[Flashback][Orchid Market] First Encounter [Vizyous]

[Velarian Zantedeschia]

Season of Winter, Day 71, 501 AV
Location: Velarian's Home & Orchid Market

Silence had become the most prominent quality of the room. Dominant it lingered in the air, near tangible in its density. Even the rare sound of paper rustling and the faint voices drifting over from other parts of the residence were more inclined to emphasize the calm than to break it. A quiet cough would ring out loud and clear in such peace, but it was a female voice which pierced the brooding stillness in the end.

"You should go out."

At his desk Velarian turned. He had been looking through sheets and drawings sprawled out over the desk, notes written in his father's meticulous handwriting, now his eyes wandered to the old Symenestra woman half leaning against the door frame. Nassana was two years older than his father, who was rather old himself. She had never married, instead teaching the children of her family the art of weaving. In his youth he had come to fear her sharp tongue, yet since the birth of his son the woman seemed to have grown soft.

Now she watched him with an expression the young man was not quite able to interpret. "Davariel sleeps. Your sister has an eye on him," she informed him with the same stoic face she would have told him he made a mistake weaving the loom as a child. His aunt was all and foremost a practical individual.

Her nephew breathed out, almost irritated. "Alone?" Suddenly his attention seemed to shift entirely from the parchment piling before him towards the Symenestra woman.

Nassana made a dismissive gesture. "Watching a sleeping baby is no hard task," she enlightened the young man almost absently as she continued into the room. Her silken robe played around her ankles – despite her age she had lost little of the grace she once possessed. "Talking about leaving the house. You have stayed here for the better part of the season and I thought you might want to go to the market for me. Paid a basket for the next three days and I need someone to have an eye on it."

Ruby eyes wandered back to the desk. "I will go tomorrow." Slender fingers reach out for a sheet of parchment. "Or the day after," he decided after a moment of consideration.

"Or not at all?," the woman asked with a risen eyebrow. "You will go. Today."

Velarian found Orchard Market in a state of brisk activity. It was still early in the morning and most every basket had been rented by a Symenestra willing to sell this or that, goods self crafted or items bought from the rare merchants visiting the city. Some hunters' relatives advertised the meat of deers and hares and fowl caught above and a lone member of the Aconite made sure every used stall was paid for.

In the next two hours the place would grow more quiet, when the vendors returned to their daily business, but for now the area was bustling with men and women acquiring whatever they needed for living.

Looking around Velarian stepped of the red silk rope marking Kalinor's main street – the only way foreigners and half breeds would be comfortably able to travel around the city – onto the market. Good three dozen stalls were dangling from the ceiling, their colors indicating the goods they held. The young animator set out for a green one, the box his aunt would rent every time she had fabric or clothing to sell.

It did not take him long to set the stall up, to place the silk and linen rolls he had brought with him in the baskets, to lay out some of the dresses Nassana had sewn. Finally he also added a few pieces he had animated, two scarfs coiling like lazy snake when worn, a dress animated to sway around its wearers feet.

Glancing over the goods a last time, Velarian turned to his first customers.

[Vizyous Aconitum]

A small figure weaved around the constantly moving individuals, brushing against the soft silks of the crowd's clothing without a mutter of apology. The boy was just a couple handful of days past eleven, although the added year did nothing to sooth his insolent, amethyst gaze. Vizyous' mother had dressed in him red silk that was expertly sewed into a one-piece, quarter-sleeves draping off of his arms and pant legs ending just below the knee to expose the deep blue cloth wrapped around his pale, slim limbs. His usually unruly shoulder-length hair was meticulously braided into small locks held together by golden hair bands, not a strand of gray out of place. From above, the boy could have appeared to have two shadows following behind him, his younger brother dressed in the blue of a night sky trying to keep up with Vizyous' hurried pace. Dinvidus obliviously chased after the older boy who was walking so fast in hope of losing the younger. The frantic, similarly dressed child was only a few years younger than himself, and Vizyous wasn't worried about the him being able to take care of himself and find his way back home should he get lost in the crowd. Even if he couldn't, no doubt another Symenestra would help the little boy reach his Web. By the time that Vizyous had begun to advance up the wall of the Orchid Market, his younger brother wasn't nearby him any longer and didn't appear even after he waited a while, suspended by bare hands and feet against the dank rock. Dinvidus would be fine, he was sure, and with that thought in mind Vizyous continued further up the cave, eyes scanning for an interesting stall. In the pocket of the frock his mother had forced him into was a small amount of coins given to him so he could buy himself and his brother something nice. With a snicker, Vizyous traveled towards a weaver's stall, his amethyst eyes having caught sight of it's merchant setting up fabric bundles and clothing. Appearance was the last thing that the young boy worried about, however he wasn't planning on buying anything. A playful grin stretched across his face and without any warning, the boy grabbed hold of the strong material that held the green stall to the ceiling of the cave. With his light weight there was no danger of the material weakening, but that didn't stop him from trying his best to make the stall swing back and forth. Vizyous' efforts of stubbornly throwing his weight against the bind resulted in just the slightest movement of the stall below, and a triumphant grin followed by a giggle broke loose, his head craning eagerly to look down at the merchant to see his reaction. He loved messing with the traders.

[Velarian Zantedeschia]

Today Orchid Market was too loud for Velarian's taste, the noises of everyday life not apt to lift his gloomy mood. Around him people went about their daily business, walking and talking and chatting with traders. Most men and women regularly selling goods were well known, their goods however were subject to change, depending on a hunters luck, the season, the fact if foreign merchants had found their way to the city or not. Just a year ago he had eagerly waited the day to commend his first creations to the public, automatons he had crafted himself, without his father's help. Now such desires felt banal compared with last seasons events. He breathed out, realizing his sour expression drove away customers.

Pretending to not have seen any of it the young man turned towards the stall. He was about to place a spool of silk thread into the stall when a sudden shake knocked the yarn from his hand. With a soft clicking the spool bounce off the ground twice before the momentum carried it out into the market. A moment Velarian watched it roll between people's feet, then it was kicked out of sight. The man sighed. Without doubt the item would find its place among the multitude of waste covering the cavern floor, useless to him and anyone else. He did not even consider to look for it. Would not have done so for a thing far more expensive than the piece of sewing supply valuing little more than a few copper rimmed coins.

Leaning back his ruby eyes came to search the ceiling. His gaze leveled on the slender frame of a boy, the child's hands closed around the rope fixing the green stall to the rock above. If the animator was to guess, he would have said the little prankster was enjoying himself. He was also aware that the youth was pretty much out of reach unless he started climbing himself.

"Don't I know you?," he asked instead, studying the child's face. You can not be much older than eleven, the animator judged. Old enough for Velarian to have run into him before his self imposed solitude, he decided. Still, he did not remember the lad's name. He could not say he cared much for it either in this very second.

"Does your mother know what you are doing here?" The man made two casual steps towards the basket, resting a hand against its side. "I am sure she could find a occupation better suited for you, than unnerving merchants." A couple of tasks came to his mind, most he would have loath in his youth and partly still did. Working the loom for several hours could wear the most defiant spirit down, Velarian could tell from experience. He did not wish the child a day weaving, yet he failed to find the same amusement in the happened as the boy now looking down on him.

"Are you coming down?," the man inquired, leaning just lightly against the stall. He was almost certain the rope would carry basket and goods, him and the boy at the same time. Watching the boy he waited.

[Vizyous Aconitum]

When the merchant looked up him, Vizyous' smile faded a bit, replaced slowly by a pout. It was so much more fun when the owners were too dimwitted to look up, instead looking around as if another stall had bumped into theirs. The child recognized the ruby-eyed Symenestra below only barely, not able to place a name on him even if he cared enough to.

"I don't know you," Vizyous answered him, his voice loud enough that the merchant below would be able to hear him, yet quiet enough that it wouldn't bring too much attention to himself. The boy did not want to attract any unwanted attention should his mother find out about what he did in his spare time. At the mention of his mother, Vizyous felt a slight flush come to his face, reacting in a way that was common for a flustered, embarrassed child that didn't want to be told on.

"I-I might come down, if you don't tell her!" His confidence returned just a bit, "But I don't have any money, and it's pretty fun up here." Vizyous grinned, realizing that unless the weaver wanted to abandon his goods, he wouldn't climb up after him. The man didn't look too threatening, though-- maybe he thought that the child would buy something. "Are you coming up?" He asked in return, pulling himself further up the rope only once before giggling.

His little jokes were put away for later as he began descending the rope, though, bringing himself closer to the figure leaning against the edge of the stall. The man looked to not be mad, but the child was cautious as he came within an arms distance of him.

[Velarian Zantedeschia]

Mentioning his mother seemed to wake some sense in the boy. For a moment the animator believed to read apprehension in the child's face, but the impression only lasted so long. It would have been too nice, Velarian thought sourly, his eyes still on the little imp grinning down on him. How sure he was of himself. The young man shook his head.

"I don't think I will. Climb up, that is."

He was nigh certain the stall's rope would carry their amassed weight, mostly because the baskets were meant to hold considerably heavier goods than the little fabric and clothing he had brought this morning. However, he was concerned his aunt's product would start flying left and right out onto the market, sharing the fate of the wayward thread spool he had lost earlier. Instead of scaling the box' side his hand grabbed the roof a little tighter, making sure it would not start swinging when the boy moved.

"Maybe I should shake you down though?," Velarian mused aloud, glancing up to the youth. He would not do it, of course. While the boy was just one arm's length away and chances were good the man would be able to catch the child even when it fell – it was just not worth the risk. Symenestra learned to climb well from an early age onward, had no chance not to, seeing it was a requirement to navigate the city to its full extent, but their bones were fragile. Easy to break. The animator could not get himself to endanger the young troublemaker.

He did want to give the child a scare though. A moment he seemed about to give the basket a little push, then he just took a step back. "Or you just stay up there. See if I care."

His attention shift to a woman about to approach the stall only to see her back away a second later. When the animator had to guess he would have said she did not want to get involved in his absolute minor crusade against mischief maker. He could not help but feel a bad for his aunt. She would not make a lot of miza today. At the same turn Velarian welcomed the distraction from his earlier brooding.

Again his gaze locked with the boy above his head. Insolent. He could not remember to have ever been so cheeky, not when he had been in the boys age, not later. Velarian was willing to bet his own son would never...

Suddenly he breathed out. Did I just decide to argue with a twelve year old?

Before him two girls emerged from the crowd of traders and customers, then stopped, hesitant. The young man muttered under his breath, then looked up to the boy. "Hey! How about to have an eye on the stall for a minute? I am right back." With that the he continued towards the young women, a casual smile spreading over his face.

[Vizyous Aconitum]

At the vendor's mention of shaking him down, Vizyous let out the tiniest of squeaks and held onto the thick rope, eyes darting down to see if he was truly going to do it. His hands wrapped tight around the material when the man was about to start, a sour pout coming over Vizyous when he realized it was only an attempt to scare him, and it had worked. Funny enough, though, the man seemed to be getting riled up a bit.

"You should care." Vizyous boldly remarked when he saw the potential customer's eyes dart between himself and the fabric seller, quickly assessing the situation before backing away from the stall. The merchant caught sight of what had happened, too, and turned back towards him with something that seemed to resemble bewilderment within his red eyes.

Just as he was about to make his way closer to the stall, the man suddenly barked an order at him to watch the stall while he was away. Before Vizyous could have a chance to answer in the negative and aggravate him, the man was off, attending to two customers. Muttering to himself about how he was always stuck with watching things, the boy made his way onto the basket, taking a moment to adjust to being on ground once again.

Sometimes, the boy forgot which was floor and which was ceiling, considering that both could be reached and climbed. It confused him sometimes, making him second guess whether he should be on all-fours or if it was okay to stand on two feet. The clothing and fabric stall he was keeping watch over was definitely safe to be standing in, though, and Vizyous leaned back against the edge, watching the merchant try and make a sale.

Why anyone needed fabric so badly, the boy didn't know. His mother was always fussing over what he wore and how he presented himself, getting so worked up over matching patterns and colors. It seemed she cared more about image than substance, leading her children to be troublemakers or equally narcissistic-- at least, that was what Vizyous blamed his attitude on.

The boys gaze went from the seller to the stall, glancing at fabric with disinterest and then catching sight of little spools of different colored thread, an equally small smile gracing his lips. Vizyous liked color, it contrasted so nicely with the darkness of Kalinor and reminded him of the world that was above their underground caverns. His hand raised towards the collection just slightly before lowering back down to his side, looking both ways to make sure no one had witnessed his embarrassing fascination with the thread, gaze finally settling on the merchant once again.

[Velarian Zantedeschia]

Velarian could not have said why he asked the child to have an eye on the stall. A boy with mischief on his mind was a thinkable bad choice to watch over goods meant to be sold. Especially in a city were few people had to resolve to thievery to make a living, the obvious risk out weight the potential benefit. He did it still, without a second thought.

The two woman he engaged were young, around his age, one with hair as pale as fresh fallen snow, the other one dark haired with large golden eyes. The later he recognized as the woman he had seen with his bother lately, down at the blue grotto and once or twice in the tavern. His sister had told him her name once, but as so often these past two seasons he had hardly paid attention to such details. Now he cursed himself for not recalling her name. Studying her face for the slightest of moment he realized she remembered who he was – judging from the cautious smile curling her lips.

There had been blood between his older brother and Velarian lately, yet he was surprised to see that the girl his brother had set an eye on already knew about their quarrel. His own smile turned wayward for just the blink of an eye. Instantly he replaced it with a friendly mask he had trained to put on at will when still younger, an expression solemn meant for customers and potential buyers. Warm but facile and far from genuine.

"Velarian, right? I have wanted to meet you for a while."

In contrast to his own attempt her smile bordered on honesty and her eyes shone curious. The young man had to admit, staying so close before her, she was a pleasant sight. Younger than his brother but not more than three or four years he suddenly wondered how casual her relationship with his brother actually was. For no particular reason, the idea the two of them might share more than just common interest or youthful affection for each other, annoyed him.

"The pleasure is on my side," he said with a smirk. "Although I have to admit my brother forgot to mention your name." It was no lie. He had not talked with his brother in almost two months. That he had forgotten her name though was his own fault. Velarian felt strangely pleased to see her smile falter for just a second.

"Syvana. And this one of my friends. Vasseri." She smiled, gestured towards the young woman at her side. "Your brother said you would weave some incredible scarfs. They almost seem alive if he is to be believed."

Woven. Not animated. It seemed to put people's mind at ease to think a piece was just well woven, rather than infused with some sort of magic. Velarian could not have said why. He rarely bothered to correct such mistakes.

"I would be glad to show you one or two," he suggested with a nod towards the stall. Not waiting for her answer he turned around already, glad to escape from her vicinity, her casual, friendly attitude. Back at the stall the animator glanced toward Vizyous, surprised to find everything, including boy and goods still at its place. About to remind the boy to not touch anything he just shrugged, reaching for two scarfs above the child's head.

"Seems you are really good at this," he said with the smallest of smiled, before returning to the two woman.

When he came heading back to Vizyous some minutes later, one of the scarfs was gone, instead Velarian seemed rather pleased with himself. And somewhat strained. He could not believe he had just been invited to his brother's engagement. With a little more force than necessary he threw the remaining scar back on its hook. It wasn't until then, his eyes came to settle on the youth once more.

[Vizyous Aconitum]

Vizyous was mostly indifferent towards the man's acknowledgement, cheeks reddening slightly despite his wishes. It wasn't often that he received compliments, even small, insignificant ones. As much of a trickster as he was, the work put into making and selling goods wasn't lost on him, and the young boy wouldn't steal something because of that. He watched as a scarf was snatched up by the merchant and delivered to his customers, the man seeming to know at least one of them. As friendly and delighted as the merchant seemed, the look on his face when he returned after the sale wasn't as delighted as it had appeared when talking to the women. Being two-faced wasn't a new concept to Vizyous, having seen the way his mother changed face for public appearance. Ironically, her son had also picked up on the habit and easily deceived her in order to get what he wanted. That was why it was so important his family didn't find out about his tricks, his true personality, lest he wanted his freedom taken away; and that meant no secret trips to the outside world above Kalinor. "Do you know them?" The boy asked without hesitation, not understanding the meaning of privacy. "The pale one was kinda cute," He commented purposefully, a playful smile resting on his lips. "I think I saw her looking back at you as she left." His amethyst eyes darted towards the direction they'd headed after the sale, looking to see if they were still visible.

[Velarian Zantedeschia]

“Are you not a little young to think about such things?” The animator asked with a amused smile and a last glance over his goods. Everything was in its place. What a pleasant surprise.

Stepping closer the slender men reached into the stall, producing a small wooden box which had been hidden below the fabrics meant to be sold. Opening the lid it revealed a couple of fruits, one and all more than just over ripe, soft, easy to chew.. Velarian picked out a crimson red strawberry before holding the casket towards the boy for him to make a pick if he so wanted. Then he put the box down, still open.

“I don’t know either very well,” he admit, turning to see the two woman leave. Syvana wore her new scarf around the shoulders, the ends of the delicate fabric waving behind her, although no wind was to be felt. Neither she nor her friend looked back however and a moment later Velarian turned around towards Vizyous.

“Syvana - the dark haired one - has been meeting with my brother in the past few months.”

I should know more about her than I do, the animator decided quietly and yet felt no desire to learn anymore about her than he already knew. He was sure his sister would tell him whatever he wanted to know, truths and rumors and things she had heard on the market and else were but he realized he did not truly care.

He reached for another piece of fruit, a pear this time. “And I am sure the other one did not look in my direction either. Not on purpose anyway.”

Velarian could not imagine that to be true. Not in the way the boy had implied. Not that he had cared even if it had been the case. He looked down the pear in his hand, taking a small bite. Although the fruit’s flesh was soft and sweet it was still harder to bite than the berry he had eaten a moment ago. Instead of swallowing instantly he waited for his poison to macerate the last hardness remaining. A second later he swallowed, licking his lips.

“Besides, appearance is not everything.” In fact you had very little of it and the woman benefit even less of it. It just led to all sort of complications. And temptations. The animator shook his head, quickly stopping as he remembered he wasn’t alone. It was no topic he wanted to dwell on anyway.

Ruby eyes darted towards the boy, watching him. “How about you? Do you know many people here on the market?” A small smile spread on the man’s face as he continued, “...watching from above?”

The older Symenestra nodded up to the cave’s ceiling and the ropes holding all stalls in place. “I am sure one has a good overview over the market up there. Or is shaking market stalls a new past time of yours?”

Somehow Velarian doubt that to be the case.