Vignette - In the Blood

The mid-morning sun hatefully glared down on a grey haired woman in her early sixties. Her short, stout frame had become all the shorter and stouter with age. A cruel twist of fate in her formative years, she wore it quite comfortably now. She was far beyond worrying about beauty, only about effectiveness. No, her grey hair was marshaled and firmly mustered into a bun. No stragglers or deserters would be tolerated. Her dress of what they now called beginners cotton was worn and somewhat frayed but scrupulously clean and neat patches covered the frays.

She left her small but comfortable apartment on the ground floor of one of the four story stone towers at a steady march. Determined to once again bring order to this little chaotic corner of the world. After all, she thought, If I don't, who will?

Her children had long since fled the nest and her grandchildren were getting there, but if she wanted them to continue to grow then someone had to get things running ship shape. It certainly was not going to be those three goofballs, bless their noble little hearts. Idealism and shallow cynicism united to present a world weary exterior but the lack of true life experience showed through. A problem that was fixing itself, she allowed. There was plenty of life to experience outside the walls.

Still they were young yet, and didn’t realize what was needed to keep a household running properly. But that was an acceptable lack. They had her to pick up the slack. More than twenty years she had spent keeping up the great house in Oxfordshire. The tools and equipment might be different but people remained the same. It was well within her capabilities to handle.

The younglings didn’t realize quite what a find they had in her. That was acceptable as well. All it would take is time. Eventually they would be properly grateful that she had appointed herself to handle the task. They were welcome, no need to mention it.

Marching through the gates of the governing tower she was feeling generous. The small tight smile on her face remained austere, but it did show the appropriate level of approval. Her picked crew were hard at work, some scrubbing floors or polishing the wooden chairs and tables. Others on laundry or even scratching out records. What she didn’t see was anyone leaning on a broom pretending to be busy!

Not after the first week at least!

People WOULD learn the lesson when it was explained to them properly. And Mrs. Hubbard prided herself on her ‘explanations’. She very rarely needed more than one.

“Tsk, Not that way dear,” she took a step to the side stopping a young man from carrying the large half barrel of dirty wash water out by himself, “You are a strong young man I’m sure, but get a bit of help hmm? Else when you spill, I assure you, no one else will be cleaning it up.”

She waved away his stammered apologies, bestowing another small smile and a pat of approval on his shoulder before resuming her march. A good find young Adam. Hard worker, just needs a wife to settle him down and shore up his lack of common sense. Her perusal of suitable young ladies was halted momentarily as she corrected a sweeper who was missing the corners.

A few such small adjustments, complements and a few scoldings followed her through the building without delaying her overmuch. Not like the first few days. She didn’t hold it against them. They weren’t born and brought up with her advantages.

“Good day Master Donald, you asked to see me?”

“Haaa, how many times do I have to ask you to drop that ‘master’ nonsense Mrs. Hubbard. I am not some lord!”

“The master will forgive me for the mistake of course.” She smiled sadly at his frustration, deciding it was time to make a point. Young men did need a guiding hand now and then. “You and your brothers lead, Master Donald. It does not do to forget that. For either us or you. To lead one must be followed! Honorifics and titles serve to remind everyone of where they stand. A sign of who they should obey and who must obey them. Without such signs how can you expect them to react appropriately when danger descends? You can’t and they won’t. Chaos will ensure, and we can not afford that. Master Donald.”

“Firm hierarchy? And you so routinely do what you're told Mrs. Hubbard? Nevermind that,” He sighed and gestured towards a desk occupied by a small wooden writing plaque, “I need to go lead a purification ritual. Can you turn my notes on the new goods into a distribution plan? I should be able to drop by and approve it in a couple hours.”

“Of course Master Donald, go on about your important work and leave these small matters in my hands, after all,” she smiled at the bright young man with a twinkle in her eye, “it is my job.”

Chapter 37

Unlike the rooms set aside for statecraft these chairs were comfortable. Timothy sighed as he wiggled slightly on the plump cushion. There was a very good reason for it, but explaining it might cause more problems than it solved.

To either side of Timothy around the low round table, cliche but he could not resist, were Regi, Jenney and Gareth. All four pathfinders of the hold in one place waiting on the start of the first ever meeting of The Conclave! Sure the name was somewhat pompous. But give it time and it will grow into it. If he had his way it would have a very long time to do so.

Paired with the comfortable chairs was a sideboard filled with tasty BBQ, copious fresh veggies and an assortment of mild libations. Mild was the important term. This was, after all, an affair of the mind. Clarity was required and strong drinks were incompatible with that concept.

The center of the table was taken up by a pair of recessed, shallow beaten copper bowls. They were two feet wide and topped with vertical clear essence glass walls that rose an additional foot and a half above the table. Walls that were filled nearly to the brim with water and runed with a complex enchantment. The end results were frankly downright artistic. Spidery lines and geometric shapes accenting the austere clarity of the glass and backed by a slight visual deflection from the water.

His musings were brought to an end by the chime of a somewhat reliable magical clock. Little more than a deliberately decaying enchantment the clock worked off an initial will infusion that held a small hammer above a cymbal until the charge expired. Clumsy at best, still it was predictable and in time he could polish it into something considerably better than an hour glass, or a three hour glass in this case. Enough, it’s time!

Timothy looked around, making eye contact and waiting for all three nods before taking a deep breath. He pulsed a great deal of his available will power to activate both the device in front of him, and through the linking runes, those in the other towns as well. Three linked sets of the full scrying enchantment with an added image projection. It was a considerable weight of magic to run by himself and he would have to do it repeatedly. The enchantment would only last for a half hour at a time. It was a bear to trigger but he did not want to be distracted. Constantly holding it open would have done that in spades.

The three towns, Paradise, Bloodhaven and Runehold, were now linked together with the intent of sharing knowledge. It was an achievement that Timothy was truly proud of. If it worked out. And as for Templeton, Nope! Fuck that! Not happening! Considering no one else made even the slightest suggestion in that direction he felt pretty safe in saying he was not alone in that opinion.

Just because he wasn’t willing to leave all those people at the mercy of the jungle didn’t mean he was going to encourage that holier than thou prick.

The crystal clear waters became suddenly opaque, clouds of glimmering lights spread, erupted and settled slowly into a pair of miniature rooms. Rooms was perhaps pushing it. The view of the enchantment was only five feet around each of the linking stones and no walls were visible, instead both bowls revealed several occupied chairs surrounding a nearly identical pair of bowls. Differing only in that the bowls he sent did not have the elaborate carved enchantments on their glass. They made do with the linking rune in the base.

The view was spectacular, if he did say so! Like an escher painting or the trick with mirrors from Inception. Each bowl had the image of a smaller bowl that contained an image of an even smaller double bowl that contained…. Ya, on and on as only a fractal can. Dizzying and prone to causing headaches if you stare too long. It wasn’t deliberate, but it did add a nice arcane feeling to the proceedings.

Ignoring that for a moment he transferred his attention to the occupants of the seats. The two trio’s were what he expected to see. Paradise had Tucker, the animal tamer, still tall, weather beaten and gaunt but sporting a rather nice attempt at a stetson, black with a brown rawhide tassel, and a sharp, if a bit bright, outfit. Almost fluorescent blue pants of rough vinecloth and a pink shirt buttoned up the center with boar ivory. Glancing at his waist Timothy was disappointed NOT to see a belt buckle that could stand in as armor. Merely a small metal clasp held a braided leather belt together.

Next to him were an elderly couple of distinctly native coloring and facial structure. Oscar and Lotsee sat calmly in a mix of dyed vine cloth with a few boar hide accents. Hardly the beaded buckskins and eagle feathers that the child in Timothy had hoped for, though they did go for the feathers and beads for more magical tasks. Oscar’s shoulder length hair was sprinkled with bits of grey that framed a kind pair of eyes surrounded by well defined laugh lines.

His wife wore a simple floor length dress that was elegantly, if lightly, dyed with flowers. It was a very light blue that was accented by the vibrant reds and yellows of the flowers. The two together made her waist length midnight black hair stand out beautifully. She appeared ageless in a way that accented her husband's obvious years. The world was often unfair that way. An old man became all the wiser for his wrinkles. An old woman was usually described with considerably less complementary descriptions. Ageless was definitely the preferred method. If you could swing it. Where his eyes were kind but deep, hers were sharp as a blade. Not cruel exactly. More unwilling to tolerate any nonsense. A mothers gaze over a pack of disappointing children. Magnanimous and loving, but the blindfold of that love had been removed and she saw them for what they were.

The maybe brothers from Bloodhaven were much easier to categorize. Once again in their austere black cloaks they looked like peas in a pod. Each tall and overly skinny with dyed hair that was slowly returning to its original brownish blonde. Today they sported an identical facial tattoo in their trademarked fresh crimson. Probably temporary… I hope. Considering it surrounded both eyes the symbols were probably something like truth or clarity. Timothy couldn’t fully read them, but he had seen enough similar effects to make a decent guess.

He quickly checked his speech notes and began. “Good evening all, I welcome you to The Conclave on magic. “ He paused for effect.

“On magic.”

“Ambitious I know, to not narrow it down. A conclave on science would be pretty ridiculous. It’s a subject that we could discuss for well beyond the rest of our natural lives.” Good thing I will have a pretty unnatural life span… “Still, I left it that way deliberately. Speak about whatever aspect of magic that you find interesting. I don’t want to propose limits on a subject that might well be limitless.”

“That was the better, now the bitter. Magic may be limitless but people generally need those limits. Here are my expectations for those present and anyone who joins us in the future.”

He offered a rueful smile before continuing in a firm tone, “This is a meeting for discussing magic. This is not a diplomatic mission. If you want to talk about treaties or trade then kindly send a note by boat or however else you want to do it. I made this for a much more important subject and I won’t waste my time and will on politics.”

He looked around, ignoring the stink eye Regi was giving him. Lotsee had an amused smirk on her face along with a raised eyebrow that somehow suggested that he was a child misbehaving. The look washed right off Timothy, Mama was a past master of that look and he had the armor of experience. Her husband's poker face was a much more intractable problem. An audible chuckle from Tucker finished out their group. He would have no immediate disagreements from that trio.

One of the three from Bloodhave, not Rafe, was less amused by the pronouncement. “Is politics so unimportant that you refuse to play? I don’t wish to give offense but that seems short sighted. There is an old saying that if you refuse to play the game, it will play you!”

Timothy sighed, “I don’t want to call you Rafe’s maybe brother so how about I introduce everyone before we continue? I am Timothy and clockwise from me here at Runehold are my brother Regi, My sister Jenney and our friend Gareth. At Paradise you have Tucker in the hat next to Oscar and his lovely wife Lotsee.” He gave a sidelong glance, checking to see if a few compliments might remove the motherly disapproval. So far no dice.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintances. I am Mike and my younger brothers are Donald” he gestured to his right, “and Rafe.” he gestured to his left.

Rafe, Donald and Mike…. I guess I know what his parents' tastes were… Poor goths, it’s not exactly Su but still, the teasing growing up must have been brutal! Then again, who was he to deny himself the pleasure? “...is there a fourth brother by any chance?” Keep a straight face, you know you can do it. Don’t laugh.

Mike gave a long suffering sigh, closely mirrored by his brothers. “Go ahead, get it out of your system. No, we don’t have a fourth brother. We did have a dog named Leonard.”

“Coulda been worse, youngster, lotta folks named shortly after the 60’s had it a mite hard in life. Better a set of turtles than flowers and moonbeams.” Tucker drawled.

Getting his face back in order Timothy pressed on, no reason to pick at a sore spot “To answer your question Mike, I do realize that politics are inevitable and I do participate when it’s required. But I think this new world has some differences that haven’t sunk in yet. For the most part large groups of people are not the basis of power anymore. Popularity and demagoguery are not going to protect anyone from the beasts at large. Magic will.“

He let that sink in for a minute, it probably was not a new thought to anyone, but sometimes people were blind to the obvious. Best to get his stance out in the open now before people started asking for ‘just five minutes to check on our deal before you start’. That would turn into twenty minutes, then the whole damn time.

“Ok, now that the bitter is out of the way, time for more of the better. I hope to trade off subjects. One session from us here at Runhaven, then Paradise and last, having seen our good intentions hopefully you at Bloodhaven will take a turn. “

“Bloodhaven?” Rafe asked.

“Ah, sorry, it gets old trying to refer to something as that town that is somewhere thata way. I tagged you with it as a stop gap. If you have a name already please let me know.” Timothy sheepishly replied, ignoring the amusement directed at him from around the table.

“We hadn’t thought about it honestly” Donald answered for his brothers. Mike shook his head and picked up after him.

“We will have to get back to you on that one.”

Nodding his head Timothy moved on. “Ok, so let me begin. I decided to start us off with some observations on what I call the Magic Field. Threads, notes and chaotic flows of magic that is on top of, or perhaps beside our physical world. Each person I have talked to describes it slightly differently. Hell, even saying ‘sees’ is a bit of a misnomer. Perhaps senses? Whatever, I can’t tell you if it comes from the physical, or creates the physical or something completely different. What I can share is my observations on the nature of those threaded notes and how certain patterns in the field can influence the physical.” He had planned this first lesson to be more of a set of background observations, instead of details on any particular spells, but spells were the easiest way to show an effect so- “I set these pools up to show the magical as well as the physical so please observe while I trigger this simple spell to move a rock-”

The presentation lasted another thirty minutes but the discussion, observations and reactions lasted well into the night.

It’s an interesting and well known phenomena that attempting to teach others what you know greatly aids one in understanding. What is less often spoken of is WHAT you understand. You begin to understand what is indefensible. Being wrong, Timothy reflected the next morning, was the true human condition.

He sat casually on a floor cushion in the scrying room casually viewing the jungle not a mile away from Runehold. For once his current project was not the result of new runic inscriptions or add ons. Instead it was perspective. An act of will to drop his perspective below, or sideways perhaps, the real world and focus entirely on the field behind it. A question from Oscar had really thrown him for a loop the previous night.

“Is magic the same from place to place? A spirit called from the jungle and a spirit called from the garden are they the same? Is a cat like puma?” He smiled a very feline smile. “You say that is my expectation, no? Arrogance! The spirit is different! Is it my doing? Is it the dancers in the circle? Or every person who has seen the new jungle? They see the jungle as beautiful and deadly. Vibrant and fecund. Belief feeds reality. This group, that group, it matters not. Ten men become one hundred in the greater circle trying to summon a garden spirit from the jungle. That was three months ago. Failure feeds failure as success feeds success. Who knows how many now.”

Timothy reflected on that conversation. Oh sure, the old man was exaggerating. He barely had one hundred canny men and women in paradise. But he still had a point. Merely by existing humanity imposed their expectations on the world at large. Good and, unfortunately, mostly bad! Fear was rampant everywhere. Stay in the holds. Make them fortresses against nature! Self perpetuating prophecy.

The issue became even more complex when you added in a side observation. He stood up and wandered over to the sideboard for a drink. The spirits of paradise did not stay stagnant. They learned from association. They were molded by experience. Not simple robots or NPC’s. Granting something life apparently did not make it YOUR life. Life is growth. Growth that was beyond the control of the creator.

He paced around the room, trying to fit observations and the comunal input together into a workable whole. Or even workable pieces! Fact one: the magic field could be manipulated by the collective belief of anyone or anything with a will. Fact two: humans had a habit of personifying everything around them. ‘That damn forest is out to kill me!’ or refering to the Nellie as a she. The ocean was well known to be a lady, life giving and gentle when the mood suited her, tempestuous and angry when provoked.

How soon would this become reality? When would the lady of the forest rise from a sun dappled glen. When would the ocean and lake take human like forms? And when they did would they become lethal enemies of mankind? Grims fairy tales in their original dark splendor and visceral cruelty taking form just outside the walls.

Then again, life could be granted by belief, but it was shaped by experience. Despite how belief shaped their birth, how they were treated after that could drastically change the results. Could he make relationships early with these inevitable beings?

His pacing stopped, his nerves settled. It was enough to have a path forward. There was no guarantee of success of course, nor that his hopes and fears were more than illusions. There rarely was certainty in anything. But even that beat the gut wrenching emptiness of indecision.

He took his seat once again and began to look for the swirling kaleidoscope that he was coming to recognize as sentient thought. It might be formed already, or it might never form. Strangely enough he was starting to hope that it would. The world was a strange and wonderful place full of endless forms most beautiful and terrible. He chuckled at the thought as he continued his search. “♪Come on, Hop on, lets take a ride-♪”