Rosalind Walker (weirdseer) wrote in valloic, @ 2022-06-16 11:55:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, emelan: briar moss, ₴ inactive: rosalind walker |
Aathribrite was only local to Vallo, as far as she knew. It didn’t exist in her world at least. It was a small black flower that grew in the forest. It had a number of properties, too much and it could be deadly if ingested. The right amount was excellent for creating a balm that was supposed to reduce tension and help you focus. It took a while to make, and Roz was hoping to have some ready to go for the fall. If she started now, it gave her time to fail a couple of times if she couldn’t get it right.
Roz stepped over a wet patch in the woods, her boots preventing her feet from getting wet as she searched around the base of the trees for the plant in question, being careful not to accidentally step on it. A few feet away Phoebe was chirping at a squirrel she had run up a tree, which was chatting angrily at the bobcat below. “So go up after it,” she told her familiar, not looking up from her search, “You’re more than capable of climbing that tree.” The bobcat didn’t move though, she just chirped at Roz this time instead, before sitting at the bottom of the tree and watching the squirrel, who also didn’t move to the next tree, for whatever reason.
“Or you could stop having a standoff with that squirrel and help me find it?”
Briar had been over a significant area of the forest already in his exploration, but there didn’t seem to be an end to it, particularly since half the time he’d work his way back to an area he’d already been only to find it totally different. For a plant mage, he had a rather embarrassing lack of experience with forest life; he had grown up in Summersea, after all, which was a coastal city, and most of his travels since his mage accreditation had been in the godsforsaken deserts around Sotat and Chammur and the mountainous regions of Gyonxe and Yanjing. The last time he’d been in a forest anything like the size of this one, half of it had burned down.
This one was heavenly for someone whose power came entirely from green things.
Every day he found something fascinating that he would have loved to show Rosethorn. His quest to put together a mage kit was getting seriously derailed by every new specimen he found to study; plant life he had never seen or read about, and he now had a notebook almost entirely filled with notes that might have made even Tris proud. It was even putting a hold on his plans to find somewhere to live outside of the city, which while still too big and too loud in a lot of ways, he was starting to get almost used to. Still, he loved the vastness of the forest, the smell of the air, the brush so thick that anyone else might have spent hours hacking their way through. He of course could just ask the living plants to move aside and take most of the dead stuff with them so that he forged his own clear path that doubled as a trail when he inevitably lost track of time and had to make his way back in the dark.
He was making a new path now, the pure cotton shoulder bag that served as his new mage kit strapped across his chest. He tended not to run into many people, so it was a bit of a surprise when he heard voices nearby. Curious, he asked the bushes and ground cover to shift aside for him as he changed direction, patting the trunk of a thick tree as he passed and hearing its leaves rustle as it quivered with excitement at his touch.
He stepped through the gap he’d made, his clothes a neat and clean juxtaposition to his dirt-covered hands thanks to Sandry’s magic keeping off stains and wrinkles. He might have to buy some new things if it got really cold at some point, but for the most part the things he’d arrived in continued to serve perfectly well, so long as he washed them occasionally.
He had found a young woman and a cat who was even bigger than Evvy’s old mog Monster had been. Confused for a moment, he realised the woman must have been speaking to the cat - unless there were cats here who could talk, which wouldn’t much surprise him at this point. “Apologies,” he said, with a polite sort of bow. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Phoebe became aware of the new arrival before Roz did- do much for being a Seer. We’ve got company. she warned, which sounded like a series of chirps to anyone else. Roz spun immediately, head whipping around to see who had arrived just as he began to speak. Phoebe didn’t seem particularly alarmed, so it was probably not someone she had to be too worried about, but you never really knew in this place.
He seemed okay, at least. “Oh, no worries.” she said with a smile and a wave of her hand. “You have every right to be here, you didn’t interrupt.” No one owned this forest, after all, even if there were a few groups of people who probably stuck to it more than others. But Roz had learned the ins and outs of coven, pack, and other groups' territories for the most part. At least when it came to being able not piss someone off when exploring the woods.
“I was just looking for a certain plant to harvest for some magic I want to try. Phoebe is losing a staring contest to a squirrel.” Roz said with a smile, motioning to the bobcat. Not appreciating Roz’s assessment of the situation, Phoebe shook her head and pretended to turn her attention to grooming herself instead.
Briar’s interest was piqued right away. He was painfully aware that he hadn’t even scratched the surface of how people did magic here. He’d thought he’d known a lot about how magic worked, but in this place all the rules he had had drilled into him from the age of ten had gone entirely out of the window. “If it’s a plant you’re looking for, perhaps I can help,” he offered, one eye on the big cat. “I’m Briar, by the way - Briar Moss.”
Maybe he could help, he could be a local. There were more of them than Outlanders, after all. “Nice to meet you, Briar. I’m Rosalind Walker - Roz. This is Phoebe.” she said, glancing at her familiar again, who was once again watching the squirrel, her stubby tale moving back and forth.
“Are you a local?” she asked, curiously. “I’m looking for Aathribrite. It doesn’t exist in my world, but I’ve seen it in this area before. It should just be starting to bloom now.” Unless this part had been cleared out for some reason, people were pretty good at making sure they were not taking more than they should in Vallo. Thankfully this world believed in conservation.
Briar had never heard of Aathribrite, but that was hardly surprising if the plant was local. “What’s it look like?” he asked, already sending out vines of his power through the rich earth under their feet to look specifically for flowers in recent bloom. His range in a place like this was incredible, and he was confident to the point of cockiness that he could find anything even remotely recognisable no matter where it was hiding.
Roz paused for a moment when her local question went unanswered, but shrugged it off after a few seconds. He could have missed it. A local wasn’t guaranteed to know what Aathribrite looked liked anyway. Not everyone needed to know the properties of plants. “It grows close to the ground, usually around trees. It’s small, black petals, bright blue center, dark green leaves, they usually grow in clusters.” she explained, pulling up her phone and showing him a photo of the flowers on the screen. “I’m working on a spell over the summer that requires them.”
Briar blinked a little at the presentation of the phone screen; he had just about come to grips with technology so far as to be able to send messages, but it still overwhelmed him that it was so easy to present an image which was a perfect picture copy of anything you liked. At home even most books only had sketches or woodcuts, and detailed paintings even of plants were expensive. He could afford it, of course, but still. “Found some,” he said, after a moment’s search with his own kind of magical vision. “You were in the right area, if that helps.” He shifted his kit on his shoulder and waved in the direction he had seen the black flowers. In response, a pathway wide enough for two to walk abreast cleared through the undergrowth, the forest leaning to either side to let them pass. “Allow me, Miss Walker,” he said, with a polite bow.
How casually he announced that he had ‘found it’ without even looking. Roz quirked an eyebrow, though her expression quickly changed to one of fascination as a path, she assumed toward the Aathribrite, opened up before them. “Plant magic?” she asked, turned to look at Briar. She wasn’t sure how to react to the bow, that was not common practice for her, but she tentatively smiled. “That skill set would have made some classes in school so much easier.” But that was in the past now, years ago with her updated memory from home.
She started off down the path he had managed to create with magic, “Rosalind is fine, by the way. No one has called me Miss Walker since high school.” Even her professors in university had not been that formal, despite what high school teachers had said. “And thank you. For your help. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Not at all,” Briar replied. He decided he liked the name Rosalind; it reminded him of Rosethorn. “May as well make myself useful on occasion. And yes, plant magic. Someone told me there are mages -” he caught himself quick enough to amend his languages - “or witches? Who routinely use plants to do spells, here.” As he walked little white blossoms burst open from long-dormant seeds under his feet, where the forest’s masts had been shielding them from the sun. He let them grow; they were thirsty for life, and it did no harm in a forest of this size. “Are you perhaps one of those?”
“Witches, mages. I’ve also heard wizards, warlocks, sorcerers, spellcasters, magicians…every world seems to have their common terms for people who practice magic.” she said with a shrug, not missing the flowers that seemed to spring up around him. Roz didn’t think he was doing that on purpose, which made it more fascinating.
She came to a stop when she recognized the flowers she was looking for growing wildly under the partial shade of a tree. He had definitely saved her a lot of time. “And yes, I am.” she with a smile, turning toward him now as she pulled her backpack off to reach for her harvesting supplies. “I’m a Seer- I can see things. The past, present, future, the hidden truth. Some psychic abilities too, though they’re much stronger when I’m with my sister-witches, they’re also psychics, but they’re not here in Vallo.” Roz carefully placed the backpack on the ground so as to not crush any of the flowers, and knelt down beside it to start working. “Plus standard witch powers in my world. Spellcasting, potions, and so on.”
“I know a Seer back home,” Briar said, grinning back. “Niklaren Goldeye - Niko - he sees everything. Saw magic in me, when no one else ever bothered to look, and in my foster sisters too. Mind you, I think all that Seeing gives him a permanent migraine. And my sister Tris sees stuff on the winds.” With his magic he probed the blooms she was collecting, trying to sense whether they had a particular magic of their own. “I can do potions, but that’s not magic, just mixing stuff the right way. I can boost the ingredients, though, if they’re plants - make ‘‘em extra strong. I never heard of someone who’s not a green mage actually doing magic with plants. What’s your spell do, with the Aathribrite? If it’s not impolite to ask,” he added, realising that he’d rather slipped in his manners in his excitement.
Other realities were always so fascinating, and Roz was extremely grateful that she didn’t have to worry about headaches. “Other Seers in my world didn’t see it in me, they assumed I was mortal.” She thought it had been another Seer who had found out her truth, but Marie had been so much more than that. “Someone else saw it eventually, though. But on the winds? She actually sees images in winds?” Roz could imagine hearing something on the wind, but seeing was something she’d never imagined.
As Roz worked to collect the flowers, she was choosing to collect clippings that she could repot and grow back at their apartment, and not just to use. “Plants are a pretty key part of a lot of magic in my world. They’re not always used. My best friend’s aunt works a lot of magic in the kitchen. The things she can do with plants are next level.” Hilda would never not be both amazing, and terrifying at the same time.
“I’m going to try to make a balm for when I start school next fall. Law school. Lots of studying. It’s supposed to help sharpen focus and ease tension. Pretty sure I’m going to need it.”
“Tris is a bit of a prodigy,” Briar admitted, hoping that his words would never get back to his sister or he’d never live it down. “I actually know two people who can do it, and the other one went mad.”
He listened, quietly fascinated, to her explanation. “And you add magic to it?” he asked, trying to get his head around this technique. “Or you use other magic ingredients?”
Roz was very aware of what it was like to be close to someone who would be considered a prodigy, in a sense. There were always surprises popping up. It was the one thing she could count on to remain constant. “Prodigy’s are always full of surprises.” she said with a smile.
The plant was now safely transplanted, ready to be repotted back at her apartment. She left it on the ground for the time being as she stood up, stretching her legs from squatting. “I’ve never been asked a question like that.” she admitted, “Both, I guess? I’ll use other ingredients, other plants that have the right properties. But I also have magic and will be working the spell that ties it all together, I suppose.”
Briar nodded; he supposed it was similar to the way a water temple healer would work up a cure in his own world. Of course it was always going to be stronger if he worked on it as well. He bent down beside the little flower, running his fingers along the petals while exploring it with his magic; now he would recognise it again even if it was a mile away. He gave it a little boost while he was at it, since it didn’t cost him anything and no plant was a fan of repotting, in his experience. Now it would transport well and thrive in its new environment, at least for a while. Some of the tattooed blossoms on his hands turned a purplish shade of black in response, like strange bruises, but settled back into blue as he stood up again. He took a notebook and a stub of pencil out of his kit. “Mind if I sketch it?” he asked. “It’ll only take a minute.”
She was pretty sure he was doing something to it when he reached down to touch the plant, if the tattoos weren’t indication enough., she just wasn’t sure what. It seemed fine though. Still, she had to be sure in case anything would work against your spell. “What did you just do there?” Hopefully just helped it, she knew enough to know what plants didn’t necessarily take to repotting very well. “And what’s happening with your tattoos, if you don’t mind me asking.” He might very well mind her asking, and fair enough if he did.
“Oh, sure.” She didn’t know how fast he could draw, but she did know Harvey was capable of turning them out pretty quickly, so Briar could be too. “You’re an artist?”
Briar laughed. “Hardly,” he said. “Just taking detailed notes…” he was about to explain why, except that he couldn’t really explain it at all; he didn’t think the words ‘just in case my former teacher shows up and wants to know everything I’ve learned’, would come across particularly well. He focused on making his sketch look at least a little accurate, with a few scribbled words in the margin. “I just gave your Aathrabrite a bit of…” again he struggled with the right words to use outside of his own world, “energy, I suppose? It’ll help with potting. As for this,” he waved a tattooed hand vaguely. “I don’t know, they change colours sometimes. Sometimes it's mood related, but they literally have a life of their own, I’ve never been able to work out exactly what the reason is.”
The technology available in Vallo was foreign to a lot of people. It had been slightly foreign to her as well, more advanced than what she was used to, but close enough that it had taken her no time at all to catch on. But on the flip side, she had come to learn that witches loved their paper and pen.
“Anyone showed you had to take photos and notes with your phone yet?” she asked, though she would understand if he had no interest.
Roz tilted her head and examined his tattoos a little more closely while he drew out his notes. “So they’re magic?” She had never seen anything like magic tattoos before, and was instantly curious. “Do you have…magic tattoo artists where you're from?”
Briar winced slightly. “No…” he admitted. “I haven’t quite got the hang of the whole phone thing yet. There’s… nothing like that, where I come from.”
He rubbed the back of his right hand with the fingertips of the other; the petals shrank under his touch and bloomed again where they would be out of the way of his touch. “I er… did it myself,” he said. Even years later it was still slightly embarrassing. “I used plant dyes, which I should have known would be a problem, but I also used my sister’s needles, and she’s a stitch witch. Could have been either of those things that made ‘em magic - it all ended up a little more conspicuous than I intended.” He shrugged and grinned. “But it does shut people up before they can go into a speech about how I’m too young to be a mage.”
Roz smiled, nodding her head once. “We have something similar in my world, just not as…advanced. The technology here is waaaaay more superior.” It had its ups and down. “I definitely spend more time looking at a screen here than I did at home.” It was both good and bad to have that much information and instant contact available to her. “But if you ever need a crash course or anything, I’m happy to help. Enki Coven in Vallo also offers classes to people who aren’t used to it.”
“That’s really cool.” Roz had no idea how tattoos worked in general, not having any herself, but out of all the tattoos she had seen, those had to be the most interesting. “There’s probably so many people who would love something similar. Tattoo enthusiasts would be jealous.” She lowered herself back down into a squat again, watching him sketch as they spoke. “Too young? Why would you be too young? Is there a minimum age requirement to practice magic?”
Briar grinned; his medallion was around his neck, but it wouldn’t mean anything to anyone who wasn’t also a mage in his own world. “Usually people don’t get accredited until they’re in they’re twenties,” he said. “I was thirteen. Actually I was even teaching by fourteen. People questioned it all the time. Less so now, since me and my sisters made a big noise all over the place and broke a few things.”
“Accredited? Like there’s an organization in your world that declares if people are mages?” Maybe it was something like the school, she knew students graduated from there, though Roz herself had never taken that path. Twenties was when people tended to start graduating from universities. “Does that make you some sort of child genius then? I’ve heard of people graduating from universities at a young age, but I’ve never met anyone who actually did it.”
“It’s called Winding Circle.” Briar made a bit of a face at the idea that he might be considered a genius by any measure; of course he might think so as much as he liked but he’d probably have to duck at the speed of lightning to avoid the swipe Dedicate Crane - who had been on the board of his accreditation - would aim at him if he made any such suggestion.
Although knowing Crane it’d be less of a swipe and more of a Look, which was probably worse. “It’s complicated,” he said eventually. “If I’d never met my foster sisters I’d have probably been like any other ambient mage, but… well, things have always been not-normal about us. Our magic is all mixed together and it makes us stronger, I suppose. Tris used to say they gave us medallions to get rid of us, but I reckon they just didn’t want a bunch of kids running around without anyone to answer to. You got a medallion, you got to follow the rules,” he explained. Since his sketch was finished he got up and pulled his medallion out of his shirt to show her. “We’ve got a university too,” he said. “But it’s for academic mages, not the likes of me. I’d probably shrivel and die after the first week from lack of sun.” He grinned. “Is that where you learned, at a university?”
She could kind of relate to that, not that accreditation part, but the stronger together part. “There’s two other women back in my world who have similar powers to me. Our gifts are rare, and there’s three of us in our coven. When we link up our powers get stronger too.” Though there were probably some differences. “People call us the Weird Sisters.”
Roz shook her head, “I’d never attended a magic school until I ended up in Vallo. I didn’t even know I had powers until I was 16, didn’t know I was a witch until 17. I went to a normal school, no magic. Once I learned what I was, I had a quick crash course in magic when our world was in serious danger. After that I studied on the side, sort of in addition to school.” It had been a very busy, very depressing senior year, but she’d managed. “My parents don’t know what I am. They’d think I was evil, something ungodly. They’re very religious, and devoted to that specific religion. It doesn’t…allow for the powers that I have. So everything I learned was in secret.”
Briar winced in sympathy. It reminded him of his sister Tris, whose magic had been the cause of her entire family’s rejection of her; he sometimes wondered if they knew what an absolute goldmine they’d let slip through their stupid fingers. He didn’t have parents, but he didn’t like to imagine what would happen if Rosethorn, who had practically raised him from the age of ten as well as being his full-time teacher, had some reason to cut him out of her life.
Other than that though, it felt like they might have a few things in common, which was so far unusual in this place. He liked talking to her, it was fascinating without making him feel like his brain was turning to mush. “Sorry if this is a rude question,” he said finally, “but you are… human, aren’t you?” His experience with Yatou on the rollercoaster had been very disconcerting and he had no desire to repeat it.
Roz actually had to hesitate for a second, unsure of how to answer that question. She’d never had it asked before. “Yes.” she said, frowning. “At least I think I am. I’m different from mortals, who don’t have power. But both my parents are humans. My gifts are from the women in my dad’s side of the family. I don’t think that makes me not human…just different.” Supernatural, but human-like. She had all the same functioning parts as a human. “Why?” she asked after a second. “Are you not?”
Briar grinned. “I hope so,” he said. “I’m just… still getting just to all the different kinds of people there are here. I have a kind of paranoia of shaking someone’s hand and having it come off, in case it’s made of… glass, or something.” He held out his hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Rosalind. Thank you for teaching me something new.”
"I mean, fair. There's probably someone in this city that is somehow made of glass." She said with a casual shrug. "It's nice to meet you too, Briar. Hopefully I'll see you around? There's always something cool or new to explore around here."
“I’d like that.” Briar smiled. “Do let me know if you ever need any more foraging assistance. Or just someone to walk with.”