• PM To Join • A Shocking Encounter

[Ivy Gawyne]

Zi'da 11th

Ivy could feel the sharp burn in her lungs as she "raced" down streets. Honestly she couldn't really run, so it was more of a brisk walk. A stack of papers were nestled in her arms and a bottle of ink ended up having to be shoved into the front of her shirt with quiet literally no where else to put it. Why didn't she bring a bag? Oh right, she was too poor to afford a bag! For being a noble poverty was far too familiar a friend. With the stack of papers pressed against her chest and her head tilted downwards she was pretty much running blind, which was always a stupid thing to do. Especially stupid for clumsy people, a group of beings in which Ivy had a high rank. She could trip over air itself if she didn't pay attention, it was no trouble what so ever tripping over rocks, ramming into other people, or even running into walls. She hadn't always been this clumsy. She also hadn't always been so useless, once upon a time she knew how to fight and she had accurate if not amazing coordination. She had enough balance and skill to haul herself into the places where parents tended to hide sweets. Or more so annoyed servants hid sweets when she kept getting into them. Ivy also remembered learning how to pick locks at one point to get into the cabinets holding those sweets, but that was yet another skill she'd completely forgot after putting up multiple walls and crawling so far into a shell few could drag her out with all their strength. If anything people trying to coax her out of the protective walls only made her retreat further.

Speaking of clumsy and ramming into people, something along those lines was bound to happen when she wasn't paying attention to where she was going. She just didn't expect that specific event to happen though. She felt her body crash into someone else. She might have knocked someone over, if it wasn't for the fact she weighed as much as a breeze. Instead after she slammed into whoever it was she tumbled to the ground. She didn't look up, she couldn't tell if the person she ran into fell over or not, though honestly considering the fact she couldn't run very fast (if her sped up walk could even be called a run) and she weighed the same as a feather she highly doubted it. If anything running into someone else caused more trouble for her than it did them. Her papers scattered about and she rushed to grab them before the wet seeped into them. A little wet would be okay, she could dry them when she got home. But if all her papers got soaked, well then she would be starving this season.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated a couple of times while she rushed about trying to grab her papers. "So very, very sorry. I didn't mean to cause any trouble. The panic in her voice was evident. The quiet warble was layered with fear so much so that it sounded almost like a plead for her life. Of course that was how everything sounded coming out of Ivy's mouth, but it could come off as a little strange to a stranger. Especially kinder ones who honestly meant no ill intent. "I'm sorry, so, so sorry," she repeated once more in a panicked rush. Finally she righted herself standing straight backed and looking at the man in front of her with nothing but fear in her watery blue eyes. She pressed the papers she was able to retrieve against her chest covering up her pendant. Her eyes opened even wider the fear becoming doubly evident. A small amount of gray flashed into her eyes. The realization of just who she managed to ram into hit her like a brick wall. She whimpered quietly. Ivy was a noble, she'd be damned if she didn't recognize another noble when she saw one. It just made things all the more worse for her mental state. Ivy could no longer produce words. She clamped her jaw shut tight shrinking slightly in on herself and taking a step back.

She tried to force out another sorry, but all she produced was a pathetic squeak. She was trying to ward off any shaking or crying she was tempted to do. Even though she wanted to crumble under the weight of the simple encounter she knew that she had to be strong. That was why she came to this city after all, to be far from home and the place where that event transpired. To be in a place where she might once again become strong, if not strong then to become an actual person instead of a husk. If she was lucky this man wouldn't even know who she was, the entire encounter would pass by painlessly. She dropped her right hand to her side discreetly pinching her thigh. The sharp jolt of pain helped her get herself under control. "O-once again, I'm so s-s-sorry sir," she said dipping her head slightly. She hoped he would just take the apology and allow her to leave. But fate didn't seem like it was going to be kind today.

[Tristan Venora]

Tristan was also racing down the streets. He had just had a fantastic new idea and he wanted to show it to Lady Jane Andaris, the manager of Rynmere Theatre, right now! Since he had freed his slave the season before, he didn’t have anybody to carry his stuff anymore which meant that he held an incredibly heavy bag in his arms. Oh, he had tried to put his horse Maxos (named after Peake Maxos Andaris, the infamous tax collector) in front of a cart, but the horse had refused to pull it. His cat had also refused to pull the cart which was why he had eventually returned it to the shop he had bought it from (the cart, not the cat).

Since he was in such a hurry, he wasn’t paying a lot of attention to what was happening around him and didn’t notice that Ivy was hurrying in the opposite direction until it was much too late and they had literally crashed into each other. Tristan just stood there for a moment, completely dazed and confused and then proceeded to look at the girl on the ground in front of him.

He rubbed his chest that she had crashed into with full force (which wasn’t that much force considering that she didn’t seem to weigh much) and then he bent down to help her pick her papers up before they turned into a wet and illegible mass. She was quite pretty, he observed, but she seemed to have hit her head when she had crashed into him as she was repeating the same word again and again. He furrowed his brow a bit before he informed her,

“You just have to apologize once. I’m not hard of hearing, and I don’t bear grudges either.” She seemed to be afraid of him, he noticed and even whimpered quietly like a scared little animal. That was a first. Nobody had ever been afraid of him before. He was skinny and of very average height, and his clothes (black silk and a very fashionable olive green leather jacket) didn’t exactly serve to make him look more intimidating either. In fact Tristan Venora was one of the least intimidating men in all of Rynmere.

Unless somebody had secretly put a spell on him and he currently looked like some sort of horrifying monster? He pondered that possibility for a moment before he decided that, no, that was highly unlikely. There were laws regarding magic in Rynmere. But still, the fact that the young woman was nearly scared out of her mind remained. He smiled at her, hoping that would put her at ease and then gestured towards her papers,

“What kind of papers are these anyway? I hope they aren’t too important.” He looked worried for a moment. He really hoped that he hadn’t ruined something potentially vital because he hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going! “If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know. And then tell me, do I currently look human to you?” He just needed to know. It didn’t occur to him that she might just be afraid of him because he was a noble and also looked very much like one.

[Ivy Gawyne]

She turned her head downwards trying not to make eye contact. Her eyes were completely gray at this point. Her breath hitched in her throat as her mind reeled. Ivy had no clue what so ever as to what she should be doing with herself. For all she knew this was a horrible, terrible man that was going to hurt her! How was she supposed to know he was one of the least scary men in all of Rynmere? She had no clue what this man was like, all she saw was a noble. "L-lots of these are j-j-just blank p-papers. A couple were p-pieces of work..." she said looking down at one of her papers that was thoroughly soaked. The ink bled away and she sighed bitterly. "There goes my pay check this season," she muttered quietly to herself. She guessed she was just going to have to work a little harder at finding that part time job.

"O-o-oh it's perfectly fine!" She said maybe a little to loudly. "A-a-and of course you look human," she whimpered. That was the problem. He looked like a human, a human man. Specifically a noble. "I'm perfectly fine, absolutely completely fine," she said backing away slowly. "I'm just gonna go ahead and leave now?" She said, the intonation of her voice rising as if she was questioning herself. When Tristan tried to hand her back the papers he'd picked up Ivy flinched not sure what to do with herself. Her free arm was now completely limp at her side almost like she'd forgotten how to use it, her other arm was of course holding what papers she'd been able to retrieve. "S-sorry,"

She took another hesitant step backwards only to land on a slick patch of ground. Her feet flung themselves out from under her like they were trying to escape their master. The woman gave a small squeak as she started to panic. A moment later she was once again on the ground, her back pressed against cold and wet. She sat there for a couple moments, dazed and unsure of what to do with herself. Eventually she pushed herself up into a sitting position, slightly shaken. She blinked once and then twice still sitting on the ground. She was wet, cold, and now she'd made a complete fool of herself. There was a hot sting in her eyes each time she forced them shut. The threat of tears became a reality as her small body began to shake with hiccuping sobs.

She let what papers she had collected fall into her lap as her hand grabbed for her necklace. She kept it tightly in her grip, clinging to all the strength and hope she could get from it. She was truly the embodiment of worthlessness. Why did such a pathetic little creature like her exist? "I'm sorry. I'm an absolutely disgraceful mess, I'm sorry," Ivy muttered quietly directing her voice towards Tristan. She viciously rubbed at her eyes until they were red. She tried to force herself up but her legs just gave out under her again. "I'm sorry, so sorry," she repeated like a chant or a prayer. Obviously she wasn't going to be able to help herself stand, though she did desperately seem to be trying. She let go of her necklace leaving the silver side to face up.

"C-c-can," she paused for a moment. Her voice was shaking almost as much as she herself was. "C-can y-y-you help me u-up?" She asked. She'd managed to stop crying but her expression said she might start again at any moment should something bad happen. She reached out a hand hesitantly asking for help. Her entire being was shaking like a leaf, her hand not excluded. She couldn't get up, she didn't even have the semblance of strength to do it. But reaching out for help was something that scared her. So she looked up at this man with great big watery gray eyes, praying that he was a friend instead of a foe.

[Tristan Venora]

“I’m sorry”, the horrible, terrible man said as Ivy informed him that some of the papers were pieces of work. He felt quite bad now. She would starve because of him, she would be thrown out of her house because of him, and he didn’t know what he could do to prevent that. It was just then that he remembered that he was a noble and that nobles were rich. When he had been in Ne’hear the season before, and the city had been destroyed, he had thrown nels at the poor, so why he shouldn’t he be doing the same in Andaris now? He reached for his purse that was hidden in an interior pocket of his jacket (after nearly having been robbed once he had learned his lesson and didn’t keep his money in an obvious place anymore).

“If there’s anything I can do to help, I have money. It’s my fault that you dropped your papers, so it’s only fair that I keep you from starving for the rest of the season”, he offered. “What do you do as a job anyway?” he wanted to know. “Are you a writer? A teacher? I sometimes write stuff as well …” Upon realizing that she probably wasn’t interested in the weird plays that he wrote at the moment, he broke off – although he did breathe a sigh of relief as she informed him that he looked human. That had been his greatest worry besides a woman losing all her money because of him.

“No, you are not fine”, he informed her. “You are in a state of shock. I’ll never be able to forgive myself if I just let you leave and something happens to you. My cousin’s a doctor, and he’s even richer than I am!” As he said that he wondered what Alistair would say if he brought him another charity case. The man was quite a typical noble, cool, dignified and proper – although he seemed to have a strange aversion to slavery.

As she moved backwards, he wondered if he should do something to help her, but before he could extend a hand she had already landed on the ground again. “I told you that you are not fine”, he reminded her. As she started to sob, he froze for a moment and looked at her in panic. He didn’t know what to do now. He hadn’t exactly dealt with a lot of crying women yet, and seeing her like that made him feel slightly uncomfortable. But he couldn’t very well leave her to her misery, so he removed a fine lacy handkerchief that he had stolen from his grandmother when he had last visited her from another pocket and wordlessly handed it to Ivy.

“Some people call me a disgraceful mess as well”, he pointed out, hoping that the comment would make her feel better about herself and smirked. He really didn’t mind being called such. In fact he considered it a compliment. It was much better than being another conservative nobleman. “So maybe we can be disgraceful messes together?”

As she reached out a hand, he immediately took it. “I’ll help you, but only if you stop saying that you are sorry”, he informed her before he quickly pulled her up. “It’s getting a bit repetitive. Unless the constant apologies are intentional, and you are currently trying to see if you can make somebody fall asleep by always telling them the same, frustrating thing?” He raised an eyebrow as he said that and laughed because he didn’t really think that she had such plans. But on the other hand …

[Ivy Gawyne]

"Really, I'm perfectly fine. This is my own fault a-anyway for not p-p-paying enough attention to my surroundings," she said trying to force the shiver in her voice to disappear. Obviously she failed, but she was trying hard at the least. She didn't want to look weak and pathetic, but perhaps it was a little too late for that. She paused for a moment when he asked what she did. "Philosopher... it's a job that doesn't really pay very well though. I've been trying to find a second job. Especially with Cylus coming..." She shook her head slightly at the thought. If she didn't make enough money she was going to either freeze or starve and there was nothing she could do about it. Well, there were things that she could do. She could steal or beg or run back to her parents. In spite of her nature she was a little more stubborn than that.

She looked up at him curiously when he made the comment about he himself being a disgraceful mess. How could someone like him be anywhere close to a mess? He looked like a noble, a powerful and handsome one at that. Yet the way he acted completely contradicted the normal ideals of a noble. She supposed that made them similar. "You really are a good person... right?" There was a slight ebb of shock in her voice followed up by a question. That sentence alone was all someone needed to know when it came to Ivy. She still seemed frightened by the man, but she didn't seem like she was going to run away at any second now.

She tilted her head at his comments about her constant phrase. She couldn't really help it. Ivy felt like she was a constant problem, she needed to say sorry for every problem she caused. Yet here she was causing another problem for saying it. "Sor-" she caught herself quickly before she finished the phrase a light blush dancing across her cheeks. "Oops," she muttered looking away slightly. On the inside she was yelling at herself for being a total idiot, but on the outside she shrunk away slightly in embarrassment.

"I think we're disgraceful in two very different ways, if you knew I doubt you'd want to be around me. But I'm in no position to argue. If you want to try and help me do as you will. Just know in the end whatever you expect me to be I'll be a disappointment to you," she said with a bittersweet smile. "Oh right, I'm being terribly r-rude. I'm Ivy. It's p-pleasure to make your acquaintance," she said. At this point she was shaking almost as much as her voice. Her stutters had gone away to a certain degree, but they returned with a vengeance if she started to feel uncomfortable. She tried her best to introduce herself and maybe make a good impression. She'd already made a horrible one.

"Since I told you what I do, now it's your turn," she said a slight twinkle of curiosity lighting in her ocean like eyes. She still seemed fairly uneasy, like she might break and burst into tears again or run away if something went wrong. She was best compared to a puppy that used to have an abusive owner. Shivering at every movement in fear it might be hit.

[Tristan Venora]

“I wasn’t really paying attention either”, Tristan replied. “So it’s both of our fault.” He couldn’t help but notice that she was shivering. He didn’t know whether it was because she was nervous or because she was cold, but either way, it worried him. He looked at his jacket which wasn’t that thick, but would still provide some warmth and decided, “If you are cold, you can borrow my jacket, and I’ll accompany you to wherever you are going. I may not look like it, but despite my being skinny I’m quite resistant to the cold, I assure you.”

“Oh”, he made, and his eyes widened a little as she told him that she was a philosopher. He definitely hadn’t expected that. She didn’t look like a philosopher at all. As far as he was concerned, philosophers were weird old men and women that neglected their bodily hygiene and only ate plants because of some sort of ethical nonsense. Ivy was young and pretty though, despite that weird speech impediment. “What exactly do philosophers do?” he wanted to know. “Do you philosophize about human nature and good and evil?”

“How exactly does one make money with that?” he continued. He was genuinely interested. His plays were regularly shown at the theatre, and people paid a lot of money to see them, but he doubted that people paid to hear a philosopher speak. Perhaps, he considered, it was one of those jobs where you were employed at a university or a similar institution and the whole point of your job was to produce more philosophers that would eventually become teachers and teach people philosophy as well.

“No, I’m evil incarnate”, he replied and rolled his eyes as she asked him if he was a good person. “Honestly, what kind of question is that? Do you think a criminal would tell you that he’s a bad person if you ask him?” He shook his head, but a moment later he felt a little bad because Ivy was quite obviously unwell, and he’d already caused her enough problems by crashing into her. So he decided to make up for it by smiling reassuringly at her and trying his best to be nice to her.

“If you knew what I sometimes do, you wouldn’t want to be around me either”, he informed her in quite a cheerful tone. “Perhaps I could show you some of the things I make sometimes. Unfortunately my masterpiece was stolen last season, but the rest of my stuff isn’t too bad either.” He noticed that she still hadn’t stopped shivering, so he decided not to wait for her to request his jacket (she might be too shy to ask), but took it off and put it around her shoulders. Sometimes Tristan Venora could actually act like a gentleman!

“I’m pleased to meet you, Ivy”, he said as she introduced himself and bowed slightly. “I’m Tristan. As for what I do, I’m a sculptor and a playwright. Occasionally I also slay shadow beasts and pretend to be the king. So shall we go?” he asked. Now he was the one who was shivering because he had given her his jacket. If he moved, he thought, maybe he wouldn’t freeze to death.

[Ivy Gawyne]

A small smile actually found its way onto her face when he looked so shocked about her occupation. She laughed lightly knowing exactly what he was thinking when he heard the word philosopher. "Philosophers can do a lot of things. Most of us use it as a supplement to something else. I personally study human nature as well as immortal existence and the interactions between the two. I, as you might be able to see, write papers on what I study and find out. Though it's sometimes hard to get publishing companies to buy them. My life would be easier if I could get my hands on a better paying job. I always thought about doing something fighting related as a child, but it was never in the family and my dad discouraged a girl like me fighting. After... Things, happened I decided I was going to get a teaching job," she said her voice becoming a lot quieter. The light in her eyes seemed to dull as if her very spirit died. "But I couldn't find anything." She muttered.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything I could do or anyone I could speak to? At this point I'm okay with nearly anything!" She looked up at him hopefully. Quickly she caught her mistake turning her head away. "Well that was a little rude of me," she commented to herself quietly. "Never mind," she said a little louder her cheeks the cherry color of embarrassment. She hissed a couple more self chastisements under her breath and shook her head. The self hate she seemed to hold was apparently rather strong.

She flinched at his reaction to her question. "Yeah, I guess you wouldn't really tell me if you were bad. I'm an idiot," she said quietly before turning her gaze down to her feet in order to avoid his eyes. She could see her vision blurring but she blinked at the liquid that was trying to gather. She forced it back and turned to him with a smile. "You can frankly just disregard half of what I say," she said with a laugh. It could be taken as a jest but there was a look in her eyes that made her seem serious.

"There are few things that can make me dislike a person. Just about anything can make me fear someone, but that's just my nature at this point. Almost nothing can keep me from giving someone a second chance. I doubt 'what you do sometimes' is bad enough to make me turn tail," she said with a small shake of her head. That silly nature of hers was exactly why she got herself into as much trouble as she did. She turned her attention back to his words when he started talking about his works. "It's a shame your masterpiece was stolen, but you should really take it as a sign. It just means you can make something better. I'd love to see what you've made sometime. Ahh, but it seems it's starting to get late and I really should be heading home if I intend to eat this season," she said semi jokingly.

A sculptor and a play write, certainly more intriguing than anything Ivy had ever done with herself. "You certainly sound like an interesting man," she said with a slight laugh. "Sorry to take your jacket, you must be freezing. It seems I might just be a little more resistant to the cold, but that's based off where I was born and grown. Speaking of do you live in Andaris or are you just visiting? It would be a shame if this is the last time we saw one another," she said trying to make conversation as the two walked. She tried to keep the fastest pace she could, but that still wasn't very fast. She internally flinched at how pathetic she must look.

[Tristan Venora]

“Humans and Immortals?“ Tristan asked. His eyes lit up as he heard that. “That sounds really interesting. Can you tell me something abou my nature? I’m human. Or maybe you could tell me something about Ilaren’s nature and how it relates to me. She’s my favourite Immortal apart from Zanik, and I worship her.” Maybe, he decided, philosophy wasn’t as pointless as he had thought it was if it could do that. He absolutely loved hearing people tell him about Ilaren – and about himself and how twisted and strange a man he was (even though he was really the most normal member of his family)!

“You know, if you still want to do something fighting related, I could teach you”, he offered because she looked so sad, and he didn’t want her to be sad. She’d already experienced enough sadness to last her until Cylus – at the very least. “I know how to use the sword – a little. My cousin could teach you as well. He’s a knight or something. You shouldn’t do what your parents want, you should do what you want, otherwise you’ll be forever unhappy, and being unhappy doesn’t feel good. I should know. The woman I love decided that she’d rather be with her tutor.”

Now the light in his eyes dulled for a moment. Despite all his attempts not to, he still loved Faith, and a part of him would probably always love her. “As for a teaching job, I’m afraid I can’t help you in that regard because I don’t know anybody who needs teaching, but have you thought about asking the university? It sounds like just the place for a philosopher!” he remarked, remembering his previous thoughts about the only point of philosophers being the production of more philosophers.

“You are not rude, and you are not an idiot!” he insisted. “And even if you were, I wouldn’t mind. Idiots can be rather interesting sometimes.” Hating yourself was a completely foreign concept to Tristan. Tristan didn’t hate himself. He was absolutely in love with himself and thought himself perfect, and he didn’t understand how anybody couldn’t. Love themselves, that is. Hating yourself sounded extremely unpleasant. It also sounded like a lot of work because you probably constantly had to find new reasons to hate yourself because the old reasons turned out not to be good enough.

“Giving people a second chance is not a bad thing though”, he pointed out. “A lot of people deserve a second chance. As for my making something better, I hope I’ll be able to, although it will be hard. That sculpture I made of Lord Andaris was absolutely perfect. Did I already tell you that my masterpiece was a sculpture of Lord Andaris? Peake, not Benji. I don’t know his father very well, but he’s probably too old and too ugly to make a good sculpture of.”

“Thank you!” he replied as she called him an interesting man and laughed as well. He normally tended to walk very quickly, but now he slowed down to match her pace. “I live in Andaris most of the time. Sometimes I also visit my grandmother in Sabaissant. She’s old and strict and grumpy, but she’s still my grandmother. And what about you? It sounds like you live in Andaris now, but where did you grow up?”

“You know, if you are really more resistant to the cold, you can always give me my jacket back”, he added.

[Ivy Gawyne]

"Let's meet once or twice more and I'll see what I think of you," she said. There was a humorous lightness to her tone that was actually cute, a good contrast to the almost constant dreariness of her fearful self. "As for Ilaren I don't know much about her besides what I've studied so I wouldn't be able to say for certain. It would take me a little while to come to any decision on the nature between you and her. She supports mortals, correct?" Ivy asked a small smile lighting her features at the almost childish excitement the man before her expressed. It most certainly had an easing effect on the jumpy Gawyne. "But certainly given enough time and interaction I can come to an accurate assessment of your nature and character. Perhaps I'll even dredge up a dark and horrifying secret," she said. A mischievous smirk crossed her features as her last words came out almost like a purr. This was the closest she'd gotten to her old nature in years. Though the playfulness quickly vanished when she realized how she was acting. Just like that she was frigid once more.

"You'd really help me?" She asked with shock when he offered to teach her some fighting skills. The comment about the woman he used to love sent a slight twinge of annoyance through her. "Then I guess she missed out," Ivy huffed. "You're one of the kindest and creative and most fun people I've met in this entire city, especially out of the male populace. She must be daft to pass up such a man!" Ivy snapped feeling anger for Tristan who seemed only to experience sadness for the loss of his 'love'. She only realized all the compliments she'd piled on moments later and panic took her. "Please don't take that the wrong way," she said blushing pathetically as she shrunk down slightly. She began to toy with a lose stand of hair. "Immortals, why am I such an idiot," she muttered with a shake of her head trying to force the blood flow in her cheeks to go back to normal.

For Ivy it was rather easy to hate herself. Everything she did was wrong and she could do nothing right. "At this point I'm looking for any kind of job. Honestly I'll go wherever the currents could guide me. Sadly the waters around me seems to have gone stagnant years ago. Like I said, I'd do just about anything. There are still some things I wont drop to, but they're few and few between," she said with a shake of her head. "I've already tried multiple schools and universities and private tutoring jobs. No one wants me because I have no skills as a teacher. At this point I'm willing to throw myself up on a stage or in front of a blade if it means a couple nels to buy me new cloths." For Ivy the old reasons she hated herself only became more valid and the new reasons seemed to appear like magic out of thin air.

"No, you didn't mention that part. Is there a story behind the sculpture? It's usually the emotion behind a piece that makes it powerful," Ivy said her attention turning back to Tristan and away form her self hate when he brought up the sculpture. She'd never met Peake personally but as a noble, even a not self respecting one, she knew about the young lord. If not in detail then she knew the basics.

"I know the feeling of having an old and grumpy grandmother," Ivy said with a small touch of amusement as Tristan talked about his own home. "I've lived in Andaris ever since I left home to make something of myself. My family didn't argue because things that had happened in the past. Honestly I think some of them wanted to be rid of me, though that's honestly just my self hate talking. I adore my family and I love the place that I grew up. I was born and raised in Fort Gawyne. I haven't seen my family in a while..."

"You can have your jacket back. I'd rather not have you freeze to death and have it blamed on me," she said with a small laugh handing him back the coat. The cold still stung but it wasn't as pronounced an effect against her.

[Tristan Venora]

“I think so“, Tristan replied somewhat uncertainly as Ivy asked him whether Ilaren supported mortals and furrowed his brow. He’d never really thought about which Immortals supported mortals and which didn’t. Truth to be told, he’d always thought that all Immortals supported mortals, just different kind of mortals. Syroa, Aelig, Lisirra and their friends were more interested in the evil ones while Moseke and Ilaren supported the good mortals.

“And I’d absolutely love for you to dredge up one of my deep dark secrets!” he continued. Most people would rather keep their secrets to themselves, but Tristan looked positively excited at the prospect of somebody finding everything out. He smiled and his eyes shimmered brightly. “Next time we should meet in a tavern or something though”, he added. “And make sure that none of your precious papers get damaged.”

“Yes, of course”, he replied as she asked him if he would really help her. He didn’t understand why his offer of help surprised her so much. He loved helping a woman in need. Whether she would gain anything from their potential training session remained to be seen of course. Tristan was an even worse fighter than he had told her. He only knew the very basics of sword fighting. He’d only gotten interested in combat recently after nearly dying during that cursed mission to Oscillus.

“You should tell Faith that”, he murmured as Ivy talked about his love being daft to pass up on such a man. In his opinion Padraig was dull and uncreative, and he didn’t understand what she saw in him. “And please don’t apologize and call yourself stupid again. It’s getting old. Besides, I love being called one of the kindest and most fun people in the city!”

Ivy seemed to be really worried about her lack of a job, Tristan observed, and he had the feeling that she needed more than encouragement and funny and somewhat quirky comments this time. But what could he do to help her? For the first time since he had met her Tristan was at a bit of a loss. Advising people, he realized, was not exactly his forte.

“How about you just don’t tell them that you have no teaching experience?” he finally asked. “You could claim that you taught spoiled brats in another country. They’d likely never find out that you didn’t.” It was just then that it occurred to him that starting a job with a lie might not be the best idea (although it would still be far better than starving to death or becoming homeless), so he decided to make another suggestion.

“Or how about you throw yourself in front of a blade on a stage? As I told you I work for the theatre. You could be the tragic murder victim in my next play!” He looked at her as if he honestly expected her to be overjoyed at the prospect. It was then that she asked him about the story behind the sculpture though, and excitement made way to thoughtfulness. Why had he made a sculpture of the most dangerous men in Rynmere – a sculpture whose defining characteristic was its almost total lack of clothing?

“I don’t know”, he finally admitted because he really didn’t know and wasn’t sure if there was more to it either. “I just like making sculptures of celebrities, I suppose, especially weird and mildly inappropriate ones.” He had of course forgotten to tell Ivy what exactly the sculpture had looked like so that she would likely be a little confused by his words. Either way, it was one of the greatest sculptures that anybody in Idalos had ever made!

“Thank you!” He was incredibly relieved as she gave him his jacket back. Being a gentleman, he realized, might not always a good idea despite what people said. “So why haven’t you seen your family in a while?” he then asked. “If you don’t mind the question. Did anything happen?”