Hi guys, Iām not dead, just been doing other stuff. Also there was a lot I knew I wanted to happen with this one so it took a bit to get it to go.
There is a masterpost for this series, which can be found here.
Castor is a warlock, in service to the Great Old One and the Dark Emperor, in that order. Ed is a fighter, a knight and battle master in the service of the True King of Lumenea. They have always been enemies. Away from it all, they might be able to become something else. Maybe even friends.
(This time: Travel continues to be a nerve-wracking experience.)
tw: aftermath of torture, tw: mind reading, tw: captivity, tw: scars, tw: something about mindmelding, tw: vague presence of fictional deities
Castor slept poorly, waking frequently, but at least Ed seemed to be sleeping well, a dead, lax weight against his chest. Dawn announced itself with a sudden pulse of warmth in the amulet heād held onto to reassure himself that they only needed to make it to the day. The light of the magic rushing back into it was faint, but with the sun nowhere near high enough for its light to make it down through the well above them, it was bright enough to make him nervous. Their captor would wake up soon.
Unwilling to jostle any of Edās injuries, Castor took a slow but deep breath, centering himself before he prodded Ed with his mind instead.
The knight shifted in his sleep, his brow furrowing as he snuggled up harder against Castor. He didnāt wake. Castor sighed, rearranging himself carefully until he could get a hand over Edās mouth before he prodded at a less injured spot on Edās shoulder.
Edās first sound of pain was muffled, but the hand over his mouth scared him. His eyes widened and Castor could feel a pulse of fear from him.
<<Itās just me,>> he said gently, letting go of Edās mouth only after he felt him put the pieces together and open his mind up, irritation washing through their connection for a moment before fading.
Now that Ed was awake, the morning seemed even more urgent, somehow. Ed sat up slowly, almost certainly as much from pain as a desire to be quiet.
<<Itās dawn,ā he explained, grabbing Edās hand and pressing the amulet into the manās palm, even though both the warmth and the light had faded. <<Itās magic again. We can plane shift away.>>
Ed still seemed groggy, but nodded. <<Where are we going?>>
Castor tried to keep his voice calm, to pretend he knew the answer. <<This was the safest plane I could think of. I think the only place we can go from here is back home. The material plane. We donāt have to go back in the same place we left from.>>
*******
Breathe, Ed thought, Keep breathing. Stay calm.
<<Where on the material plane?>> he asked.
It was only a moment later, as Castor averted his eyes, that Ed realized there wasnāt an answer. Castor didnāt know. He felt stupid. Why should he have expected anything else?
This could be good. It could mean he could go home. Or it could mean nothing. Anything.
He was less confused now than heād been before, when Castor came for him. He was less frightened. If Castor meant to torture him - well, there wasnāt much point even arguing against it. He didnāt. He wouldnāt. He was just an idiot. Impulsive.
Edās mind might as well have been Castorās, or maybe the other way around, but either way, it felt empty. Hollow.
<<I thought Iād let you decide,>> Castor answered quietly. <<I - I thought if one of us knew how to get you home, it would be you. But not ->> Castor seemed to lose the words, but while Edās mind (both of their minds?) felt empty, his chest didnāt.
<<Youāre afraid, too,>> Ed said, <<Afraid Iāll betray you.>>
The sorrow wracking his chest was probably his own. Did Castor think he didnāt know how much he owed him?
Castor shook his head. <<I was. But then I found out about ->> he waved at Edās thigh, where the old burn scars were. <<I might deserve it. Just - Iām not sure Iām as strong as you.>>
Ed shook his head as if that would be a distraction, as if the conversation they were having had anything to do with words. He pushed hard on their connection, trying to force himself into Castorās mind enough to just stop talking at all.
<<Youāre lying.>>
<<Not about that last part,>> Castor said, not bothering to pretend Ed was wrong, but not letting him any farther in, either.
<<Youāve been in my head as much as Iāve been in yours,>> Ed snapped, backing off, <<You know I canāt. Not - like that.>>
Now he sounded like Castor, last night. āLike that.ā What did that even mean? He snorted through his nose. <<Iām afraid Iāll choose wrong.>> Ed continued, his thoughts firm. <<But before that, I was afraid you would, so I guess it doesnāt matter.>>
There was a lot he didnāt say, but his emotions were still all stirred up. He was afraid, but not as much as he was tired. Tired to his soul. Tired like crying, back when he was a child, the kind of crying after dark that grown-ups said was fear of the dark, as if they couldnāt remember what it was to just be little, and worn down, and out of reserves. It might have been sadness, but he couldnāt be sure even of that.
His mind was empty. Echoing. Maybe it was just early. Maybe he wasnāt awake yet. Maybe he was dying, now that he didnāt have to fight so hard. So hard for what? How could he have slept so well and still feel so useless, so half asleep? It wasnāt even the pain, really. It was just - something. Something like the days before, in the basement. He couldnāt remember if the feeling had been before he told or after. He couldnāt remember when it was there and when it wasnāt.
His heart answered for him, his emotions still swirling and his mind still empty. <<Weāll find my sister,>> he said, <<The temple. They canāt ->> The words escaped him. <<Theyāre the temple,>> he concluded.
He could feel Castor wanting to ask which temple, or maybe which god. But then he didnāt. He just agreed.
********
Castorās heart raced as he and Ed activated the amulet. They shouldnāt be able to do it together, not even with it pressed between their hands like this, and he knew as the world spun around them that whatever it meant to do this together was something he couldnāt come back from.
Castor felt the amuletās magic drawing on his own attention and focus, but the destination was in Edās head, clear as day, a place as much felt as seen, and then they were tumbling into it, landing on the ground surrounded by wheat, both of them on their hands and knees.
Ed cried out in pain, but it wasnāt a new injury, just the jostling of their landing. Castor knew he shouldnāt know that without checking. He cursed lightly under his breath.
His patronās voice was suddenly present, reconnecting faster and stronger now that Castor was back on the plane where he belonged. <<Ssssssomeone meddlessssss.>>
It was a relief to be closer to the source of his magic, but only a little bit.
<<At least the fields are still here.>> Ed said into Castorās mind, as if he couldnāt hear Castorās master here. That was - something, at least.
<<Wwwe will not ttttalk to him right nnnnnow,>> his patron informed him. <<Heāsssss the onnnne who - invitessss Her.>>
<<Her?>> he asked.
<<Godddddddess,>> his master commented in distaste as he drew closer, giving Castor the old familiar feeling of something not-quite-him inhabiting the space behind one eye.
Whispering out loud to try to keep the conversations straight, he turned to Ed. āWho did you say we were going to a temple of?ā
Ed laughed, without bitterness for the first time, but for only a moment before everything else covered the laughter over, dampening it to nothing. āOh,ā he said, āI forgot about talking. Chauntea. Sheās-ā
Castor nodded. āAgriculture.ā
āAgriculture,ā Ed repeated, but then kept going. āLife. Crops. New growth. Control. I dunno. Lots of stuff. Nature but - in rows.ā
<<Sssshe does not thhhhhink she issssss the law,>> his patron supplied, sounding skeptical. <<She anddddd her kkkind never do. Exccccept the onesssss who say it.>>
<<Nature in rows,>> Castor answered thoughtfully.
<<Mmmmmeddling.>> his patron concluded.
āI, um-ā Castor said to Ed, āNot that it matters, but when you said they were the temple, are you - I mean - Do you have -ā He blew out through his lips, struggling for the words. āAre you. You know. Connected?ā
āMy sister is, uh - a Sister. There. Here. At the temple. But theyāll - I mean, theyāre clerics. And sheād never hurt someone who helped me. So itās - youāll be safe either way. Both ways.ā
<<Ttttttell her ttttttttto leave.>>
āAnd thatās your only connection?ā Castor pressed. āYouāre not - not connected yourself?ā
Edās mind moved in toward his, and Castorās patron twitched backward in his head, startled. <<Chhhheating.>>
Castor felt trapped, like he was trapped between both other minds.
āWhat about your magic?ā he blurted, hoping if he were a little more clear, Ed would back off.
āOh,ā Ed said, retreating. Castor breathed more easily, relaxing. āNo, thatās - I mean. It was only a couple of cantrips.ā
Castor wrinkled his nose skeptically. āThat thing you did with Amara in the castle was definitely a spell spell.ā
Ed snorted. āOk, but thatās one spell. Itās not like itās anything. I just learned a little from my sister. And if you tell anybody Iāll kill you.ā
The last part had no venom, like he said it out of habit and didnāt mean it.
āWell, did you tell Chauntea that?ā Castor asked, Bāecause my patron says - uh.ā
His patron hissed in disapproval in his head.
āMy patron suggested otherwise,ā he finished, hoping Ed hadnāt noticed him wince at his patronās displeasure.
All of a sudden, a wall went up between them, completely. He didnāt know what was in Edās head, at all. He didnāt like it.
<<Stop that, Iām trying to listen to him,>> he said to his patron, <<You said he was a gift.>>
<<I diddddd not.>> the voice replied. But then Ed was there again, on the edge of Castorās senses, and where before Edās presence had felt strangely light, a little bit of hope mixed in with the usual mess, now it was empty again, ringing with it, and he couldnāt tell why Edās feelings had gone hollow.
<<Telllllll him to mmmmake her llllllleave us alone.>>
Castor couldnāt, and he didnāt know why. Instead he pushed his thoughts outward, trying to figure out prayer on his own. <<Miss Chauntea - could you give us some space? Iāll - Iāll bring Ed to you like he wants. Or your temple.>>
He didnāt get an answer, not that he could hear like he could his patron, but a gentle breeze did blow over the two of them. Then something was gone that had been in the air around them, something he hadnāt even realized was there, and Edās emptiness rang even louder.
<Thatāssssss not what Iiiiiii meant.>>
<<Sorry. Iāll, uh - I can check in later? Take him to the temple and then sneak out?>>
It was strange to hear a disembodied voice sigh, no matter how many times it happened.
<<Verrrrry well. But rememmmmmber whose conttttract you signed.>>
Castor nodded, then realized it probably looked odd to Ed, since the knight hadnāt been able to hear the other conversation going on.
He looked over at Ed and the man was looking down and away, studying his own knees.
Well, that was - something. Castor had given up trying to keep his head above water. If all of this was a little beyond him, he could live with that.
āAlright,ā he said, trying to force a little cheer into his voice, āLetās get going, then. Youāll have to tell me how to get us to the temple.ā
Part 9! Oswin Greystone is a wizard, a con man, and, now, a warlockās pet. He needs to find a way out of it.
tw: pet whump, tw: non-sexual nudity (heās technically in his underwear), tw: abuse, tw: abuse by a representative of the law, tw: fantasy cops, tw: threats, tw: mental fog, tw: panic attacks, tw: dizziness, tw: vertigo, tw: vomit mention, kind of nothing happens, but kind of something does
Oswin could barely believe his luck as his masterās booted feet retreated down the stairs. His jaw still ached faintly from the captainās tight grip on it and he could hear that voice telling him, low and growling, exactly what would happen to him if he made a noise this time. Heād started shaking and he knew heād never stop if he couldnāt get the images his master had painted back out of his head.
He waited, keeping his ears open and focusing on what he could hear in the hope that it might drive the thoughts away and settle his racing heart.
The sounds were the same as yesterday, the low hum of men talking and laughing downstairs with no idea he was here. It was hard to imagine why his master thought they would care, given how little theyād seemed to care about him when he was in their dungeon instead of their attic, but that was another thought that didnāt help.
He focused on breathing. Heād been left collared, but with his mouth uncovered. That, at least, he could live with. For now, he could live with that, and for now he needed not to think about what it meant to be able to live with it. He could calm down. He would calm down.
When he felt confident that the man wouldnāt return any time soon, he rose hesitantly to his feet, biting back a curse as straightening his battered knees sent pain shooting through him.
He felt weak and wobbly, but standing at all had been beyond him not so long ago, so he let himself stand still and breathe and wait for the uncertainty to pass, holding his arms out for balance like a toddler. Gods, what was he? How had he been one thing three days ago and become another so fast?
Stumbling over to his masterās desk was more instinct than strategy. It was solid, heavy, and the right height to help him keep upright. Once he was there, though, there was plenty to catch his eye. He moved some papers off of a map of the city, labeled with a set of symbols he couldnāt make heads or tails out of.
Swaying on his feet, he started rifling through the papers instead, and then the drawers, hoping for anything that jumped out as useful. He could tell he wasnāt thinking straight, that the fear and pain were clouding over his mind, but he forced himself to focus. If nothing else, he would focus his eyes on the pages. If nothing else, he would read the words enough times to know what they were about, generally. If nothing else, he would decide if the things were useful.
It was all slow, too slow, painfully slow, and he couldnāt stand for that long, sinking into his masterās chair almost without noticing.
He barely heard his masterās feet on the steps before the man arrived, and even with the spike of terror that hit him, his mind was too slow to react, and he had time to fling himself from the chair and onto the floor, but not the time to fix the papers that scattered with him.
āWizard,ā his master barked, the anger in his voice making Oswin curl up into himself on the ground. āWere you going through my things?ā
Oswinās mouth went dry, and the fog in his brain rose up to silence him, his mind too muffled to answer.
As his masterās booted feet came closer, it was all he could do to stammer out the truth - āYes!ā
The feet stopped, and Oswin didnāt have the courage to look up.
āWhat did you say?ā the man asked, an edge of danger in his voice.
āYes, master,ā Oswin said, his voice so soft it almost gave out.
āAnd did I give you permission to go through my things?ā
āNo, master.ā
Blank. Empty. Howling. Why wasnāt his brain more useful? Why couldnāt he think? Oswin realized he was breathing fast, too fast, fast enough to make his empty, foggy head start spinning on its axis. He pressed his forehead to the floor, hard, in the hope that it might stop the spinning.
His masterās feet were moving again, but even if heād been fast enough to think of running, he couldnāt have known which way was away. He gasped for air, losing himself to the way the world reeled around him.
The quiet thud of his masterās knees landing on the floor beside him made Oswin flinch away, even as he struggled to make sense of it. A huge hand wrapped around the back of his neck, squeezing in a vague threat he felt more than he understood.
He looked up into his masterās eyes, unable to keep his own locked into the cold brown ones that seemed to spin along with the rest of the world, dizzying and impossible.
All of a sudden, his master released the back of his neck and felt his forehead instead.
āYouāre not feverish,ā he said, āPull yourself together.ā
The shove that sent Oswin sprawling was almost gentle, compared to most of what had come before it, and Oswin laid his head back down on the floor, trying to find words around his panting breaths. āTh-thank you, master.ā
āThe next time you touch something that isnāt yours without permission, Iāll crush your fingers under my boot.ā
Oswin nodded, the motion making the vertigo worse. His chest hurt. Had his master done something to make his chest hurt? But no, that was him. His lungs. His heart. He felt like heād messed up a lightning spell, like the energy running though him was too much, too fast, too dangerous.
The toe of his masterās boot pushed his chin away from his chest, and Oswin forced himself to look up at the man again, even as everything in front of his eyes continued to whirl.
āIf you can look at things for yourself, you can look at them for me. Stand up.ā
No. No, that wasnāt possible. For a moment Oswin didnāt move, but then his masterās face shifted, darkening, and Oswin fought his way through the spinning of the world and figured out how to move.
The floor was definitely down. The floor was down. He rolled onto his hands an knees, which meant his hands and knees were down and his head and back were up. He felt his stomach twist, but the good thing about not having eaten since yesterday was that there was nothing in there to rebel against the pain that still spiked with every twist of his back or the spinning of the world.
When he leaned back, onto just his knees, the spinning got worse, and he had to close his eyes.
His master grunted, displeased. āI said stand, pet.ā
Oswin couldnāt nod. Couldnāt speak. He knew which way was which, as long as he didnāt think too hard about the spinning, as long as he didnāt try to look. He struggled to his feet, swaying as soon as he was upright.
His knees didnāt feel any better this time, but what was more pressing was that he could feel the world swinging around him, even with his eyes closed. He half-crouched, trying to give himself a wider base to keep from falling over.
Then his masterās hand was on his chin again, pulling Oswinās face to tilt up towards his own. āOpen your eyes.ā
Oswin did, looking straight into those cold eyes, and even as he continued to feel everything whirl, whirl, whirl without stopping, his masterās eyes stayed perfectly steady.
Oswin reached up and grabbed his masterās forearm, moving on instinct before he could think about what he was doing.
āP-please Sir,ā No. Wrong. Oswin took in a deep, shuddering breath and tried again, āPlease, Master, make it stop!ā
His voice sounded afraid, even more than he expected. Even more than he felt, because even the fear seemed blurry beneath the vertigo, like that too was wheeling around him at top speed.
His master sighed. His brow softened, the anger fading. The Captainās eyes were still cold, still mean, but he was less dangerous now, had to be less dangerous when he wasnāt angry. Oswin started tearing up, his legs still shaking and his grip on his masterās arm still desperate.
His masterās other hand cupped his cheek, moving his face more gently this time.
āMake what stop, wizard? What have you done to yourself?ā
āThe spinning, master,ā Oswin answered quietly. āEverything is spinning.ā
The Captain scoffed, letting go of Oswinās face with a little shove that, disoriented as he was, meant Oswin could only stay upright by closing his eyes again and clinging more tightly to the manās arm.
āLie down,ā his master said, sounding vaguely disgusted. āYouāll look at things for me later. Get some rest.ā He muttered something under his breath that Oswin only half-heard. Whatever it was, it wasnāt good.
It was a relief to let go of his masterās arm, as much as it made him feel unmoored in the time it took him to get carefully from his feet to the ground.
Everything still spun, but the pressure of the ground against his side was reassuring, more reassuring than being balanced on his feet.
āIām going to leave some bread,ā his master sad, āDonāt eat it until the spinning stops. If you vomit, Iāll make you lick it up.ā
Oswin couldnāt bear to think of either the promise or the threat. Instead, he focused on the darkness inside his eyelids and tried, again, to get ahold of himself. His masterās footsteps sounded impossibly regular, descending the stairs, but when they were gone the world seemed even more impossible, somehow.
Everything was still spinning when he fell asleep, too exhausted for even the sense that he was about to fall to keep his frazzled nerves from giving out.
As the cart rolled along, Annaās breath caught in her throat, caught in her throat, caught in her throat, until every breath was a sharp and sudden gasp, forcing air into her lungs by sheer effort. Gozukk nudged the side of her knee, offering her a hand, palm up, to hold as he kept the reins in the other. She grabbed desperately for the open hand, taking it in both of hers, and he squeezed back reassuringly.
The clopping of hooves and clattering of wheels were deafening, awful, shattering, vibrating through her until she was certain that if sheād been brave enough to eat breakfast this morning, instead of only pretending, she would have thrown it up.
Gozukk ran his thumb along one of her hands, where he could reach, but her head was still full with the noise of the cart, of being in a cart again, of rattling vibrations and jostling and oh gods, oh gods.
āDo you need to take a break?ā
By the time she made sense of Gozukkās words, she knew it was too late to pretend she didnāt, too late to pretend sheād been thinking about the question instead of barely hearing what it was. She didnāt know when sheād pulled his hand up against her and hunched over it, like a child hugging a favorite doll, but now the cart was slowing, stopping, stopped, and Gozukk wrapped his other arm around her, letting her rearrange half instinctively to curl up against him.
It was only then that she started crying, right there on the front bench of the cart, not even in the back where sheād been - been before - before - when -
A sob wracked her body, sharp and painful, and then there were voices from the cart, voices she couldnāt identify, couldnāt follow, voices that didnāt sound angry, but that wasnāt - that couldnāt -
She gagged, even with nothing in her stomach to throw up, and Gozukk scooped her up, hesitant until she wrapped her arms around his neck, and climbed down off the cart to set her back on firm ground almost before she realized sheād left it.
āMiss Anna, are you-ā
Gozukk interrupted Jak before he could get the rest of the question out. āMake sure those reins are secured, please. And help the ladies down, if they want a break.ā
Annaās fingers were tangled in the front of Gozukkās shirt, and she didnāt know when or how theyād gotten there. She was kneeling - they were kneeling - and her face was pressed to his shoulder and - oh. Oh. He was breathing slowly, steadily, purposefully slow, because it was slower now than it had been before, and his arms were still around her.
As she started timing her breaths to his, calming down, he let go of her with one arm and ran his fingers gently through her hair, lightly brushing against her temple.
There were light footsteps moving behind them, but then the light feet were joined by a heavier set, and a slower one, and one accompanied by the soft thumps of a cane.
Kagnu, the woman sheād just met this morning, loomed over her and Gozukk as she cleared her throat. āI can drive, if itās better for her to have - help.ā The pause was kind, not bitter, and Anna still felt a wave of cold terror run through her as she realized she didnāt know how to refuse being inconvenient, just then.
āYouāre a week from that baby at best, and youāll do no such thing.ā Mazogga. Definitely Mazogga. Anna couldnāt even tell if the elder was looking at her, and she found herself blushing, embarrassed to have stopped the whole journey, and only an hour out of camp.
āAnd when it actually comes, itāll come.ā Kagnuās voice was gentle, even as she disagreed. āI can do it, Elder. Itās no trouble at all. The aurochs know their own way, so itās just finding the smoothest path. It might distract me from the jostling.ā
Elder Urokka was leaning more heavily on her cane today than she had the first time theyād met, and the rhythm of her footsteps was more halting. āAh, yes, youāll have to relieve yourself again while weāre stopped, wonāt you? And a few more times, besides, I remember those days. Let her drive, Zogga.ā
āElder Urokka, Iāll thank you to not pretend youāre a midwife just because youāve had children yourself.ā
Urokka laughed, even as Anna shook slightly at what was probably the iciest sheād ever heard Mazogga speak. āAnd Iāll thank you not to make dire predictions while Iām standing right here, Elder Mazogga. Weāre too old to have this argument again.ā
āAnd youāre too old to change your mind?ā Mazogga seemed calmer, more resigned.
āOnly if youāre too old to change yours.ā Urokkaās voice held a smile, and that was at least - was at least - was something.
Kagnu waddled off as Anna got a grip on herself, though Anna couldnāt say whether that was to give her and Gozukk privacy, or to get some privacy for herself.
As she felt herself stabilize, Anna loosened her grip on Gozukk and sat back on her heels, looking down at her knees. āIām sorry for - Iām sorry,ā she said softly, not sure how to put the apology into words.
Jak was hovering behind her, close enough for her to hear him shifting his weight from foot to foot.
Gozukk looked up at him, over Annaās shoulder. āJak, why donāt you go get Miss Anna a calm-down cloth and check on the animals while we decide whoās driving?ā
āYeah! Got it!ā Jak moved quickly, as always, dashing back to the wagon while Mazogga moved more slowly to stand beside Gozukk and Anna, putting a hand on Annaās shoulder. It was reassuring, but Annaās face flamed up in embarrassment. Just because everyone was being kind didnāt mean -
āIām sorry for the inconvenience,ā she said, half at a whisper.
āThe fact that weāre traveling for three purposes doesnāt mean yours doesnāt matter, love.ā Mazoggaās voice was matter-of-fact, with none of the mysticism and flair Urokka had when talking about her prophecies, but Anna had learned while they were preparing for the trip that that didnāt mean sheād be any more forthcoming about whatever it was Elder Urokka had seen.
Anna forced herself to smile, and not to acknowledge the squirm in her stomach every time one of the elders made reference to whatever the strange third purpose was. āThank you, Elder.ā
Mazogga squeezed her shoulder. āWhile Kagnuās away, how long do you think we have, Rokka? Because from my end, Iād say thereās time still, but we both know babies donāt always wait to come when theyāre due.ā
āThe gods have their ears tuned our direction,ā Urokka answered, her voice serious and with less than usual of her customary drama. āIāll feel better about it at the spring, but weāll have the time, either way, as far as I can see.ā
Mazogga nodded. āSo, the driving then,ā she said, sounding resigned. āIām not too old to drive, you know. Just because that young scrap of a cleric likes to help donāt mean I canāt do it. Just have to give him productive ways to chip in so he doesnāt get in the way.ā By the end, it was a grumble with no venom to it, and Gozukk was clearly holding back a grin.
āWhy donāt we work from back to front,ā he said diplomatically. āFigure out if weāll have one driver or two or a driver and a lookout, based on whatāll make calm in the back.ā
Jak practically vibrated with energy as he jumped out of the back of the wagon, carrying a damp cloth. āI can be lookout! Iām a real good lookout!ā
His feet kicked up dust as he ran over to Anna, but in spite of his usual speed, he held himself back when he got to her and handed her the cloth, offering it to her instead of thrusting it into her hands.
She wiped her face, reveling in the coolness, but also in the moment of hiding away from the others.
Mazogga squatted down to get closer to Annaās eye level. āWhat do you think, dear? Do you need quiet or distractions, in the back?ā
Anna blushed, but she was already putting the cloth against the back of her neck and couldnāt think of any graceful way to hide her face in it again. She looked down at her knees. āI - I think distraction, maybe? It was . . . when it was quiet in the front, I could hear -ā she shuddered. āI - the wagon sounds are - I donāt know why Iām like this!ā
Mazogga smiled sadly. āYou do, love. You know. But itās alright. These things take time. Weād best keep Jak and the Elder in the back with you, then. They are excellent distractions.ā
Urokka squawked in protest, but Mazogga looked up at her with a half grin that softened the soothsayer immediately.
āDonāt pretend you donāt like a little mystique and penache, Zogga. Weāve known each other for too long.ā
āIād feel better taking a lookout with Kagnu, anyway,ā Mazogga said, her voice conciliatory, āBest to be able to take the reins if her water breaks, even if we both think it wonāt.ā
āDoes that sound good to you?ā Gozukk asked, looking Anna full in the face with a soft concern that she knew meant he couldnāt be talking to anyone else, āYou and I and Jak and Elder Urokka?ā
Anna breathed through her nose, trying to think about the back of the cart as if it wouldnāt be moving, jostling, rattling, impossible. Gozukk and Jak. Gozukk and Jak made her feel safe, and she needed that too much to question it. She didnāt push on the thought, didnāt second-guess it, kept her mind light, dancing over the thought. Gozukk would stay with her regardless. He would stay. She would be safe. Jak. Jak was - āYes, that sounds good,ā she answered.
Jak bounced on his feet. āOh! We can do more language lessons! Like that one time! Especially because youāre gonna meet somebody from another tribe!ā
Elder Urokka nodded. āDonāt mind keeping my leg up for a bit longer. And I wouldnāt mind another look at your palm, child. Might find something reassuring.ā She winked, and Anna managed a weak smile in response.
Gozukk got to his feet and then helped Anna up behind him. Still holding her hand, he said, āWe can stop again, if we need to. None of us will mind.ā
Anna felt her cheeks heat up again, but as she took a steadying breath through her nose, she realized she actually believed him. Strange. She looked him in the eye and nodded. āThank you,ā she answered in orcish, her tongue almost tripping over the unfamiliar syllables, but then managing.
Gozukkās face broke into a smile. He answered in orcish, but then translated when she bit her lip, his voice warm. āYouāre very welcome. Weāll teach you that one, next.ā
ā<<Thank you>> to that, too,ā she answered, the orcish flowing more easily off her tongue this time.
Looking at Gozukkās tusked smile almost made her feel like things would be alright.
Gozukk found himself instinctively hunching inward to protect Anna, rounding his shoulders. She clung to him almost desperately, and he could feel her trembling.
His chest ached. She was shaking, and it was hard not to rush to get her inside, where she might be calmer. But he couldnāt rush, and he couldnāt look panicked or frantic, and he couldnāt frighten her or his people.
He changed his trajectory, taking a longer route around the outside of the camp, rather than charging directly through it. He wasnāt sure he had enough control of his face, or his speed, or his thoughts. He wasnāt sure he knew how to put people at ease, just now, not with the ache filling his torso.
It was a relief to duck into his tent and feel Annaās grip on him relax, just slightly.
cw: blood, trauma, guilt, panic attack, presumed dead
Whumptober2021 no.16
Kevia huddled in the corner, their eyes trained on the bed even as the woman in front of them wiped their bloody hands with a cloth. They felt numb and detached from the world ever as people came and went from the room. They hadnāt reacted when the woman sat in front of them and began to wipe their hands. She was saying something, but Kevia didnāt care to listen. The captain was alive.
Guilt gnawed at them.
Theyād left her to die.
Theyād expected the worst when theyād stumbled back to the ship. They were sure as soon as the first mate figured out what theyād done, that theyād killed a man and left their captains body behind, they were sure he was going to beat them. Who wouldnāt be angry? They were a murderer, and besides that, useless. They couldnāt even keep their master alive. What good were they?
Finally, a visit to Mazogga! Plus some bonus soothsaying from her best friend. And some plot! Ish.
The masterpost is here and includes a cheat sheet with character names/relationships.
tw: past slavery (series), tw: past abuse (series), tw: mind reading, tw: fantasy religion/mysticism, tw: medical, tw: wound care, tw: discussion of pregnancy, tw: discussion of birth
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!
Annaās mind was still half on Jak as she and Gozukk walked to the midwifeās tent. The boy had been so deeply asleep by the time his uncle arrived that Gozukk had been able to pick him up and carry him to bed without him so much as stirring. But at least worrying about him meant she didnāt have to think so hard about where she was going now.
Gozukkās hand on her elbow was gentle, guiding her with no real force toward one of the tents heād pointed out as he was showing her around two nights before, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze when they reached their destination, pausing with his hand halfway to the tent flap until she looked up, realized he was waiting on her, and nodded.
The tent was well-lit and clean, occupied at the moment by two old women. Gozukk bowed slightly in their direction, just deeper than a nod, and said, āElders. This is our new guest, Anna.ā
She followed his lead, ducking her head into a deeper bow so she could be sure they knew she meant to do it.
The woman had been seated on a pair of crates, each with a deep cushion on top of it, but at their entrance, both rose to their feet, putting down cups of tea and bustling over more quickly than Anna had expected, especially the one on the left, who nearly flew in spite of the cane in her hand that she leaned against her hip when she came to a halt.
By the time Gozukk finished, āAnna, these are two of our elders, Elder Mazogga and Elder Urokka,ā one of them, Anna wasnāt sure which, had made it all the way to them and cupped Annaās face in her hands.
The two orc women were wrinkled and hunched and might have come across as wizened if they werenāt both still a half head taller than she was, even now.
The woman holding Annaās face closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to Annaās, and Anna found herself wrapping her hands around the womanās wrists out of instinct, before realizing it might not have been appropriate and freezing in place.
āAnnuithiel,ā the old woman breathed, saying Annaās full name, for the first time in a long time, and Annaās own breaths sped up, a rush of fear she couldnāt explain running through her.
Finally, a visit to Mazogga! Plus some bonus soothsaying from her best friend. And some plot! Ish.
The masterpost is here and includes a cheat sheet with character names/relationships.
tw: past slavery (series), tw: past abuse (series), tw: mind reading, tw: fantasy religion/mysticism, tw: medical, tw: wound care, tw: discussion of pregnancy, tw: discussion of birth
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!
Annaās mind was still half on Jak as she and Gozukk walked to the midwifeās tent. The boy had been so deeply asleep by the time his uncle arrived that Gozukk had been able to pick him up and carry him to bed without him so much as stirring. But at least worrying about him meant she didnāt have to think so hard about where she was going now.
Gozukkās hand on her elbow was gentle, guiding her with no real force toward one of the tents heād pointed out as he was showing her around two nights before, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze when they reached their destination, pausing with his hand halfway to the tent flap until she looked up, realized he was waiting on her, and nodded.
The tent was well-lit and clean, occupied at the moment by two old women. Gozukk bowed slightly in their direction, just deeper than a nod, and said, āElders. This is our new guest, Anna.ā
She followed his lead, ducking her head into a deeper bow so she could be sure they knew she meant to do it.
The woman had been seated on a pair of crates, each with a deep cushion on top of it, but at their entrance, both rose to their feet, putting down cups of tea and bustling over more quickly than Anna had expected, especially the one on the left, who nearly flew in spite of the cane in her hand that she leaned against her hip when she came to a halt.
By the time Gozukk finished, āAnna, these are two of our elders, Elder Mazogga and Elder Urokka,ā one of them, Anna wasnāt sure which, had made it all the way to them and cupped Annaās face in her hands.
The two orc women were wrinkled and hunched and might have come across as wizened if they werenāt both still a half head taller than she was, even now.
The woman holding Annaās face closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to Annaās, and Anna found herself wrapping her hands around the womanās wrists out of instinct, before realizing it might not have been appropriate and freezing in place.
āAnnuithiel,ā the old woman breathed, saying Annaās full name, for the first time in a long time, and Annaās own breaths sped up, a rush of fear she couldnāt explain running through her.
Finally, a visit to Mazogga! Plus some bonus soothsaying from her best friend. And some plot! Ish.
The masterpost is here and includes a cheat sheet with character names/relationships.
tw: past slavery (series), tw: past abuse (series), tw: mind reading, tw: fantasy religion/mysticism, tw: medical, tw: wound care, tw: discussion of pregnancy, tw: discussion of birth
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!
Annaās mind was still half on Jak as she and Gozukk walked to the midwifeās tent. The boy had been so deeply asleep by the time his uncle arrived that Gozukk had been able to pick him up and carry him to bed without him so much as stirring. But at least worrying about him meant she didnāt have to think so hard about where she was going now.
Gozukkās hand on her elbow was gentle, guiding her with no real force toward one of the tents heād pointed out as he was showing her around two nights before, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze when they reached their destination, pausing with his hand halfway to the tent flap until she looked up, realized he was waiting on her, and nodded.
The tent was well-lit and clean, occupied at the moment by two old women. Gozukk bowed slightly in their direction, just deeper than a nod, and said, āElders. This is our new guest, Anna.ā
She followed his lead, ducking her head into a deeper bow so she could be sure they knew she meant to do it.
The woman had been seated on a pair of crates, each with a deep cushion on top of it, but at their entrance, both rose to their feet, putting down cups of tea and bustling over more quickly than Anna had expected, especially the one on the left, who nearly flew in spite of the cane in her hand that she leaned against her hip when she came to a halt.
By the time Gozukk finished, āAnna, these are two of our elders, Elder Mazogga and Elder Urokka,ā one of them, Anna wasnāt sure which, had made it all the way to them and cupped Annaās face in her hands.
The two orc women were wrinkled and hunched and might have come across as wizened if they werenāt both still a half head taller than she was, even now.
The woman holding Annaās face closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to Annaās, and Anna found herself wrapping her hands around the womanās wrists out of instinct, before realizing it might not have been appropriate and freezing in place.
āAnnuithiel,ā the old woman breathed, saying Annaās full name, for the first time in a long time, and Annaās own breaths sped up, a rush of fear she couldnāt explain running through her.
āYes,ā the old woman said, her voice still breathy and strange, āYou have come home, child.ā
The other old woman swatted affectionately at the seerās arm. āHonestly, Rok, youāre scaring the poor girl! Soothsay later, once Iāve gotten a look.ā
Anna was too shocked to keep ahold of Urokkaās wrists as the old woman pulled her hands away from Annaās face, snorting without any real displeasure at her friend.
The midwife moved on, slapping Gozukk lightly on the upper arm. āYouāve certainly waited long enough to bring her! I thought I was going to have to come to your tent myself.ā
Then Mazogga was in front of Anna, her eyes slightly narrowed as she took Anna in. Anna found herself shrinking, pulling her arms in around herself under that sharp gaze. Mazoggaās eyes were surrounded by wrinkles, but they werenāt clouded in the slightest, and Anna felt suddenly naked, too thoroughly seen.
Mazogga patted her elbow. āNothing to be afraid of, dear. Elder Urokka just canāt resist showing off for guests. Never has been able to.ā
āAnd Iāve had three marriages out of it!ā Urokka announced, āNot that she ever remembers to mention that part.ā
Anna stole a glance at Gozukk, and he tilted his head faintly to the side, giving her a reassuring smile.
āLet me see your hand first, love,ā Mazogga said, somewhere between a request and an order, and Anna obeyed without thinking about it.
The midwifeās hands were gentle as she unwrapped the bandages across Annaās hand. āHmm. Good wrap with the bandages, thatāll be you then, wonāt it?ā she said, glancing up at Gozukk before she finished talking but not bothering to wait for a reply. āItāll heal faster with some salves, and not the ones youāve already got at home.ā She patted the back of Annaās hand before she released it. āWeāll get something mixed up for you. Might as well get started on it now.ā
Mazogga took a step back to look over all of Anna at once again. āNow, Iām going to need a look at your back - Iāve heard plenty already, dear, so you donāt have to tell me about it, but Iāll ask my friend to leave if youād be more comfortable just the two of us. Gozukk will be getting more fuel for the fire, if Iām going to get started early, but he wonāt be far away. It was about time to restock anyway, so weāll use what Iāve still got now and send you back off with the first of the new batch.ā
Annaās head was spinning, but Gozukk had already nodded, as if he were used to it.
Urokka sniffed. āNow, Iāve no interest in poking around injuries, you know that. If youāll let me stay, Iāll just be over by the brazier making some tea. Ought to get a good reading directly off you, if I can, love. Round out what Iāve already picked up. You are a bit - muddled, arenāt you?ā
Mazogga bristled. āSheās just fine! Now donāt you go scaring her.ā She turned her eyes back to Annaās face and patted the back of her hand again. āYou just let me know what you prefer, dear. Sheās got her own tent to make tea in, if you want the privacy.ā
Anna felt tongue-tied, and a look over at Gozukk provided no answers, just a raised eyebrow and a tilt of his head that put the question back on her.
Urokka had already picked up the teapot theyād had over their fire and poured the remainder of its contents into her own cup, to start over with a new pot.
Anna tried to steady her breathing and nodded. āItās, um - itās alright. Iām - Iām fine, Elder.ā
Mazoggaās eyes softened as she smiled, patting Annaās elbow again. āI should have known youād be a polite one,ā she said fondly, āSomeone wouldāve spoken ill by now, if you werenāt. But donāt let her bully you into anything.ā
āI donāt bully,ā Urokka said, somewhat stiffly, āI just sometimes act on the future before it happens. You can misinterpret it if you like.ā
Mazogga leaned forward, lowering her voice conspiratorially, āShe does also do that. Itās just not her only trick. But you didnāt hear that from me.ā
Anna couldnāt imagine sheād have heard it from anyone else. She couldnāt imagine saying it for anyone to wonder where sheād heard it. She just nodded.
āAlright, then. Letās get you seated over here. Up on the crate, if you would, saves me bending over so far.ā
Djaana had cleaned her wounds like a friend, or an aunt, or a mother. Mazogga moved like a force of nature, and Anna felt like she was being swept along by a swift current. The midwife murmured to herself as she unwrapped Annaās bandages and examined her injuries, a half-grunted stream of patter Anna could only snatch impressions of. Djaana was getting better, but Dumul was sure to have picked up some bad habits, not that he had come to her first for training anyway, but sheād have to keep an eye out. Master Kir was a long string of things in orcish that didnāt sound like they were good. Anna was doing well, dear, things would be better soon.
The salve Mazogga smoothed across her injuries stung sharply enough, for the first instant, to draw tears to her eyes, but then almost immediately numbed the area, leaving her just with an impression of pleasant coolness.
Mazogga patted her shoulder. āThere we go, good girl. Thatāll heal you up faster, and not feel so bad in the meantime.ā
Mazogga worked quickly, addressing the wounds farther under Annaās clothes first, so that by the time Gozukk stood outside, calling out that heād gotten everything for the fire, she was fully dressed and it only took a raised eyebrow and a nod to confirm that he could come back in.
It felt deeply wrong to still be sitting on the little cushion on the little box when Mazogga knelt down beside her on the floor, ready to treat her calves and feet, and it felt even more wrong to be sitting up so high when she called Gozukk over to do the same. Annaās face flushed deep red, and Urokka made a vague sound of sympathy, pressing a cup of tea into Annaās hands from where she sat on the other box. āNow, drink that up, love. I want a look at the leaves when youāre done.ā
Mazogga showed Gozukk how thick a diffferent salve should go on the faint burns along the bottom of Annaās feet, but before he touched her leg to try it himself on the other foot, he looked up at Anna to check with her. She nodded her permission, and he squeezed her knee comfortingly and then cradled her foot in one large hand, treating the sole with the other.
Anna drank her tea too fast, ignoring how hot it was in favor of the excuse to hide part of her face and think about anything but the fact that she shouldnāt be here, that she should be the one on the floor, that Gozukk would worry if she hyperventilated, if she couldnāt keep herself calm.
āNow, youāve always been a good boy,ā Mazogga said, to Gozukk,Ā āAnd I donāt have to tell you not to try to rebandage anything but her hands and feet yourself, but you might as well bring her back by here rather than asking your sister. I donāt know why you think sheās less intimidating than I am. Sheās at least a foot taller, you know.ā
Urokka had been studying the steam over the teapot intently and grabbed Annaās hand once sheād taken the empty cup out of it, keeping a firm but gentle grip on Annaās fingers while she peered just as intently at the dregs in the bottom of Annaās cup.
āYou can do the rebandaging yourself while weāre on the road,ā she said cryptically, āShe ought to share our tent, anyway. No reason to bring more than two.ā
Mazoggaās face darkened, and for the first time, she looked at Urokka with serious eyes, the sparkle she usually turned toward her friend gone. āI was afraid of that,ā she said softly, āI suppose I shouldnāt be surprised.ā
Mazogga rose to her feet with surprising grace and shoved gently at Annaās shoulder, her motions a little more subdued. āAll right, dear, up you get, youāre all done. Tell me how those new bandages are when you stand on them.ā
āIf it helps, she will heal,ā Urokka said, her voice also growing more serious, with none of the dramatics from before. āOr at least, she can be going to heal.ā
Mazogga sighed as she sank onto the cushion. āYes, I suppose itās best to make an early trip. And who knows. We might get some clarity on the rest of it, too.ā Her eyes turned back to Anna. āYou can put weight on them more easily now?ā she asked.
Anna nodded. āYes, maāam.ā
āGood.ā
āHow many do you think, for the spring?ā Urokka asked, āI have - several thoughts at once. But you know youāve always been the one better with timing.ā
Gozukk cleared his throat, āPardon me, Elders, but is it safe to leave with the caravan still set to return?ā
āOh, donāt worry, theyāll be near two months later coming back than they expected,ā Urokka answered, āAnd before you ask about Kagnuās baby, sheāll be coming along.ā
Mazogga sighed. āItāll be a difficult one, then?ā
āThe waters will help.ā
Anna felt lost again, and standing up while everyone else was seated made her feel like she was being too idle, not moving to serve them, not getting lower out of principle. Her shoulders and upper back felt prickly, and she hadnāt quite managed to calm her blush. She shifted her weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.
Mazoggaās eyes turned back toward her. āOh, sorry, dear, you can sit back down. We think you ought to have a ritual bath at the sacred oasis, and we think it would be better to take you before the tribe is ready to move in full. Itās not strictly healing, so Iām not going to make a fuss about it if youād rather not, but Elder Urokkaās rarely wrong when she reads people. And if the omens are that bad for Kagnu, weāll be needing to go anyway and might as well get ahead of things.ā
Annaās eyes widened. āIs it sacred to - to Kelemvor?ā
Urokka reached over and Anna held out her hand for the woman to hold again. āIt is and isnāt,ā she answered. āItās more - set aside, in general. To be there is a serious thing. A protective one, or an open one, or both. Itās - hmm.ā She looked thoughtful. āIt will not fix you. You will not find radiant light there if you arenāt looking, or if you donāt bring it with you. But it will give you - space. You are beset by storms, my dear, and you will still hurt when the storms are gone and you will still have a long road before you, but the oasis is a place where the storm can rain itself apart and pour into the spring and let you breathe. The gods are there but they are - it is not a temple, as the cities have, nor is there an altar like Mukzodās. But if Kelemvor needs to be there he most certainly will. Heās just not likely to be alone.ā
Gozukk sighed. āI suppose we already knew we wouldnāt be near enough the other tribe when her baby came to have the father there. Iāll - Azzor will understand if I wish to go myself, and I can sleep in the cart so we only need one tent.ā
Annaās eyebrow shot up.
āHeās closer to the oasis than he is to us,ā Mazogga said. āWeāll send him a message. Thatāll set Kagnuās mind at ease, anyway. Theyāve been writing letters, you know. But itāll be easier to decide where theyāll live or if they want to do it together once theyāre face-to-face. And once the baby arrives and isnāt just kicking her, unseen.ā
āTwo tents,ā Urokka said definitively. āWeāll be bringing your nephew.ā
āDumul, Elder?ā Gozukk asked, āIām not sure he-ā
āOh, no, Iām sorry, dear, the other nephew,ā Urokka answered, āDumul knows his way already, bless him.ā
āBless him for a fool,ā Mazogga muttered.
āMany things move at once, now,ā Urokka said, shooting a glare at Mazogga. āBut I can see bits of it clear. Jak will come with us. Heās on the cusp of becoming, more than youāll have realized. You know how sudden it comes on with some young ones - their sense of purpose.ā She smiled, turning to Gozukk. āHe does take after you, nearly as much as he does his father, you know. For all your sister thinks Dumulās the one most like you.ā
Mazogga had been studying Urokkaās face as intently as she ever had Annaās, but she suddenly relaxed in her seat.
āAlright, then. Itāll be good to have an extra set of hands and some quick legs. Best to have someone who can fetch and carry full speed, if weāve got our hands full.ā
āJak does seem to like to move at full speed,ā Anna said softly, sure, right up until Mazogga laughed, that only Gozukk would be able to hear. She blushed again, but the elder seemed amused, not insulted.
āThatāll be his father,ā Mazogga said, āBut Urokkaās right. Heās eager, and hasty, but thereās something under. Always was. Not so unlike you,ā she said, her smile turning briefly to Gozukk, āBut heāll not have the chiefās responsibilities on his shoulders, either. So perhaps unlike in the ways that count, too.ā
Anna realized, all of a sudden, that there was no real choice in the matter. She was still in the strong current of the rest of them, but she wasnāt sure she minded. Not if it might mean peace from the storm. Not if Gozukk would be there. Not if the trip they were talking about was needed anyway, and not only for her.
āI can help too,ā she said softly, āIām not as quick, but I can fetch and carry and boil water. And keep an eye on Jak. He - would the water help with his headaches?ā
Mazoggaās eyes turned inquisitorial again, boring into her. āItās not that kind of medicine,ā she said, after a moment, āBut when we return, I think youād better come around a few times more. I can show you some things that are.ā
Anna didnāt know what that meant, but she knew that even as thinking about it made the pit in her stomach deepen, it also made her feel - hope? She nodded, and Mazogga nodded back, her eyes still locked into Annaās.
Urokka smiled, murmuring under her breath. āMany things move at once, indeed.ā
Oswin had always liked the early morning, even when he was young and gangly and sleeping in a dormitory of other wizarding students who woke with despairing groans and pulled the covers up over their heads as they rolled over to go back to sleep.
There had been a particular kind of pleasure in staying awake after he woke, in lying under his blankets, his body still lax and comfortable from sleep, the light hazy with dawn, and him floating in it, awake but not moving yet, taking it in.
It had been his best time for organizing his thoughts, getting his schedule in mind, getting everything in line, meals and classes and projects and perhaps today he would talk to his crush, if they ran into each other between classes, and perhaps if he snuck into the kitchen he could find out early what dessert would be tonight, and nudge the cook toward something with more chocolate.
Now, he was cold, and the floor was hard under his side, and thinking too hard about the minutia of the day at hand was an exercise in futility and terror, but at least the light was the same, and the quiet, punctuated only by his masterās snoring. At least there was still, against all odds, the thing heād liked the most - clarity.
He knew he was healing, gradually. He could feel his strength returning. Heād eaten yesterday, only once, but that was better than sometimes, lately. He knew the pain in his back would surge up to swallow him the moment he moved, but now it didnāt throb with agony while he was still, and that was something.
He needed to get things in line. Priorities.
He took a deep, careful breath, and then another.
First priority was to find a place he could hide things. He wanted clothing. He wanted his book and his magic focus back. He wanted his component pouches, the ones he couldnāt afford to replace, even if he werenāt here. But there was no point in getting them if he couldnāt store them until he was strong enough to run. Until he had a plan for it.
He thought back through the space, imagining how far he thought he could move without waking his master, weighing the benefits of trying to go a room away, and the drawbacks. Or if he were to move later in the day, when might he be free? What did he know of the manās schedule? What could he make a point of finding out?
He was nearly organized, inside his mind, when the snores from above him suddenly stopped. He froze, fear flashing through him. Then - damn it, there it was - there came the rustling of his master sitting up, moving to rise.
The captainās cold eyes locked onto Oswin and he gestured for Oswin to get up onto his increasingly sore knees, not built for so much kneeling and crawling.
Oswin rose, the pain that rippled across his back making his ears feel empty, full of static. It fuzzed out the clarity heād felt so strongly just a moment before.
His master put a hand under his chin and raised his head, and Oswin forced himself to look into those hard, hard, icy eyes.
āNew day, wizard,ā he said, voice gruff, āI hope you enjoyed having your gag out. I think youāll be keeping it on for breakfast, to make up for it.ā
Oswin whimpered but didnāt let himself pull away. His master wouldnāt hesitate with a backhand again, he didnāt think.
Then the bit was between his teeth and he was following the captain down the stairs, struggling to keep his mind on hiding places instead of on the welling fear of choking again.
The fire in the kitchen was too bright, flickering and wavering, nothing like the sunlight upstairs, but when his master wasnāt looking anymore, too engrossed in his breakfast, Oswin closed his eyes and pictured that soft light from upstairs, still dawn. Things began to come together again. Breathing. He was breathing. He could breathe. And - and he could find a hiding place to secret things away. At least until his master made him open his eyes again, and face the day that was, instead of the day that might be.
Ok but what is everyoneās comfort media? Because I feel like it says so much about people, some of them are absolutely bizarre and not something that would ever bring me comfort, but I find it so cool when there that one movie that youāve watched so many time or have such a niche and special connection too.
How do you handle commoners learning magic in your universe? I am working on my D&D universe and am trying to figure out how pervasive the intrinsic magic classes (so everything that isnāt wizards or warlocks) is outside of cities and how commoners could use magic competently without any training.
In this setting Iām using, my 5E world of Tsanet, magic is a good deal rarer than say Faerun. Not every priest or priestess or cleric is one who can do divine blessings, for example, although the ones so gifted tend to rise in rank more often. A village is extremely lucky if their sole wise one is a low level cleric or wizard or sorceror. Generally theyāre just someone older, wiser and more educated, or even once in a while a fraud.
āPCā type characters are not even very common in Tsanet, and will get noticed unless they try hard not to be. Nonhumans canāt just stroll into a tavern in this world without getting at the very least a few looks to check them out. Itās overall a lower fantasy setting, but yours doesnāt have to be unless you like that kind of thing!
If you want commoners in your setting to be able to sometimes use small amounts of magic naturally, or as they practice, maybe you could have some rare people be, say call it Gifted: able to do 1-3 Cantrips, then start taking Levels of Exhaustion after doing it more than a few times, depending on how much theyāve practiced their neat trick. They might even make their living with their one cantrip, like Mending for a laundress who can do 1-hour Tailoring for travelers.
Maybe thatās how some wizard and warlock PCs get their start- by finding they had a little knack they could use and wanting more.
Now, nothing brings the Meticulous Experts out of the woodwork like mentioning a Game Mechanic, I swear itās like cats and a can opener,
so I am sure someone else will comment on this post with exhaustive knowledge of how to do this, if it gets reblogs.
Oh! Oh!! You shake the dice can!! You shake the dice can for mechanics!! This is actually the opposite vibe of the Miette meme because Iām happy/excited about it but itās too late now!!
I donāt DM, I just play, but I do generally prefer playing in higher-magic settings and I think about d&d worldbuilding a lot and do most of my writing in it, and I do indeed have Some Ideas, though Iām not sure itās exhaustive knowledge.
I think the thing Red mentioned about non-humans in general being rare in Tsanet is really important, because mechanically, several d&d races/subraces automatically get some low-level magic. Presumably, the knowledge of how to handle these abilities gets passed down from parent to child, is genuinely instinctive, or happens at a general community level.
High elves just get āa cantrip out of the wizard spell listā so thatās a little less predictable (and could maybe be something they cover in school?) but drow specifically get dancing lights, and then more than that for adventurers as they go up in power. If your characters are in a drow city or in a community where drow are present, it wouldnāt necessarily be unusual or unexpected to see people casually lighting up their work space with little globes.
Forest gnomes get minor illusion, which I always imagined child gnomes being absolute nuisances with.
Tieflings get thaumaturgy, which even though itās not particularly powerful has such a wide range of uses that itās quite versatile.
If you wanna get weird, aasimar have the light cantrip, firbolg have once-per-rest uses of detect magic and disguise self, tritons get fog cloud, and yuan-ti have poison spray, plus animal friendship but only on snakes.
(Itās possible my books were at hand when I saw this, lol.)
My point with this is that if your world has a lot of diversity outside of cities, or if communities of different people live close by each other, there would be people a young sorcerer, etc. could talk to to understand their abilities without necessarily having to Adventure about it. A fishing town by the ocean with regular contact with tritons or a forest town with gnomish neighbors would be better able to handle low-level magic than a purely human community on their own, away from other groups. So part of this question is about how much racial groups separate themselves or how much human is the default. If most towns have a couple of non-human families, itās going to be different than if they donāt.
I think the other thing to think about is professions.
Bards and wizards have specific training in specific colleges and schools. Is going off to school for those things a career path a small handful of townsfolk might do, or is it frowned upon? What kind of jobs might they be doing when they get back, and to what extent would they be encouraged to come back home with their knowledge, vs. stay in the city and āmake something of themselvesā? Does the tavernkeeperās family send their kids off for a year of bard college, and they come back halfway to level one and with some useful skills that mostly work? Do the best and brightest of the townās kids go off to wizard school until the money runs out and then come home not really wizards but with some skills and knowledge?
Similarly, clerics, paladins, and druids are organized; to what extent is it normal to have a temple or druid circle near a town? I definitely assume more magic from religious communities than is in Redās particular worldbuilding, in part because paladins and clerics are among my favorite classes to play and Iāve had some other characters raised in that setting who had deep anxieties about not getting the divine magic all their peers got and what that meant for them, which was super fun to play. Some deities are probably not going to have churches out in the boonies, but itās not unreasonable to think that there might be small communities in holy orders to nature deities or deities of agriculture that could be near enough to be a resource for small communities. If druids are common away from cities, the occasional druidic visitor isnāt going to be a shock to people, and thatās another resource for anybody who finds themself suddenly doing a little magic they arenāt particularly eager about.
Basically, the extent to which someone with innate magic can live a normal life without becoming an adventurer or the extent to which your average person can do and control low-level magic depends a lot on resources. In a setting where outside the cities, almost everyone is human and mundane, there arenāt a lot of resources. In a setting where different communities are closer neighbors or resources are close enough to access, more magic is possible. In one setting, having innate magic means you have to go Adventuring to learn to handle it, in another, that can just be Joe, the dude with weirdly metallic grey eyes whoās fine now that he spent a week with the druids and stopped sneezing out ice, or Jane, that girl who definitely freaked out the first time she made light and we are all a little bit gossiping about whether or not her dad is her real dad, but the priests down the road a pace in that little cloister fixed her right up and sheās got a handle on it now.
Or basically another way, if you want your bartender to casually clean glasses with magic, they went to the city for a year of bard college or wizard school before they came home to take over the family business, but theyāre neither a bard nor a wizard, and thatās ok. Sometimes their old school friends come to visit, but they did full programs at school and are very magic and very exciting and the bartender is just normal. The shopkeeper did learn an alarm spell by mail, but the town healer has asked that please anyone else planning to learn magic, no more correspondence courses, there are druids not two daysā walk away from here, and they presumably donāt let you mess up badly enough to light your hand on fire three times in one day and tire out your local cleric, Geoffrey.
[Would like to caveat again that I donāt DM, I just play, so how to do this in a DM way, I could not tell you. I think Redās idea of just a couple of cantrips sounds like a good way to go and seems practical, but I donāt actually much know how to judge that sort of thing for a DM.]
Ed would ask San if he always knew he was evil, if he was evil on purpose or if his patron made him, and if he thinks heās evil now. Heād also ask, very tentatively, if maybe some of the people he knew and worked with when he was evil might have been good, actually? (Ed is Not Projecting and has No Particular Anxieties About Warlocks, Thank You Very Much)
"Ooh, poor Noble Knight... You got some Hangups on the Good and Evil thing, dontcha? Am I Good? Or am I Evil now? Black or White, Night or Day, no in-betweens for you at all. Tch. What a way to live! If you're not Perfect, you're Damned, is that it? So basically everyone is damned. Sheesh. I'll pass. Sounds Arostian to me.
I've never thought of myself as "Eville", no. I knew I was up to no good and that I was doing whatever I wanted, and that it was probably wrong- definitely wrong- and I decided I didn't care about the morals of it anyway. It got me what I wanted. That was the point. The deal with the Raging Fiend didn't "Make Me Evil", I decided what I wanted and it was a way to get power.
I didn't look at people I worked with and declare them Perfect or Damned, no. Hells only know how good or bad they are on some kind of scale, but mostly? Were were all people who wanted something, wanted it more than we wanted anything else. Most people do want something. But we decided to get it by any means and well, that can lead to unsavory things. So you decide- how badly do I want what I want? What will I do to get it?" He shrugs.
"How about you, Noble Knight? On your two way register are you Good or Evil? Who gets to be Good? And who decides that? Sounds pretty awful. I'll stick to being me, thanks. Whoever he is now."
Ed hasnāt sat still long enough to actually think about his assumptions, but when he does, itās gonna be A Moment for him for sure. He finds this answer weirdly reassuring in spite of it being what he thinks of as exceedingly vague, because heās fairly certain that the things Castor wants arenāt dangerous things and heās not going to do bad things to get them if he can help it. But itās less reassuring that he himself can relate to putting the thing you want over your morality but HAHA he doesnāt need to think about that right now canāt think about that right now (oh gods) THIS IS ABOUT CASTOR NOT HIM HE IS GOOD AND FINE AND HIS KING IS GOOD ACTUALLY SO THATāS WHAT MATTERS ISNāT IT?
I am having a phenomenally shitty day and I was just wondering what Yves is like as a caretaker for sick people, especially the kids. Is he good at the feeling your forehead for a fever thing, or does he make you use a thermometer and sit still because itās still so amazing to have accessible and precise tools? Is he a hoverer with frequent check-ins or a hands off but hereās exactly how to get my attention kind of person? Will he spoon feed people soup? Could he please just put his cool-not-cold hands on my face and leave them there until I feel less terrible? If youāre a sick kid in the house heās running, do you get to veg out and watch tv or read, or is he an if-youāre-too-sick-to-study-youāre-too-sick-to-play type of parental surrogate?
Alternately, he seems like he would be an absolute nightmare of a patient, always trying to get up. Is that the case? If so, what caretakers does he actually behave himself with/let care for him without fighting it? (Iām not obsessed with Brian in the new part. At all.) Or does he just not GET sick?
Yves is a fantastic caretaker. Especially with the kids. He'll feel your forehead to see if you have a fever, or just sit with a hand there because it's cool and helps you feel better. Definitely a partial hoverer who makes silent check-ins to be sure you're sleeping. Or just in case you need anything. The glass of water by the bedside table stays full. If you need help with soup he will sit there and patiently help, however long it takes. He will make sure you take your medicine whatever nasty stuff you end up prescribed. But he'll give you a ginger biscuit afterward, for being brave.
If you're a sick kid in the Hall, then depending on your inclination and age you may be read Peter Rabbit, Winnie the Pooh stories, Tales of Robin Hood, Treasure Island, the Hobbit, the Once and Future King, or Beowulf. Possibly Midsummer Night's Dream or other Shakespeare if you ask nicely. Of course you can listen to stories when you cannot do schoolwork, and "besides, it's Literature," he'd protest if anyone argues. He may also sneak you a few hours of television watching on the sofa in the Drawing Room. You might have to sit through Star Trek (original series especially). He and Edith used to watch it.
He is very rarely a Patient himself, since he can't get ill of diseases, but he can be injured enough to need time to heal and rest. Many of his past Masters have been sometimes fooled by him claiming to be Fine but some catch on, and learned to force him to take a day off to rest.
A fresh feeding and plenty of rest will fix pretty much any of his problems but getting him to stop trying to do his job or look after other people and rest can be a bit tricky. Miss Edith used to sit and watch tv with him, which is how she got him into Star Trek. Previous Masters have assigned him to lie on the Drawing Room sofa and listen to music being practiced, and give critiques, to sit in a deck chair in some shade and watch horseback dressage and riding exercises to see how a horse is doing, or to listen to the children practice their reading for him, as ways to keep him occupied in a helpful manner.
Omg so cute! Now Iām thinking about Yves badly injured and under the care of one of the people who as kids used to practice their reading with him when he was recovering, halting and effortful, but now theyāre an adult. You just sit right there, Yves, youāve had a hole through your kidney and I have a new sci-fi novel and I simply must practice my reading. And besides, itās Literature. And he knows exactly what theyāre doing, but here they are, doing it, and then he gets caught up in the swing of the story, read smoothly and expressively, with the little grins and asides and glances over of an adult reading to a person they care about, and for a moment, the passage of time strikes him, for the millionth time, but it isnāt in a bad way. Maybe they were kind of a sickly child and heās also pleased that they genuinely do love books and he raised a reader? But they do have such fond memories of being read to when they were small, and wellā¦ sometimes thatās all it takes.
1) buzzfeed means comprehensive, not comprehension, a thing Iām not usually pedantic enough to call out, but actually itās fine, yāall, you donāt have to understand the songs, just answer a lot of questions
2) it added 6 years for me but then the summary of what my age means does not at all align with my actual answers, which is just frankly a fascinating string of wrong answers
Ā This is part 17! It was supposed to be fluff and angst and it is definitely both of those things, but I couldnāt get them both to fit in before the read-more.
There is now a masterpost, which can be found here.
Castor is a warlock, in service to the Great Old One and the Dark Emperor, in that order. Ed is a fighter, a knight and battle master in the service of the True King of Lumenea. They have always been enemies. Away from it all, they might be able to become something else. Maybe even friends.
(This time: Ed has his hair washed. Castor has an unpleasant realization.)
tw: aftermath of torture, tw: mind reading, tw: captivity, tw: scars, tw: threats (maybe???)
Castorās hands were gentle in Edās hair, his fingers running tenderly along his scalp, careful not to pull too hard as he worked the knots out of the wet locks. Periodically, he found one of the places Edās hair had been pulled hardest or used as a grip to drag him by, and Ed wasnāt sure what it meant that it was easier than ever to let little noises of discomfort out as Castor brushed against the scabs left behind.
Ed was mostly in the water, half floating, and his limbs were warm away from the cool breeze of the surface. Castor had rubbed at the base of Edās skull and down through the back of his neck, at first working soap into his hair, but then lingering, easing out muscle tension, warm and gentle, all the way down into the less injured portions of his shoulders, and Ed was floating, and he was tired, and if he let himself think about anything but the gentleness of the fingers on his scalp, he found himself trapped thinking about the pain that still radiated from his bound knee, throbbing with his pulse and running up his thigh and down his calf, and he couldnāt - he had to - the hands in his hair felt nice.
The soft grunts that escaped him almost before he noticed them were sparked, this time, by pains so small, so insignificant, next to the barely-lessened agony in his knee, that they almost werenāt pain at all, but only surprise. And yet, he couldnāt stop the sounds. He tried to convince himself that it was on purpose, that he was still being āentertaining,ā that there was nothing comforting about just letting the soft, instinctive noises flow out of him as he melted under Castorās fingers, but he had never been that good at pretending. Not to himself.
A soft moan broke from his throat and he wasnāt even sure, anymore, if it was a sound of pain or pleasure, but the soft āshhhā Castor responded with was more reassurance than instruction, and Ed gave up worrying about it, keeping his eyes shut and just letting himself relax and try not to overthink.
