Merrill (
st_illsabrae) wrote in
strangetrip2017-06-10 02:05 pm
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Entry tags:
EP - The Sweetest Blood Mage - OTA
Merrill knew where a handful of things were for sure. Her room. The kitchens. Anders' room. Rey's. The café. The pool.
Everything else was basically a coin toss, something interesting she'd found and then probably never see again. It was how she'd treated Kirkwall for the most part.
The day was lovely and sunny in a way Kirkwall rarely was. She sat int the middle of a manicured field, eyes closed as she sprouted flowers around her instead of just hacked off grass. She hadn't ever been shy about her magic. What was the point? People saw her vallaslin and assumed anyway even if she didn't have her staff on her.
This place was alive and healthy as far as she could tell. She wasn't a healer. She'd have to ask Anders and that would be a battle in and of itself.
She wanted to work on connecting better with this place, on figuring out what it wanted. If she knew what it wanted, maybe they could all get back home and she and Anders could help Hawke and the rest of the world. She didn't want Anders to get to the point where his hope started decaying and there was nothing any of them they could do about it.
Maybe... Maybe somehow she could figure it out...
Everything else was basically a coin toss, something interesting she'd found and then probably never see again. It was how she'd treated Kirkwall for the most part.
The day was lovely and sunny in a way Kirkwall rarely was. She sat int the middle of a manicured field, eyes closed as she sprouted flowers around her instead of just hacked off grass. She hadn't ever been shy about her magic. What was the point? People saw her vallaslin and assumed anyway even if she didn't have her staff on her.
This place was alive and healthy as far as she could tell. She wasn't a healer. She'd have to ask Anders and that would be a battle in and of itself.
She wanted to work on connecting better with this place, on figuring out what it wanted. If she knew what it wanted, maybe they could all get back home and she and Anders could help Hawke and the rest of the world. She didn't want Anders to get to the point where his hope started decaying and there was nothing any of them they could do about it.
Maybe... Maybe somehow she could figure it out...
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Only then did he move a little closer and say quietly, "That's remarkable."
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"Thank you," she said.
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It didn't make him graceful about it, the way he walked up and just said, "Hi." But it wasn't hostile, which considering the month he'd had, he considered a coup.
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"Hello," she said, looking up at him and smiling warmly. "Is everything alright?" She hadn't thought she was doing anything wrong, but... She was very good at finding trouble. Maybe there was a sign somewhere that said 'no magic' and she'd never know it.
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She reminded him of an Avvar the way he'd just tromped up to her like that. She had always quite liked the Avvar. They had interesting thoughts and traditions about magic. The only thing she hadn't appreciated was the occasional promise to make a stolen bride out of her that she had to dissuade with force.
"Merrill," she said, extending her hand up to him.
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Once she released his hand, he crouched and ran his fingers over the fresh flowers. Life's energy pulsed from them, strong and vibrant. He didn't smile, but his jaw unclenched another notch. "Are you a druid?"
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He seemed so tense. Less like Fenris and more like Aveline in his way. From what she could tell anyway. Maybe he really was angry at everything like Fenris was and she was just so used to his brand of callousness that it was hard to see a different vein of it in other people.
"Plants are really the only thing I can make grow. Keeper Marethari always said I was a terrible healer." Maybe she would've gotten it one day. That wasn't ever going to happen now. At least Anders was here. He was the best healer she'd ever seen so long as he wasn't caught up in his own head.
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Technically, his cure spells and restoration spells worked on any living thing, but he rarely used them on anything that wasn't at least semi-sentient. Too many aware-creatures got hurt to spend the magical energy on plants and trees. Especially when there were people like Keyleth in the world.
"I'm not one either. I'm a cleric."
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"Let me guess. Cleric isn't a good thing where you're from."
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"Will you tell me what it means where you're from?" There. That was a good starting point. She could figure out where he was coming from and then wouldn't have to explain anything about the war or the Chantry or the Chantry's history with the elves in particular or any of that.
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"Clerics are magic users where I'm from. We fight, foster and heal," he explained. It sounded more like Pike than him, but it wasn't wrong when it came to him either. "We get our magic from our gods instead of from the Weave."
Hoping to stave off the inevitable, Kash added, "I'm a Life cleric. I believe in Life itself."
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"They're not, where I come from. They're higher up members of the Chantry, the church of Andraste. It's..." She pressed her lips together and shook her head. "The Chantry and magic have a painful history as do the Chantry and elves. When you happen to be both things get painful. I'm sorry. I shouldn't've jumped to conclusions."
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"Sounds like a real bitch." Which was the Kashaw conversational equivalent of sympathy. "We've got places where magic is restricted to the clergy and plenty of people who hate one or another kind of magic but when your world's full of magical beings and races that'd murder you as soon as spit, at most, it usually gets you a side-eye."
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However, seeing flowers grow on the grass by themselves was not what he expected when he went out simply to get some fresh air, and it had him stopping dead on the spot. "Pretty," he commented, walking close to her, but not wanting to spook her. There had to be a reason she was sitting out here by herself, growing flowers. Not everyone was as comfortable with magic as he was, after all.
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"Oh, or the afternoon in general. It is a lovely afternoon, isn't it. Hello."
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As he approached, he tried not to make too much noise. "Excuse me, would you mind if I draw some of your flowers?"
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Flipping through the austentatious journal he had found in the gift shop to a blank page, he started to lay out the rough shapes of the plants around the young woman. "Have you always been good with plants?"