twilight crawling through windowpanes

The description of the old magic he used to have is something completely foreign to her, she can scarcely imagine a world of benevolence like that. Safrin's anger, on the other hand, is completely understandable, and her eyes soften with understanding. Something she fears terribly. Something that haunts her every time she lays an offering at a shrine, more fearful of an answer than hopeful. "Benevolence is not something we get as Abandoned." Short and sweet. A reality he must face now that he has magic. Though perhaps he already knows that, if he has been in Caido for so long.

Nevertheless, she manages a weak smile for him when he promises to be careful. It's all she can ask for. "And if you're not, just come find me. I'll patch you right up." It's weak by way of teasing, weighed down by the general tone of their conversation, but it's offered sincerely. Evie has a feeling he's the type to get into trouble. Whether that's because she simply knows how far his name has traveled or a feeling she gets, it's a concern that she knows will continue to haunt her whenever she thinks of him.

Evie cannot bear to look him in the eye as she speaks of her past, even in the least amount of detail she can manage while still being truthful. Misses the expression he sends her way, the empathy that softens his face. All she can hear is the buzz in her ears when he mentions Sam, and she feels her eyes burn. Whether the tears or caused by anger or sorrow is beyond her in that moment. "No. Even now he still believes I'm an Accepted, that I was born blessed and that our parents favored me over him. Which they did, I won't deny. But only because they refused to see that I was Abandoned." It feels weird to be talking about this with someone other than Amalia, especially so frankly. But it's like she can't stop. "I've thought about telling him lately, as I've...developed new magic against my will. Which means it's growing, and it will be all the harder to hide it. But I don't think I can." He's smart enough to infer why, the gist of why they had never been close. But she lifts her eyes desperately to his, suddenly fearful. "Please, don't tell him."

He found a wry smile for her honesty, taking reassurance in her forthright way of putting things. She didn't dance around hard truths the way he did, and for that he was grateful. The empathy in her eyes was comfort enough in this time of curses and the reordering of his world as everything he thought he knew about his future on Caido was suddenly as jumbled as a child's box of blocks. Her offer of help might have been teasing, but there was relief in his gaze as his smile became something less pained and more sincere and he nodded gladly. "I'd prefer to just find you for conversation and a soothing cup of tea," he admitted. "Isla was teaching me medicine and healing of the, ah, more usual nature before she... passed." His expression grew momentarily sad, but a year's separation from the event had softened the edges of the loss, and his smile returned within a heartbeat. "And I've been meaning to continue my study of herbs and medicinal plants here. I was hoping you could maybe teach me what things to keep an eye out for?" He looked down at his hand, flexing his fingers wryly before glancing up again as his smile took on its more usual wry quirk. "As... convenient, I suppose, as this power could be, I don't want to rely on it too much in case it vanishes as quickly as it appeared." Or if he was too exhausted or burned out to summon the energy. Sometimes the old-fashioned way was the only option in an emergency.

Sam was a delicate subject, and Jigano held himself still as Evie began to speak of her brother. He nodded slowly as what she said added depth and detail to what Sam had told him of his family life. She had carried a different burden than he had, but no less heavy for being hidden. He stayed quiet as she continued, and at the fear in her eyes he nodded gravely, pressing a hand to his heart. "I won't," he said gravely. "I promise." He hesitated a moment, then cleared his throat a little awkwardly. "Ah, I actually found an old journal on magic from some old historian who once studied the Abandoned. I'd be happy to share what I learned from it with you, if you'd like an idea of how things might continue developing in the future?" With such a touchy subject he didn't know if she'd prefer to try and avoid talking about it or if she'd rather face the possibilities head-on, but he would leave the decision up to her. "Whenever you want," he added hurriedly. "You don't have to make a decision on that today. The Guildhall will always be open to you, of course, and I won't share any of what you tell me without your permission." He might have founded the Loreseekers' Guild after all, but there was a reason he was a lorekeeper.

"I'm sorry for your loss" she says softly, automatically. It's a condolence that is hammered into every Natural, too used to death and not being able to say goodbyes to those who are shepherded away to Mort far too early. It doesn't reduce her sincerity, but every time she speaks it her soul feels a little heavier. As it had when she was a child, staring at the dome and wondering if she would ever be free.

Though she's approving of his desire not to lean too heavily on his magic, even if it humbles her that he asks for her knowledge at all. "I...well I'm sure Phoebe and the College are great resources as well," she offers, unsure why he didn't think to pursue that route instead. "But I'd be happy to teach you what I know." Especially with the offer of tea and company on the table. It would go a long way to easing her loneliness.

His assurances, their gravity impressive, folds her in on herself like her strings have been cut. It's more than a relief, it's the removal of years of anxiety defending her secret from those who would hate her for the way she was born. And Sam knowing of all people would ruin her life faster than anything else could hope to. "Thank you," she says, voice raw and trembling with gratitude. But she has to shake her head at his offer, even if it's more of a tremble than a definitive shake of her head. "I don't...I'm not ready yet. But someday, someday soon. I'd like to read it." She has come so far on the path of accepting herself, but she's not ready to delve into firsthand accounts. Not yet. "It means a lot, that you won't tell. And I won't either, if that's what you'd like." He had been an Attuned for so long, perhaps he's reluctant to break that image of himself now. Evie will respect his choice if that's the case.{/b}

"Thank you," he murmured back, just as automatically. He had mourned enough that the pain was no longer bright and jagged but a quiet ache, softened by time and coming to terms with his loss. Isla had taught him of medicine without magic, expanding his own knowledge and proving herself a good teacher, an excellent guildmember, and a dear friend.

"They are, but they're also mostly Outlanders from what I've seen," he admitted with a wry, deprecating smile. "Like me. I recognize some plants from my own world here, and I've done my best to study the herbals and books on local flora in the Atheneum, but they can't replace someone who lives here and knows these plants and their uses. Your knowledge would be a great gift." He hesitated, unsure if he should press further in the moment, but they were still building the framework for what he hoped would be a stronger friendship as time went on. And they would have time, of that he was determined. "And if there's anything the Loreseekers can help you with, you have only to ask me and I'll handle it discretly." He added the last with a quirked smile, knowing Sam and Evie's fraught relationship.

It was a glimpse of the conversation's shift as Evie grew worried of Sam's discovering her secret, but if he did it wouldn't be from Jigano. The provost held the secrets given into his care close and shared them with none, not without permission. It was why he had been so afraid of the Attuned telepathic bond at first, rejecting it with every ounce of his will out of fear that others might be able to lift those secrets from his thoughts. Time and training had taught him to shield everything but that he wished to consciously share, however, and now only the gods could see what he would never say aloud.

He watched with concern as Evie curled inwards and he stretched a hand towards her in concern, but hesitated before touching her. He no longer shied away from such contact as he once had, but it was still strange and uncomfortable to try and initiate it himself. "It will be waiting, whenever you want it. Or even if you never do," he assured gently. He let his hand fall slowly, his lopsided smile returning at her own offer. "I draw far too much attention to myself to hide such a thing for long," he admitted wryly. "And it was so common on my world that I never needed to learn to hide it. Even if I tried I don't think I would manage it beyond a few weeks at most. Perhaps don't offer the information freely, but if someone asks or already seems to know about it, you don't need to lie or make excuses for me."

Evie never expected her Natural status to lend credence to her skills, but pride blossoms in her chest uncontrollably when it does. A bright smile is directed Jigano's way. "Then I would be happy to help. I have a few hand written journals from my mentor, and even more from my younger years. It would be a good start?" She had already memorized the material from those early days, and it feels only right to offer it to Jigano now. Considering his station, the Guild he runs, it's the best kind of gift she can provide.

He returns the favor with his promise of discretion, and her smile is relieved in ways she can't properly translate into words. Perhaps she will see out the Guild before she is of need of them. If only to satisfy her own curiosity about them.

Evie doesn't recoil from his touch, paused though it is before landing. Nor does she lean forward into it. Time will turn their tentative friendship into something stronger perhaps, but for now she faults neither of them for their hesitation. "Then I'll keep it to myself, unless it becomes relevant. Thank you...so few have ever known about this cur-" her words slam to a halt, recalling Dante's words, his childlike but sincere insistence that magical users should be considered gifted. "My magic. It's enough just to be able to talk about it out loud." No matter how difficult.

Her smile would be gift enough, but her offer of journals lights up Jigano's face in turn as he nods eagerly. "A wonderful start!" He assured her warmly. "Such things are the foundations of the Loreseekers." Gathered wisdom brought together so those who wanted to access the knowledge and information of the past and present could come to one central location to do so. The Provost was beaming and it seemed only right to offer the Guild's services in exchange for such a donation. Given what had happened today, and her family name, discretion was the least he could do for her, but he would keep any secrets she asked of him, on his honor and position.

His touch was light and brief. He offered comfort, just enough to let her know that he would support her, then withdrew before it lingered too long. "It can be a curse," he agreed softly, catching the word she changed. It had, after all, been how he had received his magic. "But it doesn't have to be. Or at least, we don't have to let it be. And who knows? Maybe in the lands beyond the barrier it won't be seen as one." The Hollowed Grounds had been so isolated and twisted by the barrier and the old gods' resentment for their imprisonment that perhaps the views in the world beyond weren't as skewed. It was worth hoping for, at least.

He rose and offered her his hand to help her up as well, glancing up at the brightly-shining moon above with a wry smile. "May I escort you back to town? Or anywhere else, before I head back to the farm?" She knew the dangers of walking alone in the Grounds even better than he did, though at least LongNight and its monsters were passed for another year. If she wished to continue her stroll alone he would let her, but he wouldn't just abandon her if she was ready to return home once more. He might have fangs and talons and wings to protect him - or let him run from trouble - but her healing magic would be unlikely to deter a spring-starved wolf or wicker woman's embrace if she had the bad luck to stumble across one.

Evie may not have come by her studiousness naturally, but Amalia's mother and her own years of frustration over complex, needlessly winding tomes to guide her knowledge had shaped her mind into something similar. She can't help her grin at the comparison of her small efforts to the Loreseekers, feeling complimented nonetheless. "Flatterer, keep saying such things and I'll wake up one day and all my journals will have mysteriously found their way to you over the seasons!" A tease and nothing more, but one she hopes will lift them both from the grips of such dire conversation.

She can't help how she signs and turns her gaze away as he catches he slip of the tongue. "And yet nobody can even agree on whether we should explore those lands or not. So maybe we'll never know. Perception of Abandoned people may change over time, as it is now with so many magical Outlanders, but it's slow. And I'm afraid I won't live to see that equality in a way that matters to me as a Natural." Shaking her auburn head to dispel the politics and faith from it, she shoves it aside. It's not something she wants to delve into late at night as the cold creeps in. She has taken up enough of his time.

Evie takes his offered hand with a demure smile, sincere but more habitual than anything else. She certainly won't deny his company and subsequent safety in added numbers. "My apothecary, if it's not too out of your way. All the better to find me later for those journals." And with a wink to underscore that particular sentiment, she sets off into the woods with him back towards home.

{Fin!}