Flashes of Color [Ell]

[Lyrt]

Yren stood in a clearing by the riverbed surrounded by a multitude of empty shallow pots. His untidy was for once hair was pinned back neatly from his large blue eyes that were oddly focused on his task. He slowly stirred a vat filled with a thick and almost milky substance that was splattered over his clothes and coated his hands. Yet there was a soft smile on his face as he leaned over it tottering dangerously on a stool as he poured on a small bag of powdered sand bit by bit mixing it in gradually.

A soft melody flowed from his lips as he worked seeming oddly at ease with the clandestine nature of his lair in the woods. The trees were thick with leaves obscuring the clearing from anyone who would just be strolling through the woods by chance. He was not doing anything really wrong in a sense Though somehow having his own secret glaze lab away from his master seemed to be a slight...there were no words to describe the feeling. Doing something he enjoyed yet it being somehow morally incorrect. Was it embarrassment or guilt?

Once it seemed to be blended together well enough he picked up one of the shallow clay pots and dipped it carefully in inside the vat only filling it halfway before setting it aside onto the ground. There was no mistake in his movements, no sense of clumsiness, only precise executions coming from long hours of practice.

Soon enough the pots were all filled and strewn about the clearing the young elf continuing to sing as he bent over one of the many pouring some odd powders in and shaking it from side to side to mix it loosely. It was so peaceful working all alone like this without the elder elf rapping on the back of his head with a stick when he did something he disliked.

Never would he disrespect his master's teaching methods yet...it was far easier to learn by himself like this at times without the walls placed up with can and cannot. Like it was far easier to understand the use for a plant by observing the animals interacting with it then just reading and memorizing it from a book.

The boy chuckled falling back onto the soft forest loam and closing his eyes trying to think up a new shade to try. There were far too many to choose from. The soft rainbow that flickered across a fish's scales as they swam in pools of sunlight was something he still wanted to create. He had tried so many times to recreate that same shade yet every time the colors blended up into an odd dark brown.

Suddenly his eyes sprang open and he moved about carefully as to not step into any of the bowls. A new idea had sprung up suddenly and he danced about dropping various liquids and powders into bowls singing happily all the while. What if the problem was not application but the mixing? If he poured them together and rolled a piece in it how would it-

A root seemed to have appeared from nowhere and rudely interrupting his work. Yren stepped back and turned about to go for his bag for some more ingredients as his foot slammed into it his arms waving wildly as he stumbled backwards trying to regain his balance with a loud cry of surprise. He toppled over into a thicket of brambles the thorns digging into his limbs and tearing his clothes. A soft hiss of pain slipped through his clenched teeth the boy's eyes wide as he tried to stand up the thorns only cutting in deeper "ah...ow..."

[Elloria]

Josk stormed out of Malakian Headquarters, his clothes burnt or torn in several places and his hair in wild disarray. Several younger elves – all women and all his assistants – were scurrying behind him. “Danta-ebrithil, please don’t run off! What will we tell Lieutenant Vencari? She won’t be happy about the labs being left in shambles again! She might punish us! Please, ebrithil, come back!” He whirled around and leveled a glare at the women. They immediately froze in their tracks as the guards in the building looked on. The guards were all long-time male Drones who had seen many a rage-quit from the young head of the Danta house in the decades since the mage had become the Head of Torture and Interrogation of Malakian Company. And it was still early in the evening; the sun hadn’t even set yet, so whatever had set the mage off was sure to result in a tongue-lashing of cringe-inducing proportions. The assistants, on the other hand, were all relatively new and had yet to witness a rage-quit. One of them stepped forward to make another plea, reaching out to touch his arm. “Danta-ebrithil-”

SMACK! No, the young Danta never disappointed.

The young woman went reeling back into her compatriots with an indignant squeak. A bright red hand-shaped mark bloomed on her face as Josk took a step towards his assistants, towering over them. “Do you know what will make Lieutenant Vencari even more displeased?” His voice was soft like the caress of the expensive sapphire-blue silk outfit that was currently tattered on his person and low, almost rumbling in his chest. The normally gentle glow that his pale skin gave off seemed to be amplified by the moonlight and his quiet rage. The combined effect of his voice and appearance sent a shiver through the witnesses, though it was almost impossible to define the emotions behind those shivers.

He took another step towards them. “She will be displeased at the lack of results we are having with these tests. She will be displeased that your idiocy has set my research back by months, if not years. She will be displeased that you are continuing to hamper my work for the company and for the Hive. That is what she will be displeased by.” His voice dropped even lower as he leaned down to get right in the face of the woman who had touched him. “So my suggestion to you lovely ladies is to get your asses back in there and start cleaning up the mess you’ve made of my lab before I decide you would better serve the Hive as test subjects,” he finished, hissing the last part of his threat before whirling back around and resuming his storming off.

+++++++++++
An hour later:

Josk took a deep breath as he finally calmed down. That girl – whatever her name was – probably hadn’t deserved to be slapped. She was new. They all were. Of course he shouldn’t have expected them to handle all the delicate procedures required for this latest experiment in interrogative techniques. How could he have possibly expected them to keep an eye on the flames, the spinning blades, the acids, that new centipede-like creature that delighted in living flesh and the test subjects? They weren’t properly trained for any of that yet! He rubbed his face morosely. They all thought that T&I was an easy department to work in – no fights, no dangerous missions in remote locations, just torturing and/or interrogating fools that had crossed the Hive. None of them understood the complexities of the techniques or that T&I also doubled as research – because that was just a thing for Josk and Vencari seemed to approve of his inquisitiveness. He would have to talk with Vencari about these new recruits that she kept throwing at him. His testing was vexatious enough without the idiots setting him back who knows how long with their puerile antics. He sighed. That was not a conversation he was looking forward to.

He plopped down onto a stone and finally took stock of his surroundings. He was somewhere along the river that ran through Ellesmera, though he only knew that was the case because he could see the city some distance away. He had come quite a distance in his mad flight from HQ. He shook his head and looked down at his ruined shirt and trousers. There were rips and singed holes everywhere on the front of it – though thankfully not anywhere that could have proved embarrassing. Some were dangerously high on his upper thigh, but they were closer to the hip rather than the inner thigh. He rubbed his face again, this time in frustration. The sheer farcicality of what he had to deal with – it never ceased to astound and infuriate him. He huffed and kicked at the ground when a shout of surprise reached his ears. He looked in the direction of the sound, curious as to who would be out in the forest at this time of night. Granted, it was still fairly light out – the sun was not yet completely gone beneath the horizon – but even so. If an elf was going to be out in the woods at night, they tended to be further from Ellesmera than this.

Curious, Josk rose from his seat and followed the sounds of struggling until he reached a clearing. What met his gaze was perhaps one of the funniest things he had seen in a while. He probably shouldn’t have found the sight of Yren practically ripping himself to shreds in some brambles to be quite as hysterical as he did. But he was always a bit more sadistic after he left Malakian HQ than when he entered it. He wouldn’t “reset” until he had a good day’s sleep. It was even more amusing as it called up images of Niko in very similar predicaments when they were children. So he just couldn’t help but start laughing, resonant and clear like a bell, as he watched the boy struggle. He laughed for several seconds before subsiding into quiet chuckles. When he had himself back under control, he called out, “You seem a bit stuck, little bird. Would you like some help from your thorny snare?”

[Lyrt]

He struggled for a bit, the thorns cutting in deeply to his limbs as he succeeding in getting himself more and more tangled up in its embrace. They hurt...each thorn causation its own individual drop of agony as it dug in bringing up little crimson drops of blood that stained his already torn soft cotton shirt. It was one he liked the most out of all of his clothes, soft and comfortable against his skin never chafing it in the slightest.

The more he moved the more the open wounds burned the thorns digging in deeper and deeper with every movement. The young elf was tangled in far too deeply to crawl out without shredding his skin. Soft gold strands soon got caught into the web as well, leaving him trying to balance on his heel, trying not to lean up and tub on his head, yet trying not to lean back deeper into the nest.

Yren wanted to call out desperately but there was no one to call out too, he was stuck until he could figure out a way to get out. He was all alone, alone out in the woods the night drawing closer and closer as the sun hid behind the horizon. No one would be about anymore, at least not until the sun was at its highest in the sky the next day. Even then it was doubtful he would be found, it was far too secluded where he was ensnared. Hidden away from most people's eyes unless they knew just where to look.

He bit into his lip struggling to stay as calm as he could, if he got too worked up he would only succeed in getting more and more tangled up. Warm tears started to well up in the corner of his eyes and he shut his eyes tightly trying not to let them flow, crying would not help him at all.

Yet he heard footsteps and hurriedly tried to untangle himself a thorn scraping across his cheek they boy letting out a soft cry. As he wallowed in his pain a soft light tinkling laugh started up and he cracked open his soft blue eyes staring up at the elder elf. "J-josk?" he asked softly staring up at him in utter confusion, what was he doing out here at this time of day?

"I...yes...I can't get out..." the boy's voice was soft, cracking slightly as he tried to keep control over himself. He blinked furiously trying to drive away the tears before he saw them "I-I got caught~" he forced a chuckle and smiled sheepishly up at him.

[Elloria]

(OOC: This is the tune he's humming/singing to.)


Josk shook his head in amusement. Was there anyone quite as clumsy as this boy? How had Yren even managed to tumble into the thorns without knocking over any of the shallow pots scattered around the clearing? Given the youth’s propensity for accidents, it was really a rather remarkable feat. He supposed there was no helping it. Niko had been somewhat like that when he and Josk were very young, but Ilirea had trained that gracelessness out of Josk’s baby brother. A pity it hadn’t succeeded in doing so with this one. With a shrug at the thought, Josk moved forward with fluid strides until he was right beside where Yren was currently trapped in. They appeared to be youngberry brambles. Interesting – Yren certainly seemed to love fruits and berries, didn’t he? Josk tsked – this wasn’t going to be easy. The plants were digging themselves in deeply, probably under the assumption that Yren was seeking for fruits that weren’t quite ripe yet.

Relaxing his entire body, Josk delved into the youngberry plants and began to hum a quiet, pleasant tune. He hummed until there was almost no distinction between the warmth of his body and the warmth of the plants. When he reaches that point, the humming transforms into a slow melodic song.

“Peace is what you wish to know.
Peace you cannot find.
Peace is why these brambles grow,
to protect you from our kind.

We steal your children
from your stems.
We do not know
the worth of those gems.

But this one would not break your peace.
This one will not steal your gems.
Withdraw your thorns – I beg you please.
Deliver him from your armored stems.”

With each word, the brambles seemed to pull away from the youth. As his song faded Josk reached forward and gently pulled Yren out of the painful snare, with minimal fuss and scraping from the thorns. The mage shivered, as he always did when communing with plants. They were far more alien than any animal, yet far more intriguing because of that. For all their simplicity, plants could be as complex as a dragon and there were few who understood that, even among the elves. Shoving the thought aside, Josk began taking stock of Yren’s cuts. They were as numerous as the trees, it seemed, and varied widely in their depth. “Tch. Does anyone even know you are out here on your own?” he asked before he placed his hands over some of the deeper cuts and murmured a healing spell.

[Lyrt]

Yren stared up quietly as Josk stepped closer and closer to the ensnared boy. Was the elder elf going to lend his assistance or was he going to just walk away and pretend to have never seen him. It was impossible to tell just by his expression, he seemed to have a mask and then a face so the boy couldn't see though.

What would he do if he did attempt to leave him stuck in the forest util someone else came across. Would he beg? Would he cry? Could that even work? Most elves would probably leave the second he shed a tear and Josk was probably the same. All of his people were the same in some way or another, it was slightly frightening to think about with the same expressions on everyone's face

Yet he seemed to wisp out, not literally of course as it would be frightening if he did turn into mist. Yet somehow it was as if he was reaching out, a softly flicker of light he could see when he concentrated on the older man's form. Silk like strands that faded into the air, colorless and opaque like a haze falling over him.

Yren blinked a familiar shiver running down his back as the blue pools widened in shock. What was he doing using magic? Was he going to...what would he do. It was unlikely he would put out the effort unless there was a good reason. All he could do was sit back and wait, Josk was not a bad person, and there was no reason that he should doubt his intentions as anything other than kind.

Yren shut his eyes tightly not wanting to watch what the other was planning on doing. The more he stared the more he would worry, and it was rare for him to doubt anyone. But somehow being stuck in a bush was making him paranoid. He would apologize properly to Josk after for doubting him and then mayb-

A rich voice sliced through his thoughts, melodious and deep the words overtaking his mind. It was almost as if the boy was in a trace as he sang the song's words warming him. The brambles slid away smoothly from around him and retreated back into their form before he had taken a spill into their embrace.

It took him a few moments to realize he was free from his thorny captor and for his mind to return fully to his body the pain hitting him in a stinging wave. He let out a soft hiss as one was brushed quickly biting his lip to silence himself as Josk began to heal the worst of them.

"I...Thank you Josk" he mumbled staring at his hands "I am sorry for troubling you to help...and..." he looked guiltily at the nearby stream not wanting to look him in the eye from shame. "I am sorry for doubting that you would help..." He raised up a hand and combed hastily through his knotted hair trying to make himself look more presentable.

"No..." the young elf replied hesitantly to Josk's inquiry his heart starting to race from nerves and his face showed it. He never wanted to cause any trouble at all but somehow he could not avoid being at the center at it. "No one knows I am here...I just told Master I was going to sleep and slipped out here..."

He did want to question Josk's disheveled appearance and why he was even out in the forest but it would be hard to press on his kindness. Either ways he was not even in the mood to pester like he would usually. All he wanted was too...he did not even know anymore

[Elloria]

Josk sighed heavily as Yren apologized. He really had cultivated a rather cruel persona, hadn’t he? It wasn’t that he didn’t necessarily like helping other people. He just valued his own hide more and the crones in the Hive would latch onto any weakness they sensed among the male members of the organization. A man had to be ruthless to keep the hags away and maintain some sense of independence. Or perhaps Yren’s attitude was due to the general aloofness that most elves projected to the outside world. After all, the boy was the polar opposite of what was expected in an elf. Regardless, this kind of behavior was just reckless. The boy would’ve been stuck here for a while if Josk hadn’t come along – if only because Yren hadn’t thought to ask the plants to let him go. And who knows what kind of damage would have been done to Yren’s body as a result? Josk clucked his tongue in disapproval, resisting a yawn as he tapped into the energy pool in his ring to continue healing the deeper cuts. “What on earth were you doing out here that required such duplicity?”

[Lyrt]

Yren hung his head at Josk's open display of disapproval a flush rising in his cheeks from his utter embarrassment of...just everything. Being caught in brambles so stupidly, getting oh so tangled in them to boot. Then being caught by Josk was without a doubt was the worst part of it. He doubted that the elder elf would go so far to keep it all secret. He had no problem with it...morally. Lying was wrong in his eyes, they piled up higher and higher forming an intricate web of lies and deceit. Then with a single thread loose it could all crumble into a heap of madness and chaos.

Inevitably lying came back to bite someone for continuing to do so, and it seemed it was coming to bite the young elf for lying to Master Nhaésdar about what he was practicing without permission. At least it was not magic...if it was magic it would be worse, he did swear an oath not to use any until he was given permission to do so. "I was...working on making glazes...I like doing it...but...improving a skill right in front of my master that he has not given approval on is rude...and unappreciative...so I am ashamed...thats why I was keeping it a secret..."

He watched Josk heal his wounds enjoying the kind warmth that the magic brought with it. "I like it out here, its quiet and pretty, this time of day....well it was before..." he stared up at the dark sky the stars starting to peek out. "You can see the stars here better than anywhere else, no other light drowns them out...not at all..."

The boy's soft blue eyes began to flutter closed the boy trying hard to fish the exhaustion that was overtaking him. He just wanted to rest his mind which was unable to focus on anything. It all just seemed to fuzzy...or fluffy...either one just seemed so comforting. "I...please just dont..." his head drooped forward Yren unable to muster the strength to keep it up. "Just dont tell...my master...it would make him...unhappy...so..ple...."

He fell forward against Josk breathing easily in sleep his head resting on the elder's shoulder. "D..ont...." he mumbled in his slumber oddly comfortable in his position his arms hanging awkwardly at his side.

[Elloria]

Did this boy just lack all common sense? The young elf obviously found glazes fascinating enough to maintain his focus and the work showed that he possessed some ingenuity (one would assume). Anyone calling themselves master would encourage that ingenuity – within reason, of course. If Nhaésdar had any sense, he would allow Yren to work on glazes in the safety of the workshop. At the very least the potter would have known where the boy was and set some sort of time restraint so that if the boy wound up in trouble – like right now – then Nhaésdar would know to come looking. Josk supposed Yren feared his master’s disapproval – just not enough to stop the boy from making moronic decisions.

This train of thought and Yren’s continued babbling carried Josk through the healing of Yren’s major cuts. The rest could be handled with salves and time, so the mage had no intention of wasting more energy on the task. What he had accomplished, however, was more than satisfactory. So, with a quiet pleased hum, he ended his spell – just in time for Yren to fall forward and rest his head against Josk’s shoulder, mumbling something from his awkward position. Josk remained stiffly frozen in place. Was this really happening right now? He was not particularly in the mood to deal with a midget elf using his shoulder as a pillow right now…even if some very small, deeply buried and previously presumed dead part of him found it somewhat endearing.

Josk promptly shoved the thought aside. The last thing he needed was to start feeling sentimental. It was bad enough when Niko would occasionally show up and he’d become just plain maudlin. He didn’t need another external source of feel-good-emotion in his life. So off-putting was the thought that he was quite tempted to shove the midget away from him and just leave Yren to his fate. But Josk’s sense of common decency – which did exist, contrary to the popular belief he had spent years cultivating in those he interacted with – wouldn’t stand for that reaction. He tried to gingerly shake the boy awake, but beyond more mumbling there was no discernible effect. The mage gave a long-suffering sigh. This was what he got for trying to be a civil individual – a shoulder-full of…midget elf potter-in-training. Josk flicked his gaze around the clearing. He couldn’t leave Yren here, unattended. However, he also had no idea where the boy lived. He was equally ignorant as to Nhaésdar’s living arrangements. Josk closed his eyes in frustration. He essentially had little choice but to bring Yren either to Malakian HQ – which was absolutely out of the question, no matter how desperately he wished to return to his work – or to the Danta estate – which was equally undesirable, but far more workable. And there were clothes at the estate. Josk would just have to send Amandil to headquarters once he returned and have the young man inform the assistants that they could leave for the night as well as giving the mage’s apologies to Vencari.

With another sigh, Josk carefully scooped Yren up. After murmuring a brief spell to divert attention from him – he certainly had no desire to be seen carrying this child into Ellesmera in the state they were both in; that would just be embarrassing – and another to Yren’s handiwork with the glazes, the mage set off towards Ellesmera and his home.

+++++++++++
90 minutes later:

Josk was muttering angrily under his breath by the time he finally arrived at the estate. Between the two spells he had cast and carrying Yren back here, he was tired and famished - neither of which was ever conducive to a good mood. He ended the diversion spell so that his guards would notice and open the gates quickly for him because the sooner he could dump the boy onto some surface that wasn’t supported by his arms, the better. The guards were wise enough to not even look oddly at the young family head as he stormed through the gates and up the path to the manor. He arrived at the door about ten minutes later, thankful for his family’s foresight when Tathar opened the door with a slightly puzzled expression. “Danta-ebrithil –”

“Drop the ebrithil, Tathar-vor. The last thing I wish to be called by anyone right now is master.”

Tathar raised an eyebrow at his lord, but did not question the order. When Josk held Yren out to the older elf, Tathar willingly took the boy in his arms though not without question. “Is there a reason you are carrying a young wounded man into the estate with your clothes burned and torn asunder?” There was gentle jesting underneath his curious tone, but also some concern. The mage did not bring people back to the estate in any condition unless it was for business or familial matters.

Josk sneered. “Because nothing brings me greater delight than finding ever-more convoluted manners in which to bewilder my servants. Are you in the business of asking useless questions or of aiding me in whatever manner I may need?” Tathar snorted as Josk swept past him and headed towards the study, falling in step behind the younger elf. Once at the study door, the mage placed a hand on the polished wood door and murmured, “Open.” A soft rush of magic and the door slid silently into the adjacent wall. Josk stepped through the opening into the spacious study. Three of the walls were lined top to bottom with shelves of books, many several centuries older than Josk. A large desk sat directly across from the door, growing straight out of the floor. Its surface was littered with its usual assortment of documents pertaining to family and business matters, a book or two, a quill pen and inkstand, and a paper weight shaped like a dragon taking flight. The wall on the left was a massive, intricately detailed map of Alagaësia. Beneath it was a large fire pit filled with firewood in varying degrees of burnt, as the wood had been enchanted to burn slower longer when set alight with magic. A quick spell set the firewood ablaze, filling the study with cheerful light.

Scattered around the study were large, comfortable leather chairs perfect for curling up in with a good book as well as several sofas and lounge chairs for reclining and reading. Josk paid no attention to any of this beyond gesturing towards one of the lounge chairs as an indication that Tathar should set Yren down on it. As the servant fulfilled the silent order, the mage wandered over to his desk and sat in the worn brown leather chair behind it. Searching the desk drawers, he found some blank parchment in one of the middle drawers and pulled a piece out. He then contemplated his messy desk, shrugged, and shoved the papers off to the sides so that there were large, disorganized piles surrounding a sizable clear space in the center of the desk. Satisfied, he set the parchment down, picked up his pen, dipped it in ink and began scribbling a message to Vencari. Without looking up from his work, he said, “Tathar, fetch Amandil. And while you are at it, grab a salve and some bandages from the healing station as well as a pillow and a blanket for the midget over there. And something for me to eat and drink…and a change of clothes.” Tathar nodded and left without a word to fulfill Josk’s requests.

[Lyrt]

Yren lay comfortably curled up his head resting delicately on his arm as he breathed softly. His hair lay splayed about his head like a lions mane, the golden strands still matted and covered in mud from his time wrapped up in the brambles. Yet those wounds that had not been tended too were scabbed.

A blanket was placed over him and a pillow lodged under his head the boy letting out a childlike whine about the momentary discomfort. Yet as soon as it all was still he pulled the blankets about himself nestling comfortably into his little cocoon.

His dreams were filled with bright colors and soft sounds and an overwhelming sense of overall comfort. It was almost as if he was sleeping on air, he was floating. His head was empty of all thought for once and it felt nice to just lay among the clouds. But it was far too warm, his skin suddenly felt coarse.

Slowly he began to rouse shifting uncomfortably under the thick blanket. He was getting far too warm and he wanted it to stop desperately. Sluggishly he clawed at his shirt and then the warm blanket wrapped around him. Peeling it away from his heated skin with some difficulty he tossed it onto the floor and curled back up into a tight ball hugging the soft pillow to his chest.

For some reason his bed was oddly soft compared to the usual. In no way was his bed uncomfortable, he had grown used to the large niche in the wall of his room above the workshop. It was homey, though the beds in Ilirea was what he was most accustomed to.

Blue pools slowly fluttered open the young elf obviously dazed as he stared around with misted eyes. This...was not his room, nor anywhere he could recall being. Slowly he uncurled himself staring down at the soft linen pillow he was hugging curiously a dirty head print marring the soft white color.

He placed it nearly beside him on the chair and moved to retrieve the heavy velvet blanket he had kicked onto the floor before. Wherever he was it was rude to just leave them there, someone had been kind enough to allow him to use them.

Finally he stared to glance around the odd room still in a slight daze as he stood up. A large map caught his eye and he slipped over examining it curiously for a moment before staring around some more and crouching down by the fire for a moment before staring around some more.

The young elf started to hum the melody that Josk has sung to before surprisingly not missing a note considering he had only heard it once. Yet...when did he fall asleep? Now that he thought about it the last place he remembered was sitting while the elder elf tended his wounds.

He spun falling silent as he stared to the figure sitting behind the desk "Josk..." The boy broke into a warm smile chuckling sheepishly "ah, hello, how are you?" Yren was slightly unsure what was to be said "I...well..." Softly he twiddled his thumbs staring around some more his eyes wide as his stomach let out a loud rumble.

"W-what time is it?" he asked hurriedly disregarding the sound as a thought crossed his mind. If his master found that he was missing in the morning he would not even begin to think of the consequences. The boy spun around in place combing with his eyes around the chair awoke in. Where was his bag?

[Elloria]

Josk yawned as he set down the swan quill pen and waited for the ink to dry. His relatively sincere apology should be enough to quell any angry tirades that were to be directed at him for his indiscretion towards his new assistants. There was nothing to do now but wait for Tathar to return with Amandil and Josk’s requested items. It took another twenty minutes, by which point Josk had started to doze slightly. The mage jerked out of his doze as Tathar set a bowl of creamy tomato soup and a steaming cup of green chai in front of him. Amandil stood slightly to the older servant’s left, holding the requested change of clothes as well as a healing salve and bandages. Leaning slightly to his right, Josk could see that they had already delivered the pillow and blanket to Yren’s sleeping form. The mage cringed slightly upon realizing that the young elf was still covered in dirt and debris from his bramble escapades. If the mage had been less tired, he would have noticed that before going to all the trouble – especially since he was wearing a silk shirt, as usual, and silk could be so difficult to clean up. Not only that, but Tathar had given Yren a good velvet blanket, too. He sighed in exasperation at himself – and a bit at Tathar as well for his passive-aggressive punishment of Josk’s earlier snark.

“Thank you, Tathar. Amandil, just set them on one of the less-precarious piles on my desk,” Josk said as he folded the now-dry letter up and magically sealed it. The young elf nodded and complied. Once his hands were empty, Josk handed the letter to him. “Take that to Vencari directly. Tell the guards that it is a direct order from Josk Danta.” Amandil nodded and left the study without a word. As the young elf left, Josk stared blankly at the clothes and food now set on his desk. He couldn’t decide which he wanted to deal with first: the growling in his stomach or getting into fresh clothes. “The bowl and cup will keep your food and drink warm for a while, sir. Might I suggest changing first? I know how you despise being covered in filth.”

Josk did not even bother looking up at Tathar. “Thank you, Tathar.” The older servant frowned slightly, noting the emptiness in his lord’s tone. He was not exactly comfortable leaving the young Danta alone right now, but there would be no getting through to the mage in this state of mind. Tathar glanced over at the young elf his master had brought home. “Leave him be, Tathar. I will attend to things. You may go now.” Tathar looked back at Josk before bowing slightly and taking his leave, sincerely hoping that he would return later to find the young elf unharmed by his lord.

Josk sat unmoving at his desk, staring unseeing at its surface for about ten minutes. His mind simply drifted and only distantly recognized that he was suffering from magical exhaustion. He could feel his body’s desire for more fuel but could not compel himself to eat. It made him wish that Niko were there. Niko would force the older twin to eat, would even lend a bit of energy to Josk so that the older twin was not so thoroughly drained and listless. Why was he so tired? The spells should not have been as draining as this. He wondered if perhaps the spell around the clearing was the cause. It was a great distance from home and he may have not made it a finite spell in his haste to get home. He tiredly led his mind to the nub of magic and could still feel it pulsing. Interesting – he was normally not so careless. With a sigh of relief, he carefully reworked the spell and noticed a marked improvement once it was given a set amount of energy from the surrounding clearing and was no longer drawing on Josk’s reserves. Stupid Yren. Stupid sentimentality. What the hell was he thinking, helping the brat? He should have just left the boy in the clearing to meddle out of the mess alone.

In a feverish burst of energy, Josk stripped off the filthy ruined outfit – uncaring that the brat was mere feet away and could awaken at any moment – and tossed the whole mess over his desk to lie in a pile on the other side. The energy lasted long enough for him to pull on the pajama pants that Amandil had brought before he was just as suddenly done with moving and flopped back into his chair sullenly. What was wrong with him the past year or so? He did not place such high value on a person unless they had proven they were worth his time. This brat had certainly not done that. If nothing else, Yren had proven to be nothing short of insufferable. But ever since he had met Jeralt – and after him, Addison – he had been so…nice. Nice by his own standards at least, which was to say he hadn’t threatened to obliterate Yren the very first time the boy had violated the mage’s personal space. He should’ve slapped the boy, at the very least. When had he become so damn soft? He had even felt genuinely bad for slapping that assistant for her incompetence! Damn this saccharine attitude!

With an irritated grunt, Josk shoved the thought from his mind and leaned forward to devour the tomato soup. It was as creamy and savory as he liked it, but he hardly noticed around the bitter taste in his mouth. As much as he wasn’t directly thinking about it, his frustration and resentment was still an overwhelming presence in his mind. So he ate the soup without really tasting it, noting only that his energy was almost immediately boosted after he finished twenty minutes later. He could only assume Tathar had included some energy-boosting herbs to the soup as well. It was the servant’s usual thoughtfulness coming through in spite of the oft-harsh way Josk spoke to him. The mage couldn’t decide if that pleased him or pissed him off more.

He picked up the steaming green chai and slumped back in his chair. He stared at the desk again, occasionally sipping at the tea. He felt less tired now that he had eaten, but no less irritated. He brooded over his tea for another half hour, at which point Yren finally woke up. The mage watched with dark predatory eyes as the boy first folded up the blanket, set it on the chair with the pillow, then moved to look at the map of Alagaesia and the fire pit with the tune Josk had sung to the youngberry plants being hummed quietly. A distant part of the mage’s mind was impressed that the boy remembered the tune. That part was drowned out by the overwhelming resentment he felt towards Yren. When the boy spun around and finally noticed him, Josk said nothing at first. He let the boy splutter for a bit, inwardly smirking at the loud rumble that momentarily silenced Yren. A shame the mage had eaten so quickly. He could have teased the boy with the tantalizing aroma of the food while Josk ate his fill. Ah, well.

“W-what time is it?” Even as the words left the boy’s mouth, he was spinning around looking for something. Josk let him look fruitlessly around for a few moments before finally speaking.

“It is midnight, at most. Now are you going to continue spinning around like the useless toy that you are or are you going to let me finish treating your wounds so that you can be gone from my presence?”

[Lyrt]

Yren stared long and hard about the room searching quickly for his bag, he needed it! He had all of his tools he needed daily in that bag, and it would be horrible if his master found him to be missing it. The forest was dangerous this late at night and there would be no time at dawn for him to retrieve it.

A good beating was headed his way, he could tell that his master would be furious that he misplaced them. Yet there was little that he could do to avoid it anymore. It was his fault after all, he had to accept the punishment that would be given to him, it was no one's fault but his own.

He held back a sigh not wanting to seem at all ungrateful to Josk for carrying him here, or dragging. Being asleep he was not very alert, obviously. The boy was always a little moody for a short while after he had woken. All he really felt like doing was just curling up on the soft rug, or one of the armchairs and sulking for hours.

Wallowing in self pity about the beating he would potentially receive was not productive and he did not like it one bit. Suddenly he reached up slamming both of his palms hard into his cheeks with a loud slap jerking himself back to his senses. His cheeks were imprinted in pink with his hand prints yet his eyes seemed to have cleared, Yren suddenly completely awake.

“It is midnight, at most. Now are you going to continue spinning around like the useless toy that you are or are you going to let me finish treating your wounds so that you can be gone from my presence?”

His attention snapped back to the older Elf immediately as he spoke drawing all of the room to focus on him. He was missing his shirt, and the young elf's gaze was stuck there having noticed the pile of dirty clothes. The desk blocked his view of below, and there was a slight worry brewing in the back of his mind that Josk had simply gone commando.

Taking care to avoid staring at the perfectly smooth and frighteningly flawless bare skin. Women must go after him with knives trying to peel it from him for one of their... he reached up slapping his cheeks again flinching from the pain. He had to stop being so moody in the mornings. Such thoughts weren't to be thought of!

Trying to loose the horrid thoughts from his mind Yren bent down retrieving the filthy clothes and folding them neatly. Even if they were dirty they didn't deserve to be tossed so haphazardly on the floor. He set them neatly on the desk giving an approving bob of his head.

Finally he stared up at Josk taking care not to glance anywhere below his chin. "Josk...did you see my bag?" he asked breaking into a large smile while he rubbed at his once again sleepy eyes. It was late, he should have been asleep. "Ah...you took care of the worst of them, thank you very much!"

He bobbed his head in acknowledgement of the kindness Josk had shown him. "You already have done much, so...I am truly thankful that you stopped to help me. There really is nothing that you need to do. I am thankful enough already, so thank you very very truly!" He nodded moving towards the door "I...will go now then."

He stepped out of the room quickly his foot getting caught on a rug and launching him across the hallway and head first into the wall with a soft his off pain. The boy sat stunned his fatigue making him move in an oddly sluggish manor. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose trying to stop the slow trickle of blood.

Still disoriented he straightened up placing his hand on the wall as he took slow small steps down the hall finally feeling fully awake.

[Elloria]

Josk quirked an eyebrow as Yren stared at the mage’s skin. He couldn’t say he was surprised at the youth’s reaction. Many people, elves and human alike, frequently stared if he went around shirtless – which was why he usually didn’t. They were never going to have his skin, so why subject himself to the discomfort of their envious and desirous stares? It wasn’t his fault that none of them could be bothered to figure out how to maintain the children’s glow or to keep their skin as flawless as his own. At least Yren wasn’t stupefied or something by the sight of Josk’s torso. Though really, the mage was less than pleased that the boy took it upon himself to set Josk’s filthy clothes on the desk – on top of all the important paperwork and whatnot that Josk had to deal with daily. He smacked the clothes off almost immediately, lest they potentially ruin something important. Stupid boy.

But what was this about a bag? The mage hadn’t brought a bag back with him. Frankly, he hadn’t even noticed that there might be a bag in the clearing. Was he supposed to think of everything? No. No he was not.

“You already have done much, so...I am truly thankful that you stopped to help me. There really is nothing that you need to do. I am thankful enough already, so thank you very very truly! I...will go now then.”

Josk closed his eyes in irritation as the boy tripped on a very expensive rug and slammed face-first into the wall opposite the study’s door. How did he always manage to attract the most awkward males into his home? It was like he wore a sign that said Socially awkward man-boys: drool over me in the comfort of my manor home! He needed to stop going outside the house for anything other than work – though admittedly even that wouldn’t protect him from the SAMBs of the world.

He waited a few minutes, knowing that Tathar was nearby and would snag the boy before he got too far in the wrong direction. Despite the fact that the interior was circular, it was easy to get lost in the large house – especially when one was tired and dazed, like Yren undoubtedly was. It just made the mage rub his temples to dispel an oncoming headache. He should just go to bed and let Tathar take care of things. But no, the servant would just bring Yren back to the study upon seeing that the boy hadn’t been treated yet. Of course, Tathar did not disappoint.

“I bumped into this as it was headed towards the kitchens, my lord.”

Josk cracked an eye open to glare at the image of his servant carrying the boy in his arms like some fresh young bride. There was something rather…appealing about the image. One might almost call it an adorable sight, even. The mage hastily shoved the thought aside.

He should just let the boy go. What did he care about how well-treated the boy’s wounds were? It was none of his concern, to be perfectly frank. But he could just hear Niko’s nagging in his mind as if the twin was standing right beside him. “Tch. Just patch him up already.” Tathar nodded and, after setting Yren back down on the lounge chair where the youth had been sleeping, retrieved the salve and bandages from Josk’s desk to fulfill the mage’s request. Josk watched silently as Tathar went about his task, the servant occasionally making some soothing remark or other to the boy.

[Lyrt]

Yren stumbled along down the hall his feet dragging behind him. The house was so large! So large it was probably not a house at all, a manor? The decor was a clear indicator that it was not just a mere home but something far grander.

He leaned against the wall giving off a soft sigh his legs aching horribly from fatigue. It was late, he needed to be asleep, in bed! Where he wouldn't get a beating in the morning for not staying where he was supposed to be.

Letting out a soft grumbled of annoyance at the needless complexities of the hallway Yren continued on looking about for a window. The entrance seemed far too hard to find, it would be easier just to leap out and make his way back from there.

Stumbling forward once again his foot catching on another rug Yren found himself in the arms of an elder elf. "So sorry!" he gasped quickly stepping back while the elf reached out helping him regain his balance. "Thank you..." he mumbled sheepishly glancing away.

"Did Danta-ebrithil frighten you off?" he asked with a chuckle while scooping the blond up into his arms and moving back the way Yren had come. The young elf did not protest, he simply let himself be carried off back into the room from before and be set back down. For some reason a loud buzzing was filling his ears making it harder than usual to focus on anything.

The elder elf began to clean his wounds speaking in a soft soothing tone words flying over the exhausted apprentice's head. He nodded and smiled pretending to be alert and chiming in every once in a while for what he was able to follow.

This one was Tathar, unless he mistook the name and it was another's. His touch was gentle and his words kind, and he seemed to know Josk well from the way he acted in his presence. "I...yes....uhuh....mhm..." he mumbled on vision swimming once again. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly his head starting to droop as he started to dose.

[Elloria]

It was quite apparent to Josk that the boy was exhausted and needed to rest. This posed an intriguing problem for the mage. He had no desire to have the boy stay. In fact, he rather desperately wanted the brat to get the hell out of the manor and go home so that he would no longer have to deal with the mind-numbing stupidity. But he knew that Tathar would disapprove of letting the half-asleep boy wander about the nobles’ quarter after dark, undoubtedly getting into all sorts of accidents and trouble. And of course Tathar would snitch about the situation to Niko, who would in turn give Josk an earful about his apparent insensitivity and how he needed to be more generous to people and that he was better than what the Hive was turning him into and all sorts of bothersome comments that would run in a very similar vein that Josk had heard a thousand times before. The last thing he needed was to receive a lecture from his younger brother. There was also the matter of not knowing where exactly the apprentice lived. If Josk knew that, he could just have Tathar or one of his other servants escort Yren home and that would be the end of that.

Josk stood abruptly and walked around his desk, grabbing the pajama shirt as he went. Tathar glanced at him. “Clean him up a bit, find him some clean clothes, and stick him in guest room. Toss his clothes in the wash while you are at it. I am going for a walk.” Tathar said nothing, but watched Josk curiously as the mage stormed out of the study. The fact that the mage was leaving Tathar alone in the study was a testament both to how much he trusted the servant and how pissed off he was at the situation. Regardless, the servant finished patching Yren up, packed everything up, and went about fulfilling his lord’s orders. The sooner he did so, the happier Josk would be.
+++++++++++++
Just before dawn:

The lord of the manor was not seen for the rest of night, much to Tathar’s distress. The servant paced up and down the foyer, waiting for some indication that his master would soon be home. A loud gonging sound resonated through the manor and Tathar sighed in relief. That was probably Danta-ebrithil passing through the front gates. Ten minutes later, the relief was given justification when Danta-ebrithil walked through the door.

In Josk's hands was a simple bag that he had collected from the clearing where he had first found the apprentice. It was filled with various tools of the potter’s trade, which was why he had assumed Yren was so desperate to retrieve it. He still wasn’t sure what had steadily drawn him back to the clearing or what had compelled him to retrieve the bag, but he had and that was all there was going to be to that. He thrust the bag at Tathar, who took it. “Leave it in the boy’s room and then get some tea going. I will be on my balcony.”

Tathar simply nodded as Josk swept past him, smelling of nighttime and the forest. He followed his lord up the stairs, stepping off on the third floor landing to go to one of the many guest rooms. He carefully opened the door and slipped in, not wanting to disturb the sleeping lad. He set the bag down gently on the bedside table and was about to leave when the boy stirred. He looked down at bleary eyes blinking up at him in confusion. “Ah, you are awake. Did you sleep well?”

[Lyrt]

The world swam circles around the young elf's head as he stirred a soft thump rousing him from his sleep. Letting out a loud yawn the boy's aquamarine eyes widened and then slipped into narrowed slits staring blearily up at the elf who had woken him. He looked like a cat, a very disgruntled and cantankerous cat staring down the evil that had woken him from peaceful slumber. His bed above the workshop was comfortable, yet this one was far more so. Yet nothing would ever compare to the winter bedding of his home K'nas in the mountains to the east. So soft and wonderful...furs and thick blankets and absolute silence.

Pushing himself up into a sitting position Yren rubbed sleepily at his eyes staring eerily up at the servant all the while with the same grumpy look. The large linen tunic's collar slipped down around his shoulders, his arms hidden in the enormous sleeves and the extra fabric flapping with every move.

As his mind woke further he took notice of the servant's existence and stopped seeing him as an inanimate object. The dark expression was instantly wiped from his face and he broke into a warm smile giving a soft nod of his head to the man's question. "Yes...I did, thank you very much for asking. Ah...where am I?" He stared around the room in slight confusion his ragged clothing missing and the surroundings once again unfamiliar. He liked that tunic, the rips could be easily fixed so there was no reason for it to be tossed. Hopefully it was safe. He would hate to lose it.

"Tathar?" he asked curiously "that is your name right? I don't remember very well...it is slightly mis- AH!" His eyes strayed over to his bag and the young elf immediately snatched it up and held it close. "It was here the whole time? I must have missed it..."

[Elloria]

Tathar watched in amusement as the boy glared at him with sleep-glazed eyes before slowly realizing what seemed to be going on. Where had ebrithil found this one, again? The potter’s workshop, he believed. The boy – Yren, wasn’t it? – was a bit of Niko and a bit of Josk, with a dash of his own daughter for good measure. He hoped ebrithil didn’t scare this one off like usual. It was good for the young lord to mingle with others instead of wasting his long life brooding.

And this boy…oh, he was hilariously adorable – like a puppy or a kitten, really. The way he was just swimming in that tunic. It had been a while since he had seen such a small elf. And how easily he smiled and was just so happy. So few elves were this carefree and innocent-seeming. Yes, he would undoubtedly be a good influence on ebrithil. “Yes…I did, thank you very much for asking. Ah…where am I?”

“You are in the Danta manor, in one of the third-floor guest rooms,” he replied simply.

“Tathar? That is your name right? I don't remember very well…it is slightly mis- AH!” Tathar chuckled at the boy’s ecstatic realization that his bag was now in his possession again. “It was here the whole time? I must have missed it…”

The servant shook his head. “Yes, my name is Tathar. And no, it was not here. Danta-ebrithil retrieved it for you sometime last night.” He moved to the window, pushing the curtain aside just enough to see that the sky was slowly turning lighter in color. “It is almost dawn now, so I must go prepare my lord’s breakfast and tea.” He turned back to Yren and smiled kindly. “If you would like, you may help me. Otherwise, I shall show you the way out. Also, your clothes were washed while you slept. They are on the chair by the armoire. I will be outside waiting for you.”

With that, he slipped from the room and stood in the hallway to wait for the boy to change.

[Lyrt]

“You are in the Danta manor, in one of the third-floor guest rooms”

Yren gave a soft nod his eys straying around the room and taking it all in silently. He had troubled Josk once again, he would have to thank him once again as well. Somehow he would have to make up for it. Absentmindedly he shifted the bag onto his side feeling slightly silly for having not noticed it the night before.

Yes, my name is Tathar. And no, it was not here. Danta-ebrithil retrieved it for you sometime last night.

Blue eyes blinked up at the older elf brimming with confusion. Josk had gone out on top of everything and kindly retrieved his bag for him? At night? Guilt seemed to seep into his chest and his face fell feeling happy that Josk had done such a thing and sad that he had felt obligated to do so. Yet the happiness overwhelmed the guilt soon enough and he smiled weakly. "Oh...I will have to thank him then...it was very kind of him to remember..."

It is almost dawn now, so I must go prepare my lord’s breakfast and tea.” Yren nodded shoving the time far from his mind and list of worries, he was late enough, might as well take his time before the beast struck.
“If you would like, you may help me. Otherwise, I shall show you the way out. Also, your clothes were washed while you slept. They are on the chair by the armoire. I will be outside waiting for you.”

"Oh! I wish to help in any way I can!" the elf chirped while jumping up and slipping easily out of the too large shirt and and pants and into his own comfortable clothes. Lifting his bag up onto his shoulder and neatly making up the bed he scrambled after Tathar and headed to the kitchen with him chatting pleasantly with him all the while. "Oh...but any way that I can help you I would be happy to do so, since I was a bother last night and apologize for it."

[Elloria]

Tathar smiled as the boy exited the guest room, chipper and ready to help out in any way possible. But his thoughts were not as serene as his expression. He hoped Danta-ebrithil would not mind too terribly if the boy stayed and helped out a bit with ebrithil’s breakfast. The boy wished to show his gratitude and Tathar thought that was a fine idea. There were not enough elves like him left anymore. They were all too embittered by the Cleansing of the Maleficent and too bored with life. That was the problem with biological immortality – too much time and not enough things to do with it inevitably led to unending grudges. That was Danta-ebrithil’s problem as well. Holding on to sad memories and ceasing his growth…it was sad.

So he would try to make this as pleasant an experience as possible. Danta-ebrithil needed something nice for once. He turned to the boy as they headed down the hall, into the servants’ sector, and down the servants’ stairs. “Well, it is a good thing you are so eager. I think I know exactly what to do to show how grateful you are to Danta-ebrithil. We shall make his favorite breakfast – fresh apple scones and white delois tea. But first, we will need apples.” Tathar clapped his hands as they stopped in the quietly bustling kitchen. Pointing to the back door, he said, “If you head out that way and turn left on the path you will come to the Danta orchards. Pick the ripest, sweetest apples you can find. And be sure you do not stray from the dirt path when you are outside the orchard. There are…things that lurk beyond the path.” After receiving assurances from Yren that the boy would stick to the path, Tathar sent the boy on his way before beginning to make Danta-ebrithil’s tea. The white delois always took the longest to brew, lest the tea be ruined from overheating – but nothing pleased ebrithil more than to have properly made white delois tea.

[Lyrt]

Yren bounced behind Tathar, enjoying the elder elf's company immensely. He was so elegant and kind, there needed to be more just people like him about. Maybe then Ellesmera would not be as tense and more of people would get along.

Once he was instructed to go pick apples Yren nodded his head enthusiastically "I will do better than my best" he chirped with a soft hop. giving a slight wave he slipped out through the back door and headed down the path, taking much care not to stray as he had been instructed by the kindly elf. The gardens in the manor were so lively and rich with color, it made him simply green with envy.

K'nas had little in the way of vegetation with such colors, the spring and summer far shorter than they were in Ellesmera, the winter more than double their lengths combined. There were winterberries, and evergreens which kept their vibrant shades all year round, yet no flowers survived the ice. There was the hot springs though, with the water an unnatural shade of blue.

Spotting the familiar crimson skin of the fruit Yren bounded forward and slipped up into one of the trees to search for the ripest and tastiest of them all. Tenderly he set his hand on the branch and reached up, plucking a particularly beautiful one. Its skin was flawless, and its gentle curve unblemished. Carefully he cradled it to his chest and plucked two more beauties before giving the tree his thanks and slipping down.

The apples were so wonderful, fruits like these were prized in his home city, yet so many grew freely in the woods here. It was slightly unfair, yet he loved K'nas all the same. He did wonder why his thoughts had been turning to it so much recently, he would be returning in only a few more months and he had not been homesick since he was in Ilirea. Quickly he shook his head to jog his thoughts, the more he thought about it the more he would yearn to be back, and that would not help him much at all.

Opening the back door carefully Yren slipped back into the kitchen and set the apples tenderly down onto a counter and blinked up at Tathar patiently for his next instruction staying careful to keep out of anyone's way.

[Elloria]

Tathar hummed as he bustled about the kitchen gathering all the ingredients for scones, minus the apples: wheat flour, sugar, baking powder and baking soda, salt, hazelnut butter, cinnamon, nutmeg and almond milk. Seeing what he was doing, another servant set out a large bowl and baking sheet on one table for the older elf to use as well as measuring cups and three different knives. Tathar smiled as he began measuring out the minimum amount of each item that he would need. He hadn’t told the boy how many apples to get, but it wasn’t as though they couldn’t make more. Ebrithil was not a poor elf, nor did he live in less-than-noble conditions. They had more than enough for their needs. He shook his head slightly as he poured the ingredients into the mixing bowl. He and his mate had led a much simpler life while the Danta twins had been in Ilirea. Some days he longed to return to it – but he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he had left either twin completely at the mercy of their mother. She had not been the kindest of individuals, especially to the boys. But those days were done now, though time had not yet healed the wounds completely. He just needed to be patient and to continue just being there for his ebrithil.

Tathar was pulled from these thoughts by Yren’s return. He smiled brightly at the boy as Yren set three delicious red apples on the counter. “Excellent. We will have plenty for ebrithil…and we may even have some for ourselves. A delightful breakfast, no?” Chuckling, he began instructing Yren on how to make delicious apple scones.

++++++++++++
An hour later:

The area where Tathar and Yren had been mixing was an absolute mess, but the two of them had quite a lot of fun preparing the batter and snacking on some of first scones they’d made while waiting for Josk’s to finish cooking. As the scones were nearly done, Tathar quickly cleaned himself up and put together a tea tray for Josk with the white delois tea being kept warm in its pot. “Yren, the scones will be done in another five minutes or so. When they are, carefully put them on a plate and pick a jam or jelly to go with them. Danta-ebrithil usually does not eat them plain. Pick from the cupboard I showed you. When it is all ready to go, come up to the fourth floor via the servants’ stairs we used earlier. Then take the main staircase up to the fifth floor. I will make sure you can enter the master suite this one time.” With those instructions and confident that Yren would be able to follow them, Tathar took the tea upstairs to the master suite. He knocked on the door, receiving an affirmative before entering. He left the door slightly ajar, as the protective spells on the floor granted access when the door was opened after receiving permission from the family head and denied access once the door was closed. “I made you white delois tea, sir. And breakfast should be up shortly. It was not quite done when I left, but I felt I should bring you the tea as soon as it was done.”

“I probably would have died from dehydration and starvation, based on the time it has taken you to just bring me the tea. The sun is already halfway past the horizon.”

“My apologies.”

“Whatever. Just pour me some tea. I hope whoever is bringing my food hurries up. I wish to go to bed as soon as the sun clears the horizon.”