As Erwing said, one could smell the harbor before one could see it. Nikolas supposed he had been too entranced by the dragon on the gates and the crush of people to take in any smells. Now that he was familiar, and the crowd was thinning, he could smell it. Salt and fish and things that were left out too long in the sun. They must have been left out for a truly long time because the ice and the cold had some preservative effects did they not?

"Where did all the people go?" Nikolas remarked, looking around. There were people, but they weren't pushing and scrambling over each other like they did when he first came with Sanice.

They were still in the nicer parts of town, the houses were brick, and their chimneys pumped out clouds of smoke. There was a warm fire inside, Nikolas knew, and a family around them. A family very much like his own, once upon a time. He resisted the urge to look in, partly because he didn't want to see what his family used to be like, or to have the illusion shattered if he saw something... else. Deep in his head he knew, had the memories of the last day with Diase, and how she and Aldeim had shouted at each other. That was a thing he never liked to think about. It hadn't been the raised voices, or the faces of his parents contorted into something he couldn't recognize, or his siblings standing red faced and silence in the background. No, what made him jolt up at night was the silent carriage ride to his father's home in Befeld.

Their house in Befeld was made of sturdy oak, not brick, and the sight of so many of them, styled just like his old home but not quite... He swallowed hard, and asked, louder, "Where did all the people go?"

"It's not marketday," said Erwing. "Haven't you ever been to a proper one?" When Nikolas shook his head he said, "You're not missing much. The only day worth seeing in Prebovna is the festival. But they don't host them that often anymore."

The older man refused to say why when Nikolas asked. This made him frown, was it one of those questions that one had to rephrase to make it easier to answer? So he tried again, "Which festivals did you use to celebrate?"

This earned him a grin, which showed three missing front teeth. "Now you are asking. They are all the old festivals before the Prophets had their new dictive."

Again that explained nothing to him. "Did they not agree with the old festivals?"

"Precisely," said Erwing. "And you should learn to ask your questions better boy. Didn't Aldeim teach you? One should know how to eat and talk, to give and receive."

If he were to be an old man, Nikolas thought, fuming, he did not want to be Erwing who seemed to dabble in riddles and rhymes. "What do you mean?"

"Just means exactly what it means," said Erwing. "Eating isn't just eating, you know. Didn't you do it yourself when you sat with us?" At Nikolas's befuddled look Erwing said, "When you sit down and eat with someone you share their table and you ought to be polite. I say ought, sometimes you don't need to, but it's the spirit of the whole thing. And if you sit down to eat and notice someone's hungry, it's only human to do something about it, is it not?"

"I know what 'to talk' means, you don't need to explain it," Nikolas said before the other man could open his mouth.

But a part of him didn't mind, he liked Erwing and how the man set out the examples to him. Of course he knew his manners, but it was nice to know that he did do the right thing last night. He wanted… he wanted to be welcomed. Erwing confirmed it. Nikolas swallowed the grin threatening to break across his face. So he wasn't a complete useless fool.

"Then explain what it is," said Erwing and when Nikolas opened his mouth to recite it. "And not with Aldeim's words."

"I don't know," Nikolas blinked, now flummoxed. "I mean, you talk, right? So… so you should be careful with your words and when to say them."

"Right, and you have to ask yourself why you want to say the things you are saying," said Erwing. "Sometimes you want to ask a question, questions are fine, but consider, who are you asking them to? Would they give you the truth?"

"Why wouldn't they—" Nikolas began and stopped himself. "I mean… no one has lied to me before."

That only made Erwing laugh, "Yet," the old man choked out, "Yet, young Nikolas, yet."

"And you're going to tell me that giving and receiving is about presents," Nikolas sniffed. "I know how to give those too, and yes, I know sometimes people don't give you anything in return."

"That is part not quite the full answer," said Erwing, but he didn't sound cross or jesting. "It is asking you, what do you want to give to the world, and what you would like to receive in return."

"From who?" Nikolas demanded, wide-eyed and nearly walking into a barrel. Erwing grabbed him by the collar and pulled him out just in the nick of time.

"Depends on who you ask. I'm sure Jaufre would go on and on about his favorite patrons, and how much he loves to be showered in their affection, and what music he's gifted to their ears and to the world."

The man was avoiding answer it himself, Nikolas thought, and while he desperately wanted to demand 'what about you then? how would you answer it?' he decided to swallow the question. It would be foolish to ask Erwing when the man had just given him a round about lecture on choosing one's words.

"What do you want then?" said Erwing, and he held out both hands, palms up. "You're about the age where you get apprenticed and am looking for a trade. What are you looking to give and receive from the world?"

"I don't know," Nikolas said honestly, looking anywhere but at Erwing. The lanterns were being lit now, and looking down from the road they were walking on he could see the pin-pricks of light. "I don't know. I... I want to do something. By myself. I don't want to..." he shook his head, why was he confessing to a near stranger? "I don't know!"

To his surprise, Erwing gave him a knowing sort of half-smile. "That is a rather hard question you know. Most people go their entire lives without answering it."

Now they were definitely near the harbor, there were the crunching of fish bones and shellfish under his boots, he could smell the cheap liquor, sweat and salt. Prebovna was not built on a natural harbor, he knew, and could recite it in his sleep. Prevobna was a dragon-made harbor with dragon forged walls built deep into the sea. It served both as protection and defense and had never been breached by pirates. Brytha's book had stopped there so Nikolas didn't bother to learn more. Besides, dragons were extinct, they all perished during one of the Great Wars. There were plenty of them, but after a certain time Brytha was no longer interested in learning about them. So he as a result, was never taught about them.

How had the dragons even built the walls, they did not have hands. He scoffed, it was one of those questions he would never find the answer to. But this one he supposed, he could from Erwing.

"Then why do you need to be taught this?"

"Sometimes it's good to have a think about your place in the world," said Erwing, cheerfully. "And if you don't like it, you see, you can always pay to have said thought removed." He pointed towards the taverns for emphasis. "What does your friend look like and what name does he go by?"

Apparently Erwing's method involved going to one of the owner's children playing nearby, a girl around Anni's age and inquiring if she knew which tavern the men of the Mastachkas favored. When the girl made to frown, Erwing reached into his pouch and offered a wooden figurine, a little carved deer. Her eyes widened then, but she said, with all shrewdness.

"It's a mama deer, where's the fawn?"

"Clever lass," said Erwing, and with that negotiation finished she pointed them towards a battered sign with a bottle and sprig of rosemary.

"How do you know she would know?"

"Out of all the other girls?" Erwing shrugged. "Her mother owns the fancier tavern, didn't you see the look of it? They don't just come to such taverns by accident you know."

"Is this like how Senice told me not to use scribes and write my own letters?" said Nikolas, deciding to test if he was right.

"See?" Erwing's smile was bright, "You are not so bad at this!"

He threw open the door to the tavern and they had to duck as a flying shoe came hurtling towards them.

"A fine establishment," said Erwing approvingly, making his way towards an empty seat. "Come and find me before sundown will you? Or if you don't I will assume you've made your way back to our wagon." Then he waved at the nearest man carrying two pitchers of beer and shouted his request.

Nikolas was left staring at the chaos in the room. He rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was indeed seeing two people fencing, and another three in a a brawl. One of the three was missing a shoe, the other one could only have just flown right by their heads earlier. Where on earth would he fine Tino in this mess?

He glanced around, then decided a methodological approach was necessary. Table by table, he looked for the straggly hair and unkempt uniform and all too loud laugh. When that didn't work, because there was nothing more boring to a drunk man than sitting still, he resigned himself to wandering table by table, calling out Tino's name. By the ninth table he had given up, until a someone tapped his shoulder and he was spun around to face a beaming Tino.

"Nikolas! What a—" a loud burp, "surprise! I knew you'd come around!"

"To where?" Nikolas said wryly, unimpressed.

Tino only looked slightly cleaner than when Nikolas had seen him last. He'd taken a bath, that was certain, or at the very least, ran a comb through his hair. Maybe that was why Nikolas couldn't recognize him, and he resolved to tell Tino that he either had to keep his appearance the same or inform Nikolas when he was going to change it entirely.

"Guess who was so nice to spot me some coin," said Tino, and he pulled a surly looking youth towards Nikolas, "Ardich! The Goddess will be so kind to your generous soul!"

Tino looked too drunk to walk yet he somehow managed an impromptu, forced waltz with Ardich. The other boy looked entirely unimpressed and when they passed a chair, immediately steered Tino to sit on it. The latter promptly collapsed face first onto the table.

"Right," said Ardich, brushing off his rather spotless uniform. He gave Nikolas an embarrassed look, his face flushing red. He adjusted the collar of his uniform, and then held out a hand, "How nice to meet you, Nikolas. Would you like a—" he stared at Tino, and Nikolas could swear the other man was snoring, "— a less stronger drink?"

"Should we help him back?" Nikolas said, rushing over and tentatively tapping Tino's shoulder. "Is he really that drunk?"

"Only a little," said Ardich pulling a chair and sitting down next to Tino. There was a half empty mug there and he sniffed it before downing the contents. "We can wait and if he's not awake in, I don't know, half an hour, we'll help him back."

There was a white dragon on his uniform sleeve, Nikolas observed, and, seeing as he did have plans with Tino to visit the upper levels of Prebovna, decided to probe a little more. He hoped the other boy didn't divulge their plans, if Tino was this... uncontrollable then that would be a problem. Even he, as new as he was to the city, knew that there would be consequences for going where he wasn't supposed to go.

"Are you with one of Mastachkas?" he asked, all innocence.

In response, Ardich shrugged and took another gulp from the cup in front of him. He flashed the sleeve in front of Nikolas and said, matter-of-factly, "Well, would anyone of them have this?"