A Meeting of the Minds [Flashback/Haddy]

[Dyrdas]

He clasped the hand and shook it with the kind of energy one only found in teenagers. “Dyrdas. I’ve no surname, it’s a long story.” The waiter came up with her tray, two pewter mugs perched on top. She deposited the mugs and Dyrdas reached into the pouch at his belt and fished out a few coins. He deposited a respectable amount into her outstretched hand. “Keep the rest as a tip.” She smiled and nodded then headed off, called by another customer. Dyrdas stared into the mug at the slimy fluid within, sloshing around and leaving a greenish film on the inside of the cup. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, then brought his mind around to lock onto the aura. When his eyes slid open, an unnatural light shined out from the mug, visible only to him, and it’s appearance seemed to shift as he focused on different aspects of the liquid. It’s aura was much easier to decipher than that of a person. It felt viscous and slimy in nature as he brushed against it through his mind’s eye, and he could tell it was an acquired taste even though it had yet to meet his tongue. Another slow blink and he had broken off from the beer’s aura, and Dyrdas raised the receptacle to his mouth reluctantly. The fluid within seeped into his mouth and he nearly spat it back out as soon as he met it’s taste, something one could never quite put to words. He swallowed it with visible effort, then lowered his mug to look across the table at Hadrian. “Don’t worry, we all start slow when it comes to magic. It’s not like other arts or trades. I think it’s like discovering a part of yourself you didn’t know existed.” He nodded, channeling sage-like calm for a second. Dyrdas took another careful sip of his beer, not letting it linger on his tongue this time. “So I saw that you have a bit of Reimancy in addition to your Auristics, any other schools catch your eye?”

[Hadrian]

"Dyrdas," he said slowly in his Syliran dialect, trying to pronounce it correctly since the two syllables were the only means he had to connect this other young man with anything. When the waitress's eye caught his, he hurriedly looked away and colored a bit, then let his gaze fall into his mug. Clearly, the little bookworm didn't know the first thing about ladies on top of only knowing the first thing about magic. But when he glanced up and saw Dyrdas looking hard at the stuff in his own mug, he risked a greater headache, blinking several times at his own kelp beer in an attempt to invoke that Sight he strove so hard to achieve. After some time, his vision went vaguely silvery in general, and the dark, algae green of the stuff suffused the air around it with a seafoam sort of green, if one were talking to a designer or something. His dark eyebrows rising up toward his hairline, he let his tenuous grip on the Auristics slip back again and just gulped at his beer to stave off the worst of his headache. It tasted like ... well, kelp beer, but he was getting used to it, which was frightening. He burped. Then blinked. "Sorry. Oh, well... probably a world magic, such as alchemy or magecrafting. I am not so good with the personal disciplines, but I can see how mathematics and everything else apply to the world magic, so I think I will be better with that in the end. What... what about you?"

[Dyrdas]

Dyrdas grinned in that sly, thin-lipped way of his when he saw Hadrian take the hint, and that he had taken his words about identifying Auristics use seriously. He sipped at his beer some more, slowly becoming accustomed to it’s... unique taste. He wondered how people could bother to choke through more than one serving, though. He listened intently to Hadrian on the matter of world magic, considering his words slowly. After a second, he nodded. “I myself am a practitioner of Magecraft. It’s amazing, being able to take something as humble as a wooden cane and make it something powerful beyond imagination. I haven’t been allowed in the lab very often, and when I have it was only with extremely close supervision. But the feeling you get from such an act is beyond description.” He fell silent again, gazing down at his kelp beer and sipping it some more. The abominable taste may have been growing on him. “The work is difficult, beyond compare with other disciplines, but the reward is well worth it.” Another gulp as his beer and he had emptied the mug, calmly setting it down on the table in front of him. Dyrdas let the taste linger on his tongue for a while. It wasn’t really as bad as he had thought it would be, although it was definitely different from anything he had ever drank before. After a couple more seconds, he gestured again at the server, and she nodded and made her way to the bar. Dyrdas turned his gaze towards Hadrian once more, gauging the reaction of his fellow wizard. He saw a contemporary there, someone who was with him in this new generation of mages.

[Hadrian]

Again those too bright, bloodshot eyes alighted upon Dyrdas' face, intense as anything, piercing the haze of his headache with suddenly renewed interest. Here was a man speaking his language. But he too drank down his beer, letting it settle in his stomach while Dyrdas ordered them another round. Hadrian knew to guzzle water when he got home and sleep it off; on the morrow he would be right as rain unless he had overgiven more than he surmised. There might even have been a mild painkilling powder or tea he could use to augment his self-medication. "I have to impress Professor Stonemiller, head of the Department of Magic, and if he takes me on as an apprentice, I'll have the run of the laboratories, I think. And materials necessary for things. But for the time being, I can only study my theory and work on these foundational magics." Practice he did and practice he would, but already his knowledge was outstripping his ability to execute. This would be a long-standing frustration with him. "Is that where you will focus in the future?"

[Dyrdas]

Dyrdas met Hadrian’s gaze calmly, eased and loosened up by the kelp beer. It was not the best thing to have on an empty stomach, or in the morning, but he would make due. As he and Hadrian conversed, the server returned once more and deposited another pair of mugs on the table. She scooped up the empty ones, Dyrdas piled more coins on her palm, and she left, quite happy with the generous tips. “Professor Stonemiller, eh? Sounds like a great way to get your start. The resources required for Magecrafting are sometimes prohibitively expensive. I’m thankful for what little practice I have gotten, though.” He sipped at his second mugful of beer, a little less gingerly than before. It still wasn’t the tastiest thing around, but he could at least try to enjoy it without heaving the contents of his stomach all over the table. That was always a plus. “Study is always a good thing. Best to know what you want to do when you get the chance to, than to let an opportunity go by. Preparation, I think, is important in all forms of magic. Magecraft especially.” Dyrdas was engrossed in the conversation as well. He was in his element now. His hands tingled at the thought of returning home to Oromyr’s laboratory. Perhaps he could beg his father for a few days to hone his craft. “Well, I am attached to my personal magic, but when it comes to profession I think so. I adore Magecraft over the other World Magics, for sure.” Dyrdas had grown used to his surroundings by now - he was growing attached to the city already. It seemed almost made for him, bearing those things he loved on a silver platter. He sipped thoughtfully at his Kelp Beer, considering the young man across from him. His stark green eyes met Hadrian’s blue.

[Hadrian]

"Always prohibitively expensive," he corrected, raising his cup and taking another gulp of the vile tasting beer. "At least until I have the investment capital to do what I want to do... however long that takes." He was rather certain he would never be able to persuade his father to invest in his son's magical career. There would be fireworks when Trajan Aelius found out his mizas were being spent on the University of Zeltiva's more arcane classes as it was. "Yes, well... I'm good at studying..." He certainly agreed with everything Dyrdas was saying, but he couldn't help wondering if he would be any good at it. There was such a deep-seated paradigm shift required for him to hold onto his Auristics, and Reimancy still proved exceedingly difficult. Of course, he was hard on himself and still quite new to the practice. But the theory made sense to him, fitting in with the mathematics he understood, forming a new picture of the world for himself. "You have a teacher," he prompted.

[Dyrdas]

“I agree. The greatest creations come only at the dearest costs.” Dyrdas downed another mouthful of the beer, mindful of the nasty film it seemed to leave on one’s tongue as it crawled down your throat. “Bleh, this stuff is awful,” he proclaimed, before taking another drink. “Investment capital, you say? This University is a wonderful place it seems. Giving you what you need to ‘craft, just for the sake of learning. Must be well funded themselves, too.” his mug went to his mouth again. Another nod. Studying was an important part of Dyrdas’s life as well. Living in a scholar’s home on the fringes of society, one found little else to do. His eyes glimmered and he smirked slyly at the thought of Oromyr’s experiments. His head swam with all his ideas swirking about related to the arcane arts. And here was Hadrian, asking about his teacher. “Yes, I live with my adoptive father, a man by the name of Oromyr, outside of the city. He teaches me these things, as well as provides food, drink, and shelter. I’m quite thankful.” He blinked. “Though, now that I think about it, it’s odd that a man as old as he could live outside of a settlement, on his own, for so long. It is not my place to question him, however.” Another sip of the horrid slime in his mug. “I know that he is not a native of Zeltiva, that he is well traveled, and that he is more than thrice as old as myself, if looks are anything to go by.”

[Hadrian]

"Yes, I am lucky to have the University as a possible means to defray the costs, otherwise I would have to find someone to whom I could apprentice. Perhaps Akvin Kultra back in Syliras, he's a master magecrafter, but it's easier to go about my business here, far from the view of my father..." He shrugged and drank more kelp beer, a bit more used to the stuff than Dyrdas, of course. "This Oromyr must be more than just a magecrafter if he can survive on the edges of civilization. This area isn't guarded by the Knights of Syliras, and the dangers beyond walls are innumerable." He peered curiously at Dyrdas. "He wouldn't teach me a thing or two, would he?"

[Dyrdas]

“Would he teach you anything? Well, you’d have to ask him.” A sip of Kelp Beer. “He’s a bit of an eccentric, I guess you could say. Well, I guess you’d have to be to willingly live outside of civilization in a world like this.” Dyrdas shifted in his seat, and he finally felt the time they’d spent in the bar. He rolled his neck and a pop was released, though whether the sound of the bar drowned it out was of no concern. A few slow, cautious sips later and Dyrdas had finished off his mug of kelp beer. “I’m not sure if I want to pour that sludge down my throat ever again,” he announced, as he made a nasty face at the equally nasty after-taste. He looked out the window, eyes scanning the sky for the sun. Dyrdas really had no set curfew, though he guessed he wanted to be back just as dark was falling, at the latest. The sun itself had little slant in relation to the window, so Dyrdas put the time at around midday. He nodded slowly to himself, before his eyes slid back to the other mage. “So Hadrian, I’ve told you about my semblance of a father... and I wonder, have you got any family? If you don’t mind my asking, that is,” he added. He met Hadrian with a steady gaze.

[Hadrian]

"I will have to seek about talking to him when I'm on break," Hadrian said. "There are too many teachers per capita here for me to give that up for one teacher, no matter how great he may be. No offense." He shrugged and smiled at Dyrdas' distaste for kelp beer. Hadrian had made himself like it by sheer force of will and repetition, wanting to be Zeltivan while he lived in Zeltiva. He was an outsider in his hometown. Perhaps he could fit in elsewhere. So far no dice, however. "Oh, my father's a merchant in Syliras. He travels a lot. My mother helps, I suppose. Now that I'm out of the house, only Verus is really a child. I'm one of seven. Second to youngest. Four brothers, two sisters. That's eight reasons why I'm in Zeltiva."