Calatheas, Calatheas, What secrets do you keep?”
The experience with their would-be advisor left Nicholas on edge and he found his feet moving faster than his mind, escaping a poor situation before it got poorer. It was an understatement that
Pixie was a resource that would stay abandoned for this year as the thought of interacting with the nauseating amount of pinks and bright lights in her office made him want to tear off his skin. Nicholas preferred the quiet and the calm, sticking with cool tones and cool demeanors because anything else would get you killed. Pixie was basically everything he disliked in a single person and she hadn't bothered to hide how displeased she was with them as well. At least they could agree that their relationship should be aggressively limited.
The greenhouse door swung open and he once again unbuttoned his coat and hung it on the hook, sliding on gardening gloves. The smell of dirt and flora hit him hard and he felt himself. Plants didn't talk at him, had no expectations of casual conversations, didn't skitter around him like a foal just pushing themselves to their feet. They just needed a consistent, even hand and just enough attention to keep pests away from them and their soil damp. He rolled up his sleeves again and started filling the pots he'd cleaned earlier with Jake, layering different types of socks as he did.
Greenhouse, greenhouse, greenhouse. Annika glanced around as she hunted for the greenhouse Croan mentioned. She felt it a little strange that he tasked her with an errand. Maybe he liked her? Or maybe he hated her. The twins seemed a little separate and “other” from the rest of her classmates. She wasn’t sure if it was because they were powerful witches or something else that made them stand apart.
”Ah, there you are.” Annika pushed open the greenhouse door and was assaulted with the potent smell of loam and growing things. Truthfully, Annika was still getting used to the idea of nature. The Everdark didn’t exactly have soil, growing things, and colour like most places on earth. Annika had grown accustomed to the dark, bleakness of her home. It was beautiful, comforting. Nature, on the other hand, was intense and unpredictable. Then again, some would say that about the Everdark. Annika smiled to herself as she wandered further into the greenhouse.
”Nicholas? Professor Croan sent me,” Annika said, tentatively.
Nicholas glanced up from the pot he was sifting soil into. When the door opened, he'd resigned himself to aggressively ignoring whoever wandered in to work on their own projects; so long as they stood far, far away, Nicholas wouldn't snatch their noise and toss it out the window. What he hadn't counted on was the interruption addressing him directly. Croan had sent some member of another coven to what, bother him, irritated him, rile him up? He just sighed. Whatever game was happening here, Nicholas would certainly make sure Croan knew to keep him out of it next time. He gave the girl addressing him a once over and tried to remember who this was. He recognized the face but a name eluded him.
“Yes, that is me.” Nicholas peeled off his gloves and placed them neatly next to his pot, pulling out a flask, unscrewing it, and taking a drink while his hands weren't covered in dirt. “And why did he send you?”
Annika followed the sound of the voice and smiled. She walked over to Nicholas and offered him the ring box.
’He’s my advisor this term. I just finished meeting with him and he asked me to bring this by,’ she said and glanced at the flask before looking at the plants Nicholas was working with.
Nicholas took the box and cracked it open. Inside sat an unassuming key. Nicholas snapped it shut, tucked it away in his pocket, and turned back away to his work, pulling the gloves back on and returning to carefully layering soil.
“Reason enough, I suppose. Good luck. He is a challenging person to earn the respect of.” Nicholas paused for a moment, considered her, and sighed.
“I would consider waiting to bring any issues you may have until after this evening. He'll be less… Croan, a bit more Varn.” Annika peered closer at the plants Nicholas had been working with while he looked inside the ring box. Caltheas. It took Annika a while to think about their purpose, but she did know they were more located in the Southern continents and Southeast Asia. Annika shifted her gaze to Nick as he started to glove up again. New beginnings, harmony, and balance. That’s what Calatheas were used for. Curious.
She raised her hand, hovering it over a leaf, but didn’t touch it.
”Hmm? Oh, is that because of the whole vampire thing?” Annika pulled her hand back and made fake fangs with her pointer fingers.
Nicholas stared at Annika's strange mimicry, snorted in amusement, and started working once more.
“There was a strange saying on the picture box a few decades back - you aren't you when you're hungry, I think? Varn is never… pleasant, but tolerable when he's sated. Probably hasn't eaten in a few weeks. He's grown lazy with a trapped food source. Rather wait than hunt.” Nicholas explained as he gently unearthed one of the calatheas from its original pot and worked on freeing the roots from the dirt.
“Vampires are far more palpable after they've eaten. A hungry vampire is a difficult thing to deal with.”Annika smiled slightly at Nick's reaction. Even if he thought she was strange, it was a different reaction from his usually stoic, uninterested expression. She peered closer as he worked with the plant, exhibiting great care with the plants. This, too, made her smile. Books should never be judged by their covers. Then Nick's words caught up with her and her face fell as she snapped her head to look at his face.
”Wait. Are you saying he feeds from the students?”He nodded as he worked out a particularly difficult clot of dirt and examined the roots for any further bits.
“Yes. Some of the Professors as well.” Nicholas replied absently, neatly placing his plant in the pot and slowly working soil around the roots.
“He's generous in his recompense and there is a style to it. Nothing like younger vampires. Feeding is a lost art these days.” He sighed but glanced at Annika out of the corner of his eye.
“I can introduce you if you are interested.” Annika blinked, slowly absorbing Nick's words. He couldn't be serious. Could he? Annika had a sinking feeling that Nicholas was entirely serious. Besides, he didn't seem like the joking type. Annika wasn't the praying type but she prayed Croan would ask before taking. She had a feeling she was more at risk of being a midnight snack due to her close proximity to Croan this term.
”Introduce me…? To younger vampires or…?” Annika pointed to the plant. Please be the plant.
“Despite my general disinterest in others, I don't wish ill on you. Younger vampires are a bit much for someone's first foray into the creatures of the night. No, Varn. There's a bit of pomp and circumstance to it but it's worth it in the end.” Nicholas looked between his plant and Annika's finger several times before finally settling on staring at Annika like she'd grown a third eye.
“Are you afflicted with madness? You are well aware this is… just a plant? Tis not some fairytale druid.” Annika relaxed a fraction, shrugging her shoulders.
”I suppose I should. Though I don't particularly want him to feed from me… But I don't think I'll have much say in the matter,” she said. This place was quickly teaching her that some boundaries would be moot.
Nick's next statement made Annika laugh. She looked around the greenhouse while she spoke.
”I am aware. However, I'm half indigenous. My people believe all creatures have a soul and carry some sort of purpose. Which isn't nearly as strange as books having a mind of their own. My father had a tendency to put things in books he shouldn't. So, plants having a soul wasn't that odd of a concept for me to learn.”“Hm.” Nicholas didn't bother correcting her. He didn't particularly care how others saw the vampire so if Annika thought Croan a monster who preyed on whoever might cross his path, so be it.
“At least your other half has some sense. Too much of magic has left the Earth these days; people tend to forget where it comes from in their pursuit of power and might. They forget the Earth can forget you too.” Annika smiled more warmly and nodded.
”Yes, it certainly can. Although, I think some of us are tied a little more strongly to magic than most. Hopefully that’ll make what little remains stay.” Annika stepped closer to the table and nodded to the plant.
”Can I help? Or is this more of a solo activity?” Annika thought she was having a good conversation with Nick, but she didn’t want to overstay her welcome.
Nicholas paused at the question. This girl wasn't grating by any means… Nicholas offered a noncommittal hum but perked his head at the empty pot next to him.
“Feel free.” He didn't have any more gloves to offer however.
Annika smiled and looked closely at the pot and plant in question. She fell silent while she worked, filling the empty pot a quarter full with some soil before she moved the transplant. She didn’t mind that her hands got dirty. It was comforting and grounding to work with the soil again. After a while, she spoke up again.
”Is there anything else I should watch out for in this school? People or other teachers. Sariel is a bit intense.”Nicholas paused to consider the question.
“No more than any other, I suppose. Magic demands an eclectic personality and those are oft equal in their intensity. That Harkness hag obviously. Don't cross paths with her if you can avoid it. He's on sabbatical, but definitely Professor Gray. And don't ask the artifact archivists too much. They can and will melt your brains out of your nose and ears. It is not a pretty sight nor particularly comfortable.” Nicholas advised and then shrugged.
“Of course, you may well have different experiences with these people. My centuries make dealing with most people of this century… bothersome.”Annika finished transplanting her plant while Nick talked. Some of his warnings worried her, but then his last statement made her pause. Perhaps it was an age different, but then again, she assumed most of her professors were older as well.
”Hmm, I’ll keep that in mind. I should get going. Thanks for the advice.” She found a rag to wipe most of the dirt off her hands, but she would need to wash and change still. She waved a goodbye before leaving Nick to his work.
After Callaghan ensured Willow was okay, he went to his room quickly to retrieve the book he had collected over the break before returning to Professor Mikkail. Cal presented the book to Mikkail, more than comfortable with the professor knowing secrets about his family that others didn’t. It was Mikkail who provided his family with many answers and help during their short time on earth. Even if Mikkail seemed off to Cal, there was something honest and truthful about the professor that made him feel safe.
The book contained story after story about Cal’s lineage, their origins as dragons, and their struggles with continuing the family line on earth. Pairing with humans was proving to be difficult. Their lives just weren’t sufficient enough to contain the life of a dragon. It seemed that just as soon as the dragon was beginning to uncover the secrets of their past lives, the human would inevitably die. Even though they had a symbiotic relationship that significantly extended the life of an average human, it wasn’t enough.
”Mother wanted me to pass along her greetings and extend an invitation once again for you to come visit,” Cal said, watching his mentor closely for any reaction from his words or the book.
Mikkail still stood in the center of the observatory. The view hadn't changed since the brief conversation with Cal and Willow and he accepted the book eagerly, flipping it open with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “Well, I shouldn't put that off for too long, should I? It wouldn't do to keep such a kindness waiting.” Mikkail chuckled. “And what a fascinating book you've brought me. Would it be too much trouble to ask to make a copy of it; otherwise, I fear I'll spend more time reading than talking. You know how easy it is for me to spiral into forgetfulness when I have something new to focus on, but slake my curiosity for a moment: is this an impersonal account of these challenges or is this a collection of memoirs?”
Cal grinned
’Mother made that copy for you actually. All the information we require is stored away,’ Cal said,tapping his head.
’You are correct. They are more memoirs from the past generations. At the end there is a reflective section, and some information on how we have advanced. Including a section penned by yours truly on how my little mission is going.’Mikkail beamed with delight at the revelation. “Truely a gift, my boy. I will be treasured for as long as I have.” Mikkail gently wrapped it in the folds of his robes and gave Cal his attention once more, pulling out the dairy he'd offered him earlier.. “Now, I believe I still owe you some insight into the book our moth friend found. It is a fascinating window into the mind of the man who developed such brutality, but even more so that it seems entirely uninterested in offering its secrets to me. I can feel something there, setting at the edge of my mind like a name of a long gone friend, but I can't seem to understand what it was that Willow experienced. I have read this, of course, but I have failed to glean further insight into the madness it offers. It seems only interested into those with the Sight, or gifts of such similar nature, so your best opportunity would be Willow or you friends that it finds interesting.”
Callaghan frowned at the offending book. He held his hand out for it, hoping the book would be willing to share its secrets with him.
”Should we really put Willow through that again? She reacted rather violently to it…Unless, is it always like that when someone uses Sight?” Cal asked.
Mikkail passed it back over. “I would personally determine the source of magic causing this. One of your covenmates, or another colleague, ought to be able to interact with magic unlike Willow and give you an idea if the experience was a result of echos in the magic, true sentience in the book, a lingering spell, or something else entirely, if you'd care to spare Willow further anguish.” Mikkail suggested, considering the second question for a moment. “The Sight is a fickle thing. I warned Willow against relying on it too much because its never true in the way you'd expect and its visions are often too difficult to understand. The Sight revealing things from the perspective of the one wielding it more often than not.”
Cal flipped through the diary, analyzing some of the paragraphs, and noted how strange the language became the further he read. He hoped something would reveal itself to him.
”Maybe Cassie. She has chaos magic. This might respond to her.” Cal continued to read even as he asked questions.
”Do you think you’ll be able to help Willow with her power?” Cal asked bluntly.
“With the Sight? I can certainly offer methods of meditation, direction for relevant reading, and introducing her to those who can aid her, certainly. The Sight doesn't come with incantations and gestures and such like we are most accustomed to but I certainly have resources to offer. My study has plenty of them!” Mikkail replied with a chuckle. “Chaos magic is a generally excellent choice - it's very versatile, though unpredictable in even the most experienced wielder's hands. It would be quite exciting to see what happens! You'll have to tell me what happens!”
Callaghan chuckled at his professor’s enthusiasm for what could go wrong. He hoped, at least, that what happened wouldn’t be too catastrophic. Cal would have to see how Cassie felt about looking at the book.
Cal tucked the book away, his thoughts drifting to what had happened earlier today.
”Professor…This mystery you have us working on, you mentioned it was something you had been trying to uncover for a while. How personal is this?”“The magic isn't particularly personal. It's simply a puzzle that has eluded me despite my best efforts, so I have offered the newer generation an opportunity to excel where I have failed. My notes and my writings are yours to explore of course; they are kept neatly in my sitting room for ease of access, though I do have the boorish habit of protecting my work in such a way that even I sometimes forget what I see is not what is true. The key to the challenge is teamwork and understanding the role you all play.” Mikkail explained, his gaze drifting once more to the stars around them. “Through all my years, I have rarely interceded in the affairs of the worlds I visit. And now as I consider my place in this universe, I find I regret it. There was so much opportunity to make change and I rarely did so focused on my own self assigned purpose. You are a good man, Callaghan. I do hope you find a way to break the cycles of history.”
Cal looked up at the sky with his professor. Taking in the stars as they blinked in and out of view. Mikkail’s last statement rugged on something deep within Cal. He looked back at his professor, concern plain on his face.
”Is everything okay, Professor? I noticed your dragon was close earlier today.”“Indeed, this human form has begun to weigh on me more lately. I have not spent enough time in my natural form, I think; but otherwise, everything is just fine. My years are starting to show, my friend. My mind wanders and I find myself remembering things I thought were long gone.” Mikkail laughed, something soft and weary. “Certainly something to consider, but my own reminiscences aren't something to worry about. Rather, how do you think you'll lead your group to success in this? I'm curious to hear how you'll get your group of misfits to band together.”
Cal sobered, remembering tales from his elders on what it was like to grow older and have the weight of multiple lifetimes on your shoulders. As much as Cal looked forward to those days, simply because of the knowledge he would have accumulated, he was grateful to still be young.
”Ah,” Cal said with an affectionate chuckle. He looked back up at the sky, in deep thought.
”I believe Willow and Cassiopeia are both eager to learn and prove themselves. It is perhaps Nicholas who will struggle to integrate. I at least want him to be able to trust the others to get the task done. I don't care if he likes them, but trust is the only way we will be able to find the answers. Any advice?” Cal asked, looking back at his mentor.
“Hm. How do you pry open something that welded its own locks shut?” Mikkail pondered and tilted his head. “I would recommend time and proximity, much like a wary cat, but I doubt the full extent of their lives would be enough to earn that. Should you wish to be crafty and underhanded, you may consider contriving a situation in which Willow and Cassie are forced to save the witch and perhaps that may earn it; though, I do not recommend it personally. I find it distasteful and the bonds forged fall apart once the illusion unravels - a particularly poor method against an illusionist. Perhaps a conversation and simply laying it out there; although, you would know better what methods of persuasion may work on him. And if none of that works, purchase it. A favor for trust would be a mighty favor indeed from someone so guarded, but I believe Nicholas’s favors far more… benign certainly is not the correct phrase, but straightforward may be. I know his brother’s are often wrapped in confusion and trickery. Nicholas seems to like the simple way of it.”
Cal agreed with his professor. Trickery was not the way to win about Nick's favour or his trust. However, Cal was well versed in the art of persuasion. He smirked to himself, wondering if those methods would truly yield the results Cal was intending. Purchasing it? Well, perhaps, but what would Nick want that Cal had the means to give.
”All helpful thoughts. Thank you Professor. I'm sure you will soon know if I'm successful in that endeavour. I'll take my leave. Read the book, let me know if you have any thoughts or questions,” Cal said, scooping up his bag once more.
“Of course, my boy, of course. I shall have plenty before sundown.” Mikkail clapped Callaghan on the back. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small bottle, just larger than the size of his palm with several small red blooms inside “Ah, actually a little something for your friend. An old seer offered me this once, saying a tea brewed of these leaves will offer some respite from the demands of the Sight. I forgot I had this on me; I certainly won’t find any use for it but I believe Willow may. The name slips my mind, but I think it should be fairly easy to find more.”
Callaghan accepted the bottle from Mikkail and held it close for examination. He smiled.
”Lycoris radiata the red spider lily. Thank you. I'll pass this along to her. I'll see you soon, Professor.” Cal tipped his head respectfully to Mikkail before leaving the professor to his own devices.
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