[ This makes two times, then, that he's caught his comrade off-guard. The first instance had been the product of happenstance and the younger man's own fluster (the Hero's temperament, the light of his green eyes, the taper of nimble ears all remind Sion of another such Hero in Blanc), but the second might have been avoided if Sion had paid greater mind to the deference which he'd been greeted with even before he'd made his status known.
My Lord. Seat of Magisters. Outside world.
Ah. For Sion having offered his aid out of the blue, quite suddenly there's rather a lot to talk about, and none of it seems befitting of a festival food stall. But here they are, and where his companion takes to furiously working the crepe batter (again!), Sion whisks the heavy cream (chilled by way of magic!) with vanilla bean (and not extract!), thinking only that there is no great distance between them. ]
Keep to your studies, for there is always much to learn. Be tenacious as you have been in pursuit of finding your place. And know... that you do not dream alone. Do not lose heart, and do not give up.
[ Such matters are close to Sion's own heart, being that the very first barrier he'd torn down upon ascending the throne had been the wall which parted civilians and nobility; that which promoted inequality and worse. It had been that very barrier which had allowed his Lord father to abduct a happily wed woman and keep her as a doll, as a mistress. And when that woman (beautiful and kind), became with child, she'd been a thing discarded, cast aside with the child she bore into the most destitute region of the country.
That child, of course, had been Sion himself. And if he'd spoken with conviction (and he had), it had been because he, too, had once struggled to find his place (and truth be told, he struggles still). ]
...though you may wish give up on the batter for the crepes, lest you over-mix it.
[ And surely, the pan meant for the batter must be hot enough to work properly with by now...! ]
no subject
[ This makes two times, then, that he's caught his comrade off-guard. The first instance had been the product of happenstance and the younger man's own fluster (the Hero's temperament, the light of his green eyes, the taper of nimble ears all remind Sion of another such Hero in Blanc), but the second might have been avoided if Sion had paid greater mind to the deference which he'd been greeted with even before he'd made his status known.
My Lord. Seat of Magisters. Outside world.
Ah. For Sion having offered his aid out of the blue, quite suddenly there's rather a lot to talk about, and none of it seems befitting of a festival food stall. But here they are, and where his companion takes to furiously working the crepe batter (again!), Sion whisks the heavy cream (chilled by way of magic!) with vanilla bean (and not extract!), thinking only that there is no great distance between them. ]
Keep to your studies, for there is always much to learn. Be tenacious as you have been in pursuit of finding your place. And know... that you do not dream alone. Do not lose heart, and do not give up.
[ Such matters are close to Sion's own heart, being that the very first barrier he'd torn down upon ascending the throne had been the wall which parted civilians and nobility; that which promoted inequality and worse. It had been that very barrier which had allowed his Lord father to abduct a happily wed woman and keep her as a doll, as a mistress. And when that woman (beautiful and kind), became with child, she'd been a thing discarded, cast aside with the child she bore into the most destitute region of the country.
That child, of course, had been Sion himself. And if he'd spoken with conviction (and he had), it had been because he, too, had once struggled to find his place (and truth be told, he struggles still). ]
...though you may wish give up on the batter for the crepes, lest you over-mix it.
[ And surely, the pan meant for the batter must be hot enough to work properly with by now...! ]