Sir Les Paul
The Duke of Chords
Crafted for the Crafter
Tags:
RedArmyShogun
EmperorsChosen
(for the lulz)
RedArmyShogun
EmperorsChosen
(for the lulz)April 7th, 2067
Having been somewhat surprised by the message, after she checked it out in the later hours of the morning, Maria was quietly at work in her workshop, reflecting at the time he intended to show up and how soon it was, she hurriedly pinged that she was in her workshop in response to his message, so that he would not be searching too much for her.
Reflecting on the contents of the message, there were but every few years a birthday would be celebrated for her, typically with Mirai, though given the longevity of Witches, celebrating every year was seen as foolish, though she got well wishes from the rest of the staff that oversaw her isolation, the fact that most humans routinely had a birthday party or well wishes every year came to be something of a shock. Even now, well, no, it was nice Rand would bother. So as to not make things more difficult for him, she left her workshop and in a rare appearance, waited in the central Lobby of Deaths Hollow.
A simple place to find, at the least. Rand wasn’t exactly sure what to expect from any of his agents outside of the field. Not that he couldn’t look it up, mostly that he couldn’t be bothered. That type of information didn’t appeal to him. He wasn’t exactly off-put by the small, rustic feel of the place, and in any case, it would suffice for his needs.
He let out a simple hm sound as he saw her upon walking in. In social settings, he wasn’t actually the most skilled. He was a very cut and dry individual, and after the events of Dall Island, he had expended what felt like a whole year’s worth of effort and emotion. At least that bared fruit, given what his agents got out of it.
”Birth days aren’t something our kind typically values a lot…” he said, trying to think of anything to say here. He was correct, though. It was more of a human gesture. ”I remember how absurd I thought it was how they were treated when I first got here…” he admitted to her. Aside from his meager attempts at small talk, he seemed like his normal self. Black robes, white sash, headband. The only outstanding feature of him happened to be a tan colored backpack of sorts, or perhaps more akin to a satchel, that was thrown over just one of his shoulders, and it seemed to be fairly full as he held onto it with one hand.
”Mind if we sit?” he asked her flatly.
A little nervous about the whole situation, she was quick to dart into her tool pouch, what she was grabbing, going for, doing, she stopped. Forcing herself to calm her nerves, Maria looked at her instructor, was this how he normally dressed? Well, no, this was normal for him, just as her dress was for her, looking at the backpack, or rather satchel on his back, she was curious, holding a hand out to him, she motions to the cushioned sofas and chairs that dotted the lobby. ”Of course ins…no. Of course Rand. I would take you to the workshop for some tea, but you seem busy, or rather likely are, I… Thank you for coming.” At least she was trying to not say anything too out of hand this time around.
”I never found myself so busy as I am as a mentor,” he told her, admitting the simple fact. ”I used to have time to research magic and arcana to my heart’s content, blare music for hours on end, sometimes forgetting to eat for half a day… now I can’t go that long without someone summoning me somewhere,” he told her, quite truthfully venting some of the more frustrating parts of his role.
”You are welcome, Maria. Even if this isn’t our normal custom, it is one for the DWMA. I find it important to integrate the gesture. We do have to mesh our cultures to some degree,” he explained, trying his best to explain why he went out of his way to visit her on this specific day out of all three hundred and sixty five of the year.
”I may be wrong, but you seem a little off-put by my visit. You are not in any trouble,” he told her, worrying that she was concerned she had done something wrong.
Listening to his words, the first bits she understood all too well, her health would be even more dire if not for her fitness routine and vitamins. For her diet consisting mostly of sandwiches and whatever was kept in the vending machine or that Nadia would offer her. ”Yes, I understand that problem all too well, or is it that the problem understands me?” She says initially, as he went on to explain why he was here.
She wanted to say something to the gesture as he put it but she waited, it seemed in trying to be less awkward, she had simply made the situation worse. Collecting herself, this time she did take her hand out of the tool pouch, procuring a knife and a small block of wood as she cut and scrapped at the surface, carving who knew what, but it did seem to calm her mind more than attempting to be calm. ”You will outlive me and I will out live nearly all of those I’ve came to met, minus you and the other witches, the idea that humans…well, it's not like we aren’t humans. I am not sure how to feel about it. I…” She stops cutting into the wood for a brief instant.
”I am not off put with your visit, but those such as you coming to see me, with all that has happened, it…” With that she let out one of her awkward and giggly laughs as her expression briefly shifts. ”I feel bad for taking up your time like this, but, it was akin to when my birthday was celebrated inside of the Guild, it isn’t a bad feeling, but it was a rare one that never really happened, as you said to our culture it is alien.”
Rand considered what she said and how she reacted. From what he could gather, her considerations were quite fair. It was a world different. His culture shock, especially being a royal and even more so of the Mabian line, was intense upon entering the DWMA. He recalled quite a few times pranks were pulled on him, much to his chagrin, as he didn’t understand many of the norms. He caught on quickly, and back then, had a vindictive streak. One that he had mostly overcame, but he didn’t allow himself to meander on that thought during this visit.
”I’ve only been in the human world a few years, honestly,” he admitted to her, ”and even then, my biological age is merely in my early twenties. I am still just as young as you are in the grand scheme of things.”
His features did soften here slightly. He wasn’t entirely robotic, just slightly awkward and often missing on social cues. Still, Maria was another Witch–sorceress or not–and that made the gap between them easier to bridge. ”I have come to believe that celebrating life, as humans do, isn’t really such a waste. Our bodies will rotate around the laughing sun hundreds of times more than theirs… yet they seem to enjoy the moments they have more than many of my long-lived cousins do back in the Witch Realm. If somehow these rituals result in an inkling more happiness in the long run, then I can’t imagine how that is a bad thing,” he explained to her, giving her his honest opinion on the subject itself.
”On the note of rituals, it is a tradition to provide you a gift. I have not one, but three,” he told her, taking what he considered to be a smooth transition from one topic to another. ”Don’t consider yourself spoiled here; I originally only wanted to make one… something crafted for the crafter was my idea… but my grandmother had another idea, and when she heard what I was making, even a third. I must admit her ideas were much grander, and I couldn’t allow my ego to shorthand you glee on your day,” he explained to her, though the implication that some of these gifts were essentially from Maba herself was not lost there.
”If you are ready, you can choose which one to see first. My original one, the one from my grandmother offered, or her… improved version of mine,” he told her, still flatly. At heart, he did feel like what his grandmother offered by far outweighed what he made, and that did steal some of his thunder. He couldn’t help it, but nonetheless, was excited to see what she thought.
Listening to his offer, the very thought that the Maba herself would offer her something was awe striking. It honestly silenced her for awhile as she weighed the three choices. To which she looked up at his forehead, or rather what the white wrapping hid. She wanted to hold true to her teachings and that of her Master, who forgoed all titles and trappings. ”...I know you have not cared at times for my artistic demands, they caused problems every so often on Dall Island, even still I would and will make the same arguments again. To be offered anything by the Maba is a great honor, if people would kill you for that eye, then an item personally made by her would invite the same. You have come here and made something with me in mind, to which was also improved upon by your Grandmother.” She then looked at him directly in the eyes and spoke with what had been an uncharacteristically, certain and direct acceptance.
“Even should it be inferior by your own remarks, I would first have what you made. For it is not the use of what a craftsman item determines its worth, but rather the feelings and intentions put into them. The rest I can accept when I am worthy of them. For now I wish to understand your well wishes through your own works Rand. If the Maba is angered by this answer, then I will beg her forgiveness, but I know you and this is from your own intentions.”
Rand considered what she said. There was some merit to the idea that an item crafted by Maba held value, but he was somewhat doubtful that what she had made in this case would be of considerable use to anyone other than Maria. As for the other gift… that had value. That had value across the world. That had value to even the likes of Davis. She wasn’t wrong in that regard.
He sighed, considering what to do here. He could ruin the surprise, but that went against the spirit of the day. He would have to think of another way.
”My grandmother wouldn’t be angry. What I have was given to me in good faith,” he explained to her, ”but, before you do decline it, one of the gifts, I could… or I will. I will tell you that your mentor had requested it many years ago and was denied. My understanding is that secrets were held in higher regard then, and information itself was not easily shared. The item would not just be of great value to you, but to your mentor; that is why I think she thought of it as a gift.”
Rand gingerly slid the bag off his shoulder, then heaved it up to the table. It did, from this angle, clearly seem more like a satchel he had elected to simply carry oddly. Despite that fact, when he unclasped its enclosures, he did so in a way that at the very least prevented Maria from seeing what else was inside. What he pulled out was a device of his own creation. Woven from magical threads and already attuned to the personal mana of Maria, this item was obviously very carefully crafted specifically to her.
At first, it would appear to be an amalgamation of leather straps forming some type of simplistic harness, all with stitchwork not unlike her own. He unfurled it onto the table to show it better, and once apart, it truly was a simple, lightweight item. Its straps resembled a heavy backpack of sorts and upon its back were simple dowels of dark stained wood in the form of spools. If not teeming with mana, it might have seemed like an odd fashion statement more than anything.
”Having watched you fight and control your dolls in battle, I noticed a downside to how you fight. Your hands are in constant use with your threads,” he explained to her, ”so, I recreated the spell you use to control your dolls, and created these spools that can generate that same thread. It will still take your mana, and you can only create four at a time, but if you wear it, it will free your hands. I don’t know if the idea had occurred to you before, and it’s not exactly easy to make… It took some creative applications of some texts from ancient China. But, it should allow you much more freedom, if you don’t find it an affront to your puppetry.”
As she listened to him and looked at the item, and heard tell in a way that her master had something to do with this, she just laughed. Not as if she were laughing at his gift but about the words she had just said. ”It is very much in form for it to be something utilitarian. And for me to be the Artistic one.” She decided to accept it, holding her hands out, placing the knife and the carving block down upon her lap. Though she would explain the sudden change of reasoning.
With what he first had to say, Maria laughed, an amused chuckle, the story of which would come after, for now her focus was upon the pack, listening to his words, the craftsmanship was a little rough by her own standards, but the mana coming from it and the details on functionality, she was impressed, overall. Reaching out to grab it, she took hold of it and fiddled with the various components, nodding her head. “I may alter it a little to blend in with what I wear, but it is very utilitarian, though I cannot deny it’s function, and being able to free up my hands for other tasks would be nice… Hmm, reminds me, I had things to run across the Lab, I do not think my ideas can be made reality before the next mission starts however. I could also use this with my normal skills for a wider range of control or minions…” As if to remember her laugh, Maria looked as if suddenly shocked.
”Oh! Ah the laugh, it was not to you or this, but why my Master… No, I need to remind myself I am now something more than a child… My mentor, while it is tempting to give her such a thing, she prefers to learn for herself, handing her something I had not earned would only disappoint her. Thank you Rand, I just need to think how I wish to integrate this into my own things.”
”I am a scholar at heart,” he told her, not offended by her comments. ”I would not expect my work to compare to yours in quality, but the knowledge behind it… that was the real gift, I suppose,” he explained. It was true that it was, at best, a little rough. With all of his skills, creativity itself was not at the forefront of his mind. He had no consideration as to embellishing the leather or the spools, only making sure the engravings were perfect. The magical traces that ran through it suited specifically to Maria and her personal mana. The spellwork behind it executing reliably. Had he more time, perhaps he might have focused on the finer details, but her birthday was just barely a week out from when he had devised the idea.
”I should clarify… there are two more gifts in this satchel for you–and they are for you. I’m sure one is such that even Mirai would be envious of, but it would be yours. The other is one that compliments the one you have just seen,” he explained to her, doing his best to make sure she was quite aware of the situation.
”I can take them back or hold on to them… I could simply give you this satchel and let you decide in your own time,” he offered her, not quick to allow her to pass up the opportunity for these, though avoiding delving into the realms of imposing on her.
”A suggestion, if I may,” he told her, now thinking he could at the very least plant the seedling of this idea in her head, ”you may want to see what they first, then decide what you wish I do with them.”
“Three…, oh my, here I was thinking I could only have one of them, now I do feel spoiled… Er, I’ll take them, but..” Getting her nerves together, she nods her head. ”Very well, I’ll see what they are then decide.”
Rand nodded, then elected to pull out another item from the satchel. It was difficult enough to get her to this point, it seemed. Perhaps Mirai instilled some deep humility in her, or the idea of gifts was still too foreign, but that was not the purpose of this endeavor. Besides, Rand intended to do this for all of his agents. Ark, Raph, Chant–when the time came, he would gift them all something.
The next item was a stark contrast to the first. For various reasons. It was a holstered blade, somewhere in the range of fourteen inches–so hardly a knife, but still quite short for a sword. It was surrounded in a sheath fit specifically for it, as the black leather that surrounded it matched the grip on the handle. The entire design was simple, yet elegant. It’s simplicity was quite deceptive in nature, as the smallest of flares from its curved guard that was perfectly fitted to a transitional piece of some type of silverish metal in such a way that nearly no seam could be seen. It was designed, despite its length, for a smaller hand such as hers, and its grip reflected that with a slight contoured bulge just where her fingers would rest when gripping it, slimming down ever so slightly for her palm before widening again. It had no pommel, or at least, not one of a traditional construction. Instead, its end was curled over, creating a rounded cup similar to a skull-splitter, although it was done in sections to resemble that of plain petals for a flower.
Rand withdrew it from its sheath, revealing that it was not mere leather, but a dark wood covered in it, fit perfectly to the shape of the blade with another silver guard at its base, common to prevent damage to the fine wood or leather. The deceptively simple design was present here again as it had a ricasso blended into the base of the blade seemingly by design. Though, it was mostly unnecessary as the blade itself was quite slender and came to a fine point, most similar to a stiletto with a thinner, almost rapier-like tip. Runes were traced down the length of the blade, each glowing a fairly bright blue, and the mana that radiated from them dwarfed that of even what Rand produced with his own creation. This was clearly not made by the same hands.
”A blade. Neither this nor what I made have a name, but this does have quite the definite purpose,” he told her, his own eyes looking down at the blade. As it looked now, it appeared to be quite dainty. Flimsy. Perhaps something used by an assassin or for ceremony, but not in combat. Yet, that assumption would be wrong to anyone using it.
”It can cut or stab, and won’t break as easily as it may look; more importantly, it will work in conjunction with your threads–so long as you hold onto it.. It is a runeblade and by pouring your mana into it, you can attach a thread to anything you stab. Instead of creating a wound, it will inject your mana. Whether or not you can control what you stab or make use of it in a fight will depend on how strong you personally get, but as you know, it is no small feat to inject your mana into a foreign object or being. It is a feat even I could not muster by force,” he told her before sheathing the blade and placing it on the table in front of her so that she could review it personally.
Studying the knife, or rather the short sword, it seemed rather eloquent, if not expensive. Was this the item the two of them made? Rand and the Maba? It was a little heavy towards the front from what she could visualize, but not definitive enough to disrupt her use of the blade. The problem was it looked far too ornate to be used in a direct conflict… Was it made of Silver? No, something didn’t look quite right. While silver may indeed be the main component of the blade, she suspected it was an alloyed blade, if not for the fine craftsmanship it would be interesting to collect a sample for analysis. Coupled with the wood, or not quite so wooden handle and supports and the runes, it clearly was a Magic weapon, the question of what it did would soon be described by Rand himself.
“Hmm…” Listening to the explanation he gave for the blade, she was sure it would not be useful… ”No… that is not the case at all. while it may have seemed she was talking about the blade at all, she judging by the way her eyes seemed to gloss over, was talking to herself. ”Huh… I don’t think I can take over a being with it, an object more of depending on how close it is to things I can understand intuitively. I do not have blood magic so much as enchanting. The idea of using it to control a person, I was trained and raised very carefully to not do such. However, I do think with this and the backpack I can grow my forces brought to bear considerably, or even progress into my pet project. The problem is now being able to physically move the material. Which is what I was pondering with the lab. This gift may take some thought and time to make use of.
It is a lovely piece, but I’m afraid I must dirty and wear it with use. Thank you instru… no, thank you Rand.”
”I would save your gratitude for the final gift,” he told her, listening to her yet again thank him when there was still yet more to come. He smiled at her, though faintly. He rarely had strong, outward expressions of emotion.
”How you choose to use your gifts is entirely up to you, and that is something that you should consider with this final one… but…” he went on, though stopping as he collected his thoughts as to how to explain what that knife specifically did, ”...I can explain how it works, I just can’t make one myself. Mana you channel into the handle will be sent to the blade and the runes will turn the entire blade ethereal. You need not actually stab something, just graze or cut it, and it will inject your mana at that location like an anchor. The deeper you do stab, the deeper it is anchored, but otherwise, there is little difference,” he told her, going into just a bit more depth about the blade. She didn’t like the idea of controlling another with it, which was fair, but it certainly had other uses. ”Any magic related to your threads will work, I believe. Creating a living puppet would be absurdly difficult, but using it to bind their movement, or track them, set up traps… or even on an ally to pull them out of harm’s way,” he told her, ”all are options. My grandmother told me that my vision lacked scale when she made this. She told me that knife had more creativity to it than the harness I made for you ever would.”
He reflected on her words. He supposed she was correct. His visit to the Witch Realm, however brief, was quite eventful. In just a few days following their return from Dall Island, he did more in the Witch Realm than many did in years. Maba herself was interested to see what the ley line had to offer, not to mention, some of the surprises they brought back.
”Are you ready for the final gift?” he asked her. ”I believe it will be the one you like best,” he told her, ”and do recall, I’m not much of a hugger.” He joked. It was rare, but the implication that she would like it enough to hug him spurred on one of his rare few attempts at humor. Deadpan though it may be, it wasn’t too difficult to pick up on.
With further explanation of the use of the knife, while her single minded focus had allowed her abilities to expand past that of others, it did also mean she was not given to thinking outside of the box. The idea of using it to ensnare to slow or to trap had not occurred to her. If she could get in close enough it meant she could do more than just make another vector of control. While she would likely never cross the line into control of another, the other possibilities were in agreement with her own ethos.
With his next words and the brief signs of a smile, she was worried about what this gift would be, he had already given her so much, hopefully the rest would get such attention, but even if gifts were given for nothing, this all made her annoyance at the events of Dall Island to fade to the background, she would repay all of this, even if it were not required. In terms of pricing that may always be out of her grasp, but surely she could make something… Either way, that was a thought for later, clearing her mind, she nodded her head vertically to indicate she was ready to see the final gift.
The final item he pulled from his satchel turned out to be a book. Leather bound, but brand new-looking. A dark, thick cowhide stretched across a pristine surface with Witch Text inscribed all around it, the spine of the book marked not with runes but with that same witch text, and a single blue stone in its center surrounded by some type of darkened brass fittings that both extended to the top and bottom of the spine and to a latch over the opening of the book. From this angle, it was hardly recognizable.
”This is just a copy… but it is a copy from the Mabian library. The Index Magica Fragmenta. Well, one volume of it. This one is dedicated to magical substances found in the Earth realm,” he told her, again, picking it up and setting it down in front of her. The latch itself was not actually locked, simply requiring pressing down on two clicking mechanisms to spring open. The entire book itself had an air of mana about it; it was clearly a magical item in and of itself. In fact, the reality might have started to settle in that the satchel he used somehow obfuscated all of these clearly magical items, implying it might not be so run-of-the-mill itself.
”Open it and you will find entries dating back thousands of years to what witchkind has found and collected. In the wars of the Witch Realm, information was often taken by the victor, and books like these contain all of the spoils that Maba collected during those times,” he explained to her, more so emphasizing how it contained entries from a vast array of cultures and even long-dead family lines of the Witch Realm.
”If you would open it to page IV, two pages after the index, I can explain to you the true value of this book,” he instructed her for the first time, wanting to show her precisely how this one worked and more so why he found she might find it the best of the lot.
With her scant time in the guild among others and her attention to her craft, Maria had caught glimpses or even a brief look at other such copies, often kept in restricted areas or only what the most highly ranked or trusted of witches were allowed to see, nevermind to touch or to read, and even then it was just as Mirai had business in there and wanted to take her prodigy along for the ride, with strict instructions to not touch anything. The original copies of these works were just things one never seen, minus Rand here with some exceptions. She did not respond at all, it was akin to watching a hamster wheel suddenly stop, her eyes widened and her jaw was a little slack as she pondered how best to deal with this, or how to respond at all, as the words faintly hit her.
She was not even sure to follow those words, but did so mechanically, her hands shaking a bit, as she stood to her feet, grabbing the book, she paced inbetween where he sat and where she up till now had been seated, opening the book as he said and turning to the requested section.
The page she opened to was a simple one. A large circle surrounded by witch text on one side, blank inside the circle, and a blank page to its right. Rand then delved his hand down into his pocket and pulled out a simple twig. A large twig, but a simple one. A wood Maria would be familiar with–a type of willow that worked quite well for channeling mana. Soft and flexible, so it had its uses, but they were few and far between.
Rand plopped the twig down onto the page and as soon as it hit the inside of the circle, the black ink began to glow blue and soon enough, witch text began to fill the blank page on the right. The entire book was written in witch text, or at least was for now–many entries would be written in the native tongue of their author–but this index was their universal language. There, it identified the species of wood and a few other unique characteristics such as its magical conductivity and quality. Then, a page number. That was the important part.
”That is the power of the Index. Any magical material you can fit onto the page will be identified if the book has an entry on it. It will be graded, as materials vary from specimen to specimen, and then page numbers listed for related entries. Some overlap, some materials are so deeply related that it may send you to their page as well. There are even some magitech entries since Davis has added to the book,” he explained to her, going into a fair amount of detail about this mechanic. ”Put a rock on there with no special properties, nothing happens. Put a rock on there with three or four trace minerals that are useful and it will identify them all,” he told her, still going into detail about the function of this book.
”That piece of willow has nearly eighty entries despite being such a simple material… that is because this book references every article ever written by a Witch studying it. Many overlap, some may be inaccurate, but you’ll be at no loss for information,” he told her, knowing full well that this book could result in information overload. Each substance had a main entry, but all others were kept as sources. Most of the time, the main entry was sufficient, but the archivists of the Witch Realm had a penchant for preserving every ounce of information they could, no matter how trivial.
In one of a few rare instances, as she did as she was told, the normally perfect doll face with the outlines of a smile seemed to waver, unknown or perhaps known via other means, her heart was racing, nearly equal with her thoughts as a wide arrange of possibilities struck her, long had she made do with the elements on hand, of experimenting and finding the right materials she needed. This book opened all sorts of doors, and while she would still need to test materials and confirm or disavow information recorded within, this could allow her to one day write a book of her own with all the findings or possibilities of expansion.
This could not be considered just a gift, but that is what he stated it to be. Crossed up in her emotions she sat the book down on the table that originally was between them. He had said to not give him a hug, so Maria decided to do something else, while a lip kiss would be looked at poorly, she instead gave him a kiss on both cheeks, moving in lightning fast, curiously a couple drops of water that were not there previously would dot his clothing or hand, she was likely crying, though she did not seem sad or mad from the brief instance he would catch a glimpse of her, her face was also significantly red.
”I…I will keep the book, i-if you will trust me with it, I’ll put it to use in my research, Mirai asked me to be a bridge between the Guild and DWMA… This gift is too much and I’m not sure how to feel about it… You said I couldn’t hug you, so…”
Rand turned bright red. It wasn’t necessarily a look of fear or disgust that crossed his face, but something crept across his pallid skin that was entirely new to him. It was true, he wasn’t one much for hugging, but that in general was because he did not like to be touched. He wasn’t about to point that out at the moment as the gesture itself had him speechless. No matter how red her face was, his most assuredly was entire shades darker.
He didn’t have a response and he wouldn’t for some time after she mentioned the hug, or the DWMA, or anything else. His brain needed a moment to catch up with his body. What he felt and what he thought might as well have been on two different planes of existence. His physical response, or his most instinctual one, wasn’t one of displeasure, but quite the opposite. Even a minor display of affection or gratitude such as that was something he truly hadn’t experienced. His brain went to places of how inappropriate it was given he was her mentor. That was his first thought. The implications of his family line would only come far after.
Despite the gap between what he felt and thought, he would eventually return back to reality. ”Uh-Uh… yeah… my grandmother. Sh-She said that once Mirai saw that and, uhm, you told her it was from m-from her on your birthday, it would.. Mean a lot more. She said Mirai would get it. Something about how… Witch culture is changing..” he told her, stumbling over what excuse he could come up for as an answer while he was entirely frazzled.
He then thought about it a moment. She brought up the hug and given her little pecks, he rationalized that she had some intention on showing him gratitude that way. The rational part of his brain told him it was her birthday, the instinctual side told him it might not be a bad feeling… this time.
”I-If you want a hug, Maria… I guess it is your birthday,” he sheepishly told her, offering really in the only way he could muster.
With the subject of her Mentor brought up, she seems to cool down and calm back towards her normal personification, hearing the details behind why the Maba had wished to give her this. It all made sense and to give it to Mirai would be just a waste. It would also be against the spirit of why it was given. Laughing with a chuckle at what he said next, she still keeps her back turned.
”I would do such to Mirai when I was small as she also did not like to be touched, I cannot say I much like it either at times, seemingly in my area, it wasn’t unheard of for close friends or relatives to greet in such a manner or in emotions to be used to thank or greet… Ah I said that… No, I don’t think I will do that, Rand. When another teacher stood up for me and cheered me up, I got carried away with that as well.
I truly thank you from the depths of my soul, while we may not think alike and your disregard for function over form angers me, I now consider you special, the same as Nadia, Dani, Mirai and others aside… I… don’t want to make this more weird than I already have, though I likely will make a couple things for you now. I…hmm…how best to strangle the cat.” A curious expression to be sure, as she paused to think…
“Should you need my help and I am able, you need only ask, and extend my thanks to the Maba as well. Or rather, to your Grandmother, far too many fear her for what she is, than respect her for the who she is.” She thought of also mentioning should another trespass against him, just as Raph had Dani and Nadia, then she would do far worse than the little scare she had done to him. Most people tended to react poorly to that being shared. In place she said;
” Though if your Grandmother ever gets angry at you, I’m afraid I can’t stop her.”
Taking note as she glanced at how dark his gaze had gotten, maybe she should have just given a hug, even against his permission.
An odd type of disappointment welled inside him as she elected not to indulge in the hug offered, but her explanation seemed to dull that. He rationalized it was just a new sensation he was not accustomed to and wrote it off. As she continued to speak, his nerves continued to calm, and her proclamations only further drew him out of that excited–and confused–state he was in. The flush in his face faded quickly.
”There are few that could do much if she was angry… but I don’t believe you need to worry about that,” he told her, rolling off the end of her conversation organically. He considered responding to the rest of what she said. Her promises and reassurance. The alliance she effectively offered him. But, honestly, he wasn’t sure how.
Instead, he stood up and lifted the now-empty satchel he had from the table to sling over his shoulder again, though now much lighter and less awkward to carry. ”Maria, I do value art and the form of things. I love music. I love the instruments that make music. Craftsmanship is not lost on me, it is just… something I am willing to sacrifice in a moment of need,” he told her. He did really wish to clear that point up. He knew she was upset with how he handled the situation on Dall Island, but there were few other choices. Even fewer given what it took for them to succeed where all others had failed.
He sighed, but realized there was a good parallel to bring up here. ”We have long lives, Maria. So long that even the idea of a birthday seems pointless; years just fly by for us,” he told her, ”but sometimes, regardless of our longevity, we don’t have the time to make or do something perfect. We can’t always be our best selves, or produce our best results.”
”I am deeply sorry that my instruction then upset you as it did and made you feel like I do not hold your skill in the value it deserves. It was not my intention and it is regrettable that events unfolded… as they did,” he admitted to her, apologizing quite sincerely for how things went. ”I can’t tell you it won’t happen again. We basically saved a species because I convinced you to cut corners. But, I do want you to know that your work–even when you are not proud of it–is still nothing short of impressive. You may fall short of your standards, but not mine,” he told her, still flatly, but with a tone that conveyed his sincerity in the matter.
”Ha, don’t worry about it… I won’t say I wasn’t mad, or that I won’t be mad in the future, but thanks to you, Witch of a thousand spells, I have learned a great many more things and seen my perfection, my dearest perfection and my creations, that specializing in one thing alone will not help me. And though I’ll be angry even still in the future, I will still do what I must…” Thinking back to Dall Island and his own measure of herself, Maria actually did turn to face him this time.
“It is only good enough when I can no longer move. While I thank you for those words, I still have yet more to do.” It was then that she turned to face him and gave a bow, lifting her skirt a little in curtsy out of manners, her expression was more solid and there was a determination to her words.
“While I cannot say what I will do from here, I will one day make it out of FATE, and I am not so sure that the lab is the only place or even the best place for me. I shall continue with the hopes and dreams that Mirai, You, Lord Death and the Maba have entrusted with me. This has to be one of the happiest times I’ve had in my life, though I’m unsure where to rank it among three others, though one of those is bitter sweet.
And I must show that I shall continue to surpass those expectations till I hit the limits of what I can do and continue past that.
I look forward to the day we can speak as equals rather than as Student and Teacher.” The moment was going too well without one of her little quirks showing through as she tilt her head a little to the side and picked up the book once more, sitting it with the rest of the items. They were all great gifts. Giggling to herself she stopped once more. ”Ah, I should ponder how to integrate the knife and harness now..”
”I am glad to give you a moment such as that,” he told her. He hadn’t realized this would be one of her happiest times, though he did expect a lot of excitement about her gifts. His grandmother truly did overshadow him here, but he couldn’t bring himself to be frustrated by it. He had been overshadowed most of his life.
”This program is just one small step in your story, Maria,” he told her, ”I don’t doubt that there will be a day you look fondly on these days, and me as the just the Witch that taught you when there was still plenty left to learn.”
With that said, Rand gave her a slight nod and decided it was time to take his leave. He still had plenty of things to do for the day; making time for Maria was actually a tough task for him, all things considered. Not that he intended to let her know that; he hoped his visit, however short, was enough for her. ”Just don’t forget to take breaks, Maria,” he told her–instructed her, really. He was back to his stern tone.
”It’ll be as easy to get lost in that book as it is your work, but do try to take care of yourself, too,” he added before turning around to leave the lobby of Deaths Hollow.
Bowing once more as he left, though without the curtsy, she though on his last words. To take breaks. To have been alone for so long, the words that saddened her, when her Master, no, Mirai admitted to making tremendous mistakes with raising her, they started to make sense, and from what was being kept from her in the Kitchen, she was sure now she had friends that would make sure she got those breaks. And she would cherish them all.
Still, there was another thing or two added to her to-do list. ”Do be well… Rand.”
