open | Seek and Receive

Nursing down the cup of tea, Mel listened in contemplative silence pat pat pating the gryphlet gently as she did so. It sound relatively straightforward to her - Zariah must have encouraged some sort of good faith in her ability to lead but the points raised were undeniable roadblocks. Zariah sounded not as though she were working for the betterment of their situation here in Caido but rather a means of propping up whatever legacy of Northhaven had been brought here by whatever force had drawn them in. "Intentions, actions and consequences are all separate things. It's not as though a government could hurt but it certainly sounds like she hasn't gone about it in a decent way at all - a pity that. A bit of structure is probably exactly what this place needs." The pill the dose was in, however, seemed extremely difficult not just for her to swallow, but anyone. The witch did not believe her immediate instinct to do exactly what she was told not to do was unique, though the warning of jail did remind her of the benefits of one exercising a bit of caution. Mirroring the presumed arrogance of their tyrant queen would earn her no favors... not yet.

Flinthopper fires, Sparkbird perch, Deepfrost, Fiat Lux... Mentally she filed the words away and hoped that she'd recall them.

Taking another sip she set the cup, now only a quarter full, aside. "I'll take the books - perhaps it would be of a benefit to us all to sort out a new map as well though the matter of a blight seems more pressing. Still, there are bodies and I presume things that they might be willing to trade their time and effort for - we won't need to to be fully fledged cartographers, only observant and curious." It wouldn't be perfect, but it would give them some place to start. Still, Melinoe did not know what she could barter. She wondered how valuable knowledge might be, not only to others but herself as well. What would she be willing to share? Without answers, she relaxed again into a calm, conversational tone, melting into the cushions of the chair, fixing her dark gaze on Jigano.

"Who, or what, brought the barrier down, anyway?"

"A gentler government was tried, once, not that long ago. It sort of fizzled out without really taking off, though." He shrugged. "The people here are not of a type to really like being governed. There are too many differences, perhaps, or simply a matter of it not really being in anyone's blood. In the records I've been through, the land within the barrier hasn't really had a functional government in centuries. I won't say they've gotten on 'just fine' without one, but they've learned to manage, and have become fiercely proud of their independence." He tilted a wry smile at his petite friend. "And no few of us Outlanders feel the same. I've toppled governments and I've helped enthrone new ones... but I've never really been one for acknowledging that they have any authority over me, and I'd rather not start now."

His smile grew, as did his amusement, as she took on a regal quality, whether she realized what she was doing or not. "'Us'?" he repeated, bemused. "'We?' Your enthusiasm is gratifying, Melinoe, though if you wish to hire my Guild to help you with your map we should discuss what you can offer in trade." His chuckle was good-natured, but the smiling man was a bard, not a rug, and he sat in his Hall with a silver brow arched in curiosity. Drawing her a map could be done easily enough; Sam and Amalia between them, who had lived here all their lives, could probably scribe a fairly accurate map, augmented by his own explorations and those of Caiside, too. But they kept such knowledge largely in their heads, as did most of those who had lived there long enough. It wasn't as though the Settlement was that large, not compared to cities he had known back on his world.

"Don't make Zariah's mistake," he warned her quietly, some of his humor fading. "Who would a map benefit? What purpose would it serve to those who have lived here all their lives, and already have that knowledge in their heads?"

He sat back, and Isuma raised her head solemnly, wriggling as the rhythmic patting grew uncomfortable. She hopped down to the floor and scampered over to a basket with a pillow on it, near the hearth, curling up to watch the humans with wide golden eyes as she made herself at home in her little nest.

"Mmm. The answer to that question is a more complicated one," he admitted with a smile. "Three...no, four groups were required for that to happen, and several deaths. One of which was only... temporary," he said with a slight chuckle for the cheerful demigod.

"A map is hardly a conscription, Jigano, and besides, who said I was hiring you?" There was no animosity in her words, but rather a firm reminder than she might have relied on charity upon her arrival, but she was not simply an open hand. She had certainly used the language that could have been construed as inclusive, however the quick calm with which she responded suggested with a touch of bemusement that she trusted her ability to find support for her cause. "Arrivals are still, well, arriving - without the barrier, I presume there will be the potential to receive travelers from outside the city as well. If you cannot see the benefit a map of the ruins might serve a community growing within them, native or not, I will not force you but do not read assumptions into my words." Though her voice belied no shiver of emotion, there was a sharpness about her language that suggested an unyielding confidence in her own resourceful nature.

She was glad when the conversation steered again to the barrier, though sad to see the gryphlet go - hands empty she rubbed her hands together and considered the magnitude of force it must have taken to dislodge the magical wall. "Great accomplishments take great sacrifice." For someone practically risen from the grave herself, the concept of a second life did not seem overly astounding or out of place. In fact, she was taking this being ripped from the jaws of death thing rather well. Rubbing the place between her eyebrows, pushing her hair back and offering a sober smile. "How did that come about? The barrier, the groups... the death and resurrection?" More important to her was the context that knowing the full story of the barrier might lend to her blight inquest. Gathering the cup into her empty lap she curled about it looking every part ready for story time with Jigano.

"You did, unless you were using the royal 'we'," Jigano pointed out, amused. "And Zariah might want to have a word with you about that, if it was." He didn't know the woman well, but his single personal interaction with her had left his hackles raised against her ever since, and seeing how Edy and Remi fawned on her had cemented his mistrust and dislike of her even before this 'tyrant' business. "If you wish to create a map, I don't imagine that anyone will stop you, but in a settlement of this size you can usually just ask where things are," he said  kindly. "Maps are useful for traveling long distances, between cities, but within a town?" It was a curious concept, and one he had trouble wrapping his head around. "For all my traveling around Numeria, I only saw maps for traveling cross-country, or when exploring an underground or labyrinthine area. Those, the Guild has already begun compiling," he acknowledged. Though it would be interesting to see how far her Outlander haughtiness took her with the locals... and how swiftly Zariah would seize upon such an idea as a way of consolidating further control over the area. A depressing thought...

Sacrifice? Oh, she had no idea, and Jigano's amusement had faded at the memory of the slain. He watched her reposition herself, thoughtful as he considered what her previous comments indicated about her as a person. She was eager to take, but he was not so sure she was willing to return it back around again. Eager to read, yes, but he was uncertain what her reasons were for that acceptance of his suggestion. There would be much to wait and see about with this one. "The Spire was defended by a powerful creature," he began, weighing how much to share. Information was his guild's commodity, usually traded for favors later - such as the renovations going on upstairs to repair the building. But given her sharp attitude from before, he was uncertain how far to rely on her. Still, he had his duty, self-appointed though it was. "Before the Spire could be approached, a group had to slay the beast. That cost one man his life - temporarily. He was favored by the goddess Safrin and she turned him into a star for a time, rather than releasing his soul to the keeper of the dead." His expression grew neutral and closed off as he continued: "Many among the Naturals did not want the Spire to be breached, or the barrier brought down. The Gods had placed it there for a reason, after all, and they respected the wishes of their gods. Others wished to study the Spire and to proceed slowly, wanting to be freed from the barrier but wanting to fully understand the consequences and price of doing so before they acted. And some wished for the Spire and Barrier to be brought down, regardless of cost or consequence." He tilted his head, arching a brow at Melinoe and giving her a moment to consider which group she might have fallen into.

"In the end, despite the fracturing of the population into those three groups, it was the latter who got their way. The Voice gave her Ascended children the keys to unlocking the Spire, and a number of people entered the Spire with the intention to bring down the Barrier... Zariah being one of them," he acknowledged with a cooling of his voice. "Later, others - myself included - went in to drag out and save those we could reach, who had gotten in over their heads, but by then the damage was already done. People were dead, the cage that held the Voice was broken with the death of yet another, and the goddess who had brought the world to war three hundred years ago was freed."

He hesitated, eyes narrowing as he cocked a brow at Melinoe. "And soon after, a mysterious blight struck the Greatwood, one that hadn't existed before our barrier fell." And let her draw the conclusions from that bit of knowledge that she would.

The witch offered no response but a patient smile, though she seemed unwilling to share on the matter much further. As if prove this point she settled back, scooping up her cup and cradling it below her chin with both hands, lingering just on the cusp of taking a sip. Her attention slid briefly to Isuma in her basket, clicking her tongue affectionately at the gryphlet.

As the conversation's focus steered back toward the barrier, the patient smile lapsed into a neutral mask, easing the cup down into her lap. The tale made the hair along her nape prickle and stand on end, though she couldn't place the trigger. Eventually, she decided it was disgust. Her lip twitched, gaze narrowing somewhat, indicating she was not entirely impressed by the events of the barrier's fall. Still, if it had been her in that cage... Could she judge? The look of disdain softened back into a calm, if not a bit distant, stare directed toward the fireplace.

She follows the cloven guard, pacing the length of razorsharp bars, an animal caged. Arcane and alien, the words she speaks were never meant for human tongues, and barely rattle past parched lips. "Where is the witch?"

The warden does not look at her, so she repeats herself as her passenger rises, adding animal fury to words that once dripped like poison from her lips. "Where is my sister?"

The fire snaps and it almost reminds her of the crack of a whip. She knows what she'd do, or what she would have done. She turns the cup in her hand, studying the silver scars raised along her hands and forearms. One would be practically invisible. Regardless of cost or consequences.

"Maybe it's a punishment." her voice came somewhat distracted as she studied the scars a moment longer, looking up at him, her chin lifted. "I might not have come from inside the barrier at all, though it won't hurt to look. Surely you could just ask the gods what's going on. They seem... active in the community, from my understanding."

Isuma chirruped back at Melinoe, and Jigano smiled, sipping his own tea as he sent a tendril of thought towards her. She tilted her head, then reep!ed brightly and scampered out of her basket and back towards his office on clicking talons.

He didn't know what had triggered the change in the woman's expression as he told the tale - much abridged, scrubbed of many messy details, and condensed for simplicity - but he made note of it, curious as to what it would say about her. He was far from unbiased from those events, and he knew that such seeped into his telling of it, but the basic facts were true enough for what had occurred, and whether she would have been a protector of the Spire or an attacker would say much for her treatment of others.

"The blight? Perhaps, though it seems unlikely," Jigano pondered the idea. "If we were the ones being punished, I would have expected it to start with our crops and plants. Instead it is the Fae who are being hurt by it, though I can't see what they have done to earn such a thing. They are territorial and fierce and proud, yes, but also seem pious and strongly connected with their Woods. Still, checking for the blight here... it's a good idea. I don't think anyone has really done that yet." Though with her missing eye and wounded leg and difficulty with stairs he wasn't sure she was quite up to it yet, either. Maybe in a few more weeks, though, a walk in the woods would be good therapy for her injuries?

"Have you tried praying to the gods in the Temple Shrine, just outside the Infirmary?" he asked curiously. "Speaking with them might prove enlightening for you, as well." His lips quirked in a wry smile. "Keeping in mind that 'active' doesn't always mean 'helpful' and just because one arrives in response to your prayers doesn't mean they're under any obligation to answer them." He shrugged, listening to the faint clatter of something getting knocked off his desk in the other room and chuckling to himself. "But yes, when other options have been pursued to no avail, asking the gods is a route I am keeping open." Ludo...? No, the soul keeper had already done so much for him, and this was more in the realm of life and nature. Phoebe had offered to approach Frey, so Safrin was the logical choice. Perhaps, once he and Mel had looked through the books, if they still had found nothing he would approach the starlit goddess.

"It very well could be unintentional - perhaps a mechanic of the barrier itself once it fell - it depends largely on who made it, I suppose. Perhaps the gods either do not want to, or cannot compete with what has been unleashed and believe their creation might better benefit from a sort of civil war than their direct involvement. It would certainly put me off if new neighbors moved in and began destroying my home intentionally or not." She could ponder all day the nature of the blight but the point still stood that she had little basis for her understanding of it.

Jigano suggested exactly what she most feared - Mel's gaze shifts between him and what remains of her tea. Caught off guard by the suggestion she herself pray to these deities, there is an internal struggle as she searches for the words to explain her misgivings. It just sounds like a bad idea, like intentionally sticking your arm in a bear trap - she will do many things for knowledge, but does she need to do exactly this? "You said they have no fondness for the Queen's Destined - without knowing, that seems like quite the gamble, calling something that might have some centuries long grudge against a party you have no idea that you even affiliate with." With a wrinkle of her nose she huffs in muted agitation.

He raised a brow at her confident assumptions, her blithe certainty that already she knew better than those who had lived here for seasons - or decades - how their gods thought and acted. Or at least, that was how it came across, whether she intended it or not. He didn't try to correct her, having already offered her what knowledge he could of the deities and a broad brush stroke of the situation at hand. He didn't think she was right, but he didn't have enough information to say for certain that his own hypothesis was correct either. More likely, but not a certainty.

But if she would not listen to him, perhaps meeting the gods themselves would sway her more successfully? A suggestion that was met with a decided lack of enthusiasm, the little witch very nearly squirming - and telling him something he had only suspected before. So she was a mage... "Well, if you are a mage, it's most likely that they'll just not answer you," he admitted with a wry smile. "One of my loreseekers, Maea, is a mage and she developed quite the close relationship with one of the gods. They even cured her blindness," he added, nodding to Melinoe's patched eye. "I won't lie and say 'it couldn't hurt to try,' because it might... but it's just as likely you might impress them. Though, it is most likely you will simply have wasted some time and offerings," he added wryly.

Despite the rather positive outcome if Jigano's antecedent Mel did not appear to be any less suspicious of the practice of prayer. She had once convened with beings of vast power at steep expense - while the adage advised never to look a gift horse in the mouth, Mel still desperately wanted to crank that's pony's jaw open and examine its dental work extensively.

"What do you offer to gods?" Her side twitched where it had been let open by her own hand, and though she expected the bard to admit no horrors, no tales of still beating hearts or souls, she did not trust him to exactly be telling the truth. This blind willingness to worship stank of frightening zealotry and the potential for unintentional consequences.

"Depends on the god," Jigano said easily, arching a brow at her terseness, but nodded approval at the question nonetheless. There was little point in misleading her; she could always ask someone else to double-check his words, and he had no desire to be implicated in leading her astray should a god actually appear and be displeased with her offering because of something he had said. "For Frey, fresh fruit or flowers make a good offering. Something natural and fresh, at any rate. For Safrin, something beautiful, themed in stars or light to appeal to her pride. For Ludo..." Here he paused, then gave a wry shrug. "Lanterns of some variety are common offerings, but also something filled with treasured memories, however humble it might be. For naturals, a childhood toy is common. For outlanders, something with personal meaning or a connection to the past, though we tend to have far fewer of such things. That does make them dearer, though, and suitable as offerings to a god."

His smile quirked a little higher as a triumphant peep slipped into his thoughts, and a moment later a feathered form came bounding out of his office with something clutched in her beak. She brought it to him, landing in his lap lightly, wings spread for balance and then folding neatly, and he took the object she held with blue eyes that glinted brightly at Melinoe as he held it up. "Something like this, perhaps. I had my... friend make a new sheath for it so Isuma wouldn't cut herself accidentally on it before you could claim it," he explained with a little smile, hesitating only slightly over the word 'friend' as though it wasn't wrong, but wasn't quite right, either.

In his hand of course was Melinoe's lost knife, now in a simple but dapper black sheath. He stretched to offer it to her as Isuma wriggled with excitement in his lap, both watching the little witch's expression curiosly.

The list seemed too... gentle for the concept of gods that she had in mind. Except for the lanterns. Her head tipped to the side at the mention of lanterns. She'd mouth the name - Ludo - as Isuma arrived, a sleek bullet of feathers and fur having landed neatly in his lap, wings flared. Immediately she crooned approval for the apparent fetch job performed by the gryphlet, levity returned to her mood as she squinted at the object that Jigano held aloft. "Oh!"

Stretching forward she took the knife in hand, turning it over to inspect the sheathe, carefully thumbing the stitching and seams as a gentle grin curled on her lips, replacing the look of wary mistrust. She hugged the dagger to her chest protectively. That he had given it back to her - in a new sheathe and in excellent condition no less! It was a favor - one of a number the bard was racking up with the witch.

"Glad to see you trust me with a knife." She cradled it fondly, as though he might attempt to take it back again since she had reminded him that first impressions about her blade safety had not been exactly good. "Thank you."

Jigano sat back as Melinoe cooed over Isuma and the gryphlet's gift of the lost blade. He set aside his empty tea mug, watching with a small smile of pride as the little witch admired the work he had done to clean the blade, and that Rory had done on the sheath. He had, admittedly, hoped that without the head wound she'd be a bit less... well. And yet here they were, and he was honor bound to return the knife. Seeing the look of joy on her face even made it worthwhile, and his lips quirked wryly at her joke.

"A lady should have something to defend herself with in this world," he murmured, blue eyes sparkling. "And you're welcome." He stroked Isuma's back and wings, the little gryphon chortling in glee at the attention from both people in the room. "Is there anything else I can help you with today?"

Mel shook her head slowly as she scooted to the edge of her seat and unfastened the buckle of the belt, feeding the end of the leather strap through the loop on the back of the sheathe, securing it at her left hip. "I'm glad we agree on that. Though I hope not to be getting into trouble any time soon that would require a knife, you never know, do you?" Fastening the belt again she dragged herself to her feet, shifting to test her balance.

"I've enjoyed your company, Jigano, and it's good to have friends in times and places such as these." Carefully she adjusted the sheathe on her hip snuggled against its outland twin. "It sounds as though I have quite a bit of reading to get to, however. Would you mind helping me up the stairs? I can collect the rest tomorrow when I return." Taking a breath she squared her shoulders, fondly rubbing her thumb along the hilt of the dagger.

"Indeed we do not," he agreed solemnly, though he was still smiling. The smile faded a bit as he glanced towards the stairs, and the world outside his Guild Hall. "Especially in these... unsettled times." Shaking his head, he rose and shifted Isuma back to his shoulder so they could escort Melinoe back towards the table.

"Friends are always welcome here," he said, a little warmth coming back to his expression as he went to collect a few of the books - histories and records of previous harvests and diseases and farmers journals, mostly. Dry reading, but important if they were to narrow down a similar blight in the Hollowed Grounds in previous years, and he tucked them under one arm. "And... the Loreseekers Guild can always use someone with a keen mind and love of reading," he added slowly, considering his words as he made the offer. Melinoe had struck a few small sparks with him, voicing differing ideas and holding to her own path in the face of his disagreement with her plans. It certainly didn't make for the easiest foundation, but on the other hand the Guild could use some alternative viewpoints, something to shake them up.

"No need to answer now. With things shifting as they are, the future is difficult to plan too far ahead for. But please consider the invitation extended." He smiled and offered her his free arm to escort her back up the stairs.