RP:On a Mission to Mend

From HollowWiki

Part of the I Got 99 Problems, and a Congenital Defect is One Arc



Synopsis: Skylei returns to Xalious as promised. She and Josleen embark on a trip to Enchantment to do some research in person by asking the pixies for guidance. During their trek, Skylei and Josleen push against the frayed seams of their own relationship. The visit The Trembling Tree and The Healing Tree in search of solutions for Josleen's problem, and in the process mend a little of their friendship as well. They meet with Glenys, the wise pixie of The Healing Tree. Glenys tells Josleen she was malformed in the womb, and needs to return to a womb to be re-knit correctly. She shows them an illustration of an enchanted chrysalis, pixie-sized unfortunately, that could potentially repair her. Josleen needs to travel to pixie elder Trith, the Guardian of the Cocoon, to implore his help.


Xalious Village

Whilst Skylei’s business in Craughmoyle had gone well and she’d gathered all of the things that she had needed, as she’d taken the roads between the dwarven city and the village of Xalious her mood had steadily soured back unto its original low. With naught but the complexity of Josleen and Eliason’s relationship to contemplate as she tracks through the quaint little village, Skylei finds herself wound up the confusing threads of relationships, feelings and emotions that are as foreign to her as the drow language. By the time she’s reached the centre of the village, Skylei is cranky and, indeed, sweaty and dehydrated, something that doesn’t improve her mood any. Instinctively, Skylei stops and looks up in the direction of Josleen’s apartment. She should go up there and speak with her friend as she had promised but she’s really not in the mood. As people mill about her, making the most of the good weather that is typical of the season, Skylei takes the bottle of water from her bag and downs the lot, making the most of her last few moments of solitude before she’s reunited with the bard. Maybe Josleen will be out…


Josleen has similarly been on an emotional rollercoaster, but one which dwarfs Skylei’s given both the nature of Josleen’s intense character and the extreme drama and scandal through which she now wades. Skylei is better off not knowing, and, to her fortune, Josleen does not plan on telling her anytime soon. Skylei is afforded several minutes of quiet solitude before Josleen exits her building and spots her. “Skylei!” She chirps as though their last encounter did not end on a sharp note. Their recent friction only whispers its presence through Josleen’s choice not to force a greeting kiss on Skylei. “How was Craughmoyle?”


Skylei gurgles a greeting at Josleen, as her mouth is still full of the final swig of water. Pulling a half-grimace-half-grin at Josleen, Skylei would at least have the decency to turn away as she swallowed. Once that is done she would turn back, pull another face (all grimace this time) and reply. “The dwarves are as disagreeable as they always have been. Unfortunately, there is a reason their forges are so reputed and so if you want the best steel, you’ve got to talk to dwarves.” Skylei shrugs before wiping the sleeve across her forehead. She’s had insisted on continuing to wear Ezekiel’s coat in spite of the recent spate of warm weather and thus, it’s no wonder that she is sweating horribly. “How was the rest of your day?”


Josleen does her best to ignore Ezekiel’s coat, but it proves more difficult than it should be. There was a time when Skylei’s insistence on wearing Ezekiel’s coat would have bothered Josleen, but the complexity of relationships has dwarfed that quibble. Now the coat serves as a reminder that Ezekiel is omnipresent in her life, not just in her home but in her friendships and familial bonds as well. He is even present in her trysts with Eliason, nagging at the back of both their minds. In response to Skylei’s question, the rest of her day was spent in one such tryst, but Skylei would never guess it from Josleen’s effortless lie. “Good. Relaxing. A bit boring, perhaps. Small-town living, small-town boredom. I’d be lying if I said I continued researching.” She’d be lying if she said anything at all.


Skylei believes Josleen’s flawless lie. It’s all part of that bardic charm that Skylei has fallen for time and time again. There hasn’t been a single lie that Josleen hadn’t managed to get passed Skylei. “Oh, well, you should come over to Cenril again. It’s not so bad, if you can get used to the noise of stray cats at night and… well, you should come and stay. Get away from the little village, y’know.” Skylei had at least managed to stop herself from telling Josleen about the many delights of Cenril, including the linger smell of piss and stale vomit in the alleyway near her house, the ever present threat of gangs and the extortionate prices. “Besides, there’s no library like Cenril’s if you’re actually serious about doing research.” Skylei’s tone implies that she’s expecting that Josleen will give up on this venture before she even gets started. She manages to recover her tone to produce mildly supportive, “I mean, I can help you if you want?”


Josleen smiles genuinely (as in, with honesty! truly and verily) at Skylei’s offer to visit Cenril for some time. “That sounds like just the escape I need. Ezekiel’s current contract has him so busy he’ll hardly notice I am gone.” Skylei’s tone doesn’t chafe Josleen this time. There is no denying the bard is out of her element and diving blindly into the scholar’s. “I would really appreciate that. I am no longer sure what I am searching for. I have studied quite a bit about magical disciplines and enchanting magic, especially of natural make, but where do I go from there? I want to fix whatever is wrong with me. There has to be a way, right? I look at all the things magic can do, all the types of healing especially, and am hopeful there has to be something for me too.”


Whilst the vast majority of Skylei’s thoughts had centred on the Josleen-Eliason complex, she had given Josleen ‘s conundrum some thought on her short travels. She puts on the kind of voice that one uses when telling a child about bad news “Josleen, if it can be fixed it won’t be by the conventional means. I grew up in the house of a healer and then my father’s wife was an incredibly powerful druid, but that kind of thing is way out of their range. It’s not like your physically wounded, is it? How can they heal something that’s part of your make-up? I…” Skylei doesn’t feel positive about this kind of thing but manages to at least partially disguise her pessimism behind a big smile, “Well, it simply means you can discount that. But that’s just the conventional human and elven healing! There are so many other things we could look into. Dryadic healing maybe? Or bardic? Or even pixie magic.” Skylei’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes as she repeats, “There are so many things to try, I’m sure we’ll find a way!”


Josleen simpers at the word ‘bardic’ in relation to ‘magic.’ “My father tried to make a bardic mage out of me, but I was never very good. Could warm a stone, but that’s about all she wrote. Oh! I did make a candle wick glow on a handful of occasions, but the flame never quite caught. On the other hand, I could heal minor cuts, though it would take about 6 minutes of song. By then, the cut has already stopped bleeding and the whole endeavor seemed pretty pointless,” she laments. “Would pixies make the most sense? Their land is called ‘Enchantment.’ Is that just a coincidence...or?” She burns bright red, fully aware of her childish desire to put the square peg in the square hole.


Skylei is perfectly happy to leave the bardic magic well alone, especially due to Josleen’s lack of talents in that area. As for Josleen’s flushing red, Skylei politely averts her eyes from the sight and manages to maintain her semi-supportive aura, “Well, I can’t say for certain exactly where the name came from, but pixie magic is incredibly powerful and I think we’re going to be looking for something quite out of the realm of the ordinary. They’ve also developed very unique ways of healing due to their size and nature, so perhaps with the nature of your… problem, they would be a good first step, yes.”


Josleen glances towards the village sundial. “Do you have somewhere to be today? Enchantment isn’t very far if we cut through the Burrows and Delicate’s farm.” She points south. “It may be worth it to ask around? I’ve always felt that first-hand knowledge beats a book. Indeed, it’s how I get most of the source material for my plays and stories. If that fails we can make plans to meet up in Cenril soon.”


Skylei is underwhelmed by the suggestion that insider knowledge could ever take presidence over the things that can be found in books. But this is Josleen’s quest and she is willing to let the bard do it in the personable and very ‘Josleen’ way. As for whether Skylei has things to do that day. She always has things to do, but none of them are things that she wants to share with Josleen to allow herself to excuse herself from this new mission. “No, not a thing. We can head over today if you want. There’s all kinds of places in the kingdom that might be worth a look, if you’re willing to do that?”


Josleen claps her hands excitedly twice. “Yes! How exciting. I’ve only ever been through the outskirts but never in the kingdom proper. How accessible is it to people of, uh-- Oh hi!” She squeals a greeting to a passing villager and dips forward into the chest-in, butt-out hug. “It’s been so long!” “Of course, I’ll let Ezekiel know you send him your best. Tell Maddie Happy Birthday for me. I can’t believe she’s turning 4 already.” “Alright.” “Yes, we must.” “Bye bye,now! Hope to see you soon.” Smiling, she turns back to Skylei and explains, “Dionne, such a dear, went to school with her. So. Where were we? Enchantment. Ready?” Josleen walks alongside Skylei, greeting a few more villagers on the way by name and smiling at those whose names she does not know but whose faces are familiar. She risks losing all of this if she carries on with Eliason. Is it a risk she is willing to take? To Skylei, she makes casual conversation. “Did you know it’s that frightful Archmage Tiphareth’s birthday this month? Now that I have met him once and he, in spite of my low expectations, actually helped the village, I wonder if I am expected to send him something a little more personalized. Do you send him a cakelog? The whole village sends him cakelogs. It’s his favorite food - or was, back when he could taste things.” She states this as though it were a fact everyone is privy too, and not just a clever marketing lie put forth by The Dancing Destrier. “Though I have no clue what he does with all those cakes now. And frankly, I don’t want to send something -too- personal, lest he think we’re friends. The meeting went well, but I still wouldn’t repeat it if I could help it.”


Delicates Farm

Skylei had opened her mouth to respond to Josleen’s first question when she had become entangled in her social engagements. Instead of interrupting, or continuing, she instead simply falls silent and waits in that stoic elven state until Josleen engages her again. She almost feels a pang of jealousy as Josleen greets the third acquaintance in so many minutes. Whilst not a common occurrence, Skylei can’t deny the sting of bitterness behind that jealous wave that makes her wish that she could have Jos’ ease with people. Skylei could count her friends on one hand and her acquaintances are made up of fellow academics and service people. It’s a sad picture and doesn’t make her feel any more positively about Josleen. Then she recounts the urban legend of Tiphareth and the cakelog to which is scoffs. “I wouldn’t send a cakelog unless it was laced with poison.” Skylei responds with perhaps a little too much vigour. Her plans suddenly flash to the forefront of her mind along with a gigantic warning sign. Was that too obvious? Would Josleen guess what she was really planning to do? Of course not; it’s not the first time Skylei has expressed her dislike of the Archmage, or his kin against whom her vendetta is planned, but plotting has made her paranoid and so she immediately stutters out a rebuttal of her own idea, “I wouldn’t, of course. That would be so stupid.”


Josleen gasps at Skylei’s public declaration of hate against Tiphareth. Her wide eyes reveal more concern for Skylei than for Tiphareth. Josleen doesn’t care about what happens to the archmage, and indeed Skylei is likely right that Hollow would be better off with one less evil lichdrow, but one simply does not say such things under the shadow of the tower. “Skylei!” She hisses. “What if someone hears you? He has spies everywhere and saying his name invokes his attention.” Urban legends abound. “You don’t have to send him cakelog, but watch your tongue in public spaces - heck, and private! He’s everywhere. I wouldn’t want you to disappear. Two years ago, Hugh Rowland, a local farmer, was at the town well and said something bad about the archmage. A month later, he disappeared. Never seen again. Even his personal belongings were gone. Nothing left but his wife and kids.” Josleen very ominously describes a painfully obvious story of a man deserting his family, but the village has chosen to believe otherwise. An evil archmage at the helm of the most powerful institution in the village provides only one silver lining: a scapegoat. Maybe she can spin her heinous affair with Eliason and pin that on the lichdrow too. That’s a harder story to sell. As they pass the Delicates Farm, Josleen greets the owners and farmhands and is gifted free beets and string beans. “Oh you shouldn’t have!” Skylei also receives produce just for her status as Josleen’s friend and guest to the village and outlying farms and burrows.


Skylei rolls her eyes at Josleen’s declarations that Tiphareth will have her head for daring to openly dislike him. She is always so overdramatic. Sure, it hadn’t been the smartest thing she’d ever said but suggesting that she was going to be snatched from her bed seemed a little beyond belief. And that story being pinned on Tiphareth simply makes Skylei roll her eyes. For someone who understood human interaction, Josleen had sure managed to put a supernatural spin on a commonplace tale of desertion, “Josleen, I think that the Archmage has slightly bigger fish to fry than a little half-elf with no political interest or power in -any- way. If he doesn’t have better to do with his time, then I envy him and I’d like to know his secret.” Skylei is gracious in her reception of the produce, but it’s simply another nail in the box of bitterness she feels towards Josleen and her superior social status. Before the cracks had begun to appear in their relationship, Skylei hadn’t even noticed these things. Now they simply embitter her further. As they move on from the farm, Skylei decides to start digging as subtly as she can, “I meant to ask about Collin. You said you were glad to see him walking again. Did something happen?”


Josleen goes cold when Skylei mentions Collin. Thankfully, the question takes a turn towards a manageable topic. “Oh… yes.” Her voice fries over the difficulty of the topic for reasons know and unknown to Skylei. “During the Exile War in Frostmaw… He, uh, went out to battle, alone. Because, well.” It’s rude to call a hero and idiot, but he was an idiot. “He succeeded in distracting the death knights, and bought the army crucial time. During the battle he was stabbed through his stomach. I was volunteering as a nurse for the Frostmaw army at the time. I, well… I don’t like to think about it, but he wouldn’t have made it off the battlefield on his own two feet. He was going to die out there unless someone brought him in, so I did. He suffered severe organ and spine damage, paralyzed from the chest down. He was in a coma for a few days.” She glances towards the ground, helpless to stop herself from frowning. “It was bleak. I - well we, all of us in the medical ward - didn’t know if he would make it. But he did, only to find himself in a wheelchair. Collin, in a wheelchair.” She huffs ruefully. “It was just as tough mentally as it was physically - for him, I mean. About a week later, he left for Larket with Sabrina, his new girlfriend. He mentioned her yesterday. She’s a healer.” Josleen does her best to conceal her affection for Collin and jealousy of Sabrina, but it’s difficult to say just how successful she can be in the face of such traumatic and personal memories. “They were dating before the injury, I think. I don’t know. I never asked him. As far as I know, he’s been living in Larket with her for the past few months.”


Is Skylei imagining it when she thinks that the colour has drained from Josleen’s face in the space of time of her bringing up Collin’s name and the next time she tears her eyes from the road ahead to the storyteller. The wind through the lanes has picked up a little and, although it’s not cold, maybe Josleen is chilled. Skylei ignores the fact that it is her and not Josleen who is particularly sensitive to the cold. Of course, she could simply be upset by the memory of Eliason’s injuries. It’s true; they really do sound gruesome, especially with the chilling storytelling ability of a bard. It must be a combination of the two, Skylei decides. “Oh.” Is the half-elf’s emotionless response to this barrage of information that features Eliason’s injury, healing and new location and relationship, “I guess that sometimes it takes trauma to bring two people back together, right?”


Entrance to Town

Josleen mumbles, “Maybe.” She falls silent for a full minute. The silence is tense and ripples when broken. “Maybe sometimes people are just inevitable to each other.” She hates these words that betray her. It’s too obvious, and thus she’s quick to add, “I mean, why else was I the one there to save him? But I am glad I was. We’ve had our differences, but I wish death on no one. I am glad he’s better now.” The air starts to brush against them like a thick curtain. It smells like the color green and itches the nose. Josleen begins to feel heady, as if drunk on something sweeter and thicker than mead. “Lilac wine. Does that exist? I bet it would be popular.” She muses. Color flushes out her pallor and her tension melts away. They’ve entered enchantment. She yawns and smiles for the first time since Skylei brought up Eliason. “I could take a nap.” It’s easy to deduce why Josleen used to cross the Delicates Farm so often as a child, on those frequent visits to the edge of Enchantment. She is still herself, but a pacified version of her typically alert character.


Skylei sees through it all. From the wink, to the new closeness between the two of them and Josleen’s near enough confession, Skylei’s seen it all before. There are people who can love and can hate but cannot exist on a middle ground. Josleen and Eliason clearly fall into this category. Whilst the details of this affair remain a mystery, Sky has no doubt that it’s a reality. Perhaps for the first time ever Skylei controls the fire of anger that bubbles from below the surface at her complete realisation of the situation. Even her face is the perfect picture of elven serenity. It’s likely that she has been able to control it so well because she already knew. She’s been lying to herself with tales of both their moral fibres; what a joke. For now, she can’t quite ascertain who she is angriest with. Maybe it is this confusion that keeps her lips sealed and judgement under lock and key. In spite of all of this, she cannot help herself when it comes to making a single jibe at Josleen’s moral fibre, “You’re so lucky to have such a good, understanding man as Ezekiel.” Fortunately for Josleen, it is at that moment that they draw into Enchantment and the magics of the kingdom begin to take their hold of her friend. Skylei puts judgement on hold and turns to the task ahead. Even if she is angry with Josleen, she can continue the work if she simply thinks of it as science. “You can’t take a nap. We have things to do and people to speak with. And you know as well as I do that you’re much better at that than I am.”


Josleen nods reflexively at Skylei’s comment about Ezekiel. She wouldn’t want to say anything even if she could, but as it stands, she cannot. “Oh alright,” she agrees sluggishly. “Who should we speak to?” She grins at a passing pixie and waves, only to be ignored and unfazed by the neglect. “Pixies are such kind folk.” Sure. “I wonder if they have a village healer? Oh yoo hoo!” She calls pleasantly to a rather indifferent pixie guard who is just trying to get on with his pixie life. “Yoo hoo! Hello, sir. Hellooo-o! Would you be so kind as to entertain our ignorance for a moment?” Josleen does her best not to condescend through her tone. It’s a bad habit she has when meeting the little people. “We’re looking to meet with a healer, one whose practice is open to the public.” Does pixie society even work that way? Skylei may be better informed in pixie phraseology.


Skylei shakes her head at Josleen’s attempt to engage the pixie in conversation. The pixie in question seems unimpressed by the tone of Josleen’s voice and simply goes about his pixie business after giving her a strange look. The Kingdom of Enchantment is used to full-size people, but most who visit are elven and thus have lived amongst pixie folk for most of their lives. Josleen clearly does not have this advantage and the result is awkward and comical in equal measures “Uh, just talk to them normally, Jos. They’re probably smarter than you are and we want them to help us, remember?” Skylei would gesture across the path toward the small stream that runs through the town centre, “We should head to the trees. There are two we should probably stop by at. The first you should simply see if you’ve never been to Enchantment. It’s almost criminal not to have seen the Trembling Tree. They taught you about that in history, right? And we’ll have to pass by it anyway” This is a treat for Skylei; history nerd. “The second is where their healers practise. We might be more likely to find someone willing to talk to you out there?” If Jos should agree to this plan, Skylei would lead her along the stream rambling facts about the restoration of the Trembling Tree that are interesting only to her and other such scholarly types.


Josleen scoffs at Skylei’s tone. Skylei chastises her for speaking to the pixies condescendingly, then speaks to Josleen condescendingly. It’s an effective lesson in how it feels to be condescended. “Of course I know about the Trembling Tree.” She has never visited up close, but refrains from saying so. Josleen doesn’t share in Skylei’s excitement, but she the facts are interesting to Josleen. She asks when confused and is eager to learn more. History is the stuff of songs. Bards know their history as well, albeit Josleen has favored human and elven history to pixie. The Trembling Tree is at a cross-section of all-race history, and thus she knows about it, but Skylei adds new elements Josleen had never considered instrumental to her story-telling. When they arrive, she lets Skylei take the lead.


The Trembling Tree

Skylei dips her head in respect as they reach the tree before daring to edge close enough to rest her hand against the bark. Just as people feel the magic of the Xalious tree flowing through them when they get close enough, the Trembling Tree has the ability to send feelings love and compassion flowing through the veins. At this point, Skylei manages to relieve herself of the anger and irritation and near hatred she has felt towards Josleen during this journey. It’s like having the weight of all of her troubles lifted off of her back in one quick swoop. “Just think Josleen. This is the place is representative of all people coming together and fighting against the forces of evil and of the power of healing and restoration and the gods. It’s like the greatest monument to all the good in the world.” Cheese central. With a sigh, Skylei looks back to Josleen, still pumped on the untrue high of the trees empathetic powers, even as she removes her hands and moves back towards the path that will lead them on to the Healing Tree, “I do love you, Jos.”


Skylei’s saccharine overture is poignant enough to move Josleen without the bard touching the tree. She nods reverently as Skylei repeats the symbol of the tree, and agrees with hearty nods and a whispered “That’s right.” Perhaps the tree is powerful enough to affect Jos at a distance, or perhaps Josleen is sentimental. “I love you too, Sky.” Despite their history, her words are sincere. Perhaps they should return here one day and air out their drama under the peaceful intervention of the tree. They move on to the healing tree, a site Josleen knows even less about. “We’re heading to the Healing Tree right? How did it get that name?”


As they walk, leaving the trembling tree behind them, Skylei attempts to explain what she does know about their destination, “I believe it’s where the pixie healers learn and teach their trade. They’re like elves in many ways, in that they believe most of the magic they channel comes from the natural world and so the power of the natural world is channelled in healing. But Pixies are another one of those creatures that are notoriously private when it comes to their customs and history. They’re not dissimilar to dwarves in some ways really. Unless you’re close to one then they admit very few into their customs and secrets. They’re not unfriendly, so to say, just secretive.” The foliage grows less glorious and varied in colouras they continue along the path and they reach the eastern boundary of the Kingdom where the Healing Tree sits. This tree though mighty in many respects, is still completely dwarfed by the Trembling Tree behind them. “Honestly, Josleen, I don’t know what or who we’ll find there, but it’s a good place to start.”


As they leave the comforting membrane of pixie magic, Josleen’s anxieties resurface changed due to their excursion through Enchantment. “I’m a bit nervous. I think I was researching slowly on purpose, to avoid this moment. Now, I could receive bad news. What if there is no fix? Or just, this could be another door closing on hope.” She shivers once. “Well… we’re here, so I suppose there is no point being a coward.” She smiles at Glenys and waves, despite the fact she hasn’t been successful even once with a wave outside Xalious today. Again, she lets Skylei take the lead.


The Healing Tree

There must be a little bit of the calming magic left running within Skylei because, as Josleen grows anxious about the concept of what lies ahead, Skylei offers her a hand. Should Josleen take it, she would hold onto in as they crossed the ivy covered glade and made in the direction of Glenys. From the age of the pixie, Skylei chooses to greet the healer as though she is one of the elders within her enclave. It’s a side of Skylei that only comes out for public performance. Her usual blended accent is hidden behind one that is pure elven in tone and lightness, and her manners appear impeccable as she drops Josleen’s hand for a few seconds to dip into a light curtsey. “My lady, my name is Skylei Lucindio and this is my friend Josleen. We’re here looking for answers and we were hoping that the wisdom of your people might be able to assist in our quest. Pray tell, might we sit and talk with you for a while unless you have patients you must see to?”


Josleen definitely takes Skylei’s hand. It’s nice to feel like she has her sister back. Maybe their fighting is also indicative of sisterhood. When introduced, Josleen curtsies as well. Glenys welcomes the newcomers to sit under the folding branches of the tree. Josleen sits with her knees bent and tucked to the side beneath one cheek daintily. It’s easy for Josleen to mimic Skylei’s tone, cadence and demeanor. “Thank you for your generosity and kindness.” She lets Skylei take the lead again. Everyday on this new quest Josleen grows increasingly better at talking about magic, but Skylei and Glenys still make her look like a toddler in the arena of magic.


Skylei ’s pose mimics that of Josleen’s; demure and ladylike. Once they are seated, Skylei would smile and nod at Josleen in a slightly patronising way, though only designed to let her know that this effort is much more successful than the last. “My lady, how best should I address you?” The healer remains in the stoic silence so typical of druidic healers, so dedicated to their art that they have little time for niceties and formalities. Unperturbed, Skylei ploughs on, “The issue that we’ve come to speak with you about is more complex than the usual problems you might face. My friend here, she travelled out to Gualon and in the swamp was enchanted by the flowers that are only supposed to possess enough magic to enchant rodents and the like. From that we’ve deduced that there’s some form of predisposed weakness to that particular school of magic, the emotional type to be specific.” To Josleen, Skylei would look now, “Am I explaining this correctly? Perhaps it would be better if you explain.” As Skylei falls silent, Glenys would open her eyes to examine Josleen properly. Her eyes, the same shade of lilac as the foliage that Josleen had appreciated as they entered Enchantment scan Josleen intently as though looking for some physical sign of the defect Skylei describes.


Josleen nods gently to Skylei as she passes over the verbal baton. “Yes. I would only add that a masterful mage, Lydrain, Headmaster of the Larketian Academy of Magic, tested my resistances with various spells belonging to different magical disciplines.” Glenys either does not recognize the name or is not impressed. “He conducted weak transmutation and necromancy spells, and I resisted as expected. He cast a spell to manipulate my emotional reaction to dust - to fear it - and I reacted stronger than intended. I had no resistance whatsoever. He said it was enchantment magic, or emotional magic as Skylei mentioned. He deduced that I have no resistance at all.”


As Skylei opens her mouth to continue where Josleen left of, Glenys finishes her examination of the bard. “You are correct,” she tells the duo, “It’s not natural nor is she normal. Indeed, it’s not a common problem or anything that I have ever come across in all my years of practice.” Skylei works hard to keep her face neutral and not allow the disappointment of the healer’s words to appear on her face. What had she been expecting? Answers at the very first stage? It seems highly unlikely that that would have ever happened, but Sky had clearly hoped for an easy outcome. “If you will excuse me for a few moments, I must consult with the gods and my books and see if there is anything I can suggest that would help you.” Glenys would promptly disappear behind the altar and a draped door of ivy. As she leaves, Skylei would offer Josleen her hand again, “See? She’ll come back with something and we’ll be one step closer to the solution.”


Josleen is defeated despite Skylei’s best efforts. ‘Not natural.’ ‘Not normal.’ ‘Not common.’ ‘Never come across it before.’ Josleen had been expecting answers at the very first stage, especially when that stage is a beautiful tree protected by mystical, wise creatures in an enchanted forest. Josleen squeezes Skylei’s hand and turns her defeated expression towards her as if she were intending to smile, but then suddenly forgot. Her lips part to speak, but likewise forget. Eventually she says, “I’m glad you’re here.” And she truly is. She can think of no better companion in this moment. Ezekiel and Eliason have their place, but here, Skylei is best suited and appreciated.


Skylei says nothing but keeps hold of Josleen’s hand for the time that it takes for Glenys to return from her search. Her thumb would stroke the back of Josleen’s hand soothingly, just as a mother does to a child when waiting in a dentist’s office, hoping to calm her worries. When Glenys does return she brings with her a book the likes of which she hands to Skylei. Once it is in her hands, the book mutates from its pixie size into that so that it is readable by human eyes. It’s open on a page featuring a cocoon like formation and numerous enchantments. How she knows that Skylei is the more bookish of duo where Josleen likes the more personal touch is anyone’s guess. Once she is settled at Josleen’s side, the pixie would look to the bard with those piercing eyes again, “Child, there is no quick solution to what ails you. But there is hope. When you were created…” Glenys pauses and sighs “Perhaps it is due to the… complexity of your birth,” Skylei flushes red at this, knowing it’s a comment of the half-blooded status of the pair, “but, when your lifeforce formed within your mother, nature did not align properly. There is an imbalance in your very being that has been within you since Hind blessed your mother with the joy of childbearing. It may have been formed at the first moment or in the developmental phases, I cannot be sure and for that reason the gestation period will not be short. You will need to return to the very first stage for several weeks whilst the gods of nature re-sow the threads of your being. And I can make no guarantees as to the outcome as it has not been done in many years. Are you willing to try this, Josleen?” All this time, Skylei examines the cocoon and in tandem with Glenys’ words Skylei pulls a face, “Are you saying that Josleen needs to go back before she was born? That’s impossible surely!?”


Josleen is well aware of the comment on her biological blasphemy as well and looks appropriately shamed despite the fact neither she nor Skylei had any say in their conception. There’s a reason Josleen doesn’t use a last name, and it’s because her father never let her use his. ‘That’s for elves, dear.’ Glenys’ command of the gods and magic engenders trust, but the solution which the pixie proposes drowns out that trust with panic. “...W-what? You mean… I have to.. become an infant?” She looks to Skylei for clarity. Surely she has misunderstood something here. “Will I lose my identity? Sense of self? If I am born again, does who I am now cease to exist?”


Skylei might envy Josleen’s life often enough, but at least she got a father who was willing to share his last name with her, in spite of her shameful birth. Glenys smiles for the first time at Josleen’s and Skylei’s outcries at her suggestion, “Nay, child. It’s like a suspended state of being that allows your metamorphoses to take place. Your fibres will be broken down and then rebuilt with the elements that are missing woven into you to make you properly whole. I cannot make any promises but your memories should not be affected. What I need to know, child, is whether you are willing to take this step. There is only so much I can tell you. Beyond that, you will need to speak with the one who watches over such a space. But he is not easy to reach, nor can I promise that he will be willing to help you.”


Josleen smiles reflexively at Glenys’s smile, but the panic never leaves Josleen’s stare. “I… I mean.” She looks for Skylei’s opinion. “Can I speak to the keeper of this… pod? Cocoon, sorry.” She swallows hard and tries to affect her voice with calm reverence once more. “I need more information. Could I meet with him, get more information, think about it, then go back again if I decide to do it?” Josleen has always wanted a story-worthy life, and yet she clings to the hope that things will be easy. Things are never easy in the best of stories.


Glenys shakes her head, not unkindly at Josleen’s protestations, “When you choose to travel there, I expect you will have to make the decision whether to take the treatment we can offer or not. If you refuse, I do not think that the Guardian would be willing to consider you twice. In all honesty, you will be lucky if he will consider you at all.” Skylei expects that Josleen will react badly to this news and so offers soothing suggestions, “We don’t have to travel there yet, Jos. You can think it over for a few days, weeks even if you need them.” Skylei has kept hold of Josleen’s hand all this time but now releases her grip so that she can close the book that rests on her lap, “What we will need is instructions as to who to reach this Guardian, if we may?” Glenys dips her head and gestures back along the direction in which they have come, “From the centre of town you must descend through the moat before the castle. Then you must venture through the graveyard of dragons and pass through the pixie battle ground, from there onwards only those of our size may travel to meet the Guardian atop the giant’s hand.” Skylei would look to Josleen, “Definitely doesn’t sound like a journey you’d want to do twice, eh?” She’s trying to make a joke out of it, but honestly this almost sounds like more hassle than it’s worth. So what if Josleen got trolled by flowers? She hasn’t died… yet. The defect can’t be -that- bad, surely.


Josleen rubs both hands over her face as if to rearrange her expression into something other than overwhelmed, but fails. Skylei’s joke falls flat. It isn’t a bad joke, but it is poorly timed. To Glenys she asks, “If I don’t do this, just how bad is my problem? What am I exposing myself to?” And finally, realizing the wisest person under the tree in this moment is Glenys herself, Josleen asks, “Would you make this journey and choice?”


Skylei is also interested in hearing just what the pixie healer would do, had she been placed in Josleen’s position. Skylei suspects that she knows more than she has been letting on about the road that lies ahead of the bard, but says nothing in case she spooks her friend, “The defect will grow over time, Josleen. It may reach the point where other parts of your magical defences are compromised; I cannot honestly say what will happen. Like I said, such a condition is so unusual that I cannot be certain what the consequences will be. But, like all conditions, your chances of being able to cure the problem are greatly increased the sooner you act.” Glenys’ words are clear. There isn’t plausibly another option. As far as Skylei can see, this cocoon metamorphoses is Josleen’s only option.


Josleen swallows hard and turns her gaze towards the ground, lets her jaw go slack. “Um…” She blinks a few times, shaking her head slightly at the circus of it all. Is this real life? It is, and real life relations require real life manners. “Thank you.” The thumb-sized Glenys has grown into a mountain of wisdom before Josleen’s esteem. “You’ve been kind and helpful. Forgive me if I am not displaying the proper gratitude. I am still shocked.” An uneasy glance passes the baton to Skylei. “I suppose I have a lot to think about and discuss. We shouldn’t take any more of this wise druid’s time.” She bows her head to Glenys then suddenly starts as she remembers an important question. “Is there a formal title by which we should address the guardian of the cocoon should we choose to pay a visit?” Hopefully Skylei understands she has been drafted into this special mission. The decision has been made whether or not Josleen wants to acknowledge it. Her signature’s ink is already drying on the missive.


Skylei gets up from the ground, leaving the book placed in front of where she had been sitting. Once she is upright she offers the pixie a second curtsey of gratitude, “Aye, thank you for your time and help. I’m sure you have many more important things to be attending to than our little problem.” Glenys bows to the duo as they depart, “My mother told me that his name was Trith, but he is one of the oldest of our order so I have never met him. Most of our kin just refer to him as the Keeper of the Cocoon, or the Guardian, or simply the Elder. He responds to all of the above. Safe travels Josleen. Hind be with you, child.” That said Glenys disappears behind the ivy curtain again and Skylei would gesture back along the stream, “We should get going, Josleen. Maybe we can get something to eat at the farm on the way back, ‘eh?” Skylei would keep the conversation light and casual with no mention of the heavy weight pressing on Josleen’s mind.


Josleen rises and curtsies when Skylei does. The phrase ‘Hind be with you’ inspires a genuine smile. Hind always seemed to Josleen like a very good god indeed. She agrees to dinner at the farm. Delicates Farm is normal, pleasant and familiar. She needs a lot of that right now.