One man's meat is another's poison [Solo]

[nephero]

   Valarenth found Nostyr out in the garden, head turned up to watch the late morning sky. Still carrying the tray loaded with a teapot and a dish of honey, Valarenth made his way across the hard, winter-frozen ground, the topmost layer of dirt squishing some under his bare feet. His teacher tilted his head, the only sign given that he had noticed Valarenth's approach, but otherwise said nothing.

   Rather than speaking out loud, Valarenth set the tray down on a flat-topped boulder, just to the right of the carved bowl set inside the centermost point. He turned his gaze skyward then, looking up at the endless expanse of deep grey clouds. Valarenth breathed deep through his nose, smelling the cold in the air, the wet, the coming promise of rain. It had been raining more often in the past few weeks, seeping into everything and leaving behind a musky odor where the damp clinged despite the best efforts of near-constantly roaring hearthfires.

   Far above, hidden by the clouds, a raven croaked deeply. Nostyr croaked deeply in return. Whatever it was that was said between them, however, only silence followed, and eventually Nostyr brought his gaze down to the world below again to regard his pupil.

   "I brought your tea." Valarenth said, mouth quirking to the side in a smirk to see the immediate revulsion on Nostyr's otherwise elegant face.

   "I'm doing well, today," he began, and before Valarenth could reply held up a hand to stop him, "I'll still drink it."

   "It's better to commit to maintenance than hope for a miracle when times are dire." Valarenth stated evenly, even more amused at the look this earned him from the elder wordsmith.

   "Don't quote me at me." Nostyr stepped over to the tray on the boulder and took up a cup, loading in several spoonfuls of thick honey before quickly downing the concoction. The moment he swallowed, he shuddered. "I think Feya is trying to kill me."

   "I think if Feya wished to kill you, teacher, you would be dead."

   "It's her game, playing with her food before putting an end to it."

   "Now you're just being dramatic."

   "Be sure to sing so at my funeral pyre."

   "Teacher."

   Nostyr waved his hand, refilling his cup and adding even more honey before drinking it down, turning the cup upside down on the tray after he finished.

[nephero]

    "There's also a letter from Ztel Zheris." Valarenth said with a quiet calm he did not necessarily feel. Nostyr froze like one of the crystalline trees that made up so many of the forests of home, his pale white gaze settling on his student as if he could see right through him.

    "A letter?" Nostyr said conversationally, and Valarenth knew full well he was masking his tone in the same way.

    "Yes, teacher. Bearing the royal seal."

    "I see." Nostyr turned away from the garden, gesturing for Valarenth to follow. The apprentice wordsmith hurriedly gathered up the tray from the boulder and followed his teacher inside the large building they both called home. It was a home befitting a wordsmith - dry and comfortable against the bitter winds and snows of Veila Kaur, and every bit of wall taken up with shelves of books and scrolls and maps and ancient, occult symbols.

    It wasn't the largest Valarenth had ever seen - he'd been a guest, as Nostyr's apprentice, in the home of the royal wordsmith in Ztel Zheris. Master Emrythia's home had been massive, the entrance hall nearly the size of Nostyr's entire home, the rest carved deep into the mountainside like so many of the homes in the eastern kingdom's capital city. Valarenth remembered being utterly intimidated by how grand it had all been, and how Nostyr remarked that it was a home befitting a wordsmith of Emrythia's experience and skill.

    Given how highly Valarenth regarded Nostyr, he could only imagine Emrythia's potency in the craft. But he also knew his teacher better than to assume his domicile reflected his abilities - Nostyr had always been one to prefer the quiet country life, to be accessible to the people and far away from dealings of the court and the almost endless list of Things to preside and speak into being. Valarenth couldn't help but agree - he had come from nothing, himself, and the thought of being pulled this way and that every hour of every day made him feel anxious.

    No, he was very content in Ztel Saryk. The island was one of the smallest in the whole Kingdoms, but it was quiet, and it was home, and there was already no shortage of work to be done.

    Nostyr stepped over to the large table he used as his desk, nearly the whole surface overtaken by pens and tools and papers and inkbottles. Valarenth settled into a chair on the opposite side, watching as his teacher picked up the folded letter and broke the shimmering purple seal.

    "We are being invited to join Master Emrythia at her home, in preparation for the passing of Ingitharim."

    Valarenth blinked, and tilted his head to the side.

    "Ingitharim's Journey isn't until midsummer."

    "I suspect it will take us that long to arrive, give or take a month, if the spring storms are kind to us." Still, the way Nostyr's mouth worked to one side did not give Valarenth much confidence in this explanation. "She's always had a knack for reading the skies. You may want to make sure we have enough stores to travel on."

    "We'll be going, then?"

    "I think," Nostyr said quietly, "that it would be very wise if we did. Besides... there's nothing quite like the passing of a comet in the mountain cities. And my star pupil deserves a bit of fun now and again."

    Nostyr gave him a warm smile, which Valarenth returned easily.

    "I'm your only pupil, teacher."

    "And look how well you're doing. Force feeding me poison and all."

    "You're being dramatic again."

    "I've never been dramatic in my life. Go on and get an inventory of our dry goods. We may need to stop in the market tomorrow."

    "Yes, teacher."