The Raven's Tale [SE]

Jigano grinned at hearing the raven's interest, tilting his head in wry acknowledgment of the kinds of groups Rance was used to. "I don't think you'll find us more organized than the ravens," he admitted with a chuckle. "Occasionally we pull together to do something for the guild as a whole, but most of the time each Seeker goes their own way, pursuing the topics most of interest to them. The guild serves mostly to collect that gathered knowledge in one central repository, and, as I said, to assist each other when we need a little more help than one person can manage on their own." He liked to help his guildmates out and stay in touch with each, but getting everyone together was like herding cats - or corvids!

A chuckle was the bard's response to Rance's understated admiration of his magic, that and a conspiratorial wink. "It comes in handy," he agreed easily.

"An excellent plan. Here's a base--," he slid one over. "And the square wooden sticks for the frame are there. As long as they're all the same height, that's what matters most," he explained. "Ah, the gluepot, too, since I'm done with it." He slowed down to take his time and show Rance how to insert the framing sticks and secure them before sliding over the various sheets of thin paper. "If you want to paint or glue different layers of paper on a side to create a scene or design, now's the time to do it," he suggested with a small, wry smile, his humor subdued by their solemn task. "Once we glue the side squares to the lantern frame they'll just tear if you put any pressure on them." He left the choice of colors and decoration entirely up to the raven while he considered his own design, reaching for blacks and reds and a pot of silver paint to draw stylized scales across the black.

The lack of stringent organization was another point in Jigano’s favor, though Rance wasn’t going to say so aloud. If the Guild have been anything that required him to put down roots upon joining, it likely would have led to an automatic rejection or, at the very least, much less enthusiasm. The fact that the Loreseekers were more a scattering of knowledge collectors — not unlike himself? — was reassuring. He nodded at the information given, filing it away to muse on as the focus turned to the lantern-making.

The wink and the comment kicked up the corner of his mouth, the beginnings of an understanding half-smile. The improved mood lingered on as Jigano imparted directions for crafting the memorial lanterns. Rance knew that he wasn’t an artist by any means, a confession he made without embarrassment, but he had steady hands and could at least follow directions. “Do you give these lessons often to others from… away?” Rance mused as he glued the framework together first. He could give that time to try before doing anything to the paper, though he did pick one sheet up to get a feel for it. It wasn’t unlike the very fine paper used in some expensive books, though he’d only seen one or two of those. Maybe it was more common on Caido? Or easier to make? “Are we goin’ to burn these at the festival? After Ludo chooses one, I mean.” He glued the frame together with care, slowed only by inexperience.

Sharp lines marked Jigano's second lantern, crimson paper for the first layer, overlaid with black at the bottom, cut in a deep V with silver scales painted over it so that they caught and shone in the light as they dried. It wasn't great art, more simple and stylized, but it was the thought that counted. He kept an eye on Rance as they worked, letting the other man proceed at his own pace. "Mmm. Yes and no?" He paused in his painting to give a rueful shrug. "I've only been here two years myself. I hosted a lantern-making gathering for people last year, as well though... that was under... very different circumstances." His eyes turned distant and hardened for a moment at the memory of the Blight that had overcome him in those dark days, and how he had fought to hold his temper and his tongue against the poison's cruelty. "If you mean more in general, though, helping Outlanders become accustomed to the traditions here, then yes, I try to offer various classes and such." His grin kicked up a little as he began applying the first panel to one side of his lantern frame.

"It's part of the job. It was one of the reasons I founded the Guild for, last Deepfrost; part of the 'sharing the collected information with those that need it' principle. After my time spent learning and stumbling through my first few months, I wanted there to be a better way for others in my circumstances." He chuckled as he sat back to eye his lantern and make sure the panel was even before working on the next one. "That, and with barter being the rule of trade here I can earn some goodwill and build favors from new arrivals for when the Guild does things like fixing the hole in the Atheneum's ceiling last summer, or gathering supplies to distribute for LongNight." His arched a brow at Rance, his smile a little wry as some of the sadness of his task pulled the cheer from his mien.

"Most hold on to them for next year. Some people come with a whole armload of lanterns. Some just bring one. Some are metal, or glass, others wood and paper. It's up to you what you decide to do with yours after. If you have a place to stay where you could keep it you might. If you don't, then you could burn it, or drown it, or leave it hung on its tree or pole for nature to take its course with." He noted the raven-man's steady hands, each move precise and careful as he followed Jigano's instruction, and he bard nodded quiet approval of the lantern that was beginning to take shape.

Half his attention on the lantern and half on Jigano’s reply, he was slow to start his own creation. His gaze drifted down to both the elaborate – in Rance’s eyes – first lantern, and the still in-construction second. There was a story being told in paper in paint, as much as in the fox’s face and words, though Rance lacked enough information to read it. He arched his brow in curiosity at the slow and vague reference to the previous year, but didn’t interrupt to ask for details. It was possibly – probably – something private, especially considering the shadow of death that still clung to the edges of the conversation.

Jigano’s smile returned and the moment passed. Rance was coming to realize at least one detail about the Provost: he was a teacher. Maybe not a leader, though Rance had no proof to support that yea or nay, but he definitely enjoyed instructing. As he said, it was ‘part of the job’, part of helping other Outlanders, part of heading the Loreseekers, part of being a Loreseeker, if Rance was understanding him correctly. Of course, the lessons had practical, personal purposes as well and Rance’s own smile returned. “There is that. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a place long term that used favor and skill exchanges over payin’ for stuff with metal or gems. Fallin’ back to the habits of the Hidden instead of the humans – the ones I’m used to, at any rate – might take a little time." He flashed a wider grin. “But not too much.”

As Rance put his lantern together, he asked about the final fate of their creations. By the time Jigano was answering, Rance had finished the simple box frame and was taking his first piece of paper, a pale, sky blue. Opting for paint instead of trying to cut the fine paper without damaging it, he picked a pot of red and a brush. "It wasn’t unusual for people to keep their mourning candles, too. Especially if you weren’t able to make your own and buyin’ another each year was too expensive. As long as you burned it for a couple hours up until midnight, the Ghost Queen would be acceptin’." He began painting a rounded feather shape in red. Just an outline with a line partially bisecting it to designate the shaft, but it was enough.

"My world was mostly metal and gems, too," the bard shared with a rueful smile for the raven. "And it takes a little while to build up a reputation for fair play and goodwill, but people here will generally be open to helping you out until you're on your feet." There were always exceptions; the rift between the Naturals and the Outlanders had largely been papered over and was no longer so obvious, but the resentment lingered in unexpected pockets and eyes that glared at the newcomers - from other worlds or simply other regions - with mistrust, no matter how good their intentions.

Only time and elbow grease would heal that lingering divide, but if Rance was lucky he'd never see the flashfire spring up again the way it had during Jigano's first spring on Caido.

Rance's easy confidence was charming in its own way, and he drew a grin from the bard before Jigano focused a bit more on the painting of the scale pattern, answering questions as he worked. When he looked up again it was to watch the application of a red feather against the sky blue base color, a brow arching in curiosity at the vivid, even bloody, design. "Did the Ghost Queen have any helpers? Minor deities or children that assisted with her domain?" Some pantheons did, some didn't, but it was always harder to explain the roles of Caido's herald gods to those that came from worlds without any easy approximation; they tended to other place the heralds equal to their creators, or too far below them. Either too powerful, or not powerful enough.

As the silver paint dried he added thin lines of glue to the frame and pasted the panels into place, carefully centering them before he smoothed the thin parchment over the wood and metal it would seen be bonded to.

There was no denying that, even if they hadn’t come from the same world, Jigano understood the strangeness of landing on a place like the one they were on now. Foreign customs, practices, magic. Perhaps that was one of the reasons Rance had been put at ease so quickly.

He still didn’t doubt that some of what Jigano told him about the natives had to be softened a bit for his benefit. At the same time, though, he’d freely admitted that Caido as a whole was not an easy place to live. And Rance knew from his talk with Maea when he first arrived that people who lived in the Hollowed Ground had gone through a lot while trapped in the damn magical soap bubble. It was possible that they were happy just to have people around who didn’t mean to cause them further harm.

An image of what Rance wanted to do with his lantern was starting to form in his mind as paint marked paper and they talked about the fate of their items of reflection. Lantern or candle, there was enough similarity to the rituals and the deities they were dedicated to. So the conversation shift toward the gods themselves felt natural instead of an interview. "No children who follow her path. The name isn’t just a title. Stories say she died to get her post.” He looked up at Jigano, reaching for the other pieces of blue paper he would need to complete his lantern. He repeated the same design – more or less – on each sheet as he continued. "Thinking about what you said, she might do the jobs of this Mort and Ludo combined. Though, she doesn’t guide many souls herself, only welcomes the ones who come to her.” Rance had never been particularly devout to any god, picking up stories for all of them as he traveled, but the Ghost Queen interested him a little more than most of the others. Ravens were so often called her servants, how could he not be?

"Does Ludo guide all the souls himself? Is that what you meant by ‘herald’?”

A silver brow arched in curiosity at the Ghost Queen's story, and he tilted his head in a decidedly canine fashion as he chased the scent of hte tale. "Who held if before her?" Or perhaps the better question was 'what' held it. Isuma began to stroll across some of the paper and Jigano quickly reached out to scoop her up and shift her to his shoulders before her claws could damage the delicate stuff, the gryphlet peeping happily at being granted her favorite perch as Rance continued.

"Is there a problem with ghosts and revenants that don't go to her?" Something the bard seemed to have some experience with, if the narrowed gaze was any indication. Not worried, necessarily, but aware of the dangers of such things. Angered souls left upon the material plane to howl and rage as they lost more and more of their intelligence and eventually became little more than haunts left to torment the living without any memory of who or what they had once been.

More paper was painted and applied before Jigano took a break to fuss over Isuma gently, giving her a finger to gently nibble as he patted her talons and she squeaked happily at the game. His smile was for the gryphlet and the subject matter both as Rance asked a question of his own, and the bard nodded. "Almost all, yes. The Old Gods," and he emphasized the capitals, "created helpers, pieces of themselves or their power. Though gods in their own right, the herald gods are still less powerful and much younger than their creators. Ludo though..." He paused, smile turning oddly fond for a man speaking of a god. "Ludo is a special case. It is... a god that is eternally young at heart, in many ways. It takes joy in little things; games and trinkets and treasures that hold memories, however humble the item. It gathers the souls of the dead as a serious responsibility and guides, them, yes, but it can be whimsical or even capricious towards the living. Catching it in a good mood with a good offering is important. Though, the same is true of all the gods," he added ruefully. "I admit that I am biased towards it, though. It is the patron I have chosen to follow, at least, for its power over the domain of memory."

Rance enjoyed telling a tale as much as hearing one and Jigano was giving him a reason to indulge in something he rarely had the chance to. The Loreseeker wanted information and Rance couldn’t help but give him the answers he knew. “There’s mixed stories about that. A god gone mad, a monster, or just a great devouring pit. They all pretty much agree that souls were being consumed, though.” He glanced up at the small bird noises, lips twitching in amusement at the sight of the young gryphon. He turned his attention back to his painting as he continued his story. “Whatever the Ghost Queen was before, whether god or not, she died in the fight that killed the creature and became an eternal guardian of all souls from then on.” Of course, that was oversimplifying, but any legends about a god would be.  Those were the facts that most stories agreed on and the shortest way of telling them.

The question of what happened to the souls who didn’t make it to the Queen’s realm was a shadowed one. “Ghouls.” Rance’s smile faded into a grim line. “They’re real monsters. Hidden, human, if your soul doesn’t find its way, it stays and slowly rots with your dead body. Stories say a lot of ghouls try to hold onto what made them people in life, even look and act natural at first, but they hunger for what makes other people alive and hate us for having it. So they feed off the living to try and get back some semblance of life.” Rance shook his head and set aside the red paint, picking out a purple next. “Got surprised by one once, when I was campin’ in the Forest. Escaped, obviously, and got the word out in the next town. Not going to miss those fuckin’ bastards one bit.” Being hunted was never fun, but there was something truly terrible about the undead. How they could look almost, but not quite alive, right up until they started rotting and going mad.

Asking about Ludo was as much a grab to change the subject as it was curiosity. He painted a few smaller feathers in purple before straightening, letting paint dry as he listened to Jigano talk about Caido’s gods. The change in the Provost’s manner as he spoke of Ludo was palpable, a quiet adoration Rance had seen only in people who really believed. Rance felt his smile returning a bit, just at the description of the child-like god. “So, in decoratin’ the lanterns like this, are we just makin’ a game for it? Not in a bad way, I mean, but decoratin’ all bright and colorful for its day?” It made him think of bringing shiny gifts for his siblings’ naming day.

It was an appropriate tale for their task at hand, and Jigano enjoyed listening to Rance spin it, in spite of Isuma's brief interruption. As he turned to the placing of a candle within Adam's lantern he hummed thoughtfully, envisioning the story that the raven painted with his words. "A kindly god of death, then, rather like our Mort it sounds like. At least, in the broadest sense," he admitted ruefully. "A guide and protector rather than a judge or punisher?"

It seemed that they both had rather grim experiences with the undead, and Jigano's smile faded as well as he listened to Rance describe the revenants of his world. "My world had those, too, though perhaps in greater variety," he admitted. "Ghouls, ghosts, zombies... different types of undead, but all related by the soul remaining when it should have gone on. I'm glad you made you escape," he added, a flicker of wry humor beneath the sincerity.

The final touch was adding some more glue judiciously to the tops of the wooden framing posts and setting another 'base' on top, this one with a holed knob in the center that a handle could be run through. The bard chuckled at the question, taking no offense but rather finding the question a good one. "In a way, you're right. The lanterns are for us, mostly, to help us both remember our loved ones and to accept their passing, a way to help us move on without losing our connection to them. But at the Festival where we hang them, Ludo will chose one that appeals to it. There's no rhyme or reason, from what I've been told. Whatever catches its fancy that night, it will reach into Mort's halls or even beyond to grant the lantern's owner a short time with the souls of their loved ones. A chance to say goodbye, or just to be together one last time... There are those who choose not to attend because it would be too painful yet. Or because their loved one has gone missing and they're afraid to know if their soul has already passed on," he added, voice growing softer and a little sad as he thought of his own lover.

“Yeah, exactly,” Rance agreed, a small part of him relieved for the similarities. He was somewhat prepared for the gods of Caido to be completely different than the deities that watched over his world, but it was still less jarring that at least one of them was not.

“Thanks, me too,” Rance replied to a different sort of relief with a quirk of a smile at one corner of his mouth. “Never heard of zombies, but the ghosts I’m used to hearing about are harmless. Just impressions of souls with strong intents or magic, leavin’ an echo of themselves behind, like the spots you get in your vision if you stare at a candle flame too long. Annoyin’, but they disappear eventually. Where you’re from, they’re the actual souls?” That was almost as horrifying a thought as the reality of ghouls themselves.

He painted purple feathers above the red, slightly smaller, in that same simplified style. Jigano spoke of the gods and their ‘helpers’, Ludo in particular, which prompted Rance’s own slightly amused question about the lanterns they were preparing. Luckily, Jigano seemed to understand that Rance meant no insult by his question and gave a fairly detailed reply. It brought a little bit of sadness of Rance’s own smile. He reached for the dark blue paint, repeating the pattern of even smaller feathers. “I’m not sure if I’d want that. I will always light a candle in memorial, but actually talking to dead…” Rance trailed off for a moment, considering his next words. “I can see how some migh, though. That chance to make your peace. It’s the kind of gift that could hurt or help.” And very much the double-edged sword he was used to hearing about from the gods.

Jigano nodded at Rance's question, a little grimly. "Souls that linger due to worldly attachments and strong emotions. Sometimes sadness or regret, but usually anger or revenge. Those are... particularly nasty," he finished with a slight grimace as he put the finishing touches on his second lantern. "They tend to get indiscriminate after a while, losing whatever made them individuals until all that remains is rage. Enough to hurt the living that stumble across them. Thankfully, they're usually tied to a specific place and so can be avoided or eventually overcome, with enough divine magic brought to bear." Despite the unpleasantness of the topic the bard was clearly pleased at being asked about his world, a rare enough occurrence these days.

Jigano nodded slowly as set back to tease Isuma, playing with her taloned toes as she playfully nibbled at his fingers. The sadness in Rance's smile was echoed in his own as he offered quiet agreement with the understanding the raven had so quickly reached. "I've found comfort in the festival before. The fresher deaths are always the hardest, but with the older ones it's easier to find the good memories behind the pain of loss." He watched the feathers being applied with interest.

"Would you be willing to tell me about her? Your sister?" he asked, a gentle request that Rance could easily turn down without hurting any feelings.

Rance felt a shiver race down his spine at the description of the ghosts Jigano had known on his home world. Ghouls, but without a physical body that you could destroy to free the soul? Not something he would ever have wanted to face. “Glad there were other ways to be rid of them. Damn.”

He nodded at the mention of ‘fresher deaths’ being harder. Jigano had mentioned that those he made lanterns for were relatively recent deaths. Within the past year. “The first candle watch after Morgana’s dead was hardest. I can only imagine what it would have been like to see her again.” He looked up at Jigano, expression devoid of humor. “I hope you find comfort this year, whether that means being chosen by Ludo or not.”

Jigano’s query brought the quiet smile back to Rance’s face. He returned to his painting, switching colors to a sunny yellow as he answered. “I don’t mind. Like I said, it was a long time ago.” The yellow feathers were tiny, messy things, the brush too large for delicacy despite steady hands. “Morgana. She was… seven? All energy, no common sense. Which, I can’t deny, might be somethin’ of a family trait.” His smile turned briefly impish before he continued, “Her favorite thing was collectin’ the feathers of other birds, the more patterned or colorful the better. Mother made her a necklace of the smaller ones for her birthday that year. We left them with her body, so she could carry the memory of them to the Queen’s realm.” He said the last without hesitation or a change in tone, simply a continuation of the sentence before.

Jigano nodded, also glad that he'd been able to clear a few haunts - or destroy a few wayward souls that had lost all sense of self and clung to the material plane simply to visit pain and death on others. It was a subject he was glad had little direct parallel on Caido, though the LongNight monsters came close.

Morgana... it was a lovely name, soft and dark and promising an elegant young woman to emerge from a fledgling's awkward feathers. Or at least, that's what might have been, and Jigano nodded slowly at Rance's solemn condolences. "Thank you. There are some... some who I might wish to say goodbye to. Adam, at least. I... don't think I could face Caiside yet, though." Not when it had been his hand on the door that had failed to open it in time.

His gentle question was welcome, he was glad to see, as the raven continued to paint and his memories brought Morgana's lantern to life, the colorful feathers suddenly making sense. He grinned back at Rance's mischievous admission before the tale took a sadder turn and the bard nodded slowly. "I'm partial to feathers, myself," he admitted with a softening of his smile. "Or at least, to braiding my feathers in my mate's hair for festivals. Though mine aren't very colorful unless I paint them first." He tilted his head in a wry, foxy grin at the other man. "What of you? Is there anything you collect? Or, used to collect? Other than tales, that is," he amended with a quiet chuckle for what had drawn Rance to the Atheneum in the first place.

Rance's mouth pulled in a slight wince at Jigano's tone when he mentioned 'Caiside'. It was one he knew not from personal experience, but from his time traveling. The haunted voice of one who still regretted something about the loss, still ached with buried pain. "Back home, we say that those that make it to the afterlife have no anger or regrets.  Hopefully here it's the same for those in Mort's realm, yeah?"

Talking about Morgana after so many years brought only the joy in her memory and not the ripping sorrow of her immediate loss. Jigano was a good listener, sympathetic and responsive. It was something Rance had seen in very few people. Details about his sister came easily, especially since her love of feathers related to the lantern. The mention of Jigano's own feathers had Rance's brows rising and as he painted the final swipe of yellow and set his brush down his expression was openly interested and attentive. The query about what Rance collected came before he could voice the question suddenly at the front of his mind and he stumbled over his answer. "Uh, well, it was part of that, I guess. I probably would have collected books, but it's hard to carry those on the road. Had a journal where I wrote shit down. And, if I didn't have access to that, I wrote on whatever was available and stuck that in the book, too." That last he voiced with a little sheepishness.