Summersong

He bowed his head at her not-quite derisiveness, accepting her judgment without removing the guard from his tongue. Until he saw the problem he couldn't be sure it was as bad as he feared, and it was all too easy to jump to the wrong conclusions without knowing more. The Fae were already unhappy enough with the barrierfolk as it was; the last thing he wanted to do was earn Arduinna's ire as well.

Her transformation into an owl was unexpected, but so much of what she did surprised and awed him that it no longer stopped him in his tracks. He drew in a sharp breath, struck by her beauty anew and the way the light danced along her silver wings. She gave him little chance to appreciate it before she was off, however, and he tightened the strap of his instrument case over his chest and set off at a swift lope behind her. He was quick and steady in his pace, though he was panting by the time she touched the ground again.

He hesitated as he joined her in surveying the damage, keen eyes striving to pick out those bits of metal, that glint of glass, of something inorganic that didn't belong. "Everything..." he murmured, a trickle of fear lacing his voice and the taut lines of worry marring his face. "From the largest life to the smallest...?" The bard knelt to run his hands through the leaf litter and soil, trying to see how deep the withering went, and when he stood again he impulsively offered the dangerous Fae his arm in support. "I... am sorry, Arduinna. Do you know how swiftly it happened? All at once or over weeks or...?" The bard paused and then shook his head. "We can talk elsewhere. I would not see you hurt if we remain here longer."

ARDUINNA

"From the largest life to the smallest," she echoes, surveying the sickness with a hint of bitterness about her, as though she ought to be able to bring back the vibrance of life in the Wildwood. And of course she has tried, but for every flower healed, a dozen more succumb. It is not enough. She raises a hand against Jigano's offered arm, needing no coddling or comfort.

"Slowly," she confirms. "A tree here, a shrub there. But little by little it is growing. And I am the woods, bard. There is nowhere in the Greatwood I might take you that I do not feel this burden. Have you seen enough?"

Nature, nurture heaven and home
Sum of all, and by them, driven
To conquer every mountain shown

Table by Sky!

He let his arm fall gracefully back to his side, aware that he had overstepped but tactfully letting the moment pass rather than draw more attention to the faux pas, when Arduinna seemed willing to look past it. "I take it there are more places like this one?" he asked. "Or is it spreading from this spot like water from a tainted well?" He nodded to her question and began to turn away, letting his feet guide him--

Nowhere in particular. Perhaps back towards the barrier scar, perhaps not. He tried not to think about it, or let his mind dwell on his destination.

"I will see what the histories have to offer. If this was seen by the authors of the earliest books, or at least written down by grandchildren who recorded their memories, I'll do my best to find it within the Atheneum's archives," he promised. He wondered, too, if this was what the Hollowed Grounds would have looked like in another hundred years or so, withered and lifeless, all the vitality sucked from the earth and the creatures that depended upon it. But for such decay to spread in a matter of weeks, barely even months since the barrier had fallen, was more than merely alarming. There was magic involved, perhaps life draining magic, but... "There are some among the human mages," he said slowly, "who have an ability to drain the life force of a creature - or a plant." Edy and the vampire gourds came to mind. "Though it wouldn't continue without them draining themselves dry in the process. Do the Fae - or any others in these woods - have any magic like that?"

ARDUINNA

"There are more places like this one," she confirms with a solemn nod. "It does not seem to have one single source. It is a pestilence, a plague upon our house in these woods." Sighing, she turns away from the blight and begins to walk back through the trees. Always she walks as though she has nowhere to go, which is precisely why her feet always lead her where she needs to be.

"Thank you - that may be of some help, though I personally have never seen this happen." As for the magic, well... "The Fae possess the magic you speak of, yes. But there is no Fae who would drain the heart of the forest. None strong enough to do this, besides."

Nature, nurture heaven and home
Sum of all, and by them, driven
To conquer every mountain shown

Table by Sky!

This was one of those times when he wished his guesses were wrong, and his frown deepened in both sympathy and worry at the news. "No pattern?" He murmured, focusing on the problem instead of his feet, and therefore traveling more directly for a change than he normally managed. "Are there any that were alive before the Barrier was raised, who we could ask?" A diplomatic way of saying that she looked young of face, but old in power. He had no idea how long Fae could live, or whether there were others - such as the Tulmhainar Amalia had mentioned - who might have first-hand knowledge. "I did not mean to suggest a Fae was behind it," he apologized. "So much as wondering if they would recognize the type of magic, if such destruction was limited to those who had been contained within the barrier. But since they would, I'm sure they're already considering that angle."

He bit his lip, weighing the bits and pieces of information, and a heavy weight settled in his gut as they refused to form any sort of coherent picture. A possible cause, but no way to prove it. No motive that he could see. And how much of it was his own bias clouding his conjectures?

"If you haven't seen it before, then the human archives may have little to offer," he admitted at last, with a heavy sigh. "But I will look through them anyways. Any small piece that might help is worth pursuing. Thank you, great lady, for your patience." He paused to offer her a gracious bow, careful as always with the respect he showed the powerful Wild Fae. "I hope I will have better news for you when next we meet."

ARDUINNA

Arduinna smiles a predator's smile at the suggestion that he might wish to speak to other Fae. Older Fae. "Call them and find out," she says, her tone suggesting that he might live to regret that decision. She has been cordial thus far, but his insistence on digging deeper into matters which concern him not concern her greatly. The meeting is concluded, and had Jigano not suggested as much, Arduinna would have made it apparent.

"Perhaps check records pertaining to the godling that the barrier was created for," she muttered, turning with a flourish to watch him bow. When he is finished, she dips into a curtsey in return. "Pray that there is better news in general," she agrees, before promptly collapsing into a flurry of pink and yellow petals which carry themselves off on the breeze.

Nature, nurture heaven and home
Sum of all, and by them, driven
To conquer every mountain shown

Table by Sky!