Obsidian Prism, Viden
20th Break on the 20th of Vhalar
20th Break on the 20th of Vhalar
There was no need to be shown in. Despite being the very first invitation to the private residence, no knock on a door nor meeting of a servant was necessary. The only requirement was Doran Thetys, himself.
It’d been three trials since their last meeting, but this visit would prove different than the others. For the first time since Llyr came across Doran’s dreamscape, he’d show his actual body in the waking world. They would see each other in the physical flesh, surrounded by Idalos. Though they had a mere two encounters, already they’d share much of their thoughts with one another. Llyr found agreement with Doran on so many matters, but what mattered more was how knowledgeable the older man proved to be. How calm and patient, how clever in his research and willing to explain or listen depending on what was needed.
Llyr prepared for the visit. He’d spent almost the entire trial doing so, save for some matters that required his attention. By the time he entered Emea to travel through to the man’s brand in the north, he felt confident enough for the inevitable moment: when Doran would see him without the haze of Emea to cover up his flaws.
Instead, he’d ingested potions earlier that trial. Three in particular, derived from Edasha, to create perfection in three prime features: his hair, his skin, and his voice. He’d been interrupted from the last two that would have fixed the slight inwardly crooked slant of his canine teeth and likely assured that his svelte figure wasn’t merely fit but perfect.
The potion for his skin had gotten rid of his scars, which offered a look to him that he’d never actually seen before. Certainly many of his scars were newer, but seeing his pointed ear without the various little lines where his flesh had gotten torn… seeing his wrist and ankle without the golden forever-bruised bands… he felt a sense of freedom that came with the perfection provided to his silver-tinted pale skin.
His blond hair wasn’t as white as it was in Emea, shimmered with golden highlights instead. He found it as simple as shaking his head and then flipping his bangs, then the hair would settle in place with an almost perfect frame to complement his youthful features. It was… like magic and he supposed that made sense. He’d paid good coin for those potions so he felt pleased with the results.
Of course, Doran wouldn’t notice that much difference. The potions only brought Llyr closer to how he presented himself in Emea. The alchemist might take note of the gold in the hair, or of the physical quality of smooth skin, and likely realize the change in Llyr’s perfected voice.
Adorned in his best suit - tailored specifically to flatter his silhouette - of luxurious black and gray fabrics, with accessories of shined silver, Llyr crossed over without announcement and without warning.
One trill, Doran attended to whatever he was doing…
…and the next trill, Llyr stood beside the man as if the biqaj had always been there.
“Good evening, Doctor Thetys,” he greeted his initiate. Posture tall, he held a silver staff that was even taller than his lanky height. A satchel slung over his shoulder contrasted against his suit, due to its earthy brown leather. Richly blended scents of cinnamon, sandalwood, and bergamot entered the room along with him, strongest at the back of his neck.
Llyr’s gaze swept over the apartment around them. It was quite large, which immediately caused Llyr to wonder how it kept comfortably warm through the colder seasons. He stepped away, with an obvious survey while he looked around. A slight smile, without the show of his teeth, curled onto his lips.
The dark wood of the refined furniture matched the luxury decor. If Llyr had not experienced such finery in his past, he would have acted far differently than he did now. But he had, and he was more disciplined, so while he felt the natural lure to touch, and examine, and pick up vases, or caress the curtains, he refrained from doing anything like that.
He turned to face Doran and nodded in another greeting. “Tell me, do you need more time for the list I gave you or have you acquired some of what I requested?”
Llyr waited a pause, for the answer, then he opened the satchel that rested against his hip. He pulled out a package bound in tan leather with thick twine to keep it closed. It was easily a handful’s worth of stacked vellum inside. He held it out for Doran to take. “This is the theoretical discussion of what you asked about last time. I added more than that, so you might understand much of what is possible when it comes to Emea, in theory. Based on my own experiences, that is. I apologize it is… messy. I did not have the time to draft a cleaner version, so there is much crossed out and rewritten in the margins and some of it might not be exact to what I intended.”
He added, “If you prefer, I can hold onto this and scribe an easier to read version for you but I suspected you might be curious enough and familiar with such initial drafts.”
“Oh, but also, as you can see… I’ve brought this item through Emea,” he patted his satchel, then he inclined his head toward the staff he held. “And this.”