Varce was sipping tea in Arvel's office as he listened to the elder talk about alchemy. The old man was waxing poetically about the details of his latest experiments as the sect master struggled to focus on the subject because he was too busy observing Cyril as he brewed tea for his Master and guest.
Cyril's slim figure was busy preparing an assortment of herbs in a teapot. He was brewing the leaves as carefully as he would with any of his alchemy projects. There were no wasted movements or hesitation as Cyril focused on his task. The scent of fresh cut herbs filled the room as the brew had begun to boil.
The young alchemist had a special tea blend he created and Varce had recently become obsessed with it. The delicate tea had a bitter, floral fragrance and soothed the young sect master's nerves better than any other restoratives he could find. He had excitedly asked Cyril to give him some of the tea to take home. Cyril finally gave him the tea, but cryptically told him he was only wasting time and leaves because Varce wouldn't be able to make it properly.
Varce was confused about what Cyril meant, but he soon realized Cyril was right. No matter how many times he tried, the tea he made was overwhelmingly bitter or sour. Varce watched Cyril with dedicated intensity, attempting to uncover the great secret behind Cyril's tea making.
'It doesn't really matter if I can't learn to make the tea though. If I can't make it, it just means I'll have to visit Cyril and ask him to make it for me!' Varce smiled smugly at his perfect plan. He would get his tea and see his Little Cyril too.
'What is that idiot smiling about now,' Cyril observed Varce's dumb smile as Arvel spoke about the finer points of using amphibian-type blood in different pill types.
"Young Draek, are you listening?" Arvel had finally noticed Varce's look as well. He didn't feel that Varce was this excited about the applications of amphibian blood.
"Yes, Uncle." Varce lied quickly.
Arvel eyed him suspiciously and Cyril tried not to roll his eyes at the inattentive sect master that had been caught not listening to his elder. Arvel decided to ignore Varce.
Arvel subtly glanced between the two young men before making up his mind. He turned to Cyril, who was gracefully serving tea for him.
"I have papers for the sect master. Attend our guest while I go get them, Cyril." The elder stood up abruptly and hurried out of the room before Cyril answered. Varce looked like he wanted to say something, but Arvel was already gone.
'Seriously, Master? That's what you're going with?' Cyril watched as his Master hurried out of his personal office, where all his paperwork was kept, to find the "important papers" for the sect master. The old man obviously just wanted an excuse to leave Cyril and Varce alone. He could have at least tried to come up with a little bit better of an excuse!
Cyril sat down after serving tea at his Master's vacated seat. He served Varce and himself and the two young men sat awkwardly in the silence. Or rather, Varce did. The sect master shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he snuck glances at Cyril, who was looking perfectly serene as he drank his tea, wholeheartedly ignoring Varce.
"So… do you have theories on the alchemical uses of amphibian blood?" Varce awkwardly attempted to engage with the quiet young man across from him. Cyril arched an eyebrow, trying not to laugh at the sect master who was poorly trying to initiate some conversation.
'Seriously? That's what he's going with?' Cyril had become more accustomed to the strange sect master over the past weeks as Varce visited the Alchemy Hall regularly. He still didn't like the arrogant dragon, but he seemed slightly more tolerable as time went on. Cyril appreciated Varce's attentiveness to Master Arvel especially. The sect master obviously cared about his godfather as much as Arvel cared for him. His genuine actions had earned Varce a few points of Cyril's respect.
"Do you have questions about the blood's applications? Master Arvel has spoken for some time, did anything interest you?" Cyril wanted to snicker as he returned the question to the clueless sect master.
"I think… the properties sound promising and… I'm sure Elder Arvel's insight will be well appreciated when he publishes his study for the Alchemy Hall." Varce struggled, but wisely gave a vague answer. He belatedly realized this may have been a bad choice of topic and cursed his inattentiveness.
Cyril felt a smile try to tug at the corner of his lips hearing the sect master's attempts, but he pretended to accept the answer.
"Which apparent properties interest you most?" Cyril's head tilted as he feigned curiosity, enjoying Varce's floundering expression.
"I-" Varce tried, "I think there were… many fascinating… examples. I can't wait for Elder Arvel's results."
"Uh huh," Cyril's blank gaze focused to look Varce in the eyes. Varce became intensely interested in his tea cup, scrutinizing it closely.
Arvel finally returned, entering the office again to rescue his godson. He had been listening to the boys outside as Cyril had teased the helpless sect master. Arvel magnanimously chose to give his godson mercy and interrupt his student's teasing.
"Did you find the papers, Master?" Cyril's quick wits took aim at Arvel as he predictably entered the room empty handed.
"I- I didn't. Must have misplaced them somewhere else…" Arvel found himself regretting his act of mercy as his disciple switched his attention from Varce to his Master. Cyril's deep gaze settled on Arvel and provoked him to admit his faults.
'Cheeky brat,' Arvel thought, even while admiring how potent his young disciple's aura was at his level.
"Anyways… I'm sure I'll find them later." Arvel cleared his throat. He avoided looking into the young man's eye and changed the subject quickly.
"So, Young Draek, I'm sure the council has already started discussing the InterSect Competition, have they not?"
Varce almost sighed with relief as his godfather turned to a subject he was familiar with.
"Yes, Uncle. The elders have explained everything and are already putting forward candidates." Varce smiled, thinking of the excellent disciples that were participating this year. The sect needed to show their strength after he had taken his position two years ago. Fortunately, his father had left a sturdy foundation, and the sect would not dishonor itself in the upcoming event.
"Good! I intend to put Cyril as a candidate." Arvel nodded and picked up his cooling tea cup, sipping it leisurely.
Varce sputtered over his tea. "What?!"