She had intended to spend the day relaxing with Saman, wading in the lake and enjoying his company and conversation. Travelling from town to town offering healing is rewarding, but stressful, and sometimes she just needs to take some time to herself.

This plan is sidetracked by the sudden arrival of her godly parent. 

 She mantles her wings, rising to her knees on her brother's back as she takes in their words. Of course she knows of Ara'Vine - you could hardly avoid hearing of him, growing up in the god of healing's temple. Opinions are greatly divided, priest to priest, with some few commending his efforts to combat disease and injury, while others rail at his meddling in fields which ought not concern him. 

Personally, Erin sides with the former, but she certainly won't say so to her parent, considering their scorn. 

When they come to the conclusion of their explanation for visiting them, Erin can hardly believe her ears. The offer of a power equal to Ara'Vine's is more than she ever dared imagine she might be offered, no matter how suited to her parent's domain she might be. Even if it takes her whole life to become a tenth as proficient with it as he, she will do more good than she could in a lifetime without it. 

"I would be overjoyed to accept, Father," she states. 

The god of healing nods, and spreads their wings wide. 

A blue-white light flows from the god to Erin.  It swirls around her like water, clinging to her skin for just a moment before vanishing and leaving behind a new sensation in her chest.  A reservoir of power, currently 'shut' though with the knowledge that she can 'open' it to use it at any time.

She breathes deep, adjusting to the sensation. So this is what a Sorcery feels like. She looks up at her parent and bows gratefully, "Thank you, Father," she says, "You may be assured that I will put your gift to good use." 

They nod in farewell, then ascend into the sky.

OK. So that happened. 

She looks down at Saman, "That actually happened." 

She grins. 

He looks back at her, amused, "It did," he rumbles, turning them towards the shore, "And I can only assume you intend to begin testing your new Sorcery immediately." 

She coughs, chagrined, "Sorry, Sam. I know I said we would spend the day relaxing, but..." 

She pokes at the reservoir of power in her chest, carefully cracking it open, her hands planted on Saman's back, to see what she can feel using it. 

A wave of knowledge floods her mind, filling her awareness completely.  It isn't any of the senses she's used to - maybe closest to proprioception.  A sense of exactly what is going on in her body.  Her heart is beating, each blood cell now noticeable as it travels.  The work of every hair follicle slowly growing hair.  Nerves, saliva glands, muscles, bones.  Trillions of cells, each living in a dizzyingly complex system.  Even as someone with knowledge of anatomy, it'll take her a while to place even a fraction of this jumble of information.  

Flaws and problems pop out of the noise like moving items on a still background.  Particles of smoke from fireplaces in her lungs, bacteria and viruses in the battle with her immune system, toxins on their way to her liver or kidneys, skin cells being shed.  Nothing big is wrong with her, but the magic seems to want to be used to heal before anything else.  It almost seems to be pulling towards being used to heal like a dog pulling on its leash.  

She can change things, not just heal, but that probably isn't a good idea until she has a better idea of how.

There is also the awareness of the power slowly getting depleted.  It can only be on for so long before it'll run out, though it will regenerate with time.  Ara'Vine is said to have about 6 hours per week, so that's likely how much she has as well.

Overwhelmed by the new information, she has to take a few moments to take it in. She gazes unseeing into the distance, focus on the feedback from her new Sorcery. The information is... A Lot. 

Once she has a semblance of a handle on it, she starts paying attention to what it's actually telling her. The first-hand knowledge is so much better than even the in-depth study she partook in throughout her time at the temple. She can put names to many of the things she can now sense, but the difference between knowing and really feeling is incredible.

As for these little damages and inefficiencies here and there... 

Well, if it wants to heal, she might as well let it heal. There's no safer person to test her new abilities on than herself. She can also pay attention to the power depletion at the same time, to see if and how the healing changes how much she uses. 

The magic knows what it's doing for healing, and she can see what it does as it fixes the small issues.  Even that is complex - presumably she'll have to learn how to manage all of the parts manually when she gets around to trying something that the magic isn't going to assist with.  It takes only a few seconds for the magic to clear everything to its satisfaction.

The magic seems to have two states: off and on.  Whether she's just looking or letting it heal or changing things it'll drain at the same rate.  

It's good that healing doesn't use her reserves up more rapidly, but this does raise some concerns. She'll have to make tradeoffs between taking time to learn how to do more and actually healing people... 

Still, she's pleased with the small fixes to her own body.

Curious, she turns to Saman, "Can I try examining you, Sam? I won't do anything else without asking." 

"Of course," he says, pausing in his swimming to float while she looks. 

So she looks. What can she sense? As much as her own body? What is this particular monster's anatomy like? 

She can't get the magic to sense him at all.

Hmm. That's problematic.

She knows it's possible - Ara'Vine can do it, so so can she, in theory. 

Start with what she knows she can do. She pays attention to her own body, trying to see how far her attention of it stretches. When does she stop having awareness of the things her body produces? Can she sense the spit in her mouth? In her hand, if she spits in it? On a handkerchief, if she wipes it off? 

She can sort of sense the spit in her mouth.  It's a little 'quieter' than things that are more obviously her but she can focus on it if she tries.  The detection stops entirely once it leaves her mouth, even if its touching her hand.

Hmmmm.

She takes out her beltknife and very carefully cuts the heel of her hand. Can she sense the blood on her hand once it leaves her body? (And how frantic is her power to heal that cut?)

Once it's past the cut, the blood stops being 'her' for magical purposes.

The way the cut stands out against the rest of the Information Flood is the same as with the smaller issues.  The magic pulls in the same way as before too, not upset so much as eager to be used.

She heals it, planning to leave her current line of experiments be. Things inside her body are more or less part of it, things outside it are not.

Though, on that note... 

She pulls out a breadroll she was saving for lunch and takes a bite. Does it become part of her once it's in her mouth and mixed with her saliva? 

It very slowly becomes a part of her bit by bit as the saliva starts breaking it down.  Bits that are swallowed become part of her noticeably faster. 

This is surprisingly exhausting to work through, and she's been losing track of time focusing on it.  About a sixth of the reserve is spent, even with shutting it off when not focusing on it.

Surprised at the time lapsed, she turns off the power to focus on the world around her. 

"How long has it been?" 

"A while," Sam tells her, having gone back to swimming in circles after a while. "Did it work?"

"No, I can't get it to focus on anythig but me. I wonder how Ara'Vine does it?" 

She's a little frustrated. Sure healing herself is useful, and knowing her body so intimately can only be helpful for understanding the human body, even if she isn't exactly human. But if she can't actually use it to heal other people... 

Well, for one thing, her divine parent will be unimpressed with her. She hasn't been particularly motivated by their approval since she was a child, but compounded with disappointing herself? It's not a nice prospect. 

 "Why not ask him then?"

She blinks, startled by the idea. 

"That... isn't exactly in the spirit of Father's bet, is it?" She says hesitantly. 

"That's not why you accepted that power, is it?" He reminds her. 

"...No. It isn't." 

Ara'Vine is said to be at the Olivine Monastery. He's been there for most of the past century. It shouldn't take her terribly long to get there if she and Sam just make their way down the river from here, then cross the ocean to reach the mouth of the Soth river. They can stop at the villages on the way, and she can offer what healing she had been capable of before she gained this Sorcery, and try to figure out how to use it on others for herself in the meantime. 

"Downriver, then, if you don't mind, Sam," she directs him. 

Sam obliges, humming contentedly as he goes. 

They travel for a few days through the southeastern edge of Garnethold, stopping at islands along the way for food and rest.  Then it's east along the northern coast of Soth for a few days beyond that.  There are many villages dotting the shoreline as they go, happy for the help of a traveler trained in medicine at her father's church.  A Wandering Healer ensures that all village healers are following the proper protocols and are informed of the latest medical discoveries, keeps an eye out for places where healers are sparse or badly supplied, and in general assists with anything they can. 

The magic does seem to steadily regenerate at a rate of slightly less than an hour per day.  

Meanwhile, Ara'Vine has been packing up to leave. 

He'd originally been sent to Olivine Monastery to help it with a potential battle against Eunova the God of Architecture.  When that had fallen through, he'd been content to remain for another decade, even somewhat enjoying the place.  Creating vaccines, medical plants, and advancing medicine with the help of the well-organized monks.

However, with the chance of fighting over, the God of the Dead had stopped paying close attention to his monastery.  The monks, left to their own devices, had eventually devolved into squabbling for status, skimming profits, and the other usual sorts of problems one developed when too accustomed to wealth.  

Ara'Vine had already given his remaining stash of chargestones away to his favorite monks.  His room had accumulated a number of nice things over the years, but there wasn't much point to bringing them with him.  He had his orich-tungsten mask, his spool of weight-wire, and a bag of empty diamonds set into coins to fill as he could.  The rest of the space in his bag could be food and a lightweight tent.  

Perhaps the south pole would be a nice place to visit next?

A massive city-sized being bends into visibility, dizzyingly choosing to appear to be both at her normal size and yet somehow also fit within the confines of the cluttered adobe-walled room.  Her thousands of crystalline eyes glint and blink from across a body that resembles both a dragon and a bulb of garlic.

"I think you should go north instead."

Ara'Vine blinks at the geometric impossibility for a moment. 

"You know I like to know the reason for things," he reminds her.

"The god of healing is upset at you again for upstaging them with these last decades of productivity.

"They and I made a bet. We've turned their current demigod child into a sorcerer with an exact copy of your power. They think she can get beyond your skill level with the power in under a century.

"The child is reasonable and concluded that the fastest way to improve would be to learn from you directly. They'll be coming south down the river any day now. If you head north, you can meet up with them and become the girl's teacher."

"You don't want to win the bet?"

Indifference.  

"It's unlikely we'll win either way.  The child is driven in a way you aren't.  This is just a way to make Paean happy so they don't go after you in a more destructive manner."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he mutters sarcastically.  

But it did make sense.

Beyond that, it would be nice to have someone to share the burden with.  He hated how he couldn't go a year - a month, a week - without feeling like he wasn't allowed to take a break without people dying.  Wanting to go somewhere quiet and live on a mountaintop or something, only to be dragged back by guilt that every month he wasn't working was counted in lives lost to disease.  

Not to mention all of the people who would crowd around, asking for more than he could give.  Having to say 'no' to a hundred tragic stories of dying children and blindness and missing limbs, because 6 hours of magic is barely enough for a small village, let alone the world.  Because it is more efficient to spend a hundred hours making a vaccine that can save ten thousand lives than manually healing a hundred missing arms with that time.  

Maybe if this demigod is as reasonable as Diamondeye thinks, then in a century he can finally wander off into the woods and just send her chargestones every so often.

As Diamondeye's presence fades from the room and it stops being so geometrically impossible, he makes his way to the door and leaves, heading north.    

Their route northeast through Garnethold sees them passing through many villages they'd already passed through. There are few new cases in these, growing slowly in number as she gets farther along. Mostly there are the old ones, which she couldn't fix with only her knowledge and the medicines she carries, and cannot fix now, unable to use her Sorcery to help. This only drives her on more, the thought of what she could do to help if only she could use it on others. 

But it is worth it to stop in the villages, still, despite her determination, especially once they reach Soth. Every life saved is a life saved, all suffering eased is as valuable as easing any other. 

The latest is large enough to have a small hospital. Sam crawls out of the water, pulling in his flippers and plodding over to the edge of the settlement on his legs. She hops off his back once they're on land, walking beside him and stretching out her limbs until he settles down. 

"I'll see you later," she says, hugging him around the neck, "This one might take longer than most - it's a large town. I'll sleep out here so you can make sure I actually do, though, I promise." 

"Pace yourself," he reminds her, "This town will still be here tomorrow." 

"It will," she nods. 

She hugs him again, and makes her way into the settlement, beelining for the hospital. She's a bit light in supplies, as well - hopefully the hospital will have medicines she lacks, but she should check the markets for a relevant merchant later. 

The hospital is an old L-shaped stone building with two floors and a flat roof.  There's a path with lots of benches and a large tree nestled into the empty space of the L.  An herb garden circles around that with neat rows of plants.  Most of the herbs are easily recognized, but there are some palm-tree-shaped succulents in pots along the back wall which are unfamiliar.  A stylized wooden statue of the God of Healing stands at the center of the garden beneath the tree.  It and the tree's trunk are decorated in draping ropes covered in brightly-colored paper charms cut into the shapes of birds or feathers - prayers for good health.  

A few patients are sitting along the path.  There are two men in white robes of different cuts tending the herbs, and an old woman hanging up laundry.  

She eyes the cactus plants with interest, but stops before the icon before anything and bows - this step is automatic at this point, most villages appreciate when visitors honour the divine statuary they put up. Then she turns to the nearest of the robed men. 

"Excuse me," she murmurs, "I am Erin, a traveling healer, trained in my Father, Paean's temples. If I would not be interfering, I would be pleased to offer my expertise to anyone ailing from unusual illnesses, and to assist in handling your more common cases as well." 

She has a token marking her as trained thus, which she takes out to show the man - though many will take one look at her wings and simply believe her words, she believes it's best not to encourage that habit. 

The man in the robes of a healer bows to her.  "We would be honored to accept your presence and your help."

He begins speaking about the current state of the town's health.  Silcardine's town government has ensured all people have shoes, which prevents many infections common to the region.  They've had problems with people drinking the river water lately.  Perhaps they would remember to head to the safer wells if prompted by someone with more obvious authority?

The other robed man, obviously foreign and wearing robes more suited to a travelling pilgrim or nomad, watches curiously from where he was kneeling between rows of plants near the back of the garden.  

She commends their shoes policy, and would be more than pleased to remind people of the dangers of river water! And, perhaps, that boiling water makes it safer. 

The man in foreign robes does grab her attention somewhat. She eyes him curiously back.  

"If it would not burden you, I would ask to replace some of my depleted stores of herbs from your garden before I begin," she requests of the healer. "I will compensate you, of course - I know running a hospital is not easy." 

The water problem is less to do with bacteria than with runoff from whatever happened in Xeni.  Slow poisoning that builds up over months or years of exposure.  They've been testing filters for the irrigation to food crops, but the alchemists say the wells are purer. 

They do have plenty of herbs and medicines.

She frowns, "What happened in Xeni?" She asks. One drawback to spending months at a time traveling around to small villages is that news just doesn't get to her as quickly as it did at the temple. 

"There was some kind of massive explosion or possibly a meteor and the town of Xeni was turned into a crater.  It stood on the tributary river leading from the eastern mountains.  There was a while when the river level went down as the crater filled up, then the water returned it was tainted with whatever the crater had in it."

"Oh," she breathes, stricken. A sudden explosion or meteor suggests most would not have escaped alive, or unharmed. 

"Were there survivors? What became of them?"

"I haven't heard anything about survivors, though if they exist they would have been taken in by towns in that country.  All we know of this far north is the water."

She shakes her head, "That is truly awful news - both the disaster and the tainted water. I will be sure to impress upon the people along the river to avoid using the water drawn from it. Thank you for explaining to me." 

She politely takes her leave of him and makes her way over to the herb garden. Humming, she begins harvesting a few key herbs she has run low on - and in one case run out of. She glances over at the foreign-robed man in the garden when she comes closer to him. 

"Hello," she says, "Are you a traveling healer as well?" She asks. 

"Of a sort.  I mostly work with developing plants and vaccines, these days."

It wasn't obvious from his kneeling posture and the distance, but as she comes closer it is clear he's well over 7 feet tall.  His features are western Setebran, and the clasp on his right shoulder where the robes are pinned have the symbol of the god of preservation.

He doesn't look exactly like the statues sometimes found in the less-religious hospitals.  Then again, Ara'Vine hasn't ever been known as someone who will sit still for sculptors.

All of these factors come together in her head to suggest- it would be somewhat oddly convenient to discover him on her way if he's decided to leave the monastery now - but then perhaps Diamondeye would have informed him of the bet as well-

"Are you... Ara'Vine?" She asks. 

"I am.  And you're the demigod I was told to find and train?"

She blinks in surprise, the nods, "I am Erin, daughter of Paean," she introduces herself, "I suppose the god of preservation must have been watching while I experimented, then.

"...Are you willing to do so?" 

She hopes he is; surely she would discover how to apply her sorcery to targets other than herself eventually, but time is measured in lives when you could use it to develop medicines and heal. 

"That is why I'm here."  And not at the south pole. 

"I would have waited at Olivine Monastery, but that place is terrible these days and there were some things to the north I wanted to get a look at."

Oh, good, he is going to teach her.

"Thank you," she says, kneeling down next to him carefully - the wings make it hard, "I... don't know how I will repay you for it, but that you are willing to teach me means a great deal to me. I'm sure I could discover this power's full use myself in time, but I do not know how long that time would be, and it burns that I could help so much if I only knew how." 

Hearing him condemn the monastery is strange. She wonders what they did to earn it, but this is more important than her curiosity at the moment. 

"Don't worry about payment.  Using the knowledge to help people will be payment enough."

"What have you figured out so far?  Do you know if your sorcery is an accurate enough copy of my mage-power to have the other things that mages have?  Like creating chargestones..."  He trails off, a bit anxious.  He doesn't much like the idea that someone would know about his Weakness.

She smiles at his first statement; he seems just as good as her favourite teachers had believed. 

As for the second, "The first thing I did to test it was heal myself, those little fixes which were immediately obvious. I have tried some minor changes and applications on myself since, simple things unlikely to go wrong, but..." she looks down, embarassed, "I haven't been able to figure out how to apply my power on anyone else." 

"As for chargestones... I'm not sure how to make them? I do know that I experience the Weakness, I discovered it the next morning. Somewhat irritating, but not something I can't live without." 

She is somewhat sorry that the exactness of her copy suggests they have the same one. His anxiousness is entirely understandable, given how easy it would be to effectively poison them. 

He supposes there's nothing to do about his Weakness being known.  He'll have to consider whether or not it would be worthwhile to start drinking caffeine regularly.  If he does, he can get back to the point where it merely lowers the effectiveness of his powers while it's in his system rather than weakening him physically.  That might be important if the information ever becomes public.  He can consider that later, however.  

"That's reasonable.  This magic was pretty clearly designed to heal and change oneself. I had my power for over a thousand years before it occurred to me to try, and longer to succeed at anything but plants and bacteria."

"Chargestones require a necromancer.  I passed a temple of Enmire in this town and they usually know where to find them.  That will be a faster way to heal others, but at the cost of not getting practice.  Having a few on hand for emergencies would still be smart."

"I suppose that makes sense, you didn't grown up hearing stories about another person with the same power," she agrees wryly. "Using it on someone else was the second thing I tried - my brother, Saman." 

"I'll be sure to carry a few chargestones once I can make them, in that case. To be honest, the first thing I want to learn is how to use it to heal others, but perhaps it would be better to start elsewhere." 

Ara'Vine considers this, looking at the rows of plants.  What would be a good order to learn things in? 

Shapeshifting takes a lot of familiarity with the sense and the body to do anything useful.  That would come eventually, but Erin didn't seem like she wanted to spend decades quietly meditating in the wilderness and not being helpful.  So, they needed something useful she could do while having the sense active.

"The trick to healing others isn't too complicated.  It just takes an unpleasant and difficult mindset to get into.  One that I'd rather not get into out here.  

"I overheard you offer your aid to the hospital.  I have some things to do here, too.  We can meet up again in a few hours."

She nods, "I did agree to help, yes." She stands, carefully, mindful of the plants around them. "Shall we meet here around the time of the evening meal? Or perhaps the town outskirts. I should eat then, and if I am doing so I might as well reassure Saman by sitting with him as I do." 

"We can meet back here, then."  

He also stands, careful to step away to avoid looming too much.

She is used to looming, being short for a human at 5'2". Still, she appreciates the space; there's quite a difference between being loomed at by someone who is an average height for a human, and someone who is over 7'. Even if he isn't doing it purposely. 

She nods, "Alright. I look forward to it." She smiles up at him, bright, and then steps away, turns, and leaves to go about her duty, stopping at the healer to offer a donation in return for the herbs. 

He goes about tasks.  Doing much of the background work while Erin speaks with the patients.  Clarifying some of the information coming down the river from Olivine Monastery.  Taking a quick trip to the temple of Enmire, which reveals they don't know of any local necromancers.  He'd rather not let anyone know about the other method, so they'll just have to try another town later.  

Ara'Vine knows he won't be able to get into the mindset to magically heal strangers in an unfamiliar town, so doesn't try.  The healers are given a few tiny chargestones, and instructions with how to make the most of them.

Erin goes about her own, helping those the local healers direct to her, and reminding those she sees that the river water is dangerous, due to the taint from the disaster at Xeni washing into it, and that they should use the wells. 

 She doesn't know how to cure the sickness that comes from the water. She hates it when that happens. Still, she can offer suggestions on how to reduce the symptoms, and supply some dried herbs that are rarer in this area. 

Around the time of the evening meal, she is waiting in the hospital's garden, curiously examining the succulents along the back wall - not touching them, however, since she isn't entirely sure what they are for. 

The trunk is like a normal cactus and about a foot tall, but the top flares out into thick leaf-like fronds that are darker green than cactus normally get.  Instead of spines, the upper half of the trunk has a ring of small fruit.  There are a few plants each of several different varieties, with different color variegation at the tips of the fronds.  Though the fruit seems to be the main thing harvested, many are missing fronds that have been taken off to produce new plants.

Ara'Vine exits the building and approaches.  "Ready to go?"

She looks up, "Yes! Though - what are these? I don't recognise them," she asks of the cactuses. 

"What I was working on before I left Olivine.  They make medically useful chemicals that we didn't have a good way of creating before.  Estrogen, testosterone, insulin, some new types of antibiotics.

"They're so different from normal plants because I was trying to fix one of the common problems with natural medicinal herbs and some of the older god-created ones - how some batches will have more or less of the effective ingredients than others.  These should be more consistent."

"Oh!" She turns back to them, leaning down to look at the fruit, "So these... amazing," she murmurs. She will be able to do things like this, someday, she realises. It's a very exciting thought. 

"Natural and god-created?" She asks once she straightens again. 

She starts slowly making her way down the path out of the hospital grounds as she speaks, looking back to make sure he's following. 

He follows, since he isn't sure which way out of town they're headed.  

"Most living things evolved naturally, including some plants with medical properties - hypericum for example.  Others were changed or created by the gods, who can do anything any magic can do including our magic.  Sometimes this happened long enough ago that they've changed the same way natural things have - I'm pretty sure sailor's whisker is one.  Others are pretty new, like duskmindh.  The differences can be Sensed if you're looking for them."

She listens carefully to this explanation, nodding when he finishes speaking, "I suppose that does explain some things," she says. There are many herbs that are too unreliable for her to bother with much of the time. If those are natural made, or old god-made herbs, and the more reliable ones are recently made specifically for those properties... yes, that makes a great deal of sense.

They're heading for the north side of the town, where it touches the river. Thinking of this brings to mind, suddenly, the issues being caused by drinking from that same river. She pauses, suddenly very concerned, "Do you know whether swimming in the river is enough to cause sickness as well," she asks. 

"Maybe, but the poison takes years of exposure.  There are still fish.  If he starts to get symptoms, you'll have plenty of time to hand him a chargestone."

She's relieved, "Oh, good. Though, handing him a chargestone might be challenging." 

Saman is perfectly visible from the edge of town. A cottage-sized orange and green turtle, with unusually shaped sockets in his shell. Only his four legs are visible at the moment, the flippers still pulled in. He looks over when they approach, giving the exceptionally tall man a wary look. 

"This is Ara'Vine, Sam," she says as they get near enough that she won't have to yell. She turns back to Ara'Vine, "This is my brother, Saman," she adds to him. 

"Hello."  

Ara'Vine is not used to people taller than himself.  He does his best to ignore his discomfort.

"I'm here to teach Erin about the mage -er sorcery."

He nods down at him ponderously, "Hello," he says, "It is good she found you. She was very sad about being unable to use it more fully." 

He looks to Erin, "You are here for dinner? Have you finished at the hospital in this village?"

She smiles up at him, "For now, at least," she agrees. She looks to Ara'Vine, "Are you hungry? We have enough to share." 

"Yes, thank you."  

If there's any cooking or preparation to do, he stands ready to help with it.

Something pretty simple, she thinks. Stew, perhaps. 

Saman has cleared the area at his right of debris, leaving room for a small camp and fire. Erin lightens herself briefly - an old gift from her father; most demigods have one to allow some amount of flight - to flutter up onto his back and retrieve her supplies, then glides back down. 

"Could you start the fire?" She asks, "I should go back into the village to fetch water. To set a good example for the villagers, if nothing else." 

"I can do that."

So water is fetched, a stew set to cooking, and she settles down, wings spread somewhat haphazardly over the ground behind her, to keep an eye on the food. 

"Have you decided what to teach me first?" She asks while they wait. 

"Sensing and healing others, starting with plants.  Most of the shapeshifting and enhancing tricks will require a long time getting used to what the Sense shows, and healing others will give you that experience while doing something helpful."  

Ara'Vine still isn't sure what the right order for the information is, but figues he should probably start with something.  He also looks for where he put his pack, and retrieves a small pot with a carefully protected seedling of duskmindh growing in it.  Rather than handing it over immediately, he stares at the plant as he talks.

"The magic is meant to heal 'you', but exactly what counts as 'you' is debatable.  It obviously means more than just whichever brain cells are thinking about it.  'You' includes your red blood cells, even though they don't have your DNA in them, and the mitochondria in your cells, even though they have their own separate DNA.  At least, you can probably Sense them - I don't know where your default ability to Sense things ends because mine changed over time.  The colony of symbiotic bacteria in your intestines is enough 'you' that it might as well be considered one of your organs.  That one took me a long time to start sensing.  I was very germophobic when I was younger." 

"By meditating on it strongly and seriously enough, the magic gets convinced and stretches to cover your target.  If you have good enough arguments for it, you can even convince it that 'you' includes other people."

"Ah," she says, "Well, that sounds... very uncomfortable." And a little horrifying.

She pauses, "Another of the first things I attempted, when sensing Saman didn't work, was sensing what counted as 'myself'. I have kept at it over the past few weeks - I can sense all three of those, but nothing past the barrier of my skin - even when strictly speaking the blood outside of my body should still be mine. I suppose I should have tried to be more stubborn." 

"Blood from cuts isn't a direction I've gotten anywhere with.  My meditation, when I focus on changing plants, is a meditation on symbiosis."

Ara'Vine checks on the stew and decides they have the time for a quick exercise. 

"This is what I let run through my head when I'm preparing to heal something other than myself," he says, shifting to a slow and steady tone of voice, no longer explaining but directing.

"First, close your eyes and think of your brain.  That is the most central thing that is definitely you.  It's the one thing that you can't change, only heal."  A good thing, considering what happened before the gods fixed that particular magical exploit.  "It can't survive on its own, outside of a skull and without a heart and lungs and digestive system to provide it with nutrients and oxygen.  Your eyes, ears, and other sensory organs provide your brain with information.  The muscles and bones let you interact with the world.  Your skull and skin protect you from danger.  All of these trillions of cells need to work together for their survival, and you are all of them.

"The mitochondria is a very old symbiote.  Some billions of years ago, two very basic lifeforms began living alongside each other, and to this day their descendants remain together, now unable to survive apart, and you are both of them.  

"The gut flora is something similar, but more recent.  They help to digest food, and in exchange your body provides them a place to live and a source of food.  People get very sick if they take too many antibiotics because the gut flora is harmed and our health depends on them.  And they are evolved to live within humans, and wouldn't thrive outside of that environment.

"Now comes the stretching point - Humans have symbiotic relationships with things outside of ourselves.  

"Take wheat, for example.  Humans plant wheat, provide it with water and fertilizer, prevent competition from invading its fields, safeguard it from disease.  In exchange, we get food and oxygen.  Humans can't survive without plants - we wouldn't be able to breathe without the oxygen they provide, and we can't get energy from the sun on our own.  

"Animals, too.  Dogs, barnwyrms, horses, pigeons, cattle, and more were all bred to work in symbiosis with us.  Dogs perform tasks and cattle turn otherwise-inedible plants into milk, and we give them protection, medicine, and shelter.

"People are the hardest, but it works the same way.  The farmer needs metal tools and medicine.  The healer needs metal tools and food.  The blacksmith needs food and medicine.  People in a city are like organs in a body, each doing a job and relying on the others."

Erin listens intently to this explanation. 

Oh, that's a little less awful than she had first assumed. The idea that she is a part of a larger organism made up of all living things, and therefore all living things are her... Yes, that makes sense. It's even true, if you look at the ecosystem as an organism. 

She hums, "So, I should first attempt this with someone or something which I can most easily convice myself is in symbiosis with me," she says. 

"Yes.  That's why I brought the plant.  Duskmindh is a good example - it only grows in human-tended fields and you're already used to its use in medicine.  Taking care of that particular plant every day and seeing personally that it gets water will only strengthen that."

She opens her eyes to look at the plant, leaning over the fire a bit to see properly. Yes, that sure is duskmindh in a little pot. They grew it at the temple in Elgea, she knows how to take care of it - though she hasn't grown her own herbs since she left. 

"How long did it take you to learn this, once you had the idea?" She asks. 

"I knew it was possible with plants a few years before 2548.  My husband at the time had been the one to figure it out, though he didn't manage to teach me while he was still alive.  After that, I hadn't been interested in learning for a long time.  I spent... uh, 2900 minus 2550... 350 or so years in the wilderness exploring, not keeping track of the calendar, shapeshifted into a dragon.  I know I caught it at some point in there.  

"I have no idea how long it should take you."

He has been alive for so long. She knew this, but somehow it is different to hear him speak about events which took place over 300 years before she was born. 

Come to think of it. 

"...Can I expect to live that long, with this power, or is it something else that gives you your lifespan?" 

"Yes, the power does de-aging.  It's one of the simpler things to pick up."

She glances over at Saman, "For others too, yes?" It stands to reason, based on what he's said, but it doesn't hurt to be sure. 

"Yes.  I forget the exact number that's theoretically maintainable if you don't do anything else, but anyone who you can heal directly or give chargestones to can be de-aged."

She smiles, "Oh, good. Turtles can live a long time, but not forever." Though it is a shame that magic is so limited that she can't simply share immortality with everyone. 

Saman is also pleased. "This is wonderful news. In the natural way of things I could expect to live at least 200 years longer than Erin. It would have been very lonely, I expect." 

He nods.

"Have you been travelling together long?"

She reaches out to set a hand on her brother's foreleg, "Since I was seventeen," she says, "Five years ago. But we also grew up together - or, I grew up with Sam. He's a few years older than I am." 

"In that case, it should be pretty easy to heal him directly, once you have plants down."

She smiles, "Oh, good." 

She looks back at the plant, "Should I try meditating on it, now? I'm sure I'm unlikely to manage it yet, but it couldn't hurt to try, while I cannot use my sorcery for anything else." 

"If your magic is full, since there's no sense letting it go to waste.  If you have less than 4 hours of charge I'd recommend meditating with your power off."

She checks; she has about five and a half hours. 

"I have enough," she says, moving around the fire to reach out for the pot. 

Then she can meditate.  "Let me know if you think of any questions.  I'll try to think of any other information that might help."

"I will," she agrees. 

And then she settles herself comfortably, plant held carefully between her hands, closes her eyes, and begins setting aside her thoughts and the distractions around her, until she is calm and focused. Then, she opens the door to her power. 

 The rush of information is still somewhat overwhelming. She becomes used to it much more quickly, however, weeks of practise having improved this, at least. She sets aside the information bit-by-bit, until she can focus on her purpose beyond it. 

 Symbiosis, he said. The brain, unable to survive without the body. Mitochondria, together with the human cell. Gut microbiota, helping digestion, protected and sustained within her. She can sense all of this - they are a part of her, the great, collective system that is herself. 

She cannot survive on her own, with only these pieces, however. She needs food, to provide her with energy, nutrients her body needs to run. Animals, for meat, and milk, and wool, to feed her body and protect her from the cold which her skin cannot defend against alone. Her brother, the ship on which she sails the world, her shelter in the storm, her companion in hardship, her haven from a lonely world

Medicines, to aid her body against sickness and failing health, and to heal, a function of her self so intrinsic she could not possibly stop. 

Medicines like those which come from the plant she holds, which she must care for as she cares for her body, in return for medicines to heal with, oxygen to breathe.

Is she this plant?  The magic isn't convinced.  Her magical sense remains fully within her own skin.

Damn. 

She persists for a few more minutes, trying a few other mental tracks, all as unsuccessful as the first. She's just not convinced enough yet. 

Sighing, she ends her use of her sorcery, opening her eyes. 

"No luck," she says. "I just... can't convince myself the plant is me." She frowns, disheartened. Then, she shakes her head, a determined look settling over her features, "I'm sure I'll get it to work. It will just take some time." 

Ara'Vine had taken out a small block of wood and begun carving it into a figurine.  His power is being saved for making chargestones.  

"It's not the sort of thing that can be picked up in an hour." 

If the gods' claim that she 'will take a century to do what he took a millenium to' is true, that might be as long as thirty years.  He doubts it'll be anywhere near that long for this particular trick, however.  Ara'Vine just doesn't have the personality for it, even discounting his tendency to get distracted and make bad use of his time.

She nods, "I would be quite arrogant to think I could learn it so quickly," she admits. 

She leans forward to check the stew, ladling out a bit to test it, carefully. 

"I think this is ready," she tells him, turning to pull a pair of bowls from her packs. She ladles some stew into one and offers it to him. 

He accepts the bowl with another thanks.  

It's been a while since he's been expected to make conversation over meals.  At the monastery he would listen to the monks talk amongst themselves and only speak up if asked a direct question.

She doesn't expect him to talk, if he doesn't want to. Though, she was wondering, earlier - 

"What did the monks do, to make you leave Olivine?" 

"They started forgetting their purpose.

"Enmire's usual way of doing things is to have his monasteries generate a large amount of money, then funnel that money into the most effective charities and resources for his medical researchers.

"He was closely focused on Olivine for a while, because there was a chance of a war nearby.  When that blew over, he started focusing on other monasteries elsewhere, and that let some of the monks there get corrupt.  Keeping money for themselves, squabbling over trade deals, throwing lavish parties... the sorts of things that rich people do.  It eventually got to the point that I felt like my powers were being used to make people rich more than save lives, so I left."

She makes a face, remembering her own experieces with rich, self-important people. As well, her long-standing annoyance with the inefficiency of Paean's priesthood. She hated the way she felt more like a show-piece, in Elgea, than a healer. 'Look at us, with our god's child learning in our temple! Surely we are favoured, and you should visit us, and donate to our coffers!' Paean's temples are better than many, but they are not immune to corruption. 

"It's a shame, that even such a good thing could be corrupted like that," she says. 

"The story brings to mind the reasons I left Elgea - though I had always intended to go eventually, I had not intended to do so as early as I did." 

"Something happened that made you leave in a hurry?"

"There was a lot of pressure on me to marry one of the more powerful nobles in Elgea. My mother is high in the temple hierarchy, and she had led him to expect things." She shrugs, "I could have refused, and stayed, but the pressure and... surprise meetings in unexpected places, would have only increased, I'm sure. Since I meant to leave anyway, I just moved up my plans." 

"Sounds like a good reason to leave, yeah."

He's had to deal with a number of nobles trying to seduce him over the centuries, but never a parent pushing him into it.

She nods. 

"It wasn't even that I couldn't have ignored the expectations. I could have. There wasn't anything they could have done to force me. But living with that expectation over my head at all times..." 

She shakes her head, and focuses on her meal. 

He's content to eat in silence.  Though, he's somewhat curious, "What was Elgea like for you, Saman?"

"Very busy," Sam says after a moment, turning his head to look at Ara'Vine in some surprise, "Humans are in such a hurry, always, it seems, particularly in cities. And many have such strange priorities..." He hums, the sound deep and vibrating, "I much prefer traveling." 

"Yes, one of many reasons I stick to smaller towns.  It's easier to keep up with everything when there's only a few hundred people to deal with.

"Have you met any merfolk?"

"A few," he says, "Before Father sent me to Elgea, and after, while we have been traveling. I swim most everywhere, with Erin on my back." 

(Erin pats him.) 

"I like them better, but that may simply be because I have only met them one at a time, or in small groups." 

"The best way to deal with people."  

Probably merfolk hunters or scouts, then.  Only the Lisship Ocean merfolk go out of their way to sink ships that pass overhead, though the other ones will cut up nets if the humans overfish an area.  Otherwise, the merfolk of the shallow oceans avoid humans on order of their gods.  None would avoid a sea-creature monster for that reason, however, demigod on their back or no.

"I'd wondered if you were ever sent down to provide religious instruction to them.  Though, I don't know if Paean is one of the gods with followers of both species."

He lowers his head in an imitation of a shrug, "Father did not ask me to do so," he says, "I was still quite young, when he sent me to Erin," he adds, "Though I do not know that this would have affected any decisions he might have made. Perhaps he simply had no need to instruct them." 

Ara'Vine nods.  He can't think of any more questions for either of them.

She smiles down into her meal while they talk - people don't usually pay much attention to Saman, once they stop watching him warily - at least in Garnethold, where they grew up. The merfolk did, but they don't see them very often. It's nice to meet someone who treats him like a person. 

"Do you have a place to stay tonight?" She asks, as she sets her empty bowl down, "I usually set up my tent next to Sam and sleep outside town, and you'd be welcome to stay." 

"I normally stay outside of towns too.  I can set up nearby."

She nods, and makes to stand, bowl in hand to go wash it in the river, and then pauses, remembering the danger of it. 

"...Is there anything we can do, about the sickness the river is causing? Do you know what's causing it?" 

"It's some kind of inorganic material which breaks down in an odd way.  I can sense it when I drink river water, and use the power to flush it out.  I've seen traces of stuff like it before, it's just present in larger amounts than normal.  

"I don't know if we can do anything wide-scale yet.  It isn't the sort of thing that vaccines will help with.  Finding some way to improve the irrigation filters might be the best thing we can do.  Maybe create an algae that filters it out and can form it into pellets that can be collected and sealed away?"

Focusing a little on the present, he adds, "Uh, but washing the bowls in river water will be fine for us."

"That's good," she acknowledges the last statement, "What about going to the source, the former site of Xeni? It would be good to set up something to filter it out in the meantime, but wouldn't it be worth it to see if it can be stopped from entering the river at all?" 

"Oh, that's a good idea.  A single large filter will be better than a hundred smaller ones, and help with the wildlife too."

"It shouldn't take too long to get there," she muses, thinking back on what she knows of Soth's geography. "Did you want to set up some better filters in the meantime, or would it be better to get to the source sooner, is the question." 

"It'll take a while to develop something usable.  Months, at least.  We'll get there before we have a testable prototype."

"I suppose there's no reason to make our way there immediately, in that case. If you wouldn't mind it, we could simply keep on as Sam and I have been - going village to village, offering mundane healing - while you work on the filter, and I work on using my sorcery on targets other than myself." 

He considers that.  

"I'll need to be close to the river to create the algae.  Though, the big limit on developing things is magical charge.  We can travel for a while, visiting necromancers once a week, and I can buy a tank and start altering the algae once we're heading up the river.  If I already have the charge I need, I can make a prototype on the trip to Xeni and only have to spend as long there as it takes to set it up and make sure it's working.

It would be more convenient to use his orich-copper charger, but there wouldn't be a way to disguise the lack of trips to a necromancer to someone with his same power.  Erin does seem nice, but that's a secret for a very big reason and he's not about to share it with someone he's known for a day.

She nods, "Yes, that seems like a good plan." She glances up at Saman, a regretful cast to her features, "We usually don't travel far from the water, anyways," she adds, "Sam doesn't travel very quickly on land, even if he does have legs. Sometimes I'll go inland for a few days on my own, but..." she doesn't like doing it. She hates leaving landbound villages out of her route, but it's just not efficient. There are other traveling healers.

The plan made, he should probably get his tent set up.  There are some decent areas, and he takes the second-best one.

She appreciates that. She sets up her tent in the best spot, flap facing her brother and the fire. She unrolls her bedroll and settles her blanket at the bottom of it, for later. Then she climbs back out and settles back down at the fire, pulling out some supplies to store, prepare, or mix some of the herbs she'd taken from the hospital earlier.

He is centuries out of practice at doing normal herb preparations, so watches.  The block of wood and whittling knife come back out, and occasionally a bit of wood is cut loose.  It's slowly taking shape, becoming the six-legged figure of a barnwyrm.  

She glances up at one point, smiling when she sees the shape coming together. 

"I've always wanted a barnwyrm," she muses, "Or a dragonette." She pauses, "Both, really," she admits, ruefully, "And many of them." 

"I've had barnwyrms before.  Elias - my most recent husband - was constantly bringing back strays."  Barnwyrms were one of the more normal things he'd bring back. 

"I learned to carve them from one of the priests of Diamondeye I met - barnwyrms being associated with her in some parts of the world, for being dragonlike and preserving the harvest from mice."

Most recent. That... makes sense, given. Though, it's also sad, and makes her think about her own future, briefly. She's an immortal demigod with a very powerful sorcery, now. It's highly likely that she will face a lot of very dangerous challenges, and lose people to them. 

She shakes these worrisome thoughts off, for now. 

"My mother wouldn't let me have one," she says, "Partly for that reason, I believe - the association with Diamondeye." She glances back at Saman, "And my lifestyle isn't suited to pets, now," she adds. 

"Huh.  I wouldn't have expected Paean and Diamondeye to be quite so at odds.  Though, I suppose Diamondeye is the reason I made my way to Olivine instead of remaining a not-very-useful dragon for another century.  And the gods do seem to take any opportunity they can to start grudges. 

"Did you ever have dogs?"  Those being associated with Silva, a perennial favorite of the wealthy, if not especially friendly with Paean.  "Or... I'm not sure if Paean has a common pet.  I suppose herons aren't very pet-like.  Snakes?"

She smiles, "I had a snake, yes," she agrees. "A gift from one of my favourite teachers, when I was small." She looks down, wistful, "He died when I was fifteen, but he was a good companion." 

As to the other comment, "It wasn't so much that my Father and Diamondeye were at odds - though I understand there's some dislike there, for the reason you stated. My mother simply made every effot to take his grudges and dislikes to extremes, in the attempt to gain his favour." 

She shrugs, "I suppose I can't say her methods didn't work," she admits, gesturing to herself. 

"Paean does seem to go for that," he agrees.  

"I'm happy being Diamondeye's Champion.  She's more... apathetic about things, than any other god.  I've never seen her start a fight.  The few countries where the local religion has decided to villainize her, she just warns me to avoid.  That's northern Kor, these days.  From what I hear, they're all about progress, and use preservation as its opposite.

"As far as I know, she's never had demigod or monster children.  Dragon monsters are one of the most common, but always some other god, playing into their association with fire, or scouting, or sunlight..."

Erin isn't sure how to reply - she agrees that Diamondeye seems preferable in many ways, but she generally doesn't speak aloud her thoughts on Paean. And this seems like a particularly poor time for it, given. She is unsure how badly he might take her going to Ara'Vine for help, and does not want to make it worse in the case that he is paying attention. 

So she just nods, "I'm glad for Saman, and for my own life, but many of the stories about my kind and his are sad ones." 

Ara'Vine notices her hesitation but isn't entirely sure what caused it.  Did he say something offensive?  Worried that he's trying to spread Diamondeye's religion?  That one would be a reasonable thing to think he's doing, considering that it's technically part of his job description as a Champion.  

"'Epic adventures' don't sound like very much fun to have," he agrees.  Demigods to play the role of chosen hero.  Monsters to play the role of mount if they're lucky.  If not, the monsters are raised in the wilderness and set up to attack towns, or given artifacts to hold so that 'heroes' can come in and kill them to take it.  Most religions place cosmic importance on what the gods send people off to do.  It's the cycle of the universe, and if heroes and villains do not complete their quests, then the seasons will stop cycling.  A few have instead theorized that gods must need worshippers for some reason.  Ara'Vine is mostly convinced that it's for the god's entertainment.  

Perhaps a topic change is in order, hoping for something a bit less morbid.  "Have you seen any of the machines coming out of Kor recently?  I've been hearing stories, but most of them take infrastructure that hasn't been built in Mesasoth yet.  I'm particularly interested in the machines that can make things colder."

Relieved by the change of topic, she answers, "Not recently - a few novelties, in Elgea, but I've been in the remote parts of Garnethold for the past few years." 

A machine that could make things colder? "That would be very useful for medicine storage - and food storage, as well," she muses. 

"It would.

"Something that makes things colder than the surrounding air isn't something I've ever seen in nature.  I'm hoping that if I see how the machines work, I can replicate it."

"To - make something living which cools its environment? To make use of the idea without the necessary infrastructure?"

It would be much simpler - and besides that, people trust Ara'Vine's creations where they don't necessarily trust those machines. A few decades of medical improvements will do that to a person's reputation. 

"I mostly just like finding out how to do new things, so I can have them if a use comes up.  Something that can keep food and vaccines cold but doesn't take infrastructure and so much metal does sound useful, though."

She nods - it does seem like useful knowledge, aside from the obvious practical applications. 

Not sure what else to say, she goes back to her herbs. 

Ara'Vine keeps carving his barnwyrm figurine for a little while, then eventually heads to his tent to sleep.  

He considers his current job.  He's not very good at being on-task, instead wandering wherever his attention and curiosity takes him.  That is probably going to mesh badly with whatever image of him has come out of Olivine, where the monks had been keeping him focused pretty thoroughly for the last 50 years.  There's no way he's going to keep this up for a century.

In the morning he leaves his tent.  Do either Erin or Saman look awake yet?

Saman is awake - he's just climbing out of the river as Ara'Vine exits his tent. 

"Good morning," he greets as quietly as a giant turtle monster can, mindful of Erin, who is still asleep. 

"Good morning," he repeats back. 

"Do you normally spend a few days per town, or will Erin want to move on right away?"

"It depends on how many people need help in the village we are visiting," he says. "I don't know if she'll need to stay longer here." 

"Hmm.  This town does have a pretty big hospital, and a lot of problems."  

He wanders off to go about the quieter of morning tasks.

Eventually, Erin wakes. She climbs out of her tent, rubbing at her eyes groggily. She wanders over to Sam to give him a hug, and then turns to take in their camp, slowly putting together a mental list of things to do this morning. 

Belatedly, she notices Ara'Vine, blinking at him in surprise for a moment before her mind wakes up enough for her to recall meeting him the previous day. 

"Oh," she says, "Good morning." 

"Good morning!"  He is much more of a morning person, and has had plenty of time to wake up and consider their options.  

"Do you think we should stay in Silcardine another day?  If not, I can pack up the tents while you get ready, but if we're staying I'll go gather more firewood."

She considers, "They don't need me here, really," she decides at length. "The hospital is well supplied, and the healers know their work. I think I would rather move on." 

"Thank you," she adds, motioning to her tent, "I should still visit the hospital before we leave, to let them know," she says. 

"Okay."

He starts with his own tent, quickly dismantling it.  He's a bit slower with hers, being an unfamiliar design, but gets it back into a wrapped bundle easily enough.  

When he's done with it, Sam speaks up, "Her things go in the packs on my shell." He turns a bit to show off the water resistant packs. "I can carry your things as well, of course," he adds. 

"Thank you."  His tent and spare outfit can go in the pack.  Ara'Vine's orichalcum items, other valuables, canteen, and knife will stay on his own person.  

As he packs up the tents, she makes her way back into Silcardine. She lets the priest she had met the day before know that she is leaving, and once they say their goodbyes she exits the building.

She pauses, though, as she passes the statue of Paean. She turns to look up at his face for a moment, a conflicted look crossing her own, and then bows, and turns to return to their camp. 

When she gets back, she notes the tents have been taken down, and placed up in Saman's packs. She smiles up (way up) at Ara'Vine, appreciative, and then sets to packing up the few items she'd left out around the camp. 

"Will you travel on Sam's back?" She asks once she has them all gathered up. "I would't expect you to be too heavy for him," she adds, or at least she hopes not. She doesn't really know what sort of changes he's made, and whether they might affect how much he weighs. 

He's about as heavy as he looks, which is quite heavy but is well within Saman's power to carry.  "I will if we're travelling in the water.  The road's been mostly following the river, but it's not always visible and I'd rather not wind up separated."

"We prefer to travel by water," she says, patting one of Sam's legs. 

She lightens herself, and flutters up onto his back, settling her things into the packs. She glides back down again as Saman gets up, ready to begin the slow plod back to the river. 

"Ready to go?" She asks Ara'Vine, stepping back to follow after her brother. 

"Sure."

So they can follow Sam down to the river's edge, and then after he's swapped legs for flippers they can climb on board. 

And then they're off to the next village. 

This close to the mouth of the river is pretty densely inhabited, being the point where the Therma'Ro ocean trade routes meet with the start of the great Soth River coming north from the desert.  It isn't long at all before they spot another village.

"We didn't spend much time here, the last time we came through," she explains as Sam makes for the shore. "They didn't have any urgent cases, and we were trying to reach Olivine sooner, rather than later." 

"Makes sense."

He patiently waits until they're at the shore, then disembarks.  Ara'Vine kind of wishes he had wings, too, but even with weight-wire there would be too many things he'd have to change.  Especially now that he's trying very hard not to use his power frivolously.  Speaking of which, he should probably get the wire traded in for something useful...

Ara'Vine is quiet and somewhat lost in thought.  

She glides down as well, pausing beside him. 

"...Should I come find you for the midday meal?" She asks, uncertain.

Getting used to a new traveling companion is going to be a bit awkward, she realises suddenly, given that she's spent a significant portion of her life with just Sam. 

"No.  We can meet back here for evening meal.  I can bring the food supplies this time."  He considers for a moment, then adds, "Do you normally buy food for Saman?"  He's not entirely sure what turtles eat.

She shakes her head, "He usually hunts for food himself," she glances back at him, "Though sometimes I'll share a bit of my food with him," she admits. Trying to keep him fed by herself would be... Challenging.

Well, if Saman wants him to pick up something, he can ask.  

Ara'Vine nods, feeling somewhat awkward himself.  To avoid that, he waves to them and heads down the road into town on his long legs, deciding to check for any temples to Diamondeye or Enmire first.  

She waves, hugs Sam goodbye, and heads down another road, towards the town's center, in hopes of asking directions to any healer they might have, or failing that to the local leader. 

She is directed to the shop that sells paper, pens, and ink.  The village is too small to support a full-time healer, but he trained for a few years at the hospital and takes anything too small or too urgent to send the few hours to Silcardine.  The rooftop garden of the shop has both healing herbs and plants for dyes.  

What an interesting combination of work! She can see how it would work well! 

She wanders in, pausing to take a look at his wares before she speaks with him. She doesn't think she needs anything in the genre of ink and paper, but maybe something will catch her eye. 

The front room is stocked with shelves.  Most are stationary supplies of various types.  Many kinds of pen, from quills and dip pens to modern pens out of Kor with their ink supplied from within.  Empty journals, scrolls, and stationary pads, as well as stacks of plain paper and rolls of canvas.  Inks, paper-wrapped charcoal sticks, and even a few proper paints.  There are also a handful of other odds and ends in smaller displays:  Dried pressed flowers, boxes of teas and dried herbal mixes, soaps, honey, and candles.

Not far from the entrance is another door, the building divided in half.  The door is shut, but has the unmistakable symbol of medicine painted onto it.  

The man behind the counter is middle aged, wearing a patterned wrap in white and gray.  "Welcome to my shop, miss," he says, then bows as he notices the wings.  

She smiles at him, "Good day," she greets, "I am Erin, daughter of Paean - a traveling healer. A woman in the square told me you are the one they go to for healing in this village?" 

She has her token - a pendant bearing the symbol of Paean's temple - out again, to prove her claim. 

After determining that there's not an emergency to respond to, he begins speaking of the town's health.  Mostly fine, other than the river.  These villagers at least seem to be listening to the advice to use the wells.  There are a few special cases he'd appreciate her looking at or offering reassurance to, and he sends her off with directions to where they'd be this time to day.  

She's happy to do so!

At the end of the day, she returns to the outskirts of the village, settling by Sam to tell him of her day, and ask after his. 

Ara'Vine gets back just a bit later, carrying ingredients.

"Hello Erin, Saman."

"Good evening," Saman greets him. He peers with interest at the things the things the man is carrying.

"Good evening!" She greets in unison with her brother, "Oh, are those for dinner?" 

"They are, and some for breakfast."  He divides a portion from the rest to be stored.

All of the ingredients are familiar, but they're being put together in an unfamiliar way.  The result seems to be aiming for some kind of savory, meat-and-vegetable-filled oatmeal.  Presumably this is a common dish in Mesasoth.

"Did anything interesting happen today?"

The meal is interesting! She's eaten mostly Garnethold cuisine, throughout her lifetime, even after leaving Elgea. She watches as he works, trying to learn the recipe. 

"Nothing unusually so," she says. "The healer in this village is also the stationer, which is a combination I had not thought of, but which makes sense, now that I've seen it."  

"It does.  Around Soth they seem to like to combine healers with people who make dyes or ink more often than not.  The last time I was in Veth they were usually the tailors.  It's interesting how different cultures link things."

"It is! It's barbers, in Garnethold," she adds. "Is it the same in Mesasoth?" She asks, "Stationers and dye makers?" 

"Pretty much.  Mesasoth isn't too different from northern Soth countries in that."

She nods.

Then, after a moment, a little uncertain, but wishing to keep the conversation going, she asks, "What was Veth like, last time you were there?"

"A lot of wild, empty forest," is the first thing he remembers.  "Not many people lived there, and those that did were often hunters and trappers living off of the land.  Most of the buildings were log cabins, or ancient ruins.  The Cataclysm of Veth was only a century beforehand, and people were moving back now that the deathspores were gone.

"The place I stayed in was being colonized by a highly-religious subculture worshipping Blue Mist.  They had a strange thing about gender, the way that merfolk do, but not quite the same exact things.  Women were expected to do certain tasks and men were supposed to do other ones, though they both lived in the same towns together for their entire lives.  I don't remember the full list, and they were split bizarrely - I remember that diagrams and scientific drawings like anatomy and botany were masculine, and decorative drawing and painting were feminine - unless they were painting walls of a building, which was masculine again?  It was almost like a caste system, which makes sense considering they were originally from eastern South Cardinal...

"In particular, they didn't like men marrying men, or women marrying women there.  Or polyamory, though that one didn't affect me personally.  The villagers didn't much like me being married to Elias.  I would have left, but he wanted to stay and be an example to the colonists and try to influence their culture into flexibility.  We couldn't be pushed around as easily as others."

She leans forward, arms curled around her knees, listening raptly to his descriptions. 

"Strange," she murmurs, of the gender divisions, and, "That sounds very uncomfortable," of both them and the marriage restrictions, "What did they do about demigods? It sounds as though my path would have been forbidden me, had I been born there, despite the fact that I am daughter to the god of healing." 

"I'm not sure.  Maybe the gods only sired demigods of a single gender?  Or maybe they were divided in some arcane way that never came up around me - male demigods to become wandering healers, female ones to go on Quests to discover hidden artifacts?  Unless those artifacts were specifically orich-brass harps, which is obviously male to find."

She snorts a laugh, hiding a smile behind her hand. 

"If artistic drawings were feminine, were the other arts as well? No one could ever play it!" 

"Men could make three-dimensional art like statues and vases, while women made flat art.  Mostly.  Everything had exceptions, which was why it is so hard to remember.  Instruments were split too, but I don't remember who got harp."

"That's bizzarre!" She laughs. 

She asks about other places he's been, while they wait for dinner to finish cooking and then while they eat. His stories stir up the wanderlust in her - she had many reasons for choosing her path, and the desire to see far off places was one of them. 

He hasn't been everywhere but he's explored much of North and South Cardinal at some point or another.  Much of his memories are about the land itself, rather than the people:  Shattered badlands with their canyons and rock pillars.   Wide, flat plains going on like an ocean of grass.  Complex palaces of coral, cultivated over generations by the merfolk living there.  

The people are less interesting to him, though he has a few anecdotes on the cultures he's seen.  Elias was with him for over 700 years of Ara'Vine's 1766-year life, and plays a role in many of these - setting up in a single town for several decades to adopt a dozen children and two dozen barnwyrms.  Picking up art forms and joining in with local sports.  Running afoul of some local superstition.  

She is just as interested in his description of the land as of the people (and Saman tunes in to listen with great interest when he begins describing the coral palaces). 

Elias sounds like he was amazing. She wishes she could have met him. She's not sure about a dozen children, but if she ever settles down for a while she'll definitely be following his example on the matter of barnwyrms. 

"What kind of superstition?" She asks as she reaches the end of her meal. 

"He was a necromancer, and some cultures read into that.  In particular, with the relationship between undead and necromancers.  Some places assumed he was controlling me, or that one of us effectively owned the other.  Setebre in particular had strong beliefs about it, that having been one of the defining things about the old Setebre Empire before it, uh, became the Diamond Scar.

"Which reminds me - keep an eye out for anyone who seems more charismatic than they should," he adds, now that the thought's been brought to his attention.  "People who are more attractive than their features should be, shopkeepers who you really want to buy things you don't want from, and so on.  It's hard to pick out without practice.  Not all necromancers know they're necromancers, since many people are never tested and undead are fairly rare."

She makes a face at the mention of Setebre's beliefs. 

At the second part she has to pause, suddenly realising that, yes, that is likely to be a problem. 

"Oh. Oh, of course, an exact copy - and the Weakness - of course I will have the attraction to necromancers as well. It hadn't occurred to me." 

She does not really like this idea. 

That was a kind of strong reaction.  "Is Elgea one of the places where necromancers are considered wily and manipulative, then?  They aren't that bad.  No more than a very attractive person in a revealing dress.  They aren't liches."

She shakes her head, "I just... Don't like the idea of being attracted to someone for reasons besides my own?" She tries to explain. Her heart is hers. She doesn't much like orich-artifacts which affect charisma or attraction, either. 

He's not sure what the difference is between someone who happened to be born with necromancy and someone who happened to be born with the genes for large breasts or perfect teeth or whatever.  People don't normally get to control what they find attractive, or who has those traits.

"Well, I'll be sure to point any I see out, so you can be on your guard."

She's not surprised he doesn't get it - it's possible she'll get used to it eventually, too, though part of her hopes not. 

"Thank you," she says anyway, "And thank you for pointing it out," she adds.

They've been sitting and talking for a while, so he stretches his legs by going to clean the now-empty bowls.

He considers his life before he became a mage.  Specifically, how little he remembers it.  There are the biographical notes as if read from a book on someone else, but he doesn't remember any of it.  If he ever considered the difference between suddenly finding necromancers attractive, and suddenly finding people in general attractive, he's long forgotten it.  Maybe they didn't even happen separately - he was only fifteen at the time of his undeath, after all.

As he leaves to wash up, she brings out her little pot of duskmindh to tend to it. Once this is done, she settles down to meditate with it. 

She tries reinforcing the thoughts she'd had the night before with the knowledge that she's caring for it, pushing the last part of her conclusions harder than she had before. 

Still nothing yet, not even a flicker of change.

Ara'Vine continues carving.  

She meditates for the rest of the hour, continuing to try, to no avail. Then she checks over her herb supplies, and eventually sets up her tent to get some sleep. 

Night, then morning.  They travel a bit further down the river.  

They reach Myrthish, one of the larger trading ports at the wide mouth of the Soth River.  The city has spread out to both sides of the water, with a high bridge of metal and thick cables crossing the water.  Docks bristle from the banks, small oar-powered river boats closest to them, larger vessels on the other side of the bridge.

"This place is bound to have a professional necromancer, and I need to make some chargestones before my power starts going to waste," Ara'Vine says.  "You should come and see how it works, even if you won't be making them often."

She gazes out over the city with interest. They hadn't stopped here very long the last time, either - as large as it is, it surely has plenty of healers. 

"Good idea," she agrees. 

Saman pulls up at outside the city again, dropping them off, before he swims back out to hunt for something to eat. 

"Lead on?" 

He's never seen this city, but the gates aren't hard to find.  Ara'Vine asks after necromancers, and they're given directions to the inn where travelling mages stay.

Most mages are old money or outright nobility, their magehearts passed down through family lines.  As such, the inn is the finest in the city, with murals on the walls and a mechanical fountain in the courtyard.  Inside, the lobby is ostentatious, full of carved wood, velvet-upholstered benches, and rows of lamps with matching stained glass lampshades.  Wood floors and walls wouldn't be strange for Garnethold, where trees are plentiful, but stands out in Soth. 

"We're mages, here to visit your necromancer."  He isn't sure how to explain Erin's sorcery, and so doesn't.

The innkeeper looks them over, eyes lingering on Erin's wings.  He quotes a price in gold, fairly exorbitant.  

"This will more than cover it, for both of us."  Ara'Vine pulls out a diamond-embedded coin and hands it over.  

Even without activating a chargestone, it's possible to sense the power stored within.  The innkeeper's eyebrows rise.  Ten minutes of Ara'Vine's power is more than enough to pay for it.  He hesitates, wondering if it would be worthwhile to haggle further, but instead calls down a servant to lead them on.

Erin has known many mage nobles - the man her mother had wanted her to marry was one. She had visited the homes of nobles and rich merchants fairly often as a child, but the sheer extravagance of wealthy persons' homes - and other places they frequent - has always made her uncomfortable. It did as a girl living in Elgea, and it does moreso now, after spending years on her own traveling through small rural villages. She does her best to ignore this. 

She stays quiet throughout the coversation Ara'Vine has with the innkeeper, and then follows the servant further inside. 

Ara'Vine's not happy with this place, either.  "Making chargestones takes as long as using the power, so I'll be stuck here for 6 hours.  You can leave after an hour if you'd like.  I mostly wanted to bring you so you could see an example of a necromancer, see how chargestones are made, and double-check if the mage-mimicking sorcery counts enough to make them."

They reach the room, a parlor full of knick knacks and embroidery samples, and a plush rug.  There's a set of fine chairs around a low table with a few plates already laid out on it. 

The woman inside immediately draws the eye away from the room's finery.  She's in her sixties, with a mature beauty that she pulls off well.  She's wearing a fine gown in what would locally be recognized as an older style, though the lace is new and the dark green fabric is unfaded.  Her gray hair is woven into matronly braids.  Every facet of her image is carefully set out to resemble the kindest of grandmothers.

She smiles, lighting up the room.  "It's lovely to see you, dears.  Please, come in and have something to eat."  This seems like a very good idea.  

Ara'Vine glances at Erin, curious.

She nods at his explanation. Perhaps she should make some number of them as well, if she can? She's only using about an hour every day, during meditation. If she leaves two hours, then she should have enough to meditate as well as heal herself, should some unexpected emergency arise. They reach the room before she can ask his opinion on the matter, however. 

At first she doesn't even notice anything odd about the attraction - the woman is lovely, if older than she usually prefers. Even her smile could be natural - some people just have smiles like that. 

It's the way her words immediately sound so correct, without even processing them, which clues her in. She's been under an effect like that before. 

She doesn't make any kind of face, but she's definitely not happy about this. 

She does accept the offer, however, "Of course," she agrees. She bows lightly, introducing herself with her name and her Father's, as usual. 

Erin's attraction to her is not the woman's fault - it's more Erin's than it hers, being as she was born a necromancer, and Erin chose to accept her mage-sorcery of her own free will. 

He sits down.  They're on opposite sides of the central chair, where the kindly necromancer sits.  The dishes have bite-sized pieces of pastry and fruit arranged on them, and Ara'Vine grabs one mostly to indicate that it is the right thing to do.

"I'm a mage.  She has a sorcery which perfectly copies my mage-power," Ara'Vine explains, remembering to stick to the level of detail he intended to say.  "It's exact enough that I think she should be able to make chargestones, though we haven't checked yet."  He takes out a bag of thin copper coins with tiny beads of diamond imbedded in the center, visible from both sides.  Six of them get counted out and handed over.  "These are what Erin should turn into chargestones."  For himself, he takes out a larger single diamond, one capable of holding hundreds of hours of charge.  

"Oh, how exciting!"  The old woman exclaims.  "Of course I will help you check.  To charge a diamond into a chargestone, both of us need to be touching a diamond at once.  Then, you push the magic into the diamond."

She sits in the open chair, and takes a bit of fruit. 

"Thank you," she says in response to the woman's words. "That is very straightforward," she says of the explanation. "Shall we attempt it now?" She asks, leaning over the table a bit and offering her hand.

The woman places a coin down on her hand, keeping her hand pressed over it.  She moves her foot towards a pedal connected to a small hourglass built into the table.  Chargestone charge can be guessed at by someone with experience, but it's better to measure how long they took to make.  There is a strange sensation where the diamond touches her skin, like static electricity.  

Her other hand is placed on Ara'Vine's arm, over where he placed the diamond.  He focuses on charging it, and tries to ignore everything else, staring on the looping pattern of the wallpaper.  

Her attention is caught by the woman's closeness for a long moment, before she forces herself to push it away, averting her eyes.

She activates her sorcery, directing the charge into the diamond. Does it work? 

It does!  Rather than getting the usual dizzying flood of information, the magic instead coils into the diamond. 

"How wonderful," the woman exclaims.  "And such a useful power, too.  I suppose that the God of Healing was the one who imparted the sorcery?  That sounds like quite the tale."

She opens her mouth to reply, and then pauses, considering whether she actually wants to. 

"He was," she agrees after a moment, "Though it is not so terribly interesting as all that - he simply came to me and offered it. There was mention of a bet." 

She glances at Ara'Vine - the story is his, as well, to some extent. 

They're going to be here for a while, particularly Ara'Vine.  They might as well kill time by explaining it.

"What the God of Preservation told me," he begins, "was that the God of Healing was upset at me for upstaging them.  The two of them made a bet that if they gave an exact copy of my power to someone else, that person would be able to do everything I've done in under a century."

The necromancer puts the information together.  "Ara'Vine?"

"...Yes."  Did he forget to introduce himself again?  He avoids cringing as the necromancer goes over the usual response to that information.  Her enthusiasm is infectious, but not quite enough to get over his dislike of the situation.  One of these days he's going to just change his name, no matter how much that feels like lying.  

"Uh, anyway.  The God of Preservation also told me that Erin was coming down the river to ask for advice on how to use the power because the more complex things that the power can do are non-intuitive.  I was about to leave Olivine Monastery anyway, so I listened and came up north to meet her instead of a different direction."  Most of the rest of the story is Erin's, really.  He looks over at Erin, tall enough to look right over the necromancer's head even while they're all sitting.  "Perhaps you should be the one to tell your part of this?"

She nods. If he's willing to have the story told in full, she does not mind either.

"My Father came to offer me the ability, stating that they had made a bet with the God of Preservation that a person with a 'true gift for healing' could learn in a century what took Ara'Vine a millenium," those were the words they had said, almost verbatim. 

"I accepted. I have always wished for a sorcery which would allow me to heal more directly than with herbal remedies and medicines. However, I quickly discovered some applications were more difficult than I had expected. My brother suggested I find Ara'Vine to ask for help." 

She smiles at Ara'Vine, then back to the necromancer, "We made for Olivine, but encountered him on the way there. He agreed to help, and so now we are traveling together." 

The necromancer is delighted.  "You really must write this tale down as you go, and pass it on.  It has the makings of a proper tale."

It turns out that she's something of a collector of the epic stories of the past, which chronicle heroes on their adventures.  Deciding that her day's audience would not be interested in more combat-oriented stories, she instead begins reciting the ones about clever heroes who succeeded at impossible-sounding tasks by taking out-of-the-box solutions.

The chargestone coin on Erin's arm gets filled and replaced, the hourglass flipping over.  

"Perhaps we will," she agrees. Though she's not much of a journal-keeper. 

She's happy to listen to the necromancer's stories - she would be even without the effect the woman has on her. She's an engaging storyteller. 

When the coin is replaced, she looks to Ara'Vine, "How much time should I be transferring?" She asks him, "I thought I might keep an hour for meditation, and some time in case of emergencies."

"I handed her 6," he says.  "An hour will be fine for now."

If it was him, he'd drain his magic completely then take the next two days off from meditating.  Then again, he's used his shapeshifting to create a kangaroo-like pouch on his side where he can store chargestones safe of normal theft and right up against his skin for instant use, which makes them more useful for him.

"Alright," she agrees. She'll fill the other five coins then. 

The hour goes by quickly. 

Soth has a slightly different folklore tradition than Garnethold.  Even the major stories that are shared between regions have changed details, as different information is considered relevant or things have been lost in translation.  In particular, a rainforest-covered archipelago and a desert have different symbolism around rain, which wholly changes the takeaway of certain stories. 

Eventually the hourglass empties for the sixth time, and Erin is presented with a filled stack of chargestones.  "Is that all you're interested in transferring today?" the necromancer asks.  "You can of course stay if you'd like to keep listening.  We have plenty of fruit here, and you won't have to be separated from your companion."

Ara'Vine is tempted to ask Erin to stay, but acknowledges that would be a waste of her time.  It's not like he hasn't had to sit in one of these rooms several thousand times before.  He puts on an indifferent expression and looks over for her answer.  

She hadn't thought of how different peoples' assumptions and surroundings might change stories before, but the changes aren't surprising, now that she's heard them.

Once the hour is up, she considers the offer. She should visit the markets, and perhaps she could be of some use to the healers in this town? But strictly speaking there's no urgent reason to leave now.

"Would you be willing to let me make more chargestones out of your coins?" She asks Ara'Vine. "Perhaps a few hours more? I should visit the market at some point, and perhaps the hospital in this town - though of course we could just do that after you're finished here," she offers. 

"You can have the bag, since I have this larger stone to charge."  Inside of the bag is around 40 more coins, able to store just over what he generates in a week.  Also a few small loose diamonds in the bottom.

The woman says, "We also supply blank chargestone coins for free, as part of what we do here.  You can replace the ones you fill here with empty ones."

"What is it that you do here, exactly?" She asks, taking the bag with a smile for Ara'Vine. "Aside from helping mages make chargestones, clearly." 

"Necromancers in general empower undead that we touch.  Undead being mages, vampires, liches, and ghosts, at least as far as I've heard.  While we're in contact with them, mages can create chargestones, vampires can read minds, liches can raise fresh corpses into zombies, and ghosts can be implanted into golem bodies.  Here at the inn, nearly all of my clientele are mages, along with occasional trips to renew the local golems.  There are no liches here, of course.  And vampires - well, supposedly there are some parts of the world that use boosted vampires as judges, but we have no such setup in Soth - if there are any vampires here they're living among the criminals where I will take no part in.  Beyond that, we sell a few pieces of diamond jewelry as well as trade in filled chargestones.  Amosis - the innkeeper - will buy or sell any chargestones.  He has a small collection from mages who have passed through, though nothing as useful as yours."

"I don't believe I've met any golems - they're very rare, in Garnethold, where I come from. Vampires either, thankfully. If any have ever thought to trouble me on my travels I suppose my brother likely scared them away." 

She glances at Ara'Vine, "Have you ever been anywhere vampires held such positions?" She asks, curious.

"A few, unfortunately.  The God of Evolution, also patron god of vampires, holds sway up in the far north near the pole."  He says this with obvious distaste.  "She's the one who has been spreading most of the anti-vaccine messages that occur up there - the same sort of 'cleansing the gene pool' nonsense that she made vampirism for."

He doesn't like most gods, but Silva is possibly the worst.  Mostly for the vaccine thing, but also because she also acts like a strange sycophant to Diamondeye, despite their opposing spheres.  Most of Diamondeye's churches on the surface have been at least partially funded or supported by Silva.  What's worse, the finch-winged god has on multiple occasions attempted to seduce him.  He's not sure what her game is, but he's not playing.

She makes a face at the mention of Silva, "She's been spreading anti-vaccine messages?" She asks. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," she admits. 

"She does love diseases."  Perhaps that's why she keeps bothering him - trying to talk him into using his power to create diseases?  "The thought occurs to me - in addition to creating healing plants, it is also possible for our power to create diseases.  I've been approached by her before, and that might have been what she was planning.  Keep an eye out for anyone who might be a follower of hers."

"I will," she agrees, serious. She has no desire to unleash any kind of plague. 

The necromancer, well-practiced at steering conversations, has decided they should move to something more pleasant. 

Perhaps they would like to hear about one of Eunova's more entertaining defeats of Silva, in that pair's long standing rivalry?  Eunova is the God of Architecture, and in particular has always had a focus on glass and mirrors.  Vampires can't be seen in mirrors.  This has led to more than one incident which is both humorous, and also a good thing to keep in mind if anyone ever wants to decorate a room in just the right way to make a vampire break their nose.  

She giggles a bit at the idea - she doesn't much like Eunova either (truly she doesn't have a particularly positive opinion of most of the gods she knows of) but the story is funny. 

There are plenty more stories where those came from.  Eunova is popular in Soth, and one of the few gods to produce bug-formed monsters.  Tales of helpful spiders creating ropes and webs to save people, and bee detectives solving crimes by noticing clues in colors humans can't see.

The chargestone coins get steadily filled.  

Bee detectives! That's very cute. 

They can sit there listening to stories until Ara'Vine's finished, though Erin will stop with a little over an hour left. 

Ara'Vine is happy to leave.  Necromancer parlors are unsettling - he doesn't especially like mental effects changing his opinions, though they'd be even less tolerable if he was forced to sit in one without the host having unnatural charisma.  

"You mentioned wanting to go to a market.  Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"Spices, and perhaps some of the food supplies I can't get outside settlements," she says. "I've also run out of some of the herbs which I think only grow in Garnethold - my hope is someone will sell some dried ones, here." 

They can head to the market.  Myrthish has a large selection, being a major trading port.  Just about any herb, spice, dye, or material known to the Korstrade-speaking world can be found, along with a variety of finished goods.  Many have been made in Kor's factories.  A horseless carriage draws attention as it passes through one of the wider roads.

Ara'Vine gawks slightly at the display.  This is the closest to Kor he's been in a long time, though he'd heard rumors of such things brought south by traders.  This distracts him, and he mostly follows Erin, not paying much mind to what he was planning to buy earlier.  

Erin eyes it as well as it passes - She's seen the like before, once or twice, but they are very eye-catching. 

She manages to find a seller who has most of the herbs and medicines she needs - Garnethold has so much variety that it's hard to carry everything - as well as the spices she's running low on.

Once she's finished, she turns to Ara'Vine, "Was there anything you needed?" 

He goes over everything in his mind.  

"I could use an orich-smith, but that could take weeks."  He's been putting that off for a while, still not sure what his less-than-useful orich-aluminum wire can be turned into instead.  He'll get around to thinking of something later, as it still isn't the time.   "Perhaps some clothing more suited to the ocean and rainforest?  Oh, and to look at an ice-machine, if they have any.  I'd rather not go all the way to Kor if I don't have to.  They don't like Diamondeye, and I've heard they've mostly ended the wandering-healer tradition over there so we wouldn't do much good."

"Oh, yes, you mentioned you wanted to take a look at one. There must be some traders from Kor around here somewhere - hopefully they won't mind if we take a look." 

She scans the area for anything likely - she's not sure how they're organizing foreign traders here, if the herb seller from Garnethold will be in the same area as the traders from Kor, or not.

Myrthish's traders are well-organized, but the markets are large enough that it's still hard to find where things are.  Ara'Vine winds up asking for directions, and they reach the portion of the city which contains functional machinery for use and sale.  

No one is selling ice machines, but there is a mechanic who owns a few.  Her shop mostly sells the resulting ice, with a connected shop that sells cold drinks.  She is initially hesitant, but accepts the logic of Ara'Vine's reason for looking and opens up the side of a machine to walk them through the components.  It is a complex system where ammonia is sent through pipes and components that compress and evaporate it from liquid to gas and back, and this somehow allows it to move heat away from a cold area into a warmer one, at the cost of extra heat to the outside.

Ara'Vine stays for a while, asking questions.  This doesn't make much sense to him, and he wishes he could assimilate and Sense it.

She stays to listen for a while, curious, but eventually wanders into the connected shop to try one of their drinks, waving to get Ara'Vine's attention so he knows where she's gone.

Hm... she'd like something new and interesting, if they have that, and small enough she won't have much to drink if she doesn't like it. 

Ara'Vine waves distractedly, then goes back to his studying.  He will be watching the ice machine work for a while.  The mechanic eventually has to get back to work and brings out the manual for him to pore over.  

Most of their drinks are fruit juice blends and sweet wines, served with pieces of frozen fruit inside.  The man at the counter suggests their most popular drink, which includes mostly familiar tropical fruits in the ingredients but with an exotic temperate berry among the frozen pieces.  None of the cups are especially large, given that the novel experience the shop offers is the chilled nature of the drinks.  

Sure, some familiarity with a bit of the new. She'll try it. 

She takes a sip and, offering the drink seller a pleased smile, goes back out into the attached mechanic's shop to watch Ara'Vine a little longer. 

"Do you think you'll be able to figure it out?" She asks. "I bought one of the drinks," she adds as well, "A fruit juice with frozen fruit mixed in - Would you like one?" 

"I think I understand how it works, but not how to do everything biologically."  He's tempted to stay put and learn more, and maybe spend another year or two here doing his best to copy it.  However, he has other things to do first.  He promises himself that he can go back to this the next time there's no major ecological disasters to fix.

"I'll try one of the drinks," he decides, setting the manual back where it belongs and waving goodbye to the busy mechanic.  He will also get what's recommended to him, though he's obviously still thinking about the more interesting puzzle of refrigeration.  

They go back to get him a drink. 

"I still want to visit a hospital here - you don't have to come along, you could spend more time working on the ice machine," she suggests.

"I'll join you at the hospital.  There's not much I can do now, other than write down what I've learned so I don't have to come back when I have magic to spare."  Luckily, the stationer will be close to where the hospital is. 

"Alright," she agrees. Then they can take drink their drinks and go looking for a hospital. Will the shopkeeper give them directions? 

He knows of three nearby.  The Kor one is biggest, but doesn't take wandering healers unless they sign on as long-term apprentices.  The Church of Paean has one in the Old City, and the Church of Enmire has one in the slums.

"I want to visit Enmire's hospital," she tells Ara'Vine. Her father's church likely has all the resources it needs, and a church in the slums could likely make use of her help. "If you don't mind." 

"I'm fine with that."  He's used to how Enmire in particular operates, and as a mostly Soth-based god he'll definitely have an attached stationer.  He does find it interesting that she didn't pick Paean, but he doesn't comment on it.

Well aside from the practicalities she still doesn't want to draw too much of his attention. 

To the slums they go, where they meet the healer in charge of Enmire's hospital. They can spend some time helping there, before eventually leaving come evening. 

"Saman will be waiting where he dropped us off," she says, "Should we make camp outside town again, or would you rather stay at an inn?" 

"I'd rather camp with Saman.  We should probably eat at an inn, though - it didn't seem like there was much to make a fire with where we landed."

No, there wasn't, was there. 

"That's true," she agrees. They can find an inn, then, and order a meal in the taproom. 

"Is there a reason to stay here another day, excepting offering aid at the hospital again?" She asks him. 

"I can't think of any." 

Inns are all over the place.  How about this one?  It's not too crowded, so far from the gates and the market, and the locals entering seem happy with it.

Sure, that looks nice! 

"Then we should move on, I suppose. Where next? You mentioned buying clothes suited to the ocean and rainforest - I don't have to return to Garnethold, but there's no reason not to, either." 

The walls of the room are decorated with the lids of crates hung up like paintings, showing many shipping company logos and labels of long-unloaded goods in a number of languages.  Between them are coarse artwork of ships.  The tables look to be in good condition, so this doesn't seem to be the sort of tavern where brawls are common, though from the smell in the air it does serve beer as well as food.

Of the dishes available, Ara'Vine goes for one cooked in an oven and thus rare on the road.

"We can travel pretty far in a year," he agrees, once they're seated.  "Though if we go much past Therma'Ro's shores we'll start running into language barriers."  That would mean Garnethold, northern Soth, Kor, and southern Setebre.  Possibly a bit into the Green Wild and southwestern Veth, if they go through the canals.  "I've been warned away from Kor for religious reasons, and we wouldn't do much good there with their medical system.  Also, while I do know Soth, I'm a bit tired of the desert.

"How far have you travelled?"

She will order something along the same lines, likely for the same reason. Oven cooked food is a rare treat when you live on the road (or river).

"Just Garnethold, really. I always meant to go farther, but," she smiles ruefully, "I guess I needed a push, to leave the familiar behind." 

"What about Setebre, then? We'll have to come back to see to Xeni once you have the algae figured out, but Sam is quick in the water."  

"I haven't been back to Setebre in..." he trails off.  Since he first became Diamondeye's Champion, after being returned to the surface from The Vault.  That would be around 1500 years ago.  "A while."

He's considering the far western coast in particular with a strange mix of curiosity and dread.  Would he have an emotional reaction to the place he's from?  After so long, he barely remembers anything beyond a basic summary reread from history books.  He does want to, now that it's been brought up.  

"We would probably still want to go up Garnethold or Kor to reach it."  Therma'Ro is small for an ocean, but still 1700 miles across. 

She notes the reaction, "You do want to go, though?" She asks, "We don't have to. We should go through Garnethold if we do, though, yes. No need to go through Kor, if it might be dangerous." 

"I do.  I'm from there," he says unnecessarily.  His features are clearly western setebran, as is his name - well, his name is ancient setebran.  No one has used that naming scheme in a very long time.  "Though I only lived in two towns, in a single country."

"Some people prefer to never go home again, once they leave," she says. She doesn't really want to go back to Elgea herself, though she could if necessary, and likely won't mind at all once a few decades have passed. 

"My home country doesn't exist anymore.  Even if not for the... geographic changes... the culture, language, cities, and everything else have changed to the point where it might as well be a foreign country."

He's never intentionally gone to a place where he'd been before.  He expects it to feel like the unpleasant jolt when he runs into someone he knew as a child and they now have children of their own - a reminder that almost every person he's ever known is dead, and that even if he stopped vanishing off to the horizon wherever he tried to stay would vanish on him. 

There isn't a good way to put that into words.  At least, whenever he tried to people didn't agree it was unpleasant.  Instead of trying, he takes a few more bites of food.

She pauses, considering this, and how it will eventually happen to her as well. She's not attached to any place, really, but the thought of going back to Elgea in a few hundred years, looking exactly as she is now, and finding a completely different place... of never being able to go home, no matter how much she disliked some parts of it... 

Yes, she can understand how that would be unpleasant. 

She takes a few bites of her own food, thinking.

"...It still hasn't sunk in, entirely, that I'm likely to live for... a long time," she murmurs. "There are things you carry with you, from where you grew up, no matter how old you get. The idea that someday, I'll be the only person who can call myself Elgean..." 

And every person she knows will die, except Ara'Vine, Sam, and maybe a few more, if she can keep deaging them, if it is right to make the tradeoff of all the lives she could save with the same time. And even then, eternal youth won't keep them from dying of injury, if she can't get to them in time. 

"It's not normally something I think about," he says.  "When you move around and never stay somewhere for more than a decade it's easy to not notice.  And I can keep a few people around, as well as anyone can."

She nods, "And better than most, I suppose." 

He did say he'd traveled with Elias for 700 years - and can you really ask for more, when the most any other human could expect would be most of a century? 

"...You mentioned that you would need access to the river to work on the algae," she says, moving to a less depressing topic, "Can we just bring some jugs of it, then?" 

He shakes his head.  "It'd be risky.  The longer it has to survive the more chance it'll die from something and I'll need to start over.  That was acceptable when I was in a safe greenhouse, but travelling around has so many more chances for contamination with saltwater or otherwise getting damaged somehow."

"The main thing slowing me down is access to magic.  If I keep storing up chargestones for a year, once I finally start I can work for several hours a day instead of just 6 per week."

She looks away, "I'm not sure I like the idea of leaving the people living on this river to suffer for so long," she says. "But it does sound like there's not much choice - either we wait, or we run the risk of it getting damaged while you work on it." 

"Things take as long as they take.  It's better to wait on the magic while travelling than to have to spend the entire year sitting in Xeni."  He's had more than enough of the desert, and more than enough of sitting in the same place for years.  He wants to see somewhere with proper forests again.  

She considers him for a moment. 

She supposes if she had just left after staying in one place for fifty years, she wouldn't want to settle in another place too quickly, either. Unless it was a very good place, perhaps. 

 "...Alright. Setebre, then." And Garnethold along the way. Plenty of greenery there.

They can finish up their meals and begin making their way out of the city gate.  A few stragglers are still coming into the city for the night, but most of the people who were leaving to head to a farm left a while ago.

Is Saman already back and waiting for them?

Yes - he's sitting on the riverbank, still dripping, chewing something. He swallows when he sees them coming. 

"Hello, Erin, Ara'Vine. Did you find everything you were looking for?" 

Erin trots up to him and kisses his nose, holding herself away from his head so as to prevent her clothes from getting soaked.

"Mostly, I think. Should we go back in tomorrow to find you some clothes suited to Garnethold and Setebre?" She asks Ara'Vine. She has clothes for Garnethold, of course, though she might need something else for when they reach the other as well.

"No, not for one thing.  There'll be plenty of places along the way before we reach actual rainforest that would be more worthwhile to spend multiple days in.  I also wasn't very impressed with the fabrics out of Kor."  They were very pretty, with machine-precise weave and well-dyed thread, but they had also seemed less durable.  Like they'd been made as something that could easily be thrown out again, instead of kept for years.  "Someone closer to Garnethold would be better at making clothes for rainforests, too."

"I wasn't paying them much attention," she admits, "That does seem consistent with the overall philosophy they seem to follow, however." 

She starts setting up camp, pitching her tent and pulling out her duskmindh. 

Ara'Vine has decided to leave his tent in Saman's pack and just take out his bedroll tonight.  

He pulls out the journals he bought, designed for explorers with a watertight case that can fold out to be a writing surface.  One will be for personal notes, including how refrigeration works.  In the other, he begins recapping what has happened since leaving Olivine Monastery.

And she tends her plant, and attempts meditation once again, using up much of her remaining time, to no avail. 

Practice is useful, even if it's not doing anything yet.  He can offer some encouraging words, though he has no way of knowing how close she is to affecting the plant.  

As far as non-magical care of the plant is concerned, the duskmindh is doing well.  It has a few more leaves than it did when she got it.  

She appreciates his encouragement anyway. Eventually, she'll put her duskmindh back in its place, wish her traveling companions a good night, and crawl into her tent to get some sleep.

They continue their journey westward, going clockwise around Therma'Ro Ocean.  Over the next two weeks, they leave Soth, pass across Helois, stop briefly at the two-island country of Jarexis, and make their way to Gyre - officially a part of the Garnethold region.  The land has slowly shifted from desert shore to richer heavier jungles and tropical swamplands.  The architecture has shifted alongside it, going from adobe and stone to primarily wood.  

Ara'Vine takes some time to get fitted for a new set of clothing.  It's colorful and sleeveless, a style popular among sailors and fishermen out here.  

She also switches out some of her clothes as they make their way towards her homeland. Her leggings and tops stay mostly the same, for practicality's sake, but her skirts become more brightly patterned, pink and green and blue, and more besides. She loses the shawl she was wearing over her arms, as well, when they're on shore. It's a relief to get away from the dryness of the desert, even around the river, and back to the humidity of Garnethold. 

He's not used to the mugginess yet, but distracts himself with looking at all of the wildlife.  There are so many interesting animals!  Flocks of birds, monkeys, and other jungle life are common sights, living right up alongside the settlements.  

As is their routine, they travel for a bit in the morning before stopping at yet another seaside village.  

The monkeys can be a bit of a menace if they don't keep an eye out, especially the ones near settlements. Her packs are all monkey-proof, though, so at least they can't make off with any supplies inside them.

"I know this village," she comments as they disembark. "I come through two times a year, usually - I was actually here recently, on my way to the southernmost islands." 

"Have you normally been coming through at specific times a year, or just whenever you happened to reach them as you go around your route?"

"A combination, I suppose. It's too hard to predict very exactly when I will get to any particular place, given that I can be delayed by a bad case at any point on my route, but I usually pass through around the same times every cycle." 

As they speak, a small party of locals - A woman in her mid thirties, a man in his early fourties, and two children of about 6 and 8 - make their way down to the shore to greet them, having recognized Saman. 

"Erin!" The younger one calls, darting ahead of the others to throw himself at the healer. 

"Cole," the older man admonishes tiredly. 

"Oh, let him be, you old grouch, she doesn't mind," the woman says, smacking his arm, before she turns a smile on Erin. "You're later than usual," she accuses playfully, "And you brought company!" She adds, peering up at the man next to her. 

She catches the boy, taking a step back and flaring her wings to keep her balance, "Ah! You're getting too heavy for this," she tells him laughingly. 

"We went a bit farther than we usually do," she says to the woman, "I met my father while I was in the south, and he granted me a Sorcery. Some of the applications proved difficult, however, so I went looking for some help," she looks up at Ara'Vine. 

"Goodness!" She smiles up at Erin's companion - whose identity she has some idea of, how interesting!

"Welcome to Rhysden," she offers him. "I am Candace Hol, and these are my children, Anabel and Colin, and my brother Tomas."

"I'm Ara'Vine."  He leaves off the 'Champion of Diamondeye' bit, which always manages to sound too formal.

"It's nice to meet you.  You're Erin's friends?"

(Yes, she thought so. There aren't many humans with his height.)

"We are," she agrees, turning her smile on the woman in question. Mostly, at any rate. Some might disagree with the term, in her case. "Practically family!" 

Erin steps closer to give Dacey a hug. "Any new cases since we left?" She asks. 

"Oh, nothing more than the usual little coughs and sniffles. The old butcher has been complaining about his leg more than he usually does," she adds, "But he could just be unusually grumpy this month." 

Ah.  

He can listen in, and comment if anything sounds like it could use his input.  "Anything unusual, or just an old injury?" he asks about the butcher's leg.

"The latter," she says. "Some foolery from his youth - it's near impossible to tell which story is the true one, there's a good dozen. All I can say for sure is that he lost a whole a whole chunk of muscle in his calf." 

"Has he not been using the salve I gave him?" 

She narrows her eyes in annoyance, "Who can say? I certainly hope he has been, given the volume of his complaints. If he's not been using it I might have to give him something new to complain about."

She huffs, shaking her head, "Well, we won't learn anything standing out here by the ocean. Come up to town! We can have a meal together, and you can tell us all the things you've been up to in the past few months." 

She turns to head back into the village, trailing her family.

"Do you mind?" Erin asks Ara'Vine.

"Sure, if I wouldn't be intruding."  He follows, letting the family lead them up to town.  It's familiar to Erin, but not to him, and he takes in the sights of the simple village.  

She laughs, "Don't worry, you won't be." Theirs is a long-running arrangement. 

The first big difference between the villages here and the ones in the deserts of Soth is easily picked out - every house is raised off the ground by at least a meter, to avoid flooding. The building materials are different, as well, of course, considering the easy access to wood in this environment. Most of the houses themselves are unpainted, but brightly coloured flowers and other plants adorn them and the ground around them, leaving the village looking cheery even in the intermittent drizzle. 

The Hols lead them into a house a few in from the edge - aside from Cole, still curled up in her arms. She's starting to get tired as they reach the house, and has to set him down to let him dash up the stairs. 

He can compliment the family on their garden.  They're not kinds he's used to, but he knows healthy plants when  he sees them.  

"What do you do for a living?" he asks Tomas, making conversation.  

"Thank you," Tomas says in return for the compliment, patting Ana's shoulder, "We put a lot of work into it.

"I teach, besides that," he adds with a tired smile. "Rhysden is a small village, but there are enough children here to keep me occupied." 

Cole leads the way into the house, pushing the lockless door out of his way and grabbing Erin's hand to pull her after him.

"I helped Mama make an art," he tells her once they're inside, tugging her over to a shelf full of intricate wooden carvings. The one he points to is a slightly cruder turtle. 

"It's Sam!" He adds, beaming up at her. 

"Oh!" Erin says, reaching up to pull it down, "He's lovely, Cole," she tells him with a smile.

"Come help me put dinner together, sweetheart," Dacey tells Ana. They vanish further into the house to do that.

The carvings are beautiful, and he recognizes some of the wood types.  

Hospitality traditions vary from country to country and this is his first time in Gyre.  He'll follow Erin's lead or otherwise go where he's put.  

They don't seem to expect much of anything from him. Erin is busy entertaining the small child. After a bit more enthusing over the carving of Saman, though, Cole turns to stare up at the Large Person. 

"You are very big." He informs Ara'Vine solemnly. 

(Tomas turns a snort into a cough.) 

(Erin hides a smile behind her hand.)

"I am," he says with the same serious tone.

He keeps staring at him for a long moment, then lifts his arms. "Up?" 

"Colin-" Tomas starts - before stopping when Erin puts a hand on his arm, shaking her head. 

Very up!  

He's raised dozens of children, and knows how to pick them up safely.  Ara'Vine's head is less than a handspan from the ceiling.  Colin can reach up and touch the ceiling from where he is if he wants to.  

"I'm tall so that I can see the tops of things," he says.  

He squeals at the amount of Up. 

He does touch the ceiling! He also peers around from this new height. He is the tallest, now! For a little while, anyway.

"How did you get so tall?" He asks, turning his attention to patting Ara'Vine's hair. "I wanna be tall." 

"Eat your vegetables," Tomas comments from the sidelines, smiling. 

Cole makes a scrunched face. 

Erin laughs quietly, smiling at the scene they make. "Your uncle isn't wrong about that, Colin."

"Vegetables are important," he says, as the authority on tallness.

Six year olds are pretty light, at least to him.  He can hold Colin until he starts wanting to be set down.  Just one of many useful things about being so big.

After a moment, he nods, sighing explosively, "I guess." 

He will keep peering around at things for a bit, looking at the carvings he can see from this height especially - "Not too close, please," Tomas requests when Cole asks to move closer to them.

"Down, now," he tells Ara'Vine once he's looked his fill, squirming about in his arms. 

Once he's on the ground, he runs off through the same door his mother and sister had gone through. 

"It shouldn't take them long," Tomas tells the two of them, taking hospitality duties while Dacey handles the food. He motions to a short table and a small pile of cushions off to the side, pulling one of them off the pile and settling on it on the floor. "I hope it's not too short for your comfort," he adds, frowning up at Ara'Vine, concerned.

"It's fine.  I have used this kind of furniture before," he remarks.  He'll need a bit of extra space to one side for his legs, but settles down comfortably. 

(His physical enhancements aren't just about height and the ability to see magnetic fields and such - he can sit comfortably in just about any position he can assume.  He did practice this one in particular to also look like he's comfortable.)

They can all settle around the table, then. And, shortly, dinner will be served. 

"Will you be joining Erin on her circuits of Garnethold, then?" Dacey asks Ara'Vine once she and her children have joined them. 

He hadn't given it much thought.  "Probably, if that's what she'd prefer to do.  We'll be going a bit farther north to Setebre, then taking another detour to Xeni in about a year to help with an issue with the river.  After that... I certainly wouldn't mind spending a while in Garnethold.  It's a nice change from the desert."

"Hm, I should keep helping in this area at least some of the time. If we go farther afield, I will have to check in with the main temple in Elgea so they know I will not be doing so, anymore. I would like to see more of the world, however, and there are other healers." 

He considers that.  "Staying to your usual track might be a good thing for a while.  Towns with people you know well are towns where you'll be able to heal others, once you're able to do that reliably.  I'm hardly one to advise against travelling, though."

"That's a good point." She nods, "After we return from Setebre, perhaps we could return to my circuit until we leave for Xeni." And plans for after Xeni can wait, she thinks. 

He nods, content with the plan.  "How far north do you go on your circuit, usually?"

"Kintheld usually, but I might go farther north briefly if news reaches me that I might be needed there. There was a particularly bad illness in one of the villages on the eastern coast of Amethi a few years ago. That was the last time I visited - healers are far more common in the north of the isles, near Elgea."

"We're not truly strapped for healers, around here, either," Dacey agrees, "But they're in high demand farther south."

That makes sense, considering that Elgea is where Paean the God of Healing has his main temple.

He doesn't have much more to say, but can listen in if they're talking about local healing and illnesses.  

When Erin inquires, they'll go over the various sicknesses which have passed through town since she did. Nothing serious, it turns out, nothing that didn't pass within a few days. The only things that might call for her attention are the butchers knee and a young woman who broke her wrist a few weeks ago, falling out of a tree. 

He makes mental notes of the local issues, but it looks like everything's being handled as well as he could do it.  

Sounds like it, yes. 

Dinner goes on, and eventually ends. Tomas gets the kids to help him carry the dishes back to the kitchen and wash up. 

"We have room if you'd like to stay the night," Dacey offers Ara'Vine. 

"I'd appreciate that, thank you."

They can set him up with a place to sleep, then. Night falls, and all the residents (and Erin) retreat to their usual bedrooms to sleep as well.

They sleep, and wake, and prepare for the day. 

Over breakfast, Erin outlines her plans for the day - visit the butcher and the girl who broke her wrist, check in on a couple of old and long-term patients to ensure all is as well as it seems with them, stop by Tomas' class to give a quick first aid lesson, and pick up some supplies from the small market in the center of town. That should only take until mid-afternoon, but would Ara'Vine object to staying another night before they move on?

"Take all the time you want."  The continent of North Cardinal isn't going anywhere.  Or, if the geologists are right about tectonic shifts, it's at least not going anywhere fast enough to matter.

He plans his own itinerary.  Among other things, he wants to visit the place where medicinal herbs are grown to check on the plants and trade seeds.  Possibly visit the temple and see if there are any local shrines to Diamondeye he'll be expected to visit.  

"I can be the one to buy supplies today.  Anything in particular we should get?"