Astridr let a frown settle on her face as they walked south. The girl was as unstable as she thought, but the worst part was the talent she had in cultivating power. Even if she was sure that the Fae had something to do with her growth.

It was also clear that she had been picked due to her innate talent. Which was something the Shaman kept to themselves. Talent, like the density of Wyrd in a creature, was a major factor in how high someone could go.

The Conclave had been trying to push those of the greatest talent beyond the Karl stage for generations but there was always a bottleneck. A bottleneck that she had a feeling was due to the formation in the girl.

If she could see what it looked like it would likely change everything the Conclave had learned about cultivation over the generations. But, it wasn't likely to be something the girl would share easily or soon. She had the haunted look that Astridr had seen on children who lost parents in Beast attacks.

Considering how the Bloodaxe had thrown tradition and honor straight into the abyss. It wasn't a big surprise that survivors would have that reaction either. It was just going to take a long time to get her to come to terms with it.

Glancing up to check on her Astridr saw Ingrid walking steadily, but stiffly, like a wooden toy. She had clammed up after her breakdown earlier that day. The only life had come around high sun when she ran off to hunt.

At least she had said she was going off to hunt, but didn't return with anything. Though there was some light in her eyes for a bit while they ate.

"I..." Astridr cut herself off. It would be pointless to talk while the girl was like this. Better to wait, give her space, and keep steady around her. That was the training she received and would always follow.

"When I was a child," Ingrid said, causing Astridr to startle, "We lived in Harkin." The words were flat, but they were words to fill the travel.

"My... Olaf always said that we had thought about moving to the city south of us," Ingrid's tone broke slightly, her emotions cracking through, "It was to be when I got older..."

Silence held after that and Astridr didn't want to spend the energy to push things. Best to not waste energy, her teacher had always told her, a patient is the one to decide if they are ready not you.

While she owed Ingrid for saving her and helping her recover, it was not for her to make the first effort. Ingrid just needed time and something else to trigger the realizations. Until then, she would keep the girl alive.

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---

"A Healer isn't a healer." The young woman chanted from the front of the room. The smell of herbs and alcohol strong to those sitting on the benches around her.

"A healer is someone who knows enough of plants and the body to help it slowly recover. A Healer is someone who uses Seidr to do far more and far less." This brought some muttering through the room.

With only five people it wasn't as large as the class on Elemental Speaking or Oath Binding. So the teacher looked at all of them quickly bringing silence.

"I am sure you have been trained to see Seidr as the great power it is, yet it is no replacement for knowledge. This is why Healers are now trained by a healer." Her smile widened as one boy stood up.

"I was told this would be different, but a non-Shaman teaching us?!" His voice crackling still, "That's foolish when Seidr can replace a limb with a few days of work." The woman rushed him and jammed a finger into inner elbow before striking his chin with a palm.

His arm flopped to his side right before he slumped to the ground clearly out cold. The woman still held a hand up, gazing out at the rest of the class.

"I am no Shaman or Warrior, and yet I just disabled and could kill this Shaman." Her voice firm and slightly cold, "Initial or not, the skills of the mind and body aren't to be disregarded in my class."

Astridr watched with growing fascination. This was why she wanted to be a Healer. Not just for the training in healing and helping others, but for the skills this woman showed. Ever since she first came to the Conclave.

---

Ingrid focused on her internal world of lights and patterns. Her feet would do the walking she needed, but the really important things was inside of her right now.

She wasn't a fool to think that a Drang Warrior could fight and kill a Karl Warrior without much preparation of the field and Fate's favor. Even if Astridr had made good points about Fate guiding them where they were needed.

There was something frustrating about the word Fate to her now. Had it been Fate that brought the Bloodaxe to her home? Killed her father? Was that part of Fate's plan?

It stoked the fire and anger within her even as it drained her of purpose in a way. No one could go against Fate. When something was meant to be it happened, and if you bent Fate you gained Wyrd.

That was the true favor of Fate. Which meant Ingrid was only alive due to Fate, and all her power was Fate's. It made her chew her lip if she focused on it, so she focused on the swirling and pulsing lights within herself.

From the brightly glowing crimson-gold Heart to the faint blue-gold outline. The latter being the main focus of her mind. Seidr. It seemed to grant her the focus she needed, even with the flames of wrath burning brightly within.

It was the cold, fresh waters of the mountains and forest streams to her spiritual eyes. Yet, like the wind, she couldn't manipulate it like she could with the Megin within her. There wasn't a Heart to beat and make it move.

There wasn't a breath she knew to take to make it spin and flow like blood. It was just a beautiful light to reach for and feel flicker away like mist.

When her feelings started to rise up again she reached for Seidr and they settled down. It made her feel good to have this control over the one thing she felt there was no control over. The malady as she called them.

Even if this was the only power she could wrestle from Seidr it would be worth it.