Bravoyn returns to his uncle's flat after a long day of healing at the Balmora Temple.
The evening sun had just dipped below the ridge behind Balmora when Bravoyn left the temple, hands aching, a faint pressure behind his eyes. The marks of a day well spent, in his opinion. The disappearing sun had taken with it the warmth of the early-autumn day. Bravoyn pulled the sleeves of his robe down as he walked, though the flat he’d started to call home in recent months wasn’t far. He could smell, as he approached the foot of the stairs that led up to Edd’s flat, the distinct herbal tang of kreshweed smoke. He smiled to himself, briefly. It wasn’t an uncommon odour in this part of the city, and that was in no small part due to his uncle’s predictable habits. Sure enough, when Bravoyn entered the flat, he was greeted by the sight of Eddie leant back in the chair at his work table, tilted back, eyes closed, with a kreshweed joint in his mouth, a stream of smoke trailing upwards from it towards the small window that he’d cracked open.
“Evening, kid.” He said around the joint without opening his eyes.
“Back giving you trouble again?” Bravoyn asked as he crossed the small space to the screens that separated the corner where they’d managed to squeeze in a bed for him. He dropped his satchel at the foot of it and freed his hair from its tie, letting the auburn length fall down his back. It did little to relieve his aching head.
“Always is.” Edd replied, taking the joint out of his mouth and finally opening his eyes. He straightened as he watched Bravoyn with that familiar, scrutinising gaze of his, as though he was assessing exactly how much of himself Bravoyn had given away today.
“You know, I could-“ Bravoyn started to say as he leant against one of the screens.
“Not tonight, Brav. I’m not subjecting us to that indignity while you look like you’re about to keel over where you stand. I’m managing perfectly well.” He gestured towards a chair at the table in the middle of the room with his joint before taking another drag. “Sit. That screen wasn’t made to support your weight.”
Bravoyn simply smiled and crossed the room again, sitting as Edd had suggested. He near-enough collapsed into the chair, the room tilting slightly as went down so he rested his head in his arms for a moment. Edd held out the joint to him.
“You look like you need it.” He offered, and grinned when Bravoyn took it, for once, without hesitation. Bravoyn sat back up, pushing his hair back over his shoulder, and took a deep drag off the joint. He coughed once before letting the smoke back out in a sigh and handing the joint back to Edd.
“You know, mum would say you’re a terrible influence. Letting me develop bad habits like this.” Bravoyn leant back and watched Edd taking another pull. He’d tried to smile as he said it, but it just felt hollow, the way it always did whenever he spoke of his parents.
“Bad habits.” Edd repeated and smirked. “It’s hardly a habit on your part, kid. Try calling it that again when you’re my age and you’ve been at it for over twenty years. She’d be more concerned that you’re working yourself too hard.”
“I suppose she would.” Bravoyn conceded with a dry huff. Edd was right. She and his father had always tried to reach him the importance of letting himself rest, taking breaks, listening to his body. You can’t help anyone if you push yourself to exhaustion, love, he remembered her saying as she held a trembling hand between both of hers, both warming it and urging her magicka into him to soothe the fatigue that always came when he drained himself too deeply. “I guess we’re both disappointments.”
“Hey, none of that.” Edd said and nudged Bravoyn’s foot with his. “They’d be proud of you for keeping at it.” He took one final, deep drag from the joint and stubbed it out before blowing out the smoke in a long, slow exhale. “The temple had you busy?”
“Mmmm. There’s some kind of respiratory sickness going around labour town so we had a lot of people in today.” Bravoyn explained. He hooked his arm over the back of the chair and leant forwards to rest his chin on it.
“I see, long day of being coughed over then? No wonder you look like shit.” Edd grinned, and Bravoyn tried for offense but he just laughed, starting to feel a little lighter. That kreshweed must have started to kick in.
“Something like that,” He murmured. “What about you? Did you get that enchantment to stick?”
“I did, finally. Bloody finicky things.” Edd reached behind him for the amulet on his workbench, and held it out to Bravoyn. There was a faint, purple glow rippling over the surface of it, a simple, red stone wrapped in a thick, gold-coloured wire. “It’s a guild job so I couldn’t half-arse it this time.”
“You never half-arse anything.” Bravoyn took the amulet and examined it, turning it between his fingers, careful not to activate the enchantment. “What does it do?”
“True, but I like having the option available.” Edd grinned again and accepted the amulet once Bravoyn had finished looking at it, setting it back down on his desk. “Levitation and invisibility. At the same time. Some fucker wants to fly about without being seen.”
“Sounds complicated.” Bravoyn murmured. His head, thankfully, had finally stopped throbbing.
“Oh, it was. Bloody guild never want to give me the easy jobs. It’s always shit like this or something they don’t want dirtying their hands. Usually both.”
“I’m getting the impression that you don’t much like working for them.” Bravoyn commented, resting his chin back on his arm, his mouth curving in amusement.
“That obvious?” Edd asked dryly. His joints cracked as he stood and stretched, and Bravoyn winced sympathetically. Edd waved it off and went to crouch by the small clay oven in the corner, lighting it with a simple, practiced gesture, and then set an old, battered kettle over it. “Unfortunately, they usually pay well and it keeps them from harassing me to join them. Fuckers have been at it since the Empire landed here. Tea?”
“Please.” Bravoyn sat up again and stretched his arms out in front of him, flexing his fingers. The lingering strain from his day’s work had dulled, at least, though they still felt stiff. “So you take whatever jobs they don’t want to do themselves and they leave you alone?”
“Pretty much. It’s not ideal, but…better that than having their oversight on every bloody trinket I make.” Edd let out a long sigh as he waited for the kettle to boil. He set some cups and his pot of dried bittergreen leaves and trama root on the table, along with a small glass bottle of marshmerrow syrup. He sprinkled some of the leaf–root mixture into each cup, and then poured a little of the syrup into one with a grimace that he tried and failed to hide. He managed to keep his usual complaints about Bravoyn’s preference for sweetened tea to himself this time, at least. “Never thought I’d miss Sadrith Mora, but here we are.”
“Do you think you’d ever go back?” Bravoyn asked, watching his motions. There was something about the way Edd’s hands moved, steady and confident, that Bravoyn had found grounding since he was a child watching Edd pulverise herbs at his parents’ counter.
“Not without a significant change in leadership, kid. The Telvanni might care less about how you do your work, but they’re still a bunch of fuckin’ vipers. Anyway,” Edd paused to pour boiling water over the tea leaves, and left them to steep. “Despite the Empire encroaching on my peace, I’m kinda enjoying not having to watch my back every waking moment. And you make it easier to stomach this city, kid.” He gave Bravoyn an easy grin before adding “Even if you do take up half the flat.”
“I do not.” Bravoyn let out a huff through his nose and accepted the cup Edd slid towards him once it had sat for long enough. He wrapped his hands around it, the warmth sinking into his still-stiff fingers and soothing them slightly. He lifted it to his lips, blew on it, and then took a tentative sip. It was strong, as Edd always made his tea, herbal, slightly bitter, but grounding and sweetened just enough that it didn’t make Bravoyn shudder on its way down. “Mmm. Thanks.”
“Don’t sweat it, kid. You got plans for the evening?” Edd turned back to the clay oven; he took the kettle and poured the remainder of the water into a pot, set the kettle aside, and then moved the pot onto the oven to keep the water warm. He crouched with a quiet hiss and started rummaging through a basket. He plucked out a few ash yams, some corkbulb root, scuttle, and a bundle of fresh bittergreen leaves.
“I….” Bravoyn trailed off; his eyes flicked to his corner of the flat. A book on the barrel next to his bed that was serving as a side table caught his eye. “I thought I might keep going through that book Dorisa gave me. On Ashland sicknesses. There might be something useful in there for the current illness going around.”
“Hmm. You could do that.” Edd replied, stepping back towards the table with the vegetables he’d picked out in one arm, a board under the other, and a knife in his hand. His gaze, piercing and assessing, fell on Bravoyn again. “Or, you could relax for once. I know you don’t like letting yourself slow down, kid, but you look exhausted. No sense muddling up your brain with even more work.” Edd let the vegetables fall onto the table, set down the knife and cutting board, and sat across from Bravoyn with a grunt. He took a long swig of his tea before starting to chop them up. “Finish your tea, see if you can stomach my stew, and let everything else wait until the morning.”
“I don’t know, I should…” Bravoyn looked at the book again, and then back at Edd. Edd paused his knife briefly enough to glance back at Bravoyn with a raised eyebrow, and any will to argue just…went away. “All right, I’ll give myself a break.”
“Good.” Edd replied, giving him a crooked smile, and they settled back into their quiet domestic rhythm of Edd chopping vegetables while Bravoyn continued sipping on his tea, resigned to letting his mind settle and fighting back the need to keep going.
