[Stone Garden] An Unexpected Song [Devlin]

[Hadrian]

"Well, I've taught myself many things without a teacher. It's slower going, and I suppose there are the bad habits to weed out later, but it's possible." He nodded, thoughtful. "Oh, I'm probably not very musical. "I think it was the mathematics involved that intrigued me at first, but then I started to wonder about the... the soul behind it. I'm entirely too caught up in my head, and I thought music might remind me that I have a heart. Hopefully." He smiled, a little awkward, but trying to be friendly and somewhat open. There didn't seem to be a point in talking about his magical interest in music just yet. Many people were distrustful of magic considering the Valterrian and all, even if his work was sponsored by the Order of the Knights of Syliras. One might even posit that music was magical. Certainly the djed reacted to it, not quite so readily as an Eyktolian cobra, but still... "I don't suppose I had better quit my day job, eh?"

[Devlin Parker]

Hadrian's comment was intriguing to say the least, and he wasn't sure how he should respond to it, or if he even respond at all and instead just smile politely. Once again he went on about the mathematics, which was what had led Devlin to assume he wasn't familiar with music in the first place. He placed the mandoline quietly on his lap since it didn't seem as though they were going to go for a second round, and a small silence ensued, and Hadrian's clear eyes appeared to be momentarily lost in thought. "I don't suppose I had better quit my day job, eh?" he finally said, breaking the silence between the two.

He let out an awkward laugh at the joke, and said, "Day job, huh... What do you do for a living, then?" Judging by the man's build, he didn't seem like he was in a business that required muscle, so he guessed the man must be a scholar or merchant of sorts.

[Hadrian]

Once again, Hadrian seemed to be missing the essence of music. He could pick it apart like a scholar, but Devlin seemed to have the soul of it. Perhaps it was something Hadrian could learn, but it might have to be with his underdeveloped heart rather than his overdeveloped brain. "I, um..." He didn't know why he always felt the need to obfuscate his magical practices. This wasn't a city where they would get him killed unless he endangered the populace or property, which he didn't. "Currently I'm magecrafting things for the Order. But it's all contract work for the Knights. They have one of my old professors on as their official magecrafter, so I'll probably soon be on my way. "What about you? What do you do for a living?"

[Devlin Parker]

His eyes widened momentarily as Hadrian's uttered a semi-unexpected answer. He had already judged that the man must be more involved in the art of acquiring knowledge rather than physical labor, but magic... magic was an entirely different story. He didn't even know anything on the subject, so he didn't see a way to follow up on this newly acquired information. Still, he felt rather fascinated, quickly recalling the common legends he knew, how all of them would involve this surreal practice, how easily it could cause tremendous consequences upon the entirety of Mizahar.

Somewhat lost in thought, Hadrian's question caught him off guard, and he stuttered in his response. "Eh.. Nothing fancy, such as yourself, I usually just help around the city as I can, but my father will not let me get a job until I am of age, due to my... disability. I am turning sixteen in a few weeks though, so I hope to start as soon as possible."

[Hadrian]

Hadrian struggled with a sudden impulse. Devlin was a kind boy, nearly sixteen, but probably easier than a grown man to influence. Curious, Hadrian attempted to pull more out of him. His skills at hypnotism were meager, but sometimes a little bit at the right time could do more than greater skill at the wrong time. "What would you like to do for a living?" he asked, a faint overlay to his voice most likely only detectable or discernible by another hypnotist. It was no attempt to overpower Devlin's mind, just an emanation of trust and calm and a desire to talk. Hadrian would listen. He brought the flute to his lips and began to play lazy chord progressions, quietly, his mind letting his fingers wander where they would while he wove his djed into the music, trying to put Devlin at his ease the way Eyktolian snake-charmers did. It might just explode in his face. He certainly didn't wish to hurt Devlin, but it seemed like an ideal opportunity to experiment, and even if it worked beyond his estimation and Devlin poured his heart and soul out to him, he promised himself he would not take advantage of that information.

[Devlin Parker]

The question was a simple one, as Devlin only had a few skills he could make money with. "I can be a performer. I've already made a few mizas playing in the streets in the past." As he uttered his answer, he felt the same bitterness he would feel when he spoke of his future, like he had nothing ahead of him. Strangely enough, the way the man asked him the question made Devlin feel as though he could not disregard this negative sensation as he usually would. Even though he generally spoke very openly, thoughts came rushing into his mind that he would only daydream about, and he felt inexplicably compelled to voice these very thoughts.

"Ugh, who am I kidding. I should be back in Wind Reach, doing something useful for a change... All I know how to do is play music, but who gives a petch about art when the world is so damned upside down. I can't do shyke because of this freakin' leg." He couldn't understand why he was telling all of this to a stranger, but it didn't feel unnatural since these were words he thought everyday and merely left unspoken. Why not blow some steam on someone he barely knew? Maybe he was just at his breaking point. He put his hand down on the paralyzed thigh, and as usual, couldn't feel it. It felt as though he simply had a useless heavy object attached to him, so foreign that he barely considered it a leg at all. Despite having lived with it for almost 16 years, the boy had never come to terms with his handicap, and as he was so open for the first time about it, his mind scrambled for supposed solutions.

Maybe if I started praying to the gods... He thought to himself, resorting to the the supernatural to fix a problem nature had caused him. Suddenly, in an epiphany, he jerked his head back up, and looking straight into Hadrian's clear eyes, said, " Magic can do all sorts of things, right? You're a wizard, do you think there would be a way to heal me?"

[Hadrian]

Hadrian nodded as he played, acknowledging that Devlin certainly had the skill to be a performer. It occurred to him that the redhead might also teach; several of his professors at the University had made livings as teachers even if they weren't good teachers merely because their skills and knowledge were so impressive. When Devlin suddenly shifted in his narrative, loosing some bitter vitriol, Hadrian shifted to a minor key that seemed more appropriate, and perhaps might hypnotize this release to continue. He listened thoughtfully. As an anthropologist, he was interested in art for what it could say about a culture. As a human, he appreciated beauty. He wondered if that was enough. But when Devlin suddenly fixed on him as a possible savior, Hadrian's long fingers stopped moving over the keys. His breath retreated from the instrument, and he let it rest in his lap. Hadrian believed in magic and human invention, but he didn't want to lie to this kid. "I'm not a healer, but... why don't you tell me more about it, what you know about your malady. I might be able to help you in the right direction."

[Devlin Parker]

Hadrian's response and the stopping of the music that Devlin hadn't even realized was there snapped him out of his reverie, and he quickly felt both embarrassed and angry at himself for sounding like such a desperate child to the stranger. His cheeks flushed red and he immediately averted his eyes, frowning in confusion. Why the hell did I say that, he repeated to himself in his mind. His eyes darted around completely flustered, and barely hearing what the man had to say, he stuttered out a vague response.

"It's- It's nothing, really," He said, fumbling around for his cane, his ears almost as red as his hair. He couldn't tell whether he was infuriated with himself, humiliated, or both, but now he just wanted to leave. Taking the mandoline out of his lap, he heaved himself off the bench with the cane, and hastily turned to the man, not daring to look back into his piercing blue eyes. "Was a real pleasure meeting you, I have to get back home now, hope you don't give up practicing that flute," He spoke as if there were a fire nearby, and wished there was, for that would have be a more legitimate excuse for him to get out of there.

[Hadrian]

"I'm... sorry..." he said, surprised at the quick reversal. "Thank you for your help." But Devlin was already hurrying off, so Hadrian glumly put the flute back to his lips and picked up on a simple song he barely remembered, perhaps some lullaby about a long lost love or something similarly tragic. The minor keys were prominent, and he was careful if not perfect in his execution. But he also tried to pick up the feel of what he was doing before, pushing his own energies out through his aura to mingle with Devlin's if he wasn't too far away. He didn't want to force information out of him, but he tried to lure him back and calm him down. But this required intense concentration on his part to the point where he wasn't even aware if Devlin came back or had gone.

[Devlin Parker]

Hearing the flute in the background as he walked further away, Devlin wondered why the music sounded so much better than when he had entered the stone garden earlier, as though it was beckoning for him to come back. Regardless, he had already made up his mind, and turning back was not something a person with such trouble walking was accustomed to doing. With that resolve, he simply walked forward, not to keen on seeing the magician again.

Magician, huh... He thought to himself, wondering whether he should have been more afraid or more respectful. Perhaps he should have stuck around despite the humiliation to learn more about the ancient discipline, it might have serve him well since it was one of the only practices that didn't necessarily require physical labor. Maybe later, when the blood would stop rushing to his brain, the boy would feel a little regret for leaving so early. He should have tried to learn more from the man instead of spilling out his emotional insecurities. "What's done is done," he said aloud, convincing himself of the fact, and walking onward.