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It was nearly dinnertime, and Arc had not yet checked in on his new young charge. What a day it had been! He honestly felt like sagging, but things needed tending to. He slipped back into Taj's suite of rooms and made his way by the secret backstairs to his own room.

Stepping inside the semi-concealed door, he found the boy there. He was clothed decently in jeans, t-shirt, and slightly overlarge tennis shoes. He also looked distinctly uncomfortable in them. He was wandering the room, looking at the ornate details, peering at the lamps, studying the shelves of books. Arc watched him a moment, taking in the nuances of the boy's state of mind, shown while he was unwary. It wasn't long before the boy's roving eyes caught sight of him, though.

The boy stood bolt upright then, coming to attention as if for inspection. Arc smiled and approached the boy, settling one hand on his shoulder. "So Hatim, what do you think of your new home?" He watched with amusement as the boy's eyes ran over the room one more time without turning his head.

"Nice, master," he replied, looking rather at a loss of what to say. Arc had to admit, there really wasn't much the child could say to such a bald question. Ah well, he might as well get down to the nittygritty right away.

"Come sit, there are things I must discuss with you, and it must be now, for we have a guest coming for dinner." The boy's eyes were wide, faintly startled, and definitely wary. What reason had Arc given him to truly feel comfortable yet, after all? He steered the small teen to the chairs before the fire. There were four of them, grouped loosely with a large coffee table in front of them and occasionally a table between them. He motioned the boy to take a seat, but Hatim opted instead to perch on an overstuffed footstool near the armchair Arc chose.

"There are some things you need to understand," he began, interlacing his fingers and resting his elbows on his knees, leaning forward to peer earnestly into the boy's eyes. But to his surprise, those eyes crinkled up in a smile.

"Oh, I know all that already," he piped up, his posture relaxing. "You is a god, a dee-ah-tee." He pronounced the word with care, clearly unused to it. "You are Numbers, and this is your room. But your room is in the rooms of the Lord Taj, the dee-ah-tee of Miss-tah-ree." He finished his spiel and beamed up at at Arc with pride. Arc grinned in pride. This was going to be easier than he'd thought, if the boy was this quick. Question was, did he understand was a diety really signified?

He had no time to assess the boy's understanding, as the next moment a knock announced Taj's arrival. He rose immediately and went to let his guest in... though he supposed he should say it the other way around. He let his host in? A wry smile twisted his lips as he opened the door and stepped back. "Welcome, Tajneveki," he gestured grandly into his tiny domain within Mystery's rooms. "I would say what is mine is yours, but it truly is yours." His smile warmed into real welcome then, offering a hand before gesturing for Taj to take a seat by the fire.

Hatim had also leapt to his feet when his master had. Now he stood awkwardly, looking all elbows and knees. The extra large shoes did not assist in this image either. He did not fidget, having been taught early to stand straight and be still, but his eyes were almost owlish in the muted lighting. He watched the newcomer intently, gaze taking in all the details that could be seen. Still, he did not move or speak of his own. It wasn't his place, after all!

"My lord of Mystery, may I introduce Hatim, a boy newcome to serving me." He joined them once more, having closed the door. He gave the gawky boy a stern look. "Though he is most definitely not my slave, right Hatim?" He waited for the boy to nod vigorously before he settled himself into his chair. "Hatim, this is Tajneveki, the god of Mystery. He is to be respected, but no more feared than you do me." His smile towards the half-grown boy was reassuring.

"Ah, something to drink, Taj?" he inquired then. He wasn't sure what he had to offer, but he was certain the room would come up with something for him. It was odd that way. In fact, he'd already spied a small sturdy cot of a bed tucked into a discreet spot, doubtless for Hatim. It made him smile. Apparently the room itself rather liked them being here.

As Taj put the boy at ease, Arc cast about for what he figured must be there somewhere. Finally he noticed a hook moved to the side of the fire, tucked into shadows around the mouth of the fireplace. Upon the hook hung a small teakettle. With a sight of relief, he slipped to the bathroom to fill it with water. Placing it over the fire, he set about opening drawers in various places. Sure enough, one nearby held a small tea service for four. The cups were plain, save for a faint repetitive design along the rim. Absently he named the pattern for what it was. "Fractal," he murmured to himself as he set the cups, saucers, and tea itself on the coffee table. The irony of having tea on a coffee table however was lost on Numbers.

He settled into his seat to wait for the water to boil about the same time as Taj did the same. His eyes darkened a little at the message, but nodded slowly. "Yes, all is well, now." For the most part. If one discounted a charmed bird, injured servant and friend, and general disgruntlement over the whole situation. The very idea of Rissa and Raja being mistaken for demons!

He gave a snort of indignation. "The fool of a woman clearly was not entirely in her right mind," he declared heatedly. "But at least all is well.... now." He gave Taj an apologetic and grateful look, all in one. "I am thankful for the help of those who serve you, Lord Mystery," he intoned in formal appreciation. "Without them, I know not what the outcome would have been." His expression was vaguely bleak. To have come so far to nearly be undone by a mere human woman! What the use of being reborn if he was so fragile? He chafed, not even knowing exactly what he chafed against.

Hatim broke into his distressed reverie. "You could have taken her, Master," he boasted confidently. His eyes shone with hero-worship as he sat as primly as a fourteen year old could on his perch. He'd smiled warily at the stranger when he'd leaned close, but had laughed in a more genuine manner at the coin's production. He hadn't reached for the coin, but it had been given to him. His eyes had nearly bugged out at this most unheard of gift. His shock had only been broken by Arc's despondant tone. Now he sat unconciously clutching the coin tightly in a fist and gazing earnestly at his Master. "She didn't even have a weapon!"

Arc winced at this last detail. True, she hadn't come in armed, though she'd resolved that quickly enough. Still, it made his otherwise inevitable defeat by the woman even more humiliating. He gave a resigned sigh. "At least it is done, now. Raja and Rissa are safe, ensconced safely here." The last was said as a half question, slanting his gaze at Taj. He hadn't had time to check in on his friend since returning to the rooms. In fact, he himself was still somewhat dusty from the whole day. Not overly so, but somewhat less than at his best.

By now the kettle boiled, hissing animatedly over the fire. Snatching up the heavy cloth holder hanging furthest on the hood's arm from the fire, he swung it out and lifted the kettle to pour carefully into the three cups he'd set out. He caught Hatim's startled glance with a gentle smile. "Yes, you eat with me,, and are served by your master." He winked before turning to put the kettle back on the hook, nearly empty. "Get used to it, my boy. Life will be entirely different for you now."

On a random whim, he suddenly grinned and tipped his chin up loftily. "You walk amongst the gods now, after all!" It was said in jest and teasing, though entirely true. Hatim's fate had certainly changed entirely, and permenantly. By looking at him just now, however, one might wonder if he was comfortable with the change. Being served by his master to sup at the same time as he! It was... unheard of!

Arc looked from the pad to Taj with equal inquiry. "You know, I haven't thought of that." After all, he'd only bought the boy's freedom that very day. It hadn't occured to him that the boy might not be well taught enough to read. He knew how to add, at least, but the knowledge of letters wasn't something one could assess from what little time they'd spent together.

"Hatim," he turned to ask the boy, who was just tipping the cup towards his lips. Startled by the sudden attention of his master while trying to master the knack of handling such a delicate cup that clearly was worth more than anyone had ever paid for him, the boy jerked as if to attention. In doing so, the hot liquid slopped out of the cup and splashed all over the boy's ill-fitting clothes. Horrified, Hatim nearly dropped the cup too, only just in time clasping it close before it slipped from his numb fingers. He cast his eyes up in terror at Arc, hunching his shoulders against the clearly expected blow.

Arc was on his feet immediatly, but threw himself to his knees beside the footstool. "Hatim! Are you okay?" he asked in alarm. The water had been scaldingly hot when he'd poured it, and he was extremely alarmed that the boy had burned himself. The boy merely stared at him wordlessly, mouth dropped open. "Tell me boy, are you burned?" Arc asked urgently, almost impatiently. The boy closed his mouth and shook his head, still mute.

Relieved, Arc sat back on his heels and let out a rush of breath. "Good and well then," he managed, giving the teen a smile. "I think you need to change your clothes yet again. Did they leave you more than this set?" Still wordlessly, Hatim nodded. "Good then. Go and get yourself dried off and in another change of clothes."

The thin boy gulped and carefully set down the cup, rising to do as bidden. Arc regained his seat, watching him as he moved. "Oh, and Hatim?" The boy paused, halfway across the room already, though he made more noise doing so than was warranted, his shooes flopping against the wood. "You can leave off the shoes if you prefer." Arc smiled more at the grateful look cast at him before the boy disappeared into the bathroom.

Bemused, Arc turned back to Taj. "It seems we must wait a bit longer before we know that detail about him," he commented with amusement. "He is a good child, and quick to please. I'll be glad of having him around." He recaptured his own cup and sipped, letting the flavor slip across his tongue. "Will you tell me more of you?" he asked then. "I am a guest of yours, but hardly feel I know much about you personally." This did seem the right time to learn more about each other, the atmosphere being so relaxed and reclusvie from the world and its troubles.

At the mention of progeny, Arc's brows rose and he sat up a bit straighter. So his friend had a lady! Goddess of Fire, it seemed. He mulled that for a moment. It wasn't a match one would guess at before it happened. Fire and Mystery? Though he supposed it wasn't all that far-fetched. Was it not around fires that tales of magic, horror, and mystery were told by the tribal peoples, with such traditions still carried on today? But the wording made him lean forward. "Is your lady Karaskis with child, then?" His face was filled with delight at the thought. What an idea, to have little godlings running about again! There was a great difference between the mortal child of one's host and the children of gods, mainly in the fact that one were precious, but the other were not only precious, but the key to the survival of the gods.

Odd as it was, Arctang had no trouble conversing with Taj this way. It seemed natural to simply read his written words rather than listen to them spoken. It did not occur to him to even inquire as to why he did not speak. In fact, the Pie Bird tended to simply assume that was how he was naturally. After all, what did it matter? Voice or no voice, he still could express himself just fine. Numbers themselves were quite silent, having no voice and needing no verbal expression in order to function.

But what exactly were oni? He gave Taj a quizzical look over his teacup before taking a sip. A soft rap on the door announced that once again, the tenders of the rooms had accurately anticipated the needs of the occupants. Before he could rise, though, Hatim darted barefoot from the bathroom to open the door. He was wearing loose linen trousers now, with another slightly large t-shirt over it. The trousers looked much more comfortable, and it made Arc smile.

It didn't take them long to fall to. Hatim fisrt was hesitant to take much food, until Arc began piling it on his plate for him. Shortly the boy was wolfing down food like a starved animal. Despite his voracious appetite, though, the boy ate neatly, and had the notable preference for consuming much of the savory foods before touching the sweet ones. Arc smiled to himself and ate more slowly, savoring the delicious flavors. Taj had excellent cooks. As a passing comment, he addressed his host. "I may have to steal your chefs, my friend, when I have rooms of my own!" He took a deep drink of the chilled water. "I compliment their talent!"

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It was some time later, though, after Hatim had stopped filling his third leg and had settled sleepily to one side of the fire, that Arc's mind turned to more sobering matters. He had avoided asking about it, avoided even thinking about it, until now. The dishes had been cleared away, and they sat facing the fire, sipping on their cups of tea.

He couldn't think how to broach the subject without revealing how he felt, nor how strongly. So he merely said what was on his mind, trusting to Mystery to understand. "What have you done with it?" he murmured, eyes focused deep in the fire, his tone mild and distant, untouched by the emotions that wanted to rage. For Arc, this was a delicate matter, and one he wasn't sure how to manage from here on out.

His eyes slid from the pad back to the fire, his jaw muscles tight. He lifted his cup of tea and sipped to force himself to relax them, gently working his jaw and taking a deep breath. "I don't know," he answered finally, in all honesty. "It can't be left just lying about, even here." He cast his host an apologetic look., meaning no insult. "Bad enough it has caused as much mischief as it has already." He sank deepeer into the comfortable chair, his mind tumbling over the possibilities and their consequences.

His musing was interrupted by a soft snore just then. Hatim, slumped against the wall, had clearly completely run out of energy. Arc rose, snagging an unused pillow from his own chair as he went. He eased the boy onto the pillow, then opened a chest and pulled out an appropriately sized blanket from it. Amazing how this room managed to provide what he needed, as he could have sworn that chest wasn't there before. He draped the soft material over the boy before returning to his chair.

"That is not the only thing that needs deciding either," he said quietly as he settled back down. "What am I to do with myself?" He folded his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees, and stared at his knotted fingers as if they held the answer somehow. He knew there was no answer from Taj to this question, not really. It was something only he was going to be able to unravel. Still, it was nice to have someone listen that he trusted not to make light of his inner turmoil.

He pivoted his head to the side to read what Taj had to say, and nodded slowly, his unruly hair falling across to almost hide one eye. The look was rogusih and boyish, giving him a rather vulnerable air. "That's an idea. Inventory stacks up if its' being produced swiftly, and the amounts can get muddled in the rush to make them." He ran a hand through his hair, sweeping it from his forehead. "For now, it's something to do," he agreed, giving a more relaxed sigh and sitting up again to stretch. "I could perhaps... hmm, yes. There could be a valid use for me there," he mulled aloud.

"Perhaps tomorrow or the day after you could show me where the forge's cache is?" he asked, stifling a yawn. What a day. Had it really all been just today? It seemed like days ago he'd found Hatim, much less freed Raja and his lady, though some of the rest seemed closer and more recent. He rubbed his eyes. "I might take some time to get to know the area, though," he amended. "Best not to get lost when I'm expected somewhere later."