Garden Lectures Under the Sun

The Lower Alexandrian Gardens, midday

It's a beautiful, if hot, day in Alexandria. People go about their business swiftly, dressed in light clothing, broad hats, and parasols to fend off the blazing sun. Still... it's necessary, for crops and people, for the sun to shine down so brightly. In the Gardens, there are gardeners... and teachers.

Dressed in a sand-colored cotton tunic over linen trousers and dark boots, Telamon is speaking to a small group of University students. A quiz on herbs and flowers used in alchemy. He seems pleased with how it's going so far, nodding at each answer. His voice is cheerful. "Well, it seems you were paying attention to the lecture last week. Well done." He claps his hands together.

Despite the heat, Aeson finds himself walking out into the gardens from the direction of the Soldier's defense. A book is tucked under his right arm as he walks with hands buried deep in the pockets of his pants. He's a bit hunched as if a weight is carried as he mutters to himself. Something or another about supplies and astringents. Unlike how Telamon had seen him before, a pair of thin wired glasses sit upon his nose obscuring his eyes because of the reflection of the sun.

It's the clap and words that cause Aeson to notice the half-elf, his head rising as he takes his book from under his arm, and meanders that way. A distance is kept from the crowd of students, taking a moment to listen in on the end of the supplemental lecture, finding a smile despite his dour expression from before.

Mikilos glances up at the clap, peering around vaugely. The wizard had been getting his regular excersize, wandering aimlessly while reading. Get's him out of the library, but does bring him to the occasional odd location. Nodding politely to the students who make eye contact, Mikilos tucks his reading away into his belt pouch.

One wouldn't think the dapper half-elf would make a good teacher, but... he does seem to hold his students' attention. His dark eyes sparkle with good humor, as he sweeps the assembled neophytes. "Well, you're in luck. No quiz next week, just the paper on the four alchemical operations. We'll be doing the laboratory exercise in two weeks, so make sure your kits are ready." With that, he dismisses the younger students, his gaze turning to Aeson and Mikilos.

"Temperance Aeson. Archmage Mithralla," he says politely. "I presume you're not here to enroll someone in the alchemy course." He reaches into his haversack, withdrawing a metal flask. "What's on your minds?"

"At present? Policy and procedure behind the amount of antiseptic and supplies needed to guarantee a fortnight of running a clinic." Aeson says with a wry grin. "Budgeting concerns." he offers as if to explain what he's been doing.

"As for business with you, Master Telamon? I have a tomes worth of questions, but catching you in your element was well worth watching without interruption." his shoulders raised and squared as a glance is spared for Mikilos. "Greetings." he calls forth, the book in his hand just held at his side for now.

"And I'd prefer you not use such titles when addressing me, Sir. Many who know me, know I prefer to be called Doc." The surgeon says without upset. "Temperance I may be called, but my soul doesn't resonate with that word. It is too holy. Too formal for the demographic I deal with."

Mikilos waves vaugely. "That rather depends on the course. That new fangled cold distillation process that's been going around I wouldn't mind learning more about. But no, just happened to be passing thru. How are you, Telamon?" He nods to Aeson as well. "Doc? As you will."

"Doc it is, then." Telamon nods agreeably to Aeson, before he hmms at Mikilos's words. "I'd want to know more before I committed to anything. There's a lot of tinctures and distillations that only precipitate well under heat." The half-sil uncaps his flask, and takes a sip from it.

"Life endures. I find it entertainingly crowded and complex. The garden is blooming, the pixies continue to ask ridiculous questions -- when they're not ogling men at the Colosseum -- and my lovely wife has been borrowed for the day by her cousin for some shopping."

"Alchemy is not something I am well versed in. Measurements and mixing medicinals is the extent of my knowledge." Aeson offers in return to the two's discussion. He shifts, taking his book and flipping it open to where it's cloth bookmark lays. "That reminds me. I need more sterile water, and mixing agents to add to the list." he muses, scribbling with a wrapped stick that serves as a pencil.

"Life does endure. It is a gift to behold, but the matter of our dreams, and the reality of things we face is what I'd like to talk to you of in time." Aeson says in a directed way to Telamon. "Thought he matters can wait if they must." a dart of his eyes falling to Mikilos. "I often get preoccupied with thoughts and duties, which... can lead me to never enjoying the now." looking about the garden's with a sigh. "Beauty is all around us, but at times all I find myself focusing on is the darkness that hides among it."

Mikilos chuckles. "Pixie ogling? Could make for interesting advertising, not every colosseum offers that sort of attention. But yes, cold distillation would certainly not be a process for every tincture, but could see it useful in many situations. Depending on side effects and effort required, of course." He nods seriously to Aeson. "Few too many who choose to pretend darkness doesn't exist, espically if it isn't affecting them. But I agree, important to take in the light and beauty as well."

"Absolutely. You have to find time to stop and... heh. Smell the flowers." Telamon's fingertips brush a flowerbush lightly, as he regards Aeson sympathetically. "Don't let the weight of the world drag you down. If you can't set the burdens aside, -ask for help-. Better that than to collapse under the burdens."

He snorts. "That being said... yes. Supposedly they've found devotion to Angoron, but I think that's just an excuse. Garden pixies don't need much motivation to stare at 'hunky boys'." The last is delivered with a roll of his eyes. "Ah well. They're harmless, beyond the occasional theological argument."

"I know nothing of the fey, but if they find it appealing?" Aeson says with a shrug, but only after Telamon's words had caused his body to flinch. Something the half-elf had said seemed to sting the man, but not in anger. His comment on fey deflecting it. To Mikilos he answers. "I enjoy things when I can, and your words are true."

"It is wise to share the burdens, but... I cannot. Some burdens are mine alone. The weight of houses are heavy, but those born into them must carry the name even. Even if the house has fallen." The surgeon offers, closing his book with his writing tool, and shoving it into a pocket. "The Oldest One shows trust. Trust in me... and trust on you." again pointedly talking to Telamon. "So what I can share, I will."

"Now let's not talk about me any longer. I am okay. I live. I work." Aeson's smile not quite finding his eyes, though the blue is hard to see through his glasses and the glinting sun. "Back to these fey. Do many reside within the city? I've not noticed any, but then... I wasn't looking."

Mikilos nods seriously to Aeson. "Sadly familiar with the burden of fallen houses. Even if there is another to pass the burden on to, is the knowledge you passed what was yours, to someone who might not be ready. Anyway, other things, fey. I... wouldn't say 'many' are in the city? Are spots where they can be found, but think them more likely in wildlands. But I've been surprised a time or two, so mayhaps are more common than I think."

Telamon looks at Aeson, but shakes his head. "I don't accept that. But I also won't force the issue. If there comes a day when you want help... please don't be afraid to ask for it."

That settled, he tucks his hands behind his back. "Fey do not normally involve themselves in the doings of mortals. There are exceptions: domovoi, for example, occasionally pop up, and then there's Caanan O'Winter; he visits Alexandria every winter, and he's a leprechaun." He strokes his chin. "The pixies, though... they were drawn to my wife, who has a trace of fey heritage. It doesn't hurt that we've handled interactions with fey before, with minimal issues."

He pauses. "Oh. That reminds me, Aeson..." He looks the man up and down. "Stick to the trails and roads if you pass through the forests near Alexandria. There are dryads there, and while they won't hurt you, they might decide you need some company."

"I doubt even a dryad would find me fit company. I'd bore them with talk of stitch techniques and wound care." Aeson muses, though something Telamon says to him causes his glance to linger. "You don't have to accept it. I am okay with that. I'm allowed to be wrong, but until then... thank you." an awkward bit of gratitude, but it's there.

"Canvas told me of you and your wife, and I find she is not wrong." The surgeon says with a grin, then looking to Mikilos. "I am used to doing things alone. I don't make friends well, and I don't understand at which point people become friends. So often I just keep to myself." a weak shrug offered. "If I ever reach that point with anyone, I'd wish they would be blunt and tell me." a half-joke, but there is something still serious in his words. "I am often absent because of my calling, and now being an adventurer? More so."

Mikilos blinks at Telamon. "I've run across dryads before, but never particularly close to the city. I'd think bandits more likely, those even those aren't common in short travel. Out in the mountains or deep woods, of course, anything is possible."

He nods again to Aeson. "Not the most social myself, and agree, what one calls a friend, another might consider an aquaientce. Every person is different, so makes since that a relation between any two people is equally unique."

Telamon nods, and grins at Mikilos. "It was one of the first diplomatic things I ever had to handle when I came here. The dryads, ah... really like the farmboys. And while they're benign, I had to explain that those lads are -needed- on the farms." He looks wry. "The best I could do is get them to agree to not borrow them for more than a week-end."

He chuckles. "If only all our problems were so pedestrian. Canvas? Ah, Simony! Yes, she's been a good and true friend to me, and I'm proud to know her. I've found her advice quite good, and we've discussed a number of things over tea and snacks."

"She is the one who mentioned the other artificer that could be involved with our case." Aeson mentions of the goblin. "I find Temperance Simony to be everything I am not in regards to our positions. She is kind, and wise." talking of the woman with a warmth. "Her condition fascinates me, and even without it I am sure she'd be special. I hate to think of the hardships she faced to find her path because of it." he questions, shrugging between the two.

"From everything you've said, the fey ogling and taking. Are you so sure they're not into the hunks and muscle?" musing as his stiff stance wanes. "All I know is when they meddle in the affairs of our world, mischief ensues."

Mikilos nods to Telamon. "I've found it useful to casually use an iron tool. The average dryad finds such offputting. Fae in general, typically. Of course are those who find such an act threatening, but that's it's own mess." He nods to Aeson's words. "Frequently true when any two worlds interact. Though some crossings go far beyond mere mischief. Demons, of course, being the primary example."

"As always, it depends on the fey in question. Pixies, dryads, leprechauns -- they typically content themselves with mischief, rarely more. Should you find yourself facing one of the native-born of Quelynos, well... don't thank them, don't give them your name, and don't accept any gifts. Name-theft is not unheard of."

Telamon's voice is confident, borne of experience, as he continues, "Condition-- ah, her albinism. She seems unfazed by it these days -- wears a broad-brimmed hat and is careful during the summer months. Whatever hardships she's endured, they've forged her into a good friend and a champion of the world." He snorts. "She told me once about defending a Navosian monastery from fiends. For someone three feet tall, sometimes she stands like she's -thirty- feet tall."

"She gives that impression!" Aeson laughs, raising a hand to point at Telamon. "Her strength is apparent in how she carries herself. I can only hope to one day be half the person she is." grinning wide with a shift of his feet, tucking his hands back into the pocket of his pants. "I should take her to tea someplace shaded, and talk to her more than of work and history."

"I can't imagine what she'd appear like to friends. A smidge of light in darkness she is."

"The more we speak of fey, the more I feel I need to stay out of such matters. Though, if they want to take a name... they might not like what mine comes with. Responsibility doesn't sound like their choice of drink." Aeson says to the two, looking at Mikilos with a raised brow. "Iron? Oh, is that something the fey dislike? I admit, my education is far into other things. The fey are a mystery to me."

Mikilos nods. "Anything manufactured is not of the wild, though most will cheerfully make an exception for food and drink. Iron tends to be a hard line, and cold iron in particular. I've had... more experience with Fae than I can really recall. Though as has been said, each is unique, so my personal experiences may be nothing like someones in what would appear a similar situation."

Telamon nods. "Cold iron is... the weapon of choice, but understand that many fey will take it poorly if they sense it on you. If you want to approach them diplomatically, tuck it away in an extradimensional pocket or leave it at home." He offers Aeson a smile. "Well, my experience has been if you don't know enough about something, you should avoid it till you -do- know something. So your inclination isn't a bad idea."

"I kind of had to get the crash course on fey since my wife's lineage, well... we find ourselves dealing with fey regularly. I like to joke that only I could come to Alexandria and wind up marrying a fey princess, but such is life as an adventurer. It will take you down some very unusual roads indeed."

"Like a book of fables. I see why Simony holds you in such high regard." Aeson's contemplative tone coming with a sound of thought. "You uplift others, and think of more than your self. I understand it now." surprise and intrigue, though his stance shifts as he turns sideways to the two. "She found a good friend and trusted colleague. I see why The Oldest One called me to help, and follow you."

"Perhaps we can meet and discuss things with blunt honesty about our case. I have been holding my thoughts back, and acting on some things in secret. Mostly because I felt you and the others would not understand. Perhaps... perhaps I was wrong." his smile small, but his words carrying his hope and warmth. "Perhaps I should truth more. At least here. So, if you'd like. Can you find time, Master Telamon?"

Mikilos nods to Telamon, then flinches as an idea strikes. "...I could be wed to Endless Winter and not even know." The wizard considers a few moments. "I suppose most anything is possible in lost time, really. I doubt anything serious happened, between Selina, Kol, and Eclavdran, someone would have mentioned anything note worthy. Still, a frightening possibility."

Telamon laughs softly. "Me? I am merely a diplomat's son who has ascended to dizzying heights. But that doesn't stop me from trying to find the best path." He nods to Aeson. "Please, call me Tel. Any friend of Simony's is a friend of mine."

His eyes turn to Mikilos, and one eyebrow rises. "Having met the Endless Winter... nah. I think she has other tastes. And for now, she is happy with her own little corner of reality, provided we don't trespass." He starts to add something, then pauses, tilting his head curiously. As if hearing something. "Hm. Well, gentlemen, it's been a pleasure, but my wife calls to me, and I am nothing if not dutiful. Do visit when you get the chance, Aeson -- if you need directions to my place, Simony knows the way." With that, the half-sil walks off with a jaunty pace, heading out of sight swiftly.