Lessons in Prayer
“The trick to dealing with the boys,” Song said, “is to never take them too seriously. But don’t tell them I said that,” she added with a wink. Sissay looked worried. She wasn’t too sure what she’d do if Caelan asked her exactly what Song had said, and all sorts of suddenly horrid permutations ran through her head.
“Oh, great. Thanks,” she said, her tone dripping sarcasm. “Because I need something else to worry about, as if suddenly having to take over here, and manage servants, and finding out my father’s a god aren’t enough to worry about.”
Song shrugged them away. “That’s nothing to worry about,” she said. “That’s just enabling you to take charge, under our direction. Now, I know it’s strange to you, but I also know you’re the most capable person here and I trust that you’ll be able to handle it not barely, but well.” Her voice dropped to a soft tone and she touched Sissay’s shoulder gently. All of it was true, Song knew, but she also sensed the concern vibrating through the young woman’s body. Caelan had made it pretty clear what was going on and Sissay had taken it on board. Song just needed to help her get used to the idea – as well as impart a few notions more.
A pair of patrolling militiamen kept a discreet distance as the women walked towards the mine. “Now this, I do need you to take seriously,” Song said, gesturing to the small altar at the mine’s entrance. “There’s a few things you could do with knowing about keeping gods on side. You’ve got biology on your side of course, but your people don’t.”
Sissay looked worried at the comment about ‘her people’. Song continued as if she hadn’t dropped it into conversation to keep Sissay focused. “While prayers by the community as a whole are essential, smaller dedications when people enter or leave the mine are important, too. It reminds them that they’re always a part of Teo’s strength. A simple prayer or offering at the start of a shift, and thanks for their safety and plentiful supply of jade on their return will keep him in mind and Teo will reward them for their gratitude.”
Sissay had a lot of questions and Song did her best to answer them as they walked around the mine entrance and watched the guards settling Olvir’s new gate in place. Song was relieved: Sissay might not be the strongest leader the community could have but she was asking the right questions and she was confident the young woman would grow into it quickly. After they’d covered the proper offerings to be made and how to help Teo’s influence spread, she concluded the lesson for the day. Sissay headed back to the main house with a thoughtful look on her face. Song watched her go before heading out of the village into the woods. Duty done. Now, time to hunt.
Lessons in Hunting
Song thought about heading back to find Caelan but ignored it. He was doing fine – almost too well. She wondered where his sudden decisiveness had come from – perhaps a gift of his Exaltation? She considered asking Olvir to join her too but saw him heading in the direction of the forge and left him to it. She waited until she reached the treeline before shifting into her lynx form. It felt as natural to her as breathing, yet she couldn't deny it was a world away from anything she’d have thought natural a few days before, and could understand why people reacted with such shock. Ah, they'd learn. But there was no reason to make them all learn that lesson straight away and the Jadespike militia had enough to worry about for now.
The woodland birds had begun their evening chorus as she padded through the undergrowth, catching a thousand different scents on the wind and letting the gentle breeze ruffle at her fur. Twilight was the perfect ground for hunting but she spent a little time stalking mice in the long grass before setting her mind to larger prey and beginning the hunt, silent feet moving gently through the forest, tracking the deer herd, her thoughts on its matriarch. They were quietly grazing in a clearing and Song snuck closer, preparing for the final leap to claim her prize.
Suddenly one deer looked up, startled, and spotted her and yelped a high pitched alarm. The herd leapt away, gone in an instant, leaving nothing but waving branches in their wake. Song sat up, miffed. It took her a moment to acknowledge that being in lynx form didn't necessarily make her any better at hunting. She cursed Caelan under her breath for his ease at bringing down prey and was forced to accept that knowing the place, purpose and preparation method of virtually every plant in the East was of limited usefulness when it came to hunting deer.
However, Song was nothing if not determined and Luna's waxing light dappling the ground in front of her helped her refocus on the hunt. Choosing a better path, she followed the trail deep into the forest concentrating this time on the woods themselves as well as her place in them. It might take all night but she’d bring her prey to ground.
Lessons in Alchemy
She returned to camp as Luna crested the midheaven, her blood full of the exhilaration of the hunt and her spirit enlivened by the new from she’d taken. She stepped carefully into her wagon half expecting Caelan to be asleep on the thick rug on the floor. He wasn’t there. Of course not. He’d be in the tavern. He’d only slept in her wagon once. Why would she be surprised? It was the skittishness of the deer in her blood, perhaps. She undressed and slipped on a loose caftan and sat down in her usual spot to meditate, leaning back against the worn wooden cabinet which held her alchemical supplies. It took a while to focus her mind but the years of discipline helped her overcome the fire in the blood. Slowly she sank into a peaceful half-trance from where she could clearly assimilate her new animal form, turning it over in her mind, feeling its nature and allowing it to become a part of her own.
She stood, calm and serene, and turned to her alchemical work. A preparation of leaves stood steeping in alcohol and she judged by the dark colour the process was complete. She carefully drained the precious liquid into a new flask, muttering the procedure under her breath like a magical incantation. The recipe she used was written in the large, ancient tome which sat to her left, the work of many generations, but she didn’t need to consult it this time; she knew this recipe by heart. She’d never made it in such a quantity before but Jadespike would need it if they were under threat.
She reached for a small box containing an onyx powder - the magical catalyst – before pausing, focusing on the flask and infusing it with a little of her own Essence instead. The liquid frothed up immediately spilling over her hand and onto the worksurface – hmm, perhaps a little too much power, there. Still… she tentatively licked a finger. Well, it tasted right, and indeed better than she’d made before. With a mental note to update her tome, she began filling small vials carefully from a dropper, sealing each with wax and caching them away in a straw-lined box ready to give to Sill in the morning.
Lessons in Family
A single deer walked alone in the forest, nibbling here and there at the odd leaf. She was a fine specimen, a female in her prime, and any hunter would be proud of claiming her. Ordinarily it would be unusual to find such an animal walking alone in the woods but this one was... different.
Song revelled in being the deer. Each new shape added so much more than simply a different form, the creatures she took became a part of her. Before the sun melted the frost from the grass this morning she wanted to track down the rest of the herd and see quite how convincing she could be. She found them not too far from where she’d taken down the matriarch of the herd the previous night, grazing and resting in the sun – at least, most of them were. One small fawn was bleating piteously and searching for its mother and as Song entered the clearing its distressed cries changed from plaintive to insistent. It flew across the space between them on still-gangly legs and pushed up against her side, shaking and chill to the touch from a night spent alone and demanding attention from its mother.
Slowly, painfully, the full consequences of her hunt began to dawn. It was fortunate for the fawn that it didn’t need milk from its mother any more but it was still dependent on... on her. Song turned her head almost by instinct to nuzzle at the fawn. A cold wet nose met hers and snuffled appreciation. Could this frail little life simply be left to die in the forest, a consequence of her actions, her simple desire for a new shape? Oh, she’d be a fool to think her actions could never hurt anyone but this... this was harsh and immediate and currently tucked up tight against her absorbing her warmth. No, she couldn’t leave it.
Her little son needed his mother, but his mother wasn’t there for him any more. Only Song was, and she knew the pain of losing her mother all too well. The fawn wasn’t too sure when she nosed him away from the rest of the herd and led him alone through the forest and whimpered a little at any scented danger, but he trusted its mother. He took a little more convincing to step out into the exposed area around the mine and stopped stock still at the entrance to the palisade but with patience and reassurance he eventually followed her inside. The trio of guards awake on the early morning shift looked on in utter bewilderment at the scene.
Song encouraged the little fawn towards one particular dwelling and the enclosed patch of ground behind it where he stood close to his mother as she scraped at the door with a front hoof. It was opened by a bleary-eyed child, her hair tousled and grubby tear stains lining her cheeks, looking confused by the unexpected visitors. Song dipped her head and nudged at the child’s hand, gently encouraging her to stroke the short, soft fur and as the child’s puzzled expression turned to one of joy at the unexpected touch she nudged the fawn under the child’s hand instead. He was anxious but with the goodwill of his mother he accepted the touch, too innocent yet to fear people and finding unexpected pleasure in the closeness to another young one.
Song took a couple of steps back as the child’s expression blossomed into a wide grin and the fawn bleated appreciatively, pushing at her hand for more attention. This simple act of bringing them together wouldn’t bring either of their mothers back, but perhaps, in their darkest moments, now they’d have each other. She couldn’t do any more and turned, leaping the small fence effortlessly and with two more bounds, become a kite, beating her wings to gain as much height as possible so none would see tears claim her eyes.