On the Pond (Joel, Open)

[neriumoleander]

About a half mile from Grimhilde Manor, beyond the land and in a thicket of overgrown trees, there lies a deep pond. It teems with life. Shimmers with magic and the surface is particularly exquisite under the full moon. It has been Nerium's place, since she was a child. Lonely and wandering her woods, she found the fish and frogs there not to be potion ingredients, but charming companions. Today there is another world there. Ruled by a family of mischievous water nymphs borne of a spell of Nerium's long ago. Magic breeds magic and soon the pond was home to grindylows, ashrays, bunyip, and kappas - even miniature hippocamps. They regard Nerium as a goddess. For her, they are her closest friends - along with the ravens and other creatures of the manor. 



She often floats a canoe to the center to think or reflect on a new spell. Today she is there with a book in hand, and several others resting at the floor of the canoe. She is a bookseller now, during Rose's occasional stints at The Quill, and she must make her role believable. So she's gathered an assortment of books, those highly recommended and sought after. Others considered classics. 

Nerium is unsure how she feels about this boy wizard. He who survived a curse from the the great dark lord. 

"It is in poor taste to attack a child. But his wrong is seeking power for purely selfish gain. One will always be corrupted by the great dark forces if they are not dealt with accordingly. Sacrifice and worship." The water nymphs lean against the side of her boat, ever a captive audience. "Though this so-called hero is insufferable. Who cares of sport when there is magic to learn? Certainly all his brilliance comes from his female friend."

Perhaps Nerium likes the bushy-haired girl. Even if she was born of humans. Her power is the same.  

Comments

[neriumoleander]

Nerium feels his yearning. The lure of magic at such great power scratching at his skin. And perhaps something else along with it.

She waves her hands above them, and the sky goes pitch black, stars brighter and more plentiful than can typically be seen on even the clearest nights. It is a localized spell, but it is effective nonetheless.

"It is my worship. It is the power I - my family - has sworn our magic to since days of olde.

Before there was this world, before there was this universe, all of existence was darkness, and in the darkness there was a great chaos that is the source of all power. From that chaos came the universe, and the universe the world. The oldest powers of dark and chaos manifested themselves into gods and goddesses, demons and deities. They have long since been forgotten by most. Feared by those who have not. But it is to them that my family gives worship and sacrifice, in exchange for the secrets of their art. In knowing that without the chaos and dark so feared by most, all would be gone."

It is a story she has been told since she was a young girl. Which she has sworn her life to. Demons and goddesses and deities she has sown herself to, who have taken so much of her. It is the Grimhilde way.

[just_another]

It's not the answer Joel expects and he tips his head back, looking at the sky above them, marvelling at the brightness of the stars. That's not a sky one sees in Siren Cove on any regular night, he knows she's done it, but it's beautiful and bright and he watches it for a long moment as he listens to her speak. It's not the answer he expects because it doesn't really sound as dark as he'd imagined. That the world was -- and still is, he thinks -- made of chaos is no secret. Everything has to start somewhere, even the magic he has, and while he likes to believe the things he and his family are capable of come from something other than a demon, he still knows they come from something old. Something long forgotten by most people.

So it's not the answer he expects at all and he looks over at her, a faint smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

"You're just aware of it," he says, then shakes his head, because it doesn't sound right. "I mean... it's there. For all of us. Most witches just don't think of where it comes from, but you know." He can feel it when his powers try to get the better of him, the crackle of energy in his fingers, the way it jumps toward Spencer when he's near. It's bigger than he'll ever be, bigger and older, and Joel is comfortable with that. He wonders how many witches are.

[neriumoleander]

"I am more than just aware. I know it. I touch it. I feel it on me at all times. Most witches have forgotten the roots of their power in favor of earth magic and simpler things. Less complicated. Rooted in the light."

She nods at Joel then, again noting the shadow upon him. The thing within that she cannot place a finger upon.

"And you. You have not yet told me why it is you sought me out. A locater spell is not done lightly, even without blood."

[just_another]

"No, that's what I mean. You know it and the rest of us... we take for granted what we're given. We don't think about where it comes from." Although he's been doing more of that lately, considering where his powers are from and why some of them are so unlike those of his parents. It shouldn't matter, but it does. Or maybe it should matter, maybe that's what Nerium is saying. If he understood it better, maybe it wouldn't so often surprise him.

At her question, though, he shakes his head, smiling. "Sometimes people in this town... well, they're not always very accepting of things they think of as different." He means her, but he means himself, too, an outsider, a Canadian, someone displaced from his home and sent here to hide. He means Spencer, the way people still treat him, the names some people call him, the vandalism. He means that he understands in a way.

"I thought maybe... I thought... It's a social call," he says, looking at her. "I don't agree with most of what you said the other night, but I like you all the same."