Mirrored from Sythyry.
Eitharheinen (my ~mother~, and Hezimikkinen’s ~father~, among other things) lives in a curved horn tower, remarkably like a horn of a bull that has been expanded by very potent Corpador magic to a size in which Herethroy — not merely Zi Ri, but Herethroy — can live in it as a many-story tower. Eitharheinen likes to give this impression. It is somewhat accurate.
Me: “Hallo, ~mother~. Might we stay here for the night? I have a bit of a story to tell.”
Eitharheinen: “O Herethroy minstrel, I am afraid you have the advantage of me … actually, you’re not a Herethroy minstrel. You’re shapeshifted. What are you really?”
Me: “I’m Sythyry” I broke the Shape of Another God that was making me look so buggy.
Eitharheinen: “By the glittering of Hren Tzen’s eyes! Sythyry, coming to visit me! Come in, come in!”
After a few embraces and pleasantries, zie noted the sponge-wrapped body.
Eitharheinen: “And who is this?”
Me: “Nangbang, of the Temple of the Dark Trinity in Oorah Thrassen. He’s a bit space-sick; not used to extensive teleporting.”
Eitharheinen: “Ah. He does not look well.”
Me: “In my opinion as a master-healer…” (If your parent eternally doubts your competence, as mine does, it never hurts to remind zir of your collection of guild-masterships. Not that that makes up for never graduating from the Academy.) “… he looks worse than he is. Have you tincture of elstromizarde at hand?”
Eitharheinen: “I suspect not, but I shall send for the village healer, who probably will. In the meantime, the servants shall put him to bed, and we shall talk.”
In fact, there was some at hand; it is used to treat a certain common but annoying fungal infestation of the Herethroy carapace, and Eitharheinen is served mainly by Herethroy. So I gave Nangbang a suitable dose, and told some Herethroy servants to put him into a bed with as many heavy blankets as could be managed, and a heavy log on either side of him for extra solidity. And if dry beans or grain could be sewn in sacks of five or ten pounds, several of those should be set spaced six inches apart along his body. The pressure would do him good — in effect, somatically reminding him that he is no longer being teleported around. (Yes, it helps even if the patient is being teleported around, bed and logs and beanbags and all.)
Financial Advice of Eitharheinen
I explained my doom of the last few months to ~mother~. There was no real alternative to doing so. Zie hears about such things sooner or later, and best if I get to explain my side of them first.
Eitharheinen: “So, your accountant embezzled the bank account containing your entire fortune, and scattered it up and down the main trunk?”
Eitharheinen: “I have some well-intended parental advice, which you are compelled by filial piety and/or guestly piety to listen to and nod your head about as if you agree.”
Me: “I shall then listen and nod!”
Eitharheinen: “First of all, why on wood do you have your money in a bank?”
Me: “It is the Bank of Teleporting Hexagons — the very bank which you arranged to give me my stipend when I first went to Vheshrame. I have kept the same accounts; they work well.”
Eitharheinen: “Sythyry, are you foolish, ignorant, or simply lazy?”
Me: “I am too foolish and lazy to manage more than one of those! And too ignorant to think of the other two!”
Eitharheinen: “Don’t attempt such bons mots; you are not very good at it. Banks are well-suited for the transmission of money from here to there, for the provision of loans and mortgages, and for various acts of commerce and financial arrangement. Such as, say, giving a detailed stipend to one’s beloved but extremely young and devastatingly naïve offspring. They are not a place to keep your money for centuries on end! You are aware that they charge fees for holding and protecting money?”
Me: “Well, of course I am.”
Eitharheinen: “You are aware, then, than you have been paying a great deal for the privilege of putting your money in a place from which it can be fairly easily embezzled?”
Me: “Um, I suppose so…”
Eitharheinen: “There are a pawful of sensible things to do with large amounts of money. Spend them on things of immediate use or pleasure! Purchase or commission arts, fountains, buildings, public monuments, public festivals! But — and this above all — purchase land! Estates outside of the city! Lots and homes inside the city! Land remains valuable forever; land cannot be stolen or nibbled away; land can provide income of its own! The Zi Ri who has less than half of zir hoard in land is an utter fool!”
Me: “That would be me, then.”
Eitharheinen: “That would be you, my imprudent and immoral child. Don’t expect me to give you cley every time you’re out!” [or: "Don't expect me to pull your chestnuts out of the fire every time!", though that metaphor doesn't work very well for fireproof Zi Ri. -bb]
Me: “You have not done! I have not asked! I have salvaged my own hoard, less fees and bribes.”
Eitharheinen: “True. This time. If it had been in land, there would have been no need to salvage it.”
Me: “Hmph. I do, in fact, get land! I have recently acquired a very nice mansion in Eigrach!” Which I have not seen twice, and do not actually want, but never mind that.
Eitharheinen: “Somewhere to move to, to escape the excellent parental advice?”
Me: “No, but sometime Eigrach will be an old and mighty city, and I shall still have a very nice — if very old-fashioned — mansion there.”
Eitharheinen: “Excellent! You should be doing more of that!”
(I probably could, at that… I could make a wide tour of the lower branches, and hint that cities could have a great Ketherian wizard move there for a minor bribe of real estate. In case my reputation ever gets too good despite the transaffection, I suppose.)