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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: 2015-05-28 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.”