#( all the magical artefacts and texts! )

[clochanamarch]

hit the heart if u want to be tagged in a starter where your muse joins aisling on a visit to her haunted family manor!

[cythiraeth]

beneath soft pillows and wool pt. I - i.e. you are struggling to sleep but your genshin lover is there for you

✧ ─ ⌑ pairing: gn!reader x al-haitham, lyney, neuvilette (separate)

✧ ─ ⌑ short summary: while you are having troubles with sleeping, your lover tries to find a way to comfort you! let's find out what would they do, if they found you not sleeping late into the night

✧ ─ ⌑ about the work: lowercase, fluff, reader overworking themselves

✧ ─ ⌑ notes: i'm back to life! the christmas mood really got me into working - on the contorary to the reader who finally gets some sleep in this one, i certainly did not get any for the two previous nights while i was finishing this up lolol anyway, enjoy! and remember that my requests are open, so feel free to messege me!

+ link to second part ☆ (featuring xiao, ganyu, ayato, yelan)

✧ ─ ⌑ word count: 1.5 k in total

they would give you a lecture about why sleeping at night is essential for your health, but then still put you back to sleep — al-haitham, lyney

al-haitham

the moon hung heavy in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the bustling streets of the sumeru city. you, however, were not admiring the night's beauty. you were hunched over your desk, a mountain of scrolls and research papers threatening to topple over. 

the faint scent of jasmine tea, long since chilled, lingered in the air. you had been at it for hours, absorbed in deciphering the intricate workings of a newly discovered artefact. suddenly a tall shadow fell over your work. you looked up in alarm to see al-haitham standing in the doorway, his expression a mixture of annoyance and concern.

"you should be asleep by now," he said, his voice a low rumble. you sighed, pushing a stray strand of hair back from your face. "i’m almost done," you murmured, your eyes glued to the complex diagrams before you.

"you've been saying that for the last three hours," he countered, his gaze unwavering. "you know that chronic sleep deprivation can lead to a wide range of health problems, from reduced cognitive function to an increased risk of chronic disease." you rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. he could talk for hours about the importance of a good night's sleep, citing scientific studies and ancient wisdom with equal fervor.

"i know, i know," you admitted, finally putting down your quill. "but this artefact is so fascinating, i just couldn't put it down."

al-haitham shook his head, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "you're impossible," he murmured, but his voice was soft, almost tender. "come, i'll put you to bed." 

"oh?" you let out a small sigh of surprise, for it wasn't often that he made such offers.

"just so i know you have finally fallen asleep," he quickly explained himself. he reached out and gently took your hand, leading you out of the study and down the hallway. you allowed him to lead you, your body tired from lack of sleep, but your mind still buzzing with excitement over the artefact.

as he tucked you into bed, you felt a wave of drowsiness wash over you. the warmth of his touch, the scent of his sandalwood cologne and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as he sat beside you all conspired to lull you into a state of peaceful slumber.

"rest," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. "you deserve it."

you closed your eyes, a contented sigh escaping your lips. al-haitham's lectures might be long and detailed, but his concern for you was undeniable. even if he didn't want to admit it out loud…

lyney

the soft glow of the moon painted the room silver, illuminating the piles of books and papers scattered across your desk. you were lost in a world of lore and legends, your fingers tracing the intricate script of a forgotten text. the air was thick with the scent of parchment and ancient magic, and you were lost in the story unfolding before you.

suddenly, a playful voice broke your concentration, "ahh, my dear, still up at this ungodly hour?" you looked up to see lyney leaning against the door, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"just finishing some research," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

"research? at this hour? you'll burn yourself out, my dear. fascinating as it is," he arched his brow, flipping the book in his hands to examine the cover "it won't be half as interesting if you're too tired to remember any of it tomorrow," he chided, his voice laced with concern. "don't you know that sleep is the key to unlocking the full potential of your magical abilities? i once stayed up all night trying to master a new illusion and the results were disastrous! i ended up turning myself into a giant purple squirrel." he chuckled, and you couldn't help but smile despite his theatrics.

“picture, or it didn’t happen…” you murmured quietly under your breath, so he wouldn't hear what you just said

“see? you’re too tired to even talk! you must go to bed immediately!” he chuckled, theatrically rushing you with his hand.

you opened your mouth to protest, but lyney raised a gloved finger to silence you, his expression softening as he bent down to meet your gaze. "listen," he began, "i know how tempting it is to squeeze every moment out of the night, but it's not worth sacrificing your health. sleep is not just for rest - it's when your mind processes everything. all those tricks you've seen me do? they wouldn't be half as good if i didn't get enough sleep to sharpen my focus."

"alright, alright, i get it," you said, putting down your quill. "i'll try to get some rest."

lyney raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "try? my dear, you don't try, you just do. come, i’ll put you to bed. i promise the book will still be here tomorrow."

he held out his hand, his fingers brushing yours, and you reluctantly put yours in his. he pulled you up with a flourish, like pulling a rabbit out of a hat. "there you go. now let's make this a little more magical."

with a flick of his wrist, lyney conjured a small flurry of glittering lights that floated around you like fireflies. "a little enchantment to light the way," he said, his voice soft.

"oh, lyney, they are so beautiful!" you whispered, seeing the reflections of those lights in his shining eyes.

without realising it, the weight of his lecture and the soothing glow of his conjured lights had lulled you into a haze of drowsiness, so that when he tucked you in to sleep in your room, your eyes were already closing

"sleep well, my dear," he whispered, his voice soft and soothing. "and remember, a well-rested mind is a powerful mind."

they would be very concerned and would come to the bed with you — neuvilette

neuvilette

the moonlight streamed into your shared bedroom, painting the walls a silvery hue. the clock ticked softly, a persistent reminder that the hour was far past for reasonable wakefulness. you sat on the edge of the bed, knees drawn to your chest as you stared out the window, the world outside quiet, but your mind anything but. the nightmares had come again - visceral, inescapable shadows that lingered even in wakefulness.

you hadn't intended to wake him. neuvillette deserved his rest, especially with the burdens he carried as fontaine's chief justice. but despite your quiet movements, the subtle change in the rhythm of your breathing must have alerted him. his voice, low and concerned, broke the silence. "why are you awake, mon trésor?” you jumped slightly as you turned to find his pale lavender eyes soft with concern. he was already sitting up, his silken hair falling in gentle waves over his shoulders, illuminated by the moonlight.

"it's nothing," you murmured, trying to sound reassuring. "go back to sleep, neuvillette."

but he wasn't convinced. you should have known better; neuvillette had always been perceptive, especially when it came to you. he moved closer, his hands reaching out to gently cradle yours. his touch was warm, grounding.

"you have been troubled for several nights now," he said, his voice a soothing rumble. "and now you won't even try to rest. please, tell me what's wrong.”

you hesitated, the words caught in your throat. it felt silly, almost childish, to admit that nightmares had kept you awake, but the intensity in his gaze told you he wouldn't let it go. finally you whispered, "the nightmares... i keep seeing things i can't escape. and when i wake up, it feels like they're still there."

his expression softened further, and without a word, he pulled you into his arms. you melted into his embrace, his steady heartbeat a balm to your frayed nerves. "you should have told me," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "you don't have to bear this alone."

neuvillette rose from the bed and gently guided you to lie down. he slid under the covers with you, making sure you were wrapped in warmth. his arms circled around you tightly, and he rested his chin lightly on your head.

"close your eyes," he said softly. "i will stay with you until you fall asleep. should the nightmares return, i will chase them away."

"but you need to rest too," you protested weakly, though the comfort of his presence was already easing the tension in your body.

"i rest best when you are at peace," he replied, his voice filled with quiet conviction. "so let me be here for you.”

with neuvillette's steady presence and the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath, the grip of the nightmares began to loosen. for the first time in days, you felt the edges of sleep pull you under - not with fear, but with a sense of safety. and as your eyelids grew heavy, you thought you heard him whisper:

"i will always be here to protect you, no matter the hour.”

⌞⌑ cythiraeth - 25.12.2024. please, do not copy, claim as yours or share outside tumblr! ⌑⌝

[paganimagevault]

Four images of Thor 'The Wind Raiser' 8th-11th C. CE.

"Perkins provides numerous written examples of Norse sailors attempting to conjure up wind magic, often through the invocation of the God Thor, who is charged with special responsibility for the weather. Perkins relies on a detailed explication of a passage from the little known Icelandic þáttr (tale) to argue that, as with his better-known hammer-wielding influence over thunder, the God's control of the wind is instrumental. Perkins interprets the terms skeggrödd and skeggraust (each meaning 'beard-voice') as the act of Thor blowing out the wind. The central argument of this work is that the Eyrarland image is a plastic representation of Thor carrying out this process, using his beard in the manner of a wind instrument. Perkins is an accomplished philologist and his reading of the passage is convincing. However it is a limitation that the text is provided only in Old Norse, though passages in Latin and Russian are translated. Old Norse texts will continue to be marginalized in medieval studies if they are not made accessible to those outside the rather narrow discipline of Norse studies. An engaging and technical discussion of Scandinavian artefacts and texts will always find an audience there but other scholars are prevented from fully appreciating this argument if they cannot understand the critical texts. The argument that Thor was visualized as blowing out the wind, and that he was invoked to influence the wind leads to the conclusion that the Eyrarland image and other similar artefacts can be identified as amulets carried by those, presumably sailors, who most wanted to control the wind. Perkins briefly mentions a strikingly similar image to the Eyrarland image, the bronze Rällinge image. As this small figure is in rather an excited condition, he is usually identified with the fertility God Freyr, an identification with which Perkins concurs. However the Rällinge image too is stroking his beard, in the gesture which Perkins repeatedly characterizes as Thor's wind-raising ritual. Frustratingly, this parallel is not explored. The remaining sections of the book follow this conclusion into archaeological territory. Perkins focuses specifically on four small figures, including the Eyrarland image. The figurines were found as far apart as Iceland and the Ukraine, and made from media ranging from carved amber to cast bronze but Perkins identifies in them distinctive characteristics which, he argues, type them all as representative of Thor in his wind-raising capacity. These symbolic qualities range from the general observation that they tend to have the glaring eyes and muscular physique appropriate for textual accounts of the 'bruiser' God (p. 70), to the very specific feature that each of them appears to be holding his beard like a wind instrument and blowing into it."

-Thor the Wind-Raiser and the Eyrarland Image (review) by Katrina Burge, University of Melbourne 2005. The 3 bottom images are from the GermanicMythology website.

[alpaca-clouds]

Something that confuses me about the storytelling in BG3

Honestly, the more I read up on the backstories and everything and on the lore of the Dead Three, the more confusing everything gets.

Because the Dead Three had no only all died in some way prior to the game, they also are technically half-bound to mortal bodies at the point the game takes place, even though they keep their divine powers. Because of the Second Sundering and stuff.

Technically the game actually acknolwedges this at the very beginning through a line when you find Jergal's book. Sure, technically it does not say who it was - but the book notices that there are three that only quite recently have come back to life.

Now, alright, technically the "recent" stuff is a bit more complicated.

Bhaal is the one of course that gives me (and everyone writing on Durge) the most headache. Bhaal was slain by Cyric in 1358 DR during the time of troubles. And sure, canon makes a big point out of the fact that he foresaw this outcome and because of that impregnated so many women hoping to be able to return through the Bhaalspawn he fathered. He then got revived in 1482, just two years before the Second Sundering, and ten years before the events of BG3.

And that makes Durge just very complicated. Because of course the game always speaks of Durge being created by Bhaal, with an implication that Durge might not have been born naturally but crafted by magic. But in that case he would have either needed to be born past 1482 (so be less than 10 years old) or pre-1358 (so be about 130 years old). And yeah, canon Durge is a Dragonborn, who despite their draconic heiritage actually do not live very long. Sure, Durge could be immortal, but... It is still all very confusing.

Then we have Bane. He also got killed during the times of troubles, also in the year of 1358 DR. However, him getting revived did not happen quite that late. He gut revived in 1372 so 120 years prior to the game. He then spent the years since gathering his power once more and reestablishing his old alliances.

Myrkul meanwhile is a bit more complicated. Because, yes, you guessed it, he got slain in 1358 as well, but he managed to get his grabby little fingers onto an artefact (ironically also a crown) through which he kinda continued to exist and was able to have some agency. Though ironically we do not fully know how he got restored from that state. (There is some speculation that in fact it was Ketheric who managed to restore him - maybe knowingly, maybe unknowingly.)

Hence, with Myrkul we do not even know when exactly he returned. He just... did.

Still, due to the Dark Urge being the figure they are... Bhaal's death and very late resurrection is the main thing that gives me a headache here. It does not really make sense.

If it was not with the fact that the text hammers on about them being created by Bhaal himself, it would be easy. You could just say that they are a second or third generation Bhaalspawn. There are more than enough of those around. But the game just keeps focusing on them being first generation in some regard.

Like, sure, if you personally played an elf-Durge or a drow-Durge, that is not that much of an issue. For the elven kin those 134 years are nothing. But again, canon Durge is a Dragonborn, who tend to have a lifespan of like 80 years. So, uhm... It is very, very confusing.

[vincesaturn]

i've decided to commit myself to a worldbuilding project - it's called lhitkud, which is based on the land in which one of my main characters - as shown above, reside in!

some basic lore that i've come up with so far - tlhukyil ylthya, who lives in a world with many different races such as elves, dwarfs, halflings, anthromorphs,... that can all use magical artefacts (from trivial to powerful) but only wizards carry magic within themselves, which our guy here is one. wizards usually keep their identity secret, reside in remote places and communicate to each other through texts.

i'm also working on a conlang for my world! it's my first time doing so so please don't expect excellence, i thought it'd be sort of fun!

i'll try my best to update this every day. check my tag lhitkud AU if you are interested

[rosescore245]

Zelda Ramble: Vaati

I felt the need to talk about blorbos and by god i shall, christmas gift for y'all!

Vaati is a very interesting character to me, with or without my personal headcanons. His presumed motivation, told to Link in Minish Cap by Ezlo, is purely that Vaati fell into obsession over the evil of mankind, but that doesn't make much sense, does it?

EDIT: Stating here that I accept asks! If anyone wants to ask for my opinion on a certain Zelda character from any game, I'll be happy to blab all of my thoughts on them! I can't promise a massive block of text, but I can promise a thoughtful paragraph or two at the very least! Just give a name (even something like "that weird guy in the blue-ish shop") and the game and I will FORM thoughts haha

[Rest of RAMBLE Below!]

Every Minish Link met during his journey in the first game was sickeningly optimistic. To the point that even Minish like 2 feet away from Murder Mittens Cats were quite cheerful, and the Minish who literally did ALL of the shoemaker's job were glad to do so. Even the Crenel Minish were very optimistic despite a much harsher climate and hardworking culture. That is why I am assuming that the magic that fuels the Minish existence makes them inherently Good and Light, for lack of better words. Thoughts of undeserved ill-will do not show up in any conversations Link has with the Minish, so I assume that Minish feel no need to inconvenience others.

So Vaati's original motivation was not malicious, but became so when he transformed into a Hylian. I personally do subscribe to the theory that Ezlo was a very old-fashioned, strict, and unsympathetic teacher to Vaati, and Ezlo learns how to be a better person while traveling with Link, though never perfect. The Minish Cap Legendary Manga has hints of this in the Bonus Panels, where Ezlo and Vaati have a very negative relationship, honestly. Ezlo sends him searching for a full day for a herb that does not exist, both wasting time and damaging Vaati's self esteem and trust in Ezlo as a teacher. Though, Ezlo also apparently, according to the manga (and I QUOTE), is, "going to all the singles' parties in town." So it's not the most Serious source, though 2/4 of the Bonus Comics are Ezlo outright saying multiple times that he is hard on Vaati, sooo.

Vaati was not fulfilled in his apprenticeship with Ezlo, that is certain! He felt like he was not learning anything of note, and so he wanted to Actually get stronger, not whatever this was. When Ezlo started making the Wishing Cap, I genuinely think Vaati thought he was a moron. An all-powerful artefact that doesn't have any safety measures? AND he trusted HYLIANS to use it? I personally believe that Vaati had bad experiences around Hylians before, and I have a whole Tragic Backstory or whatever, but the only part that matters for his Distrust is this: I believe that, during a minor flood, Vaati was swept off from his home and into the center of a panicking Hyrule Town, and, as a young Minish who had NEVER seen a Hylian before, his first impression was a bunch of frightened people acting out with panic and anger at the situation. He had no reason to trust the tales told about how great Hylians were when his only experience was genuinely horrible, so excuse him for thinking leaving a completely unguarded magical, reality-bending wish-granting HAT in the hands of Hyrule wasn't a good idea.

A combination of feeling Ezlo as incompetant and cruel, his yearning to actually learn something to make him a powerful asset to the Minish, AND his trauma with Hylians compelled him to steal the cap and use it. Though he didn't like Hylians, he knew they were strong, and there were likely many great mages among them. Sure, he knew of the Light Force and Picori Blade, but they weren't part of his plan until the magic that made him Minish was removed by the Wishing Cap. The moment that Light was pushed away, Vaati only had his own negativity and Wind magic by his side, which set him thinking.

He wanted to become powerful before, but now that Minish Magic wasn't flowing through his core, there was nothing stopping the plan from spiraling from ambitious into malicious. Especially since I also have a theory that Demise's Curse is not necessarily a reincarnating soul, but a disease in the hearts of all living things aside from the Hero's Spirit and Hylia's Children (Link and the Royal Family essentially), so ANYONE could have a "flare up" and become a vessel of Demise, which is why multiple avatars of Demise's will have existed at one time. When the Minish Magic was no longer keeping his heart pure, it was very, very easy for the Curse to flare up and consume him.

So innocent enough ambition is warped into demented malice as he begins his takeover and chaos-bringing path.

Of course, the story's pretty cut and dry after that, Link reforges the holy blade, takes Vaati down with the power of Clones, all is well. But the Four Sword is special, I believe in many things about it. The most relevant are as follows:

The Four Sword takes in power from the elements used to forge it anew. Therefore, as long as it is at least able to touch Air, it will literally only grow more powerful. When it is able to touch Earth AND Air, it's accelerated, and if Water joins in (rain) then it's like a boost. If someone decided to light the resting place on Fire, then that would also only benefit. This is how I explain its growing power over the games/mangas, from Minish Cap's mindless and fragile clones to Four Swords' solid mindless clones, to Four Swords Adventures having four entirely independent copies of an individual. Keep in mind I believe this power intake IS very slow, but constant.

The Four Sword applies four different types of seals. Earth fuels the seal on the Mind, such as logical thinking and sanity. Fire fuels the seal on the Memory, obviously memories and emotions. Water seals aspects of the Body, mobility, forms the sealed may have taken. Wind seals the Soul, the essence of an individual, the personality, magic too. These seals are independent from one another and can be broken at different times. They also have a taste for devouring the magic, and, well, Vaati is a meaty morsel. The seals wear him down over time baseline.

Vaati is freed multiple times after he is first sealed, but the first time is particularly intriguing. In the Game, Four Swords, Vaati has a very simple motivation---he wants a wife. Which he never had ANY desire for before.

So what happened?

Well, I believe that only a few of the seals broke. The Earth merely cracked, Fire holds strong, Water is cracked, and the Wind is completely broken. Vaati only has access to his demonic body, a small amount of logical thinking, and all of his magic and personality. But he doesn't remember much of anything about his Before. I am personally using the official Timeline's spacing here, so I would apply the first 4swords about 100 years after MC, making the Zelda of the game MC's granddaughter/great-granddaughter. And let's be honest, I think the ONLY timeline with DECENT record-keeping is the Adult Timeline, which is surprising because LITERALLY EVERYTHING FLOODED. Some information was lost, yes, but it's basically all THERE, they have a TRADITION with the HERO OF TIME'S MEMORY. Thus, I believe that the Link and Zelda of the first 4swords were not well-informed on how Vaati SHOULD have been.

Blah blah blah, Vaati isn't acting like himself, he's sealed again, and time passes. Timeline gets turned into a shit smoothie, and for some reason Vaati only ends up being notably released in the Child Timeline. I personally think Vaati fucking drowned when he came out in the Adult Timeline, and the people of the Downfall Timeline were so battle-hardened that they didn't really need a hero to kill his ass. Only the relatively-peaceful Child Timeline was just right for him to both not die immediately and also be able to cause any ripple in the Daily Routine.

But something was WRONG with him. The once super chatty and prideful Vaati literally doesn't have a single line. He doesn't even have his usual dramatic entrance, just sends the Links flying with some air and dips (in the game, not Manga. As much as I love the manga, I usually apply the Manga Elements to the Base Game because the Game has More Substance for their adventure). He's not himself. He's not THERE. A husk wearing a familiar face, no memory, no real personality, no logic, really. More animal than person. More monster than man.

The Vaati that started it all had long since been consumed, only the last dregs of him escaped at all. A tragic end for a fun character.

Lmao this thing is literally so long and I tried to make it shorter by not just spouting off every headcanon I have. Sorry, but it's my thing! Let me know your own thoughts if you want to, I love hearing others' opinions and theories. Heck, tell me to kms if you wanna, it would be funny---disagree with everything I said and kick me in my nonexistent balls.

Happy holidays, hope you all had a nice and tasty meal and a warm night in comfy blankets. Pet an animal if you so choose, drink something because it's good for you, remember some of you have work tomorrow, sadly.

[raayllum]

Hello! One thing I’ve been excited about by Runaan’s return is that he clearly knows something of Aaravos- which may or may not mean Ethari does. It could due to a number of factors, so narrowing down a why is difficult: dragon guard friends; working as the assassin leader directly reporting to the dragon monarchs; some kind of work related he must have seen places when out killing people experience (dark mages having Aaravos links is rather established); or else Xadian specific trivia/cultural lore Rayla either hasn’t heard to to interest, obscurity or being somewhat othered over her parents post the dragon guard’s failure so tales about Aaravos were suddenly taboo with his artefacts possibly missing. But, irregardless of how to a degree, in consideration of texts blurring out Aaravos’ name in Katolis in earlier seasons I’m really hoping we get something more in expansion of how Xaadia tells what went down (hopefully paralleled with what Aaravos is saying to Claudia!) and think there’s a possibility to make Runaan’s revival pull extra narrative weight efficiently!

Also Runaan calls the mirror a fate worse than death before then sort of dying in season one and that’s sort of answered as it’s Aaravos’ way to access the living world from his prison a bit sure but that is still a thing that expansion on would be delightful to see.

But the reason I thought to use an ask format is your beloved cube- it was taken at the same time as the mirror and is a magical artefact. So, I must ask if your forensic following of it’s every screenshot has you thinking Runaan may give insight into the key in any way or at least recognise it too! There’s no pressure intended, of course, but I thought it may be up your alley oohing and aahing to at least read and it could do no harm to direct your way enthusiastically.

I think realistically Runaan didn't/doesn't know more than what Lain and Tiadrin presumably did (hence trying to get one of the Dragonguard to take the egg, but they were still going to stay behind; in my mind, this was because of the mirror). They knew the mirror held something dangerous and awful ('worse than death') and possibly that it was a Startouch elf, but I'm not banking on them knowing his name considering that even Janai—a queen and descendant of Aditi (which makes me think that Aaravos wasn't even suspect in her death at the time) with the resources of the Great Bookery—didn't know him by name.

In my mind we've largely gotten Xadia's take on things (Zubeia) from someone who would have context. I think if we're going to get another lore drop that's not from Aaravos himself (as he'll have to explain some things to Claudia and Terry in S7), it'd reasonably be tied to Kpp'Ar given that he was participating in "ancient" magics / knows something about the Staff of Ziard (Aaravos' gift) that Viren never has. There's also other clues in supplementary material (book 2 novelization, Puzzle House graphic novel) that Kpp'Ar knows more about stuff related to Aaravos and deep magic than we've seen so far.

I think Runaan is out of the coin for 3 main reasons beyond just "Runaan gets to reunite and be happy with Ethari" (which is, to be fair, a decently good reason all on its own):

Xadia has to prove that it's not like the Cosmic Council. And they can do so, because Runaan changing will likely reflect the Silvergrove changing, and moving away from a place where they're willing to literally and/or metaphorically murder children (hi Ezran and Rayla respectively)

Runaan coming back is going to challenge Ezran and his efforts towards peace / breaking the cycle in a way that it is unlikely another character could.

Runaan is there to provide either a contrast or guidance to Rayla when it comes to love vs duty. He put duty above all else and seemingly regrets it, believing that it turned him into a monster, and this may help Rayla put love over duty next season (and thereby save Callum + humanity's hopes for primal magic by extension).

By being here he's absolutely going to further / already has furthered certain themes or ideas (father-daughter relationships, parent-child reconciliation, knowledge of the Moon arcanum and life/death which may be very important next season) but I don't think any of him as a character is particularly tied to knowledge about Aaravos more than what the main cast currently knows. I think Callum (and maybe Kpp'Ar) with help from Ezran (bc Orphan Queen royal lineage) or Zubeia could know or discover something about the cube going forward; I expect Callum to have fully solved That Mystery by the end of S7.

[magicofsimplestories]

8. The Christmas of Wonders

Winter was Cassandra’s favourite season but that winter in Moonwood Mill she could surely call the best of all her winters. 

Moonwood changed in a blink of an eye. It was the rustle of falling leaves that put Cassandra to sleep in the evening, and the next morning the wind of the snowstorm woke her up. The woods around Lou’s shack changed into a frosty white outfit, the Lunvik Lake hid under the coat of shiny ice, and the starry sky over the town was invaded by the smoke of fireplaces. 

They celebrated the first snow with making snowmen and snow angels, and decorating their Christmas tree. The next day they got back to their business. Cassandra had her morning classes with the wolflings and evening magic practice in Glimmerbrook. Lou was busy with digging up ancient artefacts and drowning in old texts in his quest for the true story of how the werewolves had come to be. 

So far he managed to collect and decipher a dozen of fragments learning that the crazy wolf Greg from the depths of Moonwood was actually the Mooncaster Greggorius Lunvik, who had embraced his familiar’s beastly character but failed to learn controlling it. His wife Avalina dedicated most of her life to studying Fury, but wasn’t able to finish her research (mysteriously disappeared after her death) due to an accident that took her life. The loss of his fated mate drove Greggorius completely mad and he lost his ability to return back to his human form. On the contrary, the Volkov Mooncasters - Maria and John - were famous for their full control of Fury. However, Lou didn’t manage to find any information on the source of their ability. 

As for the lycanthropy cure, from the old herbology books Lou learnt that wolfsbane could be found around Moonwood at any season. However, the moonpetal, or “the flower of the full moon”, as the Mooncasters called it, appeared on the top of the Moonwood cliff only on the full moon. 

“Ah, I have a solution to that,” claimed Cassandra.

Lou frowned.

“No, Cassie, you are not going to climb the mountain alone while a dozen of furious werewolves are running around the woods,” he said darkly.

She laughed. 

“I was not planning to. There’s another way.”

“What way?”

“You will see soon.”

“Cassie…”

“Patience, Lou,” she cut him off. “The closest full moon is on Christmas, and you will be ready for it.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“Cassie, I don’t know what you’re plotting but if it’s about your magic…”

“No,” she cut him off again. “It’s about magic but not mine.”

“I hate it when you speak in riddles,” grumbled Lou. 

Cassie laughed again.

“Spending time with Dorian has its downsides.”

Their Christmas morning started from a late breakfast and went on turning on the lights on the tree, cozy research at the fireplace and snow fun in the woods around the shack. 

With the evening the time for gift giving arrived. 

“All right,” Cassie said stretching a gift box to Lou. “This is what I was talking about. This is our solution to the full moon problem.” 

Lou’s eyebrows went up. 

“What is it?”

She laughed. 

“Open it already!”

He gasped looking at the content of the box. 

“Cassie,” he breathed out. “It must be…”

So expensive, he wanted to say, but Cassandra cut him off.

“It’s a magic ring,” she said. “The moonstone will help you restrain your Fury on the full moon. Its powers are not long-lasting though. You need to charge it in the moonlight every two days. I know how to do it. Dorian taught me.”

“And Dorian must be the one who made the ring,” said Lou taking the ring out and putting it on. “Cassie, I don’t even know how to thank you…”

“A simple thank you and a hug will be more than enough,” she smiled. “Today you will collet the moonpetal, and then I will finally be able to start experimenting with the cure recipe.”

“Thank you,” he whispered in her hair taking her in his arms. “I have a gift for you too, actually. And it seems that we have turned to the same gift maker this year,” he added watching awe on Cassandra’s face.

“No way,” she gasped taking out a shockingly beautiful necklace. “Lou Howell, you must be kidding! It is gorgeous!”

They separated after another long and warm hug. Cassandra went to the room to try on her gift, and Lou headed to the Moonwood cliff. It was getting close to midnight, and he didn’t want to miss the proper time for collecting the moonpetal. 

He climbed up the cliff and his heart started an excited race when he noticed a feeble while glimmer of the while flowers. The ancient text did not lie. His road to curing his disease continued. 

On his way back to the shack he noticed two furious wolves fighting behind the bushes. He exhaled and hurried up along the wood path lit with bright moon light. It was strange to look at the full moon in full consciousness. Hopefully, one day he would not need any magic artefacts to do so. 

Cassandra was making tea when he arrived. 

“So?” She asked. “Did it work? Did you find it?”

He smiled and showed her the flowers. She jumped and clapped her hands in excitement but noticing his sudden sad uncertainty she stepped closer to him, and he felt the calming warmth of her hand on his cheek. 

“We will manage it, Lou,” she said in a low voice. “I promise you, we will make the cure.”

[Part I] [Beginning] [Back] [Next]

[revoevokukil]

Sapkowski the Pagan: The Grail & The Goddess

Andrzej Sapkowski and Stanisław Bereś. 2005. Historia i fantastyka

One of the more fascinating features of Sapkowski's writing is the intertextuality of his works; their relation not only to preceding legends and fantasy, but also to his own works. There are several topics and ideas that repeat, in various shapes, throughout. As I am going through the Hussite Trilogy right now, I am taking notes.

Among his works I herein count The Witcher, The Hussite Trilogy & The World of King Arthur. Maladie. The latter must constitute the closest we have gotten so far to authorial research notes on ideas of interest.

The ley lines (so far):

Humanim, i.e. decency

(Erotic) Love's salving & dooming qualities Amantes amentes. Those who love are out of their minds. Take heart. Have pity.

Woman, the Grail of being

Fairy tales brought to life (but there's a snag)

Prophecies/Grand narratives

Folk stories & beliefs

Witchcraft

The Cult of the Goddess, the Great Mother, The One who is Three

The perishing of the old (but not quite disappearing) & the brutal onset of the new. Change and upheaval.

Common sense vs idealism vs pragmatism

Anti-taxes, anti-clergy

Anti-fanaticism

The Grail & The Goddess

"For the Goddess has many names. And still more faces."

First, Andrzej Sapkowski construing Ciri as The Holy Grail is documented. It's not merely conjecture based on the text(s), although the text overwhelmingly declares it.

Cutali, Daniele. 2015. Interview with Andrzej Sapkowski

But so what?

The Witcher is an extremely allusive and meta-literary work. It deconstructs mythical matter and fantasy canon in the same breath as establishing itself in the eternal mythical present of legends. It completes itself as a self-aware analogue, because everything has already happened, and everything has already been written about. And Ciri - Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon - sits at the centre of its method and madness; not only the axis of plot events, but also the spindle of its meta text. It's apparent already in her name. O Elaine, O Rhiannon. All Christian legends have a pagan origin. This Polish newborn has Arthurian origins. And Arthurian itself…?

In The World of King Arthur, Andrzej Sapkowski gives his account of the Arthuriana's transformation through centuries of re-writes. It is self-evident for him that for anyone to understand anything at all about Arthur, they need to orient in the history of the British Isles and in Celtic mythology.[1] Arthur was, in all probability, a Celt. And so was the Grail, if not even more ancient. 'The Grail - like almost every element of the Arthurian legend - has its origins in Celtic mythology. This is absolutely certain and has been confirmed many times,' he writes in Świat króla Artura. So what did Arthur believe? What views and values lay at the heart of the world in which he originated? Why is this relevant for a more meaningful reading of The Witcher?

Because the world of the Celts, as so many pre-Christian cosmologies, was a living world - an animistic, self-eating and self-renewing entity, cyclical, circular, without beginning or end, embracing life out of death - and Ciri is a living Grail. Ideas repeat in Andrzej Sapkowski's writing.

Ciri, a living Grail. A girl. A young woman. A Goddess. She who is Triple. A source of rebirth and hope, of death too. Strange magic is enclosed in her veins, as in Ceriddwen's Cauldron, that is of the essence of life. Cauldrons abound in Celtic mythos (be you Dagda, hero Cuchulainn, Brân or Pwyll, you got your hands on a cauldron eventually). But Ciri does not need to be rendered an artefact in order to hold power, because… she is a woman. That alone is enough.

Sapkowski's appreciation for compelling female characters should be well-known.

Sapkowski, A. 1995. The World of King Arthur. Maladie

'Celtic mythology,' Sapkowski notes in Świat, 'is mainly about the love life of the gods.' Gods fighting, scheming, and transcending themselves for goddesses. It's called the oldest story in the world; girl meets boy. But that's not quite the beginning of it: in the beginning, we're all born to a mother.

The Grail's functions and characteristics are notably maternal and feminine, and the mystery and nature of the Grail's power is love.

Sapkowski, A. 1995. The World of King Arthur. Maladie

Great, White, Triple

Who? And what features?

The ability to provide food is the property of the Grail most often referred to. Nourishment. Revitalization. Mother is the only parent who may truly feed her child with her body. Or give birth. The Chalice symbolically representing the "Womb of the Mother" is a very old idea. Old and basic. The most basic. Bernard of Clairvaux even calls upon Mary, saying: "Offer your son, sacred Virgin, and present the blessed fruit of your womb to God. Offer the blessed host, pleasing to God, for the reconciliation of us all" (qtd. in Bynum, 268). But we'll talk about the role of Christianity and symbolism another time. For first, we are pagans.

"Drawing from various sources, I assumed that – although I am not a blind follower of this theory – the feminine element dominates in nature. If there is any cult not related to politics, it is the cult of the Great Mother, the Goddess. The belief in the male God, Yahweh, worshiped by Jews, had a political character – Yahweh was invented because he had to be invented to maintain certain social structures. For primitive people, the mysterious, divine element was exclusively femininity, the ability to give life. However, I emphasize that I am not defending these theories from a religious studies standpoint; they simply resonate with me." - Andrzej Sapkowski and Stanisław Bereś. 2005. Historia i fantastyka

This idea that resonates with Andrzej Sapkowski so strongly as to appear in virtually everything he has written was re-kindled as an ideology by the neo-Celtic, neo-pagan Wicca movement (Gardner, Murray, Starhawk, et al). Foundational text: The White Goddess by Robert Graves. The idea precedes the Celts though, and, at heart, revolves around nature and man being inseparable.

Ceridwen is one of the forms of the Celtic Goddess, and her cauldron is the womb-cauldron of rebirth and inspiration. In early Celtic myth, the cauldron of the Goddess restored slain warriors to life. It was stolen away to the Underworld, and the heroes who warred for its return were the originals of King Arthur and his Knights, who quested for its later incarnation, the Holy Grail. The Celtic afterworld is called the Land of Youth, and the secret that opens its door is found in the cauldron: The secret of immortality lies in seeing death as an integral part of the cycle of life. Nothing is ever lost from the universe: Rebirth can be seen in life itself, where every ending brings a new beginning. Most Witches do believe in some form of reincarnation. This is not so much a doctrine as a gut feeling growing out of a world view that sees all events as continuing processes. Death is seen as a point on an ever-turning wheel, not as a final end. We are continually renewed and reborn whenever we drink fully and fearlessly from “the cup of wine of life.” - Starhawk. 1979. The Spiral Dance

Nature's heartbeat resounds in reincarnation through reproduction. The gentle fury of love.

“Listen to the words of the Goddess, whose arms and thighs are wrapped around the Universe!” called the shaman. “Who, at the Beginning, divided the Waters from the Heavens and danced on them! From whose dance the wind was born, and from the wind the breath of life!” “I am the beauty of the green earth,” said the Domina, and her voice was like the wind from the mountains. “I am the white moon among a thousand stars, I am the secret of the waters. Come to me, for I am the spirit of nature. All things arise from me and all must return to me, before my visage, beloved by the gods and mortals.” “Eiaaa!” “I am Lilith, I am the first of the first, I am Astarte, Cybele, Hecate, I am Rigatona, Epona, Rhiannon, the Night Mare, the lover of the gale. Black are my wings, my feet are swifter than the wind, my hands sweeter than the morning dew. The lion knows not when I tread, the beast of the field and forest cannot comprehend my ways. For verily do I tell you: I am the Secret, I am Understanding and Knowledge.” "Worship me deep in your hearts and in the joy of the rite, make sacrifices of the act of love and bliss, because such sacrifices are dear to me. For I am the unsullied virgin and I am the lover of gods and demons, burning with desire. And verily do I say: as I was with you from the beginning, so you shall find me at the end." Sapkowski, A. 2002. The Tower of Fools

It is for this reason the Irish recorded so many songs of aitheds - motifs of female abduction. It is for this reason one of the earliest legends of the search of the Grail is the tale of the hero Culhwch's quest for the hand of Olwen, who, wherever she stepped, made four white clovers bloom under her feet.[2] It is why Ciri, the living Grail in whom the function of the Goddess has been doubled, finds herself in a double-bind; as the keeper of power and immortality she is more frequently seen as means to an end rather than an end in herself. Not unusual for any failed relationship where the parties confuse love for something else. And while we are confusing notions of erotic and spiritual love, the Question of the Grail which must be asked of the Fisher King, undoubtedly, still comes down to a question about love.

Sapkowski, A. 1995. The World of King Arthur. Maladie

Celtic mythology is about the love life of the gods. The longing for a union; that completes. That turns the wheel and closes the cycle. That revitalizes, heals, nourishes, allows for flourishing. That immortalizes; if not oneself, then at least a moment. And what is life but fleeting moments, grains of sand passing through an hourglass?

Sapkowski, A. Something Ends, Something Begins

It can get confusing. The Goddess has many names and many faces, and three aspects.

Sapkowski, A. 1995. The World of King Arthur. Maladie

As to the inherent eroticism of the Grail, well…

Sapkowski, A. 1995. The World of King Arthur. Maladie

He wanted to tell her everything, but the words stuck in his tight throat. She saw it. She knew. How could she not? For only in Reynevan’s eyes, stupefied by happiness, was she a maiden, a trembling virgin who was embracing him, eyes closed and biting her lower lip in painful ecstasy. For any wise man—had there been one nearby—the matter was clear: she was no shy and inexperienced young lass, but rather a goddess proudly receiving the homage due to her. And goddesses know and see everything. And do not expect homage in the form of words. She pulled him onto her and the eternal rite began. - Sapkowski, A. 2002. The Tower of Fools

Sapkowski's interest for the fates of men in the power of the Goddess is only surpassed by his hope for the triumph of common sense and humanism. And the mystery of the Grail - what unleashes its power? - is of both sexual and platonic variety. Humanity is important. Heart. As in Wolfram von Eschenbach's Parzival. As per Campbell: 'The big moment in the medieval myth is the awakening of the heart to compassion, the transformation of passion into compassion. That is the whole problem of the Grail stories, compassion for the wounded king.' [4]

Thanks to Ciri, the story of Geralt of Rivia - a grail knight who set out with his hanza in search of a dream - is ennobled and raised on par with King Arthur. It is Yennefer and Geralt's love and compassion and sacrifice for Ciri, which ultimately heals them. An echo of love for his daughter melts the ice shard in the heart of an Emperor. The mystery and nature of the Grail's power resides in love.

"Love has many names,” said Hans Mein Igel suddenly, “and it will determine your fate, young herbalist. Love. It will save your life when you won’t even know that it is love. For the Goddess has many names. And still more faces.” - Sapkowski, A. 2002. The Tower of Fools

By the end of The Witcher, Ciri's journey as the Goddess has barely begun. And what has begun has begun traumatically. Her journey to know herself, to find, forgive, understand, and accept (or reject) the Grail within, has not yet dawned. She remains in a liminal space between the Maiden and the Woman after having, already and much too early, worn the guise of Death, the Crone. The author doesn't tell; he lets the reader wonder. For before Ciri is everything. But Grail, the Goddess, requires something, and also empowers with what she requires.

Sapkowski, A. 2002. The Tower of Fools

Love leads spring into the Waste Land of the human heart.

Love, compassion, willingness to suffer with and for another, readiness to transcend one's own pain, selfishness, and rage. For three things last forever: faith, hope, and love - and the greatest of these is love.[3]

-----

[1]: Sapkowski mainly used Mythology by Thomas Bulfinch, Celtic Myth and Legend, Poetry and Romance by Charles Squire and Mabinogion. [2]: In order to marry Olwen, Culhwch must take her from her father, but Ysbaddaden will first set him on an endless quest; a list of long and laborious tasks. In the name of a woman. [3]: Or, as The Tower of the Swallow renders it: 'Are, then, Chaos, art and learning according to you, the Powers capable of changing the world? A curse, a blessing and progress? And aren't they by any chance Faith? Love? Sacrifice?' [4]: Campbell, J. 1991. The Power of Myth

[realspacejunk]

Motivated by this Tweet by @delta86-art I decided to share a Character description for Lito, the Quilava character from the cast of Pokémon I include in my drawings, which I wrote some time ago. I have not worked out the details for all the others, but I have solid ideas for what they are like.

I also have it as a PDF but Tumblr does not allow me to upload those, so here is the Google doc.

Here is the raw text without pictures:

Lito Ayrura, the Little Flame (or Flame Choker)

Race: Quilava

Gender: Male

Age: 14

Height: 0,87m / 2’10’’

Hobbies: Trying to learn high-skill magic, Hanging out with friends, causing mischief

Likes: Adventure Stories, Treasures, Strong drink called ‘Golden Elerin Brew’

Dislikes: Busy work, Foreigners, Fire, Hypocrites, Being broke, Medicine

Personality and Character:

As a young and energetic Pokémon and apprentice of an adventure guild, Lito values loyalty, honour and the desire to help those in need. He deeply admires the ideals and traditions of the guilds, but more in spirit than in letter. He presents himself as a carefree and laid-back individual, but he feels like he is constantly living in the shadow of the legacy of his older brother, who was an admired and almost legendary adventurer in the land and a reminder of Lito's weaknesses.

         Being very ambitious but impatient, he often loses sight of the small but important things. He often falls behind in combat training and class, which he believes are boring. He tries to hide his shortcomings under a mask of brashness and overconfidence and often boasts to his friends. In many situations, Lito wants to take the initiative, even if it jeopardises his personal goals or even a mission, causing him to be seen as an annoyance and a liability by others. As a result, he often gets relegated to busy work. Lito does not like to ask others for help and reacts antagonistically to those who offer it to him, preferring to solve his problems on his own. 

         Unusual for a fire Pokémon, he has a deep fear of flames, which causes him to be greatly insecure about himself. It greatly stifled his potential as an adventurer and earned him the nickname ‘Flame Choker’ from his rivals, which he strongly dislikes. Because his abilities are either useless or weak, he relies on magical items during combat. He is knowledgeable and skilled in their usage, but they are expensive merchandise, resulting in constant money problems for Lito. Thus he often finds himself forced to choose between money and guild ideals. He always wears a golden bracer and talisman, but would never sell them for anything in the world because they are invaluable heirlooms to him.

Backstory: 

Lito was born into the small Ayrura clan which ruled an unimportant island in the eastern Azure Sea near the Land of Winds. At a young age, his home town was ravaged and scorched to cinders by an enraged Groudon earth god which was set loose by an unknown foreign power. Lito lost most of his family and friends to the fires. Only a few Pokémon escaped this carnage, two of them being Lito and his older brother Lian. Only the bracer and talisman were left to them as proof of their lineage, and they became valuable artefacts to them. The brutal attack on his home and his utter inability to save his loved ones planted a deep fear of fire in his psyche.

After their escape, they began a long journey westward, on which they had to avoid pursuing bandits, bounty hunters and mysterious agents hellbent on capturing the remains of the Ayrura clan. It is only thanks to his brother that Lito survived this trip, even if barely. They ended up in the peaceful land named ‘The Golden Leaf’ where the two orphans were found and taken care of by a local adventurers guild. They adapted quickly to life in this new home. The guild master, who has had dealings with the Ayruras before, took them in as novices. Lian quickly climbed the guild ranks and became Lito's close mentor and somewhat of a second father figure. It became Lito's dream to get strong so he and his brother could go on great adventures together and save Pokémon who could not help themselves, something Lian promised him, despite Lito's struggle to learn fire abilities and techniques.

Powers and Abilities:

As a Pokémon of the Fire Nature, he has the same resistances and weaknesses against other magic forms as any other fire Pokémon. For instance, he is resistant to Grass techniques, but he is weak against techniques of Ground, Rock and Water.

Naturally, he can use four combat abilities consistently. His specific skill set consists of the techniques commonly known as ‘Quick Attack’, a quick physical strike, ‘Smoke Screen’, a cloud of thick smoke that blinds enemies, and his strongest moves, Fire Wheel and Swift, two powerful attacks which cause large amounts of damage. His fear of fire prevents Lito from using ‘Fire Wheel’ unless he is under dire stress. If he uses it, he passes out from mental overload, leaving him vulnerable for some time. ‘Swift’ is a high-level ability and thus often fails, resulting in an explosion which can cause Lito to take heavy damage.

To compensate for his flaws, Lito mainly fights using his good knowledge of magical combat items, which he carries around in his bag or a bundle on his back. Combined with his ‘Smoke Screen’ ability, he uses those items mainly for crowd control. Thus he can quickly either stun, slow, confuse, or make his targets fall asleep. But for the really strong foes, these effects might only last a short amount of time, so Lito often relies on the assistance of others. These items can also only be used a couple of times before they lose their power, so Lito has to use them sparingly.

[fiorilavellan]

@fadewalking

Fiori was a scholar. She had spent her life chasing the threads of old magic, spells woven so deeply they still left echoes in the world long after their empire had fallen. Once they were poets, warriors and kings. Even reduced, they had history and culture to be proud of. What they had kept may only have been a fragment of a splinter of what was, but even those splinters shone so brightly it was hard not to dream of what the whole might have been.

The Inquisition had given her resources she had never imagined. Old texts, stories and songs from around the continent in so many languages it made her head spin. Old spells, magical constructs, ruins so old it was a wonder they didn’t crumble at the touch. Places where their people had once walked, protected for once, for careful study. Artefacts left in place rather than plundered, so they could be understood. She had learned a lot during those years, and even if she had rarely contributed anything of value, the Inquisitor had barely noticed such a tiny drain on their resources. 

That had ended when the Dread Wolf had revealed himself. Suddenly she was noticed, as an elf who specialised in old stories and songs, how they connected to history. She had been made to explain, over and over, the significance of the tales, why Fen’harel was feared, why the Dalish spent their lives guarding against his influences. And then she was sent to spy on him. It was ridiculous. A waste of resources and time. She knew how to play the Game as well as any other elf in even the smallest position of power, had played it well during her time in the Inquisition in order to secure resources for her clan and passage for her people. But she wasn’t any good at hiding who she was, or sneaking around, or sending secret messages. It was absolutely no surprise at all that she had been caught.

Fiori remembered very little about the reclusive scholar of the Inquisition, might have heard his voice in the distance, or perhaps replied to a note. In fact she was sure, now, that he had once asked her for a particular volume on star charts, written by sailors from Tevinter. 

She couldn’t remember anything he had written or what she had said in reply, but in retrospect it chilled her, to know she had been that close. The Inquisition had told her what they knew about him, but there wasn’t much to go on. A long-ruined home, something of a sweet tooth but a distaste for tea, esoteric knowledge of the Fade and spirits. How had they missed such obvious holes?

Leliana had worked carefully to insert her into Solas’ rebel army. They both knew she would likely fail, the Nightingale had pleaded her case to the Inquisitor, to no avail. She was unknown to Solas, despite crossovers in their field of work. She was an elf with strong ties to her culture, and she was something of a rebel herself, so they should have a lot in common. She was beginning to regret lying about the hair thing. Clan Lavellan was known for dyes and weaving, and blue was a common choice for hair in her family. But humans always liked a rebel rather than an elf too devoted to their culture, and it had smoothed the way to say she was on bad terms with her Keeper. The Keeper who had taught her the spell for colouring her hair in the first place. That spell was the only one on her when they put the shackles around her wrists. It kept crackling and fading, so that she looked like she had fallen into the dye vat for the first few hours until the shackles finally cut off her magic entirely. Clever really, to have a visual indication of a prisoner’s mana reserves. Now her hair was its natural wheat blonde, in long waves down her back where it had broken free of its braid. The shackles were lighter than those the Chantry used; more like glowing bracelets. They left her hands free in the hours she was left alone in her cell. There was a window high up on the wall, and she had latched her fingers onto the sill and hauled herself up for a look only to discover it was magic. There was a view, but it changed hour by hour. It was a pity she had nothing to stand on to watch it go by. She was expecting execution. She had already confessed exactly who she was. Fiori couldn’t stand pain, and owed the Inquisition nothing for putting her here. It was only a shame their only spy was so damned inept, it really didn’t bode well for the world. 

[paragonrising]

@normaltothemax liked this for a starter. ( for all the moon goons )

It’d been an odd text to receive from Jake. Something about a relic that he’d found when taking out some cultists, and that he needed her help with it. Honestly, she didn’t know how much help she would be. Ancient artefacts, magic, curses, and the like… she didn’t have the patience for them. Magic worked when it wanted to, not when it was convenient, and most times it did work, it was inconvenient. But he’d asked, and trumping any reason she had to suggest asking the Avengers, was her desire to see him.

She missed him. Texting was fun, and asking if he’d try some alien cuisine if she brought it back to Earth was hilarious – but actually being around Jake was what she wanted.

Carol knocked on the apartment door, and entered a second later.

“Jake?” She called. So far everything looked normal. Hands in her jacket pockets, she walked into the kitchen. “You realise I don’t know much about magic objects, last time I helped Strange, I sort of… blew up the relic.”

Speaking of which, there it was, sitting on a table. Pyramid-shaped, it was decorated with all sorts of glyphs and markings she didn’t recognise. She didn’t believe it was Egyptian though. Curiously, she reached out and touched the oddity, finger gliding down one side. Despite the obvious engravings, the surface was smooth. In fact, it felt as if she were running her fingertip over water.

Weird.

“Cool paperweight,” she commented, looking up when she saw the bedroom door open. “But why—”

She stopped mid-sentence, lips parted slightly as she forgot what she was going to say.

There wasn’t one Jake in front of her, there were three. Three of him had just stepped out into the main area. 

“Uh,” she managed, “why are there three of you?”

[battle-scvrs]

“It’s not easy making a name for yourself, where do I draw the line? I never thought I'd be in this far.”

𝖇 𝖆 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈

NAME: Cassandra Joanne Borgin NICKNAMES: Cass, Cassie. AGE: 29 GENDER: Cis Female PRONOUNS: She/Her

𝖋 𝖆 𝖒 𝖎 𝖑 𝖞

MOTHER: Joanne Borgin FATHER: Henry Borgin SIBLINGS: Abigail Borgin, Nicholas Borgin (Death Eater).

𝖕 𝖍 𝖞 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈 𝖆 𝖑 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖊𝖘

FACE CLAIM: Jodie Comer BUILD: Slim, but muscled. HAIR COLOR: Dirty blonde. EYE COLOR: Hazel. SKIN COLOR: Pale. DOMINANT HAND: Right. ANOMALIES: Freckles on her cheeks, calluses on her fingers and some faded scarring on her wrists from potions accidents. SCENT: Usually sterile whilst working due to cleansing charms, otherwise Cassandra usually smells faintly floral. ACCENT: Strong yorkshire accent ALLERGIES: N/a DISORDERS: N/a FASHION: Cassandra is often found in healers robes, but otherwise wears a mix of casual dresses or shirts and trousers. Occasionally she will dress up formally. NERVOUS TICS: Biting down on her lower lip

𝖑 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 𝖘 𝖙 𝖞 𝖑 𝖊

RESIDES: Semi-detached house in Godric's Hollow. BORN:  Outskirts of Leeds, Yorkshire. RAISED:  Outskirts of Leeds, Yorkshire. PETS: A small black cat called Jinx.

CAREER: Healer EMPLOYER: Private healer, with some occasional on call shifts at St Mungos where the healers become overwhelmed after battles. POLITICAL AFFILIATION: Neutral.

DRUGS: Occasionally to wind down after a long shift. SMOKES: Only when drunk. ALCOHOL: Cassandra is very fond of a glass of wine, but she is also known to wash away a long and difficult day with a glass of vodka tonic. DIET: Vegetarian.

LANGUAGES: English, French, Spanish, Gobbledegook, Runic Magic.

𝖋 𝖆 𝖛 𝖔 𝖗 𝖎 𝖙 𝖊 𝖘

LOCATION: The Yorkshire dales. SPORTS TEAM: Appleby Arrows GAME: Exploding Snap FOOD: A hearty vegetable dhal with rice and naan. BEVERAGE: Strong Italian coffee, or a glass of red wine. COLOR: Purple.

𝖒 𝖆 𝖌 𝖎 𝖈

ALUMNI HOUSE: Ravenclaw. BLOOD PURITY: Pure-blooded WAND (length, flexibility, wood, & core): 10 and a quarter inches, Willow wood, Dragon Heartstring core, springy. AMORTENTIA: Bakewell tart, dusty shelves, dragonhide gloves, morning dew. PATRONUS: Cassandra is unable to produce a patronus. BOGGART: (to be decided)

Bio:

Cassandra Borgin was born as the second child to Joanne and Henry Borgin. Henry is the co-owner of a magical antiques and artefacts shop located on Knockturn Alley, and has carefully maintained an air of neutrality his whole life despite his career as a dealer of dark artefacts. As a child Cassandra remembers her father putting protective spells over her hands so that she could spend her days in the store with him and not risk accidentally touching, though she was usually hidden at the back of the store with her nose in a book. Cassandra's older brother Nicholas was fiercely protective of his sister, and that protectiveness only grew as their youngest sibling arrived when Cassandra was six.

As she spent much of her time surrounded by dark artefacts, Cassandra found herself wanting to curiously take them apart and figure out how things worked. Her father caught her on more than one occasion pulling apart a dangerous artefact with her hands, and no amount of warning against it would quell Cassandra's curious mind. Eventually, Joanne put her foot down and said that Cassie wouldn't be allowed to go to the store any more otherwise she was at risk of killing herself and anyone else in the store at the time. Little Cassie didn't understand why she was being punished for her curiosity - she just wanted to understand how the world worked, and what her papa's work involved.

Seeing that her daughter had an inquisitive mind, Joanne spent a lot of time taking Cassandra to the magical libraries. She quickly moved on from childish books like Babbity Rabbity to Hogwarts textbooks, and by the time Cassandra came of age to attend Hogwarts she had already read all of both first and second years text books, along with additional material. Her interest in taking things apart and understanding how they worked had led to Cassie spending time with her mother brewing potions, and practicing wand motions long before she had her own.

Her older brother had been at Hogwarts before herself and had been sorted into Slytherin, and the family expectation was that Cassandra would continue the tradition. She'd barely had a moment to think when the sorting hat touched her head as it shouted 'Ravenclaw' loudly, and she stumbled in surprise towards the Ravenclaw table. Within Ravenclaw house, she found kinship. As much as her mother wanted to foster her education, they couldn't hold conversations the way that other Ravenclaws did in the common room. While she had been apprehensive initially, Cassandra quickly came to love her house. School itself was a breeze, with Cassie regularly coming top in her classes.

When it came time to pick her OWLs and then her NEWTS, Cassie's original interest in taking things apart and putting them back together seemed to win out as she was drawn towards a healing path. Whilst taking apart dark artefacts was interesting, Cassie was fascinated by the way the human body worked and how different spells and curses could affect the inner workings of the body. She wanted to be different than the rest of her family who seemed content to continue the family legacy of artefact dealing, she wanted to carve her own place in the world and make her own legacy.

Her high grades were more than enough to get onto the St Mungos training course, but Henry and Joanne deemed the St Mungos course too poor for their daughter. Henry had built up a small fortune over the years via the antiques shop, never mind his illicit dealings of forbidden creatures and potions ingredients, and they used some of that money to send Cassie abroad to learn - firstly to France, then for further study in Spain. Whilst studying, there was a heavy focus on the healing qualities of potions and Cassie is now fully adept at creating a variety of healing potions which she keeps a heavy stock of. She has carved a basement out of her home in Godric's Hollow and uses that as a potions lab.

Cassie spent four years abroad and came back with all the relevant qualifications for healing. In her absence, the Dark Lord had been gathering power and many of the other pure-bloods she knew had pledged themselves to his service, including her older brother. Her father remained neutral, but it was widely accepted that he aligned to the dark arts. When she returned to England, Cassie felt some pressure to join the Death Eaters but she resisted - her focus was on healing, regardless of what side they were on. Cassandra does broadly agree with some of the Dark Lord's ideologies, but she cannot support it fully when her focus is the damage caused by the Death Eaters that he lets run riot. Like her father, Cassandra maintains quiet neutrality which allows her to heal those on both sides of the war.

Cassandra now works predominantly as a private healer for pure-blooded families who want a discreet service at home, rather than attending St Mungos. She is on retainer at St Mungos if they were ever entirely overwhelmed, and has been called in once or twice, but Cassie prefers the more personal method of private healing. She has made her position known that if a Death Eater were to come to her with injuries that they could not attend St Mungos with, those injuries and the circumstances with which they were gained would remain entirely confidential. She's still curious about the way the world works, and on occasions where she has healed wounds from particularly dark magic, Cassie has taken a copy of the magical signature and studies them at home to see if she can figure out a way to counter it.

[glauconaryue]

I have been on this hellsite for years and only now do I learn that writeblr introductions are, apparently, a thing. So here goes my

Writeblr Introduction

Glauconar Yue (they/them, xe/xir)

Nonbinary trans femme lesbian

I write horror, weird fantasy and poetry.

I also do drag and theatre sometimes.

I grew up with Spanish and German, I write in both and also in English or mixing it all up.

I love to meet people on tumblr dot com so please send asks and dms if you see common interests.

My novels

El Empalador (Spanish)

Gothic horror, historical fantasy

A retelling of the life of Vlad Tepes Dracula, blending myth and history through the paranoia of a doomed antihero.

Las crónicas del templo negro (Spanish)

High fantasy, metafiction

Immortals form a community to share their knowledge, but their individual personalities and strange abilities make coexistence no easy task. The book includes many notes on alternative translations of the cryptic source texts.

Das Herz des Zahnradmädchens (German)

Steampunk, romance

An inventor finds a mysterious female automaton whose body contains mechanical and magical secrets. To confront industrial and supernatural threats, they must first figure out their own feelings.

Many shorter texts have been published in magazines and collections, see a longer list here.

My WIPs

Graustadt: Kopfgeldjäger und Mythen

Urban fantasy, crime thriller

A couple of bounty hunters trying to make a living in a run down city. They hunt for magical artefacts and literally for the heads of luckless outlaws, while trying to not get caught up in the rising gang wars.

Status: Volume 1/3 completed, figuring out how to best publish it.

Princess on the Run

Quest fantasy, queer fairy tale, road story

After her castle is burned down, a princess roams across the land, stealing cars, fighting ghosts and con-men, questioning both her gender and nobility.

Status: Scattered fragments in various languages.

Discurso de Transmutación Alquímica

Queer poetry, witchcraft

A queer reading of alchemical mysticism, celebrating gender transition as a spiritual process. The poetical essay with embedded sonnets mixes Spanish and English, historical language and neopronouns.

Status: Finished, might add to the appendix, negotiating with editors.

These are the book-sized ones, many small texts are constantly in the works or just happening.

Thanks for reading, I'd be happy to hear from you!

[teine-mallaichte]

Lorevember Masterlist

Snippets and other pieces for @lorevember

These will all be set in my Echoes of the forgotten war universe and be mainly following Caelan.

Day 1 : Once upon a time

Day 2: In the beginning there way/lost in translation/language

Day 3: Cursed/what they don’t know wont hurt them/past lives

Day 4: Relics of power/the voices of the ancestors/sacred texts

Day 5: Artefacts/bloodlines and lineage/the blood remembers

Day6 : The secret/what lies beneath/past lives, new faces

Day 7: Ruins

Day 8: A pact as old as time/echoes of the fallen/binding oaths

Day 9: The great betrayal/friend or foe/the rise and fall

Day 10: First blood/the eternal war/ancient weapons

Day 11: legends say…/the truth behind the tale/criptids

Day 12: Creation and destruction/lost arts/all things must end

Day 13: Myths and monsters/Old gods/beasts of legend

Day 14: Magics origins/ancient runes/the end of an era

Day 15: Prophets and sagas/the forbidden word/omens and signs

Day 16: The great migration/ancient maps/borders of old

Day 17: There was a time before/unseen forces/forgotten realms

Day 18: The past/eternal sleep/the forgotten ones

Day 19: We’re not alone/stories carved in stone/hidden secrets

Day 20: There were here first/the elders/old magic

Day 21: Legends of the lost/forgotten heroes/unknown lands

Day 22: The first sacrifice/the lost artefacts/blood pacts

Day 23: Spirits of the past/they still linger/whispers in the dark

Day 24: Finding memories/forgotten songs/a legacy lost

Day 25: Buried empires/the fall of the last king/ancient clans

Day 26: Hidden powers/beneath the surface/true names

Day 27: Guardians of the past/celestial beings/Divine messengers

Day 28: Do you remember?/memory of the land/sacred rituals

Day 29: The elder tree/guardians of old/time travelers

Day 30: Thins is how it ends/last words/final wishes

Alt prompts:

Alt 1: They came from the stars

Alt 2: The outsiders

Alt 3: lost civilisation

Alt 4: The final oracle

[dishonestlies-if]

The Archivists

Also known as Secretkeepers, Archivists are the servants of Thescamor who serve in the Court. There are at most only two Archivists at any given period of time. They are chosen from the best and brightest the Temple of Thescamor has to offer; as such, they are well-versed in the arcane, and are often among the Blessed.

The main duty of the Archivists is as caretakers of The Garden. The most restricted section of the Royal Archives, The Garden contains texts from ancient authors, religious scripts, magical artefacts left behind by Thescamor, and the like. Not even the monarch has complete access, for some items can only be handled by those who have devoted their lives to the Divine.

The Archivists also have many secondary duties; for example, they oversee all religious functions within the palace, with the exception of the monarch's coronation, which is directed by the High Priest(ess). They also function as intermediaries between the palace and the Temple.

When a prospective trainee takes up the mantle of trainee Archivist, they swear a vow of silence - a binding spell is cast on their tongue by a holy instrument from the Temple, imbued with the power of Thescamor. This vow can be broken once and only once, for the consequence of doing so is the severing of the tongue, thus ensuring the Archivist's silence forevermore.

The current Archivist is Dolion; his successor is Fialova Solanaceae, only recently chosen to train beneath him. Mysterious figures they are for their self-imposed silence and secrecy. What truths of the world have they learned from their time in The Garden?