Neighbors (Satevis)

[Wrenmae]

Spring 91, 512 AV He woke in the evening, his face still aching dully from where Tock had hit him…and still tired from his adventure with the ghost at the docks. In his dorm room, he rolled across the narrow bed and nearly tipped to the ground. He caught himself at the last moment, muttering before drawing a hand gently across his face. The slap had faded by now, leaving only traces of its original red accusation. His nose, however, throbbed. It was a reminder of last night’s events, events he didn’t remember. By now Tock was probably somewhere else, and he doubted he’d run into her again. He’d likely avoid her and she’d probably go out of her way to do the same for him. Perhaps it was better that way, distancing those he could stand to hurt with his…condition. He pulled himself from out of the covers, murmuring as he stepped onto the cold floor and rummaged through his backpack…the only luggage he had. Settling on a red satin shirt, he pulled it on and a pair of pants along with it. Rubbing his eyes, he shook the remnants of sleep from his head and settled at his window, staring out over the Zeltiva University campus. A few students already dotted the green, taking breaks for dinner or following eccentric professors on their lectures outside. Classes for him started tomorrow, on the first day of Summer. Right now, he was just adjusting. His nose throbbed. Adjusting indeed. He took a little time to himself, rolling off the bed for a moment to try and center himself. As always in these meditative practices, it helped him to summon a bit of the Void to keep him company. Concentrating on that nothingness brought him to an area beyond pain and beyond agony. The wound laid on him by Tock faded as he brought his Djed out into his palm, to swirl in the air above his open fignertips. Slowly, seeing nothingness, eschewing the world around him, he made that small ball of shadow appear. It danced on his open palm, hungry, sucking in tiny motes of dust glimmering in the fading light. Such an interesting little thing, the Void. Always hungry, never full, and never needing sustenance. What was the realm like beyond it? What of the shadows and darkness that are home for this thing? Perhaps...perhaps there would be peace there, a peace none could know save those who died without regret... The thought was unsettling and Wrenmae filled the hole in the air, banishing it immediately. Maybe it would be better if he went out tonight, wander Zeltiva and take in the sights. He felt confined where he was, a small room with only one door…like he was being imprisoned. After his experience in Sunberth, imprisonment was the last thing he wanted to think about again. Shivering the notion out of his skull, Wrenmae opened the door to his dorm and stepped out into the hall. Directly across from him, his neighbor was just getting back to his room, likely in a break between classes…or maybe done for the day. The man was tall, at or topping six feet with tanned skin and a fit form. Wrenmae paled in comparison, smaller and thinner, like a narrow pole against a mountain. But this fellow, wearing the same clothing, was different. Delicate horns curved around the side of his head and he was easily almost a foot taller than the usual resident. His face looked the same, bone structure, general shape, but it couldn’t be…what on earth could explain such a radical change? He remembered back to Lhavit, years ago, the same fair skinned creatures almost flocking to the city. What were they called again? Eth…Eth something. He never had a chance to speak to them. Not then, anyways. “Hey!” he called out, “Hey, excuse me!” His nose must have looked horrible, bruised and dark against his face, but his smile was earnest. He held out a hand, amazed he hadn’t taken the chance to introduce himself sooner. After all, a fellow student that wasn’t Tock might be a good connection to make, especially since he wasn’t altogether familiar with the University standards and practices, much less what constituted a class. “I don’t think we’ve met yet, I’m…erm, I’m your neighbor, Wrenmae. I was heading out but…I dunno, thought I’d say hello, introduce myself in case we end up in any of the same classes.” He grinned, scratching behind his head. “I’m pretty new to all this University stuff, so I’d appreciate it if you had a little bit of time to go over the practices?”

[Satevis]

OOC*points at your time stamp* I think you mean 512 AV It was the last night of spring, and Satevis was spending it brooding. This on its own wasn't unusual for him. Brooding seemed to be almost a cultural activity among the Ethaefal. But on his particular night, he wasn't brooding about his separation from the Ukalas, or about his mortal life on Mizahar. His thoughts had taken a rather mundane turn. Apparently some benachag had publicly kissed Tock in the scholar's forum yesterday, and if it wasn't bad enough that Tock herself had spent yesterday night all upset about it (and a recent Zith attack), the encounter had set the entire College of Scholars abuzz. The result was that Satevis had been casually reminded by his glyphing professor that using Fire Reimancy against another person was illegal if unprovoked, and yesterday's incident apparently did not count as provocation. The warning confused him. Did he strike people as a pyromaniac? He had been nothing but nice since his arrival at Zeltiva. ...Of course, he had been reminded of Professor Westwood's advice while walking to the Astronomy Tower earlier and getting confronted by no less than three of his fellow students asking him for details about the event. He might have frightened Varra (really, he hadn't known that he could glare) but he was sure he had been nice to everyone. So it was in that sort of mood that he made his way back to his dormitory, and was approached by a man he didn't know--one who appeared to have been punched in the nose, perhaps in the same manner that Tock had punched her assailant in the nose. Satevis's eyes moved over the injury for a moment, suspicion rising through him. Look at you, he chided himself. Tugging at your chain like a dog that's been challenged. There are a multitude of reasons why someone could have a bruised nose. The thought was right of course. He was being stupid. Wrenmae was simply asking for help around the university. He couldn't assume that every bruised person he met had been the person that had kissed Tock in the scholar's forum, or he would be a nervous wreck every time he walked out onto the streets. Still, he would admit to retaining a small amount of suspicion as he returned Wrenmae's smile. "Good to meet you," he said. "I am called Satevis, son of Leth. I've been a student since the 18th of Spring, so I'd be happy to tell you anything you need to know about the University. What classes are you taking?"

[Wrenmae]

He let the breath seep out of him, unaware he'd been holding it till after the horned student had finished speaking. Honestly, what was wrong with him? Where was the excitement and daring of the street boy in Alvadas? He didn't mind striking conversations then, didn't care what people thought of him then. What was he if not confident? A storyteller was called to embrace the culture mores, moreso, envision and recreate them. Now he cowered in the open portal of his door like a child, holding baited breath to see if a student would talk to him a STUDENT. Somewhere along the line, his confidence had snapped in twain. Perhaps it had never survived the trip across the Suvan, the night in the cabin against the dire wolves, or the two season imprisonment and torture beneath Sunberth. So much had happened to him in such a short time frame, certainly could he be blamed for being a little anxious? In truth though, he remembered Tock the clearest, the way her face contorted with disgust and anger...with revulsion. REVULSION. He was looked at like a girl might look at a sloppy Sunberthian drunk, pawing at her breasts. He was looked at like scum. And he couldn't even remember why. Honestly it shook him, sent tremors through his bones and vibrated his heart into a gooey mess of insecurity. When would it happen again? What triggered it? How could he stop it? It was late that he realized he was staring, not at Satevis but through him, his mind working at a frantic pace to piece these fragments together. Blinking, color rose to his cheeks and he shook his head fiercly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he muttered, "I lost my train of focus. Errrm, you wanted to know classes? Uhm, well, I'll be taking Alchemy, Shielding, and Glyphing next semester. I got into Zeltiva a few days ago...so I haven't really been here long enough to sign on to this semester." He shrugged, "And you? What classes are you taking?" Wrenmae offered a shy smile, kicking at ground between them. It felt more natural to just talk, worry about yesterday another time. Honestly, he needed this kind of casual social interaction to work out of his paralyzing fears that seemed to dog him in every conversation. "So do they provide food and a schedule? What does one do with the time between classes?"

[Satevis]

The man was acting odd. Instead of responding to Satevis's greeting, he had simply stood there, staring though him as if he hadn't heard. It wasn't a completely strange reaction. Satevis had seen it a few times this past week, coming from students who were so stressed out over the end of term that it took them three tries to accurately guess their first name. He guessed that Wrenmae was still tired from his travels to Zeltiva, and probably had a lot on his mind. He smiled slightly as Wrenmae listed the classes he was taking. "It seems we're well met," he commented, his Shiber accent showing through for a moment. "I am taking Glyphing, Shielding, and Flux." He and Wrenmae would be classmates in two out of three classes. If they did end up getting along, it would make studying easier. As far as he knew, Tock would be taking Glyphing as well, and potentially Alchemy. That would lead to an interesting term. The smile faded briefly from his face at the thought of her. The past day, it seemed like he couldn't think of her without thinking about what she told him last night. He eyed Wrenmae's injury again suspiciously. So far, the other man seemed nice. A little distracted, sure, but certainly not the type of man who would publicly force a kiss on Tock. But he couldn't deny that the injury and the timing of Wrenmae's arrival was highly suspicious... How best to go about this, then? He couldn't ask Wrenmae outright about the incident. That would sound accusatory, and there was a good chance he could be wrong. He needed to test the waters a bit more before he could know anything for sure. "Your timetable should be sent to your rooms later tonight," he said. "As for food, students are allowed access to the Cafeteria Hall. Normally, we can eat whenever we like, but things have been a little different lately with the recent famine. I think the restrictions will be lifted soon though." He didn't eat much more than one small meal at noon, so whether or not food was being rationed didn't really matter to him. "If you don't mind my asking," began Satevis, a frown on his face. "What happened to your nose? That doesn't look good."

[Wrenmae]

"Ah!" He brought his hands together suddenly, clapping excitement, "We'll be in two classes together then! Fantastic!" He hadn't expected to meet a classmate so soon in his search, what luck that they were only across the hall. Not that Wrenmae didn't have faith in himself as far as learning magic went, but he wasn't really sure what entailed a University's studying regimen. He may need some assistance and the fellow next door would make the asking all the easier. The moments after his exclamation seemed to remind him he was in a dorm hallway near the end of a semester, noted by the string of slamming doors down the otherwise quiet hall. "Sorry..." He muttered, rubbing the back of his head nervously, "I sometimes get a bit overexcited." Satevis continued speaking, explaining the time tables and the cafeteria. Admittedly, Wrenmae had already been there once, but with the famine still looming over their heads, food had been scarce and portion sizes almost too small to be called a meal. Not that Wren had complained, frankly grateful it hadn't cost him extra, but it relieved him to hear Satevis assure him that the food would be back to normal come summer. Wren gingerly touched his nose and winced, shaking his head and shrugging. "Would you believe me if I said I didn't remember? Most of the past few days have been blurry for me, probably this new place and all this new lifestyle change. My nose will be fine, it looks worse than it really is." He tapped it again wincing. "Hurts worse than it probably is as well, but this isn't the worst I've suffered." He laughed off the comment, shaking his head and smiling at Satevis. "But enough about me, I'm all over the place. What brought you to study magic in Zeltiva?"

[Satevis]

Satevis frowned as Wrenmae's outburst set off a wave of angry muttering and doors opening and closing again. While he might be done for the term, there were several students that were still trying to get some last-minute studying in. Tempers had been short in the Living Quarters during the past week, and the fact that most of the students were hungry besides being stressed did not help matters. The atmosphere was actually a lot lighter today than it had been a few days ago, when the end of term seemed so far away and almost everyone was working. He gave the new student a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry about it," he said. "It should get louder around here tomorrow, when the new term begins." He frowned slightly as Wrenmae mentioned that he didn't remember what had caused his injury. Was he lying? Satevis couldn't tell. It seemed suspicious that a man would not remember an injury like that, but he had heard stranger things. The story certainly didn't help Wrenmae's cause, though. It seemed like the sort of story someone would tell if they had something to hide. He tried to tell himself that his concern and anger were more for Tock's sake than from any personal feelings of jealousy and that he would feel the same way if it had happened to any of his female friends, but that was too much to swallow even for him. He might have acted this way if it had happened to Yvera, but that would have been entirely out of whatever sort of brotherly protectiveness he felt for her. If it had happened to Nai'shee, he would have been angry for her, but he wouldn't immediately suspect anyone who had a broken nose. He frowned at Wrenmae. "You can't remember anything at all?" he asked. If Wrenmae insisted, he wouldn't press the issue, but he watched the other man's face very carefully to see whether or not he was lying. He thought about offering to use his aging ability on the wound, but it didn't sit well with him. If this was the person that had done that to Tock, he didn't want to help heal him. Alright, now you're just acting crazy... he thought to himself. Help the man. You don't know anything yet. It made sense, as much as he hated to admit it. He couldn't give Wrenmae the cold shoulder because of a suspicion. "...I might be able to help a little," he said reluctantly. "I can age the injury one day, to speed up the healing process." He waited to see what Wrenmae would say, thinking over how to answer his next question. "Zeltiva is where I fell, five years ago," he answered. "When I started learning magic, it seemed like a good place to head back to."

[Wrenmae]

Satevis pressed the issue, cautious curiosity becoming almost...pointed. Wrenmae frowned, almost worried. What if he was a friend of Tock's? What if he was just testing the story? It was true that it seemed a little ludicrous. Selective amnesia was rare, and really only used as an excuse if the fellow didn't want someone to know the details. He didn't want to come off as a dishonest fellow so early into the semester, but also hesitated to tell the man he literally had no recollection of what happened. Literally. In a magic university, Overgiving was probably met with apprehension and fear. Wrenmae had come here to learn and just be himself, it would be difficult if everyone was avoiding him on the principle of possible insanity. Definite insanity. No, no. It was best to speak, better to be honest now. Wrenmae's face was an open map of his thoughts, worry, indecision, fear, they all warped through his features till he opened his mouth. Tried to speak. Vomited. Not on Satevis, luckily he could feel Zan rising in his throat the moment before he gagged, turning sideways and going to his knees, coughing and sputtering. No meals for the day so little came from his throat but the familir, water at first, water that moved and shaped and coiled. Before Satevis could act on it, the Sarawanki floated up near Wren's face and balanced precariously on his head, the piping speech of his watery voice energetic as it filled the hallway. "Up then! Right, right, Satevis was it? Pleasure to play the part of your two part introduction." Wrenmae didn't bother to stand, shaking, weak from the forcible expulsion of his familiar. "Wren here is my other half, my...soul mate as you might say, not romantically of course, anatomical differences, you understand, but I'm his familiar, Zan." Floating off of Wrenmae's head, the familiar dangled in front of Satevis, twisting and turning off invisible jets of Djed. "A fellow with a fun ability was it? Sure, sure! Wrenmae here's too clumsy to know his own place. Guy got into an altercation over a mistake, very messy, still in shock about it." He floated nearer to Satevis, voice lowered almost conspiratorially, "Not much of a scrapper, my master, guy gets the petch kicked out of him by kittens, I do not jest." Soaring back, Wrenmae was taking his feet again, still gasping. "Kid acts like I haven't crawled out of his throat a dozen times before. I mean really, the shame of it." Wrenmae offered him a glare, catching his breath, and Zan continued. "Saw an Eth like you once, came down in Sunberth, naked as a human baby...or all babies I guess, and wandering around a den of thieves and rapists. I had to think then, what kind of a clumsy goddess is dropping people all over the place? Someone should really have words with her about it, right?" "I'm sorry," Wrenmae gasped, "For my familiar...he's..." "Exceptional" "Willful," the mage finished with a frown, [color=#ac8166]"I apologize if he's insulted you, it's impossible to control him." "I take that as a compliment," Zan said proudly, orbiting Wren's head, "All the most famous people couldn't be controlled." Wrenmae waved the familiar away from his head and nodded at Satevis shyly, "I...erm, that would be nice of you. I mean, I know a marked healer of Rak'Keli, Erudite, but any help at all would be appreciated." He fell silent, speaking again only after opening and closing his mouth a few times. "Do you...hmm." He paused, "Do you remember the...erm, before? I mean, before your fall."

[Satevis]

Satevis had been expecting an explanation, a rebuttal, or a quick change of the subject. He had been expecting anything from a suspicious glare or a look of utter confusion. He thought he had been prepared for a wide range of expressions and reactions. But he wasn't prepared for Wrenmae to lean over and vomit water onto the floor. The Ethaefal reflexively took a step back, his eyes widening as he moved his foot out of the figurative line of fire. Once he realized what had happened, his expression grew concerned, and he took a step forward to ask Wrenmae if he was alright when another strange thing happened. The water moved. Satevis stood in place, staring at the creature as it formed. He had known Familiary was a form of magic one could learn at the University, but he knew about it in the same way he knew that Malediction existed. It wasn't a form of magic he was particularly interested in, so it wasn't one that he knew a lot about. He had certainly never met a familiar before. The experience was...as fascinating as it was disturbing, if he was being completely honest. It made him forget about the issue with Tock, if only for a moment. Being confronted with a new form of magic almost made him forget about the insult to Syna, and indirectly, to Leth. Almost...but not quite. His eyes narrowed slightly at Zan's words, but he relaxed as Wrenmae stepped in and apologized for the insult. "...Not...Not at all," he said, regaining his composure. He frowned, turning towards Zan. "It's hardly the Lady's fault. Neither of them control who falls through the tear in the Ukalas." But as the words left his mouth, he found that he wasn't entirely sure he believed them. Was the fall truly random, or was there a purpose to it? A method to the madness? Had he simply slipped through Leth's fingers, or had Leth allowed him to fall? They were questions for another time. He turned towards Wrenmae as the latter asked what he remembered. It wasn't a pleasant subject, and not something he liked talking about. Besides his brethren, Tock had been the only person that he had gone into detail with about his memories. Wrenmae got the same vague answer he gave to everyone else. "Some," he replied. "Bits and pieces." He frowned. "I remember enough. But we should see about your nose first." Glad for something to distract him from thoughts of the Ukalas, Satevis reached forward, holding his hand just above Wrenmae's nose. He opened his connection with Leth, willing the time change to happen. He could feel the time slip through his fingers, Wrenmae's nose becoming one day older than the rest of his body, and one day closer to being healed.

[Wrenmae]

"Doesn't sound all that divine to me," The familiar prodded, floating around Wrenmae's head as Satevis aged his nose, "You'd think a goddess would be more careful about her worshippers, her favored," His voice dropped for a moment, almost conspiratorially, "And even then, how hard is it for a being like that to lift you up again? Why still here, boyo? What's your purpose on the plane...and did your Lady Night forget you? Did she even want y-" Zan paused midspeech as Wrenmae tore away from Satevis's grip and plunged his fingers into the mobile water. Zan shivered and the ends of Wren's fingers blistered red before the familiar was solid again in a flash, a small glass flask of water the hypnotist slipped into his pocket. Wrenmae's face was dark, embarrassed, "I'm sorry..." he said, shaking his head, "Zan is usually more polite. I'm not sure what's gotten into him." Waving away the issue, he touched his nose again gingerly. It hurt, but whatever the Eth had done certainly made it easier, made it feel better. "Amazing," Wrenmae commented, "Can all your kind do this?" He seemed to realize the implication of his words and shook his head again, sharply, "No, no, no, now I'm being too inquisitive. I'm sorry. I'm really making a mess of introductions, aren't I?" He sighed and threw up his hands, "Erm...err...magic! Right! Magic! What sort of magic do you practice or...erm, what are you good at? I have...quite a lot of magic disciplines behind me, none very good." A lie "Save morphing, I guess...but I also know a bit of reimancy, Voiding, glyphing, Malediction, shielding, and auristics...oh right, and of course, familiary." He rubbed behind his head with his blistered fingers, embarrassed. "Dangerous right? My voiding teacher used to say that magic was like a sword. You can use it to protect someone or kill someone, but its only as good as the man wielding it." He couldn't make eye contact with Satevis, not after the comments his Familiar had uttered. He felt ashamed, "I...err, I dunno if that's true or not...but I want to know more, be more controlled...ya know?" He smiled, shyly, "I want to do something important, protect the people that deserve it, that I care about...I guess that's part of why I wanted to learn magic." Threading his fingers together, shuffling his foot, "Why did you want to learn?"

[Satevis]

Satevis's eyes narrowed. He was aware enough to recognize that the familiar was trying to get a rise out of him, trying to see if he could get him angry, but in spite of himself, it was working. Zan was treading very dangerous ground. There were a few things more personal to somebody than their own doubts on something they thought they believed in wholeheartedly. He relaxed somewhat as Wrenmae made Zan disappear, the edge leaving his violet eyes as he looked back at the other man. He took a deep breath, not realizing until then that he had clenched his fists. Had he really allowed mere words to get to him like that? "...It is...no problem," he said quietly as Wrenmae apologized. He sighed, turning the conversation to happier topics. "Yes, all Ethaefal can do this...most of them anyway." He hadn't forgotten about the Forsaken...those like Pash'nar that had lost their connection with their gods. "But it can only be done while in Ethaefal form." He listened as Wrenmae listed off his skills in magic, slightly impressed in spite of himself. That was a remarkable range of magical disciplines. The suspicious part of Satevis noted that they were mostly personal magic disciplines, including reimancy...A mage with so many personal magic disciplines under their belt could very well be insane, which would explain why Wrenmae couldn't remember getting hit in the nose. But he certainly wasn't one to talk, and he wasn't going to come out and ask outright if Wrenmae had been overgiving. "That's impressive," he said. "My list is much shorter. I know reimancy and glyphing. I'm...fair at reimancy, but I just started glyphing this term." In the summer term, he would get flux and shielding out of the way, but for now, those were all the disciplines he knew. "...I suppose...I started learning magic because it seemed to be something I remembered. A connection between myself and my past lives..." He shrugged. It was hard to explain why he had started learning magic. It had always felt like a part of him, something that he needed to learn to be complete. In time, it had gone from being something he learned to connect with his past lives to being something he was interested in on his own. "I fully agree with that opinion, though. Magic is a tool. It's how you use it that matters." The Benshira had always believed magic to be evil. It was why in his most recent past life, he had never practiced it. Satevis had had to come to terms with that part of himself before he could start learning it.