into the woods

[spelleton]

There are stories told about who lives there, in the darkness of the woods that surround Subcon's various kingdoms, where even a brave knight would fear to tread. The desperate, the ghost-touched, the people who live on the edges.

And those who embrace that border between night and day, those who live and breathe magic; the witches. Those who offer strange magic and stranger things, but always for a price.

That's what everyone says, anyway. There must be some truth to it, surely?

Comments

[spelleton]

"Weird?" He blinks, taking a moment to look at him. "Your hair has changed a little, I suppose...?"

Ekkehardt's threshold for weird is significantly higher, as it turns out. Colour changes barely even register.

[subconmodo]

Avery waits, but nothing more comes. "And... that's normal?" he probes, one hand rolling in a lazy circle as he arches an eyebrow.

[spelleton]

"If you've had no such incidents before in your life, then it's strange. Otherwise, it's just something your hair is doing." He prods at his egg, finally starting to actually make progress on eating it.

"It's not my doing, if that's what you want to know. If I was going to change your hair colour, I'd ask first." Ekkehardt is very insistent on the idea of getting permission from people, something that applies to his teaching style too. "I suppose it might be a side-effect of something or other, but you'd have to test it to make sure of its origins."

[subconmodo]

Magic... Useful as it can be, Avery's starting to get the feeling it can be quite a pain in the ass, too. "Maybe I will. So, what, do I have to cut some of it and drop it into a potion or something?

[spelleton]

"That's one way of doing it, yes." Which isn't a very helpful answer. Fortunately, he seems to realise this.

"Another way is..." He pauses to eat another portion of his egg. "You might have noticed by now that magic from different sources feels different. Mine is different from yours, and the magic that exists in the forest is different from both of ours, and so on, and so forth. Everything carries a trace of the place it was born from, and magic is no exception."

He waves his fork vaguely. "If you concentrate on what you want to find the origins of, you can sense those traces."

[subconmodo]

"So... I just concentrate on the roots of my hair and wait for something magic to follow?" he asks without a hint of sarcasm. "Or is that too specific?" Maybe if he focuses on known sources of magic like the forest and Ekkehardt first to see if anything leads back to it...

[spelleton]

"More or less. You can remove some of the affected hair and use that, to make it easier. When something is cut off from the whole, it's easier to discern its individual properties, and detecting what has touched an object is no different."

He just sort of waves his fork a bit absently as he talks.

[subconmodo]

His eyebrows raise slightly. "Really? Huh. I guess that makes sense, but I thought it would be easier to trace it to its source while it's still attached. I guess that would be more helpful for, uh..." His fork hovers in the air, his face scrunched up as he tries to think on how he wants to put it. In the end, he focuses on gardening, even though he doesn't know much about that subject either (mostly through conversations with an old friend he fell out of contact with long ago). "You know, when you're trying to make sure a plant doesn't die, but you don't know how to take care of it."

[spelleton]

"That's more or less the case, yes. It's a good analogy." He taps his fork against the plate as he thinks, just for a moment.

"Would you like me to help you get a feel for it? Discerning things like this? It shouldn't take too long."

[subconmodo]

The frown washes away in an instant. "Absolutely. This sounds like one of the basics, anyway, so--" he cuts himself off, holding up a hand. "Wait! Wait, no. You mentioned travel opportunities. That first! Unless this leads into that."

No way in hell is he going to get conned out of traveling in style!

[spelleton]

"Since you're so eager, we'd better get started on getting you used to your cape first. Study can come later."

He pauses, considering what to say next, and then adds, "I'd like to see you comfortable with using your cape before we move onto flight, in any case."

[subconmodo]

He leans forward, shirt very nearly dipping into the remnants of his egg yolk. "Flying?!" he exclaims eagerly. "I get to fly too?!"

[spelleton]

"Naturally," he says, like it's the most simple thing in the world to accomplish, just a fact of life. He seems pleased by Avery's enthusiasm. "While methods vary from witch to witch, flying is by far the most convenient way to travel.

But it can often be dangerous, especially when you're learning," he continues, "so using the cape to get out of situations quickly comes first."

[subconmodo]

He's unable to hide the expression of disappointment that flashes across his face for a brief moment, but he guesses he understands. "I'm not going to lose an arm or anything if I do the cape thing wrong, am I?"

[spelleton]

He waves a hand. "Worry not. The worst you'll get is an undignified landing." He seems a bit amused at Avery's momentary disappointment, though.

"Dreamed of flying, have you?"

[subconmodo]

"Who wouldn't?" He makes a grand gesture with his fork, only to do a double-take at his hand and set it back down on top of his empty plate.

"It's one thing to see it from the ground, but getting to see the night sky up close? Anyone would be jealous."

[spelleton]

"Most people prefer the sun, not the moon." Though he supposes that's not too out of place, for this strange prince (and he still thinks of him as the prince, sometimes. It's too early yet for him to let go of such a thing).

"You have a passion for such things, do you? I'll keep that in mind." His tone is a little mysterious, like he's just thought of something that he's keeping to himself.

[subconmodo]

"What's wrong with having an interest in the stars?" Avery asks with a shrug. "You know, some people think that they're a bunch of giant balls of flammable gas. I don't know if I believe it myself, but it's kind of neat if true!"

[spelleton]

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with it. The interest is unusual, certainly, but being someone with unusual interests is more entertaining, I think." He says, as someone with similarly odd interests, at least for a kingdom that lives and thrives in the sun.

"What an interesting theory. I wonder if you'll be able to prove it true, someday?" Anything is possible with magic, or research. Or a mix of the two.