The Stuff of Dreams [Hilana, Sivan]

[Torin Kilvin]

8th Frost, 124

Lord Kilvin had been away from his home for two seasons, only having just returned to the last few days of Ash. The first week and more he had spent in the valley, his valley. For all that it being his still made his head spin, he took the responsibility very seriously. A shade of guilt had hung over him for being away so long, even with Kala and Aurin keeping an eye on things, not to mention Timon, until he'd seen that all was well.

The farm folk knew their business better than any of those who were set over them, so long as they had the provisions they needed, oversight was all but redundant. Still, the valley had been purely wild before it had been granted to Torin, and one could never know what might be needed. As such, he felt it his duty to check in with the people who had braved starting their lives over in a place that had never known the touch of an intentional hand.

Fields had been plowed, fences built, livestock brought and bred, houses built, and even children born in what seemed like no time at all. After having been gone for so long, for the first time, seeing the changes amazed the young lord. He went to each family in turn, accepting their hospitality with gratitude and listening to all that they would tell of the summer and the harvest, of issues they had encountered and successes they had had. He listened to all of it intently, but particularly closely to their assessment of the golems their lord had built to aid them in their labors. The artificed creatures were primitive but with the ability to learn, and they had been doing so with the gusto of children. The main issue that seemed to be occurring with them was that different farmers had different ways of doing things, and it was causing some confusion for the golems and some friction between the families. Torin made notes, fully intending to check in with each of the golems, both for their own sake and that of the population they served. They felt like an extension of Torin's intention that gave him an uncanny combination of emotions he couldn't untangle.

Once he had heard from all of his people, he planned to return to Kalzasi to purchase what supplies and things they needed, as well as check in with Timon concerning his business and finances. The boy, young man, really now, had a better grasp of all of that than Torin ever had, Aurin having passed much of the maintenance over to the apprentice as he grew capable of taking it on. Once he got into his foundry to check in with the golems, he knew all other duties would slip from his mind for an extended period of time, so it was best to get the trip out of the way.

After having spent two seasons living and working practically on top of Sivan, going ten days without seeing him had begun to tug at the human before he even got back to the city. The first day therein he'd spent making orders and doing what was required of him, but it was barely past dawn the next day before he was making his way along the achingly familiar streets from his home to his friend's. More than friends, but he didn't have words for what they were. There were some in the Elvish languages he had learned, but it felt disrespectful to use any of them before Sivan did, or, at least, without asking first.

Stomping the snow and sludge from his boots, he knocked at the door to Sivan's tower. He could just go in, the spirits knew him and he had a key, but sometimes the elf had company, and sometimes that company was not entirely dressed.

[Sivan]

all that I am—
all that I ever was—
is here in your perfect eyes;
they're all I can see.

Sivan was relieved that Hilana's initiation had gone so well. He had hoped it would, had tried to prepare her for the trial, and she had returned to her body with a serpentine spirit who seemed like a wilder version of Exael. Threshold sickness wasn't truly the danger of their initiation as summoners; once she was safely returned to her body with a compact keeping both her soul and the summoned spirit's safe, all she really had to do was rest to recuperate from the aether loss, grow accustomed to the siphoning of her own energy that allowed Sviras to remain here, and grow accustomed to the spirit.

So he spent more time at the tower than at the forge, but he had spent hours of every day replenishing stocks as even his alchemical creations had a limited shelf life. While he felt he would finally achieve mastery of alchemy under the auspices of his master's old workshop that season, it was good to return to Kalzasi where even his imperfect creations were lauded for their quality. He had mentioned some changes he wanted to make to Timon, trusting the lad could handle them or at least do preparatory work so he could oversee them when he returned more permanently.

This still left him plenty of time to tend his garden, answering Hilana's questions when she had them, and otherwise commune with his home. He was growing to love his fatherland in a new way, but this was a place he had created, was proud of, and felt connected to because he was Sivan, not because his father's blood was a part of the local river.

He didn't know if Rivin was irked not to have the tower to himself anymore, but if he hadn't deigned to reveal himself to Hilana, he at least had ways to get to the subterranean floors, the inverted tower that had grown in equal measure downward as Gebeb made his home a living thing. Riv and Siv had spent time at the forge, however, while Torin was visiting the valley. He made a good assistant, so perhaps someday he would become Sivan's student in alchemy. Or perhaps not—he considered Aurin his mentor in most things magical, and that had a charged implication for the Lysanrin. Sivan figured they were fucking, but he didn't know if it went beyond that as it did for Torin when it came to the fox-faced man.

The door opened before Torin's hand returned to his hip. Sivan couldn't help but be aware of his home as it was in many ways an extension of himself.

A sunrise smile greeted Torin before a hand snaked out to catch the front of his clothes and pull him inside for a kiss. Once that was settled, he urged him in. It was already cold here, but the tower was always comfortable. So, too, was the garden. Torin knew Hilana by reputation, and now they would meet. The delicacy of initiation had passed and so the Vastian woman didn't need to be cocooned any longer.

"Hilana!" he called once they emerged from the back door. He kicked at Torin's boot with his bare foot. "Amicus meus advenit."

[Hilana Chenzira]

Hilana and Sviras had spent most of the last few days getting acquainted and getting used to each other. She was not one to be idle, and with her usually packed schedule, it took a bit of getting used to to just relax and have lessons with the wild spirit that she had chosen to bind herself to. But with the Rune inscribed on her palm, it opened up new ways to communicate with the many spirits here. It was much more detailed, in a way, than it had been with only her Rune of Elementalism. She was no longer limited to the elements that she had attuned to, as plentiful as they had been; but now it was all of them now that were willing to talk to her.

And the Vastiana liked to talk.

But she had learned to listen, and sometimes that was all there was to do - to sit quietly in Sivan's garden and mind what those around her had to say. And in doing so, it made her easier to approach. She had a lot of energy, sometimes far too much, and she had to meet these spirits at their level rather than imposing herself. If she made herself open and available, she was that much more approachable.

She was also in and out of the tower during the day, mostly to take advantage of the kitchen - Sivan may have said 'light' breakfasts, but that didn't mean the other meals couldn't be enough to stuff him, and when he'd gotten home from the Forge, Hilana had a large pot of stew cooking down on a low heat on the stove top, and a large basket of buns rested under a cloth to stay warm to accompany dinner. In the oven itself, in a strange-looking conical cooking dish that she had called a tagine, that she had brought from home, also had food cooking away inside of it. It did lead to exotic and spicy aromas in the kitchen, and with the low heat, Hilana was content to just check in from time to time and give the stew a stir, and otherwise let it do its thing in the cauldron.

Since Torin had been in the back yard last, there was a tent erected away from the altar of light that Talon Novalys had left there, but out of everyone's way. It was open, the flaps tied to allow anyone to go in and out. And when Sivan called, a raven-haired young woman with dusky skin and big brown eyes emerged from the tent. She was wearing a rather full tiered skirt that had plenty of ruffles and many shades of purple worked into it, and many of those ruffles were made with different types of fabric. In contrast, her linen blouse was much more simple and fitted to her figure. With a nod to the weather it did cover her torso, though her arms were covered to her elbows with light sleeves. She hated having her arms covered, especially towards her hands, but Lia had insisted. It wouldn't do for her to catch a cold up here, and this way it wouldn't interfere with her time in the kitchen. Long hair was woven into plaits, and full of all kinds of beads, stones, and trinkets that would likely set Torin's Semblance off if he started to inspect them. Some of them were magical in nature, others less so.

"Salve," she was all smiles when she came out, Sviras draped around her neck and shoulders. The wild spirit, looking for all the world like a white, feathered snake with blood red eyes, also offered a greeting to Sivan. Hilana blinked. "Torin?" she thought she recognized him from the strange place from earlier this year, closing the gap at a rather hurried pace, and looking like she might well glomp on the two of them.

[Torin Kilvin]

The smith grinned, warm as a forge fire, at the elf before their mouths came crashing together. Torin would never get past how lucky he was to be allowed to touch Sivan, to be wanted by him. His life often seemed as though it didn't make sense compared to the way he had spent the majority of it believing it would be. The people and places he belonged to had not featured in the child and adolescent's imaginings of the path he would walk. So, even after years, he was sometimes surprised by reality.

Stepping into the tower was like stepping into spring, both physically and in how its aura sang through his rune. Even with his eyes filled with the elf who held to him, his mind opened up to the space around him. The tower would always feel like he belonged inside it. It wasn't the only place, but as strong as any. Pushing little wisps of his aether out, he offered them to the spirits who knew him. It had been a long time, and the smith was not above bribery for affection.

As open as he was, he felt Hilana before he looked up and saw her. His eyes snapped around Sivan to find the tantalizingly familiar embodiment of the aura he had half-convinced himself had been only a dream. There were auras in his dreams now, his mind so used to feeling them that it made ones up, as it made sights and sounds for his unconsciousness to experience.

"Hilana?" His voice was incredulous, brows up in confusion. Her name has been told to him, but it wasn't so uncommon a name that he had more than been pleasantly reminded of the woman he had met in that impossible place.

Noticing Sivan's confusion at the double unexpected reactions, he said,

"She's the woman from the door in reality, with the carnival on the other side." The tale had been told to all of his close people, and he'd been examined for any ill effects. None had been found, but while he knew that it had actually happened, he wasn't sure if anyone he'd met had been real, or simply an aspect of that Other place.

In a moment the Vastiana was as close to him as Sivan and he was taking a half step back to remain at a polite distance so she could easily see his face. It was a reflex from being taller than most of the people he met. Remembering his manners he bowed politely, in the Kalzasern style.

"How do you do?" As he stood, he sent a careful vibration through his aura, a humming of the tune that had played at the otherworldly carnival he suspected they had both experienced. She was a Sembler, that he knew regardless, and if she was the woman he had met, maybe she would recognize the song.

[Sivan]

"Torin Kilvin," he said, nodding. Hilana had his name right. Sivan had tried to tell her that Kalzasern citizens might be offended by the Solunarian rendering, Kazasi.

Everything seemed to be going along swimmingly. Today, he was sensing the aether more aurally, hearing the song of the hive as well as the buzz of the bees themselves; everything was legato, even Torin and Hilana preparing themselves for social harmony.

Then, there was the hiccough of Torin's recognition.

Torin had told him the story of the woman from his dream, but the sudden revelation gave him pause. He was quiet as they greeted each other, trying to digest this new knowledge. It wasn't bad, but certainly startling. He thought he was introducing them, but they shared something strange already.

He smiled, though; if they were unbothered, then all was well.

"So, you know each other already, then. Sort of."

And, of course, he nodded respectfully to Sviras, though he didn't name the spirit in front of Torin lest it not wish its name known. It was a use-name, in any case, but even a use-name had some power if not the power of a true name. He almost chuckled at the sound of the squealmouse's aura; it knew Sviras wouldn't eat it when Sivan was around probably but it remained a squealmouse and it had its prey instincts no matter what effects years in this enchanted garden might have upon it.

"I was going to see about supper, but it smells like Hilana has been cooking..."

Sivan was certain he was going to have gained some weight by the time she went back to her desert city.

[Hilana Chenzira]

Right, right, no tackle hugs... She was just thrilled to see him here. While Hilana had known that the experience very clearly wasn't a dream, as she had seen others there that she had recognized, like Laebirius, but she had yet to have come across the big smith of a man that she had met there. And as it turned out, he was the business partner of Sivan's. The Kilvin of the Kilvin's Forge. So close all along, and yet, so far. At his bow, she offered her own, sweeping out her skirts with a little help of the shadow spirits that liked to gather around the fabric. "I am well. How about you? It is good to see you again, Torin." She felt his song, and her own aura responded in kind, like an ethereal whispering of wind moving through the trees. It wasn't a conscious effort on her behalf, just the innate wildness that was as much a part of her as her ebony hair.

"A little bit," she agreed with Sivan, turning her beaming smile his way. "It was an odd experience, to be truthful, but I'm glad I had it with him. Did Torin tell you about it?" She rather thought he must have, considering he'd just referred to some details now. At the mention of dinner, she got brighter still. Cooking clearly was a passion of hers, and now she had two people to stuff full of food, and Torin did look like he could put away most of the pot by himself... which gave her an excuse to make more.

The snake spirit nodded to Sivan's greeting, remaining where he was around Hilana's shoulders. He had wrapped his tail around the arm hole of her shirt in order to anchor himself and hang onto the ebullient young woman. Sviras had paid little attention to the squealmouse since his arrival back with Hilana in this plane of existence, but nature was nature. They had had an agreement that he wouldn't hunt in this garden, and she had, true to her word, taken him where he could experience some of the world around them, including the thrill of the hunt, while Sivan was at the shop. As such, the feathered snake was content to leave the denizens of the garden alone. There would be more hunting when they returned to Solunarium after a while, but for now... one needed to treat everyone else with respect. They were guests here.

"Dinner should be ready whenever you'd like it. I'd need to check the potatoes in the tagine, but they should be pretty close to done," Hilana offered. She did like being useful, and that was something that she could do for her teacher while he was away at work. Even if normally he might just buy something or pick something else up somewhere else, it was always nice to come home to a hot cooked meal. A meal shared was a meal well-seasoned, or so the saying went, and surely they were hungry after a day at work.

[Torin Kilvin]

"I'm well. Thank you. I'm sorry," Realizing he was maybe being a little stilted, he held out his large hand to shake Hilana's if she wanted that, "This is just, really weird. Not you, you're..."

He'd been about to say 'beautiful', but he flushed, still a bit in shock,

"Uh, wonderful. Oh! How did the initiation go?" For this, he looked between Sivan, who had moved off toward his kitchen, and Hilana in front of him.

It was right about this time that his Semblance informed him that there were a second greater spirit in the tower.

Exael's presence was suffused throughout the space, and there were always dozens of other spirits, those bonded, and those wild who had been attracted to the spirit-friendly environment. But this was something else, neither wild nor putting off the connection to Sivan that all those he bonded held, nor even those few who were bonded by Rivin that generally kept to his basement spaces. Torin hadn't spent time around enough summoners to immediately recognize what he was sensing. Sivan's greeting helped, even though it was non-verbal. It took a moment to put the pieces together but then it dawned on his face and he sent out his own small greeting to what must be Hilana's Aidolon. It must have gone pretty well, but he wanted to hear it from her, if she was comfortable telling him.

They moved towards the kitchen so the conversation could continue with all three of them, at least, all three of the fully corporeal beings. Torin sat down at the table so as not to be in the way of either of those who seemed to be making the meal.

[Sivan]

"A little," he admitted, "but no names or I might have guessed."

For a moment, he was a little thrown by the surprise running through the aether back here. The shock of recognition in an otherwise relatively tame space. Then questions asked, but he thought he had probably better let Hilana share as much of her initiation with Torin as she wished. He just smiled encouragingly, and then had to check which direction the smells were coming from, the direction of her tent or that of his kitchen.

Torin turned toward the tower, and took a seat at the table, so at least Sivan knew one guest preferred that to the garden. The change might be nice, and while it wasn't cold in his garden, the tower itself was certainly warmer. Since Hilana was taking good advantage of his 'make yourself at home' invitation and had made dinner, he decided he could at least provide the drink. Padding Torin's shoulder as he passed the smith's seat, he headed toward the downward stairs that had once, not so very long ago, been a mere trapdoor.

"I'll be right back," he promised before descending.

He was only gone for a few minutes. There was selecting the beverages, and then there was checking on Rivin, who he sensed was down in the little room Gebeb and his earth elementals had crafted that seemed best suited for his errant student. Given the small box to call his own, Rivin had taken a seat with it, claiming it like a cat. Now he was more like a surly teenager as Sivan knocked, asked if he wanted to come up to have dinner, and then asked if he wanted Sivan to bring him a plate of leftovers. Rivin asked petulantly what they were eating, and he tried to explain, mostly getting across potatoes and possibly spicy.

But he was smiling when he returned to his guests, a couple of bottles of good wine in one arm and a small barrel of his mead in the other.

"Perhaps not warm enough for the mead, but I thought a little sweet might complement the supper, too."

[Hilana Chenzira]

She grinned at Torin when he cut himself off from saying that she was also weird. Hilana didn't mind that; some people may have found it offensive, she considered it a compliment. The right people didn't mind her weirdness, and they had their own weirdness, and it became a mutual weirdness in the best of ways. But she would shake his large, forge-callused hand, and gave a reassuring squeeze.

She was perfectly fine indoors or outdoors, so if there was another preference, then she was okay with it. She would follow the two of them back inside. Where Torin went to the table, Hilana checked on the pot on the stove. She lifted the lid of the pot, and rich, warm, spicy aromas filled the kitchen as she gave it a stir with the large wooden spoon. It was thick enough that she was happy with it, and she had babied it enough so that it wouldn't burn to the bottom of the pot as it took its sweet time cooking down all day. "I am still here and I am still me, so I think it went really well," she turned back to the table, smiling at him. "Sivan was very thorough with the preparations, as much as we could have been, anyway - I had a lot of reading and studying to do at home, and when I have been visiting him, we went over what I'd been learning. He's an incredible teacher."

She set the table, bowls and plates and spoons and knives, cups, and asked Sviras if she might properly introduce them. Torin had caught his attention with his silent greeting, and after a long moment, Sviras nodded. He seemed to be close with Sivan, the other spirits here were rather at ease with him, including Exael. In lieu of experience with these strangers, he would trust the judgment of Sivan's aidolon. "This is Sviras. He was one of four spirits that I found. There were three others there, but it was to him that I went. He and I found our way back, with help from Sivan and Exael." She lowered an arm, and the feathery serpent left the safety of her shoulders to go to the table, coiling up on himself and studying the runeforger.

The young woman was a whirling dervish in the kitchen, because once the table was set and Sviras was inspecting Torin with ruby red eyes, she was opening the oven, using a thick pair of mittens to retrieve a large dish with a rather conical lid. It went on top of the oven, and she lifted that lid to check on the doneness of the potatoes with a fork, poking a number of them and giving a satisfied nod. She transferred the rounded dish that had just come from the oven to the table, putting it on a trivet, revealing layers upon layers of potatoes cooked with carrots and tomatoes, herbs, and seasoning. "That will be perfect," she was happy to see the drink that Sivan had brought up. She wouldn't admit it to Vasilei, but she did like her Summoning paedagogus' mead more than his.

With the oven mitts still protecting her hands, Sviras shifted his position on the table away from where the pot was going to land, and Hilana moved the cauldron of beef stew over next. A dish of celery leaves was put down for garnish, flavour, and tender greenery. The butter dish had been warming so that it would be spreadable on the buns in the basket, and with that, dinner was prepared. For Sivan, Hilana had been cooking the foods of her homeland since she had arrived, and these were likely now familiar. For Torin, it would likely be new and different layers of flavour combinations and spices than he was used to, but she did hope he would enjoy it.

The stew was fairly traditional - bite-sized chunks of beef with carrots, onion, celery, and tomatoes, with garlic, cilantro, cumin, multiple types of peppers among other herbs and spices, and oddly, chopped, dried apricots. "The celery leaves can be sprinkled on top of the stew," she advised. "I figured if you'd been hard at work today, you'd like something that would stick to your ribs," Hilana looked from one to the other. The cloth was removed from the buns, revealing fat, round rolls that had a good crust on the outside, while being pillowy-soft in the middle. While she knew that Kalzasi was quite fond of heat, she knew some people didn't quite appreciate it, so she had gone for balance: the warming spices that packed punches of flavour, without eviscerating one's palate with heat. Finesse was the name of the game.

Sviras would come back to Hilana once she sat down, the spirit settling upon her shoulders once more as if to say 'his'. "So how was your day?" she looked from one to the other. She'd let them take up their food first before helping herself. Old habits died hard.

[Torin Kilvin]

Torin listened, content and interested, gently examining the new magic signature as Hilana explained it. His probing was barely there, the brush of fingertips over a newborn creature, or a just-healed scar. His high level of Semblance allowed him to brute force information from nearly anything, but he almost never used it that way. Rather, the strengthening of his ability showed itself in the tiny details he could glean, in the depth of information he could get without exerting any pressure at all.

Sometimes he imagined that the magical items he examined did not like to have all their secrets ripped from them, preferring to have them coaxed and teased out. It wasn't something he was embarrassed about, anymore, believing that magical objects had wills of their own. It also wasn't something he spoke to very many people about, but Sivan understood. He thought that Hilana might too, but was too intent on listening to the tale of her initiation to consider changing the topic of conversation. Nodding and murmuring to show his attention as they went, he added little comments when they felt appropriate.

"Sivan is very through." Was the first of these, without any realization that, from a lover, it could mean many things. "I've learned so much from him."

The introduction was not unexpected, but he hadn't been looking for it. Exael could make himself visible to the uninitiated eye at will, and Torin knew that all Aidolons could, but not if it was an ability they had as soon as they were bonded, or learned with time. He could see all the spirits easily through his passive Semblance, unless they were trying to hide themselves intentionally. Every being deserved privacy, so if he happened to feel that there was something concealing itself, he scanned it for ill intent and, if he found none, didn't pry.

He was not familiar with serpent behavior, so he inclined his head as he would to a person, offering a thread of his own aether as one might offer a hand to be sniffed by an unfamiliar dog. Aether was unique to all living beings, much like scents. Allowing himself to be examined however Sviras wished, he watched Hilana bustle efficiently around Sivan's kitchen. It had been a very long time since he had sat at a table while a woman cooked and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. Hilana was obviously doing it out of gratitude and, it seemed, a love of the work, not any sort of sense that she had to. That made it okay. The thoughts made him realize how rarely he spent any domestic time around women at all. There were parts of himself that he was only beginning to unpack, parts that kept him in boxes that, maybe, he didn't need anymore.

Sivan's mead was the best, and he said so, proclaiming that it was never too cold for it. As the elf poured the drinks, Torin brushed tiny threads of Fire into the liquid to warm it. Hot mead in the winter was just as good as cold mean in the summer. It had taken time to learn to use his Element so carefully. The first time he had tried to re-heat a meal, he'd burned it black and been lucky not to melt the pewter plate.

The food was, by appearance, fare that he was used to. By scent, it was entirely new. Beef stew was beef stew, though, right? He accepted the portions he was offered of everything with his thanks and began to dig in.