Isobel Brandt \\ Persephone (praxidike) wrote in thegalaxy, @ 2016-03-16 13:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | !locale: naboo, dee, issan ren, madelena |
tranquil as a forest, but on fire within
Who: Issan, Dee, & Madelena.
What: Issan begins training her potential recruits.
When: Following this thread.
Where: Naboo.
Rating: T for TRAINING MONTAGE.
The refugee village had been carved out of a swath of the forest and jungle that grew over the majority of the landmass of Naboo; those arriving were presented with a bustling city that seemed perfectly at home in the landscape, but was in truth an interloper meant to imply some level of civilization to the strangers.
With Madelena tagging along, Issan moved to the location she and Dee had agreed upon to meet at. It was near the edge of the village, skirting a treeline that beckoned to Issan's mind. She never glanced back to see if the other woman was following; Issan could well feel her, and knew the interest of learning more about her newly imbued powers was enough to keep her around. Issan reached a turn, coming around the edge of a building to find whether or not Dee had decided to keep her end of the bargain.
The priestess was there, and she had come prepared. The pouch affixed to her belt hung lower today, heavy with its burden of potential supplies. Uncertain what Issan’s training would require, Dee had gone to the market the night before, and procured a number of items she hoped would work as analogues to her spellwork materials from home. The nexu teeth had been impossibly sharp; Dee’s fingertips bore a number of small, deep cuts from her handling of them. She ran her thumb over these markings as Issan came into view. Anxiety rose within her, soon eclipsed by an eagerness she had not felt since last she saw the woman. She waved in greeting.
When Madalena rounded the corner herself, she peered over Issan’s shoulder to see her new friend standing there, waiting. She popped out from behind Issan, not bothering with propriety in the least. “Dee!” She squealed, arms outstretched and reaching for Dee’s hand. “Dee, look who I’ve met! Is this her? The woman you mentioned to me?” She leaned closer, grinning broadly, to whisper not-so-secretly in Dee’s ear. “She’s wonderful, don’t you think?” Dee chuckled, nodding her agreement.
Madalena cleared her throat and backed away from Dee. “Sorry,” she said, straightening her hair over her shoulders.
Issan smothered the small smile that had blossomed on her face; all of this boded too well, but one step at a time, she reminded herself.
"It looks as though we're ready then," was her only comment. She glanced from them to the jungle; it wouldn't behoove them to have followers. It was a simple problem easily solved. A quick gesture followed by a handful of words had her cloaking ability fall over them, hiding them from the sight of any prying eyes.
"Follow me." She set off toward the woods, her step a touch too eager to be among the flora that grew before them.
Once Issan’s back was turned, Dee reached up to touch her bare shoulder. She had felt the application of the Force, the brief flare of power when Issan had tapped into it. She could feel it still, as a gentle thrum that surrounded her, close and soft as a veil. She could not as easily identify the nature of the spell Issan had worked. She fell into step beside Madalena, quiet for a moment as she pondered this new thing.
“I’m glad you’ve come,” she whispered. Her dark eyes cut to Madalena’s. “It’s so good to have another student alongside me.”
Madalena smiled again, despite herself. She was getting all too chipper lately, considering her circumstances. But she couldn’t help thinking that meeting Dee, Issan -- all these seemed portents to something great in her future, and it was hard not to be optimistic.
“I’m glad, too,” she replied. “Something about her -- I suppose I felt I just couldn’t say no.” If her enthusiasm earlier hadn’t been sign enough, she was glad for a familiar face as well. Having Dee here already made her feel like things were going to get better. Soon.
Somehow.
The three waded into the treeline; if they hadn't already disappeared from the eyesight of anyone following their odd trajectory, they would have vanished from sight all the same as the native Naboo plants swallowed them.
Issan had no trouble finding footing in the dense foliage, which grew thicker the further they moved inward; the ground changed from its firm dirt form to a looser, eventually watery consistency that created further difficulties.
Pushing back leaves and branches, Issan peered up to recognize Perlote trees reaching heavenward; they were few and far between, but recognizable for their thick roots that wended their way into the ground. A gaggle of slug-beetles spilled out from one as they passed close to it, their tiny, iridescent wings winking in what little sunlight filtered down; birds called out in the canopy while smaller mammals and lizards made the branches above their heads sway.
All in all, to anyone born in a more urban environment, the atmosphere could not have been more unwelcoming. Issan reveled in it; their movements caused a plant to their left to shift, rising up and moving away from their progress. The would-be flowers atop the step snapped at the three women, though nowhere near close enough nor large enough to cause any real damage. Still, it was enough to send Dee’s hand flying to her hair, pressing briefly down on her thick, high ponytail.
"It's a shiro-trap, nothing to be worried about," she called out over her shoulder. "You're not small enough for it to make a meal of you. This way." As it moved, they could make out a turtle-like creature that plodded away as quickly as its stumpy legs would allow.
She pushed through another set of bushes and brought them to a clearing surrounded by a ring of Perlote trees. Issan stepped into the middle of it, letting clean sunshine fall down upon her. She turned, her black robes fitting the dense, sombre atmosphere of the swampy jungle around them; her braids had come a little loose, her hair flying helter-skelter around her face.
"Do you feel it?" Her hands rose, waving at the backdrop around them. "This is perfect."
Dee drew a deep breath. The air was heavy here; it smelled of grasses, of mud, of life all around them. A pang of nostalgia and the unwanted longing for home pulled at Dee. But she pushed them aside, and focused instead on Issan’s voice. She let her gaze wander where Issan’s hands had directed. This was a beautiful place, in its way. It was familiarity and foreignness commingled, and something in Dee responded strongly to that. She let her eyes drift nearly closed. All around her she felt the stirring of life. A smile touched her lips, there then quickly gone. At last she nodded, answering to her instructor.
Madalena willed away the unusual feeling rising in her chest. She, too, felt a homesickness she couldn’t explain, and closed her eyes against the forest around her. She felt the heaviness of the armor she’d worn in battle what seemed like only hours ago. The birds in the trees reminded her of the castle gardens she’d roamed with Gareth, the flowers somehow calling to mind the smells and bright colors of the ones at home.
But this was home now.
She opened her eyes again and nodded to Issan.
"Good." Issan dropped her hands to her sides. "This is where we'll begin.
"I want you both to clear your minds; no thoughts, no worries. No longings for home," she continued, keeping her voice even. Her excitement quelled, she felt in her element. "You will only have yourself. Drop your belongings where you stand and come here; we'll start with something simple."
Madalena scanned the ground quickly for a -- somewhat -- dry spot for her bag. As the weight fell from her shoulders, she took a deep breath and let her eyes flutter closed again. She breathed out and envisioned herself a dragon, pouring smoke from her nostrils and rising high above the landscape to crush it beneath her talons.
Issan waited until they were settled before her. "Close your eyes; tell me what you feel."
“I feel… powerful,” Madalena answered.
Dee’s answer did not come easily. The furrow in her brow deepened until she looked positively worried. There was a right answer here, she knew, but she had not the first idea what it might be. She felt naked without her pouch; the familiar tools of her trade now gone, she felt alone in the midst of a strange and potentially hostile place. She leaned hard on the presence of the women who were with her, as she had done with the Rat Queens before them. She pushed this thought aside.
“Small,” she said, at last. Her shoulders sagged. It was the truth, however ugly and unwanted.
Issan raised a quizzical brow toward Madelena, but any comment was swept aside by Dee's admission. It seemed the two were on opposite ends of the scale, and she had some work before her to get the group within a metaphorical arm's reach of each other.
"Very well. Let's try some tests." Glancing to the far right, she levitated a rock to a yard away from her person. "Madelena, I want you to recreate what I just did. Move the stones from the edge of the clearing to here, but stack them on top of one another. If they fall, you will start over."
Issan stepped away from the stones, glancing at Dee. "And you," she said, holding out her arm, "are going to heal me. Without using your hands, or anything other than your mind."
The flesh in front of Dee was pale and smooth; a moment later, it was tearing itself apart, and Issan didn't so much as flinch as blood began to well along the cut. It was small, barely an inch in diameter. Dee pursed her lips against the curse that wanted to come. Her brow knit. She leaned forward, peering down at the wound. Twice she thoughtlessly began to raise her arms, and twice she stopped herself.
She felt herself progress by painfully small degrees. Unable to pray aloud, unable to touch the rent flesh, she could only sit amidst the power she could not seem to call upon. She felt its presence, but when she asked it did not answer. The harder she wanted it, it seemed, the less it wanted to come.
Madalena forced herself to turn slightly away from the other women; seeing them from the corner of her eye, she found herself wanting to watch, wondering if she could heal someone, too. She focused her attention on the stones. The first only wriggled in its place; Madalena frowned and started again. One stone finally began sliding along the ground, but lifting it proved to be another issue entirely. Always, it seemed, one corner clumsily rested on the ground, the whole thing shaking as if being lifted by a weak thread.
Frustrated, Madalena crossed her arms. She shut her eyes again, gathering her emotions and shoving them back down, trying to wrangle her disappointment, frustration, doubt, confusion back into control.
Their reactions were as expected, but Issan gave them no reassurances.
"We will stay here all day until these tasks are completed." Her arm never wavered, even as the blood began to run down her arm and splatter the grass below. She could sense Madalena's frustration, see Dee's lack of confidence. The former she knew she could help tap into that irritation, but Dee's was a larger problem; a lack of self created a lack of power, and Issan would not have a weak coven member. She'd had such high hopes for this woman, and she refused to let them be dashed.
"Try again."
Dee grit her teeth, and nodded. It was only a small wound; if Issan could unmake flesh with the force, Dee had to trust she could remake it with the same. Where N’Rygoth was a tangible creature, the Force was everywhere and nowhere at once: the apex of the interdimensional existence she thought N’Rygoth had had. Surely that meant it was stronger, and that she did not need her prayers to tap into it. She drew a deep breath. Let it slowly out. She focused on the way it had felt to heal Bellamy, and Hannah before him. Then she tried again.
Slowly the edge of the wound began to close up. A bruise appeared beneath the flesh, spreading like spilled ink; Dee had pushed too hard. She forged ahead, adjusting her approach. Though her method was imperfect, the cut skin still drew together by scant degrees.
Dee huffed a loud breath, and the healing ceased. “Bogin,” she muttered. She swiped the back of her hand across her sweating brow. “This is hard to keep up.”
“Quite.” Madalena echoed Dee’s frustration. Under her breath, she mumbled to herself. “I will do this. It can be done, and I’m going to do it.” She set her thoughts again on the second stone, working to control her breathing and ignore the now-fading anger. Slowly the stone began to rise, first still one corner at a time, but then it settled, hovering a few inches from the ground.
Madalena laughed to herself at the absurdity of the whole situation, but the minor break in her focus caused the stone to wobble drastically. She immediately stopped laughing and frowned at the rock. “Oh, we’re doing this,” she growled. As if in response, the rock swooped over to the first stone and dropped down on top of it with an ear-splitting crack. Madalena grimaced.
Issan watched the cut in her arm close, the tiniest of hopeful smiles stretching across her face in a grotesque show of pride. In her peripheral vision, she could see Madelena's partial success; small was it was, Issan still felt a surge of excitement.
With a simple thought, she ripped the wound in her arm open again; the spike of pain that came with it felt infinitesimal compared to what she was expecting.
"Again."