Jigano could only shrug at Loren’s insistence that everyone – or many people, at least – had believed Edy’s story. It seemed more likely that they hadn’t known what to think when such an earnest and seemingly responsible young man – at least in Jigano’s estimation so far – had disappeared without a word. Edy’s sordid little story wasn’t something they could disprove, so they had simply let it be because, really, who wanted to argue with the firecracker and get their tender bits scorched for the trouble? But he’d arrived after Loren’s disappearance and hadn’t gotten to know most of the Northhaveners until later still, so he could only guess at what they had and hadn’t believed.
Loren didn’t seem to have enough energy to argue with him either, but the stubborn statement proved Jigano’s point nicely, the bard thought, and simply hummed a quiet agreement with the scholar’s morality. Names were a far more fraught topic, though, and he had to bite his tongue against the snort of ‘last, best hopes.’ Hadn’t Loren just said he wasn’t the only one left? The children would grow, if they survived. Freeing them to a fresh legacy seemed kinder to him, but his family had never tried to chain him and enslave him the way the Launceleyns did to their offspring, so perhaps he simply had different priorities. ”Ah well. That’s one way to look at it,” the bard said obliquely, though he thought that charting a new course free of the torture of the past was making it worth it, rather than for naught. What better way to show that Loren had learned a new way to live, to be better than what had come before, then by repudiating the darkness and claiming a new light? But they were different men, with very different pasts, and he left it with a quiet: ”I just hope that you’re able to hold to that desire to ‘be a better Launceleyn’ when Zariah returns and demands that you fall back in line again.” No, he had not forgotten the shadow of the Queen who had turned that name to ashes in the minds of so many of the barrierfolk. She had, if nothing else, left a hell of an impression.
”Mmm. Physically weak, perhaps. Stupid? That is what I find hard to believe.” Being smart and being wise were two different things. Loren was bright, quick, and creative, as he’d proven with how he wielded his magic. He might not always chose the wisest way to wield that intelligence, but he was also young in the bard’s estimation, and wisdom was rarely something inborn.
And then it was Loren’s turn to grill him, and Jigano felt his lips twitch towards a smile as the scholar proved his estimation of the man’s intelligence correct yet again. ”Not the same thing that it on other worlds, I’ve been finding,” he answered easily to the first question. ”An Oracle is one who is born with a connection to the divine, and the magic that comes from it. It’s not chosen or learned. But the connection is also… unstable. Unprotected,” he admitted with a faint grimace. ”A priest or cleric might choose a god or pantheon to worship and be accepted by them, granted divine magic with no downside. An oracle can channel divine magic without being tied to a specific deity, but the price is often steep… all the more so for not having a choice in the matter.” He tugged his braid lightly again, his smile turning wry. ”We’re often visibly marked in some way, though not all the same. White hair and blue eyes tends to run in the Oracles of my family.” There were far worse ways to be marked. Really, he had been lucky in the side effects of his heritage.
”Mysteries are what we call the paths an Oracle is drawn towards,” he continued, amused at the small cascade of questions all in a row. ”Life or Lore, Fire or Nature, War or Dark Tapestry… they are not all nice paths,” he warned. ”And it’s a question for the philosophers whether one’s personality is shaped by their Mystery, or whether their soul chooses it at birth. Each Oracle’s path is unique, though. There are no schools, nor really teachers. We have to study and find faith in ourselves and our abilities as well as divine sources of inspiration. We often serve as mediators between the mortal and the divine in a more neutral way than clerics do.” He shrugged lightly, though there was a seriousness in his eyes as he remembered the promises he had made. ”A Lore Keeper is an Oracle of Lore who gains as much or more of their knowledge and power from tales, songs, and poems than from books. Ideally, knowledge that we gather is shared with those who it can help, but sometimes… some knowledge can be dangerous. A Lore Keeper spends their life saving knowledge not only to share, but also to hold in trust for the future if it is not yet time to let it be widely known.” And, oh, there was an arrogance in that assumption, and it was possible to be too cautious and to withhold too much or the wrong thing. Having divine magic wasn’t the same thing as having divine wisdom, after all.
”Bardic magics are spells that rely on voice or performance, of course!” He almost grinned, regretting keenly the lack of energy that kept him from his more flamboyant display of his past. Not that he had much but sleight of hand to call on now… his humor faded as he sighed and shook his head. ”Spells to calm emotions, to inspire feats of great strength in allies, to strike fear into enemies… or to protect the minds of my friends from enemy spells that seek to confuse or frighten them in turn. Spells, too, to turn sound into a physical weapon, or even to create miniature portals of my own.” His smile was a bitter thing as he looked away. ”Caido stripped those from me when I passed through the Voice’s portal, alas. And the magics of this world are very different from those I had once mastered.”
Loren didn’t seem to have enough energy to argue with him either, but the stubborn statement proved Jigano’s point nicely, the bard thought, and simply hummed a quiet agreement with the scholar’s morality. Names were a far more fraught topic, though, and he had to bite his tongue against the snort of ‘last, best hopes.’ Hadn’t Loren just said he wasn’t the only one left? The children would grow, if they survived. Freeing them to a fresh legacy seemed kinder to him, but his family had never tried to chain him and enslave him the way the Launceleyns did to their offspring, so perhaps he simply had different priorities. ”Ah well. That’s one way to look at it,” the bard said obliquely, though he thought that charting a new course free of the torture of the past was making it worth it, rather than for naught. What better way to show that Loren had learned a new way to live, to be better than what had come before, then by repudiating the darkness and claiming a new light? But they were different men, with very different pasts, and he left it with a quiet: ”I just hope that you’re able to hold to that desire to ‘be a better Launceleyn’ when Zariah returns and demands that you fall back in line again.” No, he had not forgotten the shadow of the Queen who had turned that name to ashes in the minds of so many of the barrierfolk. She had, if nothing else, left a hell of an impression.
”Mmm. Physically weak, perhaps. Stupid? That is what I find hard to believe.” Being smart and being wise were two different things. Loren was bright, quick, and creative, as he’d proven with how he wielded his magic. He might not always chose the wisest way to wield that intelligence, but he was also young in the bard’s estimation, and wisdom was rarely something inborn.
And then it was Loren’s turn to grill him, and Jigano felt his lips twitch towards a smile as the scholar proved his estimation of the man’s intelligence correct yet again. ”Not the same thing that it on other worlds, I’ve been finding,” he answered easily to the first question. ”An Oracle is one who is born with a connection to the divine, and the magic that comes from it. It’s not chosen or learned. But the connection is also… unstable. Unprotected,” he admitted with a faint grimace. ”A priest or cleric might choose a god or pantheon to worship and be accepted by them, granted divine magic with no downside. An oracle can channel divine magic without being tied to a specific deity, but the price is often steep… all the more so for not having a choice in the matter.” He tugged his braid lightly again, his smile turning wry. ”We’re often visibly marked in some way, though not all the same. White hair and blue eyes tends to run in the Oracles of my family.” There were far worse ways to be marked. Really, he had been lucky in the side effects of his heritage.
”Mysteries are what we call the paths an Oracle is drawn towards,” he continued, amused at the small cascade of questions all in a row. ”Life or Lore, Fire or Nature, War or Dark Tapestry… they are not all nice paths,” he warned. ”And it’s a question for the philosophers whether one’s personality is shaped by their Mystery, or whether their soul chooses it at birth. Each Oracle’s path is unique, though. There are no schools, nor really teachers. We have to study and find faith in ourselves and our abilities as well as divine sources of inspiration. We often serve as mediators between the mortal and the divine in a more neutral way than clerics do.” He shrugged lightly, though there was a seriousness in his eyes as he remembered the promises he had made. ”A Lore Keeper is an Oracle of Lore who gains as much or more of their knowledge and power from tales, songs, and poems than from books. Ideally, knowledge that we gather is shared with those who it can help, but sometimes… some knowledge can be dangerous. A Lore Keeper spends their life saving knowledge not only to share, but also to hold in trust for the future if it is not yet time to let it be widely known.” And, oh, there was an arrogance in that assumption, and it was possible to be too cautious and to withhold too much or the wrong thing. Having divine magic wasn’t the same thing as having divine wisdom, after all.
”Bardic magics are spells that rely on voice or performance, of course!” He almost grinned, regretting keenly the lack of energy that kept him from his more flamboyant display of his past. Not that he had much but sleight of hand to call on now… his humor faded as he sighed and shook his head. ”Spells to calm emotions, to inspire feats of great strength in allies, to strike fear into enemies… or to protect the minds of my friends from enemy spells that seek to confuse or frighten them in turn. Spells, too, to turn sound into a physical weapon, or even to create miniature portals of my own.” His smile was a bitter thing as he looked away. ”Caido stripped those from me when I passed through the Voice’s portal, alas. And the magics of this world are very different from those I had once mastered.”
