• Solo • [Westguard] Watching the Watcher (Graded)

[Woe]

31st of Ymiden 719

The house was silent, save for the light breathing of the little girl, who'd finally found a roof and a safe place for herself. Woe sat by the door to her room, to tell if she was sleeping. He waited, until he felt the stirrings of her tangle, that signified dreaming. Then he got up, shut her door, and moved out toward the front of the house. He didn't feel all that comfortable leaving her alone, by herself in the house. But he supposed it wasn't any safer than with the urchins she had run with before, sleeping in abandoned warehouses or under bridges. She'd be fine.

"She'll be fine," he told himself in a murmured whisper. Then he slipped down the hall, toward the kitchen and living area. Once there, he exited the door for what may be the final time. Brigantia had warned him against the dangers of initiation in the discipline of magic she intended to teach him next. It was especially dangerous, and far less gentle than Empathy, she assured him. Well it wasn't very reassuring. How would Werthom fend for herself if it weren't for him?

He supposed she'd tell her friends her adopted dad had passed, and that they ought to squat in his house. Perhaps he'd find a party of urchins taking up with her by the time he got back. He shook such suspicions from his mind, however. Even if she did, could he blame her for being loyal to her friends? The ones who'd always looked out for her?

[Woe]

Without another thought spent on this subject, Woe slipped out the door.

They lived in a moderate part of town, where there wasn't too much crime, too many pickpockets or muggers. Although there was the occasional roving street gang that strayed from their territory, the guard did a good job of putting them down when they entered the wrong neighborhood.

Even so, Woe was on his guard, on the way to the Weaver.

The streets were largely abandoned at this time of night. Street lanterns were kept lit, but fast fading, in need of swapping with fresh candles. Woe figured that was the life. Just live in a chandler's shop, maybe settle down and take up a real trade. A fragrant smelling chandlery., with guild mates to back him up, a kid at home waiting for her dad. The idea was an incredibly novel one to Woe. He never thought he would have a child under his care, never dared hope that he'd find anyone to have one with. When he saw that ragged, dirty, pitiful yet hopeful face, something shifted in him. He became more than a mere servant to Sintra. He became a protector.

His walk took him over the bridge to the richer side of town, where all the mercantile shops were arrayed. The signs of industry were all around, mills, warehouses, shops and well appointed residences all around. Westguard wasn't the worst place to settle down, all things told.

Within a few bits, he was in front of Brigantia's shop. He knocked twice, and waited.

[Woe]

He didn't have to wait long. It appeared she was ready for his company. The old woman was wearing an old silk dress, that covered her modestly, and kept the chill of the night at bay. It was black, with slashes of red and yellow here or there. He hadn't expected that this would be a formal affair. He began to lament his choice of attire, white shirt, brown vest, black pants and boots. As if sensing, well, as she sensed his emotions, the elder woman smiled back at him. "Worry not, child. It'll make it easier to bury you and hide your body, should the initiation not go as planned." She chuckled.

Woe's mouth twisted wryly, as she turned her back on him, and led him into the same old room in the back. It smelled of old perfume, dustballs, and dried flowers in that room. Woe was more at home in a tannery, where the olfactory senses became numb to the stench. The aroma of this place, while not overpowering, had a cloying quality to it, that pestered the senses.

Nevertheless, he took a seat when bid to, opposite her on a circular table. On the table were several objects, an old key with a ribbon attached, a prism, and a silver wine sampler. He quirked a brow at the gathered trifles, and then looked up at her. "Are these things... part of the initiation?"

"No, I just like having them to focus. Initiating one into attunement is a delicate process, one as dangerous for me as you."

[Woe]

Thus having said, they began. But not before the old woman took a few sips of her wine. Woe felt uncertain about the prospects of being initated into one who was into their cups, but Brigantia had lived this long, and presumably initiated one or two students in her time. He couldn't help himself, he had to say something about it. "Do you think it's a good idea to drink, before we get underway? I."

"Don't question my methods boy, and we'll be very good. Anger does not become me when dealing my magic, but you most of all have something to gain from my continued calm. So I will have a drink of wine, and enjoy it. You will sit there like a nice man, and wait."

Nice man... He was a nice man, wasn't he? He thought to the past, of the people he'd had under his mercy, whether in the torturer's dungeon, in jail, or elsewhere. He was a good man. Those were bad people. It took a harsh hand sometimes to bring order to the madness in the world.

So he waited, thoroughly cowed by her attempts to shame him. And wait he did, until every last drop was gone from the small wine cup. Then, promptly, as if in answer to his mounting anxiety, she got up from her chair, and brought over a bottle of brandy, which she set off toward the side of the table. Then, placing her palms on the tablecloth, she gave him another look as if to dare his line of questioning her once more.

[Woe]

There was no use hiding his anxiety, his trepidation, his severely mounting distrust for this woman's methods, as she slid the brandy over the table toward the glass. She opened the decanter, and began pouring it into the cup. Taking a sip for herself, she hummed, then slid the cup over to Woe. "You should have some."

"No thanks." Woe said, "I don't drink."

"This will be the last time then." She sighed, frowning at him. "Just drink the fucking liquor, alright? It'll help you cope with the sensory overload of initiation."

"Speaking of initiation..."

"Yes. Drink."

So drink he did, for one of the first times. Oh he'd had wine and beer before, but never habitually, and certainly not to excess. He certainly didn't expect that it would help with the process of initiation. Yet he drank it down, and winced as it burned his throat.

"Good?" She asked, lifting her eyebrows.

"Mmm..." Woe winced, the full blast of the old perfume and dried flowers hitting his nostrils as the drink went down. "You know what I think about it. Or are you doing me the courtesy of ignoring my emotioal tangle tonight?"

"Hmm, yes. I thought it best to leave well enough alone. But years of reading peoples emotions has given me good insight into their inner workings, even when not using magic. I can tell you're very nervous, so I think this will be good for you. Nerves can kill i an attunement initiation. Literally."

Woe shrugged, and then when directed, extended his hands for her to take.

[Woe]

She took his hands in hers, and then lifted them up, slowly, until they cupped his temples on either side of his head. There, her hands were warming to the touch, lightly radiating a subtle intensity. The intensity grew into a barely audible humming. And the humming gave way to the babbling of a brook. Whispers lapped and twisted around the turbulence of the small waves on the surface waters of the brook, until he couldn't hear much of what she was saying anymore. In about five trills, he wouldn't be able to hear himself think.

Then, came the music. It layered over the crown of his head, down to his shoulders to encompass every fiber of his being. Then, just as subtly as it had fallen on him, just as gently as it came over him, like the rush of a waterfall, the radiations and whispers and babbling began to reach a fever pitch, until they balled and formed a singularity at his very center. Then, from within, they burst outward, and he flung his arms wide, despite himself.

Suddenly, his once sharp senses were refined to a level hitherto-fore that he couldn't have imagined. And as the radiations stretched outward from his center, he felt, sensed, saw, and heard every single fiber of what those tendrils touched. And for a moment, his awareness was complete.

Slowly, he returned to himself, driven to exhaustion by the arcane awareness that had fallen upon his brow. He looked up, to see Brigantia, barely seeing her at first. But eventually, his puzzle-piece blue eyes met hers.

[Woe]

They took a few moments for Woe's senses to stop rattling. In that time, she brought him tea, a pipe to smoke if he wished it, and filled the air with incense. She began clearing out the dried flowers and scents of old perfume. "Those were part of the initiation process... at least how I tend to do it." Brigantia explained.

So for a few precious moments, Woe was allowed to relax. Yet there were questions ringing in his mind, from their previous meeting. Was Erastus his father, or was that some other trick to pluck at his tangle, and see if it settled right? He wanted to know. Need was another matter, Erastus being dead by his own hand. Perhaps it was best not to know, or to ask. He left it alone.

"What do I do now, and what does this magic business actually mean for me?"

"Means a big emean parasite gets to eat your soul slowly."

She laughed when the shock registered on his face, "It only does if you let it. You can just as well ignore it, but it is part of your soul now, for better or worse."

Woe shrugged. He supposed he was already damaged goods anyways. What was one more chain link to add to his servitude? "So... are you going to teach me to actually use it? I've reached out, to my daughter for instance, but I'm concerned that I will do damage. And I'd prefer not to use her for practice, if I can help it... without her permission."

[Woe]

Brigantia sighed at him, then turned her eyes toward her own cup of coffee. She stirred a couple of lumps into it, as well as some creamer. Tapping the spoon several times, she returned to the table with the cup and saucer, taking dainty sips as she moved. When she finally sat down, she nodded demure. "There's a few techniques I can teach you about, that you're unlikely to master on your own initiative. Attunement is a... difficult magic to master. It's gentle, which makes it all the more easy to overstep without realizing it. That is something you really do NOT wish to do."

Woe nodded, "Go on then."

"Right now, at the moment, your spark is but an infant. It will only be able to reckon with the tangle of living things. As you gain confidence, experience, and the spark grows, you'll be able to extend your sensory range. You'll even be able to determine the frequencies of inanimate objects. Powers such as telemetrics and so forth. I'm sure you've heard tales?"

Woe shook his head yes. She shrugged. "At any rate, some things ARE better learned on your own. But I will teach you what you essentially need to know."

"And... what do I need to know?"

"You need to know the dangers, first and foremost. Of empathy, and of attunement. The chief among these, being unimaginative people who will try and catalogue your existence for future reference. The greatest boon of attunement, as far as magekind go, is that you may be able to hide the fact that you are a mage."

[Woe]

"Yes..." Woe said, "I realize mages aren't exactly well regarded. I come from Rynmere, you know?" Woe remembered all too well, that time when he'd returned, the burnings, the hunts. Even before the advent of the Mantis, there'd been a great deal of unrest regarding the status of mages in Rynmere. While the Seekers were barely tolerated, the Coven of course was reviled, and did damage to the image of mage-kind as a whole. He remembered in his idle thoughts, how he'd represented the Mage's Guild to the King, in that Parlor game during the gala held by the Royal Court. He'd sneaked in, with wardrobe borrowed from bank money. He remembered several of the players that were present, more or less fondly.

"What does hiding who we are have to do with attunement?"

"Static, the first ability I will teach you. You know how when you're in a crowded area, it's difficult to isolate one particular person's conversation or line of speech? Well, Static introduces an element of tumult to the frequency you put out, to the point where you may be able to scramble it, and hide who and what you are. This extends beyond magic even, and can be applied to... say... marks." She winked and stuck out her tongue at him, revealing the lethroda mark on the bottom of her mouth.

"Very well. Teach me then." He extended his hands, thinking this would require hand holding. She just stared blankly at the back of his hands, and laughed, shaking her head.

[Woe]

"No..." She laughed still, pushing his hands away toward his side of the table. "No hand holding this time. It's simple, really."

So she taught him, by example. Inexplicably, or perhaps by virtue of his new sense of the world, Woe was able to discern how she managed to scramble the frequencies running through the air, specifically those coming off of her. While he paid attention to her demonstration, he felt something strange when regarding her. As if there was now a connection between them, that went beyond their common loyalty to the Webspinners, or their shared magic. He shrugged it off, though. It wasn't important.

"Try now."

So, Woe closed his eyes, thinking that might help, and breathed deeply. He felt for his own frequency, and found it. As he did so, the servant began to will that band he perceived, to vibrate, until it's frequency gave off all kinds of noise and interference. Before long, it wasn't recognizable, at least not to Woe. It was strange, all at once perceiving the frequency of one's soul and then losing sight or hearing of it.

"Very good. But that was one of the easier techniques. Still, most magi that are new are unlikely to discover such tricks on their own. Especially ones as dense as you." Brigantia snickered.

"Now... One last thing, and then I must retire for the night, and you must go home..."

So saying, she stood up, and held her arms to her sides. "Now, attain my frequency. It will take you a few bits, so don't rush it. Just close your eyes, relax."