forum A Sort-of Lion, A few Witches, A Not-Quite Closet(malfunction). Stalkers wanted.

Started April 04, 2018 by @Ca1iCa1--Is--Tired

tune

Sam finished his tea and stood up. "I'll be back in a moment." He took the cup back to the cabin and came back to the willow a few minutes later. "Would you mind showing me to your home?"

Lucy stood and brushed a few leaves from her legs. “It’s not far,” she commented and led him to the narrow path, glancing around at every noise she heard. She felt cautious, as the person who cut out the ward could be nearby. She was unsure of who would know to do that, besides anyone who had studied witchcraft.

"Stop acting scared. It makes you look like prey. Besides, you have someone with you, which drastically reduces your chances of being attacked."

Lucy couldn’t help but scoff at his comment. “I’m constantly scared, at least in the slightest bit. Being a witch is dangerous, you know. You get accused of making one dark spell and suddenly your drowned or burnt at the stake,” she muttered, her tone growing quieter at the last sentence. She adjusted the strap of her satchel that dug into her shoulder and kept her eyes ahead as she walked.

"If it's any condolences, they should stop burning your people at the stake in a few hundred years. And no offense, but a few of you deserve being burned. The imbecile who summoned me planned on using me to melt an entire city of innocents."

Lucy clenched her jaw and nodded. “That’s just a select few. Most, like me, have never touched a dark spell. Natural magic is much cleaner.”

"True. I prefer runes in worlds like this. It provides an efficient source of magic without the hassle of spells that require items and such, as well as minimizing collateral damage. I would prefer not to accidentally torch an entire clearing or worse."

Lucy smiled in a pleased manner and nodded. “Very true.”

The ground changed into a neat stone path. She followed the path, leading him past the decent sized cabin. She stopped once she reached a tall, thick oak tree. It looked to have a few shapes that were painted neatly on it, but there was a deep gash in the bark. “There it is.”

"Hmm. I should be able to fix it. Give me a moment, this type of spell isn't my forte." He reached inside his coat and grabbed a large book that probably shouldn't fit inside a trenchcoat, then walked up to the tree

Lucy bit her lip in an anxious manner as she watched him. She hoped that the ward would be able to be fixed. It happened to be one of the only black magic sigils left that her mother had casted for protection.

Sam opened the book to the back, where a carved box was hidden in the cover. He grabbed the box and set it in front of the tree, and opened it. He pulled out a jar of red paint and started to make a large symbol in front of the tree. He painted several runes in it that looked like the ones on his neck, and then set a small bowl in the center. He took a few odd branches and burnt them in his hand, the ash filling half the bowl. He threw a few bones into it and set a few small candles around the bowl. One of his palms burned white hot, and a blade of lava grew from it. He cut his hand, muttering incantations as he let blood dribble into the bowl

Lucy watched the ritual with slight interest. Just by the ingredients, she could tell that it was a darker spell. She was relieved, though, that someone else had offered to do the spell for her. She could assume that it was written somewhere in her book, but she wasn’t fond of the idea of trying it.

The red paint started to glow and melt, lighting the lines of it on fire. Stand back. Far back, Sam transmitted. The burning started to stretch outwards, grass and plants turning to ash too quick to be set on actual fire. While the area around the spell blackened and turned to ash, the scratched-out tree began to mend

Lucy back up a few steps to avoid the burning plants, grimacing slightly. She watched in amazement as the sigil began to take place in the wood.

The tree finally repaired itself, and the runes on his body and some on his trenchcoat glowed a bright reddish-yellow before the burning finally stopped. The burning died out, and Sam's leg buckled and he fell to his knees on the ground

Lucy’s eyes widened a tad when he fell. She jogged over and crouched down at his side. “Are you okay?” She asked quickly, doing her best to keep any panic from her tone.

Sam waved her away. "Yeah, fine. Not good at restoration magic, that's all." He looked down at his cut hand. He tried to melt it back together, but nothing but a few sparks flew from the cut. He scowled down at it, then looked up at the now grey sky. He got to his feet and stumbled a little. "Cabin. I can't be out in the rain."

Lucy instinctively grabbed onto his forearm to steady him. She led him into the cabin, shutting the door behind him. “Make yourself at home, and I can get you something for your palm if you would like,” she said, putting her satchel down next to a counter in the kitchen.

He sat down on the floor out of the way, staring at his palm. Human bodies were a funny thing. He felt a shiver go through him, and he tucked his coat closer around himself

Lucy leaned against the counter, watching him for a moment. “I’m Lucy, by the way. Can I get you anything?” She asked, shifting her gaze away from him and to a small vase of roses that was sitting on the kitchen table instead.

"Samandriel. And a bandage for my hand maybe," he said, already feeling tired from the cold

Lucy nodded in response, stepping into a hallway. She rummaged through a bathroom cabinet, grabbing bandages and heading back into the room. She crouched next to him, quickly bandaging his hand like she had done it many times before. “You know, I just perfected a certain potion that could hopefully make that cut go away. There wouldn’t even be a scar,” she commented quickly.

"No point. I'll heal as soon as the storm leaves." He couldn't suppress another cold shudder, and cursed the storm in his head

Lucy finished with his hand and stood up straight. She noticed his shiver and tilted her head toward the living room. “I have a fire place in the other room,” she said, folding her hands and offering a polite smile.

"That sounds good." He dragged himself to his feet, wincing a little when he accidentally hit his cut hand on his arm. It had been a while since he had gotten an injury he couldn't immediately heal