Testing Synonie

Bryn Myridorn, Padaryn estate, evening

The arrangements had taken a little time to make, but a snowy evening in Vhast finds Daneira Padaryn's residence quiet. An early bedtime for the lady of the house, who has been apprised of the intent of this evening, and a request to the maid to leave tea and a few cookies for Seldan and his expected guest, and little Synonie, of whom he has accepted charge for the evening.

The small parlor holds only the two of them, the former of whom is wearing only shirt, trousers, and robe, and the latter of whom is bouncing up and down excitedly in her dress, _entirely_ too excited to sleep at the prospect of an evening with Cousin Seldan. The servants have been instructed to show Telamon here when he arrives, but otherwise, nobody is going much of anywhere in this weather.

The pair, when Telamon arrives, are talking, Seldan challenging Synonie's memory with bits of religious doctrine. The girl is precocious, but mispronounces a few things and is far from remembering everything.

Soon enough, the door to the parlor is opened by a servant, who coughs politely. "Apologies, Sir Seldan, Synonie. Lord Archmage Lupecyll-Atlon has arrived."

Telamon still has that faintly bemused expression he wears when someone refers to him as a lord or an archmage, let alone both. But he shows no other sign of discomfort, politely nodding to the servant as he steps inside. The elegant half-elf is dressed in a tunic that shifts between blue and violet, depending on the angle you look at it, over dark leather riding trousers and black boots with green and silver designs stitched into them. His hat and cloak left at the door, all he bears is a satchel, as he offers the two a broad smile.

"Her light upon your path, Sir Seldan, Synonie. A pleasure to see the two of you again." His dark eyes sparkle merrily. "I hope your Yule was a happy one."

Seldan looks up at once, and rises at the new entrant. "Thank you, Blayre," he offers to the servant, who excuses himself, closing the door politely. "Archmage, Her light shine upon yours also, it is a pleasure as always. I trust the snow was not too onerous."

Synonie, on the other hand, fairly bounces up to Telamon, eyes bright and happy. "Master Telamon! Yule wasn't any fun at all. Uncle Baram got mad and hit me, and it really hurt, but Cousin Seldan and his friend Zeke came and took him away, and he hasn't been back or threatened anybody since. Grandmother wanted to sleep early, so she let me stay up with Cousin Seldan!"

Telamon is too skilled to let any displeasure show on his face at Synonie's trials. Instead, he smiles down at the happy-eyed young girl. "Well, there will be other Yules, and better ones by far. And your cousin is a good man, and very wise. Probably wiser than me, at any rate." He winks, a cheeky expression.

His gaze shifts to Seldan, and he looks amused. "Hm. Seen worse. But like you, the cold doesn't touch me any more. Not much wind either, thankfully, but the skies are the color of a stone wall. We may get snow again soon."

A very small quirk of a smile tugs at the corners of Seldan's lips, and he gestures his visitor to a comfortable chair across from them. "Of that, there can be little doubt," he observes mildly, with an entirely deadpan neutral expression. "I give the fae a wide berth."

The verbal jab seems to have gone entirely over Synonie's head, or past her ears. "Of course he is," she says with the stoutness that only an eight-year-old can muster. "But I bet you're pretty wise, too. You do good magic, right?"

Telamon smirks at the small jab, but doesn't rise to the bait. "A good idea. Still, there are worse people to try to work with." He takes a seat, settling himself across from Seldan, turning his gaze back to Synonie. Her question makes him smile.

"I am a sorcerer, yes. Devoted to Ni'essa Sky-singer -- that is the name the sildanyari use for Eluna. So yes, 'good magic' is what I do. Every spell I cast is on my own conscience -- no matter what."

"That's what Cousin Seldan says, too." Synonie waits until she thinks Seldan isn't looking, then sneaks a cookie. Seldan, meanwhile, merely chuckles quietly. "May I offer you some tea?" He draws a sigil in the air, then gestures at the tea service that has been patiently waiting, wrapped in a towel until he unwraps it and lays it aside using the remote hands of the spell.

Meanwhile, Synonie continues on. "Ni'essa Sky Singer? I guess Eluna has lots of names."

"All of the gods so do, Synonie," Seldan answers, most of his focus on the pouring of tea. "She is beloved by many of the sildanyari, and many more keep Her name upon their lips."

Munch munch cookie.

"Tea would be marvelous, Sir Seldan, thank you." Telamon also pretends to not notice Synonie getting a cookie. "Indeed. It's like a word for something in different languages; the word may change, but the meaning never does."

While Seldan is pouring the tea, Telamon opens the satchel he brought with him, inspecting the contents. "Sir Seldan, has Synonie been apprised of the reason for my visit? I really dislike 'springing' things on people. Except surprise gifts. That's always fun."

"For example, Synonie, were I to pour this tea on you, that would be using magic to do things I ought not do," Seldan explains once Telamon has finished, setting aside the teapot and lofting a cup for himself and a cup for Telamon.

Synonie looks aghast. "You wouldn't! Mother would be _mad_."

"With good cause," Seldan agrees equably, taking his own teacup once he has used the spell to pass Telamon his cup. The blend is a light chamomile/lavender blend, an evening tea. "Never would I do such a thing, but it may be that you will meet those who think it funny to do so. It is not funny at all, it is rude and irresponsible."

He shakes his head. "Not all of it. I told her that you were here to keep a promise, but she had to be very careful not to wake Grandmother up."

"You're here to test me for magic!" The meaning is not lost on Synonie, and she bounces up again, excited as she catches on.

"Sir Seldan has it in one. I actually teach at the University of Alexandria -- but I teach ethics. When to cast a spell, and when -not- to cast, is very important. Because Ni'essa will judge you on that." Telamon offers Synonie a reassuring smile. "However, you will learn those lessons as you get older, whatever form your studies take."

Telamon accepts the tea from Seldan, taking a sip and nodding approvingly at the taste. "Quietly, Synonie, quietly. Remember, we don't wish to wake your grandmother. And you must go into this with an understanding. Magic does not come to everyone. Some simply do not have the aptitude for it -- either the learned path, or the innate path. Regardless, at the end of this day, your family will still love you. Your cousin will love you as well."

As if one cue, Seldan raises the finger of his free hand to his lips. "We will tell your parents what we found, for it is important that Uncle Parnell and Aunt Edonia know," he adds. "Your path need not change, no matter the findings. Not all of Her Guard take up the arcane, even do they bear the aptitude. Perhaps the truest and mightiest Silver Guard I have known laid hers aside, and devoted herself to the Dreamer's path alone."

Synonie claps both hands to her mouth, and listens, nodding. "I understand," she whispers. "I didn't know there were multiple ways to do magic. I thought it was all musty old books."

Seldan regards the girl steadily, and shakes his head slowly. "There are many different means by which people come to magic. I set a pell on fire when I was a bit older than you. None thought to test me for magic."

Synonie's hands remain at her mouth, her eyes big. "Did you mean to?"

"Not even a little. I was merely frustrated and angry, and the next thing I knew, the pell in the courtyard was up in flames."

Telamon smiles benignly at Synonie. "Ultimately, it will be up to you. Magic is... more than just books. Some possess it through learning, yes. For others, it is instinctive, something that springs from within." He begins removing items from the satchel: a small book, a set of cards, a couple of scrolls, a circlet, and a small crystalline sphere. "This test is primarily for determining sorcerous aptitude, though it serves if your skills might lie more along a wizard's path."

He smiles. "None of it will be painful, though it may confuse you at times. Trust that your cousin and I would not do anything to hurt you."

Seldan, too, settles back and watches with some interest as the items are set out on the table, sipping his tea. Synonie, meanwhile, drops her hands from her mouth, polishes off her cookie,and brushes the crumbs off on her dress. Her eyes are wide as she watches. "I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me," she agrees. "Sorcery? Is that the kind you just know how to do, or you don't? What do I have to do?"

Telamon nods. "Many call it the 'talent'. If you've ever met a bard, bards and sorcerers have very similar styles. Indeed, many sorcerers take up artistic pursuits as a hobby." He picks up the circlet, and carefully places it on Synonie's head. "Don't touch this. I need to be able to watch it." He studies the circlet, as it glimmers in a few places, before consulting the small book.

He then picks up one of the scrolls, unrolling it and showing it to Seldan: it shows eight pictograms, arranged in a circle. Each one representing a school of magic. Tel then shows the scroll to Synonie. "Tell me, do any of these markings look familiar, or can you determine their meaning?"

The circlet is more than a little big for Synonie, and she watches it carefully, brightening in delight as it shrinks to fit her comfortably. She keeps trying to look at it, until she is distracted by the pictograms. She stares at each of them for a few moments, then points at the one for divination. "This one - I think I saw it in one of Eluna's religious writings, or something like it. It's got something to do with Her." Another few moments of staring, and hesitantly she points at abjuration. "This looks like a protection or a shield."

Telamon looks in the book again, his expression neither encouraging or otherwise. "Hmm. Alright, Synonie, I want you to hold this." The crystal sphere is about two inches across. "Now, while you're holding that, I want you to look at this card."

He draws a card, and holds it up, the blank side facing Synonie. "Focus on the sphere in your hand, and tell me what is drawn on the other side of this card."

Synonie takes the sphere in her hand, turning it over and over in her hand. Finally, she looks at the card, and at the sphere, and at the card. "I, um. I don't know," she says uncertainly after a minute or two, although really she's staring as much at the card as at the sphere.

Telamon gives Synonie a gentle smile. "It's all right." He reaches out to take the sphere again, putting it back in the satchel before studying the glowing runes on the circlet and checking his book once more. Nodding, he closes the book. "Answers. Truth. These are always preferable to falsehoods."

"It is my determination that you are not a sorcerer, Synonie. The circlet is not reacting to any innate mana manipulation." His eyes twinkle. "However... you identified two of the runes on that scroll correctly, which suggests you have aptitude for the Art. Wizardry. I was curious to see if you had any knack for clairvoyance, but I think you may be a little young for far-seeing -- even at three feet of range."

"The good news is that such skill is up to you. You will have to study -- wizards must devote their minds, sharpen them, to be good at their magic. But it is something you can control. Sorcery can be... somewhat of a chore to develop at times."

"So - I'm not a sorcerer, but I could be a wizard if I studied hard." Synonie seems to be thinking about this answer, and takes the circlet off and hands it back. "Yes, it's always right to be honest. It's okay. All those musty old books sound boring, to be honest, and I really want to be a Silver Guard."

Seldan, who had been watching quietly, lets out a small breath and takes a pull of his tea. "That you shall be one, do you devote mind, body, and soul to the task, there can be no doubt. So it is with any path, that you will find it, do you devote yourself to it. It is well that you have options, and both are tasked and called to follow Her path. It is even as Telamon says, that sorcery is oft tricky, and difficult."

"Wait. Will I get wings like Cousin Seldan?"

"No, Synonie." Seldan takes a cookie of his own, with a very small smile. "Those came to me as I was exploring my own sorcery, and many hours did I spend learning their use. Hours that are yours, thankfully, to spend as you choose."

"Devotion is an honorable and righteous endeavor. And if you apply yourself, Synonie, I daresay your cousin will support you." Telamon takes the circlet back, putting it away. "Don't knock those musty old books too hard. I've found them to be useful, and quite informative. You'll probably wind up having to read a few on the road to becoming a Silverguard."

At the question of wings, Telamon grins. "If it makes you feel better, Synonie, I didn't get wings either. Sorcery manifests differently from person to person, and the powers can be flashy or subtle. But wizards -can- learn to fly with spells, and one of my dear friends, Simony, is fond of 'air walking' to my residence when she visits."

The tiniest bit of disappointment manifests itself on Synonie's face, and when she spots Seldan picking up a cookie, she does likewise, quickly. "Oh. So I could still learn to fly, just not with pretty wings. And I'll have to read anyway."

"Seldan inhales, and lets out a slow breath. "That is so, Synonie. I must say that wizardly flight is the easier of the two forms. Flying is far more difficult than it first appears, and it takes practice. Practice, I daresay, that right now is better spent on her teachings, or on your weapons work. Have your parents found you a teacher?"

"No, not yet, though they say they will. I think they're being pretty picky, but I really want to get started!"

Telamon grins. "I don't know, Sir Seldan. Magical flight is a bit more instinctive, but I recall having a very ungraceful landing in front of you not long after I'd first learned the spell. Fortunately there was a snowdrift to land in."

"That being said, yes. Practice, practice. I don't really have any suggestions to be honest -- the only Silverguard I know well is your cousin. Paladins from other faiths generally don't have a problem with basic instruction, but the theological issues mean they can only do so much."

The way Seldan's features light up into boyish amusement says that he also recalls the incident clearly. "So you did. You were quite fortunate. My first serious error -" The smile fades, going ragged around the edges. "We can teach weapons work freely, but it is likely that only a Silver Guard will be able to teach you the finer points of Her weapon. I am skilled in the weapon of the Draco Solis, in large part because I was taught it first. Synonie is permitted any weapon of the Light that she should wish to learn.""

"I just want to learn _something_," Synonie pouts, between bites of cookie. She climbs up into the paladin's lap, who smile and accommodates her, helping her get settled. "The learning of any weapon is a great deal of work, but it is well worth it, to the defense of they who cannot defend themselves. Now, I believe it is your bedtime."

The dreaded word. Oh no. It's written plainly on Synonie's face.

Telamon covers his mouth to hide his smile at Synonie's clear dismay, and once he gets his expression under control, he remarks, "Indeed. There are those who will teach you many things, Synonie. Never be afraid to learn." He grins, "It's served me well, after all."

"But that is for the future. Little girls need their sleep. After all, you have a lot of growing to do, and learning, and it won't happen in a day." He finishes putting away the implements of testing, and looks at Seldan. "Ni'essa watches over all our dreams."

"Learning is never amiss, and at times may it save you," Seldan agrees, standing up and setting Synonie gently on the floor." With a quick sigil and a gesture, he cleans the last of the cookie crumbs from her dress, from his lap, and from the rest of the area., without comment.

"Aw." But, Synonie pouts for only a few moments, and hops down readily enough. "We can have a snowball fight tomorrow, right, Cousin Seldan?"

"Of course." This is said with the very smallest of smiles. "Perhaps your brothers will find time to join us, but if you want to be awake to do that, you have to go to bed so you can get a good night's sleep. Go find Blayre, and tell him Seldan told you it's bedtime."

This idea seems to perk Synonie up, and secure her cooperation. "Okay!" Quick as a wink, she's on the floor and out the door, with a minor slam behind her that makes Seldan stiffen. He looks after her, smiling. "Ni'essa guide our dreams, indeed."

Telamon shakes his head as Synonie departs, and offers Seldan a grin. "Gods, she's a handful and then some. But..." He rubs his chin, before picking up his teacup for another sip. "If she endures, she will make a fine Silverguard. Or anything else she applies herself to."

He sits back, thoughtful. "It's hard to tell how the talent emerges. Sometimes it skips generations -- slumbering, only to awaken. There've been some treatises on that sort of thing, but kept strictly theoretical. Nobody seems particularly eager to start trying to breed sorcerous talent like... well, prize horses."

"For that am I grateful without end," Seldan agrees immediately, returning to his seat and picking up his teacup again, having removed all evidence of the consumption of cookies by an 8 year old with his judicious use of a minor spell. "Indeed she will. Her energy is nigh boundless, and she has not yet the wisdom to contain it. Not idly am I cautious of speaking the name of a golden dragon in her presence. Still is she blessed with a call to the Light, and for that could I not be more pleased."

"Little enough study have I made of the origins of sorcerous talent," he admits. "I fear that my own studies have focused upon the defense of the innocent."

"Wisdom will come with time and experience." Telamon looks at Seldan. "I would suggest you guide her, if no one else can be found. She trusts you, loves you, and one could not ask for a better teacher in this." His lips quirk up. "I think you can remember not to speak our mutual golden friend's name, either. Perhaps this is your next calling, Sir Seldan -- to help train new heroes."

"If you're honestly curious about how 'talent' emerges, I can recommend Anarikien's treatise on the subject. I have a copy if you like. Relates more to draconic bloodlines, but it's still considered a foundation of study."

"It pleases me to guide her, as far as I may, and to offer her what I can. Still -" Seldan cradles his teacup in both hands, staring down into its depths. "Well am I aware that my service demands of me things that could see me to Her halls at any time. I shall guide and offer companionship to the children of my family as I may, and as my time permits."

Telamon shrugs. "Perhaps. Or perhaps not. Very well -- we have other things on our plates that demand our attention. But..." Telamon sighs a little. "I would not rob her of your counsel, Sir Seldan."

He shakes his head, pushing back whatever moodiness threatens. "Enough. Save tomorrow for tomorrow. You have a snowball fight to prepare for, and I think I shall take my leave. I told Lana I would be back soon, after all." His eyes twinkle with stars. "There's a certain convenience in that aspect of magic, I must say."

"That shall I not do, at all." Seldan takes the last pull of the teacp and sets the empty on the table, and blows away the cobwebs of melancholy thought with an exhaled breath. "That day is not yet here, and until it comes, I shall continue to serve Her - in whatever She asks of me."

He rises, then, and offers to take the teacup, setting them on the tea service and clearly intending to see Telamon to the door. "My thanks for your aid this even, and well am I pleased to see you. I shall speak with Grandmother, and with her parents as well. Give your lady my best."

Telamon stands as well, and smiles at Seldan. "Of course. She is your friend too, after all. And give my regards to your family. If there is assistance needed, I will be happy to come to your aid."

And so the two leave the parlor, one to cross the long distance between Bryr Myridorn in a heartbeat, and one to stay and spend time with a newly rediscovered family.