neriumoleander: (Default)
[personal profile] neriumoleander
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.

And a woman. Just a woman. Whose magic has been sacrificed to a higher calling and lives within her no more.  

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)

Date: 2015-05-20 01:21 pm (UTC)
do_what_thou_wilt: (Default)
From: [personal profile] do_what_thou_wilt
Auryn's had a lot of thinking to do. Since the spell broke, he's having to confront the reality of it - how much will was exerted over the agency and choices of others, what control they lost over its intent -- and more, how it ended. He's never been afraid of violence, of protest, but he's reactionary. He'd expected push back against their magic, had welcomed it, the unveiling of who was most afraid of this power. He hadn't expected a pre-emptive strike, against another witch of all things.

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?"

Date: 2015-05-21 01:17 pm (UTC)
do_what_thou_wilt: (Default)
From: [personal profile] do_what_thou_wilt
He'd thought about it - thought about her, more than once in the time spent collecting his thoughts. He'd been concerned for her safety, and he'd had so many uncertainties, and many times he'd nearly gone out in search of her. But maybe it was for the best: finding himself before he looked for her.

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?"

Date: 2015-05-25 02:08 am (UTC)
do_what_thou_wilt: (Default)
From: [personal profile] do_what_thou_wilt

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.

Date: 2015-06-02 09:39 pm (UTC)
do_what_thou_wilt: (Default)
From: [personal profile] do_what_thou_wilt

"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.”

Profile

neriumoleander: (Default)
neriumoleander

May 2015

S M T W T F S
     12
3456789
10111213141516
17 181920 212223
24252627282930
31      

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 8th, 2025 11:09 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios