Chapter 2

Such is the Ways of Artists

Eventually the seemingly random lines and swirls of Argyria's sketch took form and became yet another picture of the archmage. This time it wasn't based directly off any one scene from the stories of Raistlin Majere, but was one of her own impressionistic drawings. Dressed in his red robes, once the picture was eventually given a tint of color, Raistlin lay sleeping on a bed in some unnamed inn, his twin brother on a bed on the other side of the room. The Staff of Magius was propped next the sleeping mage, in easy reach as always should need arise.

On one side of the bed stood the young auburn-haired and blue-eyed child specter of the mage, dressed in white robes and holding a handful of rose petals. The child-Raistlin gazed down at his older form with a wistful expression that was piercing even in its youthful countenance; clearly contemplating how he had come to wear the red robes and questioning the often morally-shady decisions that had led to his strange appearance and path in life.

On the other side of the sleeping red-robed Raistlin was the black-robed specter of his future, thinned even further as his body burned feverishly hotter with the presence of his growing magic, holding a night-blue spell book in one hand. The last guise of the dark mage looked down at his younger self, who balanced on the brink of dark and light, with a conflicted expression of melancholy that also hinted at disdain for the lingering weaknesses he perceived the younger self to have.

Argyria was absorbed in her sketch, alternately adding shading to the eldest's face and velvet robes to add, respectively, contours and depth; and trying to capture a properly pensive expression within the youngest's eyes as he stood in silent vigil.

So deeply enmeshed in her sketch, Argyria didn't notice she had an audience until a voice broke her concentration.

"Dear little Ria," an amused and rumbling Russian accented voice, that spoke English near as fluent as a native, caused the young woman to jump and drop her pencil. "Our dear Maggie pays you to help watch the shop, yet a court's fool could have robbed half the shelves up here with bells a jingling and you would have been hard-pressed to explain what had happened, so concentrated on drawing you are. I have been standing here near five minutes watching you sketch and you have not noticed. That is a magnificent sketch as always, but you need concentrate on work when at work."

"Ivan! I suppose it would be obvious to say you startled me, but I will take that advice and try to remember not to lose myself in my pastimes." Argyria blushed in embarrassment, meeting the warm brown-eyed gaze of her paternal mentor.

Ivan Kursoff was a rather tall, later-thirties, average-built man with wavy dark-brown hair that was becoming streaked with snowy white in places. He kept his hair pulled back into a short ponytail, the narrow locks of white more prominent in such a fashion and accentuated the signs of aging in opposition to his otherwise still youthful face. Ivan was dressed in a pair of designer dress pants of deep blue, a crisp and pressed white shirt, with a silver-pinstriped black vest over the shirt. A jacket that matched his pants was neatly folded and resting over one arm. Ivan had a slender platinum chain around his neck, with a small crescent moon pendant engraved with Futhark runes along the edges. A thick bracelet of polished silver, Italian make and bearing an etched picture of a forest, was in place around his left wrist, a tan line showing when the hand moved because the bracelet was rarely removed. A teasing smirk was playing at his thin lips, which were surrounded by a close-cropped goatee, as Argyria bent down to retrieve her lost pencil and set it aside with her sketch pad.

Ivan opened his arms when Argyria made her way around the counter and wrapped her in a big bear-hug, giving the young woman an affectionate kiss on the top of her head.

"So you say," Ivan said in good humor as he did so, "but I know in a week or two, when the surprise admonishment has faded from your mind, we shall find you once more drawing your sketches of one sort or other, or writing away at your books. Such is the ways of artists as yourself, little one, and is to be almost expected."

"I suppose I am guilty as charged… Speaking of being focused on work, what brings you here? Shouldn't you be at your own job?" Argyria asked once released from the hug, glancing at the ceramic rose-decorated clock on the wall and seeing it was well after nine in the morning. Closer to ten in fact. She had spent over an hour sketching during the quiet time within the book shop.

"My first meeting is not until noon and I have all ready for the presentation, so I did not need be at the office until later this morning," Ivan replied with a shrug. "I thought I would stop in and see how Maggie and you were doing as I have not seen either of you in a few weeks and such a time is too long."

"I am glad you did," Argyria said. "I was beginning to wonder if you had become a hermit and were avoiding us.'

"No, no. Not avoiding," Ivan said in reassuring tones, giving a pensive smile. "Never avoiding, dear Ria. Just trying to keep up with work now that I am once more seeing an influx of potential clients and sellers and trying to allow things to entirely quiet themselves on other fronts."

"And things have in fact been quieting down to allow work to pick up?" Argyria asked with concern, taking a seat once more and Ivan sat down across from her on the spare stool.

"Indeed," the antique dealer agreed neutrally. "Gossip blows in, gossip blows out. People like to talk and the target of such talk changes as rapidly as the wind." Ivan gave Argyria another warm smile and took her hand in his own, giving it a comforting squeeze as he saw her worried expression not abating. "You need not look so worried, little Ria. All is nearly back to normal and well. It would take more than idle chatter amongst foolish colleagues to cause lasting damage. I am quite hopeful at the prospective sales that may be made from today's meeting."

Argyria nodded, sensing the truth in Ivan's words, yet also that there was an underlying concern of his own in regards to the topic. She generally knew when not to press a topic when a person did not wish to speak of it, however. "I'm glad to hear things are quieting down and you've just been keeping busy. Can you perhaps tell me where 'Geny has gone off to? Maggie said last week that he was off on some job for the magazine, but she couldn't remember where, and I haven't heard anything since."

"Yevgeny is well enough," Ivan replied with a wider smile. "He returned a few days ago from a photo shoot in Beirut, excited to say that the pictures and article would be published in next week's press."

"Tell big brother I say congratulations on yet another successful shoot?" Argyria asked.

"I will indeed," Ivan agreed pleasantly. "It has been some time since that brother of mine has been home for more than a few days; we shall need see about dragging him out of hibernation and visiting with family before he jet-sets off for another adventure."

"That sounds like a great idea, Ivan," Argyria agreed, smiling at the thought. "If you can manage to rouse him, remind him to bring his camera? I'd like to see some of the new pictures he's taken."

"Of course!" Ivan agreed with a laugh. "He was showing me some pictures of the architecture in the oldest parts of the city that I think you would enjoy seeing and he would be happy as always to have his fellow artist to exclaim over them with. He has also brought home interesting finds he obtained during a side trip that I think will sell quite well once they are spruced up a bit. We will have to bring them by to show you and our dear Maggie."

"I'll look forward to it!"

"And speaking in turn of looking forward to things," Ivan said with a teasing grin, "how is our dear Ria looking forward to her birthday tomorrow?"

"You remembered it's my birthday despite being wrapped up in work and not visiting us for almost two weeks?" Argyria asked in mock surprise.

Ivan chuckled and nodded. "Indeed. How could I forget the big birthday is coming up? Have you made plans this weekend?"

"Tomorrow evening Darlene and Lexi and I are going out to dinner and the movies," Argyria replied. "They're sleeping over and we're going shopping Sunday morning with Janet, as they all want to take me out to an eighteen and up dance club later in the evening."

"Sounds like an exciting birthday weekend," Ivan said with an approving nod. "I am glad to hear that the girls will be keeping you busy with celebrations and I hope you will be safe while out at the club."

"I remember all the basic club rules 'Geny drilled me on when they took me out to the open ages club in Hampton for last 4th of July," Argyria replied with a nod of her own. She ticked off the rules on her fingers. "Don't go anywhere without Janet, Darlene and Lexi, especially isolated places like the bathroom. I'm not old enough to drink, but still watch my drink and preferably buy something with a closing lid like a bottle of water. If I accidentally leave it alone for even a minute, throw it out and buy a new one. It's worth the three dollars to make certain it's safe to drink. Lexi is driving us, but make certain we park someplace clearly visible and public to avoid being jumped. If someone bothers us, find the bouncers or call the police immediately."

"Good girl," Ivan said with another nod. "'Geny would be proud of you for remembering as well."

"I try my best to listen to good advice," Argyria said cheekily. "I just can't help it sometimes when my brain reverts back to teen attention span."

Ivan chuckled at that for several seconds. "For a teenager, you are doing very well with learning such lessons as needs to be learned." Ivan reached into his jacket and pulled a linen card-envelope from an inner pocket. "I must confess, dear little Ria, I had an ulterior motive in coming to visit this morning. One that, as it happens, relates to such topic as was just mentioned. And as it appears those celebrations you have plans for will not potentially damage the apartment, I think it safe to give the birthday girl this a day early."

Argyria took the envelope from Ivan with a curious look and, upon a nod from him, opened it.

Inside was a birthday card with an intricately embossed and hand-painted dove motif. A set of papers, folded in thirds, was resting within and peeking out the top and bottom of the card. Argyria opened the card, which was curiously blank inside, and then opened the papers to look at what was written.

A slender slip of paper fell out of the folded papers, which Ivan's quick reflexes caught because Argyria hadn't been expecting something within and missed catching it. He held the slip as she looked at the folded papers, reading what was written in Ivan's flowing script on a sheet of crème stationary and then flipped over to the legal documents beneath.

Argyria glanced up at Ivan with a wide smile, which he readily returned. "The apartment is officially mine?"

"Indeed," Ivan replied with a nod. "You'll be 18 tomorrow and you have proven you can handle the responsibility. I spoke with your landlord and he agreed to transfer the apartment into your own name." He held out the slip of paper that had fallen from the other papers. "While you have done well in caring for the apartment on your own and I am no longer accountable for such, and our dear Maggie is keeping you in steady employ, I request you take this and place it in reserve just in case something drastic should happen and you are in need of a fallback."

Argyria took the check and glanced down at it, eyes widening at the sum written.

An even twenty grand, which was more than three years rent on the small apartment.

After a few false starts, surprise making her brain have a hard time telling her mouth how to work, Argyria managed to get out the words, "Ivan! I can't accept this!"

Ivan chuckled in good humor at her reaction. "It is not all that much, Argyria. I spend far more on but a suit out of necessity to keep up with my associates' and competitions' senses of style. And considering that you have spent near a year and a half in your apartment and not once asked for aid in the rent, despite my name being on the lease first, and you now having to pay for college supplies as well, I think the money well spent in making certain this positive track you are on continues without disruption."

When Argyria tried to protest again, Ivan held up his hand to cut her off. "While we all plan to be around for many more years within loved one's lives, and to be available at every critical moment, we can never know what happens. I want you to have such on hand, which is truly no hardship for me, as I know such could make a difference should sudden need arise and I am for some reason unable to aid you. Something could happen to Maggie's shop and leave you out of work. Something could happen to your apartment and force you to seek other safe housing. Something could happen to you to make you unable to work for a time. Any number of things…"

"'Butterfly Effect' theory?" Argyria interrupted cheekily, trying to cover for the current internal debate warring

"Just so, little Ria," Ivan agreed seriously, but with a small smile forming. "See, you do pay attention to all your lessons and so I know you know what I am speaking of. And while you balance all your bills with more responsibility than most your age, you are still only balancing right now and a single event could send it all toppling. I know your biological family would not be there to aid you. Should something happen that myself or Maggie or Yevgeny or, Gods above forbid, all three of us, are for some reason not immediately available to help you, I worry who you could turn to in such an event. I trust you to be responsible with such funds and save it as intended for the proverbial 'rainy day'."

Ivan could see Argyria was torn between prideful desire to refuse the check still, as she was as independent as she could manage to be at her age; and a desire not to be rude when faced with a genuine show of concern, which was something those dear to her were still trying to work on her about accepting with graciousness.

Ivan added decisively, with an amused raised eyebrow, "I will not accept argument on this, dear little Ria, and I will be deeply offended should you attempt such as this is a birthday gift for a hardworking young woman who is dear to many. It is not a charity handout that was unearned and at risk of being wasted away."

Argyria set the card, papers and check down on the counter and got up from her stool to give Ivan another hug, tears in her eyes. Ivan returned the hug just as tightly, giving her a brief kiss on the top of her head.

"Thank you, Ivan," Argyria said with a hitch in her voice, deeply grateful to the mentor who had been a father to her in all but blood over the last few years. "For everything you've done to help and for believing in me, even when it hasn't been so easy."

Ivan smiled again and gave her a wink. "Of course, little Ria. You have always been easy to believe in. Outside factors are not relevant to the thought." Ivan glanced down at his watch and noted the time. "It is still early and the shop is quiet enough this morning. Why do we not ask our dear Maggie if she will let you take a short walk to the bank with me to deposit that check safely away and stop for a coffee at Riverwalk on the way back?"

"That sounds like an excellent idea," Argyria agreed, picking up the card and papers and following Ivan downstairs.

Maggie had no qualms with allowing Argyria to make a quick run to the bank. The shop owner gave Argyria her paycheck for the previous week's work to deposit as well and waved the two out the door, asking them to bring her back her favorite blackberry and almond cappuccino from the café when they returned.

Ivan visited with Argyria and Maggie for an hour after returning from the bank and coffee run, and then left to make it to his office in time for his meeting. Argyria and Maggie were kept relatively busy as customers entered the store at a slow but constant trickle. When lunch time rolled around, Maggie treated them to pizza from the shop next door and thick, rich chocolate milkshakes from the other shop a few buildings down.

The two women were just portioning out slices of barbeque chicken, feta and spinach pizza (a house specialty of the shop) onto paper plates when the little silver bell attached to the front door chimed cheerily.

Argyria and Maggie both looked over to greet their customer, but their expressions fell and darkened when they saw who had stepped into the shop.

A young man of twenty years, dressed in khaki shorts and a polo shirt that was an ostentatious bright orange and fit closely to his athletic frame. His short, frosted-blonde hair was styled back from his face in a fashion that reminded one of Draco Malfoy from the Harry Potter series. His full lips twisted into a smirk as he saw Maggie and Argyria looking at him warily and he strode over to the counter with cocky ease, as though he owned the shop.

"Good afternoon, ladies!"

"James." Maggie said that one word with a clipped tone that was unnatural to the usually sweet-tempered older woman.

"What are you doing here, Garrison?" Argyria asked bluntly, her silver-grey eyes narrowed.

James cocked his head slightly, smirk not abating, as his gaze leisurely traveled down Argyria and then back up. "I'm just here to wish you a 'Happy Birthday', Ria," the young man replied in sickeningly saccharine tones. "I was hoping you would accept an offer to join me for dinner tonight."

"I'd rather be dipped in boiling oil," Argyria replied without hesitation, displeasure growing.

"That's hardly civil, Ri-ri," James replied, seeming unfazed by the refusal as he leaned comfortably against the counter. "Here I am, taking time out of my busy schedule, driving all the way up from Mass, all to extend a friendly hand to my favorite lady, and you're trying to bite it off."

"Perhaps because I know you've really got a dagger hidden up your sleeves and are just waiting for the chance to stab me in the back."

James chuckled at the scathing response and held up his hands, glancing at them. "As you can see, I'm not wearing sleeves, so no hidden daggers," he replied smoothly. "So how about you let bygones be bygones and come out to dinner with me?" The young man glanced at the pizza box and said, "I promise I'll bring you out somewhere nicer than pizza to celebrate your milestone birthday."

"I'm quite happy with my pizza," Argyria replied, silvery gaze as sharp as an aforementioned dagger. "And I already have plans for my birthday, so my own busy schedule can't spare the time. You made your offer, I refused, so go away Garrison."

"So feisty, Ria," James taunted. "I do so admire that about you sometimes. But this is really no way to treat an old friend who tries to look out for you…"

"James," Maggie interrupted sharply. "Ria has made it clear she still does not wish to associate with you. Please leave my store or I will call the police for trespassing."

James snorted back a laugh, clearly not the least concerned, and glanced around the bookstore before turning a disdainful smirk on Maggie. "Your little store is open to the public, Maggie, and it's posted business hours," he retorted, posture straightening as he pulled away from the counter. "I'm not trespassing by stopping in to chat with a friend."

"When that person no longer wishes to be friends," Maggie replied, edge to her voice not abating, "it is not only trespassing, it could be an additional charge of harassment. If it was really desired to be pushed, there could be a restraining order as well. Even a pre-law student such as yourself should know that much could easily be pressed."

James's cocky smile wavered slightly, but didn't disappear. His blue-eyed gaze went back to Argyria. "My number is still the same, Ri-ri. Give me a call when you're tired of slumming it and I will be more than happy to take you out for a good time to remind you of what you are missing out on."

And with that, James turned on a heel and strutted out of the store.

Both women watched through the large front windows as the young man hopped over the door of his Porsche, convertible top down for the pleasantly warm day. He turned the engine on and backed out of the parking spot with music blaring from his speakers.

"Cocky, self-absorbed, silver-spoon-fed, trust fund reprobate!" Argyria said furiously, still glaring at the retreating figure as his car streaked through the parking lot and darted onto the street.

Maggie patted the teenager's shoulder gently and tried to give a sympathetic smile. "Some guys just don't know when to call off the hunt. But he'll eventually get bored and move on to some other girl he deems a potential trophy. Try not to let him bother you so much, Ria."

"That's just it, though, Maggie!" Argyria stamped her foot in frustration and gestured angrily towards the door. "He knows full well my family and I are not associating with one another! I have had nothing to do with them for three years! And yet he's still treating me like some little vapid society harlot to hunt down!"

"You may not have anything to do with them, but you're still of their line and your father has never signed any papers to legally disown you," Maggie said with a shrug, turning to the pizzas to finish serving them onto the plates. "I'm sure the Garrisons' are still filling his cotton-stuffed head with ideas of what it could do for their family for him to marry a Metaxas. Especially with you being in a vulnerable state and on the brink of legal adulthood as you are now."

"I'm not in a vulnerable state!" Argyria argued vehemently. "I'm in a rather secure state, all things considered. I have my own place. I have a stabile job. I'm in college. I have good friends. I have you and Ivan and big brother. There's nothing wrong with my life right now!"

"You and I know that," Maggie said patiently to the young woman, handing Argyria her slices of pizza. "But you know how your biological family, his family, and the other Country Club lemmings think. Their opinions are otherwise and they are always hungry for making greater names and connections for themselves. And family aside, it is not as though you're unattractive, physically or in any other aspect of being a young lady. It might take a few more times of turning him down now that you're an adult, but eventually he'll realize you're not interested in being a trophy girlfriend, and wife when he eventually passes the bar, and he'll go find someone else to bother."

"Sooner rather than later!" Argyria said heatedly. "I hadn't heard from him in months and almost dared to hope the jerk had given up! How could he think I would just forget what he and his parents did and accept his invitation for dinner?! He just had to come popping back in again and ruin a perfectly good morning! Gods above! That yuppie jerk ruins everything whenever given half a chance! I swear he exists just to make my life miserable!" Argyria looked at the plate of pizza in her hands and gave a disgusted sigh, setting it on the counter. "I'm going to go finish a sketch I started this morning," the teenager said quickly, grabbing her milkshake and heading towards the stairs.

"Aren't you going to take your lunch with you, Ria?" Maggie called after her in concern.

"I've lost my appetite, sorry," Argyria replied without turning around. "I'll probably come back down for it later, once the foul stench of Garrison has aired out."

"Argyria…" Maggie persisted.

"I'm sorry, really, Maggie, but I don't want to talk about it anymore right now and I'm really not hungry," Argyria's irritated voice echoed back as she hastened up the stairs.

The older woman shook her head, gazing above the half-circle lens of her glasses to where the younger woman had retreated. Maggie's gaze went to the abandoned pizza and then the door where the interloper had come in through.

Giving an irritated sigh of her own, the Welsh woman shook her head again as she set the second paper plate back in the pizza box to keep the lunch from going stale. Maggie nibbled at her pizza absently, gaze occasionally going back towards the stairway as she contemplated her young apprentice, and the situations that were causing such flare-ups of distress.

An hour, and a few customers, later, Argyria finally made her way back to the downstairs level of the little bookshop. The teenager gave her mentor a sheepish smile when Maggie looked up from the book she was reading.

"I'm sorry I was being such an emo teen earlier, Maggie," Argyria said in sincere apology.

Maggie smirked and shook her head, putting her bookmark in her book and setting it on the counter. "I understand, Ria," she said patiently. "Are you hungry now?"

Argyria's stomach answered for her, rumbling loudly at the mention of food. The older woman's chiming laugh followed as Argyria's normally pale face turned a brilliant pink in embarrassment.

"Just call me Miaka," Argyria said bashfully, referencing the manga, Fushigi Yuugi. "My stomach makes all the final decisions."

"And you even have her lovely reddish hair," Maggie teased. "Though yours is a fair bit longer and we'd need to get you hazel-green contacts for a proper cosplay."

"Ick, contacts." Argyria shuddered at the thought of sticking something in her eye. "On the subject of long hair, though…" the younger woman said as she took the stool next to her friend and accepted the plate of lukewarm pizza. "I was actually thinking that maybe I might have Darlene cut my hair this weekend. You know, something new to mark the big birthday."

"What sort of cut would you get?" Maggie asked curiously.

"I don't know," Argyria said with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. "I get so frustrated sometimes with it being so long. I always have to be careful to not let it get tangled up, and sweep it out of the way so I don't sit on it. It gets hot and irritating in the summer, and styling it in an up-do can be bothersome at this length. I was almost thinking I might just have her chop it all off and have some sort of short pixie haircut that's all spiky."

"Eh…" Maggie couldn't help the grimace of disagreement.

"What?!"

"I don't think such a hair style would suit you, debate of you being fey-born or not aside."

"Why not?" Argyria asked indignantly. "A bunch of people in my classes keep saying my Rapunzel hair makes me look even more like a kid. I thought something shorter and more stylish might help with the grown-up image now that I'm supposed to be an adult and all."

"I think your hair suits you just fine as it is," Maggie said with a smile. "It frames your face well with the way Darlene keeps it layered in the front. A shorter haircut might work with your delicate features, but it would be too 'punk' for your gypsy fashion sense. Not to mention, you'd have to put all sorts of time into styling it every morning to achieve that spiky look. Possibly longer than it takes to simply brush it out as you do take the time to braid it every night. You'd also have to have frequent haircuts afterwards to keep up the look. If you wanted to grow it back out, you would have to have different, and difficult to manage, hairstyles while it grew."

"Fair points," Argyria conceded. Her enthusiasm for the idea quickly deflated at the prospect of having to do more than brushing her hair out and possibly adding a hair piece to make it look presentable. Or going through an 'ugly hair' stage as it grew back out if she decided she didn't like having short hair.

The teenager ate a few bites of pizza and then smirked. "Well, I have another idea of how to ring in the big eighteen with minimal fuss after the fact."

"Oh?" Maggie asked, looking at Argyria with a raised eyebrow because she recognized the mischievous tone.

"I could always get a tattoo."

"Oh gods above help us!" Maggie exclaimed, shaking her head. "If you get a tattoo this weekend, I will put you under house arrest until these whims have had a chance to work themselves out."

"It's not that crazy of an idea!" Argyria protested. "Darlene got one on her 18th birthday, and she's gotten four others since. They're mostly hidden away and really cute. You've even said the Labyrinth ones on her back are adorable."

"And what sort of tattoo would you get, Miss I'm-Now-An-Adult?"

"I don't know," Argyria said honestly, giving another shrug. "That I hadn't actually thought out. I just had the idea hit me five seconds before saying it."

Maggie rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Well I hope the thought leaves your head as quickly as it flitted in. Tattoos last forever and many people end up regretting whatever they picked. Especially if the tattoo was done when they were young. Even if they don't regret it, the tattoos fade and become blurry over time. It'd be rather unsightly to have when you get to be my age."

"Another fair point." Argyria sighed and continued to munch her pizza. "'Geny's don't look bad though. He's had some of them for nearly two decades and the inks used are getting better made than they used to be."

"That's 'Geny though, not you," Maggie countered. "Just because your big brother does something doesn't mean you should. In fact, it is often a perfect indicator of what a young lady should not do." That frank rebuttal got a laugh from the younger woman. "And 'Geny still has almost a decade and a half to go before he reaches my age and starts having to worry about his tattoos looking not as nice as they once did. Even if blurry inks were not a concern, tattoos are permanent marks and should be considered with care before possibly committing yourself to such being embedded in your body for the rest of your life."

Argyria gave her mentor a curious look. "Maggie?"

"Yes, Ria?"

"Do you have a tattoo I don't know about?"

"No," Maggie said definitively. "I just have many friends my age who did get tattoos when they were young and I've seen what they look like now."

Argyria could sense Maggie was telling the truth and simply nodded.

"So why the desire to suddenly make a big change?" Maggie asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence. "You already have plans to celebrate your birthday for the weekend."

"Yeah. I know," the young woman said. She shrugged, yet again, but this time it was almost to herself. "I don't know, Maggie… I guess… I just feel like I've been acting like an adult the last few years already. As of tomorrow, I'll officially be an adult, but I don't feel like it's actually going to be any different. Going out aside, it's just another day."

"Well, in some ways, it is just another day," Maggie agreed candidly. "Legally, you will be an adult, but you've been one for all intents and purposes for a while now. The only difference is as of tomorrow you can legally be the sole name on your lease as Ivan arranged and are able to own your own property or get into a relationship with whomever you want. You could vote on elections and you could legally buy scratch tickets or cigarettes on your own. Although, I'd rather you didn't pick up the latter just to prove you're an adult now."

Argyria giggled at the last comment. "Not a chance. I don't want to sound like a frog by the time I'm thirty. Scratchy rumbling voice may work for adventuring rogues like 'Geny, or dashing actors like Jeremy Irons and Michael Wincott, but it's not so attractive for girls."

Maggie laughed and nodded in agreement. "Very true, and I am glad you realize that. But other than those little things, fey-child, tomorrow is just another day that marks the start of a whole new year of living." Maggie pointed at the younger woman for emphasis. "What you do with this new year, that is what helps build upon your already established foundation as an adult."

"Meh," Argyria said ambivalently. "Being a responsible adult sucks sometimes, Maggie. Maybe I'm part kender and Wanderlust is hitting. Perhaps I should buy a hoopak and go for a walkabout. Think you could give me a six month sabbatical on the grounds of mental health vacation?"

"Oh gods above," Maggie said between laughter at the flippant suggestion. "That would be a possibility, certainly. We would have to ask 'Geny to let you borrow a camera to take pictures of your travels. Or perhaps you could just accompany him on his photo shoots. Maybe he'd be more careful to keep himself out of trouble while he's out and about roaming the world if he has his little sister to be keeping in mind."

"He's careful enough as it is! I'm certain big brother and I would find many interesting places to explore and tell epic tales of adventure and intrigue of upon our return!" Argyria replied cheerfully. "My professors always say that writers need to live a bit to have material and experiences to draw from. A kender style walkabout, preferably without the prison detours, would certainly help give me material. Especially if 'Geny was playing tour guide."

Maggie continued to laugh in amusement and Argyria joined her, spirit in better shape again.