I theorize that the Eight are actually incapable of love, incapable of any form of love. While there are lurid details circulating around concerning Ishta'ana, these are purely physical acts, devoid of good and wholesome emotional attachment. Touching evil renders one incapable of forming any healthy relationship, turning each relation to another into a parasitic one.
-The Necromancer's Notes, Tablet 3343a, Philosophy Wing
***
It was dusk when the two of them reached Indra's home.
She lived in one of the cramped city houses, crushed between two equally small houses. They were four stories tall, but a connected balcony, a walkway, allowed access to the third level.
"Why are they so small?" Thaen asked. His home was large, but then again, it had around seventy people living in it at any given time.
"Only two people live in one unit." Indra said. "And a unit is two floors. Not all four." She looked around. "This entire neighborhood is owned by the University."
"Oh," Thaen said. "And you live with Mirsari?"
"Yes," Indra said. "You have the directions?" Thaen nodded and patted his pocket. Indra had written down the directions to a classy restaurant that Thaen was to take Mirsari to. Supposed to. It was all very bizarre. Indra had conscripted him for a date, and the tone she had used made him not want to resist. Normally, the man was supposed to make the first move. But what were you going to do when the first move in this romantic exchange had been made by a third party? How do you deal with a situation?
Apparently, you capitulate. That seemed to be a good idea.
They walked up to one of the bottom-row homes. "Hold on," Indra said. "Just wait out here. Hopefully, this shouldn't take too long." She stepped closer and knocked on the door. "Mirsari!" Nothing happened. "Mirsari!" Still nothing. "MIRSARI!"
Finally, the door opened, and a Vesperati peeked out. "Give me a minute before you start pounding on the door! I need to actually be able to walk over to it," she said, glaring. And finally, Thaen saw the lady he'd be taking out for dinner.
Her fur was pure jet-black, with streaks of white at the edges, and her hair -kept back in a large braid- was a dark grey, only a few shades lighter than her fur. Her eyes were brilliant red, the color of a Sensedancer. A Vesperati magician. She was like him.
He, like his father, and his grandfather, and a few of his cousins (the less annoying one), had inherited the red eyes of the Sensedancers. And so had she, it seemed.
And she was rather shapely. Not in the curvaceous way of a woman who only cared about her body in respect to how attractive she was, but she had the poise of a dancer, an athlete. It would have been a shame otherwise. It always saddened Thaen to see one gifted with the blood eyes, but one who let their body go to waste and obviously didn't care for themselves. It was a fine tool, wasted and broken.
In short, she was beautiful.
"Who's he?" she asked, pointing to Thaen.
"We need to talk," Indra said. "Thaen, stay out here for a moment." With that, she stepped in.
Thaen waited for about half a minute before his curiosity got the better of him. He leaned in, closed his eyes, and listened.
Well, he did more than just listen. He used the blood. It was there, situated a few inches above his heart. From all research done by the doctors of his hold, what seemed like a useless, closed-off branch of the esophagus (akin to the appendix) in Vesperati changed with the Sensedancer's. When Thaen was young, and had began to have the dreams of blood, when his power began to awaken, he had felt pains as that small part of his body changed into what contained the blood.
And now, he flexed it. It really didn't change, but it absorbed, and he felt the same, comfortable warmth spread through his chest. He focused, redirecting the warmth towards his ears, strengthening them, honing them, willing his hearing to become acute.
"...no, I'm not going. I said that when you brought up the idiotic idea last night," he heard Mirsari say. She didn't seem angry, just annoyed. "I've seen his type. He's just like the athletes. And I tried courting one of them. Remember how that ended?"
"Mirsari, you didn't even hear him talk!" Indra said. "And I remember. However, I've traveled with Thaen. Extensively. I know him. I didn't know Phadris."
"Look, I'm not interested. You know how the others are. They're hedonists. They come to me half the time hoping I can make some alchemical thing to take away hangovers."
"I doubt Thaen's like that."
"Either way, I really don't like you meddling with my love life. Indra, I know you care for me, but I don't need you to play matchmaker. And trust me, I doubt I'll get along with that guy."
"Don't dismiss him like that," Indra said. "You've not spent time with el'Thaen'im Resharo, so you can't just-"
"Wait." Thaen perked up. "el'Thaen'im?" She recognized it. "You're telling me he's a military officer?"
"He called himself Reforged."
He heard a chuckle, presumably from Mirsari. "Well, that's markedly different." She sighed. "Still, that doesn't change anything. I'm not going on a date with him!"
"Yes, you are!" Indra snapped. "You cannot just stay inside here or inside the University and completely ignore everyone else around you! That's not really healthy for you!"
"You know what, fine," Mirsari snapped. "I'll do it, just for you."
"Do it for you," Indra said, "so that you can possibly learn more about others, you know, if you actually go out and talk to them."
"Oh,"
Mirsari said, "I'm not doing it for your sake, really. I'm just doing it to shut you up."
"Well, just be friendly to Thaen. He's kind of sensitive." Thaen bristled at that. He was not sensitive! Where in the world would Indra have gotten that idea? The whole situation was quite ridiculous, but that comment was especially ridiculous. He wasn't sensitive!
"Give me a moment to dress in something a bit nicer. Bring him inside. He shouldn't freeze."
The door opened, and Indra poked her head out. "Come in," she said. Thaen stepped in, and Indra closed the door. It was much warmer in here, almost uncomfortably warm with the blood burning inside his chest.
The front room was nicely furnished, with a few plush-looking upholstered armchairs (color slightly faded), an oval grey painting of a man that looked quite like Indra (the wood frame chipped in a few places), and a few bookshelves (quite bare, with a teapot and a few glasses trying to cover up the gaps). The items were cheap, but they were tastefully arranged. All in all, it was a home that felt like a home.
"Hello." Thaen looked up and to the right. There was a small staircase, and Mirsari walked down it, demurely staring down at him with a look that was a mix of interest and annoyance. She had changed from what she was wearing before (a long-sleeved shirt, an apron, and stiff trousers) and now wore something much more Caeldari. Like what Kyra wore, she had tighter leggings, a longcoat, and tighter sleeves than Thaen's. But why? Thaen wore his sleeves loose for his wings.
And then it dawned on him. Her wings had been broken. Why leave her wings loose if she didn't need them? Either way, she was pretty. Very pretty. And the way she looked at him made Thaen feel very small.
"Shall we go?" she asked.
"Sure," Thaen said. "I'll walk you there." Mirsari didn't seem that interested. He knew that she didn't want to be there. But was that because of him? Mirsari moved closer to him. She was an inch or two shorter than him.
"Perfect," Indra said. "Now, while you two go out and have a romantic dinner, I'll make myself some tea and study."
They walked out, and Thaen pulled out his directions. "Okay... what street are we on?" he asked Mirsari.
"Really? You don't know where you are?" Mirsari asked.
"This is my third day in the city," Thaen said. "I'm not that good with directions."
"Just give them to me," Mirsari said. She snatched the paper out of his hand. "Wow. This is where she told you to take me?" she asked.
"Yes, is that good enough?" Thaen asked.
"It's... really good." Mirsari said. "Really expensive." She folded the paper up and handed it to Thaen, who tucked it into a pocket. "You sure you can afford it?"
Thaen nodded. There was still that weight from the reward Lord Solstael had given him. "I'll be able to afford it. Don't worry."
***
The restaurant that Indra had selected for him was called the Candle Garden, and Thaen knew why it was so expensive.
The Candle Garden was, as it boasted on its sign, Saefel Caeld's only open air luxury dining experience. At first, that confused Thaen. Even though the people of Saefel Caeld had adapted to the cold, they didn't prefer it, and would hardly suffer it during "luxury dining." But as they passed through the entrance, Thaen figured out why.
They sat on a bench, the only two waiting, and Thaen's attention drifted. Not that he was ignoring Mirsari in any way; she was simply silent. The rest of the building wasn't, and he kept hearing one word, repeated over and over.
Thaumaturgy.
They had thaumaturgy plates heating it. "Mirsari," Thaen said, "what do you know of thaumaturgy?"
"The basics. I know how it's similar to alchemy, but not much more." Mirsari said. "They probably use it to keep the actual garden warm."
"That's what it sounds like," Thaen said. "Pretty expensive to do?"
"Thaumaturgy plates can only be made by a select few who have studied the formulae, and you have to write them in gold. So I'd say so." She seemed kind of annoyed. Not as if he was stupid, but she seemed frustrated about the entire reason she was here.
Eventually, a waiter showed up, dressed in a finely tailored black suit. "Master Resharo?" Thaen nodded. "This way, please."
The waiter led them right out of the building, but instead of entering a colder space, it was warmer, almost uncomfortably warm. Sky arched over them instead of ceiling. Small, thin candelabras, all sculpted to look like giant blossoms, added a dim ambiance to the entire restaurant. And everywhere, spilling out of large urns, cascading out of pots ensconced in the wall, and climbing down several lattices all around the circular garden, were plants. Lush, green plants, the color of their leaves and vines a deep emerald. And, in the flow of the verdant river, tiny blossoms gleamed like gems, blue and red and pink and white. Jadevine flowers.
The room, to any human or Kai'Draen, or other race, would smell faintly of the jadevine blossom, but to Thaen and Mirsari, it was intense. It was as if he had been drenched in perfume. He was, Thaen realized. He was standing in the middle of it, and that perfume was jadevine nectar, masking every scent he could possibly smell.
The waiter led him and Mirsari to a small booth, nestled between two lattices woven with jadevine, handed them two menus, and stepped away to vanish in the dim light.
"Well," Thaen said, "these are expensive."
"I'm thinking of the salmon fillet," Mirsari said. "But you should choose your wine."
"Hmm..." Thaen looked down that list. "How about the Flamergrie de Caperot?" he asked. It sounded impressive.
Mirsari wrinkled her nose at that. "No."
"Why not?"
"It's a Leyonsian red. No one drinks Leyonsian red wines unless they're on a budget. The only good reds on these sides of the sea come from Tuscana or Castillera."
"Well, then, which one should I get?" Thaen asked. "You're a bit of a wine connoisseur, it seems."
"I've been on enough dates to determine that I should study wines instead of blindly choosing one," Mirsari said. "It's a strategy that applies to life."
"Thank you for the advice. However, I don't need a counselor for my life. I need to know which wine won't make me want to retch."
"Well, you like sweet and light, or strong and sour?" Mirsari asked.
"For wines, sweet and light." Thaen said.
"The Aramondo da Caspero would be best, then." She set down her menu. "May I ask you a question?" she said.
"Only if I can ask you one in return," Thaen said.
Mirsari nodded. "Fair enough." She paused. "You know, some of my professors talk about the Vesperati holds. They don't say terribly nice things about it."
"Really?" Thaen asked. He leaned in. What were they saying?
"Yes. They say that in the holds, its permissible to beat your wife. They say that if a woman isn't married by twenty-three, she's considered a spinster. And they say that men are trained to be cruel to their sisters and daughters, dictators in the family, cold and remorseless." Mirsari didn't accuse him of it, she didn't say the words with any malice. "Is that true?"
So why was Thaen annoyed by it?
"No." Thaen sighed. "There was this one family we knew, where we were sure the man beat his wife. The man wasn't caught at first, kept claiming that his wife was just clumsy. Our family knew that he did, so our grandfather said that none of us were going to buy anything from his store. Soon, no one was buying anything from him, and that was enough pressure for him to confess. He was jailed by that."
"Alright, so that was one part wrong." Mirsari sighed. "What about the other two?"
"Well, anyone's considered a bit strange if they're not married by twenty three. I'm running out too. I'm almost twenty one." Thaen paused. "And as for the other claim, no. Can I ask a question about your teachers?"
"Sure. I won't count this as your question." Mirsari smiled.
"Your teachers. Do they frown on competition? Rougher play? If they were parents, would they be the kind that make sure their sons don't act like boys, and yell and tumble around and get into messes?"
Mirsari gave him a flat stare. "You're joking, right?" She chuckled. "They're not going to have kids, but they feel it's their God-given right to lecture you on how to raise your kids. Exactly like that. How did you know?"
"There were a few of them in our hold." Thaen rolled his eyes. "Or rather, they were. They all left."
"They probably moved here and got teaching positions," Mirsari muttered. "Anyway, what did you want to ask me."
"Well..."
That was when the waiter stepped in. "May I take your order?"
Mirsari began to fire off immediately. "Yes. One bottle of Aramondo da Caspero, chilled. A salmon fillet, lightly seared. And Thaen?"
"Um... the pan-seared whitefin," he said. The waiter nodded, and vanished into the crowd. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you." He cleared his throat. "What do you do with alchemy? I know Indra said you are an alchemist. But what does that entail?"
Mirsari sighed. "Are you asking me to give you a crash course on one of the most secretive and complex arts in the world? Over dinner?"
"Maybe."
"Well, it can't hurt to try." She paused. "Basically, there are three types of principles."
"What's a principle?" Thaen asked. "I assume you're not talking moral principles?"
"No." Mirsari frowned, trying to think. "It's kind of hard to explain. I guess you could say it's an aspect of any object's makeup. The hardness of a stone is determined by a principle, for example."
"So if you take that principle away, you get a soft stone? Like chalk?" Thaen asked.
"No. You get no stone. A soft stone has a different principle, but if you take away a principle, you change the object entirely. And that's an incredibly simplified version. Anyway, there's three types. Hydrangic principles."
"Are the other two salic and sulfuric principles?" Thaen asked. "Indra had talked about them a bit."
"Yes." Mirsari said. "Salics are additive. When they are introduced to a system of already bound-together principles, they're likely to join on and add. Hydrangics are more likely to attract the already-bound principles more, and pull them off. They form their own compounds by taking from others. And sulfurics are a mix. They add on, but repel other principles."
"Okay," Thaen said, a bit confused. His mind was swimming with that. "So, it's really a puzzle? Trying to figure out which principles you wish to add onto a compound?"
"In a way." Mirsari sighed, and pulled out a paper. "Take a look at this. It's a compound we call aqua fortis. Or nitric acid to chemists. We synthesize it differently."
Thaen looked at the diagram. "What are these symbols?"
"Alchemical notation for different known principles." She pointed to the lines connecting the symbols. "These are the bonds they make. Certain processes- sublimation, calcination, putrefaction- break certain bonds. For example, this double lines mean that they're broken by heating processes. Boiling, sun-drying, and calcination, for example, will break these bonds. Which means these become freed." She pointed to a few small clusters of symbols. "Which means we can isolate them and attach them to our formulae."
Thaen moved over so he was closer to her. She smelled wonderful. Had she put on perfume? "So, it's a complicated puzzle?" he asked.
"Yes and no." She pulled out another slip of paper. "You see this symbol here? Inside the circle?" Thaen nodded. "That's an unknown. That symbol means it could either be a compound or a single principle."
"And those fork things?" Thaen asked. The tines of the 'fork' protruded away from the circular glyph, while the 'handle' of the fork connected to it.
"They're demarcations of the connections to the known compounds," Mirsari said.
"Huh." He paused. "I wouldn't be able to do this. Not even if I studied. How did you get into studying alchemy?"
"I'm guessing you know about what happened to my wings?" Mirsari asked.
"Yeah, Indra told me about that," Thaen said. It still made him angry, learning about what Indra's stepfather did. But he rested in the fact that Mirsari would get surgery, and would be able to fly again. That was what Indra wanted.
"I read a lot. Learned about alchemy that way." Mirsari turned to look at him. "Turns out, I had a natural aptitude for it."
"Really?" Thaen asked.
"Yes. Why are you sitting next to me?"
"Oh. Just so I could see the drawings. You want me to move?"
"No, no, it's fine." Mirsari gave a quick smile. "Sorry about being a little rude on the way up here."
"No. I understand that you weren't intending to go on a date with someone," Thaen said. "I didn't know I was going to be doing this either. Complete surprise for both of us." He shrugged. "At least we're on an equal footing."
Mirsari rolled her eyes. "Forgive Indra. She knows not what she does."
"I've seen it happen. YOu know, she stepped onto a mage circle right after she finished warning us about traps."
"Really?" Mirsari chuckled. "I'll have to ask her about it."
"Don't bother," Thaen said. "She got knocked out, and then thrown into me. Didn't remember a thing."
Mirsari laughed at that. "What else happened?" she asked. "You'll have to tell me more."
Their food arrived, but the two of them were so lost in conversation that they didn't notice it at all.
***
Halfway home, Mirsari changed.
It was a subtle change, but one Thaen couldn't help but notice. She had walked to the restaurant tense and annoyed. But now, she was relaxed. Almost... happy.
He offered his arm, and she smiled. "Thank you." She took it, wrapped her arm around his, and they kept walking.
She was warm against him, a different kind of warmth than the heat of a fire, a more pleasant, more filling warmth. Her hair smelled slightly of that sweet perfume. She was pretty, Thaen had to admit (and admitted gladly), and intelligent too. And, from their talk, around his age. He was surprised she wasn't already in a relationship with someone.
They walked that way, through the cold street, huddling in their warmth. The street wasn't dark, thanks to several flickering candle-lamps, shielded in glass, and as they walked through the street, they stepped through pools of flickering illumination. It made every hair on Thaen's head, every strand of fur on his body, feel like it was made of ice, like he was wrapped in garments of ice.
Eventually, even with the cold, they made it back to Mirsari's and Indra's home. "Thank you for the meal," Mirsari said, smiling at him, "and the company."
"Thank you," Thaen said. "I hope I wasn't too much of a pain to deal with."
"No, you weren't." Mirsari smiled and shrugged. "In fact, that whole ordeal was much less painful than I expected." She unlaced her arm from his, and stepped back. "We should, perhaps, do something again."
And then she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you soon, Thaen." She walked into her house, leaving a stunned Thaen standing in the night.
Eventually, after standing there, trying to process what had just happened, he managed to get his mind off the kiss she gave him and onto getting home. But that spot on his cheek where she had kissed him, where her lips had made contact, burned with the kind of warmth that made him want to burst into song, to jump out of sheer joy in his heart.
Of course, that burning passion in his chest could only warm him up so much, and by the time he got back to his new home, he was shivering.
Karik'ar was waiting for him. "I see your date went well." He ushered Thaen into the building, gestured to a seat by a roaring fireplace. "I made you something to keep you warm." He handed Thaen a cup of tea. "Drink up. You need something warm in your stomach."
Thaen sipped the concoction. It wasn't sweet, but it had a strong flavor. And, more importantly, it was warm. He could feel the heat suffusing into his limbs, strengthening him, giving him new life.
"You got a letter," Karik'ar said. "Skaria tried to read it. I told her it was rude... but it didn't matter." He pulled out a leaf of paper. "We can't understand whatever language it's written in."
Thaen looked at it. "Ten-Zuani. That's what it is." It was the language Laidu taught him. And that was who it was from. "It's... he's hiring me for a job."
"What does he want you to do?" Karik'ar asked.
"Break into Lord Solstael's manor."