Categories > Games > Fire Emblem > Shadows Under the Oak Tree
Shadows Under the Oak Tree
(C) Intelligent Systems and Nintendo
-0-
2. One Day
(/Of picture books and barrels of meat./)
Canas woke up in a soft bed, and this time it was expected.
He could ill afford to take such a wonderful boon for granted, so he rolled onto his back and wound himself even more tightly in the blankets, thoroughly enjoying the practice of being lazy. After ten minutes he was tired of it and managed to extricate himself from the many thick blankets; a summer in Ostia and autumn in Thria had decimated his resistance to the cold. Though, he supposed he hadn't been home in a very long time.
He found his monocle on the bedside table and smiled as the room came into complete focus. It was hard for him to remember just how long he had needed it; according to his mother, his right eye had been weak from birth. He likened it to the tale of Odin, who removed one eye to obtain knowledge and see even more clearly. However, Canas was quite content in seeing out of both eyes for the moment. After all, one could learn so much just by observing their surroundings; case in point, the room he now occupied.
Lily had left him the use of her bedroom and moved all her necessary articles into the room at the end of the lone corridor. It was hard for him to assume that she actually slept there, since lately he had noticed with some concern the late hours she'd been keeping in her workroom. As for the room, if he had to make an estimate, the available space was roughly divided between the small bed and three large bookcases. In the week since he arrived in Corinth, he had perused the contents of one of the bookcases and found it to contain sources on foreign herbal remedies. He wasn't quite sure why an Elibean herbalist would own such materials, since none of the plants used were native to the country, but then he realized that perhaps this was her focus of study. The thought pleased him; there were precious few people devoted to the scholarly arts.
As was his wont, he selected a book at random for the day's study. It just wouldn't do to go through each row of books in order. Knowledge, and the lifelong quest for it, could never be traveled in a straight line. This was something he believed in fervently, and so he pulled out a thin book with all the anticipation of someone waiting their turn at the arena. He pored over the cover, then blinked. "'An Illustrated Guide to Elibe'?" he read aloud. "Perhaps this is a book Lily enjoyed in her childhood." Flipping open the book, he stared at the page for a long moment before blinking again.
Several pages later, he was entranced. The rolling fields of gold at harvest time in Pherae jumped out at him, vivid in its subtle use of shading between the golden stalks of wheat. Another page, and there was the fields of violets common to Etruria's Reglay province. Canas mentally gasped at the next page. Oh, Bern's famous mountain range! Is that what the interior of a wyvern's den looks like? Ah, Edessa's spring of Pyrene! If only I was allowed to visit it...the artist must be a woman. Hm, is that...
Several hours later, he realized that he was supposed to have breakfast with Lily.
-0-
Lily's teeth chattered as she strode through the village. Snowflakes liberally dotted her hair, but the big storm hadn't arrived yet. The spirits had already told her that the first real storm of winter would arrive in three days. She had done her duty and warned the villagers, who were now imbued with a frantic energy as they bustled to get their affairs in order before settling in to wait out the storm. It was the same with her; between preparing tea packets and treatments to give to each household and dragging supplies home so that she and Canas could ride out the blizzard, she was exhausted. However, she could rest once the storm came.
/Though, I would've liked to have breakfast/, she grumbled to herself as she stopped at Tinae's shop. After stomping a couple times to warm her feet, she knocked on the door. A moment passed while she blew into her gloved hands. The door swung open and there was Tinae herself, a slight woman whose delicate features belied her skill with the bow, as well as her lightning flashes of temper. She hunted, her husband cleaned and prepared the animals, and the entire family created such delicacies like devil's bread and ruffled venison alongside plainer fare like salted meats. The latter was in a large, marked barrel beside Tinae, who smiled up at Lily. "Lily, you look well. Would you like to come in for lunch? We're just starting it now."
Lily could tell; the scent of slow-cooked rabbit was currently conducting a takeover of her sensibilities. It had already conquered her nose. Unfortunately, a meal here meant having to deal with Tinae, who was a hard friend to like. "I'd love to, but I still need to give Corriban his daily dosage, and I have to brew that tea at home," she said, forming the words through a mouth that wanted nothing more than to savor hot food.
"You're always so good at making excuses," Tinae sighed, swiping dark blue bangs out of her eyes.
Frowning, Lily held out the curatives package. It wasn't the first time she had heard those words, but they were annoying to hear all the same. /And everyone feels the need to say them this time of the year, when the possibility of colds and pneumonia and sore throats are so commonplace/, she thought. "That's my ration, right?" she asked, gesturing with a sharp nod at the barrel.
Taking the package, Tinae gave Lily a searching look that the latter woman considered to be a pale imitation of her own mother's knowing eyes. "Oh, are you angry? You know I didn't mean it that way. I just wish you would rely on us more. I have plenty of food."
"But no vegetables or fruit." Ah, why did I say that to /her/? Lily wondered. Maybe I'm too tired.
Tinae stamped a foot down in frustration, a common gesture for the mother of three. "Dried fruit is good enough! If you want to be pampered with all that other stuff, don't live in Ilia!"
It was hard for Lily not to smile at an older woman acting like a child, even if she was used to it. "Right. I'm very sorry if I implied that your meats aren't good enough." She ran a hand through her loose hair and studied the hopeful expression of the woman before her. "I suppose lunch would be a good idea--
Canas would surely like it...oh, wait...
--oh, I forgot! Never mind, I can't today." At Tinae's glare, Lily hastened to explain. "I need to feed my house guest."
"Oh, the man who sleeps in the snow," Tinae said in a dismissive tone. "I wonder if it might not have been better to have let him be."
Even though her friend was known for tactlessness, Lily's features hardened in disgust. "What's this? Has the coming of true winter frozen your heart? Our land may be cold, but that should only make us more warm to our guests as well as each other." She shook her head, trying to steer herself out of the dangerously idealistic mindset she had suddenly acquired. "Would you want others to say that Barigan's children are as chilly and unyielding as the land?"
Tinae said nothing for a long moment, and when she took a deep breath it looked to Lily like she was hesitant to say her next words. "You know how my son likes to travel to the best hunting grounds. He told me that they already say that. Etruria, Lycia's circle...they say that we sell death."
"Oh?" With a small, tight smile, Lily bent down to drag the barrel onto the porch. Suddenly, she just wanted to leave. "How is selling death any worse than buying it?" With a grunt, she managed to hoist the barrel a ways into the snow. "Good day, Tinae. I packed some extra vividam tea leaves for that nasty cough your husband's been having."
"Lily, wouldn't you like some help?" Lily heard Tinae call out as she began to drag the barrel towards her house in short bursts of movement. Still a little stung at Tinae's earlier comments, she deliberately raised her head and smiled at the hunter.
"Don't worry, I can handle everything myself."
Moving on, she pretended not to hear Tinae's retort. It was a common one that multiplied in intensity in the months after her parents passed away. "You're doing too much," they always said. "Let us help you. Let us take care of you like you do for us."
But it's not their responsibility/, she thought as she jerked the barrel out of a thick clump of snow. /It's my job to take care of them. I can do that whether my parents are here or not. Their concern is appreciated, but it sounds so much like doubt...
Ruthlessly, she cut off that thought. No one doubted her. She was capable and competent. They were just worried about her, and she supposed she would be worried too if she were them. After all, she was the last of her family. Any human being capable of concern would be sympathetic to her plight.
What am I thinking? It isn't nearly that bad/, she told herself as she sighed and slumped over the top of the barrel. /I love everyone, but sometimes...I wonder if Iris had felt this way?
Straightening out, she pushed her hair behind her ears before staring down at the barrel. After rolling up her sleeves, she hugged the barrel around its middle and hefted it out of the small drift she had maneuvered it into. A silver of wood jabbed into the soft flesh of her forearm, causing her to jerk away in pain. Unsupported, the barrel fell onto its side. She stared at the dark line just right under the surface of her pale skin, then glanced at the fallen barrel that now sat on top of the drift she'd been trying to get it out of.
Putting one booted foot on the barrel's plump middle, she began to kick it to her house.
-0-
Freshly dressed, Canas exited the bedroom with another book in hand. He was more concerned about the clothing he was wearing than he was about the book, a first. Lily had asked him after the first few days if he had anything other than his traveling clothes, and he was surprised that she had thought that he would simply throw out his extra clothes in favor of more books. He had hastened to remove that idea from her mind, telling her how he had bargained with a connoisseur of ancient magic tomes over a particularly rare account of the magic the legendary heroes had used in The Scouring. In order to cover the final offer, he...well, he needed to sell something, and it turned out that the durable quality of Ilian-made clothes fetched quite the price when one considered how cold Lycia could be, snuggled between the mountains and sea as it was.
He could still remember the expression upon her face. It made him sorry he had answered.
In the end, she had sent him to the tailor's house with a note, and no matter how much he protested--which wasn't much, considering he did like the idea of warmer clothing--she could not be moved. She only told him that, while he lived under her roof, it was her responsibility to make sure he didn't freeze to death. In the light of such forthright kindness--and /the look/--all he could do was thank her profusely and do exactly as she asked.
It is....strange/, he told himself as he walked into the small sitting room. There was a plate of bread, assorted containers of preserves, and a pot of tea set up on the table that stood between two antique couches. The setup of the furniture suggested that this was a true home, used to bustling families and the warmth they exuded, nothing like his mother's house. Sitting down, he poured himself a cup of cold tea before reaching for a slice of bread. It was a simple breaking of the fast, but even after a week of three meals a day he found it much to his liking. /All this...is quite strange, but I must admit that it feels rather...pleasant.
Still holding a bit of bread, he propped open the book with his other hand. The title, Trinity: The Magic Triangle of Anima, had caught his eye when he had finally torn himself away from the picture book. He ate as he read, occasionally pausing to write in the margins. Lily had assured him that she wouldn't mind, and he had seen her handwriting, small and careful, in her foreign remedies manuals. Another question occurred some paragraphs down, and after his annotation he prepared a proper slice of bread. The tartness of seyonne berries prodding his taste buds, the words of the tome stirring his highly developed curiosity--oh, it was a feast fit for a scholar-king! And, Canas remembered, it actually was according to the court account of the fifth king of Etruria.
When he finished his very late breakfast, he placed his drained cup on top of the crumb-littered plate and took it over to the metal bucket next to the door. Lily had insisted that she would do the dishes. Considering that the only available water happened to be sealed in the snow, he could see the logic in her reasoning. She was always very logical when she told him why he couldn't help with the chores. A thought occurred to him at this: She takes very seriously the tenets of the master...err, mistress of the house and how to treat guests. Either that, or...
He didn't have an 'or'. Maybe he didn't need to have one. In the past, when someone was gracious enough to let him into their home, he never analyzed why. It paled to the knowledge he could be gathering from books. But Lily...well, she was a book in and of herself. She was a source of knowledge about anima, and that was enough to warrant a healthy respect for her. But her generosity seemed to have no boundaries, and that was very strange in a land as barren and unforgiving as Ilia.
Or perhaps it is /because she is an Ilian/? he asked himself as he opened the front door. It was snowing lightly, though the amount already on the ground suggested it had been heavier during the night. The wind blew, making him shiver and consider retreating back into the house, but every morning for the past week he had forced himself to take a short walk in order to acclimate himself to the weather. Growing up, his mother used to make him and his brothers stay outside all day when they complained too loudly about the cold, and since they were all still alive he supposed that it hadn't been quite that bad.
After all, the cold could freeze the body, but at least it left the mind intact.
He adjusted his monocle, even though there was no need, and stepped into the snow. After closing the door, he swiftly buried his hands deep into his sleeves, his arms forming a crude circle as chapped hands clutched the soft area on the underside of his forearms and tried to draw out as much of the warmth as possible. As he began his walk, he tried to keep comparisons between the chill and the brand of magic he practiced out of his mind. He was successful in the same way it was said Bramimond had been successful in controlling elder magic, which wasn't very much because Bramimond was said to be nothing more than a reflection, having lost its own identity in the trade for ultimate power.
Is that where the use of elder magic will lead me? Is that...an inevitability? Closing his eyes, Canas stopped, letting the snowflakes drift onto him and feeling the slow burn of each as they touched his face. It decimated the minds of my brothers, and yet I complied with Mother's wish. The thrill of knowledge is worth many sacrifices, but what is knowledge if I lack the facilities to comprehend and enjoy it?
And yet, I continue. Elder magic is a path to knowledge...in a way, becoming a scholar sealed my fate, even though my brothers did much more than simply subsist in those days...
A dull sound, punctuated by an inarticulate cry, snapped him from his brooding. In the distance, there was a figure. After he grudgingly pulled out his hands and wiped his monocle, the figure appeared to be that of a woman. When the woman kicked something dark in front of her, it started moving. In fact, it seemed to be growing proportionally in width and length, and it was with a start that Canas realized it was headed directly at him. Two large steps to the side allowed him to comfortably avoid the object; when it passed him he observed it to be a barrel of considerable weight, if the furrow it was leaving behind was any indication. The woman began approaching, and it was that milky jade green of her hair--though with all the snowflakes it now had the appearance of a certain type of weed common to Sacae, which he hated to admit that he hadn't known was toxic until he ate one--that tipped him off that it was Lily. He smiled and waved, a greeting she returned. "Good morning, Lily!" He pointed behind him, where the barrel had stopped when it collided with a small drift. "Morning chores?"
"What?" she called back, and he arched an eyebrow in response. She wasn't that far away. After a short jog she was standing before him, her wide eyes the perfect match that her hair wasn't at the moment. "Excuse me, but I was listening to the spirits."
That was a phrase she used constantly. Even with all the tomes detailing anima's usage of the nature spirits, he had thought of it as some sort of meditation until he met her. The other mages and sages he had the opportunity to meet cared more about studying the written word than communicating with nature. "I see." The fancy to ask her if they had said anything of interest struck him, and he had to push that thought away. This wasn't the time for a lecture on the principles of communing with the spirits, not when he was freezing. "I asked if you were completing your morning chores."
"Morning?" She smiled at him in the same way she always smiled just before she corrected him. He was starting to get used to it. "It's at least an hour past noon."
"Ah...I didn't realize." Perhaps he had spent more time with the picture book than he had thought. "Did the spirits inform you of that?" Ruefully, he wondered why the pull of curiosity was so strong that he would set himself up for a long discussion while his nerves were screaming at him that it was cold, he was cold, get inside!
She closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, they don't care about the time. They just like being listened to." He furrowed his brow at this, not because he didn't understand, but because that sounded more human than he would've thought nature spirits to be. That made him wonder about a theory he had read once, one about the communication between sages and spirits being little more than the anima user making a little too much of their own mind's babble. Of course, that little tidbit came from a highly contentious tome written by a long-dead druid, and personally such an opinion was unacceptable for serious consideration since the source was biased--
There was something on his cheek. After a moment, he realized it was Lily's hand, the touch of leather colder than the snowflakes. "Your eyes just glazed over," she informed him. She removed her hand and frowned at him. "You look so cold. Let's get you inside, and I'll start a nice fire and make lunch. I am so hungry, but with the coming storm I scarcely have a moment of rest..." She continued in this vein as she took hold of his arm and began leading him to the house.
As they passed by the barrel, he finally had the presence of mind to ask, "Err...what about your current chores?"
She paused, glancing around until she spotted the barrel. "Oh, that? Don't worry about it. It looks like I'll have to melt the snow around it if I want to get it into the storeroom before dark."
Canas smiled. Finally, something he could help her with. "I can assist you, if you like."
"No, no, please don't concern yourself about it," she replied. It appeared to him that she was flustered by his offer. "You're a guest, after all."
"But...even if I am a guest, I plan on staying here for quite a while. At least through the winter. One could say that, with such an extended stay, I will become something of a fixture at your home." He was starting to become flustered himself, seeing how her expression was starting to become blank at his entreaties. Valiantly, he continued to try. "That would, err, supersede my 'guest' status, I would think."
She was silent for a few moments before she smiled. "You're very kind, and I appreciate that, but this isn't a topic of discussion when it's already so cold. Look, you're even shivering now."
"Oh, I, err..." He was about to continue his protest--not against the shivering, that he couldn't deny--but she was taking off her gloves and tucking them somewhere inside the folds of her cloak and touching his face with both hands and--
Warm. Her hands were warm.
Her eyes were closed, her teeth gritting behind parted lips. Canas resisted the urge to sink into the Sight to see if she really was casting magic; the answer was obvious in her strained expression. It was as his mother had told him, that very thing that caused him to drop everything and return to the country he left years ago. The Albion line's inherited talent, an ability he had considered impossible.
The ability to memorize and recite spell incantations at will.
With a sharp gasp, she staggered back. He reached out and held her shoulders, steadying her. Her complexion was paler than usual, and it took a few minutes before she opened her eyes. "Ah...I haven't done that in a while..."
"You...you can cast without the spell tome?" The thought of anyone having such power, when even the legendary heroes had needed tomes to anchor them, was almost too much for him.
She swallowed, and to him it didn't look like a comfortable action to take. "Of course I need that..." She moved away from him and reached under her cloak, pulling out a Fire tome. "When I was very young I needed to hold it, but as the words become one with my soul I just need to have it near me."
"I...Forgive me, but..." There were thoughts flaring in his mind, questions and learned bits of information tumbling over and into themselves until he simply stopped and attempted to untangle them.
"Some other time. Please." She smiled at him, a pale imitation of her normal smiles. This he was almost as sorry to see as that other look. "Do you feel warmer now?"
"I..." He hadn't realized it at the time, stunned at the use of her talent as he was, but he did feel much warmer now. "Yes, yes I do. I...thank you."
"Good." Now her smile was as bright as ever. "Let's eat."
-0-
Hunched over an old table, its top stained with the alchemical doings of years past, Lily stared intently at the sheet of paper in front of her. The light from the small lantern on the table glimmered weakly, revealing the dark, desiccated leaves on the paper. Picking one up, she rolled it between her thumb and index finger and watched it twist and crumble into dark flecks. Her mouth twisted in consideration as she continued to test the consistency between her fingers long after most of the leaf dotted the paper. After sniffing at her fingers and wincing as a sharp, bitter stink bit into her sinuses, she nodded in a slow, deliberate manner. Not bad/, she thought, making sure the affected fingers stayed as far away from her mouth as possible. The idea of spending the next day--or more, by the sour potency of the smell--in the privy didn't appeal to her. /If Kelial gives me one more forlorn look whenever a lady invites him to dinner, I might scream. Only an Ilian can truly appreciate our style of cooking...ah, the horrors of being a foreigner and a bachelor...
The thought was interrupted by her mind's image of Canas. In it, he was sitting on her couch and reading a thick tome while a steaming cup of tea went unnoticed on the table. It was a fairly accurate picture of what she usually saw when she came home for lunch and dinner. /He's not a foreigner, but that's hard to believe. He shows how cold he is far too easily/.
Sighing, she deposited the rest of the leaves into a small vial, leaving it on the paper as a reminder. After blowing out the lantern, she stood still and waited for the room to come into focus, first in lines and then into vaguely defined shapes, before making her way out. She entered the sitting room, intent on grabbing some snow just outside the front door and melting it at the hearth to clean off her fingers, but she stopped when she noticed that her house guest was there and engrossed in one of her tomes. He was reading by the low light of the hearth, and it made her wonder if that wasn't how he'd ended up needing a monocle. Though, how he managed to ruin only one eye escaped her at the moment.
"Ah, Canas. What are you doing out here?" she asked, confused. She was used to seeing a light from the partly-opened door of her old room; as far as she knew, he only read in the sitting room because that was where she put the meals and tea.
"Oh, Lily." She noted how tired he sounded and grew even more confused. Putting the opened book cover-up on his lap, he looked at her, the lit hearth casting shadows that granted a sort of genteel eeriness to his features. "I, ah, couldn't seem to find a respite from the ache in my back."
Lily shook her head at this. "I told you that you didn't need to help me, didn't I?" But he just didn't listen/, she grumbled to herself. /It's like he uses his kindness to tunnel a way through a person.
"Yes, but--"
"It doesn't matter. Really." She yawned loudly, hiding the unseemly action behind a hand. "Please understand that I don't need you to pay me back with chores or money or anything of the like. Just appreciate the knowledge of my bloodline and I'll be happy."
As long as you continue to respect us like you did at my parents' graves, it's enough.
"Your bloodline..." She heard the odd timbre in his voice and frowned. "I would not want to keep you from your rest, but I must ask this: Do you know why your heritage possess such a talent like enhanced memorization of the magic chants?"
For a long moment, she stared at him in disbelief. Maybe she was more tired than she thought she was. "Canas...do you believe that memorization is a...an inherited talent?"
"Err...was I wrong?" If there had been more light, she imagined she would be able to see a flustered look on his face. She was getting very used to seeing it. Sighing again, she shook her head.
"We'll just say you aren't right and leave it at that for tonight." Barely registering the "oh, I see" that was his reply, she headed towards the front door. Wash her hands, go to bed, and continue the cycle of another day dealing with people who couldn't leave well enough alone...
She couldn't wait for the storms to hit.
-to be continued...-
(C) Intelligent Systems and Nintendo
-0-
2. One Day
(/Of picture books and barrels of meat./)
Canas woke up in a soft bed, and this time it was expected.
He could ill afford to take such a wonderful boon for granted, so he rolled onto his back and wound himself even more tightly in the blankets, thoroughly enjoying the practice of being lazy. After ten minutes he was tired of it and managed to extricate himself from the many thick blankets; a summer in Ostia and autumn in Thria had decimated his resistance to the cold. Though, he supposed he hadn't been home in a very long time.
He found his monocle on the bedside table and smiled as the room came into complete focus. It was hard for him to remember just how long he had needed it; according to his mother, his right eye had been weak from birth. He likened it to the tale of Odin, who removed one eye to obtain knowledge and see even more clearly. However, Canas was quite content in seeing out of both eyes for the moment. After all, one could learn so much just by observing their surroundings; case in point, the room he now occupied.
Lily had left him the use of her bedroom and moved all her necessary articles into the room at the end of the lone corridor. It was hard for him to assume that she actually slept there, since lately he had noticed with some concern the late hours she'd been keeping in her workroom. As for the room, if he had to make an estimate, the available space was roughly divided between the small bed and three large bookcases. In the week since he arrived in Corinth, he had perused the contents of one of the bookcases and found it to contain sources on foreign herbal remedies. He wasn't quite sure why an Elibean herbalist would own such materials, since none of the plants used were native to the country, but then he realized that perhaps this was her focus of study. The thought pleased him; there were precious few people devoted to the scholarly arts.
As was his wont, he selected a book at random for the day's study. It just wouldn't do to go through each row of books in order. Knowledge, and the lifelong quest for it, could never be traveled in a straight line. This was something he believed in fervently, and so he pulled out a thin book with all the anticipation of someone waiting their turn at the arena. He pored over the cover, then blinked. "'An Illustrated Guide to Elibe'?" he read aloud. "Perhaps this is a book Lily enjoyed in her childhood." Flipping open the book, he stared at the page for a long moment before blinking again.
Several pages later, he was entranced. The rolling fields of gold at harvest time in Pherae jumped out at him, vivid in its subtle use of shading between the golden stalks of wheat. Another page, and there was the fields of violets common to Etruria's Reglay province. Canas mentally gasped at the next page. Oh, Bern's famous mountain range! Is that what the interior of a wyvern's den looks like? Ah, Edessa's spring of Pyrene! If only I was allowed to visit it...the artist must be a woman. Hm, is that...
Several hours later, he realized that he was supposed to have breakfast with Lily.
-0-
Lily's teeth chattered as she strode through the village. Snowflakes liberally dotted her hair, but the big storm hadn't arrived yet. The spirits had already told her that the first real storm of winter would arrive in three days. She had done her duty and warned the villagers, who were now imbued with a frantic energy as they bustled to get their affairs in order before settling in to wait out the storm. It was the same with her; between preparing tea packets and treatments to give to each household and dragging supplies home so that she and Canas could ride out the blizzard, she was exhausted. However, she could rest once the storm came.
/Though, I would've liked to have breakfast/, she grumbled to herself as she stopped at Tinae's shop. After stomping a couple times to warm her feet, she knocked on the door. A moment passed while she blew into her gloved hands. The door swung open and there was Tinae herself, a slight woman whose delicate features belied her skill with the bow, as well as her lightning flashes of temper. She hunted, her husband cleaned and prepared the animals, and the entire family created such delicacies like devil's bread and ruffled venison alongside plainer fare like salted meats. The latter was in a large, marked barrel beside Tinae, who smiled up at Lily. "Lily, you look well. Would you like to come in for lunch? We're just starting it now."
Lily could tell; the scent of slow-cooked rabbit was currently conducting a takeover of her sensibilities. It had already conquered her nose. Unfortunately, a meal here meant having to deal with Tinae, who was a hard friend to like. "I'd love to, but I still need to give Corriban his daily dosage, and I have to brew that tea at home," she said, forming the words through a mouth that wanted nothing more than to savor hot food.
"You're always so good at making excuses," Tinae sighed, swiping dark blue bangs out of her eyes.
Frowning, Lily held out the curatives package. It wasn't the first time she had heard those words, but they were annoying to hear all the same. /And everyone feels the need to say them this time of the year, when the possibility of colds and pneumonia and sore throats are so commonplace/, she thought. "That's my ration, right?" she asked, gesturing with a sharp nod at the barrel.
Taking the package, Tinae gave Lily a searching look that the latter woman considered to be a pale imitation of her own mother's knowing eyes. "Oh, are you angry? You know I didn't mean it that way. I just wish you would rely on us more. I have plenty of food."
"But no vegetables or fruit." Ah, why did I say that to /her/? Lily wondered. Maybe I'm too tired.
Tinae stamped a foot down in frustration, a common gesture for the mother of three. "Dried fruit is good enough! If you want to be pampered with all that other stuff, don't live in Ilia!"
It was hard for Lily not to smile at an older woman acting like a child, even if she was used to it. "Right. I'm very sorry if I implied that your meats aren't good enough." She ran a hand through her loose hair and studied the hopeful expression of the woman before her. "I suppose lunch would be a good idea--
Canas would surely like it...oh, wait...
--oh, I forgot! Never mind, I can't today." At Tinae's glare, Lily hastened to explain. "I need to feed my house guest."
"Oh, the man who sleeps in the snow," Tinae said in a dismissive tone. "I wonder if it might not have been better to have let him be."
Even though her friend was known for tactlessness, Lily's features hardened in disgust. "What's this? Has the coming of true winter frozen your heart? Our land may be cold, but that should only make us more warm to our guests as well as each other." She shook her head, trying to steer herself out of the dangerously idealistic mindset she had suddenly acquired. "Would you want others to say that Barigan's children are as chilly and unyielding as the land?"
Tinae said nothing for a long moment, and when she took a deep breath it looked to Lily like she was hesitant to say her next words. "You know how my son likes to travel to the best hunting grounds. He told me that they already say that. Etruria, Lycia's circle...they say that we sell death."
"Oh?" With a small, tight smile, Lily bent down to drag the barrel onto the porch. Suddenly, she just wanted to leave. "How is selling death any worse than buying it?" With a grunt, she managed to hoist the barrel a ways into the snow. "Good day, Tinae. I packed some extra vividam tea leaves for that nasty cough your husband's been having."
"Lily, wouldn't you like some help?" Lily heard Tinae call out as she began to drag the barrel towards her house in short bursts of movement. Still a little stung at Tinae's earlier comments, she deliberately raised her head and smiled at the hunter.
"Don't worry, I can handle everything myself."
Moving on, she pretended not to hear Tinae's retort. It was a common one that multiplied in intensity in the months after her parents passed away. "You're doing too much," they always said. "Let us help you. Let us take care of you like you do for us."
But it's not their responsibility/, she thought as she jerked the barrel out of a thick clump of snow. /It's my job to take care of them. I can do that whether my parents are here or not. Their concern is appreciated, but it sounds so much like doubt...
Ruthlessly, she cut off that thought. No one doubted her. She was capable and competent. They were just worried about her, and she supposed she would be worried too if she were them. After all, she was the last of her family. Any human being capable of concern would be sympathetic to her plight.
What am I thinking? It isn't nearly that bad/, she told herself as she sighed and slumped over the top of the barrel. /I love everyone, but sometimes...I wonder if Iris had felt this way?
Straightening out, she pushed her hair behind her ears before staring down at the barrel. After rolling up her sleeves, she hugged the barrel around its middle and hefted it out of the small drift she had maneuvered it into. A silver of wood jabbed into the soft flesh of her forearm, causing her to jerk away in pain. Unsupported, the barrel fell onto its side. She stared at the dark line just right under the surface of her pale skin, then glanced at the fallen barrel that now sat on top of the drift she'd been trying to get it out of.
Putting one booted foot on the barrel's plump middle, she began to kick it to her house.
-0-
Freshly dressed, Canas exited the bedroom with another book in hand. He was more concerned about the clothing he was wearing than he was about the book, a first. Lily had asked him after the first few days if he had anything other than his traveling clothes, and he was surprised that she had thought that he would simply throw out his extra clothes in favor of more books. He had hastened to remove that idea from her mind, telling her how he had bargained with a connoisseur of ancient magic tomes over a particularly rare account of the magic the legendary heroes had used in The Scouring. In order to cover the final offer, he...well, he needed to sell something, and it turned out that the durable quality of Ilian-made clothes fetched quite the price when one considered how cold Lycia could be, snuggled between the mountains and sea as it was.
He could still remember the expression upon her face. It made him sorry he had answered.
In the end, she had sent him to the tailor's house with a note, and no matter how much he protested--which wasn't much, considering he did like the idea of warmer clothing--she could not be moved. She only told him that, while he lived under her roof, it was her responsibility to make sure he didn't freeze to death. In the light of such forthright kindness--and /the look/--all he could do was thank her profusely and do exactly as she asked.
It is....strange/, he told himself as he walked into the small sitting room. There was a plate of bread, assorted containers of preserves, and a pot of tea set up on the table that stood between two antique couches. The setup of the furniture suggested that this was a true home, used to bustling families and the warmth they exuded, nothing like his mother's house. Sitting down, he poured himself a cup of cold tea before reaching for a slice of bread. It was a simple breaking of the fast, but even after a week of three meals a day he found it much to his liking. /All this...is quite strange, but I must admit that it feels rather...pleasant.
Still holding a bit of bread, he propped open the book with his other hand. The title, Trinity: The Magic Triangle of Anima, had caught his eye when he had finally torn himself away from the picture book. He ate as he read, occasionally pausing to write in the margins. Lily had assured him that she wouldn't mind, and he had seen her handwriting, small and careful, in her foreign remedies manuals. Another question occurred some paragraphs down, and after his annotation he prepared a proper slice of bread. The tartness of seyonne berries prodding his taste buds, the words of the tome stirring his highly developed curiosity--oh, it was a feast fit for a scholar-king! And, Canas remembered, it actually was according to the court account of the fifth king of Etruria.
When he finished his very late breakfast, he placed his drained cup on top of the crumb-littered plate and took it over to the metal bucket next to the door. Lily had insisted that she would do the dishes. Considering that the only available water happened to be sealed in the snow, he could see the logic in her reasoning. She was always very logical when she told him why he couldn't help with the chores. A thought occurred to him at this: She takes very seriously the tenets of the master...err, mistress of the house and how to treat guests. Either that, or...
He didn't have an 'or'. Maybe he didn't need to have one. In the past, when someone was gracious enough to let him into their home, he never analyzed why. It paled to the knowledge he could be gathering from books. But Lily...well, she was a book in and of herself. She was a source of knowledge about anima, and that was enough to warrant a healthy respect for her. But her generosity seemed to have no boundaries, and that was very strange in a land as barren and unforgiving as Ilia.
Or perhaps it is /because she is an Ilian/? he asked himself as he opened the front door. It was snowing lightly, though the amount already on the ground suggested it had been heavier during the night. The wind blew, making him shiver and consider retreating back into the house, but every morning for the past week he had forced himself to take a short walk in order to acclimate himself to the weather. Growing up, his mother used to make him and his brothers stay outside all day when they complained too loudly about the cold, and since they were all still alive he supposed that it hadn't been quite that bad.
After all, the cold could freeze the body, but at least it left the mind intact.
He adjusted his monocle, even though there was no need, and stepped into the snow. After closing the door, he swiftly buried his hands deep into his sleeves, his arms forming a crude circle as chapped hands clutched the soft area on the underside of his forearms and tried to draw out as much of the warmth as possible. As he began his walk, he tried to keep comparisons between the chill and the brand of magic he practiced out of his mind. He was successful in the same way it was said Bramimond had been successful in controlling elder magic, which wasn't very much because Bramimond was said to be nothing more than a reflection, having lost its own identity in the trade for ultimate power.
Is that where the use of elder magic will lead me? Is that...an inevitability? Closing his eyes, Canas stopped, letting the snowflakes drift onto him and feeling the slow burn of each as they touched his face. It decimated the minds of my brothers, and yet I complied with Mother's wish. The thrill of knowledge is worth many sacrifices, but what is knowledge if I lack the facilities to comprehend and enjoy it?
And yet, I continue. Elder magic is a path to knowledge...in a way, becoming a scholar sealed my fate, even though my brothers did much more than simply subsist in those days...
A dull sound, punctuated by an inarticulate cry, snapped him from his brooding. In the distance, there was a figure. After he grudgingly pulled out his hands and wiped his monocle, the figure appeared to be that of a woman. When the woman kicked something dark in front of her, it started moving. In fact, it seemed to be growing proportionally in width and length, and it was with a start that Canas realized it was headed directly at him. Two large steps to the side allowed him to comfortably avoid the object; when it passed him he observed it to be a barrel of considerable weight, if the furrow it was leaving behind was any indication. The woman began approaching, and it was that milky jade green of her hair--though with all the snowflakes it now had the appearance of a certain type of weed common to Sacae, which he hated to admit that he hadn't known was toxic until he ate one--that tipped him off that it was Lily. He smiled and waved, a greeting she returned. "Good morning, Lily!" He pointed behind him, where the barrel had stopped when it collided with a small drift. "Morning chores?"
"What?" she called back, and he arched an eyebrow in response. She wasn't that far away. After a short jog she was standing before him, her wide eyes the perfect match that her hair wasn't at the moment. "Excuse me, but I was listening to the spirits."
That was a phrase she used constantly. Even with all the tomes detailing anima's usage of the nature spirits, he had thought of it as some sort of meditation until he met her. The other mages and sages he had the opportunity to meet cared more about studying the written word than communicating with nature. "I see." The fancy to ask her if they had said anything of interest struck him, and he had to push that thought away. This wasn't the time for a lecture on the principles of communing with the spirits, not when he was freezing. "I asked if you were completing your morning chores."
"Morning?" She smiled at him in the same way she always smiled just before she corrected him. He was starting to get used to it. "It's at least an hour past noon."
"Ah...I didn't realize." Perhaps he had spent more time with the picture book than he had thought. "Did the spirits inform you of that?" Ruefully, he wondered why the pull of curiosity was so strong that he would set himself up for a long discussion while his nerves were screaming at him that it was cold, he was cold, get inside!
She closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, they don't care about the time. They just like being listened to." He furrowed his brow at this, not because he didn't understand, but because that sounded more human than he would've thought nature spirits to be. That made him wonder about a theory he had read once, one about the communication between sages and spirits being little more than the anima user making a little too much of their own mind's babble. Of course, that little tidbit came from a highly contentious tome written by a long-dead druid, and personally such an opinion was unacceptable for serious consideration since the source was biased--
There was something on his cheek. After a moment, he realized it was Lily's hand, the touch of leather colder than the snowflakes. "Your eyes just glazed over," she informed him. She removed her hand and frowned at him. "You look so cold. Let's get you inside, and I'll start a nice fire and make lunch. I am so hungry, but with the coming storm I scarcely have a moment of rest..." She continued in this vein as she took hold of his arm and began leading him to the house.
As they passed by the barrel, he finally had the presence of mind to ask, "Err...what about your current chores?"
She paused, glancing around until she spotted the barrel. "Oh, that? Don't worry about it. It looks like I'll have to melt the snow around it if I want to get it into the storeroom before dark."
Canas smiled. Finally, something he could help her with. "I can assist you, if you like."
"No, no, please don't concern yourself about it," she replied. It appeared to him that she was flustered by his offer. "You're a guest, after all."
"But...even if I am a guest, I plan on staying here for quite a while. At least through the winter. One could say that, with such an extended stay, I will become something of a fixture at your home." He was starting to become flustered himself, seeing how her expression was starting to become blank at his entreaties. Valiantly, he continued to try. "That would, err, supersede my 'guest' status, I would think."
She was silent for a few moments before she smiled. "You're very kind, and I appreciate that, but this isn't a topic of discussion when it's already so cold. Look, you're even shivering now."
"Oh, I, err..." He was about to continue his protest--not against the shivering, that he couldn't deny--but she was taking off her gloves and tucking them somewhere inside the folds of her cloak and touching his face with both hands and--
Warm. Her hands were warm.
Her eyes were closed, her teeth gritting behind parted lips. Canas resisted the urge to sink into the Sight to see if she really was casting magic; the answer was obvious in her strained expression. It was as his mother had told him, that very thing that caused him to drop everything and return to the country he left years ago. The Albion line's inherited talent, an ability he had considered impossible.
The ability to memorize and recite spell incantations at will.
With a sharp gasp, she staggered back. He reached out and held her shoulders, steadying her. Her complexion was paler than usual, and it took a few minutes before she opened her eyes. "Ah...I haven't done that in a while..."
"You...you can cast without the spell tome?" The thought of anyone having such power, when even the legendary heroes had needed tomes to anchor them, was almost too much for him.
She swallowed, and to him it didn't look like a comfortable action to take. "Of course I need that..." She moved away from him and reached under her cloak, pulling out a Fire tome. "When I was very young I needed to hold it, but as the words become one with my soul I just need to have it near me."
"I...Forgive me, but..." There were thoughts flaring in his mind, questions and learned bits of information tumbling over and into themselves until he simply stopped and attempted to untangle them.
"Some other time. Please." She smiled at him, a pale imitation of her normal smiles. This he was almost as sorry to see as that other look. "Do you feel warmer now?"
"I..." He hadn't realized it at the time, stunned at the use of her talent as he was, but he did feel much warmer now. "Yes, yes I do. I...thank you."
"Good." Now her smile was as bright as ever. "Let's eat."
-0-
Hunched over an old table, its top stained with the alchemical doings of years past, Lily stared intently at the sheet of paper in front of her. The light from the small lantern on the table glimmered weakly, revealing the dark, desiccated leaves on the paper. Picking one up, she rolled it between her thumb and index finger and watched it twist and crumble into dark flecks. Her mouth twisted in consideration as she continued to test the consistency between her fingers long after most of the leaf dotted the paper. After sniffing at her fingers and wincing as a sharp, bitter stink bit into her sinuses, she nodded in a slow, deliberate manner. Not bad/, she thought, making sure the affected fingers stayed as far away from her mouth as possible. The idea of spending the next day--or more, by the sour potency of the smell--in the privy didn't appeal to her. /If Kelial gives me one more forlorn look whenever a lady invites him to dinner, I might scream. Only an Ilian can truly appreciate our style of cooking...ah, the horrors of being a foreigner and a bachelor...
The thought was interrupted by her mind's image of Canas. In it, he was sitting on her couch and reading a thick tome while a steaming cup of tea went unnoticed on the table. It was a fairly accurate picture of what she usually saw when she came home for lunch and dinner. /He's not a foreigner, but that's hard to believe. He shows how cold he is far too easily/.
Sighing, she deposited the rest of the leaves into a small vial, leaving it on the paper as a reminder. After blowing out the lantern, she stood still and waited for the room to come into focus, first in lines and then into vaguely defined shapes, before making her way out. She entered the sitting room, intent on grabbing some snow just outside the front door and melting it at the hearth to clean off her fingers, but she stopped when she noticed that her house guest was there and engrossed in one of her tomes. He was reading by the low light of the hearth, and it made her wonder if that wasn't how he'd ended up needing a monocle. Though, how he managed to ruin only one eye escaped her at the moment.
"Ah, Canas. What are you doing out here?" she asked, confused. She was used to seeing a light from the partly-opened door of her old room; as far as she knew, he only read in the sitting room because that was where she put the meals and tea.
"Oh, Lily." She noted how tired he sounded and grew even more confused. Putting the opened book cover-up on his lap, he looked at her, the lit hearth casting shadows that granted a sort of genteel eeriness to his features. "I, ah, couldn't seem to find a respite from the ache in my back."
Lily shook her head at this. "I told you that you didn't need to help me, didn't I?" But he just didn't listen/, she grumbled to herself. /It's like he uses his kindness to tunnel a way through a person.
"Yes, but--"
"It doesn't matter. Really." She yawned loudly, hiding the unseemly action behind a hand. "Please understand that I don't need you to pay me back with chores or money or anything of the like. Just appreciate the knowledge of my bloodline and I'll be happy."
As long as you continue to respect us like you did at my parents' graves, it's enough.
"Your bloodline..." She heard the odd timbre in his voice and frowned. "I would not want to keep you from your rest, but I must ask this: Do you know why your heritage possess such a talent like enhanced memorization of the magic chants?"
For a long moment, she stared at him in disbelief. Maybe she was more tired than she thought she was. "Canas...do you believe that memorization is a...an inherited talent?"
"Err...was I wrong?" If there had been more light, she imagined she would be able to see a flustered look on his face. She was getting very used to seeing it. Sighing again, she shook her head.
"We'll just say you aren't right and leave it at that for tonight." Barely registering the "oh, I see" that was his reply, she headed towards the front door. Wash her hands, go to bed, and continue the cycle of another day dealing with people who couldn't leave well enough alone...
She couldn't wait for the storms to hit.
-to be continued...-
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