After her initial success she couldn’t help feeling giddy and overconfident. She sent the warmth to her fingers again and tried to form a rune. Her fingers warmed up in a golden glow and her breathing grew shallow. Tulip’s eyes widened in panic. “Wait- no!-“ The magic warped and fizzled before popping in her hands.
Pain.
Her hands turned pink with burns and her nerves frayed, sending shooting pains up her arm.
“I told you not to try anything!” Tulip scolded in a harsh tone, yet her hands were gentle as she grasped her arm and turned it to assess the damage. She sighed heavily and rubbed her temple with her brows furrowed.
A magic circle sprung up over her palm, ‘Burn Heal’ again. One swipe left her arm less red, then a different magic spell glowed, one she didn’t recognize. It spun with three circles and Tulip seemed to press it into her skin. Immediately the shooting pains calmed to a dull ache.
“Let this be a lesson to you. And myself. We shouldn’t have jumped ahead.” Her hand gripped her arm a little tighter and she hid a wince. “I forget you probably haven’t been taught what everyone else just knows- What is simply common sense.”
“That skill isn’t a true spell, hence it’s called a skill. Magic circles are much more difficult than what we just did.” She let go and stood to gather the pages of copied runes. She laid them in a neat stack in front of her. “Until you learn them by heart, you will not be able to perform magic, and even then you must do it under supervision and you must let me guide you until you achieve true resonance.” Daffodil hung her head. “Sorry.”
A warm hand touched the top of her head. “This time the damage wasn’t severe, but I can’t perform anything over three circles, so we were lucky this time.” Daffodil flexed her hand and it still ached a bit. “Still hurt.” Tulip shook her head as Daffodil’s eyebrows furrowed. “Magic backlash is dangerous and difficult to heal correctly. You won’t always have someone to heal you from it. I want you to bear at least a little bit of the consequences for a time to let that sink in. Recklessness in magic leads to major injury and even-“ she cut herself off and looked down at the child before her. “Nevermind.”
She gently squeezed Daffodil’s shoulder and pointed to another rune. “I think that’s enough of a break. Let’s continue.”
Daffodil’s mood stabilized and she refocused, rubbing her arm when Tulip was distracted. Despite the pain her fingers itched to try again.
Tulip traced a rune and turned to her. “It is common sense that everyone who is taught can find their source and channel it. It is an innate- it is a part of who we are as humans.” She gently brushed her fingers between her brows. “Once one knows it is there it is like another limb, you don’t really have to think to use it.”
Her eyes shimmered and a small line of blue traced her fingertips. The line formed into a simple rune she didn’t recognize. “But this- this requires more than just being human. This requires resonance with the world. It requires becoming more than yourself, and surrendering to the laws of the world. This is what everyone is taught when young due to the dangers of magic and what we truly mean when we use the term ‘will’.”
The rune faded. “So you can’t become conceited- overconfident, with this victory. It is still impressive, but anything more will require a lot of time and effort to learn.”
Daffodil sat, enamored as she listened, her eyes shining. Why hadn’t she learned this? Did her mama not know? How much do I not know?
“The vast amount of people cannot even form the first circle. Even in this village, which is blessed with Asmophel’s guidance, only Dahlia and myself can perform healing magic.”
Daffodil was determined to be another.
At the end of the week she was still copying the fundamental runes. She didn’t dare to try to form another rune with magic until Dahlia or Tulip gave permission. Yet when she asked they shook their heads. They would say some version of: “You may have them memorized, but you don’t fully understand them yet.” It frustrated her.
She poured herself into her work at the church, each interaction leaving her breathless as she worked until she was dead on her feet. She felt Tulip and Dahlia’s worried gazes on her back, but her body felt strong, and she’d hate to sit still when she finally has the chance to be useful. To help the people she has only known for days, yet they are the ones who have freed her from the fog of a weak mind and body. The clarity left in her mind has her reeling as she is able to absorb information like a sponge, all the new experiences distracting her as she pushes down feelings of loss and grief. Every new person in need of her help fills the hole her most important person left behind.
She grows more enamored as she learns, a new emotion taking root in her core. Her curiosity grows and begins to outweigh her fear as it gives her purpose.
Her back straightens each day, no longer needing to hide as her mama taught her. Instead, the people were kind.
She prepared for her first service and practiced channeling her source into the daffodil on her collar, trying not to feel stifled by the immediate lack of progress.
A now familiar warmth suffused her body and she channeled it into the flower on her lapel with a sigh. Its yellow center grew more vibrant and saturated with color and its white petals purified into a color untainted by decay.
Tulip absentmindedly adjusted her robe with nimble hands, smoothing any creases and imperfections. “This is the first time you will be with us, so don’t worry too much, you’ll only be handling some small tasks.” Daffodil nodded, shifting nervously at the thought of seeing so many people again.
They stepped into the chapel, the light dim as the rising sun’s rays had yet to reach their windows. Her hands fisted into her robes and she walked stiffly to the altar.
Dahlia spared her a glance as he bustled about. He picked up a golden plate with slices of fruit, Povu, the fruit that bears the first seed and grows on the tree within the chapel. Tulip smoothed her fists and robes, then took the plate from Dahlia’s outstretched hands. “Allow each person who walks through the door to take a slice.”
She took the plate, observing the verdant red skin that showed in stark contrast to the white flesh. “Now go open the door, it is time. Once everyone has arrived, come back to the altar and we will begin.”
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She made an about-step and walked with careful strides to the door, unwilling to get her legs tangled in her robes again. She grasped the gold handle and pulled the large wooden doors open, allowing light to stream in from the entrance.
She moved to the side as the villagers crowded in, each took a slice without a need for instruction and leisurely took their seats as voices began to fill the chamber. Each greeted her with soft tones. “Deacon.” They murmured, voices filled with respect. She stood until the crowd thinned to a few stragglers and made to return to her place in Tulip’s shadow. She left the door wide open, as it would stay until the sun set.
Some curious eyes followed her as she placed the plate in its proper place, and when she met their eyes they would flash a quick smile. She sent tentative smiles back, but quickly hid behind Tulip’s larger frame.
Dahlia cleared his throat from behind the altar. “Let us begin.”
Immediately the room hushed, with some higher voices lingering as children needed to be quieted by their parents. The sight made her heart squeeze. She traced the runes on her sleeve.
“The Garden welcomes you all on this day, the day of the sun…” His voice mellowed and seemed to carry weight as he grew firmer in stance and settled into a familiar role. “The service on this day is special, as we have a new Deacon joining us in our ecosystem. If you were here last week you will recognize her as Daffodil, Deacon of Vita’s Garden due to her naming ceremony.” He paused and a chorus of voices resounded in the space.
“Welcome Daffodil, Deacon of Vita’s Garden.”
She blushed a splotchy red and lowered her head in thanks, a wave of chuckles following her action.
Dahlia continued. “Asmophel blesses us with her grace.”
“And with light and life responding.” The villagers answered.
Dahlia and Tulip raised their hands. Dahlia formed a five circle spell that shone radiantly, nearly drowning out Tulip’s 3 circle spell. The plants in the room surged forth and entangled the village within them, some children’s laughter rang out as they were ensnared. Daffodil sent out her own tendril of source magic, small white flowers bloomed in its wake.
She watched as the villagers' complexions seemed to flush and their eyes shone with a sheen of gold. The magic coursed through the room in waves as the circles rotated endlessly. Sparks of magic fell like cinders until the Head Priest stopped channeling magic into the spell, both Tulip and Daffodil followed soon after.
The plants retreated into their usual positions and the villagers stood one by one and bowed. Loose leaves and petals decorated their bodies, and they each plucked them one by one, holding them in their grasps.
Tulip handed a basket of woven grass to Daffodil and she went down the rows of pews to retrieve them. She walked slowly with a straight back, murmuring her thanks for each piece retrieved, avoiding the amused eyes of the villagers. Her feet sunk into the moss. A myriad of loose foliage decorated her basket by the end and she quickly returned to the altar.
Tulip retrieved the basket solemnly and retreated through a door towards the kitchen.
Dahlia raised his hands. “Asmophel sits in the second seat of The Pantheon, residing over her domains of light and life. This village is truly blessed by her vitality.” He swept his hands outwards in a graceful arc. “May the village prosper and live long under her guidance.” He bowed his head, the others following suit. They waited like this in silence, the only thing accompanying them the rustling of leaves and chirping of the morning birdsong. Tulip returned, carrying bowls of tea, brewed from the collected cuttings. Noise returned with her as each villager turned to others and wished them well.
She carried many large bowls made of dark aged wood, and three small bowls of young saplings, tinged green in their youth. The large bowls contained dark colored tea, filled with the dregs from the leaves.
A large bowl was handed to each row and passed down, one by one each person sipped from the bowls until they were empty, chewing on the dregs within. Once they were passed around the clergy took sips from their own bowls, bright clear liquid pooling in their mouths.
Fire coursed through Daffodil’s veins and she pressed her lips together to keep from crying out. It felt like her veins were expanding and suddenly all tiredness vanished from her body.
Dahlia was the first to recover and he bowed deeply to the villagers and the villagers followed suit. “May your week be fruitful.” Tulip and Daffodil echoed alongside the villagers with their heads bowed. “May your week be fruitful.”
The villagers stood as one and filed out of the church, some lingering to speak with friends. Tulip pulled her to the side and smiled gently. “You did very well, Tulip. Our doses are a bit higher than those of the villagers, why don’t you go explore some and walk off that extra energy, okay? Head Priest Dahlia and I will take it from here.” She gently patted her head and fixed her hair. “Maybe you can even visit the guards and ask them to keep a lookout for your mom?”
Lightning lanced through her at the notion. She hadn’t even thought of the possibility. She grinned and Tulip started to look guilty. “I’m sorry to say this, Daffodil, but don’t get your hopes up. They might not be able to help. Daffodil shook her head. “Mama come.” Tulip smiled sadly and nodded with a hum, but consciously didn’t voice an agreement. “It would also be good to meet more people. They will be kind to you.”
She turned away but paused and turned her head to look at Daffodil again, meeting her eyes. “Don’t use your magic, even channeling, today. This is the first time you are receiving this boost so you won’t be used to handling this much magic at once. We will practice when you return and your magic settles.”
Daffodil nodded reluctantly. Truthfully, she had been feeling a little restless, even if her studies and work had kept her distracted. Plus her veins were still smoldering, and standing still made it feel like magma was pooling within them.
She watched Tulip walk away for a moment, and when she looked at Dahlia she saw he was distracted by an older couple. She bit her lip and walked towards the doors, feeling immediate relief as she moved.
The sun shone bright above the horizon, shining directly within the church’s doors. She squinted against the light.
She hesitated, her steps slowing as she reached the bottom.
“Deacon Daffodil!” A portly woman called out to her. Eyes of deepening yellow met eyes of pale orange. She stopped on the steps and gave her her full attention, she looked vaguely familiar. “Thank you so much for the other day! It’s so good to have another member of the clergy in our small village.” Both of her hands were grasped in a firm grip and the woman’s bangles jingled on her wrists. She gave her a small nod, subconsciously squeezing her hands gently.
She remembered her now, she was one of the visitors to the church during the week, and she had helped her revitalize a carnivorous plant that kept her house free from pests. She kept bees.
Something was pressed into her palm and she curiously took a look. A small wrapped candy laid there. The woman winked and then shuffled away so she didn’t have a chance to refuse it. “The bees give their thanks!” She laughed merrily, reddened cheeks rounding with glee. She stared as the woman walked away, meeting up with a group of older ladies who immediately circled her, bringing her into a bout of heated conversation. She looked away. “Thank you.” She mumbled.
Daffodil unwrapped the candy with careful hands, cradling it in her palm. It was a deep amber color and shone with a radiant luster.
She placed it on her tongue and it melted into an indescribably sweet flavor. Honey.
She placed the wrapper into her robe and took the final step, a smile tugging at her lips. Her tense shoulders relaxed and she felt some of her frustrations ebb away. The warmth of the sun combated the warmth in her veins, surprisingly making her feel very comfortable.
She turned and caught sight of a man in armor in the plaza. She steeled herself, fighting back the instinctual tensing of her muscles and fighting back the voice of her mama telling her to hide, to be small. Instead, she took a deep breath, just as Dahlia had taught her, and walked forward with small steps.