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Ari is... so, so lost. He didn't know this amount of lost was physically possible. One minute he's in a briar maze deep in Winter picking frostberries for a pie, then he takes four left turns and he exits the briar and he's in a temperate forest. Not even any snow on the ground. He turns around and there's no thicket to be seen.
He puts the frostberry pouch in his backpack and mutters the incantation to open a Way back to the mortal realm; he might land somewhere dangerous, but better endangered in the mortal realm than completely lost in the Nevernever. And... nothing. Literally nothing happens, no backlash or fizzling or anything that would indicate that he fucked up a spell, but the kind of nothing that happens when you don't have a spell to cast.
In something of a panic, he tests that he still has magic by punching a nearby tree, which splinters and crashes to the ground. "So that's still working, I guess," he mutters. "Punching systems: still online."
So, recap: magic works, he just got snatched out of deep Winter territory and put into something that kind of looks like the Wyld, and the Ways are on the fritz. Either something big is screwing with him or he's very much not in Kansas anymore. Either way, he'd better figure out what the hell is going on.
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bitterchill
bitterchill
"Trial and error, mostly. I can come up with some low-risk rituals that could work if something's good and fail harmlessly if it isn't, but it'll take me a while to cover all my bases. But I'd probably see if you've got any healing plants first, it is pretty important."
"There are some plants that help with healing, but I obviously have no idea how they'd interact with your sort of magic."
bitterchill
"Hm. I'd probably like to look at those soonish, sir, if they've got baked-in magic. That could be even better than what I've got. But again, I've got a good supply of the vervain and unless someone breaks a leg or something it probably won't go away any time soon." He deems the supply of blood sufficient, plasters his elbow over with a bit of clay he apparently had in one of his pockets, and smooths an airtight layer of stone over the blood in the bowl.
"I'll pick some up next time I'm out foraging, but the principal reason that I'm so pleased to have you is that you're unexpected," says the fairy. "Even sorcerers won't expect you."
bitterchill
"I could use them to augment my magic, is what I'm saying. Using them instead of the vervain and such. Seems like it might have interesting effects. But I do understand the principle, sir."
He sets the bowl down. Very slowly, avoiding dizziness, he sketches out a runic circle around himself, throws a pinch of powdered root into the air, then intones a few minutes of vague Germanic chant about the wholeness of the body and the blessed restoration of vitality and so on. A faint red glow branches out from his chest along his body, and by the end he looks a bit less ashen. He strips the clay off his (no longer bleeding) elbow and melds it back into the supply in his pocket.
He sets the bowl down. Very slowly, avoiding dizziness, he sketches out a runic circle around himself, throws a pinch of powdered root into the air, then intones a few minutes of vague Germanic chant about the wholeness of the body and the blessed restoration of vitality and so on. A faint red glow branches out from his chest along his body, and by the end he looks a bit less ashen. He strips the clay off his (no longer bleeding) elbow and melds it back into the supply in his pocket.
The fairy watches all this with interest but has no further commentary.
bitterchill
In that case, Ari can return to his work on the ritual and his valiant attempt to explain his work to the fairy. It's actually kind of a good thing, he explains, that there are no animals, because using his own blood means more power will go into the circle. Which makes things a bit easier.
"At some point you should see if fairy blood will work for this sort of thing," muses the fairy. "What's the smallest amount you could test that with?"
bitterchill
"Ooh." Ari wasn't going to mention it, because it seemed a bit of a faux pas to suggest bleeding one's master, but he's glad it's an option on the table. "I could test it with... hm. If you don't mind possibly being flashed with a very bright light if it turns out your blood is more potent, there's a simple pyrotechnic illusion I could incorporate it into. How does that sound? It'd only take a small cup's worth, I can heal you up the same way I did for me."
"Are you sure?" the fairy asks. "That you can heal me the same way."
bitterchill
"Best test that, I think," Ari says cheerfully. "I can prick you with a pin or something and we'll test it that way?"
"No you can't," snorts the fairy.
bitterchill
...Ah. Inconvenient. For a few reasons, not all of which Ari is going to mention. "You could prick yourself then?"
"I could, or I could wait for my other vassal to get home. Do try to get along with her, by the way." That one's an order.
bitterchill
"That works, sir. And I usually get along with people pretty well."
There are people who don't get along with him, but they generally eat babies. Or they don't like his habit of saying spectacularly insensitive things, one or the other.
There are people who don't get along with him, but they generally eat babies. Or they don't like his habit of saying spectacularly insensitive things, one or the other.
"Good, because she's well-behaved enough that I'd consider giving her your name if there are any problems."
bitterchill
Ari's face freezes into its grin and he goes very, very still. His mind fills with beautiful thoughts of destroying this creature, as he has destroyed so many others who looked so much like it. He wonders what color its blood is. He wonders if its bones are as fragile as they look. It's as if he could just reach out and snap them like glass.
"Yes, sir."
"Yes, sir."
Ruffle, ruffle. Forehead-kiss. "There's a good mortal. Now go on with what you were doing."
bitterchill
Ari's hands shake slightly, and his next sigil twists in on itself like a broken toy. His pencil crushes itself into powder in his hands, and the air around him fills with humming static.
He closes his eyes and forces himself to breathe the way Belinda taught him when he was this angry back home. Her smooth voice fills his head, repeating the mantra she taught him.
Ice and fire, ice and snow. Hate, but never let it show. Ice and fire, ice and snow. Hate, but never let it show.
He closes his eyes and forces himself to breathe the way Belinda taught him when he was this angry back home. Her smooth voice fills his head, repeating the mantra she taught him.
Ice and fire, ice and snow. Hate, but never let it show. Ice and fire, ice and snow. Hate, but never let it show.
"What's wrong?" inquires the fairy dangerously.
bitterchill
"I apologize, sir." Not "I'm sorry." He's not allowed to lie.
Slow, careful words. Even, careful tone. Ari's face arranges itself into absolute neutrality. "I was afraid, and my magic reacted. It does not happen often. I can calm myself with a few moments to breathe."
Slow, careful words. Even, careful tone. Ari's face arranges itself into absolute neutrality. "I was afraid, and my magic reacted. It does not happen often. I can calm myself with a few moments to breathe."
"Well, don't make trouble with my other vassal and I won't need to let her stop you from doing it," says the fairy reasonably. Ruffle. "It's quite up to you."
bitterchill
Ari does not flinch away from the ruffle. It is a substantial effort, but he is already remaining very, very still. Ice and fire, ice and snow. "Yes, sir."
He erases the crushed rune with an incantation in a whispered monotone. He draws it properly, line by line. He considers the next, sketches it in the same way. As he continues down the row, he regains his easy speed. He breathes naturally. After two more rows, he begins to explain what he's doing again.
He erases the crushed rune with an incantation in a whispered monotone. He draws it properly, line by line. He considers the next, sketches it in the same way. As he continues down the row, he regains his easy speed. He breathes naturally. After two more rows, he begins to explain what he's doing again.
The fairy sits and watches and listens.
bitterchill
Having recovered almost entirely from his blind rage, Ari can work and ramble about things vaguely parallel to his work for quite some time. Eventually, however, he begins to feel the effects of the healing ritual and his accidental magic.
"Could I please have some food, sir?"
"Could I please have some food, sir?"