Being back in the Prigany caravan was pretty cool - hadn’t taken Richie long to set up a get-together either, since he was familiar with the matriarchal coven and they seemed to like him. And they’d liked Elain - speaking of her, they were sad to hear that she had vanished, gone like a shadow. Or maybe they weren’t too surprised - he wouldn’t have put it past them to have seen it coming. Prigany were a lot more skilled than he happened to be, and that was a fact.
But he was attempting to learn more and carry on with the working relationship - he brought them flowers from Skyhold’s garden; embrium, to be exact. They were beautiful, resembling orchids, and smelled fresh and woodsy. Unlike a lot of orchids which smelled like rot and decay for some reason, these didn’t - in Max’s world they were actually used to help with lung ailments, to clear up breathing issues, and Richie thought the bouquet of them with their vibrant petals and verdant stems would be well-received. He brought Roz with him and into the caravan they went - they were offered tea right away, set up with psychometry lessons and books and sketching supplies (colored pencils, markers, plenty of paper), in case they wanted to practice automatic writing as well.
The inside of the caravan was that familiar shade of roses and red wine, a certain vibe with old lace curtains and green things that thrived in their windowsill gardens. There were creaky hardwood floors underfoot, some carpet here and there, and the interior smelled a lot more herbal than the outside had. “Okay - “ Richie sipped jasmine tea, flexing his fingers once he set the mug down. “Let’s do this thing. How ya feeling about it all?”
Roz was somewhat familiar with Prigany, she’d spoken to their members before at different events. But most of her interactions had been with Geliara and the friendly mountain dwelling blood magic coven. Prigany should be a no brainer for her though, considering her status as a Seer.
She was trying to be excited about all of this. She was looking forward to it, but with everything that had happened at the start of the month it was really hard to feel excited about most things at the moment. Even if she couldn’t make herself feel over excited, she did know that this would be good for her, and learning her magic. Plus it would give her something else to focus on. Now that school was over, her days were fairly open until classes resumed in the fall.
Showing up empty handed wasn’t much of an option either, so she followed Richie’s lead and brought flowers of her own, harvested from the forest and replanted in a pot to be kept alive. She’d followed Richie’s lead as they were brought onto the caravan, looking around at the set up with real curiosity.
She found herself at ease as she entered the space, maybe it was the vibe, or the scents in the air, or the tea they offered but it was calming to her.
Roz turned to Richie and offered the most authentic smile she could manage. “Pretty good. No ones asking me to touch the gates of hell, or an Eldritch Terror, so this should be a good experience.”
“Yeah, no way - fuckin’ yikes,” Richie replied, and one of the Prigany grandmas looked over at him pointedly (the way Elain used to do), all like LANGUAGE. He chuckled sheepishly and had the good grace to blush as he picked up his tea mug again and did a sip from it. The couple of people in the caravan had been grateful for the flowers (they seemed to like those for some reason) so they bustled about putting everything in water and arranging the pots in prime spots - they fit in nicely with the look in the kitchen where Richie sat with Roz, sprigs of plants in slender glass holdings and aloe also in pots, near the cramped sink, and blooming oleander in other terracotta.
Maybe that was why they liked more flowers. Because their caravans were already like indoor gardens on their own - it was definitely homey.
“It’ll be okay though - and if you want to stop at any point, just tell me. I want you to be comfortable,” he made sure to emphasize. And he planned to do the same - there was always a risk with this type of magic (and he still had a hard time thinking of himself as magic), so it helped to have a buddy who could pull you out if need be. The last thing he wanted was to get caught in a vision and get stuck.
They’d gone through some psychometry tips and were now given space to practice on their own - with Prigany as backup too, but overall they seemed like the type of teachers who didn’t feel the need to hold hands constantly. Richie eyed a mahogany box on the table - vintage art supplies were inside, like a small glass water bowl, pastels, along with ceramic mixing saucers and a chipped glass bottle. It seemed like a good test subject. “You want me to go first?” he asked, not minding that at all. The goal was to learn how to trigger visions through psychometry - so he wouldn’t know how Prigany’s lessons would pay off until he tried.
Roz really did have to hide a smile when the Prigany elders made it very clear what they thought of Richie’s language. She coughed lightly into her arm and looked down at her tea instead of letting herself react.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” she said with a shake of her head. This wasn’t her first spin with this type of seeing, she was okay with it. “But same with you, let me know if you need to stop.” She’d never had an issue with the visions themselves. They could be dark, and kind of scary, but she always managed to work through them.
It didn’t matter to her who went first. Roz had never tried to trigger visions for when it wasn’t necessary, only when it was. Hopefully it was relatively close to the same steps. “It doesn’t matter.” she said with a shrug. Roz motioned to the box, indicating he should go for it. “Go for it, I’ll go after.” She had never watched someone else pull this kind of magic before outside of a few students trying at Geliara, so she was interested to see how this went.
“Okay, here we go,” Richie squared broad shoulders, taking a deep breath. He had learned psychography here as well - and Prigany were patient teachers. Up for bartering, yeah, or cold hard cash - but their wares were legit and they knew their shit. He felt (mostly) confident that he could do this.
He slid the box toward him, fingers resting lightly on the top of the wood. It remained closed, but he felt out the shape and contours of it - while beginning to zone out, to not focus on anything. That was how he’d learned psychography too, just let it happen. Let the message come across - it was the same thing now. If you thought too much about what you were doing nothing happened (a watched pot never boils - that old adage was true in a lot of ways). His eyes closed and his glasses slid down his nose a little but he drifted further and further away from the moment, away from the present - all he heard was the ticking of the cat clock on the wall, cartoon eyes and tail darting back and forth; the sounds were kind of a mantra for him, matching up with his breathing, a perfect sync. Tick. Tock. Tick
Tock.
That’s when he fell into it.
When his eyes opened there was no more sky blue. Just a stark white, pupils erased and no sliver of irises. The imagery was strong, probably because he was holding onto an actual anchor and not simply plucking images from the ether, waiting for them to come to him - a camper like this one, lounging someplace in a yard, but it wasn’t this one. Because while this one was wooden and rosy on the inside, the one he saw was different - a Dutch door and what looked like design boards showcasing art, made of wooden pallets and chicken wire. Aluminum framing where more artwork and craft supplies hung, a chalkboard window.
There were people inside. They were talking excitedly. Words like the time has come, we can branch out on our own, our magic is important too before he was suddenly wrenched out of it, a whiplash of adrenaline and air pulled into his lungs. “Holy shit,” he exhaled (this time, Prigany didn’t correct his language - they just hovered in the background, tending to plants). “That was wild. Felt like I was right there at a witchy meet and greet. No one I recognized but it was nothing bad - I think that was the first time I’ve seen something that isn’t bad.”
Roz remained quiet, sipping her tea and watching as Richie slipped into whatever it was he was Seeing. She had to wonder why it was they provided the art supplies to them to use and who they belonged to. She remembered Richie mentioning using art supplies to express what they were Seeing, but she hadn’t expected to be given them to connect to instead.
When Richie came back, she arched an eyebrow and tilted her head curiously. “What did you end up seeing?”
The fact it wasn’t bad gave her some hope. Not that she expected everything to be bad, but she couldn’t mentally take more bad at the moment. Roz knew that couldn't last, but at least it was holding up for now. “A meet and greet? Like making introductions?” Maybe whoever he had seen were the owners of the supplies.
“It was a trailer like this one,” Richie replied, glancing around - then at the box he still was touching; quickly, he let go, further severing the connection and the hazy cobwebs that remained from when he was tethered to that vision. “But...artsy? Maybe like, a couple of the people were familiar - I think I’ve seen them in other places where this caravan’s been set up.” Prigany traveled frequently, selling their wares and teaching their spells - not everyone lived in this one either. “They were talking about branching off on their own.”
Could be that something new was coming - he wondered if Prigany was aware, especially if it looked like there was some cross-involvement between two groups. Or, well, could be not - as usual, visions didn’t give the whole picture. They just gave snippets to work with, because nothing was ever that crystal clear. But he nudged the box toward Rosalind. “You wanna try? Maybe you’ll see something else.”
Glancing around the caravan again, she checked to see if any of the Prigany members were paying attention. Maybe they were pretending not to pay attention. Either or, if they were listening, they were not being obvious about it. So some of the members of the coven were looking to branch off and start their own. Did that kind of thing go well, or poorly? She wasn’t quite sure of those dynamics.
“I really hope we’re not about to stir up some drama.” she said softly, before turning back around and reaching for the box that Richie just had his hands on. Rather than touching it, she picked it up and held it in her hands. Roz momentarily closed her eyes, but for her, dropping into the vision was almost immediate. Her eyes flew open and her face went blank.
She wasn’t seeing Richie, or the box, she had entered a memory, and it was potentially the same location. She was also in a caravan much like the one she knew she was sitting in, but it was decorated differently. Like Richie said, artistry. The scattered supplies and pieces of art reminded her of Harvey’s art space, in a way. But she pushed that thought aside and focused on what she was Seeing.
There were people there, on the younger side. She’d guess they ranged from late teens to late thirties. They were sitting in various areas of the caravan, some of them covered in paints, pastels, and other art supplies, the pieces they were working on also on display. “We have enough members and resources. We can go any time now. The others will understand.” said one, “Will they though?” came another voice. “We need to do it at some point. If we leave now, we can be established enough to be represented at the solstice.”
Roz put down the box, cutting the vision off and pulling herself back to her body. “I think there’s a good chance they already have.” she dropped her gaze down to the box. “I’d guess this was a box of supplies they left behind.”
Huh, that was interesting. Richie blinked, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “Okay, first off - you totally triggered it, that was awesome,” he said - since that was the goal, right? He managed to do it too - and overall, he felt like he was getting better at doing things like that. Triggering visions, that is, instead of just letting them wallop him upside the head - sometimes he still got the errant bit of mumbo jumbo but in most instances, it was because he was actively looking.
“Secondly, uh - yeah, it does feel like it happened already,” he added, gaze shifting toward the few matronly figures scattered about - who appeared calm and collected, even though he was one-hundred percent sure they had knowledge. He didn’t know them very well, but Prigany - the elders - didn’t seem like they’d hold grudges against the younger folk from wanting to branch off and try new things. “Should we...reach out to them? The newbies, I mean. I don’t want to get in the way of any coven politics but if they’re looking to set up stuff for the summer events maybe offering support would help.”
This was more Max’s area though, so Richie thought he should prooooobably bring up the diplomatic bullshit to his boyfriend - and he would, but he was curious about the artsy-fartsy folks too.
She doubted the Prigany coven was setting them up to cause drama. Covens grew, new areas of interest formed, that had to be standard operation, right? The members had to know who had been using these supplies and what Roz and Richie were likely to see. Assuming they didn’t break off after committing some horrible crime, it was probably fine.
“They had to know what we might see when they chose these supplies.” she said carefully, looking down at the box and reaching in to pick up a half used tube of acrylic paint in some shade of blue. “So it probably wouldn’t hurt, right? To see how they’re managing and what they’re all about.”
Roz turned the tube of paint over in her hand. “They seem to be artists, so assuming that is their main way to work with, they’re probably safe to contact. Maybe one of the Prigany members would tell us where we can reach them?” Or, better, yet. “Or maybe we can find them.” she said, considering that more of a challenge. “Want to try?” Roz held the tube of paint between them. “I can try first this time, if you want.”
Richie was thinking along similar lines, that Prigany must have known - and used these art supplies as an offering to help him and Roz dive into psychometry, realizing what they’d see. They weren’t seeing doom either, but a turning point for the coven - he thought it was a good sign too. That Prigany kind of like, trusted them? In a way?
They weren’t kicking Richie out or whatever, so he’d take it.
“Yeah, good idea,” he nodded, gaze flicking toward the tube of paint. The thought of it having been used by the other would-be coven was wild - and he realized that he hadn’t been seeing the future either, he’d been looking at what had happened already. It seemed kind of like a breakthrough in terms of understanding what he was capable of. “Go for it. I’ve got you in case anything happens.”
Sitting back in her seat, Roz made herself comfortable again and closed her fingers around the tube of paint, allowing her mind to let go. She dropped into the vision again, eyes opening and only seeing what had already happened. One face was familiar, the rest were new.
The scene this time took her to a surprising location, she found herself in a police station. Infront of her was a woman who was beant over a sketch pad. In one hand, she held what looked like a piece of fabric, maybe from a t-shirt. Her other hand was flying across the sketch pad, the beginning images of a person starting to form on paper. “Macias!” someone called from behind them, causing the women to paush in her sketch.
The scene ended there, and Roz was brought back to the caravan. “I saw a police station.” she said, kind of surprised by the scene, but in a way it made sense. “There was a woman, someone called her Macias.” probably a surname? Or maybe not, witches seemed to have some pretty creative names. “She was working at the police stations. I think she was a sketch artist?”
Richie was on guard when Roz fell into the vision - just, you know, if an emergency happened. He was confident it wouldn’t - and they also had Prigany here to help - but you know. He felt better looking out, was all. It seemed to go okay, though he did breathe a sigh of relief when she was back in the present moment.
“Like one of those forensic sketch artists?” he replied, eyebrows poking upward out of interest. “That’s pretty cool. Maybe they use automatic drawing or writing to figure out what happened at a crime scene.” Seemed like it’d be pretty useful, in that case - Vallo City wasn’t bathed in blood or anything, but shit still happened. There was crime like anywhere else.
He reached for the paint tube next, deciding to give it a try. It always took him a bit of time to buckle down enough to be able to look into the future - or the past, as it were; he had to let himself fall into it, zone out, gaze hazy and unfocused without any fixed point. Eventually it happened though - he was back in that trailer, with the front steps that smelled of bitter tea leaves and smoke that hung low, the halogen of a tiny porch light piercing his vision. They didn’t have a plethora of plants like Prigany, he simply caught sight of some rosemary sprigs hanging from thin fishing lines and some ribbons - they looked like windchimes, or were placed where others might hang windchimes, which he noticed this time.
There was someone sitting on that porch dragging a paintbrush onto canvas - words and pictures, though they seemed contemplative about one word in particular: Brorose, which was a splash of color and underlined.
Then he snapped out of it, eyes unfogging from where the white had taken over everything. Vaguely his head throbbed at the temples and he wondered how the hell magic people did this for a living so frequently - because his clairvoyance muscle was not exercised as much. “...I think their name is Brorose,” he said, which sounded equal parts amazing and hilarious. Not as intimidating as Vorerra - just artsy and chill. “I saw someone making like, a sign with that name or whatever.”
“I think, so yeah. Which kind of makes sense? If they’re an offshoot of Prigany, that would be a way to establish their powers as something useful and make steady income.” Not every coven could generate their own money easily, it would take establishment, and building up their reputation and services. A forensic sketch artist wasn’t a bad idea.
When Richie went again, she sat back and watched carefully as he had done for her. She didn’t think anything would go wrong, but it was better to have his back. When he came back out and mentioned what he had seen, Roz didn’t react for a second. Instead she just stared at him, then slowly raised an eyebrow. “You look like you’re being serious, but at the same time I’m having a hard time believing it.” Brorose? Had someone lost a bet on that one? Who would name themselves Brorose?
“Are you sure it wasn’t just someone messing around with paint? Or maybe a name that was shot down?” Roz reached into the box and pulled out another tube of paint, wanting to see if she could find a similar scene. “I want to see if I can focus in on something like you just saw.” she said, but then held out her hand to him. “But I also want to see if I can take you back with me. If you’re up for it.”
Honestly, all of the coven names sounded kind of ridiculous to Richie - one could argue that to choose the name someone just spilled a bag of Scrabble letters onto the floor and decided to use whatever word vomit combination happened. “I - don’t know,” he chuckled sheepishly. “It looked like someone was making a sign, so it felt pretty permanent? It’s not a terrible name though, but that’s just me.” A couple of the coven names also sounded like venereal diseases, let’s be fair here. Brorose was the tip of the iceberg.
But if Roz wanted to check for herself, he would go along for the ride. “Sure,” he nodded, placing his hand in hers - being linked always helped, at least for him. Being around someone also scrying seemed to give him a boost too, but physical contact was even better. “Let’s do this thing - we’ll see what we can see.”
They were aaaaall the way down this rabbit hole, and he wanted to follow it wherever it went. Until they reached a dead end or his head exploded, whichever came first.
Roz closed her hand around Richies and her other hand around the paint tube. This time she focused on taking Richie with her. This was new, so she took a few extra seconds to fall into the past vision, but she got there, and when she looked to her right, there was Richie beside her.
She hadn’t really expected to see a sign that said ‘Brorose’ hanging from the caravan, but there it was, just as Richie said. She visabilly inhaled, and slowly exhaled, her shoulders drooping slightly, though there was an amused look on her face. “You can’t tell me someone didn’t lose a bet. I refuse to believe everyone voted on this.” Assuming this coven followed a similar leadership structure as Prigany.
As she said it, members of the coven came from somewhere behind them, heading for the doors. “Hurry up, we’re going to be late for the vote.” said one, practically dragging the other one behind them.
That answered that. Democractic. She turned her head to look around them, trying to see where they were in relation to the island. It looked to be in the woods, but she could also see a main road that would be used to head directly to the city not far off from here. Which would make sense if they were doing work at the police station.
Holy shit, this was wild - instead of waiting while Roz took a trip into the past, Richie joined her her; he was sure that he went blank-eyed again, staring blindly at nothing in the present. But in the past he was in the forest - parts of it seemed familiar. “I remember that road,” he said. “I drove on it when escaping the city, when those...eyeball monsters were around. It’s near Galahd.” He and Max in his car, on the way to Skyhold, and he straight up plowed into one of the skeletal creatures that did a number on the roof.
“But, you know - at least we know where they are and what their name is now,” he mused. “Pretty cool.”
He breathed in. And out. Focused on the look of the caravan and tried to root it all into his memory - if nothing else, he wanted to know how they came up with the name.
“Eyeball monsters?” Roz didn’t have a clue what Richie was talking about, and by the sounds of it, she was okay with that. Those must have happened before she had been pulled out of Dark Vallo with the others. It didn’t sound like anything she wanted an actual image of, the monsters in Dark Vallo had been enough, thanks. She shook her head at the very thought. “Nevermind, I do not want to know.”
Cool. Questionable. Agree to disagree on the name. But the concept of the Coven was cool. She hoped they’d be willing to talk to them, and let them know what made them branch off, and how they came to settle on that name. Every new coven had to start somewhere, right? It would be interesting to see where this one lead. “Well, we’re definitely giong to have to track them down now. Maybe bring some art supplies with us.”
Unless they wanted to head into the caravan, they were likely done here. So Roz focused on pulling them both out of the vision and back to reality.
Richie snapped out of it soon after, and his head definitely throbbed - it was about two steps away from feeling like an iron spike had been jammed into his ear and left there but, oddly enough, he...didn’t hate it? Maybe it just meant he was working hard. Or something. But his nose wasn’t bleeding and he was still alive, so he’d consider it a victory. The hot tea helped - at some point, Prigany had refilled his mug and he picked it up to sip gratefully and let the heat seep into his hands.
“Yeah, let’s do that,” he agreed. “Pick a date to go over. Bring art supplies - or some type of art made by one of us. I’m not artistic personally, but I know people.” He thought maybe Brorose would appreciate that - a gesture of goodwill, and he wanted to get on the right foot with this newer coven. Make them feel comfortable, but also at the same time not ditching Prigany either since they’d been welcoming and had helped Richie learn a lot.
He’d see what Max thought too - since best boyfriend did a lot of this stuff back in his video game world. “Thanks for coming with me, by the way,” he added to Roz. “I always feel better doing psychic stuff in a pair.” It was definitely safer that way too.
“Maybe before the Solstice? Though we’re running out of time for that. We could introduce ourselves and see if they’re planning on doing anything to celebrate at all.” Everyone was invited to the Solstice, but it kind of seemed like it was the bigger covens, like Prigany, that drew most of the attention at the celebrations.
Roz would bring the art supplies, she herself was not an artist in the sense of drawing and painting. Her skills were squarely in music.
She shook her head, brushing off his thanks. “No, thanks for inviting me. It’s been a rough few weeks. I needed something else to focus on. Plus I need to hang out with other Seers more. How else am I going to learn about artsy new covens with questionable names?”
Richie snorted a laugh. Questionable names, that was true. But whatever tickled the pickle. “Hey, no problem,” he replied. And he wouldn’t pry about the rough few weeks - he’d been there himself, considering the fact that losing Enola made him feel like he was being kicked in the gut over and over again, like gravity itself had abandoned him because she was pretty essential to his dumb existence - so, yeah, he understood. Let’s just say that. “I’m all for introducing ourselves and offering to help with Solstice stuff. I was planning to go to that anyway.”
At least for Prigany’s sake - maybe they wouldn’t mind some assistance, and it could bring Outlanders and locals even closer together. Fusion. Such a beautiful thing.
“Same. I signed up with Prgiany at the last Outlander coven meeting, but hopefully they won’t mind me dividing my time.” The Coven was a stop she meant to bring with Richie, it was at the last meeting she realized he hadn’t shown up. Maybe she could convince him to come to the next one, but that was a conversation for another time.
It looks like they had accomplished their goal, at least. “Should we see if we can help Prigany with anything before we leave?”
Richie also hoped Prigany didn’t mind a little splitting of the time, but he didn’t think they would - there was probably some tenderness and bittersweet feelings about those in their ranks breaking off to form the other coven, but nothing that would lead to an all-out dispute. It would be okay - one less thing to worry about, and life in Vallo was difficult enough.
At Roz’s question, he nodded. “Yeah, let’s do it - once I find a bathroom because, damn, that was a lot of tea to drink.”