wolfe. (abstention) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-04-13 20:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, !plot: founders festival, peony min, wilham wolfe |
is your mind mistaken? is your conscience not at ease?
Who: Peony & Wolfe
What: Slightly less awkward conversation
Where: The streets of Emillion
When: Backdated: Founders Festival day one, before the parade
Rating: Tame
Status: Complete!
The winged boots had been removed and stowed moments earlier, and Peony’s stance on the cobblestones was a bit uncertain as she adjusted her black mage robes, which were fortunately thick enough to keep her warm in the cool spring morning. Around her, other mages prepared for the spectacle as well, most dressed in the traditional garb of their classes, the taskforce members clumped together, unified only by inconspicuous identical armbands. Peony took a few experimental steps, losing her balance as she did and nearly colliding with one of the others. She looked up at Wilham with an apologetic smile and righted herself, saying, “My apologies; it seems that I can learn to walk on the air or the earth, but never both.” He was taken aback (and that happened so rarely with this man), looking at Peony’s face before glancing down at her wobbly feet, then back up to her face. She’d seemed taller just a few minutes ago, he could have sworn it, and there was that peculiar unsteadiness and rolling gait he generally attributed to sailors recently returned from sea. “Winged boots?” Wolfe finally asked after a contemplative pause, reaching a reasonable conclusion. He couldn’t help it, but a small smile tugged at his lips. Peony Min was so rarely off-balance, both literally and figuratively. “Indeed,” she said. “I had thought it best to become accustomed to them before they became necessary in a practical sense, and I had finally learned to walk without trouble, but now, it seems, I have earned myself a new challenge.” Fortunately, she was reacquainting herself with the feel of solid ground beneath her feet now; by the time they began their march, she hoped she would be steady. “I have not seen you much around the Tower,” she said -- not an accusation, simply an observation. No doubt her company was not something he intended to seek. It was understandable, if somewhat unfortunate. “I hope you have been well?” “I have. I’ve been burying myself in the stacks, for the most part, though I’m sometimes out and about with my former mentee. Or fighting off unusual non-native monsters at the palings, apparently.” Their immediate area was swarming with other mages as they all tried to cobble themselves into some sense of order for the parade, but for now, Wolfe seemed braced to carry on this conversation. “Why the unusual footwear?” he asked. His curiosity was still hooked. It wasn’t every day you saw one of your councilors (and former friend, he tried not to remind himself) floating along above ground-level. “I have come to be somewhat wary of the earth in recent weeks,” she said quietly. Toku had mentioned encountering Wilham at the chasm in the Nobles’ District; no doubt the younger geomancer had drawn his own conclusions on the topic. “Perhaps one day these boots will serve me well.” She thought one day might come sooner rather than later. “I was in the fray also,” she added, thinking of the odd beasts that had been appearing in and around Emillion recently. “Your thoughts on our recent state of affairs?” Another olive branch -- as she had done last time, she was slowly attempting to engage him again, if only as a colleague for now (matters more personal than city affairs were not for the here and now). And Wolfe seemed grateful for it, relieved for the safer subjects. “They’re disturbing,” he said frankly. “Geomancy operates on the principle of all elements being in balance, and Nature especially being in equilibrium—but all events recently speak to it being the exact opposite now.” “Yes,” she said. “I have made a small foray into studies of your branch of magic myself recently, and I can imagine this would be particularly unsettling for you.” Her own skills were far from impressive at this time -- a flutter of buds on a tree, a rustle of papers in her office -- but she was getting better at calling in such a way that nature chose to answer with power. “It is. It’s part of the reason I’ve been in the library so much, to tell you the truth. I’m trying to find some indication of what might cause this sort of thing, though there’s really no recorded mention of an earthquake in Emillion the likes of what we saw recently.” Wolfe had almost let himself get carried away down this avenue of thought; mages were always happy to disappear down the rabbit hole of discussion and theory, and he was no exception. But then Peony’s innocent mention came back to him, and he raised an eyebrow. “A small foray. Thinking of studying geomancy too, then?” “I have no desire to leave my current class,” she said, as she had to Toku many times prior. “But I think one cannot be too well-armed in such times as these.” And magic that required no expenditure of personal energy was too valuable a resource to bypass. Fortunately, unlike with healing, she appeared to have some aptitude here. “Perhaps,” she said, no caution evident in her voice and stature although the words she spoke teetered on the edge of professional and friendly, “sometime you can assist with some guidance. It is always wise to have more than one teacher.” The offer—the request, the suggestion—was another lifeline, and Wolfe seized it. He was always one for following others’ lead, and for each overture Peony made, he took another step in the same direction: water adhering to the path carved out for it, trailing the valleys she’d left for him. “That sounds fantastic,” he said. “I’m still wrapping my head around some of the spells as well, so being able to practice them with someone else would be, as you put it, wise.” They had always been similar enough, and it was little surprise that they both grew in Toku Matsudaira’s shadow; they had their affinities for black magic, their weaknesses in the white. Behind them, however, someone was starting to bark orders, mustering the mages together (it was a little like herding absentminded cats). The two of them perked obediently to attention, gave each other a nod of thanks and farewell, and then fell into line. |