Saun 40, Arc 720
What did you give a woman that already had everything? What kind of gift would ever be good enough for a woman that was richer and more famous than most other people in the world of Idalos, that had stopped a war and become the champion of Immortal? Tristan had been mulling over that question since Saoire’s visit a couple of trials earlier, and he was still none the wiser. The woman that he would be exchanging gifts with probably already had an entire room full of magic items – no, she probably had an entire house that was filled with magic items (that she used to help those that were in need).
He doubted that any of his paintings, his plays or his alchemical creations would be good enough. He was just sitting in his living room, a cup of delicious hot chocolate on the table in front of him (because he didn’t enjoy worrying very much, and hot chocolate made doing such at least a little less unpleasant) and leafing through his books, waiting for inspiration to strike him when he realized something, something that he should have kept in mind all along. Faith was not only one of the most famous women in the world, if not the most famous one, she was also one of his closest friends.
Faith was not only the Champion of Famula who had stopped Ellasin, ended a war, led the Order of the Adunih and become the Chancellor of her very own university, she was so much more. She had been his slave once, she had threatened his brother Teddy with a brush, and they had fought the shadow monsters together. They had laughed and cried together, and they had had a picnic in the crow’s nest during a boat trip to Ne’haer. He had loved her once, but he had freed her when she had asked him to. She had married her tutor – which was something that he did not mind anymore, for he would never have met his Ashling otherwise. And besides, he was happy that she was happy.
Perhaps, he could …
A loud meow pulled him out of his thoughts abruptly, and he watched as his cat Mistral that was actually a resident of the Misty Miasma that had gotten lost in Idalos jumped onto the table as if he was getting impatient. A moment later, his eyes suddenly lit up. He had felt a little inadequate before, and he had been at a loss, but there was no reason for him to feel inadequate. He was an amazing artist, and he had the perfect idea now. And besides, a Zi’da gift was about more than just being expensive and impressing people. It was a way to show someone that you cared, and that you knew them and understood them.
It should make them smile.
His gift would be personal (although a part of him hoped that it would impress Faith, nevertheless; he realized that she had actually never seen that particular invention of his in action before). With that thought in mind, he finished his hot chocolate and went into his studio, much to the chagrin of Mistral who wanted Tristan to focus on him. Mistral always wanted to be the center of attention, no matter what!
~~~
A few bits later, Tristan, who was dressed in a sky-blue tunic, Melrathi style, and a pair of matching pants, among other things, stood in front of his table, wearing goggles and gloves (because he was not very fond of pieces of stone landing in his eyes or accidentally stabbing himself with a chisel). In front of him were four small lumps of white stone and a number of hammers and chisels in different sizes (as well as several other tools that a sculptor commonly needed).
He grabbed the biggest chisel and a hammer and went to work on the first lump of stone, hitting the back of said chisel with a hammer repeatedly until the lump of stone started to resemble … well, at this stage, it didn’t resemble anything in particular because he was working on the general shape before he took care of the details. It did kind of look like something that might have four legs when it was done though.
Sculpting was a time-consuming and exhausting art. It took a certain amount of strength which was why Tristan took a break after a while, took a seat, wiped his brow, drank a bit and closed his eyes for a moment before he continued with renewed determination – because Faith deserved the best and most amazing gift that she could possibly get!
After what seemed like an eternity, he had finally hewn all four stones (two bigger stones and two smaller stones) into a rough shape. It was then that he realized that there might be a problem. He was an excellent sculptor, an absolutely extraordinary sculptor in fact, and he had a perfect memory thanks to Vri’s Blessing, but it would still be better to use a model. There might be some details that he had never paid attention to before.
So, without further ado, he went into the living room – only to find out that his prospective model was gone. He went into his bedroom next, and finally into the kitchen where Hannah, one of his servants, was making dinner. He found Mistral there, lounging in a box that had once been filled with various supplies, looking quite haughty, as if the simple cardboard box was actually a luxurious bed that was worth thousands of nels.
“You need to help me out, please, Mistral”, he told the cat in a friendly tone of voice, as if said cat, a black cat with sulfur-yellow eyes could actually understand him (which he might; as a former resident of the Misty Miasma, he was more intelligent than his Idalosian brethren). “I need you to be the model for my newest sculptures that I will gift to Faith in Zi'da. I know that I have this eidetic memory because of Vri, but I can’t use my memory if there are certain details that I’ve never paid attention to before. Please? Can you help me? I know that Faith tried to bathe you once, but it would mean a lot to me. I’ll give you the best salmon in Melrath if you agree”, he added upon noticing how Mistral started to move his tail back and forth, as if he was very unhappy.
A moment later, he walked over to him, stroke him, picked him up and carried him into his studio where he set him down on a chair because Mistral might be more compliant if he did not only get salmon when they were done, but also got to lounge on something that resembled a throne. Kind of. A little bit. Mistral was one of the most arrogant cats ever!
~~~
Another eternity passed (Tristan actually wasn’t sure if eternities were an acceptable time unit; he didn’t know of any better way to describe the circumstances at hand though) before his work was mostly done. Four cat sculptures, a family with two kittens, sat on the table in front of him, with fur that looked soft and fluffy even though they were made of stone (which was the result of hard and meticulous work and using tiny, tiny chisels).
Tristan wiped the sweat from his brow again before he polished the sculptures a bit, opened a small silver metal box and removed a couple of round stones from it, polished amber, that he inserted into small holes in the heads of the cats – they were the eyes.
Contrary to popular belief, this was not the last step though. The cats had eyes now, but he wanted to make Faith smile and amaze her. This was not good enough yet. He grabbed the smallest chisel that he had and went to work once more, creating tiny openings on the undersides of the sculptures. A couple of arcs earlier, he had developed a special technique that enabled him to create sculptures that produced sounds.
He had never figured out why his technique worked. He had just experimented and experimented until something extraordinary had happened all of a sudden. Padraig, who was a masterful physicist, would probably now, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask him, despite the fact that they had gotten along well during their last meeting. He didn’t need to know how his special technique worked, anyway. It was enough that it worked.
If the wind touched the sculptures a certain way (or you blow really hard at them), they would start to produce a sound that almost resembled a meow of sorts. He wondered what Faith would think of that!
Once all of the sculptures were finished, he put them into a box – and then he grabbed a vial from a nearby shelf and put it into the box as well. A couple of arcs earlier, he had invented a potion that enabled you to talk to cats. It would compliment the sculptures very well, and who knew, maybe Faith found herself in a situation where she needed or wanted to talk to cats one trial?
He had just wrapped the box with a nice paper and put a golden ribbon around it when he heard Mistral meow loudly. He turned around, smiled at him and told him, “I haven’t forgotten about you. You were very helpful, Mistral. You’ll get your salmon now. And afterwards, we’ll play together if you want to!”
What did you give a woman that already had everything? What kind of gift would ever be good enough for a woman that was richer and more famous than most other people in the world of Idalos, that had stopped a war and become the champion of Immortal? Tristan had been mulling over that question since Saoire’s visit a couple of trials earlier, and he was still none the wiser. The woman that he would be exchanging gifts with probably already had an entire room full of magic items – no, she probably had an entire house that was filled with magic items (that she used to help those that were in need).
He doubted that any of his paintings, his plays or his alchemical creations would be good enough. He was just sitting in his living room, a cup of delicious hot chocolate on the table in front of him (because he didn’t enjoy worrying very much, and hot chocolate made doing such at least a little less unpleasant) and leafing through his books, waiting for inspiration to strike him when he realized something, something that he should have kept in mind all along. Faith was not only one of the most famous women in the world, if not the most famous one, she was also one of his closest friends.
Faith was not only the Champion of Famula who had stopped Ellasin, ended a war, led the Order of the Adunih and become the Chancellor of her very own university, she was so much more. She had been his slave once, she had threatened his brother Teddy with a brush, and they had fought the shadow monsters together. They had laughed and cried together, and they had had a picnic in the crow’s nest during a boat trip to Ne’haer. He had loved her once, but he had freed her when she had asked him to. She had married her tutor – which was something that he did not mind anymore, for he would never have met his Ashling otherwise. And besides, he was happy that she was happy.
Perhaps, he could …
A loud meow pulled him out of his thoughts abruptly, and he watched as his cat Mistral that was actually a resident of the Misty Miasma that had gotten lost in Idalos jumped onto the table as if he was getting impatient. A moment later, his eyes suddenly lit up. He had felt a little inadequate before, and he had been at a loss, but there was no reason for him to feel inadequate. He was an amazing artist, and he had the perfect idea now. And besides, a Zi’da gift was about more than just being expensive and impressing people. It was a way to show someone that you cared, and that you knew them and understood them.
It should make them smile.
His gift would be personal (although a part of him hoped that it would impress Faith, nevertheless; he realized that she had actually never seen that particular invention of his in action before). With that thought in mind, he finished his hot chocolate and went into his studio, much to the chagrin of Mistral who wanted Tristan to focus on him. Mistral always wanted to be the center of attention, no matter what!
~~~
A few bits later, Tristan, who was dressed in a sky-blue tunic, Melrathi style, and a pair of matching pants, among other things, stood in front of his table, wearing goggles and gloves (because he was not very fond of pieces of stone landing in his eyes or accidentally stabbing himself with a chisel). In front of him were four small lumps of white stone and a number of hammers and chisels in different sizes (as well as several other tools that a sculptor commonly needed).
He grabbed the biggest chisel and a hammer and went to work on the first lump of stone, hitting the back of said chisel with a hammer repeatedly until the lump of stone started to resemble … well, at this stage, it didn’t resemble anything in particular because he was working on the general shape before he took care of the details. It did kind of look like something that might have four legs when it was done though.
Sculpting was a time-consuming and exhausting art. It took a certain amount of strength which was why Tristan took a break after a while, took a seat, wiped his brow, drank a bit and closed his eyes for a moment before he continued with renewed determination – because Faith deserved the best and most amazing gift that she could possibly get!
After what seemed like an eternity, he had finally hewn all four stones (two bigger stones and two smaller stones) into a rough shape. It was then that he realized that there might be a problem. He was an excellent sculptor, an absolutely extraordinary sculptor in fact, and he had a perfect memory thanks to Vri’s Blessing, but it would still be better to use a model. There might be some details that he had never paid attention to before.
So, without further ado, he went into the living room – only to find out that his prospective model was gone. He went into his bedroom next, and finally into the kitchen where Hannah, one of his servants, was making dinner. He found Mistral there, lounging in a box that had once been filled with various supplies, looking quite haughty, as if the simple cardboard box was actually a luxurious bed that was worth thousands of nels.
“You need to help me out, please, Mistral”, he told the cat in a friendly tone of voice, as if said cat, a black cat with sulfur-yellow eyes could actually understand him (which he might; as a former resident of the Misty Miasma, he was more intelligent than his Idalosian brethren). “I need you to be the model for my newest sculptures that I will gift to Faith in Zi'da. I know that I have this eidetic memory because of Vri, but I can’t use my memory if there are certain details that I’ve never paid attention to before. Please? Can you help me? I know that Faith tried to bathe you once, but it would mean a lot to me. I’ll give you the best salmon in Melrath if you agree”, he added upon noticing how Mistral started to move his tail back and forth, as if he was very unhappy.
A moment later, he walked over to him, stroke him, picked him up and carried him into his studio where he set him down on a chair because Mistral might be more compliant if he did not only get salmon when they were done, but also got to lounge on something that resembled a throne. Kind of. A little bit. Mistral was one of the most arrogant cats ever!
~~~
Another eternity passed (Tristan actually wasn’t sure if eternities were an acceptable time unit; he didn’t know of any better way to describe the circumstances at hand though) before his work was mostly done. Four cat sculptures, a family with two kittens, sat on the table in front of him, with fur that looked soft and fluffy even though they were made of stone (which was the result of hard and meticulous work and using tiny, tiny chisels).
Tristan wiped the sweat from his brow again before he polished the sculptures a bit, opened a small silver metal box and removed a couple of round stones from it, polished amber, that he inserted into small holes in the heads of the cats – they were the eyes.
Contrary to popular belief, this was not the last step though. The cats had eyes now, but he wanted to make Faith smile and amaze her. This was not good enough yet. He grabbed the smallest chisel that he had and went to work once more, creating tiny openings on the undersides of the sculptures. A couple of arcs earlier, he had developed a special technique that enabled him to create sculptures that produced sounds.
He had never figured out why his technique worked. He had just experimented and experimented until something extraordinary had happened all of a sudden. Padraig, who was a masterful physicist, would probably now, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask him, despite the fact that they had gotten along well during their last meeting. He didn’t need to know how his special technique worked, anyway. It was enough that it worked.
If the wind touched the sculptures a certain way (or you blow really hard at them), they would start to produce a sound that almost resembled a meow of sorts. He wondered what Faith would think of that!
Once all of the sculptures were finished, he put them into a box – and then he grabbed a vial from a nearby shelf and put it into the box as well. A couple of arcs earlier, he had invented a potion that enabled you to talk to cats. It would compliment the sculptures very well, and who knew, maybe Faith found herself in a situation where she needed or wanted to talk to cats one trial?
He had just wrapped the box with a nice paper and put a golden ribbon around it when he heard Mistral meow loudly. He turned around, smiled at him and told him, “I haven’t forgotten about you. You were very helpful, Mistral. You’ll get your salmon now. And afterwards, we’ll play together if you want to!”
