over with : “I’m a metalsmith. So I’m afraid I don’t know much about candle making. And I know even less about the history of candle making. But I’m really looking forward to learn more. And what about you?”

LedgerCandles - 48 jade kina

...

[Brandon Blackwing]

If Brandon should name a reason why exactly it was he found himself in front of the candle shop a couple of days into Fall, he wouldn’t have been able to give one right away. He might have pondered and wondered, tapping his finger on his chin or temple, but fail to give an explanation. He might have stroked his goatee in thought, eyes squinted as if it would help him to focus on the matter and be unable to voice his motives. Why? Because he honestly had no idea. It just happened to be the place he had found himself stop at, taken there by his feet while strolling through Lhavit’s streets and the maze of his own mind.

Lost in thought he had been, going over things of the past –memories old and new- and things of the future, things that were to come, or rather could come his way. It was his own personal habit of unwinding himself, to relieve him of the burdens that pained him, whatever they might be. It was one of the things he couldn’t live without, one of his compulsions that couldn’t be left unfulfilled. It was his very own ‘me time’ where he could just venture into his own head and stay there, reflecting on everything that crossed his mind, hopes and fears, worries or just relive fun times.

It didn’t have to be a stroll per se, not at all, a nightly flight would do just as well, just switching over to automatisms and muscle memory to get by for a while so he could clear his head. Just walking and thinking, or flying, hunting and eating while being distracted and absentminded. In that state his feet or wings would lead him around, sometimes in circles, sometimes through parts of the city where he rarely came, or perhaps the exact opposite, but where he ended up when returning to the realm of the conscious was always a surprise. Always.

So it was that the bat found his eyes staring through a window, the window of a shop he’d never visited before, a place he’d never even think of entering. The name alone was enough to make the young bat turn around one hundred and eighty degrees and walk away. Bright Lights. Bright lights. Anyone who knew the bat a little knew that bright lights and bat Kelvics –or just bats in general- didn’t go hand in hand. Bright light tended to hurt his eyes, nocturnal as they were. Fortunately, his current orbs were –while slightly dark attuned and allowing for better sight in the dark than those of most others- relatively resistant to the Queen of Brightness Syna and all other bright lights.

While it took a while for the bat to come to and understand how he got there, he was quick to take action and hurry towards the door. Not to get inside mind you, but to get outside. For whatever reason his feet had forced him in here he didn’t know, but now that he was fully in control of his actions and deeds he just wanted to get out. Beeswax wasn’t pleasant to the nose, and the abundance of candles made from the material just made the scent worse. His feet, so he decided, were playing a prank on him. They’d used the opportunity to walk him into a shop he never wanted to visit and position him in front of the window, staring at the world outside. Swiftly he strode to the portal that would take him there, with controlled pace and hurried but not obviously so, not wanting to stand out. Unfortunately, part two of his feet their plan was set into motion.

The owner of this cursed shop had arrived at the door faster, closing it before Brandon could take three steps. That was …. Unexpected. Was the business closing already? Was it rest time already? No wait, that wasn’t it. People had gathered in the back of the room, where a table stood, encircled by a multitude of stools. Candles were being lit by the shop owner, who practically flew there, with excitement written all over his face. Brandon was faced with the dilemma of leaving now and as such breaking the mood and scene that was being formed, risking to become the center of attention while that was most definitely not what he wanted or being forced to stay here, drown in the scent –the way to strong mixture of mint and lemon, lavender and whatnot- of the candles and attend whatever it was that was about to go down but staying in the shadows, so to speak. What would he choose? A short moment of being glared and glanced at, people wondering why one would stay only to leave a chime later, being laughed at or be quiet and sit on the stools, testing the limits to his patience until he was free to leave?

He chose the latter. Part of the reason being that it couldn’t be that bad if such a beauty was attending –or hosting the event. Argh! Damn mating season! That outfit revealed way too much, it showed off her curves too much, the bat couldn’t resist. He’d stay and watch, if only to succumb to his desires. Gods be damned!

A chime of a bell echoed through the room, as if to make everyone aware it was time to start. The thief still stood by the door, not yet fully convinced of the rightness of his choice. Though, one glance towards the small group was enough to make his hand let go of the doorknob and to make his legs stride to the empty stool. An inwardly sigh.

The small crowd was given a warm welcoming by the lady, but though her smile should have been enough to make want to stay, the subject of this meeting most certainly didn’t. A seminar about the history of candlemaking? Seriously? What the petch was he doing here? He could barely resist the urge to look over his shoulder for the door, knowing it was beckoning him temptingly. His mind’s utmost disappointment was more than enough to make his body believe this woman wasn’t fit to mate with. They weren’t on the same page, no matter how stunning she looked. His interest was fleeting already, a hand came up to support his chin. Leaving now would be too obvious, staying was the only option. Damn it!

Converse with the people next to you? Discuss the matter? What? This wasn’t helping at all, things were getting worse with the tick! What the hell was up with this seminar? What the hell is a seminar in the first place? It was clear that the bat had picked the worst option possible for him, the gods surly were laughing right now. Fortunately, a voice next to him gave him a spark of hope, she didn’t know anything about candlemaking either, and just had voiced it. He didn’t even have to look to recognize her as Inarta, the slight chirp in her voice, the accent Arysana and Chari had had made it all too obvious. “I don’t know anything about candlemaking either,” the thief spoke, loud enough for everyone to hear, very matter-of-factly. If he had any say in the matter, he didn’t want to know anything about it either, but those feeling were hidden from the public.

OOCBran is probably as close to a dek as it gets here Though you could see him as an artist of sorts. Schooled in the art of picking locks and pockets that is
c

Credit goes to Ollic

[Koran Frostfawn]

Walking through the streets of Lhavit Koran hunted for different prey this evening, namely something of interest. The countless shops and buildings slowly passed as he walked none grabbing his interest until some intriguing sculptures caught his eye. He looked through the window at the brilliant birds and people and wondrous shapes all carved out of...well whatever candles were made out of for they were indeed candles. Carving was a hobby of his to say the most about it since he never made a career out of it and never any real money from his amateur wood work. Still, carving did intrigue him enough to break up the monotony of the days so far. He went in for the purpose of maybe purchasing some of the expertly carved candles and posing questions from the artisan who crafted them perhaps in hopes of transferring their technique to his or maybe even getting into candle carving.

The place had an odd odor to it that he attributed to the candles, some of them lit. The odd and somewhat unpleasant odor somehow was made even more unpleasant by the occasional scented candle lit or unlit. The odd mixture of lavender and other scents mixed with what he would call the natural odor of the unscented candles gave the entire place this odd sickening scent that made his nose cringe. He scanned the room looking at the candles giving the plain ones merely a glance before his eyes landed on the sculpted candles. His eyes almost immediately changed from their usual chocolate brown to a pleasant warm rose colored look signifying joy or happiness, an emotion he often felt when doing anything related to his hobby of crafting which he did enjoy. He picked up a few of the smaller carved candles, running his fingers over the spiraling designs and intricate details that the artisan obviously took time with. The larger candles caught his eye and the rose color became subtly darker in his eyes. He picked up a candle shaped like a proud eagle and it resembled a Kelvic friend he had when he was in Avanthal. The artisan was indeed skilled as Koran appraised the way the eagle stood on his perch looking out with a fierceness and pride that would honor it's living counterpart. It was roughly a foot high but it was a striking figure, he had to have it. The other candle that caught his eye was the same size but of another subject matter he was very familiar with and made him homesick to an extreme level. The candle was carved in the likeness of the beloved Queen of Winter, Morwen. His eyes went from rose colored to an intense and very deep ocean blue, which added an otherworldly appearance to his look.

His homesickness and fond Avanthalian memories he tucked away for the moment, there would be time to lament on his lost homeland later in quiet solitude as he preferred to keep those lamentations. He took the two meaningful candles, one of the beloved Goddess reminding him of his home city and the other reminding him of his lost friend who he still thought about from time to time. The shopkeeper was an elderly man and had a “salt of the earth” kind of look to him. His face was pitted and wrinkled but his smile was bright and full of joy. He seemed in good spirits, it seemed to Koran. The man took the eagle candle in his hands and nodded and then turned his attention to the Morwen candle. “Ah, this one has been sitting here for quite some time,” the man said in a gravely voice. “A vantha came in here several years ago with a sketch of her,” he said pointing to the candle, “I carved her and the Vantha never came” he said matter-of-factly. “I'm glad it's going to a home now at least” he said as if to say that was the reason for bringing it up. Koran looked at the man with new eyes and his dark ocean colored eyes turned to the joyous rosy color once again and a look of recognition quickly ran across the man's face. Koran began to pelt the man with questions, realizing the man was the artist who carved the unique candles. The man laughed a little and held up his hands, “please, please young man I would love to discuss my art with you but if you're that interested we have a special master here that came from across the region and she is truly skilled in candles. Perhaps you could learn from the lecture she is giving right about now.” Koran nodded and the man showed him to where the lecture was to be held. It was to be held in the shop with nothing more of a set up than a table and some wooden stools. He took one of the empty stools next to a light skinned woman with brilliantly red hair, a hair color Koran had never seen before. He attributed it to being in this new region though and nothing more. He also noticed a dark skinned and intimidating looking figure that seemed out of place in something such as a candle shop and a dark clothed man that definitely looked as if he detested being there, but then why come at all?

Koran waited patiently for the lecture to begin but in truth he was excited to learn about a craft from a skilled artisan. Another reason Koran was a bundle of nerves inside was the public, he seemed to always have a fit of anxiety in social settings. He didn't really know what it was but he was always intensely shy and nervous around groups of people. This anxiety wasn't helped when the lecturer came in. She was a picture of stunning beauty and loveliness to say the very least. He noticed that a lot of the males, and even a few females were instantly more attentive to the idea of candle making history. The woman was indeed gorgeous but he didn't come inside the candle shop for mating...if anyone did that would indeed be something strange. Koran came to learn more about his own hobby and maybe improve on his craft, the attractiveness of the lecturer was insignificant to his main purpose. He viewed many things this way, having a hierarchy of importance and peripheral things must fall to the wayside to allow more important things to become prominent. Not all things he viewed in this way but a lot of things he viewed this way. This was certainly one of them. The lecturer mentioned discussing their candle making knowledge to each other and Koran's muscles tensed in a physical reaction to the semi-forced socialization. “I know nothing of candles, but I do have experience in carving and enjoy it thoroughly” he said announcing it to everyone and no one in particular at the same time. He avoided making eye contact for fear of stumbling over his words as it often happened when he spoke in any sort of public forum. It filled him with such an abhorrent feeling he almost missed the others announcing their creative or candle making histories, in which not many had at all. He had to admit that he wouldn't have thought many people would have much experience in such a thing.

Ledger2 large complex carved candles - 20 Kina

[Savos]

Lost ruminations and a cold breeze brought Savos to the candle shop that day. His actions that day were slow, distracted, and otherwise disinterested by the things around him. He remembered sitting at a small Lhavitian teahouse, listening to the old man Nima once more. The clothes merchant was a simple man, and could tell when Savos was not ready for their usual banter. Instead, he proceeded to ramble, as though he didn't even care whether Savos was listening or not.

"Nights are goin' ta start gettin' cold soon. I like to stay out on me rooftop and pretend I'm having a good ol' conversation with Leth, but the wife won't have it in the Fall. She keeps sayin' I'll catch a cold and die.

If I die whilst in prayer, however, would that grant me passage to Leth's home in the Ukalas? Or would He curse me for dying in such a stupid fashion, in His name no less?

They never really say what that ol' moon thinks of our mortality, or what we should do with our own awareness of it. Most gods do. They want ya to do something important with yer' time on this land, whatever that means. Leth seems like He would rather you figure out a reason to survive or die, but make it your reason, is all."

Savos simply nodded in agreement, and that was enough to let Nima know that he was not off the beaten path, at least to Savos. They liked to wonder about what that pale glowing god was like, debating and building on prior theories for hours at times. When there was silence, it was known that they were on the same page. No need to speak about something that was already clear to the both of them.

Savos enjoyed listening to the old man's musings. Lately, it had seemed to him that his reasons for staying alive had largely greyed out. He was far from suicidal, of course, but he sometimes felt like he was simply waking up to eat, and go back to sleep.

Ever since that life-threatening trip through the Misty Peaks with the Myrian Neve, Savos' established life had seemed incomplete. He was still somewhat recovering from the bruises and cuts he had suffered, moving with slow deliberation, much like the way his mind dared travel to things he would rather not think about.

"You going to that talk about the Candles?" Nima asked after a while, sipping greedily at his tea.

"I'll go if you go."

"You have a surprisin' lack of opinions these days, Savos, but I'll wait a while to get up in your business about it. I'll go if you go."

"I guess its decided then," Savos got up from his seat to leave, assuming that Nima had mentioned the event due to it occurring very soon in the future. The pair rarely ever planned the little strolls they took around Lhavit. Not even ones as random as a Candle-related seminar.

Savos did not care for candles, and he did not care for long-winded lectures either. He simply enjoyed staying out in Lhavit with social contact, far from the confines of his lonely apartment. Being alone nowadays was simply painful, as he would simply regress on his thoughts of leaving the city, running to the ocean and wandering its waters until he knew what to do with himself. Lhavit just didn't seem like the right place to be anymore.

He and Nima joined the current of people walking into the shop like pebbles down the river, allowing themselves a seat only when the opportunity presented itself. Unfortunately, the two were separated due to the lack of pairs of empty spots available. No matter, they would discuss the nature of their latest venture later.

He found himself inspired by the strong scents of the room, lending to themselves an ambiance that he had not previously encountered. Though the space made him feel slightly claustrophobic, he focused on the agreeable lighting that the little works of art presented. He knew he would have little interest to hear whatever the woman who walked up to speak had to say, so he pulled out his sketchbook and began to draw with a little used piece of charcoal.

At first he drew the candles around him, but quickly found that after gesturing one or two on his page, those were not the things that gave this room the life he searched for. It was in the people, fascinated by such an unnoticed craft, filling the room with a passion that Savos did not know existed for simple flame and wax and incense. So he began to draw the faces in the audience, only listening to the soothing words of the beautiful woman in front of him as though it were the rustling of a breeze.

He had begun a sketch of a man at the same table as him, one with darker skin and a foreign face that did not share any common Lhavitian features or styles. Savos could tell, that this one was not here to ogle at the beautiful woman in front of them. What his eyes were looking at were the candles, burning little works of temporary art, melting only after dreamy eyes had seen them at least once. Savos only wished he could capture that much emotion on his paper, but knew he would have to be a master for such a task.

His drawing was left unfinished as the attention was turned to the audience. Savos looked around at the other people at his table, a shifty-eyed man and a lady with lovely red hair that glowed orange in the candlelight. He wondered whether his own interjection would be necessary, but couldn't help himself when they all claimed ignorance as to the nature of candles.

"I know a thing or two about the history of candlemaking," Savos said to the man next to him musingly. He seemed shy and tense, nervous about speaking to those around him. Savos decided he would try to lighten up at least this one's mood.

"One night, a few men and women decided they hated the smell of burning wood, they were much too sophisticated for it. And then, thousands of seasons later, a seminar was held about candle-making."

[Ornea]

Ornea had listened to the people nearby and had a first impression of them.

First there was the young man right beside her, who had strolled around in the shop like he was totally confused and lost, before he finally sat on the stool beside her. There was something definitely groggy with this man. He had stared at the lecturer Iskiraya Mifune like something had hit him in the head. But he had been quick to join Ornea, claiming to be totally ignorant about candle making. She felt relieved that she wasn’t the only one who didn’t know anything about the topic of the evening.

But she felt a little bit troubled too. The others seemed like decent artisans, but she seemed to be teamed up with somebody who was only a chiet. At most. He hadn’t mentioned his profession at all. Well, well, well ... she suspected he had lower rank than her, for Wind Reach standards. But this was Lhavit and she couldn’t know for sure. It was best to not totally ignore him. So she looked at him and nodded and said something benevolent and overbearing about how it was okay to not know anything about candle making.

In a subtle try to figure out his job she introduced herself cheerily to Brandon. “I’m Ornea from Wind Reach. I’m working as metalsmith at Lucis and Lucis. Are you a crafter too? “

Hopefully he would tell her his name and reveal his profession. She didn’t want to be too obvious, so she left it there, while she looked at other people. But she would hear what he said,if he answered, she thought. After that she could behave accordingly to him. But now she smiled politely at the man who had been drawing and the one who had spoken so seriously about carving. She introduced herself to them too, praised the drawings and admired the two elaborate candles the carver had bought. Good taste ! The two of them said their names. Koran and Savos; Ornea was Inarta and used to memorize peoples first names so this was what she did.

Obviously the two of them appreciated good artwork and none of them seemed groggy, at least not yet. But it might come, she realized, when the wonderful Iskiraya used her little silver bell again and made a summary of the things she had heard the audience say.

“I can hear that there’s some quite knowledgeable people here, but as some are complete novices I will start from the beginning. Alas this means some of you may become bored, but please don’t be embarrassed if you start to feel sleepy at some point. I will not take offense if somebody takes a nap.” She laughed a cute, sweet little laugh. “You are welcome to ask questions, in particular after this lecture, but you can of course interrupt me if there's something you need to get answered right away.”

She picked a few sturdy,clumsy, new candles from a shelf behind her. “This is old times candles. In order to understand this lecture, and understand the old times, you need to experience these candles fully. So I will light them and replace these nice beeswax candles for a while. The beeswax comes back later. Now, brace yourselves for the light of the past.“

With this she lit the sturdy old times candles and put the beeswax lights out with a small candle snuffer of brass. Ornea, being a metalsmith, always used to notice interesting metalwork details. The candle snuffer was a high quality cast metal tool, with an elegant exotic flower at the end of the handle. Very nice. She studied what she could see of it in detail, with avid professional interest and thought that she might want to try to cast a similar one when she got time and opportunity.

But it had become half dark in the room and it was already obvious that the old times candles were quite bad and also stinking. The stench spread in the room, and it started to smell like somebody was grilling something half rotten. Ugh. But the beautiful lecturer seemed unaffected by the stench and it was obvious that she expected the audience’s full attention. She told them of the early times of candle making, when this kind of primitive candles had been made of leftover fat from fish or other dead animals.

"In the old times, people wanted to take care of exactly every tiny bit of useful materials" she told them.

Some people had started to whisper with each other. Maybe it was in reaction to the stinking candles, maybe it was interest, or maybe somebody was already starting to feel sleepy and tried to stay awake by whispering. Ornea felt a little bit nauseated by the stench and hoped this part, about the really old times candles, would soon be over. She looked discreetly at the people to the right and to the left of her, wondering if they too were wishing the lecturer would hurry up and come to the nice fragrant candles of today. She was really worried they would ask the lecturer questions and prolong the pain ...

...

[Brandon Blackwing]

The two other people that made up their little group were men also, one darkskinned and rather tall, the other one shorter, sporting almond skin and brown eyes. While the later seemed nervous, the former shined with confidence as he leaned in and spoke of a scene of many years ago. A grin couldn’t be suppressed, dragging the corners of his mouth aside and making his lips part slightly. While he wouldn’t really call that ‘being knowledgeable about the subject’, it was amusing at least. Since all around him appeared to be crafters or artists, Brandon decided to keep himself in the background, only planning to open his mouth to speak if someone asked him something, leaving the discussion of candles to them.

Yet, the Inarta didn’t want to let him slip away unnoticed, addressing him immediately, introducing herself and confirming his assumptions. Wind Reach, home of the Inarta was where she originated from as well. The bat found it rather strange she included her place of birth –or at least the city where she had been living prior to coming to Lhavit- in her introduction. Internally though, he shrugged and wondered whether it was common to introduce oneself like that. Well, in if that was the case… “I am Brandon from Kalinor,” he spoke in response, crossing his arms.

His name was not enough though, as she pressed him to reveal his occupation. It was subtle, just a query asking if he too was a crafter. Usually, people would reply with ‘No, but I’m a ….’ If they were not, but Brandon wasn’t bound by such unspoken rules. A simple “No” was all he allowed to leave his lips, for his job was not something he shared with just about anyone. Especially so if he’d just met them. Ornea shifted her attention to the crafter and artist in their little group and started praising them for both their skills and taste in candles. Contently the bat relaxed a bit, letting out a silent sigh.

The small bell chimed again and the woman who held the seminar began talking again, teasing subtly and giggling a bit. A frown appeared on the bat’s forehead, a hand was brought to his face pensively, stroking his chin. Somehow he didn’t like this Iskiraya at all, there was something about her that oozed … wrongness… He didn’t know what, but it was a premonition of a bad happening. Take a nap eh? He’d rather not take her up on that offer, preferring to stay awake and continuing to observe the whole event. The feeling of safety had been compromised and the Kelvic shifted nervously on his seat.

And then things got a lot more unpleasant. Lecturer Iskiraya grabbed a couple of candles that she described as ‘old times candles’, in other words, primitive candles. The bat didn’t need them to be lit to smell what they were made of: animal fat. Nice was not the word suited to describe the scent, but it wasn’t like it was the worst thing he’d ever smelled either. Not even when Iskiraya lit them and the stench started to spread through the whole shop. If anything, Bran found this to be an improvement; no absurdly strong scents of concoctions added to beeswax so the pathetic nostrils of an ordinary human could ‘enjoy’ the smell. These old times candles weren’t that bad, not for someone who was used to staying in small caves filled with small hairy bodies and littered with bat poop for a day -or in extreme cases a season. Not that bats smelled that bad, not at all actually, they didn’t sweat so they didn’t stink of it either, nor did they possess the noticeable smell dogs had.

Anyone else though appeared to be close to throwing up, becoming nauseous and making funny faces, even the lecturer cringed her nose, though she managed to compose herself rather well, continuing her tale calmly. People whispered to each other, inaudible to most, but their words perfectly clear to the eavesdropping bat. It seemed some wondered how long Iskiraya was planning to keep the old times candles lit, if she’d hurry up or would be talking about them for a while longer still. None of them was interested in the candles themselves it seemed, which caused the thief’s face to split into a grin. Time to prolong their suffering a bit, he could have some fun himself too, right? “So, the obvious difference in smell and the materials used to make them not included, what else sets these candles apart from those we use today? ” he questioned with a faint smile perched on his lips, letting his eyes drift through the crowd, scanning for dismayed glares. Please, do indulge in the oh so pleasant smell of candles a bit longer, he sneered internally, vengefully pleased. How these candles smell to you, so do yours to me. Well, that was a tiny exaggeration … maybe.
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Credit goes to Ollic

[Koran Frostfawn]

Koran quickly got bored with the lecture and grew increasingly tired of the long-winded history of the candles. Of course Koran wasn't interested in a candle's history. History was an exciting subject for people but for candles it was a boring affair. He came here for the intricately carved candles and the secrets behind them but going to a 'history of candles' seminar and expecting a carving lesson did seem a bit idiotic when he thought it to himself. Maybe the only carving lesson he would receive for the evening were the masterfully carved examples he held in front of him. He greeted the others and was surprised to hear the dark skinned male make a joke, at least it was funny to the young Frostfawn. It actually seemed to make him smile if nothing else and relax if but a bit. He did, after all, enjoy someone who could turn something uninteresting and make it into something else entirely. Such was the way of his people.


He paid more attention to his bought candles and to the dark-skinned male,for Koran only really knew of the race of Vantha since his home of Avanthal was more secluded than most, then to the woman...until she lit those foul candles that was. The smell was the first noticeable thing to Koran as his chocolate brown eyes shifted to a poisonous yellow color that emitted disgust from his strangely colored eyes. Of course if any others noticed this they would probably not know the emotion Koran was feeling. The lecturer insisted on droning on about these primitive candles that smelled horrible. Despite his interest in the candles and their carvings he had no interest in these candles at all or their histories. He contemplated getting up and leaving but found that idea would be rude to the other patrons who seemed to be losing interest quickly as well.

He turned to the dark-skinned man and decided it would be in his own best interest if he negated the lecture and occupied his time and thoughts on other things. Koran was naturally shy and introverted but the sudden urge for socialization was birthed from necessity not want. He did notice the man drawing people. One of them was surprisingly similar to his own visage...or that could just be his mind playing to his own vanity. The man was certainly skilled in his craft. “I noticed your drawings, you are a painter?” He said trying to deduce the nature of his artistic talents. He knew many artisans in Avanthal who could take a piece of charcoal and make the most beautiful replicas of the snowy environment he had ever witnessed. Still others could capture a bird in flight in a stationary piece of wood that you would swear was moving. He wondered if this man were on the same level as those or perhaps even higher. Even if he wasn't his skill was still impressive.

The others seemed to be conversing amongst themselves as well, he let out a barely audible groan as the dark cloaked figure asked a question of the lecturer. Like this needed to be any longer than it had to be. On the other hand Koran could not fault the gentleman for his thirst for knowledge, it certainly wasn't an odd thing to find int his city he realized. In fact knowledge seekers seemed commonplace here. The red-haired woman acknowledged his candles which he in turn nodded and gave a small smile but nothing more. The hadn't met people like this before. In Avanthal it was mostly Kelvic and Vantha who populated the city. The red hair of the woman was never seen and the incredibly dark skin of the male wasn't present either. He suspected they were either from different regions or were of different races. The dark cloaked person mentioned he was from a place called Kalinor...wherever that was. As of yet Koran had only been to Avanthal and forcefully dragged into Lhavit. Kalinor was a new region to him that meant almost nothing...yet he seemed to remember hearing stories of the place but he couldn't remember any of them just that it was somewhat familiar and yet unfamiliar at the same time. Stories weren't unfamiliar to Vantha culture...and he couldn't keep track of all the stories he had heard throughout his life. He took one more glance around the room and noticed a few people dozing off. He would go the same way if something didn't happen rather quickly...like getting to carving or the artistry of candles...or lighting some other candles that didn't smell like a rotting whale carcass!!!

[Savos]

It was interesting to note that the nature of the candle-making event was changing often in relation to Savos. At first, he had simply used it as an excuse to procrastinate, prolonging the moment where he would finally have to make that lonely walk back to his dark little apartment. Then, he had found a unique atmosphere to draw in, though this was interrupted quickly as conversation developed among the people at his table.

Ornea, a girl with red hair, seemed to lead the conversation as she introduced herself immediately to the group. He admired her upstart attitude, finding that it gave her a charm that was well accompanied by her unique colors. Brandon, on the other hand, seemed like a shifty sort of character, and Savos would have thought even more so if he had known what kind of a reputation Kalinor had. The man's dark visage and nervous posture made Savos uneasy, and curious as to why such a reserved creature would present themselves at such an event. He didn't seem particularly interested by candle-making either.

Then came the repugnant smell. Savos was not much of a fan of the smell of candles in the first place, preferring the natural smell of a winter breeze or pine trees, of Lhavit's abundant flowers or of the ocean waves on the sea. Candles made a shoddy attempt at imitating these things, he found, though he appreciated the effort. These “old-times” candles made no particular effort at all, smelling exactly like the carcasses of the animals used to procure them, and worse.

Even Koran, who had been so fascinated earlier, seemed uninterested. Since Koran was nearest him, he engaged in further conversation beyond their introductions. He felt somewhat abashed when the man started admiring his drawings, always feeling particularly self-conscious about them when one of his subjects noticed the doodles. He was always worried that they would not approve of the way he drew a certain feature or other, if if he got something wrong in the visage. Portraits were always a challenge in this way, as one's face could change completely if a single line was off in the drawing.

“Not a painter,” Savos said with a smile, glad that Koran had not mentioned the drawing being of him, “I work as a tattoo artist, at the moment. ” He wondered whether the man knew of the nature of the tattoos, as the art form was only popular in very specific parts of Mizahar.

”How did you end up here?” his tone ambiguously suggested that he spoke either of the strange lecture on candle-making history or of Lhavit in general. He was curious on both accounts, and since he was unsure as to whether Koran was from elsewhere or a local, he figured this would be the easiest way to the acquire such information.

Brandon, the character who had already put him at unease earlier, very quickly got on a certain bad side of Savos. Though Savos would not rationally dislike someone for simply being a little curious, his wanting for the lecture to be over as quickly as possible had suddenly put given him a sense of enmity toward Brandon, though he tried to dispose of the feeling. It was silly to think badly of him for simply posing a question, but he could not deny that his initial impression of the shady figure was quick to dampen in the timing of the whole situation.

[Ornea]

Iskiraya Mifune turned her gaze on Brandon. “Young man” she said “I’m happy to see that I have an interested audience ! You are asking what the difference is between these crude and clumsy old stinking primitive rushlights and today’s sophisticated candles ? The difference is huge! ”

The opportunity to engage in an animated discussion with Brandon seemed to fuel her and she started on a long and detailed in depth explanation of the process of “harvesting” fat and making the primitive candles. This included a few things that some would maybe not find so pleasant, but the lecturer spoke on with professional zeal and didn’t shy away for describing it all with an amazing exactness.

This was needed, she said, in order to make them able to fully appreciate the difference between then and now. “The history of candle making is about many small details.” She pointed at the two elaborate candles Koran had bought. “There you have a couple of excellent examples of modern candle making gone art. We will get the higher levels of today’s candle art eventually, but it would be wrong to jump directly to the front end of candle making without first touching upon all the highly interesting milestones in the history. But don’t worry, I will make sure to find time for today’s important progress as well as the fascinating things of the past !”

She pulled out an hourglass from a box on the shelf behind her. It was a quite big item, clear glass in dark wooden frame, with white sand trickling down from the upper part in a small slow stream. It was easy for the audience to see that that about ¾ of the sand still remained in the upper part of the hourglass and Iskiraya told them this meant they luckily had plenty of time to delve deeper into the topic of the day. “No worries. The time isn’t out until all the sand is down. ”

Ornea had listened and watched and she certainly felt worried when she saw all that sand that represented time that remained of the lecture. She moaned silently inside, but she didn't show her feelings to the people around her and the lecturer. She was wishing that she hadn’t decided to attend this seminar. But she wasn’t going to show weakness and be the first one to give up. Oh no. Not her. She glanced around cautiously in search of signs that somebody else was about to give up and take the shame of being first to bail...the man with the carved candles has seemed like a possible first leaver, but now he had been given attention for his candles and promised more information about them, and Ornea feared this might mean his interest was going up.

So. Savos, the dark skinned artist, he would perhaps be the one. She studied him, just brief glances she hoped to conceal from him in order to not seem overly curious. An artist of some kind. Artists had bad patience with things like this milling lecture about production details, she thought. At least some artists. To be honest she could get totally absorbed in metalworking technique and some of it was quite artistic.

Edging a bit closer to Savos she whispered “Is she serious? Does she really intend to go on like this for all that time ? I must admit I can think of many better things to do than sit here and ... “

Iskiraya Mifune pounced on the audience at once, like she had been waiting for something like this to happen. “But I will not just speak and speak and speak and speak !” She clapped her hands resolutely, picked up the bell again and used it.

Ping !

Some silent whispering here and there faded out again, while the lecturer explained that it was time for a an interesting experiment that would show them things, which was so much more enlightening than just listening to words. “You there, young man, please step up and hold this candle for me” she said, pointing at Brandon. She took a big round dark blue candle from the shelf behind her where she kept her lecture materials. It was a perfect sphere, with a wick on the top of it. She put in on the spider-legged table.

Iskiraya seemed to take it for granted that Brandon would oblige. Ornea wasn’t as sure. But she looked at Brandon with a feeling that it served him right, to be singled out as volunteer for Iskiraya’s little show. She felt it was suitable punishment for having prolonged the part about the stinking old rushlights with his question.

If Brandon would do as he had been told, the lecturer would start by adjusting his position in order to make him stand exactly right for the task. After this she would take his hands, turn them with the palms up like a bowl in front of him, put the globe shaped dark blue candle in his hands and light it. Otherwise, if he didn't step up, she would leave the candle on the table for now.

“The rest of you can start this exercise by telling me the greatest weaknesses of three things. Yourselves, your workplaces and Lhavit. This is part of the exercise in enlightenment we will do. Because candles are about light, and this exercise about light, darkness and enlightenment will explain a great deal about the history of candle making. “

Some excitement, curiosity and complete confusion was maybe spreading in the audience now, but the lecturer dismissed all tries to ask questions. She pointed at the shop owner and asked him to start. As he was the one who was hosting the event and took the most interest in the topic he wanted to obey and answered promptly. “My own greatest weakness is that I like good food and tend to eat a bit too much. My business ... I’ve got to say it’s the daily cash, which I have to watch all the time...” At this point he shot a glance at the counter where he used to stand when he sold candles; obviously the place where he kept the daily cash right now. He cleared his throat. “For Lhavit I would say the greatest weakness is that there can be some really bad storms once in a while and as the city is so high up on the peaks it can be vulnerable to lightning.”

“Thanks”. Iskiraya smiled benevolently at the man. “Lightning is of course impossible to control. A great weakness. And the daily cash ...” She laughed. ”You prosaic businessman you, thinking of money” she said with a mischievous wink at him.

“Next please ! You there with the red hair! It’s your turn!”

She was pointing at Ornea. The Inarta didn’t like the exercise much, but as the shop owner had already set an example she answered, though somewhat reluctantly. “My own greatest weakness is kind of an allergy to magic, you could say. “ She didn’t mention that it was about overgiving. No need to tell the whole world about this. “For my workplace, Lucis and Lucis I would say the greatest weakness is maybe ... the automated transportations, as it would be a nightmare to need to transport heavy materials yourself ” She wasn’t totally sure of this, as she was a brand new trialist at her work, but she felt she had to come up with something. It would do.

“Lhavit’s greatest weakness ... ought to be ...”

She didn’t know. She didn't have the slightest idea. But she had started to answer, so she desperately wanted to end the sentence and not come off as a goof. Then it struck her all of a sudden and she said it quickly and loudly, eager to get it done and over with :

“The water pumps at Lucis ! If something would happen to the pumps, or if they were poisoned or something, this city would be in really big trouble.”

Iskiaraya thanked Ornea for her answer and looked around. Possibly she would even expect an answer from Brandon, despite how she was already tasking him with being her experiment assistant. She would ask them all, and listen to their answers. After this the enlighening experiment would start.

...

[Brandon Blackwing]

And there were lots of killing glares sent his way for sure, if they’d had the power do just that, Brandon Blackwing would have died lots of times, not only today. But there was one person who did the exact opposite; beaming him a smile brighter than Syna’s rays. Miss Mifune started rattling off facts and trivia, describing just about every aspect of those old candles she could think of, not even neglecting to touch the subject of how the materials were harvested and actually producing the candles. The lecturer added lots of details, some vile enough to make one of the spectators’ face turn pale.

While the bat was adequate enough at hiding his own feelings not to show what he was thinking, he actually regretted his actions, now having to survive the ordeal of listening to what Iskiraya Mifune was describing and speaking about, not being allowed to slack off. Every so often the woman would shoot him a glance as well, as if to confirm if he really was paying attention. Much to his own dismay, she just didn’t stop talking, going on and on about the whole thing for chimes, only pausing now and then to take a breath. The only thing the bat could be content about was having dragged the rest of them along with him, though they weren’t observed that much. In the end, he’d hurt himself the most,… probably. Well, that did not seem to be the case, gauging from the others’ expressions. A smirk emerged.

Eventually though –finally- the lecturer ceased her verbal assault and turned away, rummaging in a box for a while. The Kelvic let out a mental sigh which was reflected in the slightly slumping motion of his body. He shouldn’t have asked, it was better to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the time, lest she started explaining trivial matters with such dreadful and horrendous exactness. Her face displaying an even wider smile than just a tick or two ago, Iskiraya Mifune turned back to the audience, holding a large hourglass. While sand streamed down slowly and it seemed they’d have to sit here and listen for at least three times the past duration still. Mifune’s excitement about this fact wasn’t reflected by the audience, moans and whispers arose, so too did they at Brandon’s table. The redhead –Ornea was it?- appeared to have absolutely no more will to stay, complaining to the tall artist with hushed voice.

Brandon nodded in agreement. “No worries,” he whispered, “I’ll do something about this.” He would be lying if he said he didn’t expect at least a few quizzical stares and doubtful glances, but he meant what he had voiced; he too didn’t feel up for sitting around much longer. A glance was cast to the hourglass, which the lecturer had placed on top of the box. Hmm… about three quarters of sand remaining… tsk,I’ll have to wait a bit longer, otherwise it will be noticed right away. Indeed, if he was to turn the hourglass immediately, there would be too little sand in the top half compared to the previous time one had glanced at it. Therefore it was better to wait a bit longer, until about sixty percent remained. The reduction wouldn’t be a lot, but it was better than having to stay until the very end. The only problem though was how to reach the item; between him and the sandglass there were at least three steps and a lecturer, so it was quite impossible to go over there unnoticed. Damn.

However, Mifune presented the solution to his troubles herself, asking for his assistance in holding an orb-shaped candle. “Gladly,” he smirked as he raised himself and strode over to the woman, subtly positioning himself close to the shelf with the box on top of it, back facing towards that spot. Mifune wanted him a little more to the left though, gently pushing him where she wanted him to be and then made him cup his hands before placing the blue orb in them and lighting the wick. Still, he could easily reach the sandglass if the woman turned away, and he wouldn’t hesitate to ‘change time’ a little.

There was more nonsense on the way, as Mifune desired the audience to give their opinion of the greatest weakness of themselves, their workplace and the city. Well, good thing he didn’t have to do it, he was playing girandole already. Yet, after listening to what the rest of her audience had to say, Iskiraya turned to him expectantly and was met with a sigh. Alright then. “My greatest weakness is…” A frown, did he have a weakness? Did she mean physical or mental? He was fairly sure he didn’t have a flaw in regards to the latter, and in case of the former he was planning to use them to his advantage. Knowing one’s weaknesses made one dangerous after all. “My greatest weakness is my greatest strength,” came his reply with a shrug. What else? Workplace? That was Lhavit… but maybe the houses in particular. “My workplace … ehm, its greatest flaw is that … err…… well…” Hmmm, maybe it was best to admit he didn’t have a job? Not a legal one anyway. “Heh, I don’t exactly work so I have no idea.” He said it with a plain face, it wasn’t like he actually cared. “And Lhavit’s greatest weakness is that they rely too much on Zintila.” There, it was done. A sideways glare was shot to the hourglass. About sixty-five percent left… he’d turn it if he had to return to his seat.

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Credit goes to Ollic