Leareth is in Rethwellan, recruiting for mages. 

He's not in a massive rush - he has decades to go, yet, before the planned move on Valdemar - but the situation has recently changed. After the arrival of a Foresight dream that shouldn't have been possible, he sent out agents to seek this 'Herald Vanyel'; none of the plans to capture him succeeded, but he has a little more information, now. Herald Vanyel is sixteen and newly Chosen. He's noble-born, and was formerly the heir to a western landholding, Forst Reach; there's no record that he was Gifted, before this. His aunt is one of the strongest and most experienced Adepts in the Kingdom. The circumstances of Vanyel's Choosing are unusual, and mysterious; he hopes to later understand more. 

Leareth doesn't know what it means, yet, except that it indicates meddling, and so he needs to be prepared for a wider range of possible outcomes. Thus, an extra recruiting trip. 

He uses a false name, one of his Rethwellani personas, but he doesn't bother to disguise his face; it's not as though anyone in this town would recognize it. His room at the inn is booked under the name Eldrak Dryvale; he represents himself as the Adept mage of an elite and secretive school based in Jkatha, which is plenty to get through initial introductions. He's paid for three nights, here, though he intends to move on sooner if he doesn't find anyone worth talking to today.

For now, he walks through the shop district, eating the breakfast roll he purchased at a vendor's stall and looking around. 

That woman over there in the silk hat really is uncommonly pretty, isn't she?

That gentleman over there looks terribly dignified in his cap.

What an adorable little bonnet that girl is wearing!

It takes Leareth a couple of minutes to consciously notice that this is a weird amount of attention to be paying to clothing! What? 

He stops to wave at the little girl and compliment her on the bonnet, which incidentally gives him a chance to play his Othersenses over the whole scene. 

Her bonnet is very well-made. It's got a lovely wildflower pattern. No magic is in evidence. (Has he noticed that she's very cute?)

"Thanks sir," the girl mumbles when prodded by her mother.

.....Huh. 

Leareth doesn't know what to make of this. He's confused, but there's nowhere for the confusion to go, so he nods to the mother and keeps walking. And keeps an eye out for any other instances of oddly salient clothing and accompanying oddly salient traits. 

It keeps happening. Everyone who catches his attention this way is wearing a hat. Not everyone wearing a hat does. The ones who do are wearing very nice hats - if he takes the time to examine their physical characteristics instead of just his general impression, he'll note that the quality really is exceptional, better suited for a minor noble's wardrobe than a small-town commoner's.

One of them (who, despite being visibly in late middle age, looks remarkably young in her new green cap!) is walking out of a shop with windows full of hats of similar quality.

Leareth is now going from intrigued to mildly uneasy, but he's not so concerned that it outweighs his curiosity. 

He does, however, check all of his shields very thoroughly before cautiously nudging his way into the shop and glancing around. 

There's a girl behind the counter, maybe twenty years old. She looks up from some embroidery and smiles. "Hello!"

Then she blinks. A look of surprise crosses her face, and she closes her eyes for another few seconds - and her eyes snap back open as a hint of pink enters her cheeks. "Um, let me know if there's anything I can help you with," she says rapidly, looking back down at her embroidery.

Leareth nods to her, distractedly. "Just having a look, thank you." 

Are the hats not currently being worn by someone also oddly salient? Is there any sign of magic here? 

...Oh, and while he's at it, he'll open his Thoughtsensing further; he normally keeps it open enough to sense where the nearby minds are, but not enough to read surface thoughts. However, this is confusing and odd enough that he would really like to know more, and this is one of the faster ways to accomplish that. 

The girl is remarkably well-shielded! He can glean some vague notions - she's embarrassed and mildly guilty about something she just did, and she's very curious about him, and she's crushingly bored with her life.

When not worn, the hats are merely very fine hats.

Interesting. 

He approaches her. "These are some impressively fine hats. May I try some on?" If, as he's starting to suspect, they are magical artifacts that are efficient enough to be mostly-undetectable to Othersenses, he might be able to confirm that by actually wearing one. 

"Of course! Hmm, what would suit you..."

She stands to walk around the shop, her fingers trailing along the velvet and silk as she goes. "How about this one?" she asks, holding up a feathered cap that seems like it would, indeed, look quite fetching.

Leareth is not normally someone who pays much attention to fashion, but - sure, all right, he can try it on. After triple-checking his shields, again.

(The way she examined the hats did look a bit like someone using their Othersenses...) 

She hands it over and shows him to a mirror.

The hat makes him look... heroic? It's an oddly complex impression to be imparted by a single article of clothing, but there's a definite air of bravery and strength to his silhouette.

The girl shakes her head, covering her mouth as she giggles. "Oh, no, that won't do." She goes back to browsing.

That's very odd! 

Leareth keeps the hat on while she looks around, and tries to notice if it feels like anything from the inside if he turns away from the mirror and closes his eyes. 

There's something, very subtle - he probably wouldn't notice if he weren't so intensely self-aware. But as he is, he may notice that he's moving subtly differently. As he turns, especially, the motion's a bit less reserved than it might be.

"Try this?" she asks, holding out a brimmed hat.

Leareth takes it from her, but pauses a minute after removing the first hat, paying as much attention as he can to any subtle internal differences. 

The moment of removal doesn't feel like anything in particular, but once the hat is off he does resume moving as he normally would.

This is fascinating. 

"The workmanship on these is very fine," he tells the young woman, with a smile. "Do you do everything yourself? Where do you obtain the materials - the quality is excellent." 

He dons the brimmed hat and, again, examines himself in the mirror. (While discreetly watching the girl's reflection, to gauge her reaction.) 

She smiles genuinely. "Oh, I don't do all of it - um, Fana, my stepmother, handles the finances, and I have an assistant that handles some of the less delicate work? We get the materials from, well, various places, you can't exactly get silk and flax from the same farms, but - always the same places for each material, Fana likes to have a relationship with her suppliers and it really does pay off, you know?"

The brimmed hat holds an aura of confidence, a demand for respect. If he didn't have good posture, it'd probably be quietly correcting it. The girl looks at him critically. "Closer, but... mm, not quite." She returns to her perusal.

"You seem to have an eye for matching hats to people. How do you do it?" 

"Oh? It's - well, if you'll forgive me sharing a trade secret, Fana always told me 'half of the trade is convincing someone that this is the hat for them.' I show people how they'd look in a couple of different styles, and most of them won't suit a bit, but we come closer and closer to what will - really," and her voice drops, "that first hat was a dummy, I knew it wouldn't do a thing for you. You always start someone on the worst hat for them so they really feel the best. But - um - right, matching hats to people. I find that if you're really confident in a hat, you can't go wrong - so I try to make people confident in the hats they buy, and then let them maintain that relationship. It's all a bit silly, but it does work."

"I see. Well, I will be discreet with your trade secret." 

That...doesn't sound like how a mage would talk about artifact work? Maybe it's misdirection; she's clearly not selling these as magical, though he's...actually not sure why not, even for purely mundane clothing the hats are rather well-priced given their quality. She could be earning a lot more - 

- and how would you change someone's posture with a talisman, that - isn't the sort of thing that mage-work can usually do, it would be difficult even with compulsions... 

"You see people as having a relationship with the hats they wear?" 

"Oh, yes - anything you really love, that's a relationship, and something like a hat, if you don't love it then why would you get it? Mind, I don't mean love like a child or a pet or a lover, just - it should make you happy, you should want to take care of it so you can wear it 'til it's all worn out. That's how you should love a hat. All those nobles in Petras, I'm sure they've got dozens of hats apiece and they don't care a bit. Probably the only person in Petras who really loves his hat is the king."

She comes up with a lovely but unassuming hat, with a shorter brim than the last and a small brooch set in it. "I think this one will suit."

The way she talks about it, Leareth thinks, is most reminiscent of an ordinary crafter taking pride in their work and having the expected strong opinions on how it ought be done. Which still does nothing to explain what in all hells the hats are doing. 

He tries on the new one. 

It makes him look... human? That's wrong, it implies he wasn't human before, but - it takes an edge off of him, makes him look relatable. An everyman, someone who you can talk to. 

The shopgirl hums. "I do think I like that one."

That is a strange effect. All of the hats have different, noticeable effects, and - not ones that obviously come out of their literal appearance.... 

Leareth looks carefully at her. "...Were you by any chance tested for Gifts, as a child?" 

She gives him a slightly odd look. "Well, yes? We all got tested - my little sisters are mages, they went off to the University, but I didn't have a lick of it. Father used to say it all went into my fingers."

(There's a flicker in her expression when she mentions her father, barely noticeable.)

"I see." Leareth keeps his expression pleasantly neutral. "Would you mind if I checked again, now? I am a mage, I can do so easily." He'll mention the unusual nature of her hats if she asks why, but he doesn't want to spook her, and he has the sense that she may be easily spooked. 

"I... sure? You'll just need me to stand here, I guess?"

She looks - bemused is an accurate word, but perhaps insufficient.

Leareth can't really blame her! If she has a late-awakening mage-gift that she's managed not to ever consciously notice and is using it without even being aware of this, then no wonder she's confused at his response. 

He takes a step closer, and dives in with his mage-sight, seeking out any sign of active Gift-channels. 

She's not a mage.

She is, however, a Mindhealer. Making matters even odder, she's got a Wild Gift twining through her Mindhealing. It would be very difficult to blame the overworked Rethwellan mage-finders for not knowing what was going on here, if it even was at the time.

Leareth's only visible sign of surprise is that his eyes narrow slightly. 

"- In case you were wondering," he says after a longish silence, "you are in fact Gifted, though you may not yet have been when you were tested. Do you know anything of Mindhealers?" 

- Hats, that change your body language and have hard-to-describe but noticeable effects on how others perceive you, but that don't show up to mage-sight. A number of things are suddenly falling into place, and now Leareth has a completely different set of questions! 

"Mindhealers?" She shakes her head slowly. "I... know about Healers. You're saying I could, um. Cure... madness? But I know what Healers do isn't that simple..."

"Mindhealing can do something like that, yes, and many other things, though it takes extensive training to use safely. It seems likely you have not been using it in the standard way at all, though - I am curious about something. When you were picking out hats for me to try, was there something about me you were observing - something you could see even with your eyes closed...?" 

She suddenly looks profoundly embarrassed. "Oh no - um, yes, I, when my eyes are closed I see, um, instead of the people around me they're - dummies, dressed differently, in shifting clothes? And the dummy is such a way for each person, and the clothes are such a way, and I can see through the clothes to the dummy underneath? But. When you walked in I thought something was strange because, well, your dummy - it's not a dummy? It's just... you. You all the way down. And. I really didn't mean to see through your clothes."

Sophie seeing through his Mindhealing-metaphor-clothes is really the least of Leareth's concerns! 

"Fascinating," he breathes. "That would be Mindhealing Sight. All Mindhealers have a different metaphorical representation of minds - the characteristics of the dummy and the clothing you see will represent things about the person. ...Have you ever checked if you could change what you see?" A brief pause. "- Please do not try it on me right now." 

"Once."

Leareth watches her intently, trying to gauge from her expression how she feels about this line of questioning. "And what happened, then?" 

"...my father had recently died. I was looking in the mirror... and I closed my eyes... and I saw myself in a mourning veil, and I was - I was so tired of it. I tore the veil and burned it until it was gone, and - and I didn't feel it anymore."

"Oh. I...see." Leareth ducks his head. "My condolences." 

It would be tactless to add that this is a very impressive use of untrained Mindhealing; it may not have been the ideal way to approach dealing with grief, but she clearly managed to do something that had a clear effect and that didn't damage her ability to function. 

He takes a deep breath. "- When you work on the hats, here, is there - anything similar, anything you can see but not with your eyes, or sense in some other way?" He has no idea how he would expect her mysterious Wild Gift to feel from the inside. 

"...not quite like that, but... I do a kind of - thing, in my mind, that's difficult to describe? Sort of like painting a pattern inside my head. And. I talk to the hats I'm stitching while I do it, to keep myself on-task. I tell them, you know, what a lovely hat you are, you're full of youth and vigor, you have such mysterious allure - you're supposed to flatter your customers, and I suppose I'm just starting early."

Leareth nods. He's still looking at her very intently. This is possibly the most attention anyone has ever paid to Sophie. 

"Do you remember when that began? And - whether it correlated with an increase in your shop's popularity and reputation, or your sales?" 

"...yes, it was... when I was first employed at the shop... Fana said it had been going downhill, but when I picked up it... oh gods. Are you telling me I've been somehow ensorcelling my fucking hats?"

"Well. I believe you have been placing some sort of ongoing Mindhealing effect in your hats. I have never seen anything like it before and would not have assumed it was possible! You have an additional Wild Gift, one I do not recognize; I suspect that is what enables it."

He smiles reassuringly at her. "I think you would benefit from formal training. Mindhealers are very rare, but I happen to work closely with one, and she would be delighted to teach you." 

"I - I'm still - I mean -"

She takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I don't know you. I clearly can't keep doing what I'm doing, but - can you at least tell me, you know, who you are? I'm Sufya. Sufya Milin. We never actually, you know - just sort of jumped from customer-and-shopgirl to. Whatever's happening now."

Leareth opens his mouth to introduce himself using his local persona, and then stops. 

"- Actually, if we are going to speak of this, I would rather do so with more privacy, and with your agreement not to share certain things more widely. Is that all right?" His Thoughtsensing is fully open, trying to pick up as much as he can from her surface thoughts.  

"You realize that's not exactly reassuring? But - do what you need to do. Are you saying private room at the inn or set up some kind of scrying ward to throw your enemies off the scent? Or, you know, both."

Her mind is more than slightly full of static even internally. He's getting mingled guilt and hope, plus a general sense of a person too stressed to filter her speech effectively.

"Oh, here is fine if you have some kind of back room. I can provide wards. To be clear, I have no particular reason to think that anyone will be trying to eavesdrop, it is more out of general caution." 

Sufya turns the sign on the door to CLOSED and shows Leareth into the back room. She perches on a box of wax fruit and closes her eyes, then remembers that he knows about her Sight and hastily opens them again.

"Oh, you are welcome to Look at me, if you wish," Leareth clarifies quickly. "It does not bother me. See-through clothes or not." 

He glances around and finds another crate to sit on, and spends about a minute putting up wards, which should hopefully give Sufya a chance to collect herself. (And give him a chance to skim whatever he can get from the little of her mind that's not tucked behind native shields.) 

She blushes a bit, but does close her eyes and hum with interest.

(She's calming down, and - there's the overtones of someone looking at something utterly fascinating and trying to tease out the details and work out what they mean, which Leareth is probably very familiar with.)

If she's examining him with her Sight right now then Leareth is suddenly so agonizingly curious about what she Sees! It's not the time to ask about it, though, and he tells himself firmly to be patient. 

"We can speak now," he says finally. "My name is Leareth. I lead a large organization based very far to the north of here - one that is engaged in several avenues of original research in mage-work. I am visiting Rethwellan to recruit mages for this, but as I mentioned, I also work closely with a Mindhealer. I can confidently say that she is better placed to train someone like you with a Wild Gift for Mindhealing artifact-work than anyone else I have ever heard of. My organization's work is highly confidential, and so I would rather not say too much more until you have made a decision, but if you have specific questions then I can try to address them."  

"...original research in mage-work... avenues not best pursued in Rethwellan despite the presence of the University? I suppose if you're working with a lot of obscure gifts it might not be, there is a lot of academic disdain."

"Indeed. Also academic politics, which I find tiresome. And I was already based there, so it was logistically easiest to continue that." 

What does her emotional reaction seem to be, so far? 

Moderate suspicion, though not more than he usually gets this early in the pitch.

"Why do you believe your - coworker - to be uniquely qualified to help me?"

"For one, she is a highly expert Mindhealer, with better explicit understanding of her Gift and its workings than anyone else I have met. Nearly all Mindhealers are self-taught, as the Gift is rare enough that there are no formal academies and even apprenticeship is uncommon. She has experience teaching - albeit mostly not with that Gift, but many pedagogical skills would still apply. And she is a mage and has done artifact-work, so I think that she could help you analyze what your Wild Gift is doing, which most Mindhealers would not be able to do." 

Sufya nods reluctantly. "Those... are very meaningful qualifications. Hmm."

She thinks of something and laughs quietly. "The only other question I can think of is how does it pay, and I don't actually care about the answer. You wouldn't tell me if you were doing something awful, obviously; I don't have any actual objection to leaving Rethwellan; and you can't tell me what I'm agreeing to until I've agreed to it. So, fine. I'll leave Fana a note, she's selling my bloody Mindhealing hats in Petras and won't be back for a week. And - I can send letters, right, to my sisters? If I don't give too much detail?"

It's - kind of a relief that she's explicitly noting that it wouldn't be reasonable to expect him to tell her if he were doing something awful. Leareth doesn't like the fact that this is relevant, but given that it is, it's better for them to be on the same page without needing further awkward discussion. 

"Yes, of course." Leareth frowns. "Is it going to disrupt your stepmother's livelihood here, if you leave? I could provide some money to make up for your departure. - Oh, and I should pay for this hat. It is really quite an effective hat." 

"I suppose you could leave some coin. She's still got the remaining stock, and if she's sensible about it she can sell them off and retire, I really have been minting her money for five years... but I don't know how sensible she'll really be about it. And, yes, I suppose I can take one last transaction..."

She accepts a reasonable price for a very nice hat, and squirrels it away into the workings of the counter. "There. Whatever you'd like to leave to cover for my loss, I can toss it in there."

Leareth is not particularly strapped for cash; he brought enough to cover several weeks of travel, plus for eventualities exactly like this one. He hands over about fifty times the price of the hat without further comment. "This should make up for your absence for the next year or so, which is how long I estimate you will need for basic Gift-training. If you want to continue making hats while you study and sell them to my organization, we will of course pay a fair price for that as well." 

He pauses, frowning slightly. "Are you in fact happy to leave now, or would you rather have a chance to say your goodbyes face to face?" Leareth doesn't have a good read, yet, on her relationship with her stepmother and sisters, but it seems - maybe not that close? "If you wished," he adds, "we could make a stop by the mage-school that your sisters attend. Only if this is what you want, though." 

"...I would like to say goodbye to my sisters, if that's an option. I was - operating under the assumption it wasn't. How many Adepts do you - that's not the kind of detail you can give me. Speaking of which, would you rather I not tell them the real reason I'm leaving?"

"You are welcome to tell them that I offered you a place to study with a Mindhealer, somewhere far from here, and that you will stay in touch." None of what he's told her so far is likely to be specific enough to pose a risk, but if she's cooperative then he might as well play it safer. "I have no problem taking you to see them, if it is important to you. Where are they studying?" 

"The Academy in Petras. Fana planned to visit on her trip, but she said she'd be on her way back by now."

Nod. "Am I right in guessing that you might prefer not to explain your departure to her face-to-face?" 

"Yes."

(guilt guilt guilt)

"That certainly simplifies the logistics for me," Leareth says lightly. "I have a Gate-location conveniently close to the Academy, but locating someone on the road is much more costly. Anyway, how long do you need to pack and write a note? And would you prefer to wait until the end of the day when you would normally close the shop? I could go back to the inn and pack up my own belongings in the meantime." 

(Leareth has no intention of leaving her totally un-observed, but he is comfortable enough leaving her alone for a few candlemarks. He can put up some discreet wards, and he has enough Thoughtsensing range to keep an eye on her even from the inn; it's not a huge town.) 

"Frankly if you leave me alone until closing I'm half likely to drive myself mad, steal a horse, and ride to Valdemar, and then where would you be," she says drily. "I shouldn't need but a candlemark."

"Of course." Leareth stands up. "...You know, in the spirit of ensuring you know all of your options - you could go to Valdemar. They have five or six Mindhealers, currently, which is a higher prevalence than Rethwellan; you could apprentice to one of them, though I expect they are kept very busy and would have limited time to teach you, I believe that all of them are out traveling on circuit except for the King's Own, who has copious other responsibilities. And is also possible that you would be Chosen by a Companion as soon as you crossed their Border, I am not sure how you would feel about that." 

"...I can't claim it doesn't appeal, honestly. The ballads say it's very nice having a Companion. But I don't think you lied when you said your friend was better, and to be perfectly honest I doubt you'd so readily tell me my other options if your deal wasn't better."

Leareth smiles. "Indeed. I do want to point out that being a Herald is much less romantic than the ballads would make it out to be, and much more likely to consist of spending weeks riding between small towns with wet feet and listening to villagers' petty disputes. You - might like it anyway, but you would certainly not then be able to leave and seek training." 

He wishes he could offer her the assurance that if she did want to study with Nayoki and then leave and make her way in Valdemar, he would allow that. It's - complicated, though. It would be much safer to send her back to Rethwellan, and even that wouldn't be safe. 

And, of course, he's already hoping for much more than that. 

"Anyway. Do you mind if I have a look at some of the other hats while you are preparing?" 

"By all means."

And she heads off to write her goodbye note.

Fana,

I have left, after all these years, to seek my fortune. I am told that I have a Wild Gift, and the man who learned it wishes to teach me to use it properly. I have reason to believe him, and I cannot ignore the potential danger inherent in untrained magic.

I am sorry I couldn't tell you in person. The schedule is tight. We must leave before you return.

I recommend that you sell off the remaining stock, sell the building, and retire, rather than pushing Berta into my role. The shop will not live long without me.

You raised us well.

-Sufya

After that, she packs. A shawl, for the northern weather; she's certain to need more, but she likes this shawl. A knife for meals; a sewing kit; five dresses, three pair stockings, one pair boots.

One hat.

"Are you enchanted too, my dear?" she whispers. She puts it on and looks in the mirror.

A girl looks back - young, small, and boring. Her eyes try to skid off her own reflection.

She takes the hat off, and looks at it in her hands.

She tosses it into the corner, and hefts her bag, and heads out into the shoproom. "Ready," she tells Leareth.

Leareth is watching her when she tries on the hat. He frowns to himself, almost imperceptibly. 

"Yes. I am ready." 

He raises a Gate on the closed door of the shop, to a terminus commonly used by mage-students on the outskirts of the Academy's campus. Gates are frequent enough there that it won't be notable, and he's already fairly sure that there are no trained Adept mages in town to remark on the exact location of this end, or find it odd. 

From Sufya's perspective, it's notable that it takes Leareth less than two seconds from the first glow of magic until the completed Gate is up and ready. He offers her his arm. 

She stares, then takes his arm and hurries across.

"That's... impressive," she comments once they're through. "I've never seen one made so easily."

"I have more practice than most." 

He releases her arm once they're through, and dismantles the Gate just as efficiently; he doesn't look at all tired, despite the fact that it was over a hundred miles. "Well. We are here. Do you know the area or should I bring you somewhere in particular?" 

"...I'll probably have to ask the registrar, honestly, I've got no idea where they'd be. Presumably in their dormitories, but what do I know which dormitory is which."

"I can take you to the registrar's office." It's kind of convenient, actually. He can check his mail. 

It's about a five-minute walk, along a paved and well-swept path through some very nice gardens, pretty even in late winter with the snow melting into puddles and mud. Leareth won't try too hard to make conversation, but he's opening to answering Sophie's questions if she brings any up. 

She's mostly just looking around. "It's a pity it isn't later in the year," she muses. "Lete and Marya must have told me about the lily gardens every time they bloomed, ever since they left home."

"Maybe you will have a chance to visit again. I am generally here several times a year."

Leareth knows a lot about the area, and can add some commentary, since it seems that Sophie has never been here before. 

They reach the registrar's office. "Do you need help with anything else?" Leareth asks Sophie. "I have a couple of errands I should complete while I am here." 

"No, I'll be alright. Should we meet back here in a candlemark, will that give you enough time?"

"Yes, it should." 

And he's going to keep an eye on her with Thoughtsensing and listen in via scrying if necessary, while he checks in with several of his local contacts and collects his mail. He's not expecting to have to intervene, but he does want to know what was said. 

Excitement excitement (nerves) happiness love!

Love love excitement happiness - mild irritation - love!

Mild irritation. Guilt! Severe irritation. Mounting anger.

"- glad you got out of the shop, but - Sufya, I don't like the sound of this. This man just walks into the shop and -"

Sufya grinding her teeth. "Marya, I'm not stupid. I wouldn't believe it if there wasn't evidence. And he's treating well with me."

"Like Fana treated well with you, practically locking you in that little apartment and working your fingers to bleeding?"

"Fana's your mother -" Sufya starts.

"And I'm enough like her to know when she's being horrid!"

"He - isn't. Like that."

"Well, that's good to know. What about the fifteen thousand other ways a man can be a bastard?"

"He's helping me."

"You could get help that won't come with some mystery price twenty miles down the road!"

Sufya getting to her feet. "This was a mistake."

"Oh, don't -"

A door slamming.

"Sufya, please-"

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. Anger. Guilt.

Leareth will be ready and waiting for her back at the registrar's office, with absolutely no indication on his face that he overheard any of that. 

She approaches him and pauses to glance at a nearby timed candle. 

"Quick errands," she says blandly. "I suppose I was the one who suggested a candlemark."

"I finished a while ago, I did not exactly have to go far." He holds up the satchel of mail. "Are you ready to go now?" 

She swallows past an obvious lump in her throat and nods. "Thank you for bringing me here," she says. "Hopefully I can come back some time."

Leareth wishes he could reassure her - both that it's reasonable to be worried, and also that, in fact, she's going to be fine - but he doubts there's any sequence of words he could say that would actually convey it. She has no reason, yet, to take what he says at face value. 

He's a bit preoccupied while walking back to the Gate-archway, though hopefully that can be attributed to something he read in his mail. 

The second Gate also goes up in about two seconds, and Leareth hustles Sufya across and takes it down as efficiently as he can. It's almost fifteen hundred miles, and he turns paler for a moment and leans on the wall to catch his breath. He wasn't expected back so soon, which means that someone should be here very soon to check in. And then Nayoki will have to Gate over, because obviously he wasn't about to bring Sufyia directly to his secure research facility. 

"Welcome," he manages. 

They've stepped out of an elegant blind stone archway, into a stone corridor. It's very clean and well-lit by mage-lights, with a rug on the floor; it nonetheless gives off the strong impression of being deep underground. 

Sufya immediately goes to support him as he leans, almost on reflex.

That's thoughtful of her. Leareth manages a brief, appreciative smile. 

He recovers quickly; there's a node nearby to draw on, and by the time two of his staff from this location arrive to investigate the Gate, he's standing unaided. 

"This is Sufya Milin, from Rethwellan," he says. "She is Mindhealing-Gifted and I would like her to meet Nayoki." 

The mage who just caught up blinks at him. "- Is that a new hat? It...suits you." 

"Sufya makes very fine hats." 

Sufya bows to the new arrivals. "Hello. - he poached me from my stepmother's hat shop, it was all part of the process. And it does suit him."

He looks at Leareth. 

Looks at the hat. 

- looks at the hat with mage-sight. It's not magical. 

"....I have questions but I'm guessing it makes sense for you to answer them once Nayoki is here. Any other logistics that need to be sorted out?" 

"Can you set her up with a guest room and show her around the library, please? I want to speak to Nayoki privately once she arrives." 

The mage nods. 

"My name is Alrin," he says to Sufya. "Do you need help carrying anything?" 

Sufya really isn't carrying much. She hefts her bag higher on her shoulder and shakes her head. "No, I'm fine. Lead the way, I suppose."

She is so curious about the private conversation Leareth wants to have with Nayoki, but if she's in a spy story, which is her life now, she had better get used to feeling curious about things and picking her battles on what she investigates. Curiosity will not kill her; eavesdropping might.

Leareth's mage is mostly not chatty. He walks her down the hallway, through a heavy wooden door that he appears to unlock using magic, down another hallway, up some narrow but thoughtfully carpeted stone stairs, and into a different hall, narrower and slightly less thoroughly lit but less austere. It's still clearly underground, but there are soft tapestries on the wall, and the row of narrow doors have artful carvings of leaves and berries and look much more decorative and less thoroughly-reinforced. 

There end of the hall is cut off by a curtain, rather than a door. Alrin calls out - not in Rethwellani, the language is unfamiliar to Sufya - and pattering footsteps precede a young woman stepping out, answering him in the same foreign tongue. 

Alrin turns back to Sufya. "We can give you a private room, but need a few minutes to get it ready. Would you like to wait in the library?" 

"Certainly, wherever's convenient."

She wonders if she's going to be learning that language. Maybe she should ask. No she shouldn't, it'd be presumptuous. If someone needs her to learn a language they'll tell her.

"- what would you recommend I start reading, if I'll be in the library anyway?" she asks instead. "Is there - a handbook, a manual or something, that can get me on my feet in... this organization?"

That gets her a surprised and mildly impressed look. 

(The answer is that, yes, there are a number of handbooks, and all of them are rated for a particular level of secrecy and he has no idea what Sufya is or isn't approved for, and also none of them are exactly going to be sitting around in a low-security library.)

"I think there are some texts on Mindhealing," he offers instead. "The organization schema is fairly intuitive, but there's also an index on the desk." 

"- oh! That does also sound like a good idea."

Follow follow follow to the library where she can learn more about this strange unheard-of magic that she's apparently been doing to people for years without noticing.

The indexing system isn't completely obvious, but the index book is helpful, and she can turn up around a third of a shelf of books on Mindhealing. Three of them are in Rethwellani: one very old-looking reference texbook, one slimmer and more recent treatise on the ethics of using the Gift, and one on 'experimental Mindhealing techniques'. 

...ethics. Definitely ethics.