32nd of Ash, 4622
Vivian stood in the bookstore in Amoren, arms across his chest. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to focus on the titles. The place sold a hundred books to nobles, and while he didn't look like the exact picture of wealth, he wasn't being tossed out either. He pulled books down from the shelf occasionally, opening them and scanning the contents, then putting them back. Surprisingly books on Malformity were relatively rare despite being one of the oldest magics in the Empire. Books on artificing were much more common, but Vivian was having a hard time understanding them. He was relatively new to Artificing, a novice, and he pulled down a book on basic equations. He frowned at the mathematics.
"Gods, I need someone to teach me my numbers." He muttered under his breath, putting the book back in its slot on the shelf. He pulled one of the blacksmith puzzles he'd brought with him out of his pocket, toying with it in one hand while he scanned the books. He put a hand on his belly, sighing. There was a gentle swelling there, a matronly curve that had driven him to wear a loose-fitting linen shirt. He missed Alistair; his nipples were sensitive, he craved everything. Thank the gods that the weather was a little cooler; if he was in this state in Searing he would have been wallowing in the river like a buffalo. Vivian grumbled under his breath and pulled down another book on mathematics. Maybe if he stared at it long enough he would start to learn engineering.
Either that, or he needed someone to teach him. Basic artificing was a rather fun principle, if the puzzle he had in his fingers was anything to go by, he just didn't have a teacher. Or at the very least, a partner in learning.