Eutriaina [Tyrann]

[Sivan]

Early Frost, Year 124 of Steel
Tavárinoikos, inner Amforéon

the swimmer is asleep;
water is awake.

"Thank you for coming," Sivan said quietly, bowing to the envoy from the seas. He indicated the Neptori should walk with him. "I do apologize for the delay. The Masters declared I should be the one to oversee the work as I was the one who brought your commission to them, and I have not been able to spend all my time here in Silfanore. Duty calls in Kalzasi. But I hope you will be happy with the results and feel as though your patience has been rewarded."

Tavárinoikos was fine and spacious, everything well made from the best materials, but it was no palace. It was a workshop. They received nods or bows as they passed people in the halls, depending upon the relative ranks of those walking it. They were too polite to stare, of course, and yet Sivan was much more comfortable in the small room where he was to reveal the work and ensure the client was pleased with it.

The room was largely bare, with only a high table in the center, the long shape of the trident shrouded by spider silk.

"Pardon. They do like a bit of theater with these presentations."

The elf drew the silk aside to reveal an elegant, silvery trident.

"The dimensions are to your specifications," he supplied, indicating he should pick it up if he wished get a sense for its balance. "The haft was forged with an alchemically synthesized metal. It looks no different from the metal of the tines and is, for all intents and purposes but one, quite the same. It will, however, be much easier to hold then metal—while wet or dry—without the need of pruning skin." With a shy smile he held up his hands—not pruning now—as he had in the ambassador's home to show him how the land-dwelling elves' bodies reacted to long soaks in water.

Sivan admired the thing. He hadn't made it, though he had been on hand to oversee Torin's work in that regard, though he had helped to prepare that special metal for the haft. It was the other magic within it that owed itself to Sivan's mastery, and he waited for Tyrann to approve of its physical features before he went into how he had answered the call to 'surprise me.' The ambassador, a fellow Sembler, might suss out the intricacies of its enchantments given time, but it was easier just to explain, to give him context so he could understand it better via his Rune.

[Tyrann Xekourassi]

“Nothing to thank.” The reedy sea elf replied, as he padded alongside Sivan. The gentle steps of Tyrann’s graceful gait seemed deliberate, as the smirking diplomat sauntered through the workroom. Aquamarine eyes appraised the surroundings unabashedly, meeting the eyes of those who looked his way.

“Do I strike you as a one who fails to appreciate well-placed theatrics?” He inquired with an arched brow and a starker smirk.

He nodded at being informed that his not-terribly-specific specifications had been obliged and reached to grasp the handle of the polearm, lifting it from its resting place and gauging its weight and balance in his grip, pursing his lips.

“Hmm.” He held the pronged end aloft and clanked the opposite side against the floor, using the trident like a walking stick as he made his way to a more open space away from Sivan and the trappings of the showroom. Once he’d claimed the room to do so, he executed a few of his landed training exercises.

Tyrann’s sinewy muscle, dense and taut from life under the sea, was perfectly visible beneath the form-fitting garment that clung to him like a second skin. However, unlike his smooth, seemingly poreless skin, the bodysuit that covered him from neck to ankle and wrist to gill, was scaled.

“It serves quite well in the open air.” He offered, finally. “I think it will function better than my other weapons in landed combat. I will be interested to see how it fares when submerged.” He tipped the prongs back up to face the ceiling as the staff walked him back over to Sivan.

“Well done. I thank you… but I assume there is more you wish to say on the crafting and features, elsewise you’d have just had it delivered and saved me a trip. Not so?” He tilted his head,

“…or perhaps you just fancied the notion of seeing me again?” The smirk was back in force.

[Sivan]

"You strike me as one who appreciates being well-placed, theatrical, and appreciated," Sivan replied quickly, but quietly. It was a little show of temerity, perhaps, but he didn't say it unkindly.

Instead, he remained on the other side of the display table to watch Tyrann wax martial. He didn't try to hide his admiration; Tyrann was one who appreciated being admired. It was also gratifying to see one's work wielded by a talented and skillful person. The skintight bodysuit suited him; he wondered if it was armor was well as clothing. He and Torin had discussed what a Neptori's armor might entail, and they had agreed immediately and unanimously that it was all likely based on scales, though there were other creatures in the deeps who relied on tough skin rather than scales: sharks, for example.

"Of the first, of the landed combat, certainly. Of the rest... well, I did quite a bit of research into hydrodynamics, spoke to people who yet fish with spears and harpoons. But that is boring for you, I'm certain. We might not match a Neptori artisan there, but there are other elements we have bound magically into it.

"When you are ready." There was a little upward lilt. It was a question, though he didn't press.

Sivan would happily watch him practice his forms, would even call water spirits to humidify the room and bring it somewhere closer to a happier medium for their divers physiologies. But he was also eager to show off what had been more his work than others'. His alchemical contributions to the runeforging process notwithstanding, the trident held powerful, adaptable secrets that he would have to unlock for the tidelord.

[Tyrann Xekourassi]

“Theatre and politics are kinfolk. Both are clothed in manipulation— sometimes stronger in subtlety, sometimes in grandeur.” Tyrann mused blithely.

“Very well. I shan’t count out your acumen with an aquatic weapon before I’ve tried it out in watery environs.” Tyrann acknowledged a bit amusedly, after Sivan explained the depth, for lack of a better word, or the research and effort put into making the weapon as amphibious as its intended wielder.

“Oh, I am ready. I already asked…” He reminded the landed elf not unkindly, and canted his head to one side.

“You need not indulge my appreciation for the theatrical by leaving me in suspense. Please…”

Tyrann gestured for him to proceed.

[Sivan]

Sivan nodded. "Pardon."

The elf gently took the trident back into his careful hands, turned it between them with a deftness that probably meant he had grown accustomed to its heft himself, and gathered the aether to him.

"Eutríaina, ĭdoû."

Aether manifested into a complex array of scrivening, now blue, now green, now silver coruscating. He released the trident and it hung in the air of its own power.

We are here.

"My lord Tyrann, these are Eutriaina. They were the guardian spirit of a freshwater spring that let out into the sea near Limánia. That spring ran out due to natural causes, but Eutriaina did not want to have their identity dissolve. I offered them an alternative, and they will serve you faithfully. They are now... hm... the ghost of a spirit, housed in fine metal. They are still learning their power in this form, and there is room for growth. They will speed your trident through water as though it were air. Drag will mean little. It will seek your hand again if you throw it.

We are solid as ice, but will not shatter. A tinny sort of laughter sounded as if this were the most amusing thing for the spirit; Sivan smiled, but then he was used to wild spirits.

"The two of you might find some creative uses for their power while in the open air as well," Sivan supplied. "Rather than enchanting specific powers into it with the runeforgers, I elected to create something unique. It will grow with you. There is one caveat, however. If you accept this, I require your promise to look after Eutriaina and find them a new bearer who will do the same if you ever decide to let them go. Tavárinoikos accepts your payment and you will have a fine trident one way or another, but there is this ethical question for this particular artefact."

His smile was gentle, as though he deemed Tyrann's goodness to be established and this a mere formality.

[Tyrann Xekourassi]

Tyrann drew nearer, leaning his face close to the shaft of the pole arm as its surface came to life with aetheric illumination. When it spoke, however, he reared back with a gasp and took a defensive stance, looking poised to hiss though he fell short of emitting the air to actually do so.

He knitted his brow at the explanation and, though his stance softened, his look of concern remained albeit shifted. Where at first it had been born of shock, it changed gradually to worry as Sivan spoke on.

The ethical implications came to him instantly. His people did not do this sort of thing, and he thought for good reason. He imagined it must have been a cold, hard thing to go from existing in the ebb and flow of a spring to being housed in cold, static, unforgiving metal. It put him in mind of shackles and slavery.

“And this is something to which you, uncompelled, consent, Eutriaina?” Tyrann inquired firmly. He hadn’t distrusted Sivan’s moral centre hitherto this instance and, even if this turned out to be folly, he expected it had been done in ignorance rather than conscious cruelty, but thus far the spirit seemed to be in good spirits, so that was something.

His mind pondered, next, what might be required to amuse the fountain spirit in static form. He would feel obliged to wield this weapon more often. Would training and sparring be enough to satisfy, or would he need to create fountains of blood for the erstwhile fountain of water?

“I would never wish to do anything that would be cruel or negligent of a conscious, sentient being… it has never occurred to me before to wield one as a weapon.” He said, for Eutriaina‘s benefit as well as Sivan’s.

[Sivan]

A part of Sivan was horrified that anyone would entertain the idea that he would mistreat, let alone enslave, a spirit. Even when dealing with infernal spirits, he tried to respect their autonomy and focus only on keeping his own—they were known for attempting to trick a summoner out of their soul or even just out of their body. Lady Kala had a strange case similar to that in her entourage these days.

Another part of Sivan was pleased that Tyrann's first reaction was this.

I am old, friend-of-Sivan, the spirit assured him, and I danced with the spirits of the sea for longer than... well, time doesn't mean the same to me as it does to you and to Sivan. I would have dissolved into Her. I might yet still. But I wanted to remain me. Sivan and his tribe made this body for me. He knew I wanted more and told me he was making a companion for one of his kin who love the water. I chose this. I choose this. And if I tire of adventure...

"Then I or another competent summoner can release you to take nature's course," he assured Eutrainia and Tyrann both.

Sivan had been surprised to encounter the spirit while walking on the beach near Limánia one night. So old, so complex, and more powerful than one might expect for guarding a relatively minor spring, Eutraina didn't need Sivan's garden to grow. They had wrestled with the sea for ages, since the world had cracked and Limánia had become a seaside port. The world had helped them grow through change and adversity.

If you don't like me, Sivan can release me and find another spirit to live in the trident for a while.

"Yes," Sivan affirmed. "The enchantments allow the trident to house a spirit; but the spirit isn't bound forever. It isn't truly bound at all. Eutraina could abandon it at will should their bearer abuse them; it would just be easier if I were there to help them along, especially if they don't want to deteriorate or bond to the nearest body of water needing a guardian spirit. Truly, it was not my intention to offend. I had thought your needs and Eutraina's needs were happily overlapping..."

[Tyrann Xekourassi]

Given that Tyrann was here to assess the quality of a purchase, he did not think it would flaunt Hytori custom to activate his Rune of Semblance to open his mind and soul to a greater understanding of this entity and the instrument it now inhabited. While actively Sembling, he could confirm the veracity of Eutraina's sentiments and be certain that they had been arrived at with full cognizance and willingness. At this illumination, Tyrann’s stance softened further as he returned to the ease with which he’d arrived.

“Well. You will never be far from water for long, Eutraina, and should you ever wish to quit unyielding metal in favour of mercurial tide, you have my unmitigated leave to do so. For as long as you wish to serve alongside me…” And he consciously used the language of partnership rather than servitude, “You will be welcome.” Tyrann did recognise that ancient beings were less prone to boredom and if, indeed, Eutraina was as old as they indicated, this new jaunt as an inhabitant of a trident, was not unlikely to remain amusing for longer than Tyrann would be alive. His lifetime was probably a matter of minutes if not seconds to a spirit born of an ancient epoch.

“Very well, then, Sivan. I thank you for your work and… apologies for my concerns. I do not know you well enough to presume your morals align with mine own, but I am pleased to find our codes are complementary.” He inclined his head and bowed slightly at the waist in a more respectful gesture than he’d hitherto posed for Sivan’s benefit. Perhaps Sivan had risen in his estimation this day.

[Hekatos]

Eutriaina

While his bow was slight, his wardrobe malfunction occurred all the same. A red gem swung out on its chain and, as it swung between them, its light pulsed almost like a heartbeat, glowing the brighter at one end of of its pendulous swing than the other.

Perhaps it had a mind of its own, reaching out for what it was keyed to. It glowed the brighter when it swung away from Tyrann, whether he noticed it or not.

Sivan didn't seem to notice that, though he noticed the shift in Tyrann's treatment of him. Pale gold cheeks flushed slightly, though not so ruddy as they had been when Tyrann tried to show him how to set water aboil.

"Not at all," he replied, nodding his head in respectful acknowledgement of the sentiment anyway. "Your concerns assure me that my estimation of your character was apt, and that Eutriaina will be in good hands. Quite literally." He smiled, the playful little joke a sign that he was growing more comfortable with the aquatic elf than before. "That's pretty," he said of the gem. Red seemed a counterintuitive color for the sea elf, though Sivan knew there were bright corals and fish far below the surface of the sea, as well.

Blood, Eutriaina murmured to themselves, apropos of nothing to Sivan's perspective, You are even more full of Water than is Sivan-elf.

It seemed Tyrann was done with his more dangerous examinations of the work, and so Sivan came around from the other side of the table to stand at a more comfortable distance. The gem glowed more brightly as Sivan approached, and perhaps it was warmer. Perhaps it thumped against Tyrann's pale skin as if with its own heartbeat.

[Tyrann Xekourassi]

Still actively Sembling as the gem swung forward, he could not miss that shift in its glow. His mind naturally wondered at the reason and he sought out what answers he might glean from the evidence before him.

As Sivan spoke of other matters, the distracted Neptori went so far as to remove the necklace and take the gem in hand, scanning it where it lay and then moving it about a bit to see whether he could recreate the phenomenon. He stood closer to Sivan and held the gem up to his face, perking an eyebrow as he looked from the stone to the elf before him.

“Pretty, aye… And it seems to like you better than me.” He noted, with a cluck of his tongue. His eyes darted to the trident now leaning against the table as its possessing spirit spoke up.

“What means this, Eutriaina?” Perhaps the spirit saw things the mortals did not. Blood was an obvious factor given the where and how he’d obtained this particular accessory, but he’d assumed without digging very deeply, that it was tied to his own bloodline.

“I don’t suppose you’ve any Neptori in your background? Any ancestors who dwelt along the coasts?” He wondered, pointedly. His curiosity was not idle, which was a rarity in Sivan’s observations thus far. A hitherto unmarked mystery had now presented itself and the diplomat shifted to the mindset of a sleuth as he actively probed the gem and its immediate surroundings.