The Mysterious Puzzle Cube (Hadrian, Trent)

[Sebastian Stalinsa]

Season Winter, Day 32, Year 512AV The Farson home was a sprawling jumble of disrepair. A once great multistory dwelling with vast wings it now contributed its own bleak visage to that of a still recovering Zeltiva. Regardless of the foreboding walls and dark wrought iron fencing however there were many who called this fallen fortress home. Some would say too many, but the orphans within owned their lives to the Farson caretakers. A full bully and a safe warm place to sleep was a great deal more than many of them could have hoped for if left to the fickle charity of improvised neighbors. Sebastian had heard a number of offhand details about the Home and had visited it sparse times enough to know rumor from fact. One thing the gossipers always left out however was the hawk like diligents of Farson’s staff. No sooner had he set foot through the front door then Sebastian was set upon by the imposing Senior Caretaker, Thea Fleming-Lee. “Back again are you.” She stated her dark eyes which no mischief escaped raking over his person. Madam Lee was better than any guard dog and she made quite sure every visitor was properly scrutinized before letting even familiar faces close to her charges. “I don’t know why you bother to raise that poor child’s hopes.” She sniffed disdainfully. “It’s perfectly clear you’d be inept at fatherhood.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow, wondering what sort of secret travesty could have put such a knot in her undoubtedly spotless knickers. “Actually Ma’am I’m here to see Professor Hadrian.” He replied courteously trying to repress the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “There’s a bit of business I need to discuss with him.” Sebastian knew just as the children did that beneath her piercing gaze and whip like tongue Mrs. Fleming-Lee had a heart bigger than any bear and courage just to match. He could think of no better women to guard the driftwood inhabitants of Farson Home. But as she was a strict benefactor who held her duty to the children as sacredly as any knight would his honor it was only proper to treat her with respect; even if the building was crumbling down around their heads and a group of very muddy urchins were tip toeing their way behind her back. Possessing that strange sixth sense of all motherly figures Thea’s head scarcely turned before her voice cracked sending the orphans on a shameful scramble back out through the door to wash up. Her dark eyes took on a new glimmer of softness as they returned to Sebastian and he smiled awkwardly wondering what he’d done to garner such favor. “I heard he’s back from Sahova. Sounds like quite an adventure that. Couldn’t find him at the university though so was hoping to catch him here.” Sebastian added trying to move on from whatever miscommunication they just had. “Yes. His right up the stairs there.” She nodded stately with a gestured towards a large flight of stairs. “Top floor in the office. You can’t miss it.” With a knowing look that smacked of approval Sebastian felt he hadn’t earned Thea excused herself and made purposeful steps following after her muddy charges. Tossing a thank you towards her retreating back Sebastian began his climb to the third story. Finding the door he presumed lead to Hadrian's office he gave a solid patter of raps.

[Hadrian]

Mistress Thea was quick to lock up, of course, suspicious eyes cast without. As much as she resisted change, she was glad of Headmaster Aelius' security measures. The locks, the Shields, and the Wave Guard Kelvic who kept an eye on things, too. But, her work done, she did indeed hurry after her wards. The majority of the disrepair was in the West Wing, but the East Wing was in need of some tender loving care, too. Only just recently back, Hadrian was trying to figure out the best way to make it happen, but there were a great many things on his mind. At the rapping at his chamber door, he didn't even look up, but called, "Come in." He was working on a budget just then, calculating costs and projecting them through Winter and beyond. They could survive on his income from the University for a while, but not forever. "A bank," he muttered to himself, then blinked and looked up to see who was walking through his door.

[Trente]

*
Trente stood posed by the window, letting the light filter onto the crude press of paper he had braced against the wall as he frowned distantly out the window, over the bay, and pondered upon numbers.

There were a dozen children at the home as the deadly winter pushed on, much more than he could understand Hadrian allowing for. Each would consume as much as Matilis, and likely a bit more, considering the improved life style at the home compared to what Trente offered his own son.

Matilis managed to consume nearly fifty nilos a season, out of Trente's pocket of course, which was not utterly light. He could imagine each of the orphanage children requiring nearly two or three times that much, with perhaps a slight reduction due to their structured communal living. He scrolled down "100 nilos per child" on the paper pinned against the wall, and dabbed at the drop of black ink as it rolled down the paper toward the floor, till he managed to stop it's decent.

"Twelve..." he let trickle out of his mouth, barely audible as he counted hundreds silently to himself, till he had the presence to realize the pattern and deduced that there would be 1,200 Nilos required to sustain the children, and that there would be no need to count each hundred separately. He did not bother to double check the thought as he checked over the roster of live in volunteers. Each gained little to no money, and won only food and board for their toils.

Miss Fleming-Lee. She posed enough skill to curry quite the pretty penny as a steward on any personal transport ship, or work as a fair keeper of the inn. Instead she wasted her skills here, on children she must have a deeper appreciation for then she showed. 1,300.

Vasos. Trente had first met the young man while studying performing arts at the university. It seemed so long before to Trente then. But, he recalled the senior orphan showing quite a bit of promise in music. Now, though, due to his loyalties and the blight he had withdrawn from his classes and spent the entirety of his time locked in the same home he had wasted his younger years in. It was a shame to see a young man squander their potential. 1,400.

Lily. Trente, of course, liked this one, and couldn't think of a more fitting place for the fair scaled Konti. They weren't like humans, and unlike the humans which decayed in the home, Trente could see how Lily flourished and thrived. 1,500.

He looked at the number and shook his head, glancing back at Hadrian who did not give him any attention if he was aware. He usually was.

Trente wasn't being forced to help, he hadn't even been asked, but he was a little curious about the orphanage's funds, and he had yet to shake the hit to his ego that the voyage to Sahova had left within him. He wished to assist, as was his job description, the best he could, at least till his pride found time to mend.

He jotted down a clear "100, Quarter Annual Repairs," as a simple estimation in assumption that they wouldn't be hit by another Djed storm. Then he jotted another "100," for miscellaneous expenses, but did not write the denotation for fear he would misspell the elusive word.

He could have been more precise with his mathematical skills, but the strain would have been more than the process required. With simplicity he added the last two hundred to the estimation and noted it along the bottom.

"Total Quarter-Annual Cost: 1,700 Nilos."

Maria was so proud of those that donated, but they were far too unaware of how little an impact their petty donations made. If Hadrian didn't think of something he would have to choose between poverty and letting the children starve.

Knocks filled the air, and Trente turned toward the door, letting the wooden quill fall lax by his side, careful not to mark himself with ink.

"Bank," Hadrian let out in a thoughtless expression of contemplation. Something was on his mind, but Trente knew little enough of history to be unaware of what the word meant.
*

[Sebastian Stalinsa]

The office was smaller than he’d expected for someone of Hadrian’s standing but, not so small as to feel cramped even with the addition of a third body. Sebastian wasn’t expecting another person and his surprised showed in the quick flit of his eyes as they measured up both men. One slender dark haired and standing by the window with a leaf of paper in his hand. The other a bit wider of shoulder but, compacted as he sat brooding over some papers atop a desk. From the descriptions he’d gathered this latter one was Hadrian while the former, Sebastian was unsure, but there was a very good chance he was the famous, or infamous depending on who was gabbing, Trente Ostentatoire-Criard Eclatante. A pretentious mouthful of a name but, Sebastian liked what he’d heard of the man so far. It seemed on entering that the two were in the middle of something. As he’d been invited however Sebastian didn’t feel pressed to wait. “Sebastian at your service.” He gave an easy half bow towards Hadrian. “A well intended inhabitant of Zeltiva and a man with a little something I hear you’d be interested in.” With a quick twitch of his right hand he untied a small washed out sack over his belt. Striding over he placed the bundle on Hadrian’s desk being careful of avoiding the papers and other items already inhabiting it. “One of your charges, Lina, gave me this. Said she found it down in the tunnels where the smugglers kept her. I wouldn’t have normally given it up, seeing as it’s a gift.” He explained while hooking his thumbs through his belt. “But I got curious about the writing. Not like anything I’ve ever seen and the stiffs at the university could only say it was old. Really old.” He shrugged nonchalantly but, his blue eyes were sharp as they watched Hadrian, glancing once or twice towards Trent to make sure of his position. East Street, it seemed, was starting to color his view of Zeltivens. Far too often had he witness nobility rubbing shoulders with scum. Sadly, assuming men of public virtue held the same close to their hearts was becoming an archaic expectation. Sebastian didn’t enjoy the change of perspective. He much preferred the idealistic world propaganda by Syliran Knights, but Zeltiva was no Syliras. And the longer he stayed the more obvious this became. So for better or worse he was adapting if a bit slowly. As far as Hadrian went people had showered waterfalls of praise for the man and Sebastian really couldn’t see any reason to doubt his character. After all someone who dedicated a great portion of his time and fortune towards caring for castoff children had to possess a heart of gold. Unless, a small voice said, he’s doing it out of repentance. Bah, Sebastian squished the annoyingly practical voice. What did it matter why? The deed was more important than the reasoning behind it.

[Hadrian]

The bank idea would allow him to invest donations, his own and others, and develop a trust whose dividends would pay out for salaries, clothes, food, and repairs, everything. But that would be a long term goal, no doubt. He supposed he could go in with his father, but he didn't trust Trajan Aelius to have Zeltiva's best interests at heart, and even to bring up the idea of the archaic institution would have the old merchant prince working to preempt his son. No, Hadrian knew how to play chess. One didn't reveal one's strategy too soon. "Welcome, Sebastian. I'm Hadrian Aelius. This is Trente." He would let Trente unleash the fullness of his name if he so chose, but Sebastian (no surname) would have to surmise that he was Hadrian's associate otherwise and leave it at that. "Lina? Ah..." But he didn't touch the thing, didn't unwrap it. Instead he leaned forward on his elbows, focusing on it upon the auristic spectrum, while at the same time engaging his Lykata and testing its chavi for helpful contributions. Perhaps this seemed odd to the newcomer, but everyone knew Hadrian was odd, not only for the streaks of dark blue the storm had combed into his hair, nor the too-bright blueness of his eyes, which had once been beautiful, and were now quite clearly inhuman. Well, he could have hidden all that with one of Ionu's own illusions, but he chose not to. He had never been one to draw people near with charisma and charm. What difference did his coloration make? "Interesting."

[Trente]

*
Trente looked the man over, took stalk of his walk, and listened to his talk, but saw absolutely nothing remarkable about the man. He seemed but a simple sailor, no more, no less. Though he had the build of a fighter, if he bothered to train, an observation born as byproduct to his recent work.

Upon the conclusion of Sebastian's words Trente conspired to make a show of himself with his quick tongue, as he often did, for he found himself exceedingly bored by the droll exercises he had Hadrian had been occupying themselves with since their recent return to Zeltiva.

With simple steps he ferried himself across the room, loose note paper in one hand, quill in the other, leaving the ink well resting in the window sill. "Well, I hate to break it to you Sebastian, but despite his age Professor Aelius is just another stiff of the University." His words came almost matter of factly, but he let up a harmless smile to Hadrian as he set the numbers down before him, and the quill beside it.

"He does strike one as the type to know something about old shyke though." In fluid movement, once his hands were freed, he reached unabashedly for the wrapped item, and very carefully unfolded its coverings and extracted it with curiosity. Trente had much less understanding of how to extend one's curiosity into a game as Hadrian had, and instead wished to reach the truth as quickly as possible. And, by the looks of the cube within he found it easy to understand why Sebastian thought it may be a fitting puzzle for Hadrian to shed some light upon.

Trente tumbled it in his hands a few times before helpfully saying, "Yes, this is a question for a University stiff all right." He gave a sarcastic smile to Sebastian as he handed the cube back to Hadrian and perched one leg upon the corner of Hadrian's desk and reclined his weight in a relaxed fashion, "I guess you know how to pick your contacts well."

He let his hand come forward in offer a more proper greeting, and said, "Trente Ostentatoire-Criard Eclatante, Professor Aelius' Teaching Assistant and personal attendant. It is a pleasure to meet you Sebastian." Then he recalled the tale as the name rolled off his tongue and nodded with approving recognition.

"You are the heroic individual who brought those orphans not so long ago, correct?" He tried to recall the children's names but naturally recalled nothing of the sort. "You are a pirate battling savior of the children. There have been stories of you floating around the orphanage, growing wilder by each recount. You should ask to see the children while you are here. I can take you to Lily for an inspection as soon as we are done here, if you would wish. There has been a bit of an illness going around, I am afraid, so the process to gain direct access to the children has been somewhat modified on Professor Aelius' orders."

He glanced back at Hadrian to try and read if he had overstepped his bounds at all, but found the man was still thoroughly engrossed in his probing of the device. Trente wondered not what the man saw with those unsettling eyes of his. It wasn't the color which unsettled Trente, but the way in which he stared past objects, and never looked a person in the eye. Not really.
*