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The metal pierces the dragon's chest, and through it, as the great beast crashes to the ground, its heart. The world quakes as the spell dies. Memories and realities ripple outwards in great waves of voluminous purple and sparks, though only the most sensitive to magic would see its traces.
There is no time. Nerium apparates to the dragon's side in an instance, but the life has already gone. All is shattered. Her work, her dreams, the gift of magic she has brought upon all. But there is no time to mourn. No time to think of consequences. Traces of the dragon still burn, the spell is still alive within the wood.
With a rush of whisper and prayer, Nerium closes her eyes and steps within the burning ash that was once a creature of magic. Her words offer sacrifice to the goddesses and to the great deities of old.
The final gust of wind rushes around her, through her, reaches inside of Nerium and pulls her apart. Something like a soul disperses through the woods, resting upon every tree, every trace of ground, every root and flower and animal until they are one. Nerium's magic leaves a silvery sheen upon all it touches. The quickly unraveling spell is repelled upon its boundaries and what remains is an Enchanted Forest, as wild and alive with magic and fantasy as Nerium's dreams.
She stands there frozen for quite some time. Unsure now where the woods end and she begins. And when the final traces of magic finally leave her, Nerium collapses.
The next several days are difficult. Even the most mundane tasks prove difficult without her innate skills. Steps heavy without levitation, candle flames exhaustively numerous to light. She still has her potions - her books and knowledge - but all that require a higher level of innate power are lost to her.
It is no matter. She has brought magic back into the world. True, wild magic. When she walks into her wood, she is greeted by unicorns. The hooves of centaurs echo wild in the distance and the water nymphs which once lived only in her pond now inhabit all the waters of the wood.
Even if only a pocket, pure magic rests now in this world once more. And if this be her legacy, Nerium Oleander Grimhilde, Mother of Magic - it is all worth it.
(ooc: Find Nerium in the woods or use this to address your character's aftermath of the spell)
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Date: 2015-05-20 01:21 pm (UTC)He understands where it came from. But he's a little angry, too, at the ease at which she - they - could have killed someone who wasn't strictly their enemy but now undoubtedly is. He can feel the anger in the town and he's not sure what comes next.
It doesn't sit well with him; makes him question too many things, and he's found himself avoiding talking to anyone while he sorts out feelings he had thought were set in stone. He's more grateful now, than ever, for the little house he's made himself, away and warded in a forest that is now more magical for what she's given up.
That, at least, he can't help but hold in regard, awe, her lack of selfpreservation to preserve the magic in these woods.
It's thinking about things, letting himself get lost, that he sees her, and his discomfort fades in the face of how exhausted she looks. "Nerium?"
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Date: 2015-05-20 04:34 pm (UTC)It takes her some time to find him. The forest looks anew, even if it is now almost a part of herself, and without her tracking spells, locating something within is quite a bit more difficult than she's had to contend with.
For days, maybe longer, she has maintained only a connection with the woods, ensuring the magic is secure, getting to know the creatures within, gathering precious tomes from the Manor and herbs and vegetables from the gardens. She's honestly quite uncertain if she's even slept. For a time, she felt transcendent. And she still does, here amongst the magic she's brought back to this world, bound with the core of her very existence. But undeniably, this life without her own innate powers has begun to wear at her. It is an odd thing to feel entirely transcendent while also vulnerable in a way never before felt.
And so one morning she sets off to find Auryn. They'd not seen one another since the spell. She thought for certain he would try to find her but perhaps her did not know. The sun is high by the time she finds him.
"Auryn." Nerium's brow is wet from the heat of the sun and she wipes it with a soft handkerchief. "I am glad to find you. I thought you might have come looking for me?" But thinking is different than knowing, and she no longer can read the lives and actions of others in the paths they weave.
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Date: 2015-05-21 01:17 pm (UTC)Still, there's a hopefulness in her tone that makes him feel guilty he didn't do it sooner. "I thought I might, too." He's still learning the newness of these woods, can feel the power she's put into them. They're still woods: he can trace them by sun and the tilt of plants, the side of tree moss grows on, the trails of animals. But there's something effervescent about them, and unknowable.
"The way it all ended, the dragon," he admits, "I wasn't ready for it." It's an apology, as much as she's likely to get for him not coming after her sooner. "I don't know what decisions were right."
He shakes it off and holds out a hand to her, palm open. "I don't live far from here. It's no castle, but -- you could come and get a drink?"
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Date: 2015-05-21 09:32 pm (UTC)She stands there, watching him, observing him with a slight tilt of her head, finding no threads or traces around him to read his thoughts, his actions, the futures and pasts they connect to. He stands, as does she. And that is all there is.
"There simply is, was. We returned true magic to this world. I ensured its survival."
Her presence in the woods, pale and slightly wide-eyed, is reminiscent of a young doe. Taking in all around her as if it is brand new, but with a fragility that seems she might flee at the slightest upset.
But Nerium doesn't know this, as she hesitantly observes his palm. After a few moments she holds out a tentative palm and places it in his, still staring at their hands, uncertain as to what she is doing. "Yes, I believe that may be nice."
She longs for a brewed tea of her exotic herbs and fruits. But the manor is dangerous for those not most excelled in magiks - even to Nerium. She needs to call upon Leslie Parker. He can seal it. Ensure it is safe and she will find... somewhere else. A nice stone cottage. Perhaps she can entice him to build it in exchange for the return of his soul part. But for now... Nerium thinks Auryn's home might be a welcome reprieve.
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Date: 2015-05-25 02:08 am (UTC)He restrains a bristle when she tells him what his problem is. "I don't mean good or evil." He shakes his head slightly. "Magic doesn't exist one without the other, I know well enough to know that." He gives her an eyebrow raise at her pedantic tone. "But this magic you sacrificed so much for -- you made that decision because it was right to you. Right, in the heart of you." He touches his chest. There are things that are innate.
"Davin --" He shakes his head. "He hasn't grown into his power, he cares too much about that Thornton to use it the way it deserves, but he's trusted me before. Our dragon would have killed him and now --." And now she's lost her power, too, and for what? To pre-emptively destroy another witch that could easily have been brought to realize how dangerous humans are? And now is more powerful than Nerium and counts her as an enemy. There's nothing about having the dragon strike first that he feels like defending, and even less about the way winds have turned now.
He's angry about her decision making, but he can't bring himself to be anything but resigned. She's right. There is and was. It's in the past and now they must deal with what's to come. He looks at the ground, back up at her, and really looks, taking her in.
She looks fragile, or new somehow, and he thinks, it's not because of lack of experience; it's because of lack of exposure. The world which he has weathered and built a shell against -- emotionally, toward those who because of his magic or poverty, his outsider status or accent or any manner of things, but also physically -- is something she has always had magical barriers to protect her from. Those are gone now and he finds himself feeling protective, even as he's frustrated.
He looks at their hands when she takes his. There's something a little awkward and new about the way she reaches for him, too, like she's never held hands before. Maybe she hasn't. There's a trust to that. "Now, it's over. Come on." He tugs her hand a little, with a small smile, turning to lead her back towards his home.
Auryn finds himself walking beside her instead of leading, and fills a suddenly pregnant quiet with occasional pointing out tricky spots in the path, brisk comments on little things that seem to have changed in the wood, new growth from the spring and altogether new signs of wild magic. The wards around the clearing are still perfectly designed to lead someone astray, and Nerium would perhaps be caught in them now that she's given her magic to the wood, but her hand in his, he steps through and the cottage makes itself clear, small and spiraling, the tree's new growth growing around the upper level it supports.
Iron over the door, flowers and herbs drying in the kitchen, water filter straining rain: everything built with his hands. He heads up the few steps ahead of her to unlock the door with a touch and open it for her. "Home sweet home," he jokes dryly, aware of what must look small and spare to her, though it is his home as much as anything ever really has been.
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Date: 2015-05-28 02:48 am (UTC)"You are upset?" Her head tilts to the side, confused, feeling a sense of rawness in response to his words she does not quite understand in herself. "I did as I needed to protect mine creation, as any mother would her child who is threatened. I am truly sorry if your friend was hurt but I make no apology for my action." Nerium is uncertain truly why she is even apologizing for harming his friend. She feels no need, no wrong done. But Auryn was a part of this. Perhaps something she's nearly considered something of a friend, and with that comes a feeling of accountability she is unused to. And this perceived connection, whatever it may be, is what allows her to take his hand, however odd and full of hesitation she may be. It is nice, maybe. This new existence has left her uncertain, unsteady, and he brings some leveling to that.
As they travel, various creatures of the forest flock to her. Fireflies and fairies fly around her to light the path. Nerium does not call them forth. She needs not. She is a part of them now and they come when need is sensed. Still, Auryn's guidance in the wood is well appreciated and there are still many a paths she needs learn.
His home is charming. Cozy. And she smiles as she enters, envisioning something much like this for herself now. "It is nice." The dried herbs and flowers remind her too of home. "I think I should like something like this for myself."
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Date: 2015-06-02 09:39 pm (UTC)"It's not about friends, Nerium," he says, and his tone is a little frustrated but mostly reasoning. He's a little unused to trusting anyone enough to call them friend, to be frank, though Davin's had no reason to be as kind to him as he has been, and perhaps he's thinking of that. But this is a war. It's about allies. They need to convince others of their perspective, not to take arms against their own kind. They're not an revolution as they are. They're scarcely enough to call on three. "Davin's powerful. Now his fear will make him a weapon for those who would destroy -- this." He gestures to her forest, beautiful and free, beyond even their control. "One forged in dragon flame."
"It's not just your creation," he reminds her quietly. "I shed my blood for it and I would shed more. But that means I bear responsibility for it just as you do. You'd do anything to protect your child and I understand that better than you know. But I want to make sure it grows up."
Her smile when they enter his home is comforting: he'd been expecting at least a little judgement. "You like it? I built it myself and I haven't regretted it yet." He pours her some water and glances at her, smiling, handing her the cold water. "It’s no castle, but I could build something similar for you, with a little time." He looks around. “Maybe a little fancier.”