[Mistral Woods] Seeds & Spirits

[Elowen]

Notes for reviewer

In this thread, I am combining the following:

1. Planting the seeds of Bloodleaf tree - secrets to be discovered regarding the seed (Pegasus to be informed once discoveries are made)
2. Working to further establish connection between Anak of Intrigue and Elowen as discussed with Pig here and tracked here

Human nature had always confused Elowen but even more so these trials. There were many questions going through her head ever since she had it confirmed that the blue skinned man was back. These questions only multiplied, grew in intensity. Just two trials prior two sell swords who were with the blue skinned man paid her a visit at her door. At night. Trying to get in. The thought of that still made her heart beat fast, her throat go dry and her body tense. The fear that was always present in her body, now locked her inside her home.

Yester-trial, the girl just about managed to fix the chicken pen before she rushed back inside. There were other tasks she ought to do out there like taking care of the vegetable patch, scoping the damage to the herb beds,... But she could not do it. Not with so much open space around her and no protection to speak off. Although

Ark

and even

Pea

had proved to be protective over her - could they truly save her when push came to shove? The girl doubted it. No. She could not rely on these two. Furthermore, she cared for the pup and the bird too much to let them be in the striking line. She was now convinced that she had to learn how to protect herself. That was the only way.

She looked at

the knife

that laid on the side of the worktable. No one had come to claim it and no one probably ever would. The young apothecary did not know who left this item in the basket or why they did so, but she was thankful for it. It was a fine harvesting tool. But she also saw a good potential in it for self-defence. If only she knew how to use it in such a way.

Elowen reached for the knife and pulled it out of its sheath. The blade was pointed, straight on one side and serrated on the other. It was also incredibly sharp. The idea of using it as a weapon turned her stomach a little. She couldn't imagine using this to stab someone, or slash at them. Heck, even the chickens in the pen were more likely to die of old age than ending up in her soup. But what choice did she have? Circumstances were pushing her. She was young but she was not all that naive. At least not anymore.

And there was only one person she could think of who could help her. He was the only regular visitor who came to her these trials without any needs or requests. In his words, it was the companionship and because she reminded him of himself at that age. A small smile settled on her lips. She was still unsure how to feel about that twist in her life, that promise of friendship or mentorship that hung in the air since their last meeting. She tried not to expect much at all, but she hoped regardless.

Laying the knife down again, Elowen felt a little bit better. She looked over what she collected yester-trial from the donation basket set up by a stranger on the edge of the path that led from the shack to the village. Again, she did not know who did it but she started to have an inkling as to why they had done it.

Spirits... Her mouth twisted somewhat and a frown gripped her brows. Why do they think I am connected to them? People seemed to believe many things but this one confused her. She had never had anything to do with spirits or ghosts. She had never even met any (as far as she was aware). Still people came and placed items in that basket like they did with the offerings placed on the altars that dotted the Mistral Woods. It was not worship they were engaging in, Elowen thought. She opted to extrapolate from what she knew of the villagers and their way of life. They placed offerings on the altars to appease the forest to keep them safe during their ventures between the trees. Could the villagers be placing all these plants and items in the basket for the same reason?

But what protection could Elowen offer if she could hardly protect herself and spirits were as far removed from her as she was from the world?

Up until recently she believed she could protect the Woods. But that also turned out to be false. Things in her life suddenly seemed to be set up for failure on all the possible fronts. And that's why she started to have the need to cling to hope and things that she knew.

She leaned into the tension in her muscles, closed her eyes and tightened every cord lining her skeleton til she was shaking. She held her breath, shut her eyes so tight that she got the silverish sparkles going off on the back of her eyelids. She stood like that for a while until the lack of air burned in her nostrils and the fire in her chest roared. Then she released, welcoming the consuming heat that burned away a little bit of that nervous energy that took residence inside her body.

The girl reached for a small jute pouch tied with a string that was lying on top of the worktable among the few other 'donations' that she collected the trial before. Some were local herbs. Others were Rharnian but from places that Elowen would have to travel to if she wanted to gather them. And then there was this little pouch.

She ran it between her fingers. There was something solid inside it. The young apothecary loosened the string and tipped the opening. She raised her eyebrows when she saw five white, oblong but rather angular, bone-shard-like bits that fell onto the worktable. They were not longer nor wider than her pinkie.

The initial surprise transformed into intrigue. Were these really bones? Was this a threat? A message? Unbeknownst to Elowen, a shadow had taken residence in her shack over the past many trials, attracted by the intrigue placed on the girl by her circumstance. That formless shadow was now waddling closer.

Ignorant, the young apothecary lifted one of the shards up. The waddling shadow came to a stop by the remaining four, almost tilting as though inspecting them too. The girl ran her fingers over the piece in her hands. It was smooth all over, even the edges, which was unusual for a bone shard unless it had already been sanded down. But Elowen was no jewellery maker, nor any kind of crafts person to know any more about such things. She knew of only one way how to confirm that this was a bone.

She placed the piece back on the table and reached for a pestle. Back when Meira was still alive and they would have meat and bones, the old woman would then split the bones to get to the red-purple-ish substance inside them. Elowen always thought it was obscene so she never engaged in it and Meira never pressed her. But that was the only way Elowen knew of how to split bones.

She brought the pestle down on the shard. The four loose pieces jumped and so seemed the anak as well. It was only a thud that Elowen heard, no crack like she was expecting. When she lifted the heavy tool, the shard wasn't split in two.

The anak waddled over to Elowen's hand and lightly touched it as though it was leaning on it and over it. The girl felt a surge of intense need to understand, a curiosity that was already there but now it was upped a few notches. She took the shard and lifted it to her eyes against the light of the trial. The anak was holding onto that hand and floated up with the motion.

It's flatter and... There were cracks.

This was not a bone. A spark of understanding illuminated her face.

"It's a seed." And an unusual one at that. The girl had seen many seeds in her life from various plants native to Rharne, but never this one. She searched her memory and her knowledge for any recollection of hearing of such a thing as she was holding. And the anak had settled on top of her hand.

"It looks like it could be a tree," the girl murmured to herself seeing how the white shell was brighter against the light of the trial with a darker middle. It looked much like a seed of a maple tree but disguised as a bone fragment.

The girl then pulled on the edges of one of the cracks to pull the protective coat away from the supposed seed inside. What she saw was even more unusual.

There was a seed in there but it was dark red, like the deepest cherry she had ever seen, veined in white which seemed to knot into a tubulous miniature offshoot.

Elowen realized that she had just killed a sapling in making. This seed had somehow germinated but it did not break the shell yet. But perhaps that could mean that the other ones...

She placed the dissected seed on the side and reached for the others when she caught a movement beyond the window.

Even before she knew exactly what she was looking at, her heart was hammering in her chest. Her mouth ran dry.

There were people on the edge of the forest where the path led to her shack.

[Elowen]

There were three of them. Two she recognized as being Mistral residents. One she did not. They were looking down at the basket. Then one of the villagers knelt down, retrieved something from a sack they had with them and laid it in there.

Her heart skipped a beat. She had never seen the donation with her own eyes and in her mind it was still classified as more a mystery than a fact. Well, that was over now. There were actual people she knew who came to lay gifts for her for reasons that made no sense.

As though the stranger in their midst had a sixth sense, they looked up towards the shack.

Elowen stumbled backwards into the gloom of her abode whilst still being able to see the trio. Now the person who looked at the shack was tapping eagerly on the others arms, gesticulating towards her home.

Air caught in her throat. She was too slow. They had seen her.

Ark picked up on the change in Elowen's behaviour and came to her side, nudging his nose at her hand. She had come to rely on him for emotional support at least and her hand rested on his head as she watched the silent but heated conversation play out on the other side of the window.

They are not the sells swords, Elowen told herself. And though that took the edge off a little bit, it did not shift the ache in her chest, nor did it quench the heat in her body.

Somehow the blob of a shadow that hung onto her hand earlier, managed to stay attached and it had now climbed up to her shoulder. There it stayed motionless for a moment, before it touched the girl's cheek.

But what are they doing here anyway? And why bring a stranger? She found herself wondering. Clearly, they were not coming inside to ask her for a remedy. That much was clear based on how the villagers in turn shook their heads when the stranger pointed at the shack. They didn't need her help. At least, not the one she could provide. They were asking for something she had no power over.

For some reason, that upset her. She curled her fingers into tight fists. She was an apothecary, a person of herbs and healing. She was not a rarity to be stared upon, nor a connection between the land of the living and that of spirits. Why were they using her like so? Why were they entertaining such absurdity?

The anak stroked her cheek and the girl was filled with a sudden urge to march out and question the three. In a sudden wave of anger and resistance, Elowen wanted to get answers out of them for everything that had been happening around her and to her before she would chase them away from her home, re-establish the peace that had been taken from her so suddenly. And of course it was easier to be brave when there was no danger.

Still, she did not burst out of the shack as much as her body seemed to have wanted to. Instead, she stepped closer to the worktable whilst still trying to stay in the shadows of her home. She didn't have to worry about being spotted though. The three visitors were still in a discussion, though much calmer one at that point.

The young apothecary retrieved her harvesting knife, sheathed it and slid it into her belt. Like so armed with Ark at her side (who had grown since she had adopted him and looked more mature and in a way imposing next to her petite frame), the girl moved to the door.

There she stopped and fought herself. Part of her wanted to march out, do everything that she felt entitled to doing, let out the steam of stress and anxiety at unsuspecting audience. The other part struggled oh so much to take that step. She was fearful. She was not a confrontational person. She never had been. She was a servant to other's needs, to the world around her. She felt there was very little power in her to exercise on her life.

Still, her hand rested on the door handle. She hoped that when she would get the courage to open the door, the three would be gone.

But then... Just ask.

And the anak leaned away from Elowen's ear, before swaying back and forward as though its motion could make the girl take the step it wanted her to take.

Eventually, she did take it.

At first, Elowen cracked the door open and felt the air coming in, heard the words of the conversation stop. They were still there and now they knew for sure that she was here too. There was no turning back.

So the young apothecary opened the door the rest of the way, enough that she stepped just beyond the threshold and Ark's black form materialized just in the shadows behind her.

The villagers, who usually regarded her with sideway glances and minimal interaction, seemed to embrace that isolation even more as they immediately looked away and shifted in their spots. Unlike the stranger who squared towards her, staring. The girl saw all that since her gaze rolled across their midsections before it landed close to their feet.

Her face was pulled tight despite her trying to be neutral.

And the silence stretched.

Until one of the villagers called out. "For you," she said, pointing down. "For the spirits to beg favour."

This time, Elowen frowned without restraint.

"Do you really know the spirit of fortune?" The stranger then called out.

The girl did not answer.

"Do you know where it hides its treasure?"

No response.

"Does she know what I'm saying?" The stranger turned to the others, a hint of irritation in their voice.

"Far as we know, she speaks Gernevoir."

The anak shifted, tapping on the side of the girl's face as though to remind her of why she was outside.

"Why do you think there are spirits here?" Elowen called out. She wanted to know. She needed to know. The thought that the villagers suddenly embraced such a ridiculous idea was coming as a lightning from a clear sky (which, with it being Rharne, maybe wasn't so unusual actually).

Either way, all three looked at her with raised eyebrows.

The fifteen-arc-old was forced into Common by the nature of Meira's departure with Vri. She had to improve the language and somehow, it was coming to her easier than she would have thought. But no one truly knew about her progress because no one really cared about what the mysterious girl living in the shack in the woods was up to not what she had to say.

"They say," the stranger started and nudged their head towards the two villagers but really meaning the whole of Mistral. "They say that you were raised by spirits. That they come to you and you speak with them."

The anak on her shoulder seemed to expand and contract whilst the frown on Elowen's face only deepened.

"Were you really raised by them?"

The girl's body stiffened. Her origins. That's what drove this nonsense. But her origins were as shrouded in the unknown as this whole situation.

A mix of memories burned into her mind flashed before her eyes. The fire. The smell of burning meat. Meira on the pyre. Her father consumed by the nickles.

The Underchildren.

The anak shifted and seemed to now divert its attention to Elowen as though something far greater had come up to catch its attention. Perhaps it could not read the girl's mind, but it could sense the underlying emotions - the fear, the anger but also the curiosity. The intense need to know and understand what had happened all those arcs ago. Why it happened. What did it mean to Elowen?

"So what?! Is any of it true?" The stranger demanded, impatient, as though they had a right to the answer and Elowen had to comply with their request.

It felt wrong in her body to be subjected to such treatment. It felt bad to Ark too who now stepped out of the shack and positioned himself somewhat in front of Elowen. He didn't look kindly on the visitor. His ears were perked up, his body firmly planted in the ground. He was a hair stroke away from growling.

The villagers tensed. "It's best we go."

"This proves nothing," the stranger retorted to the villager. "Why don't you answer?!" They called out again, louder as though the volume could help them reach their goal.

The fire in the girl flaired. It boiled right under her skin in a way she had not felt before. She almost wanted to give in, feeling as though that was the way to burn off all those pent up emotions. Her eyes darkened. She took a few steps forward and so did Ark whose lips did not pull back just yet, but his head did lower. She had this urge to scream, to burst. The heat under her skin was searing.

Yet, the girl took in a shaking breath. As riled up as she was, part of her was also aware that the villagers were not to blame. It was the stranger. And she should not waste her time and energy on someone who did not come to her for assistance. The breathing did little to calm her, but it kept her from exploding.

"I do not owe you an answer," she said eventually, feeling certain sense of power in drawing a hypothetical line, a boundary of sorts, that had always been present, but probably not clear enough for her or the world around her. She owed nothing to no one. At least not there and then.

If spirits did indeed hang around the shack and Elowen, something she doubted but couldn't deny nor admit, then she felt the closest to Meira in that moment than ever before. Putting her foot down, owning herself and her space with all its mysteries and uncertainties. This was her home, her safe haven. This is exactly what Meira would had done. She was sure of it. That person had no right to come and invade it with their demands that had nothing to do with who she was.

No one moved, nor spoke for a long moment until one of the villagers finally called the shots. "I'm leaving. There is work that needs to get done." They purposefully avoided looking at Elowen or even in her direction. The other villager nodded and muttered some response the girl did not hear.

"No. Not yet," the stranger countered. "I came here to seek the spirit of fortune. To speak with the girl who supposedly knows it. I am not leaving until---"

"Well, then, you are welcome to make your own way back," the other interrupted. Then the two villagers turned around and started leaving.

Mistral had been dark and ominous for many trials now. The villagers noticed it and no one knew it better than Elowen herself. It was no longer a question, it was a fact that the woods weren't welcoming at that time. The shadows were deep between its trees. The whispers of the branches threatening.

"Have you laid down an offering for the woods?" The young girl asked the stranger.

They tried to hide it, but their face tensed before a frown took over. Then they turned and walked hastily to catch up with the others.

[Elowen]

She watched their backs even as the stranger turned around once and their eyes briefly met. They quickened their step and oddly, Elowen found that satisfying. Yet, at some point, the further they went, the weaker her connection to the moment became. Then the air started pressing against her skin and the intense feelings of anger and irritation began to wear off.

Elowen reached down to Ark. She scratched him between his ears and murmured a compliment and a thank you. The pup seemed to take it as a sign that things have returned back to normal and he went on to sniff around the front garden. The young apothecary watched him and at the same time, she was forced to see the damage that was still present around. She should really do something about that. But her back was stiff and her body so warm. She moved her shoulders but it did not help.

Frowning, the girl returned to the shack, leaving the door open so that Ark could come and go and Pea had free access to the outside too. She walked across the single room and opened the window at the end of her abode, thereby creating a passageway for air to flow through. That seemed to have helped. As she breathed a sigh of relief, her gaze landed back on the bone-shard-like seeds. She returned to her work station.

She wondered about those tree seeds that looked like a bloodied organ hidden in a bone shard shell. How grotesque. But fascinating also. She placed the remaining four seeds in her palm, leaving their dissected sibling on the table.

Where did they come from? What land and plant could produce such odd seedlings?

Who could have done that to me? Elowen found herself wondering and her throat tightened. She never knew her origins. Meira never spoke about them and the girl never asked. She always thought she was as human as the next person despite Meira's insistence that unlike other people, she had to wear a headscarf. Elowen now had a strong inkling that such requirement was in place to hide a part of the girl on purpose. Now she knew, she was not human. And Meira must have known also. Why did she keep it a secret then?

Because she was an experiment. According to a vision of her dead father. And perhaps she was dangerous. Unpredictable. That would explain some of Meira's reaction throughout the girl's childhood, especially that one not-so-veiled warning.

An experiment... There were so many questions tagged onto that. Who were the Underchildren? Why were they important? What was the plan for them? And...how many were there?

Her fingers wrapped around the little bundles of potential life. They could be successful and sprout, live and grow. Or they might die.

There was so much in Elowen's life that had happened in a very short space of time. Meira's death unlocked the door to the world that the girl was always spying on through the keyhole. But with the lock loose and the key gone, the world did not ask permission to enter, it barged in and took its residence in her life. And she did not feel ready for such kind of invasion. She was not ready for it.

Creeksong. A father with fire in his veins. Underchildren. Blue skinned man searching for Mistral's mysteries. Spirits she was supposedly in contact with. All of that left her scared but also wondering. Everything had a question mark that required an answer.

It was all too much that the girl began shaking a little. Nausea started to creep in. Even the anak of intrigue on her shoulder seemed to be paralyzed for a moment or two, expanding and contracting in a similar fashion to Elowen's trembling.

Elowen did not experience a sense of calm coming from its presence, but a burst of further chaos in her mind. More questions. More intrigue. More fear and unknown. She leaned onto the worktop and started breathing loudly. The sound of air rushing through her nostrils, the intention behind each deep drag, it helped her keep the immediate panic at bay. But it took her a long while. Eventually, she dared to flutter her eyes open, picking the immediate thing that she could solve - the seeds.

She had four.

Looking outside, Elowen knew it may be a risk planting them in this season. She didn't know how these seeds germinated. It may be too cold here. They could freeze and die.

But that was the risk of natural selection. Was it not?

The girl straightened, then split the four into two twos.

She was a result of an experiment. Most likely. There was a sense of certain comradeship with this undeveloped life in her hand for she had to do an experiment of her own to find out more about what these were. So she decided to run a test. She would plant two seeds outside at two different parts of her garden and then she would have two pots with the remaining seeds inside.

After all, life bloomed and blossomed under different conditions.

[Elowen]

Rewards Requested

Notes/Warnings: Slow moving, introspective thread.

Thread: [Mistral Woods] Seeds & Spirits
City/Area: The Stormlands

Renown: Working with this local rumour. So perhaps as a method of enforcing it she may gain small renown?

Collaboration: No
Local Language Thread? No

!	Message from: Pig Boy
	Done!

[Pig Boy]

Elowen

Feedback

So this is long overdue, but I'm giving you a Painting with Words medal. Because you do write so well. Your writing has detail, emotion, and character, so you've earned it.

Other than that, this thread was great. I like how Elowen resisted any urge to respond to the outsider. Not only does it add to her mystique, but it also does nothing to dispel or verify her status as a spirit person. Maybe she is, maybe she isn't? Who can say.

The gamut of thoughts going through Elowen's mind are well described. I also like how you characterized the spirit haunting her shack. They seem very cute, penguiny and all.

That said, it was clever of her to plant the tree seeds in two very different conditions, to see which one gave the best results. Who knows what'll happen there?

Great writing.

Rewards

• Points Bank: +5 - Earned a Medal
• Renown: 10
• XP: 10

Knowledges

• Gardening: Identifying seeds
• Psychology: it was easier to be brave when there was no danger
• Discipline: Taking time before acting
• Intimidation: x1
• Gardening: Seed germination
• Research: run a test