abraxaslogs | [Open] A Star In Hand Lit His Way

No harm in asking.

[ He can't see Ciri saying no to Rinwell. Especially not when the girl's been essentially holding down the fort on their behalf. She has, in a lot of ways, become one of theirs. Which was not entirely what he'd intended when he'd run into her that night, but here they are.

Livestock. He tilts his head. ] You don't use them?

[ Eating a horse is not unheard of. Horses become lame, injured. Folk grow hungry and desperate on a trail or during a famine. Armies run out of rations as wars drag on. But it's another thing to consider them livestock altogether. They're working animals—expensive, and far more valuable for their labour than their meat. (And for him, an irreplaceable companion.) ]

Then, when she gets back, I'll ask.

[ If Geralt thinks it's a good idea, it's not a bad thing for Rinwell to consider. And she can't help but feel excited by the prospect. (The witchers may have started her on the path of becoming a Teenaged Horse Girl, and they've only themselves to blame for it.) ]

No. I think Elde Menancia is the only place that really has them, as far as I can tell. It's too hot in Calaglia, and too cold in Cyslodia. Though maybe there are some in Ganath Haros, but I've never been there.. [hoof is put down, inspection complete, before turning to Geralt. Her expression is surprisingly reserved, especially compared to the earlier smiles] If there was more wide spread use once, it's not been that way for over 300 years. The Renans saw to that.

[ Too cold for horses? He can't help but wonder exactly how cold it must be; he's hardly from the south. The Blue Mountains and most of the northern kingdoms are covered in frost and heavy blizzards every winter.

He watches her carefully. That's the second time she's mentioned the Renans. He gets the sense it isn't a pleasant topic, and when he asks, it isn't directly about them just yet. ]

You said your friend was Dahnan. [ A Dahnan owl, she'd called him. ] Is that where you're from?

That's right. [Hoot!] Our world is called Dahna. I'm technically from Cyslodia, but back home..well, you're either a Dahnan or a Renan.

[ Her hand comes up to rest on Roach's shoulder, gently stroking her coat. Hootle hops back down to her arm, then with a flutter of wings, up onto her head. ]

I never really thought about the existence of others outside of 'us' and 'them'. I didn't imagine it was possible for it to exist. It's been an adjustment, being here and being the only Dahnan in a sea of humans from everywhere.

[ As opposed to the only Dahnan mage, which is its own knot of trouble. ]

[ Us and them. He may not know what the Dahnans and Renans actually are, but he can understand the sentiment. ]

There's always an us and them. It just looks different depending on where you are.

[ Like here. The Summoned and the natives born of this world. The ones who chose to remain in Thorne and the ones who fled. People will divide themselves sooner or later. Doesn't matter what the reason behind it. And really, is he that different? Because even now, as she says a sea of humans, he wants to reply, not all human.

He looks up at the owl perched on her head. ] What happened three hundred years ago?

I suppose so.

[ Rinwell gives Roach one last pat, before stepping forward and carefully letting herself out of the stall. If Hootle notices how Geralt pays him extra attention, he doesn't seem too worried about it; his head bobs from side to side, and occasionally he glances around, but predominantly his mood seems to reflect Rinwell's.

She hesitates, before slowly walking over, and perching herself on a second hay bale. All the better for telling stories from. Or history, in her case. ]

That's when the Renans invaded Dahna, coming down from their world to ours. They took over our entire planet.. They wiped out our cities, our culture, our everything, and enslaved the local populations. They pillage our resources even now, made us their slaves and use us to gather our planet's astral energy for their own use on their homeworld.

[ Her fists clench as she speaks, even as she settles them on her thighs. ]

[ While Rinwell takes a moment, Geralt shifts his attention elsewhere up until She joins him on the hay. He's quiet as he listens. There's a lot of unravel there: entire planet, she says, not entire land. He's not certain what she means by came down, either.

Beyond those details, her story is a familiar one. Another might think her too young to have gone through that much shit, but he knows better. Childhood is where it always starts. ]

Your magic. [ He looks over at her. It's not sympathy she'll find there, but something closer to an understanding. ] Is that why you guard it? Because they want it?

[ Every land, every acre, every stretch of water: all of it, taken over by another race. Who, quite literally, descended from the heavens, from a world that Dahnans had naively always assumed to belong to the gods. But there was never anything remotely angelic about them.

Rinwell doesn't vibrate with anger as she once did when simply thinking about the injustice of it all. But it's still there, under her skin, if she cares to look hard enough.

Then, his query, and there's a definite flinch. Hootle's wings droop, a soft noise trilling from his beak, as Rinwell looks down at her feet. Trying to decide how much she wants to share right now. ]

As far as anyone back home knows, only Renans have astral artes. They're called 'bright eyes', because it makes them glow when using it. [hers most certainly do not - and had not, back when she had flung spells at the wraiths a month ago] And if they knew a Dahnan could wield them too..

[ The more she tells him, the more the pieces slot into place. It explains much about their first meeting. Why her guarded caution had been so familiar. She reminds him of Ciri, too aware of what will happen if her secret is discovered. ]

They can't find you here. [ Perhaps she's someone who has less reason to want to return to her home world. Or maybe she does want to. Has she left anyone behind? The only thing he knows about her is that she said she was alone and that she has an owl as a friend. And magic she shouldn't be capable of wielding, apparently. ] But your secret's safe with us, if you want to keep it that way.

[ The Free Cities have a complicated attitude towards magic at best. Not exactly...fear, but there's a wariness amongst some he can sense. An apprehension that has led to derision in places. So far, he's not seen anything to be actively concerned about, but that doesn't mean those sentiments can't shift or won't shift into worse. ]

[ The circumstances here are so very different. Yet the moment Geralt gives his assurance to her, some of the tension seems to lift from her shoulders. He's right. They can't find her here. And much as she misses her friends, realising she can trust the ones she's made here with that secret is a burden lifted. ]

Thank you.

I kept them secret for a very long time, just as my parents did, as my family did. Until... [she trails, then shakes her head] I...I don't want to stop using my magic. But I don't want everyone to know... It'd be on my terms, if they do.

[ Setting aside the awkwardness of being a mage in the Free Cities, she simply doesn't trust the military here. ]

[ He offers Rinwell a small smile, glad to see some of the tension lift from her. Until. That's a story for another time, he thinks. He considers the matter of her magic instead: that she wants to use it, but without anyone discovering her secret.

Maybe there's a way. ]

Jaskier practices his magic outside the city on occasion. He could use the company.

[ It'll be private out there, and anyone who might happen by from a distance likely won't be able to discern whose magic is whose. As long as the spell isn't overwhelmingly massive. He does recall Rinwell finding the idea of his smaller Signs unusual, though the magic she'd used on the wraiths hadn't been especially out of control, either. ]

[ Everyone has a story to tell. Rinwell simply shares hers in drips and starts. ]

Company, or protection?

[ Given the seriousness of the conversation so far, she almost hesitates in smiling when she asks. She knows Jaskier is a little nervous about some elements of his earth astral artes, but she's seen what else he can do that he's been more than happy to share.

(One of these days, Geralt will get to see what Rinwell can really do. Probably after Jaskier has told him, in what sounds like exaggerated detail.) ]

[ He huffs a little, amusement colouring his reply. ] Both.

[ There are bandits out there. Jaskier normally travels with Ciri, but both of them have had...less than ideal experiences together out in the desert, for two completely different reasons. Might be time for a small change.

Besides, just because Geralt's trapped in the city recovering doesn't mean everyone else has got to be. And he figures Rinwell could use more to do than to look after his horse, even if Roach seems to have benefited from the care. Even her black mane's been neatly crimped now.

He eases to his feet, now that they're finished in the stables. ] Come inside. Ciri tells me you made something unusual.

[ Rinwell has faced worse than bandits. But there are still things she has yet to encounter here. ]

I'll keep that in mind.

[ You tasked her with caring for your horse, and by golly, she has thrown herself into that job. Especially when it helped relieve some of the burden from Ciri and Jaskier.

That she's also helping with meals and some minor tidying around the apartment means the girl is doing what she can to 'earn her keep'. At some point, she'll find a job with coin, to pay forward what they've done for her, but this much she's been assured is enough for now. ]

I have? [what could Ciri be referring to—Oh!] I don't know about unusual. But it IS tasty.

[ It's plenty, in truth. (He'd say it's more than Hector's done, but he's fairly certain Hector is willing to do a lot, too. It's only that the man's version of what he's willing to do tends to involve risen corpses.) ]

She seemed impressed, whatever it is. [ He's gathered it's some sort of desert. And now that Rinwell has made herself something of a fixture in their home, she'll find out soon if she hasn't already how quickly word spreads between the three of them when they're all in the same vicinity.

He's limping a bit by the time they reach the inn room that's become more and more of a permanent home. He pushes open the door—lets Rinwell in first before he follows behind and pulls forward the nearest chair to sit down in. Eventually, he'll start to test mounting his horse, but. It'll be some days yet. He heals faster than most on his own, but not as quick as he would if he'd had full access to his elixirs. What he can make here is sufficient, but not the same. ]

I'm glad she liked it.

[ Having Ciri as her first taste tester had been an excellent idea, really. Especially if she's now passing on word about her desserts! ]

I really like sweet things. But if there's any particular food other people prefer, I'm okay with learning how to cook it. We— I did a lot of cooking on the road, when I was traveling with my friends.

[ She's begun mentioning them to Ciri, in drips and drabs. But it's plain even with that brief mention that she misses them, whoever those friends might be.

Sharp eyes don't miss the limp that soon accompanies Geralt on their way back, and Rinwell is mindful not to keep him waiting, slipping inside and bee lining for the kitchenette. ]

Would you like anything in particular to drink?

[ She wouldn't usually ask, but he might want something else before she tries and pulls the ice cream out of the coldbox. ]

[ He shakes his head in reply. Probably by now Rinwell has discovered what's to drink in their household is ale or wine, and a store of vodka for when they actually desire to drink. He's gotten the sense early in this isn't what Rinwell is normally used to, but. Not much else to obtain in the city.

He distinctly does not lean back in the chair, instead resting his hands on the seat as he watches her. That's the first time she's mentioned her friends to him really.

It's curious, that she calls it travelling with friends. Hadn't she mentioned her people were enslaved? Was she still among them or had she found herself elsewhere? ]

We're on the road most our lives. We aren't the picky sort. [ Even Jaskier learned to make do following a Witcher, though the bard has put down coin for a more embellished meal from time to time. He studies her for a second. ] Seems you've spent your days doing the same.

[ If he doesn't have a preference, then Geralt will find himself with a bottle of ale placed next to him, before Rinwell heads to the coldbox and pulls out the tub she'd been keeping cool inside.

Frozen, even, aided and abetted by a little ice magic application as and when required. She doesn't need a stool for this part, at least, and seems pleased as the lid is carefully peeled back and her work examined. A spoon, a spoon, her kingdom for a— ah! ]

I learned a little off and on. But we had to take turns, and everyone pitched in with learning recipes on the road.

One friend of mine is picky, even when he says he isn't. [absently mentioned; she's only really spoken of her absent friends with Ciri, and only recently at that] He'll eat anything meat, but hates eating greens. And sugar. [how can you hate sugary things?? honestly.]

He's not a big fan of this dessert. But I hope you'll like it.

[ Said, as she scoops a small helping out and into one of the few clean bowls; she's going to have to rinse things out and tidy when they're done, but that's no hardship in the grand scheme of things. And Rinwell looks genuinely eager for Geralt's opinion on her dish as she turns back and brings it over. Cold, creamy coloured, and smells sweet. ]

[ The cold box is a new thing for him, but its usefulness grew on him quickly. And while it took him a bit of time to get used to chilled ale, it's become something of a preference now.

His lips quirk. Admittedly, he has little care for sweetness, too, or dessert. But Rinwell's obviously put a lot of effort into making what she has. The least he can do is try it. Especially when it seems to remind her of home.

He sniffs it first. It smells sweet, but lightly so. When he dips his spoon into it, the coldness seems to surprise him. Hm. It reminds him, a little, of cream left out in the winter chill: icy, thick. This is more deliberately done, though. Despite his absent sweet tooth, the cold and lightness makes it far more palatable—lacking the heavy stickiness he's tasted on some of the things he's been given to try in the Horizon. ]

Your friend's missing out. [ It's good, actually. He sticks another spoonful in his mouth. ] In winter, children would pour molasses or honey on fresh snow.

[ That's what this reminds him of a bit. He remembers doing it as a boy. Plenty of snow up in the Blue Mountains. ]

[ Rinwell tries, and fails, to not look as anxious as she feels as Geralt inspects her offering, both owl and mage watching as he sniffs at the ice cream before taking that first bite. She's done her best, given the tools at her disposal, and even with a bit of magic to hasten some of the process, it's taken several attempts before she finally hit the right combination.

So when he speaks, she can't help the big smile that crosses her face. Hootle bobs his head, an echo of the happy mood he senses in his human. (Hah! Take that, Law!) ]

There's lots of flavour variation you can make, depending on what you mix into it. Some fruits can be really nice, and honey too. I really like chocolate, but I haven't really found much of that here..

[ Then eyes light up. ] We have that back home! Or, had, I guess. [the light dims, before she rallies quickly] My- Adults would tap some of the trees, and collect the sap. Sometimes they'd heat it first, to thicken the sugar, but usually they'd just pour it directly.

[ Is this the second time he's heard about chocolate? Might be. He still doesn't know what it is, but fruit and honey he understands. He listens as Rinwell speaks, eyes on her. His expression shifts when hers do; he hears it, the way she stumbles before she fills it in with adults instead. It's not hard to guess what she'd initially meant to say.

He doesn't ask outright, but: ]

We collected it on our own. [ He props his foot up on a stool to rest his knee. ] Mostly took care of ourselves.

[ He doesn't know how old Rinwell was when she found herself orphaned. But he does know what it feels like. ]

[ There's a sidelong glance for Geralt, listening to what he says. It's nice, to realise other worlds had similar traditions (and similar frozen regions).

And there's a hint, or what she hopes is a hint, that maybe he understands better than she initially thought he would.

She smiles, and nods slowly. She's already said more than she'd planned today. But that's alright. It's a good sign that she's coming out of her shell, if slowly. ]

It got harder, when I was older. But I hope I can get to do it again, someday. Maybe not here [what is snow in Cadens, obviously] but maybe in the Horizon.

[Open] A Star In Hand Lit His Way

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