The Fae's Place was a tiny bar situated near the western gate. Judging by the thatched roof and sawdust on the floor it wasn't anything fancy, but the owner put love into it all the same. The misspelled names of house specials ("Shepard's Pie" "Arocks Soup", "Ora Crawfish") were scrawled on a chalkboard. Judging by the crowds of burly men and raucous laughter most of tonight's clientele were farmers and dockworkers after Sylmag's particularly hoppy lager.
Good thing it was crowded. Ewan was in a sour mood, fuming really, but had to stay calm and keep quiet. He ducked his way through a forest of towering farmers, and beneath the tray of a blue-haired waitress "Kia's c-- watch it runt!"
The ragged boy's eyes widened when he caught sight of a crooked door near the bar. That must be the wine cellar. Looking to his left, then his right, Ewan nudged the door open and ducked into narrow, rough-hewn staircase. What drink and vintage was it again? "The best brandy" - like they knew anything about alcohol - come to think of it he could've just snatched any bottle from upstairs and lied...
But this was actually kind of exciting. His heart was pounding! And what would really happen if he was caught?
The Fae's Place was particularly rowdy, this evening. That was what went through the mind of Kartuun as he sat there, slowly eating a bowl of soup, having piecemeal conversations with Sylmag in-between his serving people within the tavern. Kartuun had resolved to set out soon, and as such the keeper of the tavern had been trying to pass on some more knowledge about the world from his own experience, before the boy set out on his own.
"Always, always, always watch for pickpockets and thieves." said Sylmag, this particular point being somewhat-difficult for Kartuun to take seriously, as the older man was acting as if he were telling a 5-year-old to stay away from strangers. Sylmag noticed Kartuun's less-than-enthused expression after he had given that warning. "What? People who steal from ya aren't always the ones y'expect. I've seen my fair share of elderly men and women, who always greeted fruit-vendors with the kindest smiles and words, quickly slip fruits into pockets and robes. Even if they've got more than enough to pay for 'em."
Kartuun's unamused look had shifted as the man had gotten more serious; he didn't appreciate being spoken to like a child, but he wasn't sure how to say it to the man who had been caring for him. "So I should just... Always be on the watch for people who might steal from me?"
Before he could get an answer, this particular lull in service had ended. From elsewhere in the bar, someone had ordered up an older vintage bottle of wine. "Comin' up!" Sylmag responded, leaving Kartuun without saying anything, feeling it was implied he'd be back. He walked over to the old, beaten-up door that signified his wine cellar, opening it, but hearing a clinking sound as he nudged the door open.
Someone was in here! He crept down the steps slowly, doing his best to minimize noise, still hearing the sound. Moving down past two shelves, he found a boy crouched down, looking at some of the various bottles he possessed. "Oi! What do you think you're doin' down here, boy?"
Ewan gasped in fright at the booming voice. Shit! He spun around, dangerously juggling a bottle of fifty year brandy before concealing it. The ragged boy stared, wide-eyed and dumbstruck, at Sylmag as his mind raced.
"Gosh you scared me! I was, um, just looking for the bedrooms, yeah?" Ewan gave a nervous smile, trying to buy time as he edged past. The barman was enormous, and blocking the stairs, but the tavern was surely crowded enough to lose the paunchy innkeeper. Not having his wand was horrible and made Ewan feel naked. This would all be so much easier if he could turn into a bat or make a swarm of mice fetch the bottle.
"B-but I've got go to go! Got to deliver a note ya see and I won't get paid none if it's late..." It would be easier to drop the bottle and run, but he couldn't give up. Just a few more steps and it'd be over...
"Uh-huh, and that's why you were crouched, lookin' through my bottles, right?" Sylmag eyed the boy, before making a grab at him, snagging the boy by the arm. "Quit fooling around and come upstairs with me, and I won't turn you in to the authorities." In spite of his serious glaring and speech, there was a calm feeling to the man's voice; he didn't seem to be treating the boy as if he were a full-fledged adult in being caught.
Sylmag kept a grasp on the boy as he grabbed the required bottle of alcohol, not wanting to forget about it in the moment, and started back towards and then up the steps, not desiring to keep one of his loyal (and admittedly somewhat-rowdy) patrons waiting any longer.
"I Just need the bottle. Here's everything I've got!" Ewan squirmed against Sylmag's grip. A life of hauling heavy kegs from the cellar, cleaving meat, and tossing drunks gave him strong and calloused hands. The boy whined and yelped the whole way up the stairs, fishing three copper coins from his belt. His desperate bribe went ignored; barely enough for the barman's trouble let alone the brandy. "Or I I can do any chore you ask, please?"
"Feh. Don't know who put you up to this, kid, but you ain't getting a nip. And I won't have no thieves about" Sylmag slid a rusty bronze key into the lock. The barman lead Ewan onward toward the door, though his expression began to soften. "I'll give you a hunk of cheese for them bits."
"I'm not a thief. And I don't want your charity! Look, Some rat-faced urchin stole my magic wand and is going to break it unless-"
A minute later Ewan was sitting in a corner and gnawing on wedge of cheddar, sullen and red-faced. Sylmag was back at the bar. Most of the tavern-goers paid him little mind. The former sorcerer caught glimpses of another kid in the crowd but thought better of making eye-contact. Real children either wanted to rope him into playing tag or other stupid games, or were horrible bullies.
Kartuun had watched Sylmag come out of the wine cellar with a boy, the look on the former's face indicating the latter was evidently not supposed to be there. He saw Sylmag sit the boy down at another chair across the tavern, also noticing the somewhat-jaded look on the young male's face. It was hard not to take pity on another kid, and Kartuun wondered why the kid would try stealing in the first place. He finally decided to stand up and walk over, his blanket hanging over his shoulders.
He made eye contact before he had even reached the table, but the thief tried to shake off the contact. Finally, Kartuun ended up standing in front of the boy. "Hi." There was an undeniable tension, based on the look on the listener's face. "W... Why did you try to steal from Sylmag? Were you trying to get drunk, or?" The tone in his voice was more curious than accusatory, genuinely wondering the male's rationale for his actions. He didn't want to start trouble, after all.
Ewan gave the newcomer a shy wave. The kid was about his age. Maybe of good birth, judging by the cape, but on closer inspection it was just an old blanket that made Kartuun look more like a child playing at hero. "I wasn't stealing-" Ewan gave an indignant scowl, but the facade was pointless; he was caught red-handed and Kartuun didn't look at all convinced. "The brandy wasn't for me, okay? A kid named Dugan, and some street-rats, took my wand. Won't give it back unless I steal stuff. I'm not really a thief.
"And sorry, I'm being rude, my name's Ewan. Is he your pa or something?" he forced a weak smile, nodding toward Sylmag.
Dugan and his band of urchins were well-known in this part of town. They had numerous purse-snatchings, pranks, and shoddy, half-finished odd-jobs to their name. He was briefly employed at the Fae's Place, to clean the stables, but Sylmag threw him out for stealing. The young brigand held a long grudge.
"I'm Kartuun. And nah, he's just a friend of my parents. He's been looking after me while they're gone." He shrugged. "Sylmag has told me about Dugan. I've seen and heard him but never spoken to him. But... He stole your spell book? My parents each had one, but I never saw them use the books."
It was obvious the boy was stealing and had initially tried to lie to Kartuun, but since he was Serenian, it wasn't far-fetched that he would be a magic user at such a young age. Kartuun was going along with it, at least for now, but he remained wary of any indication that this was in fact just a boy trying to use an excuse to get out of a wrongdoing or lessen his punishment, something else that Sylmag had warned him about.
"From what I've heard about Dugan, he seems like he'd be fun to scare with Finniss." He garnered a mild smile on his face at the thought of making the boy-criminal run away out of surprise.
A scrawny arm, dappled with freckles, reached across the table to shake. "Awful nice to meet you." Ewan puffed out his chest, looking more than a little full of himself, "And I mostly do alchemy and transfer - transfug - um, turn things into other things? Those sorts of spells are really long! Do you do magic too?
"And is Finniss your dog? Would love to see that pig-faced shiteater get bit in the a- um, butt?" boy cracked a shy smile.
Kartuun looked rather taken aback by this boy's language, but shook his hand regardless, slightly confused by the display this small-bodied male was putting on. "Uhh... No, I don't do magic. My parents kept wondering if I could... Maybe a gift will awaken at some point, like with them. But, for now, I'm normal." He smiled, shrugging it off.
"And Finniss is my blanket, not a dog. He's my protector, too." He stroked the side of the blanket that hung over one of his shoulders a couple times, while still facing Ewan. "My parents gave it to me before they left, so I always keep it close. Gets kinda lonely without them. Boring, too, around here. Well, until you showed up, that is. What's Sylmag gonna do with you? He's never caught a boy stealing from him before. Couple o' older people. He ended up turning them in as soon as he could. Guess that's good for you, huh?"
Finally, closing time rolled-around, and once everyone had cleared out, Sylmag came over, looking at Ewan. "Now listen up well. For tryin' to make off with my booze, I could turn ya in, and they'd take you just like they'd take a man. But. If yer willin' to work for me, cleaning the tables and windows for, say, a week, I won't turn ya in. Understood?" He extended out his hand to seal the agreement, wanting to show he was willing to hold up his end of the bargain.
Ewan looked down apologetically. The little sorcerer's bragging only seemed to baffle Kartuun, who probably didn't care much about anyone's magical exploits. But a magical blanket, one capable of frightening teenaged streetrats, was just as vexing. "How does a blanket protect you? Does it make you invisible or turn you into animals? And I don't know... he didn't say he'd do anything. Just offered me food, yeah? Figure he forgives--"
Sylmag cut him off of course. Color drained from the boy's face as the barman explained the terms of the arrangement. He could see Dugan and his dirt-smudged, greasy friends burning his grimoire and laughing. The alternative, of course, was being chained up with a bunch of ogres and orcs and scarred criminals through some cramped and lightless mineshaft. It made him sick to think of it. "I am sorry. And if I hadn't taken the meal you offered I'd be gone now. Feels a lot like a trick..."
"Knew ya'd take the free food. And I would've stopped you just the same. This is for your own good, boy." Sylmag gave a jaded smile, and set down a rag and bucket. His expression softened, "And don't you worry about helping him Kartuun."
Ewan took Sylmag's hand to seal the deal, heaving a long sigh. Soon enough he was running a soapy rag over the table he shared with Kartuun. There so many tables. And the bucket was heavy. And of course the barman was seated near the door with a book in hand, no doubt spry enough to stop any runners. "So does he usually make you do this stuff? Gosh, I don't even know what I'm going to do now..." the ragged boy murmured out of earshot, still surly.
"Sometimes, if I act out of turn. Sometimes I do it just 'cause there's nothing else to do, though. He doesn't want me starting anything before I've even left the city." Kartuun chuckled a little, watching Ewan wash the table.
"And about what you said before, before Sylmag butted in. Finniss doesn't do anything like that. It, well..." Kartuun turned to the "busy" tavern keep. "Sylmag, can I show Finniss to Ewan?"
The man looked up in from the book. Washing the tables was supposed to be a punishment, something serious and performed in quiet, meditative silence. Yet Kartuun did seem to take to him; the man mused to himself that if Kartuun wasn't here, he wouldn't be so lax. That's what prompted Sylmag to say "Sure ya can. But make sure y'move some o' the tables aside! You know what happened before..." He trailed off a little.
Kartuun looked a little sheepish as he moved a couple tables aside to make space, drawing the blanket off his shoulders. He held it out in the open space and said "Wake up, Finniss." At this, Sylmag looked up, frequently impressed by the display even as a resident of Serendipity, when the part of the blanket that hung down seemed to have legs and feet grow out of it, entirely covered in plate. A torso took form above that, arms sprouting out at the side, a large, metal-coated hand holding Finniss, as the blanket seemed to have entirely faded out of existence. In its place was a very tall, armored figure, holding Kartuun's hand as the boy looked up to it while it looked down at him.
He turned to Ewan. "Whaddya think?"
Ewan's mouth hung open as the blanket began it's transformation. He had to srifle a giggle at first, when the security blanket sprouted limbs, but soon enough it filled out into a man of metal. "Whoa! So your parents made it for you? Is there anything underneath?"
The boy set down the sponge and walked in circles about Finniss. Without asking he reached out to probe the construct, testing it's joints and strength.
"He'll do whatever you tell him, huh? Like tricks or table-washing?" an impish smile crossed his face. "Or if you did want to put a scare into those robbers?"
Sylmag must have overheard, judging crossed arms and a grunt of disapproval.
"They bought the blanket for me when I was a baby, and enchanted it a few months ago. There's nothing underneath, though, at least not that I know of. It can't talk, it doesn't eat or drink." Kartuun watched with a mild sense of pride as Ewan inspected the armored being.
"It does whatever I say, yeah, including table-washing. Or scaring robbers." He looked to Ewan, pausing briefly for effect. "... But I don't think having it do either of those things would be a very good idea." He gave a teasing smirk to the other boy and then a grin to Sylmag.
"You better get back to washing tables, though." Kartuun's voice was quieter but serious. "Last thing you want is Sylmag gettin' angry at you for slacking off..."
Kartuun sat with Finniss as the pair watched Ewan work, before Kartuun finally decided he'd had enough watching and actually took up a rag, helping Ewan finish off the tables, until all of them were clean. Kartuun took the rags away and soaked them, returning to Ewan. "Sylmag, is this good? Is Ewan done?"
"Eh?" Sylmag looked up from his book. "Already?" He seemed surprised and just slightly disappointed. "Alright, fine. You two can go out. I'll lock up." Kartuun motioned for Ewan to follow as they went outside into the cool evening air.
It was mostly quiet now that the sun had set. Only a some flickering torches which lines the canal, and the stars, offered any light. Ewan followed Kartuun to the edge of the canal, clambering atop a fence to sit.
"Thanks for the help back there. Didn't mean like I was trying to get Finniss to deal with Dugan either. I know that could go bad for you." The boy's face reddened, looking suddenly sheepish. He actually didn't think of the risks at all until Kartuun spoke up. "I'll try to replace my book if I make it to Arca. Guess I'll just be a non-magical boy till then..." That was hardly a comforting thought.
Kartuun himself was a bit of a mystery. Two wizards leaving their child in care of of a rustic innkeeper seemed so strange. It crossed Ewan's mind they might be dead. "So you're Sylmag's ward I guess? He send you for school or anything? I mean if your parents were mages... I'd bet you're pretty clever."
"You'll find your book. Just like I'm gonna find my parents." Kartuun gave the other boy a confident smile. He rested next to Ewan as the boy inquired about his personal life, not that there was anything bad about that.
"Yeah, Sylmag looks after me, mostly during meals. I go out the rest of the time, 'cause I can't wait to go out and start my search." There was a somewhat-blind optimism in his voice. "I used to go to school but I stopped 'cause of the same thing, I want to leave. The only reason I'm still here is because Sylmag wants to make sure I know about being out in the world, since I only ever went elsewhere once, to the inner part of Arca, when I was younger."
He went on for a moment. "Clever?" Kartuun had to pause at this, reflecting on his parents and their consistently-calm but quite-often wise way of speaking to him. "I dunno if I'm as clever as them. I think I do well in school, but... I don't think I'll ever be as good as them. My mom could memorize a ton of stuff. And my dad was great at developing spells. They were both so nice to our neighbors, too..." He looked down, trailing off, a mild frown forming on his face. Realizing the dampening of the conversation he shifted the subject.
"W-what about you? Where are your uh... Parents? Where do you live? And what kinda magic can you do?" Remembering he seemed to need the book, Kartuun corrected himself. "Er, uh. What could you do?"
"My family is mostly in Ravensway down south, but I was going to Arca to swap spells with someone. I'm way older than I look. Well, I used to be older until the accident..." Ewan blushed. It was more of a miscalculation. "Before Dugan took my wand I did transfiguration and amin- animancy! I turned people into dogs, grass into wheat, stuff like that."
"But how long have your parents been-" he bit his tongue. It seemed to be a touchy subject for Kartuun. It was hard to imagine such a sweet-natured child wandering alone. The boy screwed up his face in search of more delicate phrasing. "How do you know they won't be back? It's just the road's awful dangerous for a lone girl is all. Even with a magic blanket."
"Ohhh. Alright." Kartuun nodded. "My parents talked about that but they weren't really good at turning things into other things. My dad told me about a woman, who could turn herself into a big cat like a tiger or lion to get around." His voice seemed somewhat brighter when he spoke about their exploits.
Sitting there, the somber boy listened to the other continue, hearing him stutter and try to rephrase his question. Then Ewan asked his question. The same one Kartuun had dealt with several times before, annoyingly enough. Not a big deal in and of itself, but Kartuun was already feeling a bit off because of discussing his situation once-again. Yet, while he was preparing to answer, Ewan mentioned a concern Kartuun had already answered before, adding to the mounting tension.
... And then Ewan slipped up. Kartuun's head snapped up at the other boy.
"I'm not a GIRL, Ewan." He hopped down from the fence. "And I'm not helpless, either!" His eyes were watering, not that it was easy to see underneath the lengthy hair that had partially provoked the issue. "My mom told me I would know if anything bad happened to them...!" He looked away from Ewan, and sank. One hand clutched at the blanket for comfort as he quietly sobbed. Leaving soon to do something almost-insane at his age and standing, being asked once-again to confront the reality of the situation, so much worry and stress had built up in his mind, not that he would know how to articulate it.
Ewan sat in silence as the boy started sniffling. He'd never had to deal with crying kids before, save younger siblings and cousins years and years ago. Coddling Kartuun, after calling him a girl of all things, probably wasn't going to improve his mood any. The young sorcerer slipped from his perch and placed a hand on Kartuun's shoulder. "Where were they going anyways? Might have even seen them for all I know if they're mages. And lots of stuff can hold up travel, ya know, like sickness or storms... it will work out.
"And sorry. If I bet if I wore a shirt I'd get called a girl, too. We could both use a hair cut..." he cracked a tiny smile, running a hand through his tousled mop.
Kartuun seemed somewhat-calmer already, relaxing. Though he didn't look at Ewan, he still spoke in response to Ewan's question, having the slightest hope the wizard might have encountered his parents. "Well," he sniffled, trying to stop his nose from running while he spoke. "I don't know where they are, or where they went. They didn't tell me. They just said they were leaving to protect our family and others who were being threatened..."
He turned more towards Ewan now. "I like my hair like this." His response was very matter-of-fact. "And..." He sniffled once-more. "Sorry for getting mad. I just keep getting told I shouldn't go looking for my parents an' stuff. I trust that they'll let me know if anything bad happens. But until it does, they're out there, whether they want me to find them or not."
He stood up slowly, face still red from crying. "So... Where are you gonna sleep tonight?"
The boy gave Kartuun a reassuring smile and helped him up. This was quite a mystery. Odd for someone to leave their kid behind for protection, of all things. "Do they got you looking after the house? Or you just live here now?" A look of fascination crept over his face "Maybe they've some kind of clue behind, yeah? Even if they didn't mean to.
"Oh! Um, I thought I'd have my wand and the gold Dugan took by now," Ewan looked sheepish. "Do you think Sylgmag would let me stay on? Since I am working for him and all?" Images of Sylmag's accommodations were already worming themselves into his imagination... what if he were stuck in some old cupboard? And it would be filled with onions of course. Onions and rats. Or he'd have to sleep on a bale of hay in the stables and they'd be filthy and he'd need to clean them. Well, it probably wouldn't be so horrible.
Kartuun perked up, then thought for a moment. "I've been trying to keep the house clean, but I didn't really go looking..." There was a new sort of interest in Kartuun's eyes. "You think they actually left something saying where they were going? I mean... I dunno why they would, unless they wanted me to search for them."
However, he remembered Ewan's other question. "Oh! Yeah he might. But I was just askin' in case you wanted to stay at my house instead? I've got room plus I doubt Sylmag will care if you're living there." Kartuun felt kind of bad about this boy's situation, having had his book stolen and being told to work for free; the least he could do was offer him somewhere comfy to stay.
"Maybe! Was thinking they've got grownup, um, wizard friends who might know why they left. Ewan's face lit up at Kartuun's offer. It had been a long time since he'd slept in a proper bed. "And really?! You wouldn't mind?"
The boys started toward the main road; Kartuun's house was just across the way. An imposing figure stepped from a nearby alley, blocking their path; Ewan yelped in fright. It was just the innkeeper. "Sure that's a good idea, Karuun? Don't want ya getting robbed, or losing out of my new worker!"
"I'm going to come back." Ewan gave Sylmag a sour look, glancing briefly from Kartuun in hopes the boy might vouch for him. He didn't want to piss off Sylmag, of course, but being treated like some streetrat was annoying. "Already told you I'm not a real thief and Dugan made me do it."
Kartuun looked at Sylmag and then to Ewan. "I think we'll be okay, Sylmag. I trust Ewan." He gave his young companion a gentle smile.
"That's one o' yer issues. We've been over this before..." Sylmag said, the slightest tone of exasperation in his voice. "But, fine. I trust your judgment." He looked to Ewan. "Don't be giving him any trouble, y'hear?" Sylmag said his good-byes and good-nights to the two boys and headed toward his own residence.
Kartuun grinned. "Let's go!" The younger led the older to his house. It was a modest, two-story abode, not unattainable for well-to-do individuals or families, but nowhere near as nice as some of the residences within Arca. Inside, the house was dark, and quiet, having the feeling of an abandoned building; to fix the former trait, Kartuun clapped, and a wreath of round, translucent balls suspended from the ceiling lit up, along with one in each of two adjacent corners of the room, causing the room to have a welcoming but not over-bearing glow.
A hearth was present in the room, but there was no fire crackling away over tinder, and three chairs sat in front of the hearth, two on the left and one more to the right, but all looking fairly lonely in spite of being together.
Kartuun turned to Ewan. "Well, this is only the living room, but... Whaddya think?" He closed the door behind the two of them after asking.
Ewan was expecting furniture overturned for games, liquor cabinets broken into, or at least some signs of unsupervised fun. That an 11-year-old kept it so tidy on faith his parents might return was horrendously sad. The boy mustered a smile, "You've kept it awful nice. I like the lights." The hearth was cold and clean. There was a little table set with silverware, for three, which had accumulated some dust. Even with Kartuun by his side it felt so quiet and empty Ewan was compelled to tip-toe. He peered through the corridors adjoining the sitting room until spying what looked like a library. Headless of whether or not Kartuun protested, the little sorcerer darted toward the study.
"Whoa!" The dwelling was no doubt modest on account of the sheer volume of arcane lore packed into this room. The walls were lined with books. Two desks, facing one another, sat in the middle of the room. And looming over all of it was a massive, stuffed, four-armed troll in silent vigil. "So is this where they do all their magic and stuff? What sort of magic do they do anyway? Like enchantment and shaping and stuff?"
Perhaps there might be some useful scroll or tome within...
Kartuun watched with baited breath as the other observed his fastidiousness; he was happy to have someone different appreciate his work, in keeping the place neat and tidy, for the most part. "Thanks. The lights were something my parents enchanted. They did them for every room in the house, actually." He looked-on while following alongside Ewan, curious to see what he was looking for as he wandered into the study.
"Yeah, this is where they did their magic." He responded, seeing Ewan's face light up at the collection his parents had accrued throughout the years. "They did a lotta stuff with enchanting, yeah, and teel... What's it? Tele... Telekinesis. Really good at it, too. They held court with some really famous people in Arca. Well, famous in stuff like politics... But they've helped out lots of others, too. Some of these books are gifts from people they helped out. They even wrote some, themselves.
The libraries crammed full of arcane knowledge contained a myriad of texts on the arcane, on hundreds of distinct topics ranging from how to make an object dance, to having it become a sentient tiger. As Ewan took it all in, Kartuun spoke up again. "Are ya... Looking for anything? I know where a lot of stuff is in here."
Ewan stood slackjawed, eyes bouncing up and down the shelves. Most of the titles were things like Ageless Enchanting: Elimination of Corrosion and Temporal Flux and entirely vexing. There was a book on how to animate plants. That sounded handy! He had his fingers about the spine when Kartuun interrupted, color rushing to his cheeks, "Sorry. I was just looking. I thought I might copy some, I mean, if that's okay.
"And it sounds like they're pretty good at magic. Maybe they're doing some sort of secret project? Guess we should look at their letters first!" The boy slid the tome back into the shelf and approached a desk near the window. It was mostly free of clutter, save a dry inkwell, a dog-eared ledger, and a letterbox. The ledger held mostly sums. Gosh this was going to be boring! But Kartuun did deserve the help. Ewan was in the process of squinting at the figures when the book snapped shut, leaving tiny scratches on his fingers. "Ow! What the-"
Perplexed but undeterred the boy grabbed the front and back covers, prying them apart. And once more it snapped itself shut. "Stupid book! Hey can you tell it I'm a friend?" Before Kartuun could so much as respond Ewan opened it up, again, holding his elbow on the spine. The ledger hissed and whimpered pathetically. Meanwhile, the enormous stuffed troll began to stretch, as if waking from a long nap...
"Oh, you can copy stuff. Especially if it helps you find a way back to normal..." Kartuun reassured Ewan, standing near him,watching as he fingered the spines of the various books while reading their titles. At Ewan's compliment, Kartuun concurred, but at his suggestion of what his parents were up to, simply shrugged.
He followed Ewan when he went to check the ledger, only remembering just as the book snapped shut to warn Ewan of its enchantment. "S-sorry, I forgot it did that. Uh." Kartuun paused for just a moment, than slowly moved the book out from underneath Ewan so that he wouldn't fall over from inevitably holding down on nothing once the book had moved. He then pet the book, and it stopped moving as much. "Hmm. I think it's grumpy... I haven't had any reason to open it so it hasn't been fed since before my parents left. Can you get out some lined paper for it?"
While the two boys focused on calming the book, the large, looming figure behind them became even more animated. It stretched its arms and its 'spine', which really just meant its back (for it lacked an actual spine internally), and gazed down at the intruder beside Kartuun menacingly, becoming aware of its surroundings and what was going on. There was a loud thud, as the fake creature slammed one of its hands down, alerting the two boys of its presence, before making an attempt to grab Ewan. "Ewan!" Kartuun cried, immediately worried for his friend.
"So does the book get longer as he eats? Ewan cracked a smile as the ledger began munching on the paper scraps, stroking the cover as if it were an animal. It seems to quiver in response. Once sated it obediently splayed itself out over the desk, and the two boys crowded around. "Well it says here they've been getting lots of money in from Arc-" He spun around as the mounted troll came to life, narrowly escaping its fist as the desk splintered. Before Ewan could run, the creature managed to get hold of his vest, lifting the boy into the air. "Hey! Stop! Lemme go!"
"TRESPASSER! THIEF!" it bellowed. Its breath, at the very least, was not rancid. "BE STILL I HAVE CAUGHT YOU!"
The little wizard shrieked, squirming and kicking. With some luck he managed to slip free of vest, and vault over Jacon's desk. The troll pursued, carefully edging around the taller boy in a protective stance. "Kartuun! Make 'im stop!" Now the troll was blocking the doorway. Ewan scanned the room frantically in search of a hiding place, and made a dive toward the second desk. A stuffed troll shouldn't be that strong, right?
"Hmm. Yeah, I dunn--" Kartuun's statement was cut off when the troll attacked. "Ahhh!" He watched the guardian of the library as it grabbed hold of Ewan, making a motion as if to go one way and then hesitating, utterly unsure of what to do. He internally breathed a sigh of relief when Ewan slipped free and watched the troll attempt to dog Ewan down, and had his temporary trance broken when Ewan called out to him. "Ah... Er-Uh... I... Troll, down! Stop attacking him!"
He yelled to the mighty, faux beast, but the creature merely replied with his own yell. "TRESPASSER IN THE MASTER AND MISTRESS' CHAMBER!" Kartuun was legitimately stumped, trying to recall how the thing had been pacified when his mom and dad had awoken it before.
"A... A book! It was a book, Ewan! It makes the thing go back to sleep! When my mom and dad enchanted it they used one of the titles to bind it! We have to get that book!" The creature, being modeled after the real thing but not being real itself, loomed menacingly in the doorway still, waiting for Ewan to make a move. Unlike a real creature, it didn't breathe, adding an eerie silence to the air after Kartuun made his statement.
"What's it called?!" Ewan shouted from underneath the desk as the golem awkwardly knelt to snatch him. The boy scampered out from the other-side, narrowly escaping its mottled claw. Being small did have its advantages. But where to go now? His eyes darted around the library in bewilderment. There was no way he'd be able to any books like this!
The troll-golem tried to stand up, bumping its head and overturning the desk. The beast let out a fearsome roar, and then began to twitch and spasm. Violet smoke erupted from several of its orifices, and it let forth an unearthly groan. And with that the golem spun around and trained its gaze on Kartuun. "INTRUDERLOPER! BEGONE FROM MASTRESS' DOMAIN!" it slurred and lurched toward its creators' child; not in a loving way.
"What's it doing? Did we break- look out!" Ewan shrieked. His first instinct was to reach for his wand, but he didn't have it. Ugh! He settled for hurling a paper-weight instead.
"Uhhhh... I-it's.. Wait! No!" Attempting to tell Ewan the book ended up failing as he ended up being charged at by the thing created to protect him indirectly, through the protection of the library.
"Finniss, get 'im!" He grabbed one end of the ragged mantle and yanked it from his shoulders, tossing it up above the troll, having it transform into the more knightly appearance above the troll and coming down on top of it. Being some degree of sentient, however, it reached arms up to brace for the impact of the figure, causing the THUD!of metal as two of the monster's hands collided with armor, and also utterly ignoring Ewan's projectile.
In the meantime, Kartuun backed off, not watching when Finniss brought himself down in front of the troll whose extremities still rested on the armored figure. Instead, he tried to get himself back on track, turning towards Ewan. "I-It was called... Uhh... Temporal Anomalies and You? I think? It's been a while!"
The troll-golem locked arms with Finniss. The taxidermied beast had size, but Kartuun's protector had strength. The troll snapped its yellowed teeth, grazing Finniss' head. The knight rushed forward in response, sending the troll crashing into a book-case. Torn pages and splintered wood were everywhere.
Ewan just stood there watching. He'd wished he had his wand back. Or that hurling a paperweight actually did something. "Um, right! The book!" the boy darted around the room, trying to find where the T's were. He found it! Temporal Anomalies and You. The book was enormous - almost half Ewan's size - and on a high shelf. The boy's arms were buckling as he yanked it from the shelf. "H-help!" it fell atop him.
Kartuun's vision darted from the fight taking place, which was quite enthralling to watch, seeing his companion truly in action, to Ewan, suddenly very concerned for his friend's well-being as he needed Kartuun's help now. So he focused on Ewan, running over as fast as he could, seeing how the huge book rested on the boy.
"Ewan! It's okay, we got this!" He grabbed part of the book and heaved, grunting. It was large but also wide, a leather-bound tome lined with a number of pages at least in the very early thousands. "Ngh... C'moon!" It shifted slightly. He pulled harder to one side, helping to get Ewan's arms free so that he could help push it off as well. Further and further the massive text moved until it finally, entirely thudded onto the floor next to Ewan. Kartuun stepped over and made sure he was opening the book from the right side, which he was.
He pulled open the book, lifting the weighty cover from the top page, and was struck by what he found: Cyan text, glowing and flickering like a flame devoid of embers or heat. It was from his parents; it had to be. As he held open the book, his eyes glowed, and he felt a pleasant, comforting warmth, which intensified as he began to read, utterly startled when his parent's voices seemed to be speaking at him, as if they were in front of him. He kept reading regardless, though.
"Kartuun..." The unison of his parents' voices began. "This enchantment is more than a message. Even as we speak, it awakens your powers, whether you are ready, or in need. We can only trust you will use them wisely, that we have taught you well. Enchant the world to improve it, not to harm it. Though no matter what, we will always love you."
As Kartuun listened intently, he barely noticed that the voices were able to be heard by more than just him, and that there was a more powerful blue glow flowing into his eyes and hands, which dissipated as the words faded from the page at the end of the message. Tears dripped from Kartuun's eyes, running down to the sides of his nose and falling into the book, staining the page. It had been so long since he had heard their voices...
Ewan lost interest in the golem battle as the book started talking. It seemed it wasn't a fail-safe but a hidden message. It was a little too fuzzy for his tastes. Then again Kartuun was a kid. "Looks like you're going to be a mage after all!" he punched the boy playfully in the shoulder, growing quiet once the tears came.
Across the room there came a thundrous roar as the troll hurtled Finniss backwards into a bookshelf. The troll-golem was on fire now. It was a pretty nimbus of blue and purple, really, but for the fur and stuffing sloughing off. Beneath was a hideous skeleton of bronze and wire. The elemental energies inside were becoming unbound. With an inhuman roar it leapt at Finniss, with renewed vigor, leaving scorch marks on the rug.
"Kartuun! Hey! Can ya stop it?" Ewan tugged at his friend to snap him out of reverie.
Finniss, hearing the roar, did his best to duck out of its way, its hand clawing against his front, the screeching of metal being scraped sounding off across the room.
Kartuun had been sniffling, wiping his eyes, trying to get over the fact that he had heard his parents' voices for the last time for a while. But the loud scraping noise had brought him back to reality. Seeing his best friend in trouble, he immediately began to refocus his thoughts. He had to.
Finniss had dodged out of the way of the troll's charge and had slunk beneath it, and was now no more than a couple seconds later trying to make his way around it to attack it from another angle. His objective was to fight it, bring it down, and he was going to do whatever he could to make it happen.
"Yeah, I think I can." Kartuun looked at his hands ponderously, then up to Finniss and the troll. "But I've... Never done this before. Focusing on a moving target is way harder, too, from what my parents have- Ah! The rug! He raised both hands, a glowing, blue circle forming in each palm. The rug began to glow, as well. Then it began to move, taking off at a rapid pace. It opened up, like a creature preparing to grab its prey, and wrapped around the troll from behind, locking its arms down.
"Perfect! Hold that thing, Finniss!" Finniss grappled the creature, holding it, ensuring that even if it could muster the strength to break out of the rug it wouldn't be able to. Kartuun dashed towards it, avoiding the books on the floor, his heart racing fast. He was finally able to use his magic, what was effectively his birthright...
He at least reached the troll. He aimed at its feet, raising his hands. There was a locking mechanism in the enchantment, a sort of block preventing him from interfering with its 'programming'. It was weird, but it felt familiar. The interaction of magic was taking place in some invisible space, but he could still "feel" it, like interacting with a gate or door. When he pushed on it, though, with some strength, he felt it open. It ended up being surprisingly easy, and his only thought was that it was a family lock meant to prevent non-family members from easily tampering with the creature.
Once the enchantment was 'unlocked', he just... Released it. The wire-mesh abomination slowed to a halt. The enchantment on the rug was banished, too, as Finniss let go of it. The troll had been pacified. Permanently.
"Whoo! You did it!" Ewan leapt in the air, cheering. If the boy ever was twenty-five it didn't show. He offered Kartuun a tiny smile of consolation, "Um, sorry about your house. Not like you'll get in trouble for it though." Between the shattered and smoking golem, broken desk, and toppled bookshelves the library was a ruin.
Grubby fingers went to work leafing through the massive grimmoire. It was all enchanting equations which were gibberish. Surely it was to make stuff like flying books and enchanted quills. Who needed that when you could make yourself grow four arms and wings and- right, he had stuff to do. Ewan nudged the book toward Kartuun with a grunt. "I think this is for you. Gonna check that other book again. I saw stuff before I got grabbed.
"And you don't suppose your parents got an extra wands? Wooden ones? Since, um, Dugan's got mine and all..."
Kartuun peered at the massive tome that Ewan nudged toward him. It was his now, wasn't it? The notion of being able to access even one of the texts contained within his parents' library was genuinely difficult for the young male to comprehend, to the point that he almost forgot to respond to Ewan.
"Oh, uh... Wands... Uhm..." He thought for a bit. Kartuun only saw his parents use wands for hard enchantments. Everything else could be done just with hands and maybe some basic focusing instrument like a crystal or orb. "My parents might've taken them with them. If there is one, it's... In here..." Kartuun spoke hesitantly. Going through this mess didn't sound like a thrilling event, by any means. "... Or in my parents' room? And don't worry, there's no security in there." He said, grinning.
"Though you did say wood. Couldn't we just carve one?" Suddenly the solution seemed obvious. Kartuun looked to the other boy in a sudden moment of lucidity.
"Oh gosh that'd be great! Its gotta be made out of apple because that channels animus the best. And it needs a triskele like this one. Oh! And an ouroboros carving too. Let me show you!" he bounced with excitement, pointing out various markings inked into his forearms and shins. Red crept over his face as reality set in. "Um, sorry. You don't have to make it if you don't want to. I guess you've never done it before, huh? You definitely seem different since the thing happened.
"And I'll check these letters out for clues." Ewan trotted back to the desk and snatched the letter-box and toothy ledger. It fluttered expectantly, as if ready to give another snap. The boy clapped it shut with a scowl. With luck he wouldn't need to worry about Dugan at all. And skipping out early on Sylmag'a grunt work was great consolation...
They migrated from the ruined library up a flight of stairs and down a corridor. A carved oak door blocked their path. "So you sneak in here to jump on the bed?" the little sorcerer flashed a grin, waiting for Kartuun to nudge the door. Of course he wasn't actually sneaking into a childhood friends parents bedroom. Still, it seemed to warrant some reverence.
"Heh... Yeah, when I was younger." Kartuun felt the words sting his heart. One hand clutched an edge of the blanket tighter as he pushed the door open to reveal his parents' room.
The interior of the room looked as if it had been lived in recently, but it was impeccably clean. A wash basin and brush sat on a smooth, chestnut-colored dresser, sat as if they were part of a routine rather than stored away when not in use. The bed possessed a canopy with one of the sides drawn back, ready for someone to make their way into it and subsequently a peaceful slumber.
The room itself held that peaceful quality to it, that eerie sort of peace that only seems to occur indoors when even the creatures outside seem to be at a loss for words. Kartuun said nothing as he walked in, allowing Ewan in as well. The floor did not even creak as they entered, further contributing to the apparent solemn nature of this area of the house. Once inside Kartuun began to look around in an attempt to find something Ewan could use.
While the silence was a bit unnerving, and also simultaneously aiming to be left unbroken by both boys, Kartuun bit the bullet and decided to speak up for the sake of the search. "Move stuff if you have to, but be careful."
Ewan tiptoed inside; the quiet was oppressive. At the sight of the dustpan his heart sank. A kid Kartuun's age ought to be making mischief. Something else was off too. The canopy was open and washbasin filled with clear water. There was a hint of adult-judgment residing in the little wizard's mind. "No one else is living with you, right?" Being lonely and attention starved could lead to making dangerous friends, after all.
The boy mostly followed Kartuun's lead not wanting to overstep. "Do you suppose they hid a focus in a regular-looking thing? They taught us that at school for emergencies." First he tried an etched fire poker. It turned warm and puffed smoke. Then came a sandalwood brush. Invoking it grew Ewan's hair to neck-length, prompting a shriek of surprise. "Gah! Am I- what just happened?" he pushed the hair from his eyes with a huff of annoyance. Were it not for being bare-chested and clad in a loin-cloth he might've been mistaken for a girl, too. Both were enchanted objects, but neither were arcane focci.
Amidst their rummaging a glimmer of light, like pale foxfire, peeped from a hole in the floor beneath the bed when either boy passed...
Kartuun watched as Ewan walked around the room once he had been led in. Seeing him attempt to use a fire poker as a focus was pretty amusing. Was this guy really a great wizard, if he couldn't even tell a decent focus? Then he picked up the hairbrush. "Wait, you know that not every--" Ewan tried using it.
"Wow. Nice one." Kartuun smirked at Ewan whose hair had become much shaggier. "Are you sure you're an actual magic user, when you can't even tell what an item will do if you put magic into it? I mean I know there's more to it than just that, but..." He trailed off, a bit concerned about Ewan's credentials but not wanting to push it further given the boy's humiliation a moment before.
The two boys continued looking. "Uggh, where IS that stupid thing?" Kartuun stomped the floor, and there was a flash of light from under the bed. He turned his head and his eyes met Ewan's, as they dropped down and scrambled under the bed.
"I pretty much reversed ageing! Of course I'm a wizard. Bet I could even take on Finness once I get my power back" Color rushed to his freckled cheeks. ""I graduated the academy a few years ago. Life magic is what I do, plants and animals and stuff, I never paid enchantment and magic hair-brushes much mind.
"Until now!" an impish smirk crossed the boy's face, as he prepared to swat Kartuun with the implement, but then he saw it. The glow.
Ewan gave Kartuun a nod and they set to work prying the floorboard, green light flickering from between two cuts. Beneath it was a sandalwood wand, intricately carved to look like a branching tree. It was capstoned with polished quartz. Definitely the work of the orphan-boy's parents. Its flickering intensified as the mage children grew nearer. Kartuun's mother might have warned him, some years ago, that enchantment degrades with time like anything else. Such creations might react to the mere presence of a mage, or leak unpotentiated magic when used. That is, magic that did not yet know what it wanted to be and was highly sensitive to the imagination of anyone near.
Ewan reached for the wand, but hesitated. Kartuun was probably still sensitive about his parents old things. "Um, could I?"
Kartuun shot back at Ewan. "Yeah, someone younger than us could take on Finniss if they knew how to disenchant him... I wanna see you take him on without magic!" Kartuun added on the second bit to keep the air from getting too hostile.
Once underneath the bed, realizing a focus was underneath, Kartuun aided Ewan in freeing said focus. Once it was out, Kartuun could only look on. His mom let him watch as she enchanted the bark of a log to peel itself away, steadily shrinking in size, taking shape into a small leafless facsimile of what was likely the tree used to create this wand. The green glow on top reminded him of his father asking him to be quiet as he set the quartz into place atop the focus. Whether an unmarred stone produced any appreciable distinction in magic channeling was still debated by scholars of magic and enchantment, but Kartuun's father at least saw no reason to not have an unblemished stone crowning one of the finer pieces his wife and he had put together.
All of this flashed through the boy's mind in about three seconds, and without much fanfare he nodded to Ewan, allowing the other boy to grab the wand. "Just don't break it, okay? My parents put a lot of work into it. Watch out for any random magic that might happen too, since it's been under here for a while." Kartuun never had to bear witness to magical mishaps and frankly, given their sheer randomness at times, he didn't want to witness any, either.
"I'll be careful." Ewan clutched the wand in two hands, as if afraid of dropping it. The boy would have preferred a broken piece of trash to a priceless memento; odds are it would break and upset Kartuun. Still, it felt good holding the wand; he felt secure, focused, being able to work magic. "And thanks, Kartuun.
"And Finniss is huge! How can I stand a chance without turning into a bear, or growing huge?" Ewan sidled beside his new friend, flexing his scrawny arms in mock comparison. "Bet I could beat you, though." He flashed a grin.
Kartuun looked to his own arms out of curiosity as well as for comparison. Then he looked to Ewan. "... I guess... Never had to fight anyone before so I wouldn't know. Have you? You probably just used magic to deal with anyone who tried to fight you, right? Turn 'em into a frog or somethin'?"
He smirked as he envisioned Ewan using his wand to turn a would-be aggressor into a harmless amphibian, though he debated whether or not to follow-up by asking if said aggressor(s) got changed back. Not something he really needed to know right now.
"Anyway, uhm. What now, now that you have a focus?" Kartuun stood back up once he had crawled out from under the bed, stretching too.
Neither Kartuun nor Ewan had much muscle to speak of, but the enchanters' son might have been pleased to see he was a hair bigger. The little wizard just blushed. "For being the real kid here you're awful serious! But no, I guess I haven't been in a proper fight without magic. And I prefer making people toads - the warty skin takes days to wear off." That took him back to his days of proper wizard dueling at the academy. It was his little trade-mark after a victory.
Ewan's eyes fell toward the documents piled on the bed. "Well I suppose I'll finish with those letters and things tonight - it shouldn't take too long! We'll leave as soon as we have an idea where they might have gone. And pay Dugan a visit to get my wand back." A little smirk crossed his face, "I know you don't want me keeping this forever. And I should make that big bully a toad, anyway."
He chose not to mention Sylmag. Saying he planned to shirk his promise to work at the Fae's place for a week wouldn't be setting the best example. He didn't fancy all that sweeping and cleaning, and was sure Sylmag intended to stuff him in some orphanage, out of concern for his well-being, soon after.
Kartuun felt himself grow warm when Ewan mentioned turning Dugan into a toad.
"Are you serious about making him into a toad?" He asked, with a quiet but concerned tone. "I mean, I know he took your wand, but he doesn't need to be turned into an animal for that, at least not for more than a few minutes... I wouldn't bully kids or anyone else, but if I stole something from someone , I certainly wouldn't want to be turned into a toad or somethin' for hours or days. Would you?"
Kartuun made assumptions about how serious Ewan was and also the length of the punishment, but given that the boy had just admitted to making individuals into toads and having their skin be covered with warts for a few days, he seemed more vindictive than Kartuun had been taught magic users should be. Though this was going off assumptions and not reality; perhaps Ewan had different notions of how people should actually be 'punished' for what they do.
"Why not? It's not like he would die or it's even forever." Ewan grinned broadly at Kartuun, rolling his eyes some. The other boy did not seem amused, almost like he'd tattle. "You know I don't mind being little again, except that even other kids try and scold me! It should be the other way round. You're not
always this serious, are you?"
The boy licked his fingers and began to page hastily through the mess of correspondence and logbooks he found. All the ledgers and sums we're soo boring! They were buying lots of leystone and squirmwood and mycodentia caps. And then he saw it. A familiar seal: an ouroboros entwined about a face, half skull and half-man. "Hey look! Its a letter from Wyrdwood. I went there you know," he held out the letter for Kartuun. He remembered suddenly what the boy had mentioned about schooling. "Oh. You, um, do ya need me to read it?"
QuoteWikuube & Bertlinus,
I hope you are enjoying PLAYING HOUSE and REARING YOUR WHELP. At a minimum you had best send him our way with his breeding. Animate plows for fat farmers and sex-switching girdles for degenerate lordlings or whatever you make in your little country store are beneath you. Your talents are needed.
WAR looms on the horizon. And I do not speak of some LACK-WIT Connlaothian nuns diddling each-other and pretending they stand any chance at all against a proper wizard. No, there is a larger and greater threat to our civilization brewing and simmering. If it reaches fruition your progeny, or perhaps your very child, will be clapped in chains and made some PAINTED LAPDOG. I will not speak more but you know I do not lie. This land is filled with complacent and degenerate cattle growing fat for the slaughter. You know the sort: prancing about in feathers playing at being some Yoreiqi savage, opening our gates to apologists and spies from the north, calling my work necromancy!
Return to Wyrdwood. I will give TRUE PURPOSE to your gifts.
MAERGATH
"It doesn't sound that fun to be a frog, even for a little..." Replied Kartuun quietly as he watched Ewan look at the paper. Then Ewan had two realizations, one shortly after another. The first was that the letter they had found was from Wyrdwood. The second was realizing that Kartuun had left school and was therefore ill-equipped to read.
In response to this notion, Kartuun's face turned a little red. He snatched the paper out of Ewan's hands. "I can read it myself!" Whether Ewan had actually gotten a chance to look or not, Kartuun in this moment didn't care. Reading was something his parents had started teaching him even before he went to school...
Kartuun clutched the paper tighter as he read through it. A few tears streamed down his face and he brought the paper away, not wanting it to get stained with them. He didn't even finish reading it; how could he when whoever it was, was so rudely writing to his parents and him?! Really, this day had just been too much frustration mounting up and being dropped on Kartuun. He sank to his knees, arm reaching out and handing the paper up to Ewan, as he cried once-again. Through no personal fault of Ewan's, the other boy had inadvertently scratched away at the wound on Kartuun's heart until it had begun to bleed again. The boy just wanted to sleep, now, clutching his blanket tightly.
Ewan's mouth hung open as Kartuun began to cry. He was a kid, in some ways, but was not used to handling the frustrations and tantrums of real children. "Its, um, gonna be okay..." the sniffling did not let up so easily, and that broke his heart.
"Come on. Let's get you to bed. It was a big day." The little wizard took Kartuun by the arm, tuggling him gently down the hall toward what was surely the orphan's bedroom. It was further down the hall toward the front, and the door was shut. It was probably going to be clean too. A boy Kartuun's age should not have a tidy room.
"I went to Wyrdwood too, ya know, and I know the wizard who sent the letter. He's a really good enchanter but he's really mean." In truth the note raised more questions than it answered. If Maergath had summoned his parents why wasn't anyone left to take care of Kartuun? It wasn't the time to bring any of this up. "We could go there ya know, you and me, and maybe look? I bet they could even work a spell to track them!"
Kartuun quieted down, listening to Ewan's reassuring words. The sniffling continued after the tears had ceased, as it always seems to do, but at the least he rather wearily followed Ewan down the hallway to his room.
He stood and half paid attention to Ewan's words, exhausted and not really up to listening or... Much of anything. When Ewan mentioned the idea of going there, though, Kartuun wasn't sure what to think. His mind was heavy with exhaustion and negative emotions. Could he muster up the fortitude to actually make that journey? "... I guess. Maybe..."
What was he thinking in trying to venture out and find his parents? Already, not even having left home, he had broken down into tears. Cancelling the journey might just be for the best. But regardless, he was still tired. He reached down and grabbed the door handle, pushing the door open. The room itself was dark, but light from the hallway pored in. The room was neatly-arranged, as would be expected, bar the bed.
The bed was messily-arranged as if it had been slept in and not made after the fact. Kartuun plodded into the dark room, separating himself from Ewan, and flopped onto the bed, lying horizontally before pulling himself onto it diagonally. Finniss was pulled from his shoulder and brought up next to him as he clutched it close. The distraught boy said nothing to Ewan. He wanted to, but couldn't, leaving him in the hallway and trusting he'd find his way. Kartuun badly desired a hug, physical affection he hadn't had in a while that would reassure him and make it all better.
Ewan watched the wimpering boy climb into bed in silence. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped. Still, there was no way Kartuun could go on living like this. Taxes would be due and the lord would take the house. And then what? The shy enchanters son would surely be carted off to some orphanage, or would be stuck cleaning tables for Sylmag forever or something. It briefly occurred to Ewan those things weren't horrible, but being resigned to such a life seemed horrible to the little wizard. Still, there was no reason to voice those fears.
He took a tiny step toward Kartuun, tugging a blanket over the somber boy. It had probably been months since anyone did that. With a sigh Ewan sat behind him and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "Its gonna be alright. We'll figure something out. You've done really good on your own. I bet they'd be proud of you.
"if you're afraid to go maybe we can find some other way to get in touch. Maybe we can send a letter?" Ewan tried to sound positive. He really did. But a hint of uncertainty wavered in his voice. This wasn't the sort of inquiry to be sorted out by mail. Otherwise they would have written back, no? "I can stay until we get you taken care of, alright?"
"No... It's okay..." Kartuun's voice was sullen and quiet. Much as he felt bad about everything else and just wanted to sleep, he also felt bad about, well, making Ewan feel bad. "I want to go. Just not tonight. You can stay here if y'want..." He sniffled. "Night, Ewan." His words trailed off and he didn't speak after that, trying to sleep and recuperate from all the stress of the past day.
It didn't take long before his world faded to blackness, wanting to make his way to the next day, which could only be an improvement on the past one. The blankets slowly rose and fell in front of Ewan as the boy had dozed off not out of rudeness but from mental exhaustion. And now the unfamiliar house was left to the regressed wizard, a place where he'd likely find plenty of information on magic he hadn't known prior. That is, along with being somewhere he, himself could rest as well.
"Thanks. We'll pack in the morning, okay?" Ewan gave Kartuun a reassuring smile and turned to go, leaving his new friend to sleep. The little wizard wandered the house for a bit. First collecting some blankets to sleep on the sofa, then some books from the study on object animation. Mostly he liked working with fleshy things but making a chair talk did seem like a good parlor trick. It couldn't be that hard could it? Its not like you had to make sure the chair was going to die or mutate from magic residuum? But then you had to give it a whole personality didn't you? And finally, after his stomach started growling, so the boy wandered into the kitchens for a snack. "Golly, long hair is annoying!" he had to shove it out of his eyes twice while combing the larder. It was really well stocked! There were jams and honey and even some sweetrolls. All things he liked! Though it was kind of overstocked and most of it would go bad before being eaten, nor was it very nutritious. Such a thing was to be expected with Kartuun doing the shopping after all...
Wrapped in blankets, a book wrestling on his belly, Ewan drifted off to sleep in the parlor.
***
The window of the master bedroom overlooked a tiny market. Usually it was desolate in the early morning hours, but for some enterprising peddlers eager to get a good spot for their wares. Calen, a farmer's son with crates of chickens was one such merchant. The young man was enjoying the sunrise when a trio of youths strode into the square; one clutched a twisted wand capstoned with a hunk of amber.
"Do you even know how to use it Dugan? You can barely read. You definitely ain't magic," a squat and ugly boy, about sixteen or so, rolled his eyes.
"Sure I am! And I'm clevever than you by half. Remember when ya tried to moon Jessup? Remember how the window was broken and you cut your ass up? How's that feel anyway?" the tall and gangly one grinned back. "Now watch!"
With that the gangly thief flicked his wand toward the chicken crates; there was a flash of green light and the cage broke apart. A pair of fat hens within began to grow and grow. They ballooning to the size of horses, and sprouting scaly tails and fearsome claws. The hen, now a cockatrice, made a terrible screech and spit a foul smelling gas into the square.
"Kia's crabby cunny!" the farmer's son staggered back and away from the monsters.
"Hnn...?" Kartuun found himself ejected from sleep, clutching the blanket beside him tightly, as a commotion dragged him back into consciousness. It wasn't a commotion inside the house... It seemed to be coming from outside. The previous day's events all hit Kartuun at once but he let go of most of it, not wanting to give his young mind a headache before he'd even left the comfort of the blankets covering him.
Getting up with a deep exhale, Kartuun shed his clothes from the prior day and grabbed fresh ones from out of his dresser, putting them on. Not in a hurry, by any means, he dragged the covers of his bed up and onto the pillows at the head of the bed. Grabbing his blanket, he then made his way out of his room and downstairs. It wasn't difficult to see the cloth-covered lump bobbing up and down on the couch, once he reached the bottom of the steps. Definitely Ewan, still sound asleep.
Walking over and grabbing the other boy's shoulder, Kartuun gently shook him. "Hey... Ewan? Get up. It's morning... Plus there's somethin' going on outside. I didn't see what but I didn't wanna go out and look by myself." He continued nudging Ewan until he finally responded.
"Huh-wuh? Let's go back to sleep and maybe it will go away..." Ewan sighed, drifting back to sleep before another nudge came. "Ow! Okay! I'm up." He slid from the sofa, rising with a stretch.
Together they pattered to the front window and pressed their faces to the glass. The early-morning market, lit only by the faint orange of a distant sunrise, was in disarray. Carts were overturned, cages busted open, fruit everywhere. A pair of scaled, bird-like creatures big as horses were prowling about. "Whoa! That's a redwinged cockatrice. What are they doing all the way up here?" A trio of guards took shelter at the edge a market, no doubt trying to work out how to wrangle them. On the other side of the Market three young men, sniggering, crouched behind a stall. One clutched a shimmering green staff.
"That's Dugan! Kartuun, you stay here, I have to get my staff back! Its okay if I borrow this right?" with that the little wizard grabbed the broken wand, and dashed to the door...