The gentle chime from the door made Nevin look up and over his shoulder. The first thing he saw was that the person who had come in looked absolutely dreadful - there was some kind of black smudging around his mouth, and across the sleeve of arm arm were traces of the same stuff. He'd been vomiting then, upheaving something quite nasty from the look of it. But that wasn't what Nevin was truly focused on - no, no. He was focused on something that had once plagued his nightmares, had chased him from his family and homeland.
The young man who had just entered the shop, sick as a dog, was bearing the symbols of the Ethereal Sway. Nevin's attention was raptly locked onto the symbol that had haunted him for so, so long once. He fought to keep the trembles from his hands and his face as he helped the young man sit at one of the stools, and calmly walked around - letting his hands fall below the counter so they could shake.
"I - well. I wasn't expecting to see anyone from... Salvar, down here in Scara Brae." Crimson take it. He couldn't keep the hesitation out of his voice. Even of the boy was younger than he was - well. He still bore the heraldry that he had so long despised. The alchemist cleared his throat and stared at the boy for a long moment.
"What - what is a Paladin of the Ethereal Sway doing so far from home? And more immediately - what in the name of all that is good has happened to you? That detritus - forgive me. I'm a bit thrown by one of the Sway being here." Nevin coughed and shook his head before moving to one of the shelves, and pulled down a thin blue bottle that he handed to the boy.
"That's an astringent, made with a couple kinds of mint. Swish it around in your mouth, it should clear some of that gunk from your mouth and let you feel like death hasn't taken a dump there." Nevin turned abruptly, facing away from the boy as he busied himself looking through the shelves.
"And don't worry. There is only plants in that, nothing magical." Merciful crimson. He couldn't keep the bitter note out of his tone, just keep it suppressed. He hoped the boy was feeling poorly enough that he didn't catch it. Nevin was torn inside. He wanted to tell the symbol of hate to get out of his store, to leave and go back to those damn frozen wastes where the people were as cold as the snow around them. But he couldn't - because the young man so clearly needed help, and as of yet, he had done nothing to Nevin.
So he bit his tongue, and returned to the counter, not quite looking at the boy.
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