What Could Go Wrong

[Aurin]

Castor's Residence, the Enclave
4th of Ash, Year 124 of Steel

Aurin took a circuitous route from the spacious home Torin had rented with Sivan to the home where Castor had grown up. They went through a neighborhood or two that Torin hadn't seen, and anyway, he wanted to pick up a few things he knew Castor liked to eat and drink in case he was still feeling off after the initiation. Aurin was just glad he had spoken to Valencia about best practices to avoid catastrophes when it came to initiation. At least Castor's soul had held a Rune for many years before Aurin added another one; that had probably helped.

The Enclave was certainly the most diverse section of the city, both in terms of racial demographics as well as class. Even the Shokaze of Kalzasi would be housed here if he came to visit. Well, the Dream King might invite him to stay at the Royal Palace as a guest, but Karam Senue couldn't own property outside the Enclave.

Having spent time in several places with strong racial biases, Aurin remained undecided about the whole idea. In Zaichaer, his life was worth more than Sivan's. In Solunarium, well, their racial views were even more complex, and tied into the orthodoxy of their religion. Sol'Valen allowed outsiders to reside there, but constrained them. They certainly saw themselves as beneficent elder siblings to the younger races, and he couldn't fault them for wanting to protect and succor their own.

Ah, well. Between his magic tricks and his underhanded business practices, he could probably manage to own property outside the Enclave through a false identity and keep that identity intact. He just didn't see the need to expend that amount of energy and money.

At the door, he turned to smile at Torin for a moment before his eyes began to twinkle with mischievousness. He banged on the door and said in loud, authoritative Mythrasi, "Open the door! This is the Krupteia!"

As if they would knock.

[Torin Kilvin]

Scrubbed and brushed, fed and dressed, the smith existed his place of temporary abode in as congenial a mood as he was capable. It felt so light, the day after a new creation was finished, set free to exist in the world. Particularly when it was one that took months of constant work to complete.

Torin felt buoyant, tethered to the ground only by the forces that pulled his feet down to it, not by any that so often weighed him down by the shoulders, or, more correctly, the mind. Lots of things rode on his wide frame now, responsibilities and duties to more people than he'd known existed growing up, but none of them were in need of him just then. Nothing was 'cooking' in any forge that was his to tend, and the only matter that felt like he should attend to it, aside from watching Aurin lead him from a few feet away, was that someone who had just received a Rune might need aid.

If Aurin wasn't worried, then there was no reason for Torin to be. Except that Torin had read a great deal more about the forces behind the aether that made the world and how they worked. The initiation to Traversion sounded a good deal like some of what he had experienced slipping, spiritually, into the Aetherium when Aurin had given him Semblance. The experience had been the most terrifying of his life and not one he would repeat even for the ability to instantly travel great distances.

The smith laid out coin for anything the redhead suggested might make his student more comfortable. It pleased him to be the purse to Aurin's desires, pleased him that he was able to do so without a second thought and that the Fox did not hesitate to select what Portions caught his eye and then wander away, leaving his boy to pay.

When they stopped outside the door to an apartment he returned the smile, utterly ignorant of the wickedness intended. His mouth gaped open when Aurin changed his voice into a threatening Mythrasi accented Common and demanded entrance. Which was how he looked when the door was opened, arms full of packages, mouth open as though hoping flies might choose to roost there.

[Castor Green]

No, the Krupteia wouldn’t have knocked.

But the (pretend) Krupteia weren’t top of mind, even with Aurin’s tricks. No, not the Krupteia, not even Traversion. Well, a bit of Traversion, because he’d been nauseous for the last day and a half. But nausea was something Castor could deal with, or at least something he understood. Which was the bigger problem today, something he didn’t understand.

The following happened in quick succession:

(*) Magic enveloped both Aurin and Torin, their auras caught in a webbing of Semblance, drawing through them at the most shallow reaches.

(*) Castor opened the door. He looked a mess; dark circles under eye, disheveled honey hair, a slight green tinge to his otherwise pale skin, and his clothes - thin pajamas - clearly worn for more than a day.

(*) “Something happened," he said, looking at Aurin - before looking quickly at Torin. If either were to investigate his aura, they’d see a bit of hesitation before a decision was made.

(*) He grabbed them both - he was weak and tired, so there wasn’t much force to it; if either pulled back, he’d let them go, but if not, he’d pull them both inside and shut the door right after.

[Aurin]

Aurin's smirk froze as he felt Castor's sembling through the door. Both he and Torin were quite talented enough with that particular trick that nothing untoward could happen for it, but he felt something wrong now that they were close, and the opening door confirmed it.

Castor's weak tug was overwhelmed by Aurin pushing into his space, putting hands on him and settling him down into a seat. The redhead knelt and examined him like a father with a sick child, peering at him, peering through him, and otherwise leaving Torin to come in and close the door behind him.

"This is Lord Torin Kilvin of Stardew Valley in the Astralar Mountains. He's here studying in one of the posh workshops in the inner Amforéon. He has snacks. Torin, this is Castor... he's going by Castor Green. Freelancer for Portions for Foxes, soon to be relocated."

Poking and prodding the young half-elf, he decided to hear it from the horse's mouth.

"Tell me what happened. You were fine when I left. Did you do one of the things I told you specifically not to do?" The tone of voice might have promised an over-the-knee spanking for all its paternal, disciplinarian tone. Either man might hear with familiar ears or arcane senses that he was only worried. He wasn't frightened as he didn't see anything terrible in Castor's aura, but he was going to be concerned until he was certain he wasn't missing something.

Torin's threshold sickness after initiation into Semblance had been terrifying. Arry's into Masquerade had been a breeze by comparison, and he had thought Castor's the same. He didn't like being wrong.

[Torin Kilvin]

The elf that answered the door was a pale green in color, both physically and aetherically as Torin opened himself to the examination and gave a matching one in return. He had not immediately recognized Castor on sight, but the moment their aura's touched memories that he hadn't exactly repressed but had also not exactly examined from the harvest festival two days prior surfaced with giddy abandon. The embrace was more like catching someone than being hugged by them and he would have tried to do just that had Aurin not be, as in most things, quicker on the draw.

The smith was left standing just inside the doorway, arms still full as the redhead manhandled and examined his protege. Nudging the door closed behind them all he placed his armload down on a table and made sure to bolt the door before turning back to the packages. Making himself useful he found a kettle and water and began making tea as quickly as might be done. Not bothering with the fireplace or the stove he use Fire to heat the water to boiling, leaving it on the table to steep while finding a cup and then arranging the other things in whatever way he considered might be most useful.

He was stalling, out of shame and embarrassment, which was only made worse when he was introduced by not just his name, not even just his professional title, but by his noble one. He winced before turning to the pair sitting and kneeling at the chair and said,

"Just Torin, is good, if you need anything. And uh..." This last bit was directed to Aurin, "We've met, briefly, at a festival."

He left what he remembered of that unfortunate situation floating in the parts of his aura and Aurin was allowed in. If the fox wanted more info he could have it, but the smith suspected he had more important things to worry him.

[Castor Green]

“It hasn’t anything to do with the initiation,” Castor snapped, pushing Aurin in towards the kitchen, after Torin.

He reeked of thought. His aura was littered with discarded anxieties, potential ideas as to the why of his predicament, left aside for brighter and wilder conspiracies. “No, it isn’t Traversion. It isn’t the same space,” he echoed, picking up a few things as he spoke. Spoons. A salt jar. Other nonsense he found, here and there. “And it’s not only space, is the worry. Watch -,” he said, and he let everything fall.

And, as if to catch it, a small void opened up underneath him, and the cluttered disappeared.

“But that’s only the most obvious bit. I know things, suddenly. If something’s locked, and how to unlock it. How much you can sell something for and -,” and then he pointed down, at his shadow, a few feet away from where it should be. “Then, there’s that. It’s been delayed all morning. Slow to catch up to me, for whatever reason.”

He looked at Torin, “To be clear, I don’t know you. I don’t trust you. That you know Aurin is enough that I hope you have some idea as to when to keep a secret,” he poured himself a cup of tea.

“There’s been nothing in the way of -,” he paused, thinking, “- health effects. Nothing that I’d relate to an initiation. It’s strange, though, the timing of it. I’ve been having dreams lately. Doors opening to nothing and no one, and tumbling winds. But that’s it. Beside that, and the introduction to the slipspace, I’d have no idea as to where this -,” he gestured vaguely, “- whatever it is, came from.”

What he didn’t say: I bet I could make a lot of money off this.

[Aurin]

Torin's admission, Castor's assurances, and his own findings all jumbled together and so he was able to relax. He exhaled, rocked his weight back to peer at Castor from a bit farther off, then smirked at Torin. He was definitely going to have to procure some of these ecstatic mushrooms and test them on the enchanter, although probably back in Kalzasi or his valley.

"Oh, good. You know each other." He frowned slightly. Castor didn't need to be rude about it, but at least he knew both men would give each other the benefit of the doubt in a pinch since they both worked for him. "No, nothing is wrong with you. But something's changed." He frowned more, a beetling of the brows in thought more than disapproval. He paid keen attention to the symptoms.

"Torin?" His aura was enough to nudge the even more powerful sembler to check his own work. If Torin couldn't see something wrong, then nobody could.

"Perhaps the initiation triggered something? I don't know. You have elven blood and the Hytori are supposed to be closer to magic than any of us. Except perhaps the ashen elves? I don't know. Seems like you aren't in any immediate danger, though. Just be careful not to step through any doors leading somewhere they oughtn't."

The Rune actually seemed to be stable, which made Aurin feel good about Aurin. He had done his job well there, but now there was this added wrinkle. Well, he liked solving a mystery. And while he had trained Torin and Arry and Ashoka and others to pay attention for him, he had trained Rivin even more. If these abilities stuck and he could help Castor learn to use them—and learn what new tools they added to his utility belt—Aurin could use them too.

What he didn’t say: 'I bet I could make a lot of money off this.'

[Torin Kilvin]

The younger human didn't have much in the way of medical training, only the most basic of first aid, which meant that while his Semblance might offer up a significant amount of information as to someone's physical status, his ability to interpret it rendered it all but useless.

Castor wasn't dying, that he could tell, and there didn't seem to be any illness floating around his aura. But then, the 'symptoms' they were being shown weren't the sort that came with physical ailments. Tilting his head, Torin, given permission from the one and nudging from the other, delved deeper, opened himself to the level of magic he usually only felt comfortable using around Lady Kala.

All things were one thing, when you went deep enough, and that was as frightening to the mortal parts of him as it was comforting to the immortal ones. Blue eyes unfocused, and he let the trappings of assumed reality fall away. Aurin became the other version of himself, bronze and molten, cunning and defensive. Castor became... No, Castor was infused by...

"Larceny's Soul." His voice had changed, empty of inflection and resonate. Aurin had heard it thus once before, as Torin lay trapped between two planes, lost and dying. What he saw was a glowing Other embedded inside the elf as though making a burrow of him, nestling in and becoming one. No harmful motivations came from it, no motivations at all, only a sense of belonging. Like the sigh of a creature come home, or finding a home, content.

"You chose each other. Now you are one."

Pulling away from the vision, Torin's eyes cleared. Not releasing his Semblance senses but returning them to their lesser form. In that he distinctly saw the greed flowing around both the other men but did not comment. He had many pieces of knowledge about what had happened, about what might happen, but none of them made sense yet. His mind would need time to sort out and translate what his soul had told him.

What he did say: "I don't think it will harm you. I don't think it can."

[Hekatos]

Review

As Castor's player has been too busy to write since January, I'm going to review this and award all involved 10 xp.

When and if he returns, there can be more shenanigans. But for now, we will assume that everything went as well as can be expected.