#and it had a miner engraved on the side of it

[crazysodomite]

it is so fucking embarassing when crypto traders portray themselves as 'miners'. like as miners in the mines with pickaxes. like as actual workers. are you fucking stupid?

[simpingforbots]

Hi I really love your writing of transformers one and I was wondering if you could make a d-16 and female s /o riding a crowded train with the other miners and d-16 had to lean against her ( but not to close) so that she won't get squish and she gets really flustered afterwards.

D-16 x Fembot Miner.

Peaceful Ride to another shift.

Another day another shift at mines. Young fembot woke up from her charge, seeing other bots and fembots waking up as well, or walking around to receive their daily energon portion for the day. She could hear Orion Pax and D-16 talking loudly about something, probably some kind of antics that Orion was planning. she sighed and get of her charging port and headed towards the energon hand out, taking in two and keeping other three on her arm for later times, knowing well she won't get a break at all and it will help her to not collapse from exhaustion. The reason she was looking for D-16 is because she really liked him. Out of all the miners he was one of the best, the one with Elita’s group, who was a good leader. It did made Y/N a bit jealous, worried that maybe D-16 had a small crush on leader, but he had to constantly reassure her he did not. They were just co-worker. Sighing heavily as she got her equipment, fembot scanned the area, hoping to spot D-16 in ray of helm, but no luck. Not wanting to get on Darkwing's bad side today, or Elita's, she followed the flow to the train, hopping inside and finding some spot by the windows and getting shoved by other bots and fems as they pulled in. She could not handle the flow and tripped a bit, bumping in to someone.

Sorry – She mattered out quietly and moved a bit to give the bot she bumped in to some more space, well as much as she could in this overcrowded train, only to bump in to them again as the train started moving again – Sorry.

You good, Y/N.

Fembot quickly looked up, smiling a bit as D-16 flashed his soft smile at them. Another bot bumped in to Y/N making her stumble in to D-16 chest, pleasing her hands on his chest to cushion her self from suden fall. Such suden action made her feel hot in face and quickly pulled back, trying to regain what little pride she had. Being cogless miner was basically the lowest part of society and it was already hard to get even a little bit of respect. The train moved on swiftly though Iacon, diving under and she was shoved in to D-16 again, earning a chuckle from him.

Really handsy today huh? – Y/N looked away, blushing quite a lot, even if they were dating. - Hold on a second - , wrapping his servo around the small torso and pulled Y/n closer, lenaing in to her – better?

Y/N felt flustered even more, but at the same time felt safe as she was now safe from constantly bumping in to other bots. It was really nice motion from D-16, leaning back in to touch as the train continued it’s path in to the deeper mines, silently enjoying the ride in safe hands of fellow miner, who she was totally NOT crushing on right now. And totally did not enjoyed the hand on her hip and safety D-16 provided. It was a shirt moment of piece in this hard life and sadly good times don’t last fore ever. As soon as train stopped, you had to get of and go with another group to mine energon.

Try not to get in trouble today, D – She smiled, piking up a drill as they walked out, flashing a soft smile towards the bot she cared about.

You too. Be carful out there – D-16 nodded and had to leave, waiving his hand and started his jat-pack, flying away.

Y/N only sighed dreamily, knowing well that this short moment of peace will be forever engraved in to her memory. Until something clicked for her. His hand was on her hips. Her hips. She could only let out a muffled squawk as she hid her face in drill and hurried to follow her group.

thank you so much for requesting this. sorry if it is small, but i do hope you enjoy it. hope you have a wonderful day/evening where ever you are. :-)

[lovinglonerhybrid]

So I’m in a bit of a mood for sadness.

Impactor and megatron ended up having a sparkling in the mines. She was a femme and impactor took the most responsibility over her. Unfortunately during a riot in the mines the young spark was crushed by some unruly miners. Megatron Al way blamed himself for riling up the miners with his words of freedom. Ratchet was put in charge of a young medic not to much older then a sparkling and unusually short for his frame type but he worked hard and was always willing to help in ratchets free clinic after hours. Rachet was called away to the senate leaving his young apprentice to close the clinic for the night. Unfortunately that night some thugs broke in looking for some kind of drugs rachet never really found out what ones when he returned to the clinic the next day his apprentice was dead on the floor his injuries partially repaired. From that day on ratchet pushed his friends away to scared that primus would rip them away with no warning. Hot rod was friends with a lot of people in nyon bot his best friend was another racer. His friend was really good at getting out of trouble and had a love for exploring the underside of cybertron. Hit rod went to find his friend one day and found him at the beginning of a tunnel collapsed and barely online. At the medical clinic hot rod was informed that his friends spark was not big enough for his frame and he would continue to deteriorate. When sentinel came to nyon hot rods friend was unable to leave his apartment hot rod got one last word from his friend as he set of the charges ‘you’ve freed us all’. Rodimus keeps this words engraved on the back of his chest plating beer his spark as a reminder that his people never hated him for setting them free.

In another universe there a boy who is friends with a prime he loves going fast and is the only human to explore the underside of cybertron. But there’s always something he feels is wrong when he looks at the prime he feels there should be once instead of blue a smiling face instead of a face stressed by the war. There is a boy who is unusually short for his age who follows a medic around learning all he knows he makes friends with those less fortunate and always has a helping had ready. He doesn’t like to be Akon and is always warry around bots who are overcharged. There is a girl who I sent afraid of anything and wants nothing more then to be strong and to protect those she loves. She listens to all the story’s she’s told but loves the ones about a miner who joined the opposite side of all those he knew to become the leader of the best squad in there vast army. These kids who the autobots think where brought into there live unexpectedly feel more at home with cybertronins and they may never know why.

[sqarletsworldlesswandering]

Expand on that one idea that summums lair is just a giant green pyramid

'Aight I had go remind myself what that idea was, so here's the original (slightly rephrased) context:

Imagine a Mayan-type pyramid that's rife with soft, springy moss, Spanish moss, and flora covering each terrace and climbing each level, like some sort of tropical paradise. When you go inside there's vines hanging from the ceiling and flooding in from the sky light, and a pool (side note, this is called an impluvium in Roman structures!) in the middle to collect water from the opening. There's glowing flowers that smell earthy and sweet and refreshing hanging from the vines too. When the green light of the Requiem hits the pyramid at the right angle, it glitters with dew.

I have been reading House of Fame, so I'm going to blatantly mimic Chaucer a little here.

The pyramid itself is built with a mix of white, marble-like stones that shimmer with mineral inclusions and shine with jade marbling. There's also some marbling with a stone similar to maw sit sit, with natural fluorescence that lights up the base in softly glowing marbled filigree when it's dark. As you go farther up, there's more and more jade in the stone, and then they begin switching gradually to clearer stones, reminiscent of verdelite and tsavorite, chrome diopside, and beryl. Each switch between materials happens in geometric patterns, creating glittering designs built into the stone work.

There's ornamentation worked into the center-line bricks as well, which are raised up further - these look like chrysoprase and malachite.

When you go inside, there's hanging lights that look like carved peridot and emerald, with little shining lights from inside the stone. Floating spheres glow with engraved runes, orbiting in planet-like movements around the inside of the pyramid.

And over all of this, in the terraces outside as the pyramid climbs, grows rich flora, lush bushes and even small trees. At the top stand a few much larger trees, laden with fruit and shielding bushes just as ripe. Streams of crystal clear water trace each square outer level, and stream down in channels to circle the base of the pyramid and run out into the surrounding Requiem. There are even trees inside, much smaller though. And vines and soft hanging moss, and a little bubbling spring at the north end.

And the problem is, none of this fits with what I originally imagined for the Requiem, as much as I love it. More specifically, none of it fits with Summum. And it borders a little too close to some of Duality's worldbuilding.

Summum wouldn't think for a moment of such... such luxury. The Requiem of Eclipsed is a desolate, austere, empty place. No one would dream up such a place until New Eden, and the Requiem didn't exist before in Old Eden....

Well, actually, it didn't in my original conception. I suppose... maybe it could have? But who would have made it? Who would have built the pyramid? Not the Neutrals, that's for sure.

I want to incorporate this image, and I don't know how without rewriting stuff that I want to keep.

[flowers-the-sun-witch]

BMB day 2!

feat: @wizblr-blue-moon-ball's Lurien, and mentioning @hyper-lynx's Hemi and Liam!

The first thing Flowers realises about the ball that it was big.

Well, big might not be the right word for this situation. The main hall ahead of them sprawled out over a gigantic area, and guests who had arrived before them chat amongst themselves, glasses clinking and people laughing. A little ways away, behind a drawn-back curtain, some have taken to the dance floor, humans and elves and beastfolk and others who Flowers cannot categorise all coming together.

Above them, massive, gilded chandeliers dangle from tall ceilings held up with winding gold and silver beams, almost like a cathedral. Blue banners and sconces line the walls, also decorated with gold and other precious minerals that previously, they couldn't even imagine seeing in person. Many doors of all different sizes branch off from the atrium, although some seem to be locked off to guests and others don't even have proper doorknobs; they are instead almost plate-like discs, engravings of the moon carved into them.

Flowers feels incredibly out of place, surrounded by other attendees in outfits much more suited to an event such as this; all elegance and beauty, nothing like the simple blue dress and boots they're wearing. They slip off to the side, next to the door, and watch the guests. A clockwork construct puts a glass in their hands with surprising grace. Flowers thanks them, before moving on. A quick sip reveals it to taste of honey and something they can't place. Alcohol, probably, but that isn't it.

They glance around, trying to find someone recognisable that isn't Liam, Hemi or Lurien. Some part of them wants to talk to someone new, but they have had a surprising level of difficulty starting up a conversation with a stranger lately; it's probably nothing though. After all, out of the maybe fifty-something people in attendance, at least a couple have to somewhat know Flowers, right?

They dismiss that issue for later, taking another sip of their drink. To their side, a distinct portion of people have made their way to the snack tables. Flowers decides on a whim to go ahead and join them. After all, they'll want to try the good food before it all runs out— if it all runs out. With the size of the rest of this event, there's a good possibility that there will be leftovers by the end. Still, they do want to sneak some stuff out for later.

Shaking off these thoughts, Flowers makes their way to the snack tables. It's piled high with chocolates and puddings and other foods that they can't even name, much less know what they are. They pick up what they think is a brownie and take a bite; it almost melts in their mouth. They reach for another, but realise that they probably shouldn't take all the food for themself. They laugh quietly to themself, then make a mental note to ask for the recipe later. They might even actually learn how to cook for this, instead of just sending the instructions to their friend.

Flowers is suddenly aware of everyone moving toward the main floor, just in front of the second-storey walkway. They shove through the crowd a little, continually apologising (and ignoring the voice in their head that keeps calling them a Canadian), until they get to the bottom of the staircase. They see Hemi and Liam almost at the other side of the crowd, and almost start to move toward them, but everyone suddenly starts to quieten down and Flowers stops. They step back so they can see above the banister, on which Lurien is leaning with his glass, a warm smile across his face. He starts to speak.

"Good evening everyone! I'm honored to see so many of you in attendance. For those I haven't met in person yet, my name is Lurien. I look forward to getting to know you all tonight.

"The intent of this ball is to bring together members of our community and celebrate the arcane— so I raise a glass in toast of new friendships forged and old ones strengthened," Lurien says, raising his glass. Around Flowers, others do the same; they follow.

"To new friendships and broadening horizons, may you all enjoy the festivities tonight!"

Almost all glasses have been raised in toast, and as Flowers backs away from the crowd, the music starts. They grin, wider than usual.

This will be a fun night.

[cyten0]

Siffrin: Did you ever learn about Bonding Earrings during that entire mess?

✦ "I did! It's kinda interesting! It feels so simple..."

✦ "I don't remember what it's like back where I'm from, but a simple exchange like that feels really easy. I'm sure there's all kinds of subtleties, but the process itself feels. Simple?"

◆ "Hm. I'll admit, that does make me somewhat curious about your version."

▲✸ "Allow me to answer that! We call it marriage, but really that's the LAST step of a relationship. It goes through a few stages!"

▲✸ "First, if you are looking for a relationship, you wear a ring of Iron. Showing you are willing to accept the dangers of opening your heart to others. Risky thing, trying to love!"

▲✸ "Then, when you find someone you like, you both wear rings of Silver, to show you are trying out a relationship with someone. Not necessarily bonded, but trying to live as if you were, to see if it will work out. Testing the waters, as it were~"

▲✸ "And then lastly, if you are sure you want to live with them, you take each others rings, and use them as material for a third ring, engraved with a single ruby. Then, on the day you choose to marry, you both give each other back the reforged rings."

◉ "That... sounds expensive"

▲✸ "It might have been elsewhere, but rare minerals, ESPECIALLY ruby, was frankly quite prevalent at home! Not to mention that, on your deathbed, your children would get to have the ring you kept, and use it to make their own rings.

▲✸ "At that point, it will have fulfilled it's purpose. The stars already know to keep your souls together~"

▲ "That. Crab, that's actually kinda touching."

✦ "... Maybe... I could make a silver Earring?"

▲ "!!!"

◆ "...Gems, that is QUITE an expression Isabeau!"

▲ "Icanbenormalaboutthis!!!"

▲✸ "Don't kill the poor man, Stardust! Think that's skipping a FEW steps on the Vaugardian side~"

✦ "O-Oh! Right! Then. Silver ring. That we then make INTO an earring!"

✿ "Blegh. You both are being really crabbing mushy and gross about it."

◉ "Wait... OH CHANGE!!! That scene in issue 62 was a PROPOSAL?! I had NO IDEA Pierre felt that way!!"

◆ "Pardon?"

◉ "S-Sorry. I. MIGHT have to re-read a bunch of Cursing of Chateau Castle."

[kaitlin-murphy]

"After John James Audubon (American Woodsman)" 2021.

Vintage posters, Franklinia alatamaha seeds, cotton, antique frame, plywood, plexi, glue, hardware, vintage lumber, iron oxide stain, light-reactive sound device, 1950s sound recordings of Vermivora bachmanii, vintage darning egg, vintage needle and spools, Sturnus vulgaris skull, wool socks knitted by Bobby Wilcox, original wallpaper digitally designed using copyright free historic images, printed by SpoonFlower Inc, self-published zine.

I was invited by Goucher College Curator and Director of Exhibitions Alex Ebstein to create this installation for the "Rediscovering Goucher's Lost Museum" exhibition in fall 2021. Documentation photos generously made by Vivian Marie Doering @vivianmariephoto on Instagram.

Artist Statement:

“On the whole, the task of turning Audubon’s original images into marketable engravings proved to be an extremely labor-intensive process that relied, almost immediately, on the work of dozens of artisans, often working directly under Audubon’s ever-critical eye. But the work process went well beyond the engraver’s shop. Unseen and unheralded others likewise made a critical contribution to the project: the papermakers who produced the huge, high-quality sheets Audubon required; the copper smelters who turned raw ore into clean ingots; the miners who extracted the ore from the earth in the first place; and so forth, back through all the prior steps of production. In that sense, The Birds of America was not just an extensive work of art, not just an example of the sole genius of the lone, struggling artist. It was, rather, an ambitious business venture that relied on a complex labor process and an extensive supply chain, an enterprise in which the artist became not just the designer of the work, but the administrative manager of dozens of people, many of whom could be called artists in their own right, and a marketer to prospective customers, many of whom he had to track down wherever he could find them, on both sides of a very wide ocean.”

--Gregory Nobles, John James Audubon: The Nature of the American Woodsman, 2017. p103

Beyond the ‘supply chain’ of compensated workers existed a backdrop of the truly Unseen and Unheralded – the enslaved Black people whose supportive labor was violently coerced; and the work of Maria Martin, an ‘artist in [her] own right’ whose labor was given, and taken, freely due to her faith and her standing as an unmarried, white woman in the Antebellum South. Utilizing the exquisite Martin-Audubon collaborative painting, "Bachman's Warbler", as a jumping-off point, this installation is a visual exploration of the cultural and structural scaffolding that made such erasure possible during that era, as well as two examples of natural history showcased by the painting that have been lost and found - the now extinct Bachman's Warbler (Vermivora bachmanii) for which this painting and a few short sound recordings are our best documentation of the species' existence, and Franklin Tree (Franklinia alatamaha) a species native to the southeastern US that narrowly avoided utter extinction thanks to the collectors John and William Bartram, and that now exists in scattered cultivation across the country.

This project is not meant as a wholesale ‘cancel’ of John James Audubon or early American naturalists – whose work, at times disturbingly tainted by prevailing beliefs and customs, nevertheless paved the way for the scientific fields of biology and ecology today. This installation is, rather, an acknowledgment of the conflicted entanglements between history, nature, people, race, gender, ideology, belief, imagery, and power.

Collections are essentially a grandiose form of appropriation, recontextualizing objects for myriad purposes. This installation plays with two traditions: collections and appropriation, by appropriating and recontextualizing Audubon’s work, as well as other historical illustrations from various collections, and using metaphor and allegory as tools to tell the story. It would not have been made possible without the help, labor, and/or support of many unseen and unheralded, including the anonymous archivists at the Internet Archive, New York Public Library Digital Collections, and Cornell’s Macaulay Library, collectors on Ebay, Etsy, Facebook Marketplace, and Bazaar in Hamden, the production team at Spoonflower, and most especially Alex Ebstein, Bobby Wilcox, Seth Adelsberger, Denise Wilcox, Patti Murphy, Wyatt Hersey, Jenny Rieke and Oona McKay.

[dreamer213]

Broken Machines: Between The Shadows

Chapter 15: Comfort and Conflict

Penny didn’t sleep much that night, guilt keeping her awake until the early hours of the morning. Her sleep is blank of scenarios but she accepts the darkness and the fear it induces in her. Honestly, she felt like she deserved it, to be lost to the void to reflect on her deception, cowardice, and selfishness. But even that was a selfish act, letting herself slip away into darkness to avoid the anguish that waited for her in the waking world.

In the morning she’s greeted by two notifications on her scroll, a text message and an incoming call. The talk was all but brief, they said their good mornings, and Penny inquired on the status of Whitley’s wounds and overall condition. Surprisingly or unsurprisingly considering the circumstances Whitley had cleaned himself up rather well, applied topical ointment, and rewrapped his injuries on his own. He had even taken a few mild pain sedatives before calling.

It was strange, no, eerie how quickly and easily Whitley managed to tend to himself like this. Most people wouldn’t be able to withstand the pain of treating their own fresh wounds, especially in such tender areas. But Whitley, after last night’s confession seemed completely unbothered. Was he just that used to this type of treatment that he had grown a greater pain tolerance or had he simply learned to disassociate from the pain to get through it?

Penny couldn’t tell which, and she didn’t want to know. All she wanted was to be with him and hold him tight, to give him some peace of mind in a way only she could. But she had to be patient, this was his pain, not hers and she had already withheld too much from him to be demanding anything right now. So she listens intently, only asking questions about his injuries and pain levels until finally, they get to the topic of her coming up.

Whitley: Remember how you asked me how I got back in the manor the other night?

Penny: Yes?

Whitley: Take a look at the picture I sent you and I’ll show you.

Penny nods and pulls up the texted image. When the file loads it reveals what looks like blueprints. But on closer inspection, it's a map! A map of hidden tunnels, passageways, and exits in the Schnee Manor. It was like something out of a mystery novel or period drama, there were even hidden rooms and a secret treasury!

Penny: …Wow.

Whitley: I know. Presenting the Schnee Manor’s best-kept secret, the tunnels. As an ex-miner and experienced hunter, my grandfather was a little paranoid when it came to home safety. He knew the importance of always having a way out of trouble and a place to hide in case of an emergency. After climbing to the upper class and seeing the ruthlessness of the business world first hand he kept those ideas in mind when building his dream home.

Penny: Amazing.

Whitley: Indeed, it’s been a real lifesaver. In more ways than one.

He quips, smirking at his own sly humor as always. Penny doesn’t comment but smiles, a little relieved that Whitley is doing well enough to joke with her again. Her smile perks him right up and Whitley clears his throat before diving into details.

Whitley: Now, time for a special pop-up lesson. Pay close attention because this is top-secret information for your ears only.

He states playfully, Penny sits up straight and takes on a more studious posture as Whitley begins his lecture. He teaches the ends and out of the tunnel system, where the hidden doors are, how the locks work, and so on.

Whitley: On either side of the main house there are several false statues and wall engravings, if you look close enough you’ll notice that certain parts are actually buttons and switches. When pushed in the correct order they unlock a secret door into the tunnels.

He explains, describing the different etchings and sculptures and the unlocking sequences of each along the map. He also entails the blind spots in security these secret doors as the current system was cheap and without those routes in mind per Jacques’s usual ignorance. It’s a long process but Penny takes everything in without complaint or confusion, her desire to get to him slowly drowning out the static of her underlying guilt and shame. The call ends with a simple but sweet farewell.

Whitley: See you soon, I love you.

Penny: I love you too, I’ll be there soon.

She waves goodbye before hanging up, clutching her scroll to her chest for a moment after the screen goes blank. Her chest still burned but there was no time for her own discomfort, Whitley needed her help now and she was in no state to be unhelpful. Penny gets up and dressed quickly, emptying her backpack and stocking it with medical supplies from her dad’s emergency kit. Her steps are quiet and swift, not wanting to wake her dad from his sleep as she traverses the house. She hadn’t had the chance to tell him anything, nor had the mind or the heart to do it now. Not while she hadn’t seen Whitley and confirmed his safety yet. Until that task was completed, Penny could not be at ease enough to function outside of this frantic caretaker mode she found herself in. As she silently savages there are a million different worries and questions running through her mind.

Penny: Did he eat yet? Should I take him something? Would he even want that? If so what do I bring? I don’t know how to cook well and can’t make anything without waking Dad. And even if I did what would I-Ugh! I don’t have time for this!

She snaps at herself, frustrated with her own thoughts. After a quick sweep of the cabinets, Penny grabs a bag of gingersnaps, some packs of hot chocolate powder, and a handful of sweets from her dad’s bag of hard candies. Not much but nothing that would be noticed immediately and could be replaced with a fuss.

As she heads to the front door, Penny brushes past her still-dirty boots. The grimm ash clinging to them had dried into a thick coat against the metal. The layer of black was so dense she could hardly see the metal underneath.

Penny: I’ll clean them when I get back.

She thought, unbothered and unfocused as she turned her gaze back to the door. She leaves in silence, locking the door with a barely audible click. Her trek to the Schnee manor is simple, first to the train station up on the first train then to the first taxi she can hail once in the upper city for a drive just a few city blocks short of her destination. Throughout her travels, Penny is scarily quiet with no trace of her usual cheeriness. Outwardly it’s a polite silence, a simple courtesy from a considerate passenger. Inside Penny’s silence was a result of pure drive, she wasn’t thinking at all just functioning. Her mind was almost at a complete pause, stalled to keep the little mental fortitude she had left from breaking down. The most that comes out of her is a soft “thank you” to the cab driver as she gets out.

On the road alone she makes it to the manor long before the afternoon, sticking close to the sides as she was instructed. Sneaking past the front gates around the driveway to the first side building, paying close attention to the walls as she looks for the engraving that would act as her entrance. Walking further down gazing at every inch of the structure with close inspection Penny finds what she’s after. It’s just as Whitley described, a sphinx grimm standing upright on its hind legs carved into the white masonry of the foundation. It’s almost completely flat in texture and so light in color that one wouldn’t be able to see it after dark or even through a thick shadow. Still, the art itself is beautiful and well crafted, the styling segmenting the creature it portrayed into disconnected parts with thick lines that flowed into curled ends that made the fearsome creature look almost whimsical.

Pulling out her scroll, Penny texts Whitley a notice of her arrival and where to find her before making her attempt at opening the trick door. She pockets her scroll and runs her fingers over the mosaic.

Penny: Whitley said the pattern for the Grimm doors was simple, the pattern in which you’d take it apart during an attack according to his grandfather’s hunting style. For the sphinx he’d start with the paws, to break its stance and impair its mobility.

She reaches her hand up to the raised front paws of the carving and presses hard, the stone gives under the pressure of her touch and slides back. Penny breathes a sigh of relief, then glides her hand down to the grounded paws and presses them with the same force. They give way just as easily as the front, sliding back seamlessly into the wall.

Penny: Okay, next the wings to cut off its last means of escape.

She reached up and pressed down on the wings which clicked back into place just like the paws.

Penny: And lastly the killing strike at the head.

With one final long reach, Penny gets up on her tiptoes and presses down on the head of the sphinx carving, it slides back, and soon she hears mechanisms shifting and clicking behind the wall. With a puff of air, the carving pushes back into the building revealing the door shape frame it decorated. With a hesitant push, Penny opens the door back further and steps inside the space behind it. Inside was a hallway, one of many pathways through the hidden tunnels. Sliding behind the door to push it closed Penny sees parts of the pressure lock that keep the door so tightly closed and hidden, and the lever on the other side to open it from within. It was very rudimentary and frankly plain old school but effective. Covering her tracks, Penny pushes the heavy stone door closed only to hear soft footsteps and clapping slowly approaching her direction. She immediately turns towards the sound to find Whitley walking towards her, applauding her efforts and coming her way.

Whitley: Bravo, you got in on the first try without a single mistake. Well done, my brilliant stude-

Penny doesn’t let him finish his musings before rushing him, pulling Whitley into her arm in a tight embrace. She buries her face in his shoulder, taking in his scent, his warmth, and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, everything her senses can detect to confirm he was right there in front of her. Her act immediately shocks Whitley out of his attempted tease but also melts his heart, her strong affection was exactly what he needed right now. With love-filled eyes, he returns her hug with equal warmth and kisses her softly on her forehead, right on her bangs. For as much pain as he was still in, Whitley felt blissful in Penny’s arms as they reassured him that he was no longer alone in his suffering and that someone was willing to comfort him through it no matter how difficult it was to do so.

Meanwhile, Penny is stewing in a mix of guilt, relief, and sorrow. She was so happy to see Whitley in good spirits but the knot in her stomach only grew tighter at the contact. The feeling of his lips on her locks was so bittersweet, at any other time she would have blushed with glee from the act but right now it made her skin crawl with shame. How cruel of her to let him lavish her with such tenderness when she was no better than anyone else in his life. She had lied to him from the very beginning about her true nature. She’d masqueraded as human and tricked him into loving her and relying on her at his lowest. She made him believe that finally there was a person whom he could trust wholly and utterly, a crime too similar to the con his mother had fallen for. She was a betrayer to the highest degree yet she still held onto him like this, refusing to reveal the truth but unable to let him go. If she could see herself right now Penny would heave with disgust but instead, she only holds him tighter as if he’d vanish into thin air if she couldn’t feel him.

The added pressure irritates Whitley’s back wounds and his body quivers. Penny notices and jerks back, loosening her grip and looking up at him with concern.

Whitley: Ow.

He squeaks almost playfully, trying hard to make the push in his injuries sound less painful than it really was. But the already guilt-wracked Penny isn’t so easily fooled.

Penny: I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!

She exclaims, her face full of remorse and worry. Seeing her distress Whitley pats her head and pulls her back to him.

Whitley: Shh, I know, I know, you’d never do anything to hurt me. Just try to be gentle, I’m still very tender.

He cues sweetly before planting another soft kiss on her forehead. Penny swallows back the ball of shame in the back of her throat and nods along, unable to speak for fear of what would come out of her in this fragile state. Noting her confirmation Whitley relaxes his hold on her

Whitley: Good. Now come with me, I’d like to talk somewhere more comfortable.

He states, motioning further down the tunnels. Penny nods again in agreement and the two walk down the pathway hand in hand. Dim lamps on the walls light their path as Whitley leads the way to a panic room. The door to the room is just as expected for a panic room, sturdy with a keypad acting as the only means to enter from the outside. Whitley steps forward to enter the code and holds the door for Penny to walk in first. Inside is a very well-stuck setup, a bed set against one wall with bedding boxed underneath, proper plumbing, an emergency communications system, a wall full of weapons for safety against attackers, clean bottled water, and a stock of non-perishable food along with some books and board for entertainment. Honestly, it was like a luxury fallout shelter with a mini armory but for its given purpose it could be considered cozy.

Whitley: After you.

He chirps, gesturing for Penny to head inside. She does and Whitley follows, letting the door close behind with a slam that echoes through the tunnels but never breaks past their thick walls. Inside the panic room Penny peeks and pokes around the area, almost inspecting the room to double-check its accommodations.

Penny: This is…a very well-made emergency room.

Whitley: Grandfather was a thorough man when it came to his family’s safety.

Penny: Understandably, though it is kind of dusty in here.

Whitley: Product of time, this place hasn’t been touched in years. Not since the beheading incident.

Penny’s eyes widen at the word behead and she immediately inquires about the details.

Penny: Excuse me, did you just say beheading incident? When and where was there a beheading incident?!

She asks, earnestly concerned by the possibility of Whitley being privy to such a heinous crime. Understanding her worry Whitley answers frankly.

Whitley: It happened almost a decade ago when the White Fang were at their most…hostile for lack of a better term. Father had recently taken over as head of the SDC and put into place some new labor policies that did not go over well with the populous, especially with the White Fang. There were several incidents of them kidnapping board members and their families and ransoming them to get the policies that targeted faunus overturned but Father doesn’t negotiate with terrorists so their attacks kept getting bolder and bolder until they started taking things too far.

He sighed, nodding his head in disapproval as he regaled the unfortunate memory.

Whitley: The poor man was an old friend of Grandfather’s, worked in the mines with them since they were just kids, and was one of Mother’s godfathers. They waited until Father was abroad and sent a recording of them…tearing his head off his shoulders to my mother during the night.

Penny: Oh my god.

Whitley: Alongside a box containing his still bleeding head.

Penny: Oh my god!

Whitley: Yes, it was… truly terrifying. Of course, I didn't know any of this until years later but that night I was woken up by my mother pulling me out of bed, Winter standing behind her carrying a still-sleeping Weiss over her shoulders. Mother told me to be very quiet and not move, that she was taking us to a secret place but that no one could see us go there so we had to sneak away. She made it seem like it was a fun little game she’d made up, to keep me from getting scared I’m sure. It worked, I put little hands over my mouth and stayed as still as a statue while she carried me. She rushed us through one of the hidden doors and into this panic room, sat Weiss and me down on the bed, and grabbed a sword. Mother and Winter stood guard at the door until we got the all-clear in the morning. It was the first time I’d ever seen her look so serious or move so quick! It was like I was seeing a different person…the person she was before Father. Before his lies…before he ruined her.

He says wistfully, eyes clouded with nostalgia and grief at just how far everything had fallen since that terrible incident.

Whitley: Security around us increased for a long time after and the killings didn’t stop for even longer, but eventually the White Fang did give up on the SDC. Though it cost many lives in the end Father’s stubbornness prevailed!…and the pile of bodies just kept growing bigger every year.

He jokes bitterly, the curt reminder of how cruel his father could be in the fact of direct threats to his family souring his mood. But the building bile is halted by the feel of warm arms wrapping around him and pulling him into a nurturing hug. Penny pulls his head onto her shoulders, holding it with care as she fights back the urge to cry.

Penny: I’m so sorry that happened to you.

She says sympathetically, hand moving up to caress Whitley’s hair to ease a bit of tension telling that story had fostered in him. Her tender actions elicit a soft smile from the white-haired boy who in turn wraps his arms around her middle to bring her closer.

Whitley: It’s okay, despite the tragedy that night isn’t a bad memory for me. Rather it’s one of the few times I remember feeling truly safe in this house and protected by my family.

That admission only makes Penny hold on tighter. She hated how casual he was about these terrible things, that he could be so comfortable talking about such horrible events was just too much for her to bear! Worse than that was the fact he was talking like this less than a full day after being brutally beaten! It’s just too awful for her to sit by and quietly accept!

Penny: Speaking of tragedy, how are your injuries?

Whitley stiffens up at the mention of his wounds, he’d been so happy to have Penny with him and so lost in his tale that his current state had slipped his mind.

Whitley: They’re fine, wrapped, and treated just like I promised.

Penny: Let me check, I need to see it for myself.

She replies, the sternness of her voice making it clear this isn’t a question but a demand. Knowing her decree comes from a good place Whitley obeys without resistance.

Whitley: If you insist.

They clean off the bed and throw in the coverings to give themselves a clean workspace. They sit down side by side, Penny digs through her backpack for her medical supplies before ordering Whitley to strip.

Whitley: Excuse me?

Penny: I need you to take off any clothing that obstructs my access to your injuries.

Whitley: I understand your reasoning but don’t you think this is a little…inappropriate? Me being half-dressed in front of you?

He questions giving Penny pause, she thinks for a moment then puts the medical supplies and reaches for the button of her blouse.

Penny: If it’s a matter of embarrassment then I’ll remove some of my clothes too, that way we’ll be equally vulnerable.

She offers, her hands already at the ready to undo the top button. Whitley goes from pale to completely red in less than two seconds. He rushes to grab her hands, clutching them close in his so she can't easily pull them back.

Whitley: W-What in the hell are you doing?!

Penny: Unbuttoning my top?

Whitley: I can see that! Now stop!

Penny: Why? I’m just trying to make you more comfortable.

Whitley: Comfortable-

Whitley sighs and removes one of his hands from hers to clasp his almost cherry-red face.

Whitley: I don’t know if I should envy your naïveté or pity your lack of self-awareness.

He mutters, once again flustered by Penny’s earnest efforts. Still in caretaker mode, Penny doesn't fully grasp what he’s saying and cocks her head in confusion. Whitley lets out a deep sigh upon seeing that familiar look of innocent ignorance. Realizing she doesn't get it Whitley goes for the direct approach, he reaches out and starts undoing her blouse buttons himself. Leaning forward to get into her personal space, so close that she could feel his breath on her neck as Whitley hooks his pointer fingers under Penny’s blouse to keep it open while he trails down. His nimble fingers dancing across the skin of her clavicle with every motion.

Penny: W-w-what are you doing?!

Penny stammered, face bright hot red as his hands continued their machinations on her blouse.

Whitley: Well you offered to take it off for my sake so it’s only fair that I do it for you instead.

He says sweetly, flush face made mischievous with a smirk gracing his lips.

Penny: That’s not-I can do-You don’t have to-

Absolutely flabbergasted, Penny immediately grasps Whitley’s hands and pushes them away, the force of fluttered movements causing her to lose her balance. She falls back into the bed, pulling Whitley along with her by his still-clasped hands. Before either knows it he’s lying on top of her, the buttons on her blouse are fully open leaving part of her chest visible. In this moment Penny’s head is spinning, this situation was far beyond even her wildest dreams and fantasies. Her pulse is racing as she’s overwhelmed with nervousness, embarrassment, and an odd sense of excitement. Whitley however is far calmer, still smirking he leans down to get even closer. Pushing their locked hands together until it’s the only barrier keeping their bodies from touching. He looks her directly in the eye, so close their noses almost brush against each other as he speaks.

Whitley: And this is why we don’t offer things we aren’t ready to give.

He chirps, playfully chastising her naïve actions before pulling away and giving Penny a moment to collect herself.

Eventually, they do get to the task at hand. Whitley strips off his shirt to reveal a heavy amount of bandages across his torso and arms. Seeing up close Penny takes note of how thoroughly he’s wrapped his wounds. It was wrapped so thickly, most likely when the bleeding was at its heaviest, but so cleanly it’s clear this was a practiced procedure. Taking off her gloves and sanitizing her hands before removing the old wrappings, Penny can’t help but feel her hands tremble a bit as they make contact with the gauze. Starting with the biggest area, his back, Penny slowly and gently pulls off the bandages from his torso. Every layer deeper she gets the more bloody the wrapping becomes until she finally covers the skin of his back.

The pop of the deep red from healing lash marks on Whitley’s pale white was an almost ornate kind of horrifying. It was as though someone performed the art of kintsugi on shattered porcelain with blood and scar tissue instead of liquified gold. There was no denying what had happened here, the depth of lashes, the direction, and the overlap where spots were struck repetitively, it was as if the assailant was trying to draw as much blood as possible!

Penny: No, not if.

Jacques most definitely had tried to cause Whitley as much physical damage and pain as possible! And judging from the amount of wounds that appeared to be reopened from past beatings, he was well-practiced in this form of torment.

Penny can hardly breathe and for a second she just stares on in pure horror as she faces the evidence of this tragedy full on. Whitley, feeling her fixed gaze on him, tries to lighten the mood again.

Whitley: Apologies for the grotesque sight. Don’t worry, it looks worse than it feels.

He quips, chuckling at his humor as if the tapestry of damaged skin across his back was no big deal. But his laughter dies the moment Penny finds her voice again and replies with a single phrase.

Penny: I’m sorry.

She mutters, voice choked with tears and anguish as the feelings of grief and helplessness resurface.

How could she not have noticed this? How did she not see this sooner? How could she have been so close but so blind!

Whitley had been suffering so much.

If there was anyone in this kingdom who needed her it was him. And even though she was right there, even though he had trusted her, spent time with her, and had been so good to her Penny had been unable to do the only thing she was designed to do for everyone under her care.

Protect.

She’d failed him, just like everyone else in his life had failed him. And knowing that made Penny want to rip her own heart out of her chest. The pain was just too much, but giving into it now would be pointless. Whitley still needed her and she’d already been too selfish with him already, she couldn’t abandon him to spare herself from this despair.

So with a heavy heart she cleans his wounds out, doing so as gently as possible. But there’s no stopping the sting of rubbing alcohol against healing flesh. That was just how the process worked. But still, every time Whitley twitched in pain, Penny felt a piece of herself hurt for him.

Penny: Sorry.

She chirps again, repeating it every time he shows even the slightest hint of discomfort. Each time Whitley tries to soothe her worries, glancing over his shoulder to peek at her with a sympathetic gaze.

Whitley: It’s fine.

He says.

Whitley: It’s okay, that means you're doing it right.

He says.

Whitley: I’m fine, just keep going.

He meets her worry with comfort, matching her usual positivity with his own version. Once his back wounds are fully cleaned and rewrapped they move on to his forearms. By the end, all of Whitley’s wounds are clean and both teens are mentally exhausted from the experience. Penny was wracked with guilt and concern while Whitley was overcome with a strong sense of vulnerability.

It had been a long time since someone had tended to him so carefully and the first time he’d been this undressed in front of someone he viewed intimately. He hated to see her cry but couldn’t help the feeling of joy knowing she cared so much brought him.

No one else would or had fought so hard to care for him this way.

No one but Penny Polendina.

And Whitley truly adored her for it, he appreciated every second she devoted to being with him and loving him the way she did. He had almost forgotten how being loved so effortlessly and unconditionally felt so he did his best to return it with equal care.

As he’s redressing and she’s putting away her medical supplies, Whitley pauses for a moment and reaches over to wipe away Penny’s tears. He pushes away at the tear strand with his thumb while caressing her cheek. Penny continues packing the medical tools away but the second they’re all secured she turns to face him and cups his hand. She gently rubs the back of his hand with her thumb which Whitley responds to by caressing her other cheek with his free hand. He looks deep into her teary-eyes and plants a kiss in the space between them.

Whitley: Thank you, love.

He bellows.

Whitley: For everything.

He whispers, cradling her face in his hands like it’s the most precious thing in the world. And to him, she was, a being worth more than anything. The answer to countless prayers, someone who loved him wholeheartedly and unconditionally. Even the sting of his healing lash wounds couldn’t dull the peace he had with her. Penny was everything he could have asked for and more than he could ever dream of. The first true grace he’d been blessed with in so long that he’s almost surprised how he survived so long without her.

Penny can feel the love radiating from him and is so torn. She wants to embrace it, take in every word, every action, every single bit of affection Whitley had to give but the guilt makes her heart quake with the weight of her deceit.

This joy, this comfort she gave him was built on falsehoods but she couldn’t dare bring herself to take away. Not when he needed her and not when she loved him this much.

This tense but tender moment is only halted by the sound of a soft stomach grumble. The second Penny hears it she knows what’s happened. Her expression shifts from solemn to annoyance as she looks at Whitley who’s cheeks are already burning with embarrassment.

Whitley: Ex-excuse me.

He apologizes, to which Penny responds with a snappy retort.

Penny: You didn’t eat enough again, did you?

She accuses, or more proclaims as Whitley avoids eye contact after being called out on his poor self-care.

Penny: You can’t not eat when you’re actively taking pain medicine! Your body won’t absorb it correctly and you’ll be at risk of illness or even overdose!

She lectures, pouted face with puffed cheeks at Whitley’s absolute lack of self-preservation when it came to his body! Knowing he’s in for an earful Whitley decides not to fight her on this and accepts his fate.

Whitley: I know, I know, I should take better care of myself.

Penny: Yes, you should!

Whitley: But you can understand why I wasn’t feeling particularly peckish.

Penny: I-Well…

This gives Penny pause as she recalls the state Whitley was in the night before. The situation had driven her into a mad rage but it must have absolutely drained him of all energy. Food was probably the last thing on his mind during all this.

Penny: I can understand why this level of stress of this would impede your appetite.

She sighs, her mood deflating back down along with her gaze. Eyes turned to the floor Penny catches sight of her backpack and remembers what medical supplies wasn’t all she brought.

Penny: But still! You should at least have something.

She states, pulling away from Whitley and reaching back down for her bag. She retrieves the little snacks she’d brought from home.

Penny: I didn’t have the time or the forethought to go the store beforehand but I did bring these just in case!

She presents Whitley with her assortment of treats. It’s not much and seemed to be the type of treats one would find in an old person’s handbag. Still, the gesture is sweet and brings a smile to Whitley’s face. As he looks through her little haul of goodies Whitley notices the packs of hot cocoa mix and gets an idea.

He gets up from the bed and walks over to check the panic room’s provisions. The room was fit with state-of-the-art equipment and non-perishable food that could last for quite a long time, and knowing his grandfather some of these would be some old staples from his time as a miner in tundra. Like dust-powered compact cooking gear. True to Nicolas’s reliability there are several pieces of camping cooking equipment, including what Whitley was searching for, a dust-powered camping stove with a pot attachment.

Whitley pulls it out and presents the appliance to Penny. Penny jumps up and rushes over to inspect the object, it’s in great condition and ready for use at any time!

With this the two hatch a plan.

After wiping down the pot, stove, a ladle, and a couple of cups with some rubbing alcohol and water, they make a mix of water and powdered milk, then set the pot to heat. As the milk mix boils they sit and wait to add the cocoa mix. As both are very inexperienced in cooking, they watched the pot carefully, Whitley from a bit further off than Penny as he was nowhere near as comfortable with the idea of hot bubbling liquid near his body as Penny was, especially in his current condition. Penny, however, takes the task a little too seriously as her enhanced senses allow her to precisely gauge the rising temperature of the milk substitute as it approaches its boiling point. She stares intensely at the pot, waiting for just the right moment.

Penny: Wait for it….just a few more seconds.

She mumbles, watching the bubbles until the critical moment, then-

Penny: Now!

She strikes! Following instructions on the back of the pack, Penny pours in the mix and tours down the heat before grabbing the ladle to stir the drink together. Her stirring method is gentle but firm going in a counter-clockwise motion at a steady speed. It’s the way her dad tended to stir things like soup or oatmeal and though she was no cook herself Penny was adequate at learning just by watching. Whitley watches on, silently impressed by her seemingly seamless ability to adapt to almost any situation.

Whitley: Is anything she can’t do?

He muses fondly, gaze ever fixed on Penny as she turns the heat on the pot off completely then looks back at him.

Penny: It’s ready!

She cheers, breaking Whitley out of his thoughts and into action. He grabs the mugs and holds them out for Penny to pour the hot cocoa in. The young lovers sit back in the bed, mugs in hand, and a mixed bag of candies and ginger snaps between them they have a pleasant little snack time in the panic room. Penny doesn’t reach for any of the snacks until Whitley does, hoping he’ll eat more if she takes less. The first thing he grabs is a ginger snap, something he hadn’t ever had before. Sure he had plenty of ginger-flavored desserts and foods before but most only had a trace amount for taste but this confection was known to have a lot more. He takes a cautious bite into the hard cookie and the moment he starts chewing the flavor hits him. It's dry but moist after a few seconds, taste made hearty by a mix of ginger, cinnamon, and sugar. Though the first two ingredients pair well when lightened by the third, those unfamiliar with the treat can find it a tad bit-

Whitley: Spicy!

-pungent.

Trying not to seem ungrateful or uncomfortable Whitley takes sips of his cocoa to wash it down. The sweetness of the drink is slightly undercut by its water base but its warmth does wonders to calm his tense body. He sighs softly as his shoulders relax, Penny notices and smiles. She unwraps one of the hard candies and holds it up for Whitley to take. The sweetness should be enough to soothe the sting of the gingersnap spice. She holds it right above his lips and true to his usual sly attitude, Whitley eats it directly out of her hand.

When all the treats are gone and they start cleaning up Whitley can’t shake off a sudden wave of fatigue. This wasn’t too uncommon after a blowup, once things settled down he’d feel a little drowsiness as his stress levels even back out but this was more pronounced than before. Perhaps it was Penny’s presence making him feel secure or maybe last night’s venting had taken more out of him than he thought. Regardless, at this moment Whitley Schnee only wanted one thing, sleep. He lies down on the bed, curling up into a comfortable position on his side. The bed wasn’t as comfortable as his own but he’d been in worse conditions than this. Looking up, he spots Penny sitting at the edge of the bed. He reaches over and taps the base of her spine with his fingertips, grabbing her attention. She looks back at him and is greeted by the sight of him gazing back at her on his side while patting the empty space beside him.

Whitley: Come here, let’s take a nap.

He beckons.

Penny: H-here? Now?

She questions completely caught off guard, but Whitley doesn’t relent. He knows how to get to her and just can’t give up this selfish whim of his to have her close. He pouts, softening his gaze to look a bit pitiful before asking again.

Whitley: Please? I really wanna hold you.

He pleads, bottom lip quivering as he pats the open space next to him. Penny is flustered, Whitley’s affections were usually subtle but bold but this was a new level. One she didn’t deserve, not anymore with the truths she’s hidden even during this trying time.

Still, it was so tempting.

Despite her guilt and frustration with the situation, the idea of lying down and embracing him was just too alluring. She came here to comfort and protect him after failing to notice his circumstances so how could she deny him what she was already willing and want to give?

Penny’s shoes hit the floor with a thump as she slides them off and rolls onto her side, laying down directly beside Whitley.

Whitley: Hi.

He chimes, a sweet blush and a soft smile illuminating his pale face.

Penny: Hi.

She replies, cheeks just as rosy, her eyes setting their transfixed gaze on his.

Staring face to face the shared desire for a kiss was immediately palpable, gazing into each other’s eyes as they lay so close that they could breathe in each other’s breath. It was only natural such intimate closeness would make both yearn to close the gap.

But Penny couldn’t let that happen, not with the truth still resting on her tongue and a wall of omission obscuring her true self.

So when Whitley leans in Penny doesn’t pull away but redirects, kissing his cheek before his lips can reach hers. Feeling his soft skin against her lips is sweet but sobering, she may not get another chance to do this anytime soon so against her better judgment Penny takes advantage. She clasps her hands around Whitley’s face and peppers it with slow gentle kisses, her body pushing up to his as she seeks better access.

Whitley is stunned at the first kiss but by the third, he relaxes into the soft swarm of tenderness he’s receiving. He wraps his arms around her middle to better feel her warmth. After Penny places a final kiss on his forehead she moves her hands to wrap around his shoulders, burying her face into the crook of his neck. The two exchange no more words, instead they are lulled to sleep by the soft tones of each other’s breathing and the beats of their hearts.

As she begins to drift off Penny recalls the state in which this all came to be. She still hadn’t told Whitley she was an android, Jacques had still beaten his son mercilessly without punishment, and her boots were still covered in the ashy entrails of her previous night’s outburst. This was far from over and the consequences would come back to bite her at some point.

But right now, Penny didn’t care about any of that. Right now she wanted to sleep in the arms of the boy she loved, even though this could be the last time she did.

[wingedblooms]

I was rereading the scene of Yrene’s visit to Silba’s Womb, and I was struck again how the language reminded me of the divine trio (Mother, Cauldron, Fate) and Nesta’s experience at the dusk service in acosf.

A plush cloth cushioning her head against the unforgiving stone lip of the tub, Yrene breathed in the Womb’s thick air, watching it rise and vanish into the clear, crisp darkness squatting far overhead. All around her echoed high-pitched, sweet ringing, occasionally interrupted by solitary clear notes. (tod)

Darkness squatting, as in how the Cauldron squats?

I saw the king standing over a map in a war-tent, flanked by Jurian and several commanders, the Cauldron squatting in the center of the room behind them. (acowar)

Back to Yrene:

No one in the Torre knew who had first brought the various bells of silver and glass and bronze down to the open chamber of Silba’s Womb. Some bells had been there so long they were crusted with mineral deposits, their ringing as water dropped from the stalactites now no more than a faint plunk. But it was tradition—one Yrene herself had participated in—for each new acolyte to bring a bell of her choosing. To have her name and date of entry into the Torre engraved on it, and to then find a place for it, before she first immersed herself in the bubbling waters of the Womb floor. The bell to hang for eternity, offering music and guidance to all healers who came afterward; the voices of their beloved sisters forever singing to them.

And considering how many healers had passed through the Torre halls, considering the number of bells, large and small, that now hung throughout the space … The entire chamber, nearly the size of the khagan’s great hall, was full of the echoing, layered ringing. A steady hum that filled Yrene’s head, her bones, as she soaked in the delicious heat.

The layered ringing of bells (a braid?) is a steady hum that fills Yrene’s head and bones in the stone cavern underground (stones and bones?), and these conditions seem to allow her to commune with a presence briefly.

Some ancient architect had discovered the hot springs far beneath the Torre and constructed a network of tubs built into the floor so that the water flowed between them, a constant stream of warmth and movement. Yrene held her hand against one of the vents in the side of the tub, letting the water ripple through her fingers on its way to the vent on the other end, to pass back into the stream itself—and into the slumbering heart of the earth.

[…]

In the curling steam, Yrene lifted her hand before her and studied the ring, the way the light bent along the gold and smoldered in the garnet. All around, bells rang and hummed and sang, blending with the trickling water until she was adrift in a stream of living sound. (tod)

She was adrift in a stream of living sound…kind of like how Nesta was dropped into a bottomless pool of sound?

Water—Silba’s element. To bathe in the sacred waters here, untouched by the world above, was to enter Silba’s very lifeblood. Yrene knew she was not the only healer who had taken the waters and felt as if she were indeed nestled in the warmth of Silba’s womb. As if this space had been made for them alone.

And the darkness above her … it was different from what she had spied in Lord Westfall’s body. The opposite of that blackness. The darkness above her was that of creation, of rest, of unformed thought.

Yrene stared into it, into the womb of Silba herself. And could have sworn she felt something staring back. Listening, while she thought through all Lord Westfall had told her.

Things out of ancient nightmares. Things from another realm. Demons. Dark magics. Poised to unleash themselves upon her homeland. Even in the soothing, warm waters, Yrene’s blood chilled. (tod)

It’s interesting that Yrene contrasts two darknesses here: one of creation, of rest, and another of ancient nightmares. My mind instantly thought about the difference between Elain and Nesta’s mental gates:

If Elain’s mental gates were those of a sleeping garden, Nesta’s …They belonged to an ancient fortress, sharp and brutal. The sort I imagined they once impaled people upon. (acowar)

One sister possesses the darkness of rest and creation (Elain), and the other the darkness of nightmares and death (Nesta). In acosf, Amren mentions that Nesta’s power would create a Trove of Nightmares, so it’s possible Elain’s power might create the opposite: a Trove of Dreams. Things that bring beauty, comfort, and joy into the world, like her actual gifts. Keep this in mind as we move forward in this scene.

The ringing of the bells flowed and ebbed, lulling her mind to rest, to open.

She’d go to the library tonight. See if there was any information regarding all the lord had claimed, if perhaps someone before her had any thoughts on magically granted injuries.

Yet it would not be an injury that solely relied upon her to heal.

She’d suggested as much before leaving. But to battle that thing within him…How?

Yrene mouthed the word into the steam and dark, into the ringing, bubbling quiet.

She could still see her probe of magic recoiling, still feel its repulsion from that demon-born power. The opposite of what she was, what her magic was. In the darkness hovering overhead, she could see it all. In the darkness far above, tucked into Silba’s earthly womb…it beckoned.

As if to say, You must enter where you fear to tread.

Yrene swallowed. To delve into that festering pit of power that had latched itself onto the lord’s back…

You must enter, the sweet darkness whispered, the water singing along with it while it flowed around and past her. As if she were swimming in Silba’s veins.

You must enter, it murmured again, the darkness above seeming to spread, to inch closer.

Yrene let it. And let herself stare deeper, move deeper, into that dark.

To fight that festering force within the lord, to risk it for some test of Hafiza’s, to risk it for a son of Adarlan when her own people were being attacked or battling in that distant war and every day delayed her…I can’t.

You won’t, the lovely darkness challenged.

Yrene balked. She had promised Hafiza to remain, to heal him, but what she’d felt today … It could take an untold amount of time. If she could even find a way to help him. She’d promised to heal him, and though some injuries required the healer to walk the road with their patient, this injury of his—

The darkness seemed to recede.

I can’t, Yrene insisted.

It did not answer again. Distantly, as if she were now far away, a bell rang, clear and pure.

Yrene blinked at the sound, the world tumbling into focus. Her limbs and breath returning, as if she’d drifted above them. (tod)

It seems as though the conditions of the Womb mimic the Cauldron, leading to Yrene’s discussion with that sweet and lovely darkness. Was that darkness the divine trio, or a wandering, mystical seer from another world who was also communing with the divine trio? It is most likely the divine trio, but I’ve wondered if Elain, like a rose among the thorns, is able to commune and travel with the divine trio through her murky realm. Perhaps, if her Sight is connected to sound like @offtorivendell, @silverlinedeyes and I have discussed, she hears the voices of others—within and beyond her world—calling out for help. Is that how she heard Feyre’s plea to the Cauldron while she was connected to it during the Hybern battle? Do her Cauldron-blessed powers function like a magical, interconnected waterway that she can navigate to faraway places and interact with the beings she hears?

Is that what happened when she was living in the House of Wind?

She looked away—toward the windows. “I can hear your heart,” she said quietly.

He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he said nothing, and drained his tea, even as it burned his mouth.

“When I sleep,” she murmured, “I can hear your heart beating through the stone.” She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. “Can you hear mine?”

He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.” (acowar)

Who, exactly, is Elain speaking to in this scene? I’ve discussed some ideas before in light of the crossover, and how it would impact her future story in particular. Is it possible she’s physically present with Lucien, but got caught on a current in her mind and traveled to another place? Another time, even? Or was it a whisper on the wind? She didn’t know about her gifts at this point, so she had little to no control over what she was experiencing. Either way, I hope we learn more about that lovely darkness in Elain’s story. Perhaps it is a thing of secret, lovely beauty that Elain and the priestesses share. ✨

Forbidden secrets

This theory was written in honor of @elriel-month and combines prompts from weeks 1-3. Okay, so week 3 might be a stretch but gardening on a grander scale is proposed and I think it counts. Spoilers for other Sarah J. Maas series, including TOG and CC.

Two Secret-Keepers

Sarah has talked about planting secrets for the next ACOTAR book, so naturally my mind turns to our notorious secret-keepers: Azriel, the spymaster, and Elain, the seer. Both are, as Sarah explicitly points out for us, skilled in the art of uncovering and keeping secrets.

Feyre smiled. “Elain was the only one who guessed. She caught me vomiting two mornings in a row.” She nodded toward Azriel. “I think she’s got you beat for secret-keeping.” (acosf)

Azriel’s got no shortage of lovers, though, don’t worry. He’s better at keeping them secret than we are, but … he has them.” (acomaf)

On a Forbidden Adventure

Not only are both matched in secrecy, but they are also forbidden from doing what they want.

“Then go off on adventures,” Nesta said. “Go drink and fuck strangers. But stay away from the Cauldron.” (acosf)

Rhys bared his teeth. “So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to the pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.” (Azriel’s bonus chapter)

But, you see, they have a tendency to challenge commands (even if that is a more recent development for Elain, I think it’s here to stay):

Elain remained in the doorway, her face pale but her expression harder than Nesta had ever seen it. “You do not decide what I can and cannot do, Nesta.” (acosf)

“You can’t order me to do that.” (Azriel’s bonus chapter)

I believe these parallels are designed to set up an adventure for Azriel and Elain that involve the sacred sister peaks. Both Feyre and Nesta have overcome challenges in these mountains, so it would make sense for our spymaster and seer to continue this trend with a different kind of mission that suits their powers: together, they can explore and unearth the forbidden secrets that lie beneath the sacred peaks.

Mapping the Secrets of the Sister Peaks

In ACOSF, Sarah refers to the sacred mountains—barren sister peaks, at odds with those around them—in a way that reminds us of the Archerons and sacred trio (Mother, Fate, and Cauldron, or Urd as I have theorized elsewhere).

Eris was waiting for Nesta and Cassian when they arrived in a forest clearing nestled in the Middle. But Nesta didn’t bother to do more than glance at the High Lord’s son—not with the sight rising above the trees. The sacred mountain—the mountain under which Feyre, Rhys, and all the other High Lords had been trapped by Amarantha. It rose like a wave on the horizon, bleak and barren and somehow thrumming with presence.

Sound familiar? It should. Sarah has been planting this water imagery since at least ACOMAF, starting with Elain’s emergence from the Cauldron:

And as if it had been tipped by invisible hands, the Cauldron turned on its side. More water than seemed possible dumped out in a cascade. Black, smoke-coated water. And Elain, as if she’d been thrown by a wave, washed onto the stones facedown. Her legs were so pale—so delicate. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen them bare. […] Elain sucked in a breath, her fine-boned back rising, her wet nightgown nearly sheer. And as she rose from the ground onto her elbows, the gag in place, as she twisted to look at me—Nesta began roaring again. Pale skin started to glow. Her face had somehow become more beautiful—infinitely beautiful, and her ears … Elain’s ears were now pointed beneath her sodden hair. (acomaf)

And then when Nesta makes her bargain with the Cauldron:

And as it faded, dark ink splashed upon Nesta’s back, visible through her half-shredded shirt, as if it were a wave crashing upon the shore. A bargain. With the Cauldron itself. Yet Cassian could have sworn a luminescent, gentle hand prevented the light from leaving her body altogether. (acosf)

To Cassian’s chagrin, we learn more about these sacred peaks from Eris:

Eris shrugged, and Nesta knew Cassian monitored his every breath. “There are three of them, you know. Sister peaks. This one, the mountain called the Prison, and the one the Illyrian brutes call Ramiel. All bald, barren mountains at odds with those around them.”

“We don’t know why they exist, but do you not find it strange that two out of the three have underground palaces carved into them?” […] Eris gave him a mocking smile, but continued, “Unsurprisingly, the Illyrians were never curious enough to see what secrets lie beneath Ramiel. If it, too, was carved up like the others by ancient hands.”

“I thought Amarantha made the court Under the Mountain herself,” Nesta said. “Oh, she decorated it and made us act like a sorry imitation of your Court of Nightmares, but the tunnels and halls were carved long before. By who, we don’t know.” (acosf)

There are palaces buried deep under these sacred mountains, or at least two out of three that have been confirmed. Ramiel remains a mystery. These underground palaces seem to be linked in unexpected ways, and lead all the way back to the Middle—a place with its own forbidden secrets.

The Middle

“Oorid was once a sacred place,” Amren said. “Warriors were laid to rest in its night-black waters. But Oorid changed to a place of darkness—don’t give me that look, Rhysand, you know what I mean—a long time ago. Filled with such evil that no one will venture there, and only the worst of the faeries are drawn to it. They say the water there flows to Under the Mountain, and the creatures who live in the bog have long used its underground waterways to travel through the Middle, even into the mountains of the surrounding courts.”

Feyre frowned. “It can’t be more specific, though?” She asked Rhys, “Do we have a detailed map of the Middle?”

Rhys shook his head. “It’s forbidden to map the Middle beyond vague landmarks.” He pointed to the sacred mountain in its center, where he’d been held for nearly fifty years. “The Mountain, the woods, the bog … All can be seen from land and air. But its secrets, those discovered on foot—those are forbidden.”

Feyre’s frown didn’t lighten. “By whom?”

“An ancient council of the High Lords. The Middle is a place where wild magic still dwells and thrives and feeds. We respect it as its own entity, and do not wish to provoke its wrath by revealing its mysteries.” (acosf)

When they travel to Oorid in the Middle, the darkness Amren spoke of is readily apparent. It seems to be in a death-like slumber, and evokes imagery connected to the sacred trio and Elain in surprising ways:

But then gray, watery light hit her. And the air—the air was heavy, full of slow-running water and mold and loamy earth. No wind moved around them; not even a breeze. […] Oorid stretched before them. She had never seen a place so dead.

The oppressive air muffled even the sound of their wings, like Oorid would abide no sound disturbing its ancient slumber. […] Islands of grass dotted the expanse, some so crowded with brambles that he could find no safe place to land. The tangles of thorns were a mockery of what might have been—as if Oorid had ever produced roses. Not a single flower bloomed.

He screamed, but it was soundless. Just as the dead were soundless, surging from the murky bottom, some in marching formation, and converging on him. […] “Mother save us,” Azriel whispered, and it was undiluted terror, not awe, hushing his voice as the dead rose from Oorid’s depths. (acosf)

As an aside, we know that Nesta raised the dead in Oorid with the Mask. And it’s likely that she will, indeed, need to call upon thousands to help defeat an ancient enemy in the future:

Thousands and thousands of bodies. But she would not call thousands. Not yet. Her blood was a cold song, the Mask a slithering echo to it, whispering of all she might do. Home, it seemed to sigh. Home. (acosf)

From the information we are given in the text, it seems like Oorid—which is corrupted and lacks life—is the source of the water flowing deep within the earth, into the sacred peaks, and even other courts. Is it possible that, if the Daglan were indeed related to the Asteri, they used this source as a way to drink power from the land like wine? And did they take too much, causing its most sacred places to become bleak and barren? Did the land fall into a deep, death-like sleep to protect itself?

Rhys lifted a hand, and a book of legends from a shelf behind him floated to his fingers. He laid it upon the desk. He flipped it open to a page, revealing an image of a group of tall, strange-looking beings with crowns atop their heads. “The Fae were not the first masters of this world. According to our oldest legends, most now forgotten, we were created by beings who were near-gods—and monsters. The Daglan. They ruled for millennia, and enslaved us and the humans. They were petty and cruel and drank the magic of the land like wine.” (acosf)

Ramiel and the Illyrian Mountains

The Illyrian Mountains surrounding Ramiel are described similarly: ancient, slumbering, secret…and connected by water-carved caves, like the Middle.

It was all so still, yet watchful, somehow. As if she were surrounded by something ancient and half-awake. As if each peak had its own moods and preferences, like whether the clouds clung to or avoided them, or trees lined their sides or left them bare. Their shapes were so odd and long that they looked as if behemoths had once lain down beside the rivers, pulled a rumpled blanket over themselves, and fallen asleep forever.

The full moon had shown her face, so bright the mountains, the rivers, the valley were illuminated enough that even the leaves on the trees far below were visible. She’d never seen such a view. It seemed like a secret, slumbering land that time had forgotten.

But Cassian paused before a landscape painting of a towering, barren mountain, void of life yet somehow thrumming with presence. Snow and pines crusted the smaller peaks around it, but this strange, bald mountain … Only a black stone jutted from its top. A monolith, Nesta realized, stepping closer. […] The sacred mountain from the Blood Rite. Indeed, three stars faintly glowed in the twilight skies above the peak. It was a near-perfect, real-life rendering of the Night Court’s insignia. (acosf)

Like the sacred mountain in the Middle, Ramiel is also surrounded by water imagery:

Ramiel might as well have been across an ocean. It loomed straight ahead, with two mountains and a sea of forest and the gods knew what else between her and its barren slopes. It looked identical to Feyre’s painting.

Around a river, she’d learned on her hike with Cassian, cave systems were often carved out by the water. (acosf)

Even before the spin-offs, Elain stared at the barren ground when they entered the Illyrian war camp for the first time. I can’t help but wonder if the sight of it made her hands itch to make something—anything—grow there. If she looked at it and saw its potential, like she did with her family’s cottage.

Warriors and females laboring around the fires silently monitored us. Nesta stared them all down. Elain kept her focus on the dry, rocky ground.

But Elain wrapped her own blue cloak around herself, averting her eyes from all of those towering, muscled warriors, the army camp bustling toward the horizon … She was a rose bloom in a mud field. Filled with galloping horses. […] If Elain was a blooming flower in this army camp, then Nesta … she was a freshly forged sword, waiting to draw blood. (acowar)

The language Sarah uses in this scene has already proven to be foreshadowing for Nesta (who is compared to a freshly forged sword; she then forges swords in ACOSF with her magic). Elain is a rose bloom in a mud field, a place that is bleak and barren, preparing for death. Is it possible she might map the secrets of the land with her powers, and help it bloom in earnest again? Her powers—which seem to involve tracking and mapping like the mystics in CC—may allow her to uncover secrets that were either lost or forbidden before even setting foot in these places. This would provide a significant advantage to missions that require any recovery of important objects on foot. And the mysteries buried within the earth may lead her to those above:

Emerie’s eyes shone. “Long ago—so long ago they don’t even have a precise date for it—a great war was fought between the Fae and the ancient beings who oppressed them. One of its key battles was here, in these mountains. Our forces were battered and outnumbered, and for some reason, the enemy was desperate to reach the stone at the top of Ramiel. We were never taught the reason why; I think it’s been forgotten. […] This Rite is all to honor him. So much of the history has been lost, but the memory of his bravery remains.” (acosf)

Why, exactly, were the ancient enemies (who I believe were the Daglan and related to the Asteri in CC) so desperate to get to the top of the mountain? Is it possible the obsidian stone—that heals and transports—is one of the Made items that was forgotten after this epic battle?

Amren’s eyes glowed with a remnant of her power. “The Cauldron Made many objects of power, long ago, forging weapons of unrivaled might. Most were lost to history and war, and when I went into the Prison, only three remained. At the time, some claimed there were four, or that the fourth had been Unmade, but today’s legends only tell of three.”

Rhys threw her a frown. “Those who possessed them grew careless. They were lost in ancient wars, or to treachery, or simply because they were misplaced and forgotten.”

“Made objects tend to not wish to be found by just anyone,” Amren cautioned. “That they have faded from memory, that even I didn’t think of them immediately in the fight against Hybern, suggests that perhaps they willed it that way. Wanted to stay hidden. True things of power have such gifts.” […] “They were Made in a time when wild magic still roamed the earth, and the Fae were not masters of all. Made objects back then tended to gain their own self-awareness and desires. It was not a good thing.” Amren’s face clouded with memory, and a chill whispered over Nesta’s spine.

Rhys mused, “Just as I’m able to alter a mind to forget, perhaps they have a similar gift.”

“When Briallyn was Made, it likely removed from her the Dread Trove’s glamour, for lack of a better term. Recognized her as kin. Where she might have glanced over a mention of the items before and never thought twice, now it stuck. Or perhaps called to her, presented itself in a dream.” All of them, all at once, looked at Nesta. “You,” Amren said quietly, “are the same. So is Elain.” (acosf)

Is it possible that the Illyrians can’t remember why their enemy was desperate to reach the top of Ramiel, where the stone remains, because it is Made and willed it that way? True things of power have such gifts. Is that why Elain has already been forgotten in the narrative of the most recent war, as @sleepylivart has theorized before.

“I …” Nesta blinked. “Do you not know who I am?”

“I know you are the High Lady’s sister. That you slew the King of Hybern.” Gwyn’s face grew solemn, haunted. “That you, like Lady Feyre, were once mortal. Human.”

Nesta sank into the chair beside Gwyn’s. “I’m not a warrior.”

“You slew the King of Hybern,” Gwyn repeated. “With the shadowsinger’s knife.”

“Luck and rage,” Nesta admitted. “And I had made a promise to kill him for what he did to me and my sister.” (acosf)

Did she, like Rhysand and Made objects, will it that way?

Elain fell into step beside me, peering at Lucien. He noticed it. “I heard you made the killing blow,” he said.

Elain studied the trees ahead. “Nesta did. I just stabbed him.” (acowar)

Would the stone recognize Elain as kin, like the Trove objects’ response to Nesta? What might she be able to heal, or explore, with that stone? This special kinship may be one reason why Elain, with her sisters, is Starborn. It allows her to find and wield Made objects unlike other fae. It sets them apart—at odds with those around them like the sister peaks. And as @offtorivendell, @silverlinedeyes, and I have discussed before, if others use these objects without that connection, there are consequences. Helion’s reaction to the Mask is a stark contrast to Nesta’s kinship and use of it; he is repelled by it, and wonders if the consequences of its past use were written in his very blood. Could those consequences involve the betrayal and death of Fionn? Did he ultimately become corrupted by the power of the Trove because he was not kin, not protected from its influence like those who are Made?

Helion whirled to Nesta, all sensuality vanished. “You truly wore this and lived?” It wasn’t a question meant to be answered. “Cover it again, please. I can’t stand it.” […] “Doesn’t it rake its cold claws down your senses?” Helion asked.

Helion shuddered, and Nesta threw the cloth over the Mask. As if the cloth somehow blinded it to their presence. “Perhaps an ancestor of mine once used it, and the warning of its cost is imprinted upon my blood.”

Rhys’s eyes flicked to Ataraxia, then to Cassian. “Some strains of the mythology claim that one of the Fae heroes who rose up to overthrow them was Fionn, who was given the great sword Gwydion by the High Priestess Oleanna, who had dipped it into the Cauldron itself. Fionn and Gwydion overthrew the Daglan. A millennium of peace followed, and the lands were divided into rough territories that were the precursors to the courts—but at the end of those thousand years, they were at each other’s throats, on the brink of war.” His face tightened. “Fionn unified them and set himself above them as High King. The first and only High King this land has ever had.” (acosf)

The Prison

The sacred mountain on the prison island has also been changed, and it can no longer sustain the wild creatures that once lived there.

Helion’s most beloved pair—this black stallion, Meallan, and his mate—hadn’t produced offspring in three hundred years, and that last foal hadn’t made it out of weaning before he’d succumbed to an illness no healer could remedy. According to legend, the pegasuses had come from the island the Prison sat upon—had once fed in fair meadows that had long given way to moss and mist. Perhaps that was part of the decline: their homeland had vanished, and whatever had sustained them there was no longer. (acosf)

We are told that Clotho discovered ancient songs in the lower levels of the cavernous Night Court library. These songs are a wave of sound and function like a dream that transports Nesta to the Prison. She even flows into the mountain, like she might if she were traveling through an underground waterway.

“Some of the songs you’ll hear are so ancient they predate the written word. Some of them are so old we didn’t even have them in Sangravah. Clotho found them in books shelved below Level Seven. Hana—she’ll be the one who plays the lute—figured out how to read the music.”

As that seventh bell finished pealing, music erupted. Not from any instruments, but from all around. As if they were one voice, the priestesses began to sing, a wave of sparkling sound. […] It was like a braid, the song—a plait of seven voices, weaving in and out, individual strands that together formed a pattern. […] She’d never heard such music. Like a spell, a dream given form. The entire room sang, each voice resonating through the stone.

The music took form behind Nesta’s eyes as the priestesses sang lyrics in languages so old, no one voiced them anymore. She saw what the song spoke of: mossy earth and golden sun, clear rivers and the deep shadows of an ancient forest. The harp strummed, and mountains rolled ahead, as if a veil had been cleared with the stroke of those strings, and she was flying toward it—toward a massive, mist-veiled mountain, the land barren save for moss and stones and a gray, stormy sea around it. The mountain itself held two peaks at its very top, and the stones jutting from its sides were carved in strange, ancient symbols, as old as the song itself.

Nesta’s body melted away, her bones and the stones of the cavern a distant memory as she flowed into the mountain, beheld towering, carved gates, and passed through them into a darkness so complete it was primordial; darkness that was full of living things, terrible things.

So Nesta drifted down and down, the harp and the voices pulsing and guiding, until she stopped before a rock. She laid a hand on it to find it was only an illusion, and she passed through it, down another long hall, beneath the mountain itself, and then she stood in a cavern, almost the twin to the one the priestesses sang in, as if they were linked in song and dreaming. (acosf)

Is it possible that these mountains are not only linked physically, but magically? If so, this makes it even more likely that Elain might use her murky realm of dreams, which I believe is connected to the sacred trio and the waters of the Cauldron, to navigate the magical waterways that may exist between the peaks. And who knows what she might find…or even wake in the womb of these sacred mountains?

Healing the Womb of the Earth

The language Sarah uses to describe the sacred sister peaks and their cavernous depths is not exclusive to Prythian. Healers in TOG use a sacred underground cave called Silba’s Womb. Silba was believed to be the goddess of healing and she was associated with owls, purple, and water.

Candles had been tucked into natural alcoves, or had been clumped at either end of each sunken tub, gilding the sulfurous steam and setting the owls carved into every wall and slick pillar in flickering relief.

A plush cloth cushioning her head against the unforgiving stone lip of the tub, Yrene breathed in the Womb’s thick air, watching it rise and vanish into the clear, crisp darkness squatting far overhead.

Some ancient architect had discovered the hot springs far beneath the Torre and constructed a network of tubs built into the floor so that the water flowed between them, a constant stream of warmth and movement. Yrene held her hand against one of the vents in the side of the tub, letting the water ripple through her fingers on its way to the vent on the other end, to pass back into the stream itself—and into the slumbering heart of the earth.

An acolyte had been waiting with a lightweight robe of lavender—Silba’s color—for Yrene to wear into the Womb proper, where she’d discarded it beside the pool and stepped in, naked save for her mother’s ring.

Water—Silba’s element. To bathe in the sacred waters here, untouched by the world above, was to enter Silba’s very lifeblood. Yrene knew she was not the only healer who had taken the waters and felt as if she were indeed nestled in the warmth of Silba’s womb. As if this space had been made for them alone.

The darkness above her was that of creation, of rest, of unformed thought. […] Yrene stared into it, into the womb of Silba herself. And could have sworn she felt something staring back. Listening, while she thought through all Lord Westfall had told her. (tod)

It is perhaps no coincidence that Elain is inspired by Blodeuwedd, who was transformed into an owl, and has begun to glow with health while wearing the color…purple. Her emergence from the Cauldron even evoked the water imagery most associated with the power of the sacred trio, which includes the Mother. Silba’s healing waters are compared to a womb. And like a womb, it is calming and creative, and allows the healer to emerge renewed. We learn of another dark womb from Nesta in the acotar series:

There was night, and there was the darkness of extinguishing a candle, and then there was this. Not only the true absence of light, but … a womb. The womb from which all life had come and would return, neither good nor evil, only dark, dark, dark. […] Her name drifted to her as if rising from the depths of some black ocean. […] The darkness pulsed, beckoning. (acosf)

This language reminds me again of the sacred trio, especially the Mother, who is believed to be a primal goddess associated with creation and wild magic:

Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer. (acosf)

For whatever reason, Nesta placed Elain’s carved rose—a symbol of love and beauty and color in the bleakness of winter—next to the Mother. It is half-hidden in shadows, like Elain herself. There are many symbolic meanings for roses, including (1) love and beauty, (2) strength through silence, (3) healing, and (4) divination and secrecy (more on how those apply to Elain here). Like the Mother, Elain is also elusive and associated with symbols of rest and renewal.

The gates to her mind…solid iron, covered in vines of flowers—or it would have been. The blossoms were all sealed, sleeping buds tucked into tangles of leaves and thorns. (acowar)

The Faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. (Azriel’s bonus chapter)

Her sister’s delicate scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the red-stoned hall like a promise of spring, a sparkling river that she followed to the open doors of the chamber. Elain stood at the wall of windows, clad in a lilac gown whose close-fitting bodice showed how well her sister had filled out since those initial days in the Night Court. Gone were the sharp angles, replaced by softness and elegant curves. […] Her sister turned toward her, glowing with health. Elain’s smile was as bright as the setting sun beyond the windows. (acosf)

And as though the Mother is indeed next to her, Azriel mentions her as a witness to their secret, forbidden encounter:

But he could have this. The one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it. “Yes,” Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. (acosf)

Could these two secret, forbidden lovers merge their powers of sight and sound to find the source of the corruption in the Middle? It will likely involve unearthing events of the past that were lost, including—potentially—the actions of Theia’s forgotten daughter. And the secrets they uncover as they navigate time and space might help Elain, like a rose bloom in the mud, clear the corruption at the root and heal the wild magic that once bloomed and thrived throughout the land. Together, Azriel and Elain could create a thing of secret, lovely beauty, showing the Spymaster that he can help heal rather than torture, and finally—finally—feel hopeful about his future with Elain at his side.

[lulu-the-warden]

Here’s the finished version!

His name is Geode and he’s 1500 years old…old enough to have gray fur. His fur is much longer than the average warden’s and he spends hours grooming it every day. He mostly eats goats and sheep that slip and fall into the icy ravine he lives in. He keeps a small patch of sweet berries growing near the lava lake that borders his deep dark home. There’s never really enough food for him, so he’s a little thin under all that fur. His bones and joints tend to hurt when it gets really cold, especially right before a big blizzard. To help with his aches, Geode will sleep by the lava lake or soak in the water that flows next to the lava, since it’s nice and hot and mineral rich.

Geode walks with a wooden cane because he had a bad injury to his right leg. A miner hit him with a powerful trident and his leg was never quite the same. He has trouble pursuing trespassers, but his sonic boom attack is very powerful, making up for it. He has also learned to follow scents very, very well.

There is no ancient city in the deep dark Geode lives in. It’s actually a pretty small area far away from most human settlements. There is a tundra village on the north side of his mountain and a pillagers outpost on the south side. The illagers and villagers feared and revered Geode, giving him most things he wanted. Because some illagers/villagers are visually impaired, they do have books written in their version of braille, which Geode learned to read. If a book has regular writing that is raised or engraved enough to feel, he can kind of read that, too. Geode is a very intelligent warden and he enjoys reading. Over the past millenium, he’s gathered a wealth of knowledge that most wardens don’t have.

There are narrow spaghetti caves leading away from the cavern under that mountain that Geode lives in, but he rarely ventures into these because they are narrow and have unstable gravel. If he had to, though, he could travel through these tunnels to reach other deep darks and visit other wardens.

[fieryhonesty]

The life of You

[AO3]

“I’m deeply sorry for not posting for a while. I hate to admit it but it took me over a week to think for a decent name for this and next chapter. But good thing is I thought of this whole fic and came to an end? Like I’m no longer aiming at an invisible finish line. All what’s left now is write it down and serve the main dish.”

Words: 2462

Today was one of your free days which you had decided to spend by exploring eastern area of Mondstadt. It was mostly just a walk for you. Except one time where you had to draw your blade and deal with a dozen of hydro slimes. 

They appeared out of nowhere. There was not even water around to attract them to. Well you wouldn't call yourself an adventurer, a swordswoman or a cryo wielder if you couldn't deal with a few slimes. 

You had spent most of the time hiking. Sometimes stopping and looking behind, enjoying the view at the city of freedom from distance. The huge windmills are probably the signature thing for it. One doesn't need to know much about the area. But if they are told 'go after the big windmills' they won't get lost that easily. 

Well, unless they decide to take it through the forest nearby the city. Getting lost in there is not hard. Fortunately the forest is not that huge and getting out shouldn't be a problem. The forest is relatively safe as only boars and other wild animals appear there. 

The forest is also having a small mine. Which means the city of freedom has to assure miner's safety, thus planting traps around or sending in several soldiers to deal with issues. Or at least that's what you have heard from a local miner with whom you shared a few drinks a while ago. 

As you climbed high enough to look over the entire eastern area something caught your attention. Shielding your face from the sunlight with your left hand, narrowing eyes. Why are there several hilichurls dancing in circles around something? Right in front of a temple?

This area should be clean from them. Did they build a camp nearby? Should you go back to the city and report it? It's just a bunch of hilichurls. It doesn't seem like an issue. You have dealt with much worse. Perhaps you could check it out. But first you'll have to descend again. As you feel sick while using a glider you refrain from using it at all. Which of course brings difficulties here and now. Fortunately you never got into trouble where you would be forced to use it.

Taking your time to carefully get down on the road. Walking in the direction you saw the monsters. Sneaking behind the trees and bushes, getting close as much as you can. 

Indeed, they are dancing around something that looks like a campfire. That would be alright, perhaps a ritual of theirs. But you had noticed the Abyss spell hovering just above the fire. Even if you wanted to ignore it at first, now you are obliged to check what's going on. 

The spell wouldn't appear out of nowhere. However the creature which casted it is nowhere to be seen. It's probably in the temple. There are four hilichurls, one of them is a shaman. Even if it didn't have a different appearance, you would be able to tell the difference from the rest as it was waving around with its staff.

Summoning your sword, giving it a quick glance. You still can't believe Diluc got you such a fancy looking sword. The blade have engraved runes close to the guard. The steel is a slightly blue shade and the hilt is so comfortable to hold. You do not need to be an expert to know this weapon is such a high quality. 

Mentally shaking your head as you remembered your scarlet hair friend's smug expression when you showed him the weapon. He rather seemed satisfied seeing you holding it. You didn't question him any more about the sword. You knew it would be pointless. Instead you flashed him a quick smile and thanked. 

You take a deep breath before dashing out of your cover. Using the momentum of surprise and bashing the closest hilichurl's mask. It didn't break but you could see the huge crack on the mask. Smirking for yourself and avoiding one of the monsters which attacked you from right. 

You thought of taking down the shaman first. As you tried to make a step you noticed how you are being pulled backwards. 

‘Shit!' 

It already casted one of its spells. You know it doesn't last long. But that doesn't mean you are not bothered by the fact how the other three hilichurls were also sucked into the vacuum. Attacking you.

Sending one of the monsters fly as you hit it hard with all your might. Blocking your side with a cryo wall. The hilichurl landed behind the shaman, making an unpleasant noise. 

The vacuum finally stopped and you can move from the spot. Slashing chest one of the attacking monsters. Ignoring its pained cry. As you knew the shaman would try to run away, you used your elemental powers to freeze it on spot. Sending it down with one swing. 

You are aware of that one hilichurl which landed behind the shaman. It's about to hit you with its club, clearly angered. You managed to manifest two of your cryo blades. Parrying its attack.

The blades disappeared as quickly as you made your next move. Feeling like it would be under your level to rely on your cryo powers to deal with a few weak enemies. Quickly finishing the remaining two. Wiping out the blood off your sword before making it disappear again. 

You glance at the campfire. The marking is gloving. Maybe it's a defensive mechanism, letting its caster know somebody neutralized the guards. Well if you can call a bunch of weak hilichurls as guards. 

You are not wasting any time and sliding into the temple. With careful steps you had passed through several corridors, avoiding any contact with hilichurls. You had expected the temple won't be empty. Those annoying Abyss Mages never leave anything unnoticed. If there are no traps then a ridiculous amount of brainwashed monsters delaying any intruder. 

If you are glad for something, it's the fact how agile and flexible you are. With some parkour tricks you managed to move across a huge part of the temple. Rather not looking down. You had learned it's a bad thing unless you want to feel dizzy. It reminds you of gliding, minus the weird feeling being carried to the side you didn't even mean to. You never said you are good with gliding!

However, in the next room you couldn't avoid fighting. Dealing with archers and one big mitachurl swinging its huge axe left and right was not fun. You were forced to use your ice spear in order to quickly deal with them. You felt like the Abyss Mage was behind the corner. The evil presence was strong.

With the sword in your hand you pressed forward, looking around for any possible trap. 

"Aha!" 

You whispered for yourself as a marking on the ground appeared. Being glad those traps can be easily discovered if one is careful enough. Also can be triggered by using magic. However you never can be sure what kind of trap you are dealing with so it's better to avoid it.

Carefully walking around, eyes glued at the markings just in case it would seem to activate. Pushing the door open and you find yourself in a bigger room. There's a petrified tree in the middle and the little furball was waving with its staff in the air. Casting something at the tree, making it glow. 

It knew about your presence. If the campfire outside has not alarmined it, then the loud battle before surely did. With one quick motion it casted a protective barrier around its body. Evil laughter escaping it's lips. Fortunately for you it's just a hydro mage. Annoying to deal with but also you know about how easily the shield can be broken if it's frozen.

"Stupid human, thinking you could outsmart me?!" 

The blue mage yelled at you, waving with its small fist in the air in a threatening manner.

"Ha. Trying to look dangerous are we?"

You taunted it. You can't help it but grin when the mage says something in its own language. No idea what it says but you are sure it's nothing nice.

Summoning your cryo blades. Chuckling a little. Certainly this is an interesting situation. Your day off was supposed to be just enjoying nature. Yet you find yourself facing an annoying problem. Whatever it was doing there, you will end its plans. 

Dashing forward, swinging your sword. Sending out a freezing surge of energy. The mage has quickly teleported away before the cold could reach it. Snapping your fingers and several blades fly its direction. One of them actually hits the shield right before it again teleports away. However it's not enough to completely freeze it. The frozen part quickly disappears as it gets canceled by the mage's own magic. Cryo or not, if they use enough power they can change the energy flow. Which makes it easier to remove the bad, frozen part, and reapply the hydro again.

"Persistent fool. You should have never entered this temple! You can't oppose the Order!" 

"Oh? Are you new or you really never heard of somebody blowing up an entire hideout in Liyue? Well let me just say one thing: having explosives RIGHT next to some highly explosive substance was not the brightest idea."

The mage cursed and hurled its hydro spell at you. You avoid it and dash closer to it. Your sword gets blocked by the shield which was expected. You can't get through it. Not unless you infuse your blade with cryo. As the mage chuckles at your 'stupidity' a sudden burst of cryo energy emerges from your weapon. Freezing the entire shield.

“Hmph.”

You can hear the mage’s panicked voice, it's trapped in its own shield. It will take a while before it can get rid of the frozen part. You swing your sword several times, slowly chopping away the shield and then it breaks. With your free hand you punch the mage, making it fly. Getting a second hit from the wall. Letting out a pained whine. You see how it raised its staff. It's about to teleport away again. 

'Those mages are such a nuisance all they do is running.'

You are about to give it a chase but several bubbles appeared around you. Trapping you on spot. They are about to burst. You quickly freeze them and get out of the trap. At first you didn't even notice but the little thing was celebrating, jumping from one leg to another. Sometimes you wonder how smart those things are. 

Before you could get closer to it, its shield regenerated. Great. Another cat and mouse play. At some point the roles of mouse and the cat were switched as you were forced to retreat and lure away one of its homing spells. 

When you finally break the shield again, having a tight grip on its throat. Finally you can just slam it and erase it from existence. If you have to compare dealing with Abyss Mages with something. It's probably as annoying as killing mosquitos. 

"So. What are you doing here?"

You snarl at it. You know it can't speak as you have quite a firm grip on it. Its hands are trying to free out but if there's something you know the best about them. It's the fact they lack any physical strength. They rely purely on magic. It's like dealing with a kid. But you don't want to choke it so you let it fall on the ground, pointing the tip of your sword at its face.

"Well? How many of you are here? What were you doing with the tree?"

"You think I'll tell you? Ha! Stu-" 

You kicked away it like its a football ball, your left eye is twitching.

It breathes heavily, crawling away from you. You summon a cryo blade, pinning the mage at spot. Scared shriek comes out of its lips, looking back at you.

"F-Fine I'll tell! I-Infusing a huge amount of elemental energy into those petrified trees have a negative effect-"

"Negative effect on what?"

"On the surrounding area of course!"

Narrowing your eyes and giving the mage a long look. For some reason you don't trust its words and it pisses you off even more. It's lying you think. Perhaps it would be better to just get rid of it. Rising your sword up to the air before swinging it down. Freezing the mage into a huge chunk of ice. Glaring at it for a brief moment before you get startled by a sudden clapping. 

Looking in the direction it's coming from. The Captain of Cavalry himself.

"I never get enough. Seeing you fight is exciting~" 

You roll eyes at his remark.

"Let me guess: you were here for a while but decided to just enjoy the show instead of helping me." 

You say in a nonchalant voice as you make your sword disappear.

"Correct."

"I guess I get what Diluc means about you guys are inefficient." 

You chuckle as he makes a hurt expression.

"Don't tell me you are gonna side with that grumpy guy. Anyway I was observing that Abyss Mage for a while. Been curious what it is up to and then you appeared. Technically you interfered with an investigation of the Knights."

You raise your hands up in a defeat. You know he is just joking but decided to play along. 

"Well what now, Captain? Will you arrest me?"

"Ah, no, no. Nothing like that, Sweetheart. I know what you did was purely in a good will. Besides you managed to get something out of it before..." He looks at the frozen mage. "You created an ugly sculpture."

"Pardon me? Ugly?"

"I jest. Although..."

You raise an eyebrow at him. 

"I wanted to ask you a while back but. Would you be willing to, you know spar with an old friend of yours? Like in the old days~"

His tone is smooth as always and his usual smirk is not missing. You ponder over the question. Can't help it but you feel like he is scheming something. Kaeya is always scheming after all. 

"Huh? If you want your ass getting kicked why don't you ask your brother."

His expression stiffens for a while. You actually managed to remove the smirk out of his face. Even if it's for a while, it still makes you feel satisfied. 

"If I lose I pay for a king sized dinner just for you. And perhaps some drinks at the tavern if you'd like."

King sized dinner? You realize how much you are hungry right now. Pressing your lips together. Considering the offer for a few more seconds before you agree.

Previous ✨ Next

[tabletoptrinketsbyjj]

Trinkets, 42: Interesting baubles, semi magical objects and items touched by mystery.

A talisman depicting a forgotten deity from a bygone era. If you held to the ear, the bearer can hear faint murmurings.

A rudimentary tripwire consisting of a length of thin string wrapped around two small sharpened, wooden stakes along with a length of tiny, ash-darkened, copper bells that can be wrapped around the tripwire. The trap can cover an area five feet in length.

A one gallon keg curiously labelled “Mudder's Milk” on its lid. The keg is filled with a batch of stout beer so dark, dense and filling that it could pass for a soup in bad lighting. The beverage has all the proteins, vitamins and carbs of a full course of your grandmother's best turkey dinner plus 15% alcohol. The keg contains enough beer to serve as 2d4+1 days’ worth of trail rations.

A map of the local tavern, showing several levels of basement below it. The last three levels are crossed out and "don't go here" is written in pencil.

A single black envelop upon which is a single silver glyph, lightly afire. You do not recognize the language, nor even the alphabet of the burning symbol. Regardless, while touching the mysterious inscription you are instinctively aware of its meaning, as if the words were branded with eldritch fire directly on the grey matter of your soft humanoid brain; "VACATION APPROVED”. You know in your mind exactly what it says. You wish you did not know. If you are able to ken the ancient eldritch script of the elder primordial beings from before recorded time, you are able to understand that the note was written by an unknown number of entities known as “Station Management”.

A sheet of parchment with a black handprint and the words "We Know" written underneath it.

A lustrous black flask inlaid with a silver skull pattern. It is plugged with a skull-shaped stopper with reflective red eyes. To complete its menacing appearance, the eyes glow slightly in dim light. Knowledgeable PC's can determine that the viscous green fluid the flask contains is actually an antivenin for the treatment of giant spider bites.

A clean steel sap spigot that can be rammed into a tree in order to allow it to pour forth the sap inside.

A silver chain on which hangs a polished silver bell the size of a thimble. At one point in the bearer's life, the bell will ring three times, producing three bursts of silvery sound with a brief silence after each. The vibrations that shiver through the bearer's body will seem much too strong to have been produced by such a tiny clapper. This squared trio of ringing heralds that great danger will soon befall the bearer from which he is unlikely to survive.

A painting of gnolls gambling with playing cards.

—Keep reading for 90 more trinkets.

—Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.

A talisman depicting a forgotten deity from a bygone era. If you held to the ear, the bearer can hear faint murmurings.

A rudimentary tripwire consisting of a length of thin string wrapped around two small sharpened, wooden stakes along with a length of tiny, ash-darkened, copper bells that can be wrapped around the tripwire. The trap can cover an area five feet in length.

A one gallon keg curiously labelled “Mudder's Milk” on its lid. The keg is filled with a batch of stout beer so dark, dense and filling that it could pass for a soup in bad lighting. The beverage has all the proteins, vitamins and carbs of a full course of your grandmother's best turkey dinner plus 15% alcohol. The keg contains enough beer to serve as 2d4+1 days’ worth of trail rations.

A map of the local tavern, showing several levels of basement below it. The last three levels are crossed out and "don't go here" is written in pencil.

A single black envelop upon which is a single silver glyph, lightly afire. You do not recognize the language, nor even the alphabet of the burning symbol. Regardless, while touching the mysterious inscription you are instinctively aware of its meaning, as if the words were branded with eldritch fire directly on the grey matter of your soft humanoid brain; "VACATION APPROVED”. You know in your mind exactly what it says. You wish you did not know. If you are able to ken the ancient eldritch script of the elder primordial beings from before recorded time, you are able to understand that the note was written by an unknown number of entities known as “Station Management”.

A sheet of parchment with a black handprint and the words "We Know" written underneath it.

A lustrous black flask inlaid with a silver skull pattern. It is plugged with a skull-shaped stopper with reflective red eyes. To complete its menacing appearance, the eyes glow slightly in dim light. Knowledgeable PC's can determine that the viscous green fluid the flask contains is actually an antivenin for the treatment of giant spider bites.

A clean steel sap spigot that can be rammed into a tree in order to allow it to pour forth the sap inside.

A silver chain on which hangs a polished silver bell the size of a thimble. At one point in the bearer's life, the bell will ring three times, producing three bursts of silvery sound with a brief silence after each. The vibrations that shiver through the bearer's body will seem much too strong to have been produced by such a tiny clapper. This squared trio of ringing heralds that great danger will soon befall the bearer from which he is unlikely to survive.

A painting of gnolls gambling with playing cards.

A carved stone plate with horrifying pictographic symbols etched into it.

An unremarkable silver coin whose faces sport two expressions. One face is joyfully exuberant, and the other is depressingly dour.

A deck of playing cards that will always deal the worst possible hands to all players.

A simple silver key with “Guest Room” etched finely on the handle.

A pouch of very small bones that can be fitted together to form a strange, highly complex and obviously occult symbol.

A small hourglass holding enough sand to mark the passage of one minute. The bases are made from obsidian flecked with gold and carved to resemble a long-fingered hand holding the hourglass at each end. The glass itself is made from fine crystal and the sand inside is red.

A small dark rock (Two inches in diameter) that was naturally formed into the shape of a demonic creature with bat wings folded around its body. It is semi-translucent with a dark center that sometimes seems to move. Occasionally it seems to whisper. If one listens closely, the whisper can be understood, but it is a foul and evil entreaty to do some horrible act. A bearer who chooses to obey these instructions, never feel remorse or guilt during or after carrying out the horribly despicable and particularly sadistic actions. Should a bearer who performs evil deeds at the stone’s bequest lose the rock or stops carrying it on his person, the awareness, guilt and shame of his evil deeds comes back to him all at once and he is thrown into deep despair.

A silver hand mirror ornately engraved on both sides; one side bears a frowning mask, while the opposite bears a smiling one.  There doesn't appear to be an actual mirrored surface, despite its shape.

A figurine made of twisted fragments of copper wire. It is in the shape of a bird-headed human and although it seems to be many hundreds of years old. Extremely knowledgeable PC’s are able to determine that it is in fact a fake that has been aged to appear antique. Nevertheless, it will still fool anybody who is not an expert on the art of the period. Its metal value is only a handful of copper but it can be sold for a good deal more to the right (i.e. uninformed) buyer.

A walking stick, shod with silver and with the head of an eagle as its handle. The eagle’s head once had two garnets for eyes but these have long since become mislaid. If the head is grasped firmly and unscrewed, it will reveal a long but thin container which can be used to store liquor.

A bulbous flask of opaque white glass filled with a slightly syrupy fluid that’s a deep, warm golden color, almost metallic looking.

A mask bearing a dread visage crafted of wrought iron and set, is perpetually set with a sneering saturnine face.

A pair of goggles with hexagonal mineral lenses of a sharp yellow hue, secured in bronze frames, with a black leather strap that feels slightly scaly and slimy. They give off a faint odor of rotten eggs if sniffed directly.

A dagger sized scabbard containing strips of natural sea sponges on its interior. By carefully pouring a dose of poison into the empty scabbard (An action equivalent to attacking), the bearer can saturate the sponges with the toxin, which keeps it viable and wet for up to four hours. When a dagger is drawn from the sheath, it is automatically envenomed as if the liquid was applied directly. The bearer can also pour holy water or flammable oil into the sheath but acids will destroy the sponges. This kind of item is usually illegal in areas that outlaw poison.

A large mummified paw of long dead beast. Dried blood stains the fur around the petrified claws which are still razor sharp.

A deep violet sash made of silk adorned with gold embroidery of imps and succubi dancing with each other.

A small metallic whistle with a single blowhole. The pipe is divided into a number of twisted and interlocking tubes, with many holes for the air to exit. This strange configuration produces a cacophonous mess of simultaneous sounds when blown.

A matching shaker set of celestial salt and abyssal pepper.

A hooded lantern that is painted rather intricately with a house cat motif depicting cats playing in different poses. It’s mostly painted in whites and pinks, and it has small scuff marks on one side.

A delicate bracelet, carved out of lapis lazuli, featuring the initials XER on the interior facing.

A dark leather and silk monstrous mask with jet eyes.

A jangling bracelet of tiny golden bells and fine-toothed cogs on crimson silk rope. It is suited to a small wrist interested in intricate mechanisms.

A glass jar containing a heart that continues to beat.

A plain-looking wooden bowl of water, which remains unnaturally still while inside it. Looking at one’s reflection in the water shows an idealized version of oneself, in accordance to the viewer’s ideals. Perhaps by lowering one’s head into the bowl for long enough, one can gain insight into how to become the self seen in the bowl.

A silver oak leaf cloak clasp, edged and highlighted with gold.

An ancient drinking horn crafted from some extinct beast. Those who drink from it have dreams of being a huge predator roaming unchallenged through a prehistoric landscape.

A detailed sketch of a cross section of a brain, with a long foreign object being inserted through the front. Labelled fig 2: proper extraction positioning.

A bunch of scrapped papers that, if unfolded, reveal badly written poems describing the writer's deep love for a womanly shaped rock existing in a nearby forest.

A heavy copper belt buckle resembling an axe head.

A wistful portrait of a singular dark mountain on a broad plain, trees covering the top third of it and nowhere else, far higher than trees ever normally grow on a mountain. The middle of the mountain sports two large overhangs of rock above deep depressions, not quite caves. A stream flows down the bottom third of the mountain, splitting its flow around an overhang that shelters a massive cavern entrance that goes who knows how deep.

An aged obsidian fruit knife with bronze handle.

A piece of exotic wood, carved to look like a quill, with a gold tip. Its purpose is obviously ceremonial and no doubt used for signing important decrees or documents, as it is awkward to write with.

A silver and brass mirror with lewd designs hidden around the frame.

A gilded oil lamp with ornate scrollwork cutouts of a warrior, and an evil sorcerer, meant to cast shadows on the wall in their shape.

A blood red mask made from carefully sculpted bone, shaped to look like the face of a grinning demon.

A fist sized piece of jagged garnet. The deep crimson and maroon gemstone pulses faintly and smells of blood.

A lyre crafted from wood from the vale of shadows that emits a slight ringing at all times and a subtle glow of green when it is played.

A leather pouch containing dozens of petrified raven's claws with the talons splayed outwards. If scattered across an area the stony claws function as caltrops in every respect.

An old copper door knocker fashioned to resemble the face of an eldritch creature. It is always cold to the touch.  

A two-foot-long wooden rod bearing a silver wolf’s-head at the tip, and its length is inscribed with moon-sigils.

A small, masterfully crafted toy carriage made of stained black walnut complete with leather driver's seat and interior upholstered in crushed velvet. Anyone who stops to admire the detail of the model in detail has the urge to break one of the wheels, first starting as a fleeting thought but gradually grows to consume their thoughts causing insomnia the longer they resist the urge. The wheel is instantly repaired any time the toy goes unnoticed.

A crimson monkey skull weighing four pounds, carved entirely from blood garnet. An aura of feral sentience draws your gaze to its empty eye sockets.

A rolled scroll on which was hastily scribbled hymn, full of zeal. It says that it is only in rapturous frenzy that the spirit exhibits grace. At this moment, we are freed from doubt, acting only in accordance with the divine, immaculate will.

An ornate token from an opulent land. When held, one feels aided by forces paid for dearly. Surely, no cost is too high for triumph?

An inflamed gland that's little more than an engorged, muscular lump, radiating heat. The repellent hunk of flesh pulses with a warm, wet heat like an exhaled breath. The gland's presence consumes the senses. One's head begins to ache with a feverish intensity the longer it is held.

A scalpel with a wide blade, etched with a diagram of a human body on each side. One side features a chart of the circulatory system, and the other a layout of the muscles and tendons.

A glass disk that depict constellations.

A votive candle holder in the shape of a lighthouse.

A jawbone from a mammalian beast, a handspan in length with dozens of tiny needle-like teeth arranged like a pincushion

A surprisingly light, cobalt blue, metal cube the length of a hand. The many holes on its surface appear to resemble stars in the night sky.

A small sea chest, locked securely. The key is probably somewhere close by. Inside are a dozen glass bottles containing extremely rare and valuable spices. Unfortunately, they are so old as to be unfit for any purpose, and only identifiable by their labels.

A small, cork-stoppered crystal bottle with a disproportionately low and fat belly and slender neck containing a ruby colored liquid with an overwhelming odor of citrus. Tasting the liquid brings forth visions of standing atop a pyramid in a desert land, overlooking a sprawling city on a broad river flanked by irrigated farms.

A thumb-sized bronze horned owl. When the head is turned clockwise three full rotations, it flaps its wings and makes hooting noises as the head rotates back.

A soapstone dragon turtle paperweight with a tiny flag on its back that blows in whatever direction the wind is currently blowing in outdoors.

An unfinished, highly complex nautical knot made with a length of ship's line.

A horse-shaped bottle, made of iron, with eagles of gold and genuine lapis lazuli as inlays.

A clay piece with a drawing of a woman and baby standing next to a solider in uniform.

A pouch of small medicinal vials labelled with different names, with a handwritten note detailing dosages and urgency in delivery.

A letter addressed from an orphanage, informing the the recipient that they believe they've located their child, who was believed dead after a prolonged siege. They are asking the dead person to arrive as soon as possible, as dwindling budgets are forcing them to send their older children to work houses.

A pottery vase decorated with images of a foot race.

A glass eye with an azurite iris and obsidian pupil.

A one gallon cask of Seabeast Poison, an alcoholic beverage found mostly in coastal taverns. This mixture is almost black with a white, frothy foam on top. It's said the original recipe included venom from the poison sacs of a rare sea creature. The exact creature varies from tale to tale and the modern recipe surely doesn't include this venom.... Right?

An engraved geode that has been split apart into two equal halves. A labyrinth is carved into the rock's rough exterior and glows with a faint light.

A beautiful deck of cards resting in a strong leather pouch with an etching of a joker on the outside. The same etching is on the back of the cards.

A strange wand that is visually translucent, but when held closely, one can hear the sound of a light spring rain.

A glass figurine of a unicorn with a chalcedony horn.

A pair of pearl earrings held in eagle claw settings.

A humorous ensorcelled cartoon strip about Cernuous Cedric the slug-about-town, a languorous libertine known for his lechery, taste for strong drink, and allergy to any form of labor. The strip speaks and animates when read, telling the story of one of Cedric’s disastrous affairs with the husband of Mordiggia, the Charnel Goddess.

An amber belt buckle with knot pattern.

An ancient hieroglyphic tablet made out of some type of reflective metal that can float in water and makes a strange echoing hollow sound when struck.

A small glass bulb that gives off a bit of bluish light when touched. The light it shines counts as moonlight for the purpose of revealing things.

A cherry wood mandolin with strings of different colors. Each note played on this mandolin blends euphoniously with the notes played before it, forming a pleasing melody regardless of which strings are plucked.

A beaten copper death mask with garnet eyes.

A small statue of a great old one carved from an unknown type of greenish stone.

A copper serving pot edged and highlighted with silver depicting the labors of a famous hero.

A hardy wine bottle that is completely opaque and holds a strong, deep red, fruity alcohol.

A simple leather pouch that has several charred humanoid bones in it and a small dusting of ashes. There is no smell of smoke though, so they must be quite old.

A pure white face mask with pewter trim around its edges. It is sculpted into what could be called a bird head with an unusually short beak, also covered in pewter, but with delicate filigree.

A large blue banner decorated with a flaring yellow crest and mounted on the end of a ten foot brass pole. It is meant to be the standard used to keep the morale of the troops high as its valiantly held aloft.

A large ceramic jar covered in silver leaf.

A brass candelabra etched with filigree pattern.

A bar of rough soap made from ground pumice, and a little bit goes a long way. Light gray in color, it scrubs off trail dust, sweat, and blood with equal ease, leaving behind a clean, slightly dusty scent.

A tiny dead sparrow, wrapped delicately in giant green leaves.

A four inch long, plain, pocket pen carved from giant's tooth enamel, tipped with a gold-vanadium nib, and silver cap.

An item that appears at first glance to be no more than a simple burlap doll with no hair or clothes in the shape of humanoid. The doll's wicked grin and black sapphire eyes tell keen observers a different tale.

A heavy brass torc ending in clenched fists.

A copper door knocker of a celestial with twin amber eyes.

A tin bucket without a label, filled with what appears to be loose teeth. A closer look confirms the contents: dozens of molars, bicuspids, incisors, canines. Human teeth. Enough to fill at least five or six mouths. Resting on top of the pile is a rusted pair of iron pliers.

A swirly mahogany wand that changes to a different color every night at midnight.

Innocent Lockpicks: A set of nondescript masterwork thieves' tools coated in a matte black lacquer, that seems brittle enough to break. They are favored by spies and thieves that cannot afford to be caught with the tools of their trade. As an action equivalent to drawing a weapon, the bearer can break the brittle coating of the tools, causing them to dissolve into a puff of smoke, destroying the evidence of any wrongdoing. Because of their fragile nature these tools have a chance of breaking. If the bearer rolls a natural 1 while using the tools, there is a 25% chance that the tools snaps and dissolves in his hands. The item's properties are wholly mundane and do not register as magical.

[tsarbomba567]

Hydrophiline and Chrysopoline Cultures

Hydrophiline:

Linguistically, the Hydrophiline speak a mixture of Australian/British English and some form of Polynesian language. Since they live on archipelagos and underwater in the Endless Sea, shipbuilding is vital for commerce and transportation, which also spurred the need for great navigators (who are highly respected). The sea Serpentine are also great artists and artisans, with weapons being engraved and decorated, in addition to wearing jewelry - made of deep sea diamonds (yes they're a thing), gemstones (ex. Pearls), and minerals (ex. Gold) - and body art; they also like to wear sandals and light coloured cotton clothes. Religiously, they believe that Wojira first created the oceans and Endless Sea, then the Devourer made the earth, and the Devourer's Mate then created the sky, using his shed scales to fill it with stars; in addition, they believe that Wojira - with the Devourer's help - created the Hydrophiline, the Devourer made the mainland tribes, and the Devourer and her Mate created the Chrysopoline after bedding one another. They also believe in ghosts, with the most widespread story being a cautionary tale of a disgraced, exiled general who had their tattoos forcefully removed (via cutting them out) after it was revealed that they cheated to become the Hydrophiline general; it's said that those who suddenly feel the air around them grow cold and moist are in the spirit's presence, a warning not to cheat or be lazy. Politically, they're a unique hybrid of elective monarchy and crowned republic, called a competitive monarchy. Upon the death of their leader, a competition is held where high-ranking Hydrophiline are tested on their skills and leadership, with the one coming out on top being proclaimed monarch; still, they're only a figurehead, and decisions are left to parliament. The sea serpentine are also masters of cooking sea foods, with some saying that - when it comes to seafood - their meals are the most delectable in all of Ninjago. They're also staunch environmentalists, concerned over the impact of pollution can have on fishing among other things.

Chrysopoline :

Linguistically, the Chrysopoline speak a number of Romance (ex. Italian, French) and European Germanic languages (ex. Dutch, Norwegian, English). Due to their preference to live in the cold environment of the mountains, embracing one another is both used to keep warm and to reinforce social bonds. Like their sea counterparts, they also wear jewelry - made of gems (ex. Diamonds and Moonstone) and metals (ex. Gold and Silver) mined from the mountains - and body art, with some of their tattoos displaying the number of hours they spent flying, with those with more flying hours being more respected; they also like to wear winter clothing and overcoats made of animal furs. The flying Serpentine see flying as a means to de-stress and relax, as well as survey their surroundings. They also share the Hydrophiline's religious beliefs, as well as the belief in ghosts, with the most widespread cautionary tale being that of an arrogant, ambitious Chrysopoline and their attempt to impress their lover ending with them making a miscalculation that sent them fatally crashing into the side of a mountain. They're also masters when it comes to making chocolate, with their delectable crafts being considered one of the best when compared to other Ninjagian chocolates (think of them as the Swiss of chocolates); speaking of Swiss, they politically function just like the Swiss Confederation, a federal republic with direct democracy, although they're also a crowned republic. Like the Hydrophiline, they're also staunch environmentalists, since polluted air could poison them.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Kiro’s Treasure Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Note: A bullet-point summary, but important scenes have detailed translations!

I think @kudoriee will enjoy this :>

The birthday event basically talks about how KEY likes leaving Kiro puzzles. On one particular day, Kiro solves a pretty tough puzzle which leads him to the amusement park

At first, he thinks he solved the puzzle wrongly because he doesn’t see KEY around, but the amusement park starts blasting birthday music

KEY literally hacked into the system

He appears, and the two of them have wholesome fun

Kiro asks why KEY played birthday music

Baby Kiro doesn’t know when his birthday is...

He literally asks, “Why is it my birthday today?”

And KEY says that since Kiro had so much fun today, they might as well consider it Kiro’s birthday (T口T)

KEY: Kiro, you must definitely remember this date. I might not spend every 9 April with you, but I hope that when this day arrives each year, you will spend it next to someone you like, and who likes you.

Kiro: A person I like and who likes me... will they always be by my side?

KEY: Of course. Because Kiro is the most amazing and most adorable kid in the world.

Kiro: Mm! Oh, when little kids have birthdays, they eat cake and make wishes.

KEY: Pff, you really only know how to eat. Come, let’s go have a birthday cake. 

For his school homework, Kiro is supposed to draw his idea of a home. He draws it (further details will be in the date), but feels that something is missing

He draws a small white bunny next to his name.

Even though he has never owned a rabbit, he knows that there’s a little rabbit waiting for him in a corner of the world.

He repeats the same wish he made the day before.

“Welcome to my home,” Kiro says softly.

The actual date begins with MC in the office, with Kiki wondering what she’s doing there since she was supposed to be celebrating Kiro’s birthday

Turns out Kiro gave her a map with a set of hints to find clues, and the first stop is the office

Kiro gives her a phone call and helps her find the clue, which leads her to a department store

She retrieves a hotel card from a locker in the department store

At the hotel, she sees Savin stationed downstairs because Kiro was afraid MC wouldn’t be able to find the location

Kiro is in the hotel room preparing for a live broadcast

MC gives him his birthday gift, but he decides to wait till after the live broadcast before opening it together with her

In her hotel room next door, she finds her favourite tidbits on the table, and a set of sleeping attire (a pink rabbit pyjama set).

There’s also a note at the side which reads: “The treasure hunt has been tough on you! Miss Chips, have something to eat and have a nice bath, then rest for a while (° ▽ °*) ”

She watches the livestream in her room

The livestream has a candle-blowing segment, wish-making segment, and Kiro even sings a few songs for his fans

MC leaves a comment, asking if Kiro had any memorable birthdays in his childhood

Surprisingly, Kiro catches the comment

Kiro: When I was young, I had a very cool “boss”, who was also my guardian. He liked giving me all types of puzzles to solve.

Kiro: You’re wondering what kind of prizes I'd get after solving them? Back then, it was sweets and biscuits of course.

Kiro: However, there was one extremely difficult puzzle! I thought about it for a very long time before finding the answer in music. 

He plucks at the strings and plays a short, lively tune. 

Kiro: You should have all heard this before. It was the background music of an amusement park near my house when I was younger. This incredibly cute song was like a signal between me and my boss.

Kiro: As expected, when I ran to the amusement park, he was there waiting for me. And that day... was also my birthday. Reliving happy memories while solving puzzles is something my boss taught me.

Kiro: After spending an extremely~ happy day in the amusement park, I still remembered to finish my homework the next day!

Kiro: The homework was a drawing, and I drew the home in my heart. In my home, there’s a flower field. Within it, there are people who like me, and whom I like, all surrounding me, listening to me sing. This is what I think of as my happiest and most blessed thing. 

Seeing the screen filled with “What an interesting birthday!” “Childhood Kiro was a small genius too!”, I bite my lower lip.

I retrieve the stack of neat maps from my pocket, a tightening sensation in my chest. 

I know that what he said about puzzles and signals was meant for the person across the wall - me. 

He gave me a puzzle on his birthday. The important thing wasn’t the answer, but the key to memories. Every location on this map hides precious memories that Kiro and I shared. 

The livestream ends and she heads to Kiro’s room

Kiro: Miss Ch-

Before he finishes speaking, I have already opened my arms, lunging into his chest. 

MC: Happy birthday, Kiro!

Kiro: Didn’t you already say it once when you gave me the present just now?

MC: As long as it’s your birthday, I can say it an unlimited number of times!  

Kiro: Okay, when it comes to your birthday, I’ll say it an unlimited number of times too!

While speaking, he lifts me up in a hug and swirls me around. We fall onto the soft bed.

The fluffy feather pillows and balloons bounce lightly in response to our weight, and fall to our sides. 

Kiro: I didn’t think you’d really change into the bunny pyjamas!

 MC: Eh? Weren’t you the one who prepared it for me? 

Kiro: Of course it was! Oh right, wait for me... just a while!

HE RETURNS, WEARING A BEAR ONESIE

Kiro: Deng deng deng! The birthday party is over, now the pyjama party shall begin!

MC: Eh... how is this a pyjama party. It’s clearly a zoo party!

Kiro: If it’s a zoo, so be it. Little animals are so cute!

He sits beside me, and is about to say something when his phone rings. 

The person on the call is a silver-haired woman - a singer called Saidel Eva - who wishes him a happy birthday. Eva comments that she knows who MC is, because he mentioned that MC is his muse. While she’s stunned, Kiro holds her hand.

Kiro: Mm, she’s not only my artistic muse, but also the most important person in my life. 

MC: [blushing] I’m not... not as amazing as he says...

Right after I finish speaking, the hand on mine slowly entwines with my fingers.

The warmth emanating from his palm causes my heart to calm down.

MC: However... since he has already put it that way, I’ll work hard to become his muse. Because Kiro... is also the most important person to me. 

Eva: Ah, what a cute lady.

She lets out a light huff and turns her eyes back to Kiro, blue orbs filled with approval. 

Eva: I’m guessing your wish has already been fulfilled, am I right? 

Kiro: Yes. 

Eva: I wish the both of you happiness, and enjoyment in life. 

Kiro: Definitely, madam.

He finally opens the gift - it’s a black necklace with a black round pendant surrounded by a few gold coloured small stars. In the middle, there’s an engraved word “KIRO”

It’s a one-in-the-world necklace designed by MC

The necklace is made of siderite from a meteor, and the gold portions are made from star fragments (I’m not entirely sure about the names because I’m not familiar with minerals)

MC notes that it was only after breaking through the atmosphere that these minerals could come to earth

Just as these minerals are ‘gifts’ to the earth, Kiro is a gift to MC

After wearing it for a while, he puts it back into the box, and realises there’s something inside the necklace

 MC tells him not to open it yet, and tries snatching it away from him

She falls into his arms instead <3

So she angrily throws a pillow at him

He stuffs the necklace into his pocket and they engage in a pillow fight

SO CUTE

Kiro declares himself the winner

MC says he cannot open the watch until she's gone

Since he’s in a good mood, Kiro agrees 

They lie together on the bed to chat, exhausted from the pillow fight

MC: Come to think of it, the boss you were talking about during the livestream - was he KEY?

Kiro: Mm, he taught me a lot of things. 

MC: So the reason why you gave me the map, and let me solve the puzzles, was because you wanted to have a signal with me? 

Kiro: That’s one of the reasons, but more importantly... 

While he speaks, he slowly hooks onto my fingertips.

Kiro: Miss Chips and I don’t get to meet often because of all sorts of things, and I know that waiting is a painful process. 

He mutters his response, fastening his fingers tightly with mine, his face half-sinking into the mattress as he reveals a faint smile. 

Kiro: Which is why I don’t want you to feel bored while waiting for me. I hope each time we meet would be a step closer in our journey towards happiness.

MC: Kiro...

Kiro: Now that I think about it, KEY has really taught me a lot. Whether it’s knowledge related to hacking, or in understanding this world. 

MC: Understanding this world? 

Kiro: Mm. It’s that phrase, “you may be in darkness, but your heart is turned towards the light.”

Kiro: When I was still in chaos, these words were my direction. I believe that someday in the future, I will fulfil my dream, and do what I want to do, which includes... meeting the person I’ve been waiting a long time for.

With this, he looks at me quietly, his blue eyes hiding the bright starry sky.

Almost as if telling one not to look away.

My voice becomes incredibly soft, as though it’s floating in the universe. 

MC: You are also... the person I’ve been waiting a long time for.

Sleepiness overtakes my senses in the midst of his tender voice and gaze, but I can still remember to emphasise once more:

MC: Happy birthday, Kiro. Whether or not it’s your birthday, whether it’s today, or tomorrow, or any day in the future, you will always be incredibly happy. 

Kiro: Mm. With you around, I’ll definitely be incredibly happy.

Hearing these words, which sound like a promise, I peacefully and slowly close my eyes. 

In the haziness, I seem to feel a small feather falling on my eyelid.

It is tender and warm, as though it can breathe. 

Kiro: Goodnight. 

The kiss doesn’t disturb the girl’s light slumber. Kiro laughs lightly, and takes out the necklace from his pocket. 

Twisting the switch, the siderite cracks apart to reveal a hidden note.

The note reads - “Oh no, you’ve found the Easter egg > <”

On the other side is a link to a website. 

Thinking about the girl’s sly thoughts when designing such a gift, Kiro laughs again.

He retrieves his notebook computer from the bedside, inserts the link, and finds a downloadable voice pack.

He puts on his earphones and taps on the first voice recording.

MC: Heheh, you didn’t think this would be the second part of your birthday present right? We always have to part temporarily because of all sorts of things. In order for you not to miss me too much, I decided- dang dang! To present you with an MC alarm clock! 

MC: It’s time to wake up! If you don't get out of bed soon, Savin’s anger is going to fill to the brim~

MC: Has Kiro eaten his meals today?

MC: When you’re engrossed in work, don’t forget to protect your eyesight. One, two, three, four, the eye exercises shall begin!

MC: Before saying goodnight, remember to send me updates!

MC: Kiro, welcome home!

Every voice recording, no matter how long or short, is filled with the concern she has for him. 

Hearing the girl’s voice in his hear, Kiro’s lips curl upwards. 

Both of them always think of their own ways to fill in the blank spaces of time, painting them in colours belonging to each other. 

Kiro: Miss Chips...

Kiro leans down to stare at her sleeping face. He speaks in a way that only the two of them can hear clearly.

Kiro: The picture I mentioned in the livestream... I hid a small secret in it that only I know of. I want to share it with you. I drew a small rabbit. She’s my favourite, favourite new friend.

Kiro: Miss Chips, welcome to my home.  

—

Phone call: here

Video call: here

[delaneytveit]

Like the Ocean

its Lance’s birthday!! Here’s a little fic I literally thought of while trying to sleep last night! I hope you guys like it! 

“So these things-” 

“Relics, Lance.” Pidge corrected him again. 

“Yeah, those. What exactly makes them so important? And why do we have to get them now?” 

Allura sighed, obviously annoyed at Lance’s reluctance to join the mission. Why couldn’t he just do as he’s told for once? 

“You were the one that felt so insecure about your place on the team.” She didn’t mean for it come out as harshly as it did, and it caused her to wince though she knew she had to continue. “To obtain these relics, each of you must undergo the Trials of the Paladins. If you succeed, you return with the relic. If you don't...” 

“We don’t return, do we?” Of everyone on the team, it was clear that Lance was to one who most wanted to return home, and it broke her heart to think that she was the one keeping him from that. But she also knew that he had to be strong. Only the strongest may be a paladin, and if a little homesickness was going to keep Lance from being the Blue Paladin, then he shouldn’t have been chosen in the first place. 

Her silence seemed to answer his question, as he didn’t push anymore. 

“I have the utmost confidence that you will all return.” She spoke finally, and though shaken, Lance sat up straight and attentive. He could do this, she thought. 

The next varga was spent in preparation, briefing each of the paladins on where they would be landing to reach their respective trial. She could not give them their actual task, for she didn’t know. It was part of the Trials that only the Paladin participating would be aware of their task. Soon the Paladins were on their way to their respective planets. 

+

To say that Lance was concerned was well, and understatement. He knew the importance of this mission, despite what Pidge and Keith may say, he did take it seriously. But he couldn’t get the idea out of his head that he may not even be the true Blue Paladin. 

He had spent many late nights wondering why Blue had chosen him, wondering why him, out of everyone else, and wondering if he really was just a temp until someone more worthy came around. 

After all, he was only a cargo pilot. 

Despite Blue’s constant reassurances flooding his mind, that he could in fact do this, he wasn’t completely convinced. There was however one thing he knew for certain, he would give his life for his team. He would complete this mission for them. 

The planet he landed on was definitely not what he expected. A lush green planet with rivers and springs that created the most intricate pattern in the ground. It was beautiful. 

He followed the tracker to a clearing on the planet, just past a grove of what looked like orange trees, if it wasn’t for the weird pastel blue of the fruits. In the middle of the clearing sat the only evidence of non flora inhabitants. A large stone building surrounded by a courtyard of mosaic - like marble. It was beautiful really. 

He circled around it and landed Blue just on the outskirts of the clearing. 

“Okay Lance, you got this.” He took a finally steadying breath before standing up from his pilot chair and made his way out of the cockpit and out of Blue. 

The first thing he noticed when he stepped foot on the planet, was the florally scent in the barely their breeze. It smelled of roses and jasmine and honey. He took his time enjoying the scents as he made his way to the building, that as he approached he realized looked more like a temple. 

An alien, with long dark purple hair and bright pink skin met Lance at the steps to the temple. Any other situation, Lance wouldn’t have hesitated a pick up line, or even a suggestive joke towards the being, they were honestly breath taking. Contrary to popular belief, he knew quite well that there was a time and place for such a thing, and this was neither the time, nor place. 

“Blue Paladin, Welcome. We have been expecting you for many Deca-Phobes.” They spoke, their voice soft but he could tell there was a haste to it. “Follow me.” 

He did, he followed the guide deep into the temple before stopping in front of a large stone door. 

He watched as the guide knocked twice on the door before a voice called out from the other side for them to enter. 

When he entered, he was immediately surrounded by a group of aliens that looked almost identical to his guide. He was so caught up in the surprise that he hadn’t had time to fully comprehend that they were stripping him of his armor until he was left in nothing but his underarmor. 

“Wha-” 

“You have no need for that here.” the voice came from behind him, he turned to see a figure dressed in the brightest colours, hair a silver grey, and skin a dark blue. Save for those variations, he could tell that this one was of the same species as the others. “This is a place of peace and reflection, Blue Paladin, Guardian of the Water.” 

He let them lead him to another room, perfumed with incense that reminded him of the jasmine he had smelled outside. He let them undress him before entering the steaming bath that stood before him. He let them dress him in their silks as this was not the place for armor, he must be at his most comfortable for the trials. 

Despite how easy it was to do all of this, how much he enjoyed the pampering and relaxation, he knew that the trials would never be this easy. He was right when the original guide handed him a cup of tea. They had led him into yet another room, this one empty except for a stone slab in the middle of the room.  

“Your trial to to enter Krywon and fill this vial with the water of the Alkori, the most sacred river.” 

“Seems simple enough.” He did as instructed and sat on the slab of stone, a plush blue pillow at the head of it. 

“It would be dangerous to think so. Krywon is in your language, The Land of the Dead. only the dead may enter.” 

Lance felt all the air release from his lungs, so this was it then. He looked towards the tea that was being placed in his hand. 

“So this then, it will...” 

“Kill you? Yes, it will be quick and painless. Almost like falling asleep. However, the properties will only have their desired effect if you drink willingly. If say one were to force it onto you, you would be stripped of any chance of returning to the land of the living.” 

Lance nodded before looking back up at the guide. “And how exactly do I return?” 

The guide gave him a small smile before placing a chaste kiss on his forehead. 

“That you must find for yourself Blue Paladin.” 

They stood back and looked at him expectantly. 

Lance stared at the light Carmel color of the liquid, at the steam coming from it. I can do this. And so, like in the cockpit of the Blue Lion, he took a final steadying breath. Before he could hesitate he emptied the cup into his mouth, and swallowed. The bitter taste of the liquid overpowered the burning sensation on his tongue. 

“See you on the other side.” he gave the guide a small smile, which they returned as they helped guide his already lethargic body down to a laying position. 

His eyes were getting heavy and his breathing slower, he was sure that in any other situation he would have begun panicking, but here he would not. He could not. And so with a smile on his face, he looked to the skylight and let the rays of this foreign sun wash over him. 

“You will do great things, Blue Paladin.” 

The sound of the guide’s encouragement was the last that he heard before he finally closed his eyes. 

+ 

As with everything, Lance was the last to return. The others having already eaten dinner by the time he finally made his way into the Blue Lion’s Hangar. 

“Lance!” Pidge yelled barreling straight for him the second his feet touched the floor of the hangar. “Where were you?” 

Lance laughed hugging her back, Hunk making his way over to the two with tears in his eyes. “We thought something happened to you.” 

Shiro suggested that they move to the lounge so everyone could relax and hear of Lance’s trial. 

Lance listened as the others told their stories first, a bowl of food goo in hand that he shoveled into his mouth. 

He heard of Keith, who was forced to climb to the tallest point on an actively exploding volcano. His quest to retrieve a singular rock, still hot from the magma but cold to the touch, the markings of the Red Paladin engraved by the lava. 

He listened as Hunk told his story of his journey into the deepest cave on his planet to relieve a crystal. He joined in the laughter at Hunk’s description of his fight with the giant insects that inhabited the cave. 

Pidge spoke of her trip through a dense rainforest to retrieve the rarest flower that existed on that planet. Apparently only one blooms every 20 deca-phobes. 

Shiro’s was the scariest tale. The thought of having to travel to the highest peak on a planet and attempt to catch lightning in a bottle shook Lance to his core. 

“So what about you, Lance?” Hunk was all too excited to hear about his friend’s trial. 

Lance sat for a moment, deciding where he should start the story. The beginning is as good of a place as ever. 

“Wait wait wait... you mean to tell me that while the rest of us were hauling ass through dangerous territory, you were getting...pampered?” Pidge was beyond belief, no wonder this guy took so long, he probably took a damn nap and forgot he had places to be. 

Lance chuckled at that. “Yeah I guess, my trial was to retrieve this.” He held up the small vial of the swirling liquid. It still looked the way it did in the river, pastel blue and sparkling with minerals. 

He let the team gape at the liquid, it was beautiful. It took a bit for even Allura to calm down.

“No, but really Lance, how did you get it?” Shiro knew there had to be more to the story than Lance just sitting on his ass. 

“He probably just walked outside, you heard him, there were rivers all over the place.” Keith scoffed, getting over his initial amazement. 

“The water inside, it's from this specific river. I guess it's like their most sacred of whatever.” Lance sighed, there was no way to truly convey the importance of the water without showing them the source. An action he refused to even debate. “Its called the Alkori.” 

“Did you have to go through a dangerous forest?” Pidge asked.

“Or a cave?” Hunk piped up.

Lance laughs, but there’s an unease that can’t be hidden. 

“No, the Alkori...it doesn’t exist in this...world.” 

“What do you mean in this world? Where is it? Did you go to another alternate reality?” Pidge was practically bouncing up and down in her seat as she rambled. She only stopped when she realized the length of silence that came from her friend. 

“Lance?” 

Lance looked up from his hunched shoulders, wiping the tears that threatened to run from his eyes. 

“Lance, where was it?” Shiro placed a comforting hand on Lance’s shoulder, clearly something was bothering him to make him act such a way. And Shiro was way past concerned. 

“...the afterlife.” 

Keith laughed at that, a hearty chuckle before realizing that he was the only one. “The afterlife? Really? And what, you just walked right in there?” he spoke, quick to compose himself. 

He watched as Lance shook his head, “No living being is allowed to cross into Krywon. The land belongs solely to the dead, only the dead may enter.” 

“...so how did you get there? Or did you get a ghost to do your bidding?” Hunk half joked. He didn’t like where this was going. His friend, his very much alive friend was sitting right next to him. Clearly he had something up his sleeve to get the vial. Clearly he couldn’t enter, he was alive. 

“Only the dead may enter.” Lance spoke softly, almost a whisper. “So I had to become one of them.” 

The room was quiet, no one believing what they were hearing. Even the mice had stopped their squeaking, looks of concern pointed towards the Blue Paladin. 

“They gave me this tea,” he continued, “God, it tasted horrible, like microwaved pedialite. But it was effective.” 

The silence was deafening, it reminded him all too much of his time spent among the dead. If the quiet scared him before, now...it was terrifying. 

“20 minutes.” he stopped, taking a shaky breath. “You could say that I was legally gone for 20 minutes. But God, it felt like hours, days even. I wasn’t sure if there would even be anything left for me to return to if I did come back.” 

“...you...you died?” Hunk stared at his best friend through blurry eyes. The man he’s known since they were seven. The kid that even despite his bad days always seemed so alive. 

Lance nods, taking another shaky breath. He refused to lift his head again, refused to let them know that he almost gave up, that he couldn’t even last 20 minutes being dead, when others spent eternity. 

He was alive, now. 

He was here, now. 

He did not let his team down. 

“It was the only way.” 

He kept his eyes on the bottle held in his hands, the swirling hues of blue and grey that he had literally given his life for. 

“When I was there, I met this woman, I guess you could say we kind of have like a cult following now.” He waited for the tell tale laughs or eye rolls from his friends, but received nothing, all of them much too focused to the fact that their friend had entered a world the only way he could. “She made me realize what it actually means to be the Blue Paladin. Why blue chose me in the first place.” He let his voice taper off as he remembered her. The sad girl who saved his life though he couldn’t save hers. 

“That’s right!” Pidge all but yelled, startling the entire room. “We never got to hear about what qualities the Blue Paladin has, because Lance-” 

“couldn’t keep his mouth shut? Yeah. I know it now. At first I thought she was fucking with me, but the more I thought about it, about you guys. It actually made sense.” 

“Blue Paladin, Guardian of water, flexible in both mind and body, adaptable-” 

“calm like the streams, playful like the tides, yet relentless like the waves. With a loyalty that knows no bounds,” Allura rose to her feet and took the few step towards Lance before kneeling in front of him, her hand pushing his face up gently so sea blue eyes met galaxy magenta ones. “This paladin brings balance, and steadiness to Voltron.” 

Lance reciprocated her smile, before bringing his hand up to meet hers and puling it away from his face. He placed the small vial in her hand, “You missed one.” 

Confusion filled her as she tilted her head, “No I don’t think I did, those are-” 

“With a protectiveness that will be the death of him.” Lance spoke carefully. 

Lance was surprised when Allura reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, Hunk and Shiro were quick to follow, and soon, everyone was surrounding Lance in a tight embrace. He almost couldn’t hear Coran over the layers of bodies circling him.

“Protect as you may, Lance, but stay alive. That would be enough for all of us.” 

[chaoticbluebirdconnoisseur]

Five Mineral Drug

Five mineral powder (or wushi), also known as cold food powder (or hanshi), was one of the most widely used drugs in medieval China.  I have read the paper Lebensstil und Drogen im chinesischen Mittelalter by Rudolf G. Wagner and thought that those who can’t speak German might want to know more about it as well. In this, I will explain how it was found and popularized, the people who took this, symptoms, side effects, etc.

So I picked out a few texts and translated the translations from German to English. Keep in mind that the translation had gone from being originally written in Middle Chinese to being translated to German by Wagner, and then being translated by me in English. This is not an official translation, and I don’t want it to be treated as such. I tried finding alternative translations but in the end, I had to resort to translating most of it myself. My translations (which are Wagners translations) are marked with a ・ .

And also for those not bright enough: DO NOT RECREATE THIS TRASH! DO NOT ATTEMPT TO CONSUME IT! Jesus

Five Mineral Drug Before He Yan

There is not much known about the History before He Yan’s lifetime, but we have the following statement by Qin Zhengzu in his work Hanshi san lun ・ :

Although the recipe for the cold food powder originates in the Han Dynasty, there were not many who used it. But when the shangshu (He Yan) achieved godly mental abilities (because of the drug), it spread immensely throughout the era.

In Chao Yuanfang’s work Chaoshi Zhubing Yuanhuo [1] which citates Huangfu Mi ・ :

Where the drug came from is not known. Some say Hua Tuo invented it, others say it was Zhang Ji. If one examines the truthfulness on these accounts, it was plausible for Hua Tuo’s talent to invent simple recipes (which does not apply to the five mineral powder). In a text written by Zhang Ji, there is a recipe called Houshi Hei (Black Powder by Sir Hou) and a Zushi Ying recipe, both of those, have a similar composition like the Five Mineral Powder, and the codes of conduct (for the ingestion) are more or less the same. According to those two recipes, the plant-based and the mineral-based, I deduce the origins stem from Zhang Ji and not Hua Tuo.

Remarkable is that Huangfu Mi had to speculate even though He Yan was dead for only 30 years. Rudolf G. Wagner comments that Huangfu’s explanation could ring true because Zhang Ji was known as a doctor specialized in Shanghan diseases (cold diseases). Summarized we know that the drug was probably invented in the Han Dynasty and that it was meant to be used as medicine.

He Yan and the Popularization of The Five Mineral Drug

He Yan (d. 249) was the grandson of He Jin and grandnephew of Empress Dowager He. His mother Lady Yin, who was formerly the wife of He Xian, became the concubine of Cao Cao. Although he was closely affiliated with the imperial clan (through his mother and his wife Princess Jinxiang), he was largely unrecognized by them, Wendi of Wei even calling him a ‘false son'. He stayed out of government until Mingdi of Wei’s death. He Yan cultivated a circle of friends of scholarly interests, on which he exerted influence. His contemporaries include Wang Bi, Xiahou Xuan, Deng Yang, Li Sheng, and Zhuge Dan.

At the regency of Cao Shuang, he and his circle would take great influence in the years from 240 to 249, which was known as the Zhengshi era. He and Wang Bi (226-249)achieved great scholarly achievements in Neo-Daoism, also known as Xuanxue. The cultural, scholarly, and scientific advancements were unparalleled and imitated in later years. But the regime by Cao Shuang and his co-regent Sima Yi (179-251) would prove to be highly unstable. Cao Shuang and his circle came to represent the new elites with Xuanxue as their philosophy, and Sima Yi represented the orthodox Confucian landholders, who would feel threatened by He Yan and his friends who represented in many the new powerholders. Internal strifes in Cao’s faction and Sima Yi’s short retreat from the court would result in a coup d'état against Cao. Cao Shuang, He Yan, his supporters, and their families were all executed.

For a more thorough analysis on He Yan, I highly recommend DaolunofShiji’s A Case For He Yan.

He Yan was described in the He Yan Biezhuan:” His figure and face were of outstanding beauty; when he went outside, for a walk, onlookers would fill the streets; many said he was a genius”. Further, the Weilüe states: “...in all activities white cosmetic powder did not leave his hands, when walking he looked back at his shadow.” As a dandy, outstanding debater, and philosopher, he would dictate the beauty and philosophical trends, of not only his day but for the next centuries. For example, the former standards of attractiveness were in the Late Han Dynasty a warriorlike appearance with great strength to accompany it. Because of He Yan, the standards changed to a more docile and graceful appearance.

As a trendsetter, with no doubt many admirers, he introduced the drug in the Wei elite with his description of the drug cited in the Shishuo Xinyu: “Whenever I take five-mineral powder, not only does it heal any illness I might have, but I am also aware of my spirit and intelligence becoming receptive and lucid.” It’s popularity rose in the Wei-Jin elite as following anecdotes describe:

Chao Yuanfang’s work which cites Huangfu Mi in Chaoshi Zhubing Yuanhuo・ :

In youngest times, the shangshu He Yan devoted himself to music and appreciated sex, when he took the drug for the first time, his consciousness gained more clarity and his physical strength increased. In the capital (of Wei), everyone passed the drug around... After the death of He Yan, those who took the drug multiplied, and it didn’t slow down with time.

The drug not only aids ‘spirit and intelligence’ but also increases the enjoyment of music and sex.

Cao Shuang’s biography in the Sanguozhi [2]:

Shuǎng’s drink and food and chariots and clothing, imitated the Imperial carriage; craftsmen treasures and toys, filled up his house; wives and concubines filled his Rear Courtyard, and he also secretly took the Former Emperor’s Talent concubines of seven to eight women, and his offices and officials, teachers and workers, drums and horns, elite family’s sons and daughters of thirty-three people, all became his performers and musicians. He forged Imperial Order documents, sending out Talent concubines of fifty seven women to Yè terrace, and having the Former Emperor’s Fair concubines teach and practice performance. He usurped the Grand Musician’s musical instruments, and the Military Store’s prohibited weapons. He made cavern residences, fine engraving all around, repeatedly with [Hé] Yàn and the rest meeting inside, drinking liquor and making merry. 

Rudolf G. Wagner analysis that this scene is also in correlation to the five mineral powder, mainly being in a ‘cavern residence’ which helps with the side effects of the powder (I will explain the side effects later on). Also, the ‘Talented Concubines’ (who are Mingdi’s concubines), the excessive wine drinking, and the musical instruments indicate that the circumstance has been applied to fit the positives of using the drug and to alleviate the side effects.

Of course, this lifestyle would take a toll on He Yan’s health, as the powder that could ‘heal any illness’ betrayed him. As Guan Lu observed, not only He Yan but also his colleague Deng Yang were greatly weakened. The anecdote is in the Guan Lu biezhuan which you can find in his Sanguozhi biography[3]:

Deng Yang's gait is that of one whose sinews are loosed from his bones, and his pulse is unsteady. When he would stand, he totters as a man without limbs. This is the aspect of a disembodied soul. He Yan looks as if his soul was about to quit its habitation. He is bloodless, and what should be solid in him is mere vapor. He looks like rotten wood. This is the aspect of a soul even now in the dark valley.

Also the He Yan Biezhuan further states:” He had such a weakened constitution, that he couldn’t wear heavy silk anymore.” It is plausible that it is attributed to the drugs, the heavy silk could either produce more heat than he could handle, or it could apply pressure to the ulcers, you get from this drug, (but then again we will talk about the side effects later). Hao Yicheng (1757-1825) commented that if Sima Yi didn’t killed him, that he would have passed away anyway, because of the consequences of his drug use.

He Yan’s Legacy in Relation to the Drug

He Yan was the most important person concerning the rise of the drug in Wei-Jin circles. He was blamed for the moral decay of the elite, and over the centuries, criticized regularly for it. The following memorials bear witness to it:

Pei Wei’s (267-300) (whose father Pei Xiu passed away because of the drug, we will get to that later) memorial, which can be found in the Jinshu 35, criticizes Wang Yan and others for their admiration and imitating the actions of He Yan and Ruan Ji. It is explicitly mentioned that their rolemodels like themselves ran around naked, being unable to follow the rites.

Fan Ning, in the reign of Emperor Jianwen (reg. 371-373), presented in a memorial, which you can find in the Jinshu 75, in which he criticized He Yan and Wang Bi ‘That the faults of He Yan and Wang Bi are greater than Jie’s and Zhou’s faults’. Those two ‘terrible last rulers’ were considered evil, but only corrupted their own generation. He Yan and Wang Bi, on the other hand, exceeded the faults of ‘barbarians’ because their negative influence in all areas, corrupted the elite, the execution of He Yan and the establishment of a new dynasty affecting nothing to the problem. He is also implying that because the Jin elite followed He Yan’s and Wang Bi’s teachings, they couldn’t defend the north from the ‘barbarians’.

Sun Simiao (581-682) wrote in his treatise ‘Declaration of the Toxicity of the Five Mineral Powder’ which is in the Qian Jin Yao Fang ・ :

The revival medicine cold food powder or five mineral powder, according to old reports, were not known to recipe specialists, but (its use) began with the Marquis He after the end of the Han.

Since Huangfu Mi among those, who were tricked by this temptation, there were none, whose back didn’t inflame, whose bones didn’t disintegrate and who didn’t subject themselves to destruction. Since I can remember, it hasn’t struck only one from those who I knew, who came from the capital.

Su Shi (1036-1101) wrote in his memorial ‘The Memorial of Shangyang’ Lun Shangyang the following ・ :

It began with He Yan, that the people took stalactites and wushi (different word for fuzi: aconite), and gave themselves uncontrolled to wine and sex, to prolong their life. (He) Yan was in his youth rich and honored, how should one be surprised, that he took the cold food powder, to satisfy his desires? What he caused with that (that the powder spread), was enough to kill people and to destroy families. Every single day. How awful it is to die from the cold food powder - But what can I alone do? Those who take the cold food powder and whose backs are decaying (are so numerous), that they step on each other's feet!

Yu Zhengxie (1775–1840) wrote in his work Guisi Cungao the following, comparing the five mineral powder to opium ・ :

The nobles and dignitaries haven’t asked themselves if they have an illness or not, but it became fashionable with He Yan to take this drug without reason. The people of Wei and Jin took this drug and were not able to come back to their senses until the end of their lives...

The powder of Wei and Jin and the ‘pill’ of Tang and Song are the worst and are comparable with today’s opium. Under the Jin, Tang, and Song the governments, however, haven’t banned (these drugs), whereas today opium is banned; That’s how one can see that only the present government is handling the problem correctly.

The Recipe

First, we examine He Yan’s Five Mineral Powder Recipe, referenced in Sun Simiao’s (581-682) work Qian Jin Yi Fang, where mentioned in a note that if two components (sulfur and red clay containing silicon) are removed from the Wushi Gengsheng San recipe, you are left with Sanshi Gengsheng, Marquis He’s original recipe. The ingredients are listed here:

Zhongru (stalactite) 2.5 liang

Baishi Ying (milky quartz) 2.5 liang

Haige (oyster shell) 2.5 liang

Zishiying (amethyst) 2.5 liang

Fangfeng (Siler divaricum) 2.5 liang

Gualou (Trichosanthes kirilowii) 2.5 liang

Ganjiang (Zingiber officinale) 1.5 liang

Baishu (Atractylis ovata) 1.5 liang

Jiegeng (Platycodon grandiflorum) 5 fen

Xixin (Asarum Sieboldi) 5 fen

Renshen (Panax ginseng) 3 fen

Fuzi (Aconitum L.) cooked, with the removed shell 3 fen

Guixin (cinnamon tree bark from a smaller branch)

And very important is expensive wine.

As Wagner points out, his list of ingredients isn’t exact, because of the many variables the identification of those ingredients has (pharmacological variables, terms describing the ingredients, the provenance of the plants, etc.). But we can establish the most important ingredients: stalactite, aconite, and herbs such as ginger, ginseng, etc..

In Xi Kang’s (223-262) biography in the Jinshu 49, we see that stalactite could be consumed on its own ・ :

Xi Kang also met with Wang Lie, and together they went to the mountains. Lie found a stone, with the form resembling a sugar hat. Lie took half of the stone and gave the other half to Xi Kang. Both froze and turned to stone.

Donald Holzman, in his book La vie et la pensée de Hi K’ang identifies the ‘stone resembling a sugar hat’[4] as a stalactite, which is in He Yan’s recipe.

Little side note ‘turned to stone’ is indeed comparable with the slang ‘getting stoned’.

Pharmacological Effects

Before we turn to the preparation of the drug, I’d like to point out the fact that we only vaguely know what components lead to the psychoactive effect. Wagner wrote in his paper that he tried to have people knowledgeable in these regards, research with him, but it didn’t work out. If you want to learn more in this regard, I can’t help you.

Preparation of the Drug and Codes of Conduct

According to Huangfu Mi the minerals have to be prepared (I assume grinding it into a powder) and then they have to rest for 30 days. The plants are prepared on the day of ingestion.

The following texts are in Chao Yuanfang’s work Chaoshi Zhubing Yuanhuo and in Sun Simiao’s work Qian Jin Yi Fang ・ :

Those who take the Hanshi powder, take the amount of 2 liang, this amount is divided into three pastes.

At sunrise, he takes with hot, excellent wine the first paste. When the sun has moved one chang (meaning two hours), in turn, he takes the other paste. When the sun has moved a second chang, he takes the last paste, having used up everything.

After a while, he should wash his hands and feet with cold water. When the energy of the drug is working, one will feel numb. Thereupon he undresses and bathes in cold water. When the power of the drug gets stronger and the body is cooled, the mind opens to clarity, and one recovers from the hardships, even for those who lie weakened and suffering in their bed, it will improve before the day ends.

There are people of weak or strong constitution, and there is different tolerability of the drug for many. If the person using the drug is emaciated and weak, he can eat a little before taking the drug. But when the person is strong, he doesn’t need to eat...

One always has to dress cold, drink cold, eat cold, and sleep cold. The colder the better. If the drug didn’t had an effect yet, one shouldn’t bathe cold yet; if one bathes in this situation, it will result in a painful cold, blocking the drug’s effect, leaving the person shivering. Rather (if the drug is blocked) one should drink warm wine, jump, dance, and rub themselves, to achieve the effect, if one starts to get warm, then they should bathe. If the (situation where the drug hasn’t reached the effect) has been dealt with, one should stop and not overdo (the cooling). Also one should eat cold multiple times (a day), not only in the morning and evening. If one refrains from eating and getting so hungry, then it’s causing the person, to get cold, and only if he eats he will warm up.

The ingredients suggest a high content of calcium, explaining the feverish symptoms. For those symptoms of heat, it was also common to just remove the clothes and go around naked.

Further we are informed that 2 liang isn’t an universal dosage, about that Huangfu Mi writes, which is cited in Chao Yuanfang’s work Chaoshi Zhubing Yuanhuo ・   :

As far as seniors and children are concerned, who can’t tolerate (the normal amount, 2 liang) - here you can set the dosage under 2 liang. When the person is robust, you can set the dosage above two liang... Even though this medicine is excellent and can double the strength and spirit, it is indeed difficult to correctly dosage it.

Cao Xi (Yes from the imperial family) wrote also an explanation on the correct codes of conduct, which could criticize Huangfu’s suggestions which is quoted in Tamba Yasuyori’s work Ishimpo [5] ・ :

In general, one has to, when someone is taking the cold food drug, when it becomes too strong, consistently (focus on the condition) of the one taking the drug, and administer (fitting) healing recipes.

The body and liquids of the human flesh are (for different people) differing like earth and wind (as they are different in other places)Although it is said (by Huangfu Mi?), that one should drink wine, there are people who can do that, and those who cannot.

Although it is said (by Huangfu Mi?), one always has to stay cool, there are bodies of people, there are ones who can bear the cold, and those who can’t.

Although it is said (by Huangfu Mi?), one should eat and drink a lot, there are for food and drink different amounts (of digestibility).

Although it is said (by Huangfu Mi?), one should always exercise, there are different stabilities of the bone, ones who are strong and ones who are weak.

Because the people are thick and thin, old and young, have in their bodies illnesses or not, those who have much warmth and those who have much coldness, one cannot treat (the side effects) them with the same method.

A strong rise of the drug has many aspects and produces hundreds of illnesses.

As those symptoms can be useful in identifying anecdotes where someone is ‘under the influence’, as we turn to the next section.

The Stoned Nobles

Yes, Huangfu Mi called them “The Nobles turned to Stone”.

As it is mentioned the drug spread in He Yan’s lifetime and long after that. In the Guan Lu biezhuan there is instance recorded where Pei Hui asked his subordinate Zhao Kongyao why he isn’t looking well, Zhao replied ・ :”I have the misfortune, that no drug-minerals are remaining in my body.”

As Qin Zhengzu writes in his work Hanshi san lun ・:”Those who took (the powder), searched each others company.” The nobles of that time met in ‘drugparties’ which were most of the time called ‘wineparties’. The language describing those gatherings resembled those of wineparties. For example it is mentioned in the Jinshu 35 that Shi Chong (249-300) once wanted to sue Sun Lishu for not having acted according to the rites at his wineparty, but Pei Kai admonished Shi Chong by saying ・ :”You gave someone a wild drug and expect correct ritual behavior - isn’t that wrong?”

Then we of course have the parties by Cao Shuang, being prime examples of drug use. Of course the one mentioned in the Sanguozhi but also the one mentioned in Zhong Hui’s biography for his mother ・ :

At this time the Great General Cao Shuang alone held the goverment; he gave himself daily to wine until he became heavily drunk. The elder brother of Hui, the shizhong (Zhong) Yu told what happened on these parties. My mother (Zhong Hui’s mother) said:’ When they are having their fun, they are just having their fun, but it won’t last long. When those of high rank, aren’t arrogant and follow the rules and regulations, then they aren’t getting themselves in trouble. If they overdo it, a tragedy will happen. (Those who are in the government) have an excessive wastefulness. This is not the way to keep wealth and high positions’.

The seven sages of the bamboo grove were also known to be fond of the drug. We know of course that Xi Kang took stalactites, the other members showed also similar symptoms described in the following texts:

Wang Yin’s Jinshu biography cited in the Shishuo Xinyu ・ :

At the end of Wei, Ruan Ji drank heavily, neglecting himself completely, showed his hair in an unkempt state in public, and sat naked with sprawled out legs.

Liu Ling’s love for wine is well recorded, but we see him naked here as well, indicating of course this is a incident of drug use, it’s cited in the Shishuo Xinyu [6] :

Liu Ling was an inveterate drinker and indulged himself to the full. Sometimes he stripped of his clothes and sat in his room naked. Some men saw him and rebuked him. Liu Ling said, “Heaven and earth are my dwelling, and my house is my trousers. Why are you all coming into my trousers?”

Not only in the nobility was the drug popular, but emperors also took this. Emperor Huidi of Jin once had a party with youths of the nobility, it’s cited in the Jinshu 27 ・ :

Huidi hosted in the Yuankang era (291-299) a wine party with the high ranking and entertainment seeking youths (of the elite), they let their hair down and undressed in front of the slaves serving as concubines. Those who wouldn’t participate in it fell from grace, those who rejected it were criticized. Only a few nobles wouldn’t participate in it because of embarrassment, and they were presented as they would lack reverence (towards their ruler).

Interesting to see that not only the use of the drug only had a small opposition, but those who refused to participate in those drug parties were put under pressure. It was not only Huidi of Jin who used the five mineral powder but also emperor Tuoba Gui who personally beat those to death who argued against his drug use and displayed their corpses in the ‘hall of heavenly peace’.

After the fall of Western Jin the nobles took their drug culture with them south, as it is described in an anecdote with ‘The Eight Da’ which is cited in the Jinshu 49 [7]:

Humu Fuzhi, Xie Kun, Ruan Fang, Bi Zhuo, Yang Man, Huan Yi and Ruan Fu were sitting together naked and with disheveled hair in a closed room; they had already been drinking for several days. (Guang) Yi (Humu Fuzhi’s protege whom they had not seen for years, arrived and) was about to push the door open and to enter, but the guardian did not allow him (to come in). He thereupon stripped himself outside the door, put off his hat, (crept) into the dog-hole and looked at them, shouting loudly. (Humu) Fuzhi was startled and said:’Other people definitely cannot do so. That must be our Mengzi (i.e. Guang Yi)’. He immediately called him in, and together with him they (went on) drinking day and night, without stopping. Their contemporaries called them ‘the Eight da’.

The Five Mineral Drug and Women

Wagner comments on the question if women took the drug as well, that they were only sexual objects or musicians. They were not members of the circle who took them for psychoactive purposes.

But that doesn’t mean they didn’t consume it. Certainly, they didn’t participate in parties like the scholar gentry, but they used it like most as medicine. In Chao Yuanfang’s work Chaoshi Zhubing Yuanhuo [8] it says:

When a pregnant woman catches cold and suffers from serious pain in her body, and she cannot be moved because of her condition, taking a dose of Cold Food Powder in warm wine and having a cold bath can do her good. After this, if she feels numbness somewhere on her body, the area should be washed with cold water, if she feels cold, drink some doses of wine...

Considering the fact that He Yan ignored the drug’s intended purposes, it is probable that not all women of that time weren’t so strict on using it purely as medicine either.

Also worth mentioning is that women took other substances like cinnabar, in the tomb of Wang Danhu 200 pills were found, which contained cinnabar. Cinnabar was mainly used in alchemy to either achieve immortality, or immortality of the corpse (to preserve it). But in the Tang dynasty, it replaced the five mineral powder, for it was also psychoactive.[9]

Five Mineral Drug and the Common People

To clarify, the five mineral powder was a luxury commodity. The powder itself wasn’t cheap and you had to mix it with expensive wine. There were no people who could profit from peasants getting addicted, there was no point in getting someone addicted to a substance he couldn’t even in the slightest afford. The five mineral powder was in every aspect a status symbol.

And because it was a status symbol people who couldn’t afford the powder would feign to suffer from the side effects of the powder. An anecdote from the Taiping Guangji 247 states ・ :

In the Northern Wei under Xiaowendi (reg. 471-500) the princes and high dignitaries, in high numbers, took the mineral drug, they were called the Shifa, for those ‘where the mineral drug is coming up strongly’. However, there were also people, who had a fever but were not rich and high standing, but also claimed they took minerals and that the fever derived from that. Contemporaries frequently suspected that those people imitated the looks from the rich and high standing.

There was once a man who lied down in front of the gates of the market and with all seriousness assured, that he had a fever so that the people congregated around him to take a look at him. When his companion wondered (about his simulation), he told him:’The drugs are coming up strongly (I am a Shifa).’ His companion asked:’When did the high lord take the minerals?’ The man replied:’Yesterday evening I bought rice, in it I found a mineral; That one I ate and now it is coming up too strongly.’ Everyone started laughing (because the effect of the powder starts immediately, exposing himself). Since then there were only a few, who pretended to suffer from the drug.

Effects of the Five Mineral Powder

As mentioned five mineral powder was originally used as a medicine, but through He Yan, it was used as a lifestyle drug. It was recommended to be used for everyone, literally everyone. Embryos, children, adults, seniors, healthy people, sick people, weak people, and strong people. And it seems that it was not just recommended in treating every disease you might have, but also to achieve godly abilities, good looks, a lucid mind, strength and of course using it per se was a sign of extreme wealth.

Shi Huiyi (372-444) wrote, which is cited in the Ishimpo by Tamba Yasuyori ・:

The five mineral powder is among the supreme drugs. One can excellently prolong their life, nourish life, and bring harmony to one's intellect. How could (one say) that the drug can only heal illnesses?

Cao Xi wrote, which is cited in Qin Zhengzu’s work Hanshi san lun ・ :

Those who are in today’s high rank, see the basic recipe of the drug and are calling out:’This is the divine powder, with which you can hold on to your life.’ And then comes the day, where they are taking it, undress, stand in the wind and pour cold water over them.

Side Effects of the Five Mineral Powder

Wudi sent an urgent message, in which he demanded that Huangfu Mi accepts a government post. Mi answered with a submittal, referring to himself as ‘the hidden one in the grass’: ‘Since I am weakened and emaciated, I am unclear about the direction of the way. Because of my illness, I removed my hairpins, my hair is (dense) like a forest... My humble self has nothing excellent about me, I cause catastrophe’s and seek my ruin, in fear of my serious illness. Half of my body is already numb, and my right leg couldn’t support myself for 19 years. I also take the cold food powder drug and missed and confused the codes of conduct; my pain (caused by this), my suffering, my bitterness, and my sorrows last for seven years. Even in the coldest weather, I undress and eat ice, and when summer comes, it is unbearably warm, and I am shaken by the coughing. At times I am exceedingly feverish, at times I have the coldest chills; Pus is running out my ulcers, and my arms and legs are heavy. In the meantime, my suffering only got worse, as I am gasping for my life...

In the Jinshu 51 ・ Huangfu Mi describes his ailings caused by the drug, in a submittal, hoping to avoid office. He took this drug in hopes to cure his old disease (most likely a stroke), but only worsened his overall condition. As Huangfu Mi describes further implications, cited in Chao Yuanfang’s work Chaoshi Zhubing Yuanhuo ・ :

At times hands and feet hurt, and all joints want to loosen(?). On the body ulcers, form and knots raise. One sits at the bed and sits for a long time, without moving. Extreme heat is everywhere on the body and collects on one point. At times there are hard sores. When it gets worse, they turn to ulcers. When one recognizes that, the person has to wash it with cold water and rub a cold stone (over the sores). In an easy case the sores disappear after a short time; In the worst case one has to pour water over it for a few days without pause, and then it will improve. When the person has been watered for a while, he will recover eventually. But when the bumps are getting bigger and there is no improvement, one should take a knife whetstone and hold it to fire until it glows, then throw the stone in bitter wine. When the stone is in the bitter wine the stone shatters. Thereon one should grind the stone, and apply the stone mixture to the ulcers; When it has been done three times it will improve. Then one takes big worms from the toilet, grind them, and warm them up and apply the mixture to the ulcers, also that is not necessary to do more than three times, and then the healing is improved.

Huangfu Mi doesn’t write where the ulcers form but it is highly likely that they form on the back. Su Shi writes of decaying backs and according to Huangfu Mi, a son of Wang Su (195–256), Wang Liangfu, died because ‘ulcers ate his back away’.

Of course, the well-known side effect is getting feverish but there are far more, according to Chao Yuanfang’s work Chaoshi Zhubing Yuanhuo other side effects include ・ :

Swelling of the stomach, until it wants to explode

Inflamed buttocks

Stabbing pain in the heart, like needles

Dizziness, frequent falling

Pain on all limbs

Difficulty to urinate

Difficulty to defecate

Stiffening of the joints, until one cannot move or stretch

Defecating without knowing

Pain in the eyes, like needles

Tinnitus and liquids exiting the ear

Pain in the mouth, tongue is tensing, and the mouth getting so dry you can’t eat

Rotting of the testicles

Sweating secretion under the arms and ulcers (on the lymph nodes?)

Hypersomnia without being capable to wake up oneself

Swallowing a cough up, leading to an injury to the throat and to bleeding

The feeling of cold and heat change for months

Screaming loudly with a wide openend mouth and with wide openend eyes

Blindness

Insomnia

Stiffening of muscles and skin, until they are dry and feel like wood

Tendency for the eyes to pop out

Some of them can be deadly. But next to the physiological side effects, there are also the psychological side effects. Huangfu Mi writes the following, cited in Chao Yuanfang’s work Chaoshi Zhubing Yuanhuo ・ :

In general, those who take these drugs, when it came up too strongly, even when they are usually intelligent, they are getting dumb. When they are abandoned, they won’t get better. The number of those who died isn’t comprehensible. In general speaking for the stoned nobles, there are ten wrong attitudes (before ingesting the drug): 1.That they are starring angrily; 2.That they have fears or worries; 3. That they cry; 4.That they suppress defecation; 5. That they suppress hunger; 6.That they suppress thirst; 7.That they suppress heat; 8.That they suppress cold; 9.That they overexert themselves; 10.That they are sitting stiff and don’t move When one is against these ten wrong attitudes, one has to, when one wants to raise the effect of the drug, but is already stiff, always has to relax and bring harmony to the limbs; also one cannot read bitter things and not think of something worrying. If one is capable of doing that, the drug won’t come up too strongly and everything will better

If you fail in getting relaxed, similar to LSD, you are getting a ‘bad trip’. Huangfu Mi writes, which is also cited in Chao Yuanfang’s work Chaoshi Zhubing Yuanhuo ・ :

One time I felt like that, when I was sitting in front of my food and tears just kept falling. I took a knife and wanted to kill myself, but was unable to go through with it because my family noticed and took the knife away. I retreated, checked myself, and forced myself to eat and to drink cold water, after that the (desperation) stopped. That it didn’t come to a tragedy, hang on a single thread.

Wang Wei (398-425) once treated his brother with the five mineral drug, but he passed away as a consequence. Wang Wei blamed himself and wrote in a letter which is cited in the Songshu ・ :

In the past year, the powder came up too strongly; on the climax tears came to my eyes, day and night without stopping

And of course, we have Tuoba Gui, when he started taking the five mineral drug his reign was considered ‘a bad trip’

Everyone was aware of the side effects, but they didn’t attribute that as an inevitable consequence but as a case of an overdosing. It was considered safe to use as long as it was used correctly. How it was considered safe to use knew no one.

First Aid In Case of Overdose

At times it can happen, that one falls unconscious and doesn’t recognize people or circumstances. If one (wants) to move its mouth, one can’t open it. The ill person doesn’t know himself and relies on the help of others. In this case, it is necessary that one takes hot wine, for it now depends on his life. But if he can’t drink (the hot wine because of the stiff mouth), one has to kick his teeth in and force the wine down his throat. When the throat is blocked, and the wine flows out, one should not stop (pouring it in). When (the wine) flows out again, one should pour it again and repeats it for perhaps half a day. When the wine gets down, he will regain conscience, but if one stops, without the person drinking the wine, one kills the person.

This is a recommendation by Huangfu Mi cited in Chao Yuanfang’s work Chaoshi Zhubing Yuanhuo ・, it is probably self-explanatory that kicking the teeth of another person while unconscious, will at least provoke animosity, especially when the person unconscious is of higher rank like Pei Xiu. Huangfu Mi writes about his death in Chao Yuanfang’s work ・ :

Pei Xiu from Hedong took the drug and missed the codes of conduct. But because he attained the rank of Sangong, no one dared to force him to treat the (side effects of the drug). He was already beyond the stage of confusion, so that he wasn’t able to realize (what should have been necessary to do), and no one in his entourage knew how to help him. The treatment they chose for him was (giving him instead of warm wine, which would have been correct), letting him drink cold water and rinse him with cold water. When they used hundreds of shi of water on him, the cold became too much and, he died in the water.[10]

If one takes ten shi of glowing coal and pours over them 200 shi of cold water, the glowing coal will go out. Although the heat (caused) by the drug was great, it isn’t as great as the fire stemming from 10 shi stone coal. If one pours the person without interruption, the cold will be enough to kill him.

Later his son Pei Wei wrote a memorial, which you can find in the Jinshu 35, urging to correct the scale of the imperial physicians to prevent overdosing. He didn’t explicitly mention the five mineral drugs, but his background and the massive prevalence of the drug should be good indicators.

Lethality of the Five Mineral Drug

Those who survive (the intake) the longest, live for a few decades; those who live the shortest, only for five to six years. Even though I myself still see and breathe, (is that what I say), only the laugh of a drowning man.

Huangfu Mi’s description of the lethality of the drug cited in the Chaoshi Zhubing Yuanhuo ・. He also lists people who died from the drug in the following:

More and more people took this powder and refused to stop, at time, including myself. Although violent effects were not common it could take a man’s life. One of my cousins named Changhu, suffered from atrophy of the tongue almost shrunk back into his throat; Wang Liangfu of Donghai country suffered from ulcerative carbuncles on his back; Xin Changxu in western Gansu Province suffered ulceration of his back muscles; Zhao Gonglie in Shu County of Sichuan lost six of his cousins to it. All these sufferings were caused by taking cold food powder. Among these, some were quite elderly and some still young, only 5-6 years old. Though I have seen this and sighed at it, I am just like a single drowning man, laughing at those drowning. Yet patients will not take a warning from this, and stop themselves.[11]

Notes

[1] All of Huangfu Mi’s works about the five mineral powder, are only existant in citations in the Chaoshi Zhubing Yuanhuo, the Hanshi san lun and the Ishimpo.

[2] The translation of Cao Shuang’s biography was made by @xuesanguo​. You can read it here.

[3] This translation I found in Guan Lu’s wikipedia page. It basically says everything Wagner has translated. But I only know for sure in this passage, I don’t know if the rest is correct.

[4] I couldn’t find a whole translation of this passage, but in Google Books the translation for Wagners ‘sugar hat’ (in German ‘Zuckerhut’), is in other versions ‘sweet meat’ or ‘cakelike stalagmite’. I personally think ‘sugar hat’ fits best.

[5] Cao Xi was the son of Cao Hui, Prince of Dongping. After the establishment of Jin he was made Duke of Linqiu. His works about the powder were also lost to time and ony citations in the Ishimpo and in the Hanshi san lun survive. Also to note the Ishimpo, which was written in around the year 984, was the first medical text in Japan.

[6]This translation is in the book World History, Volume 1

[7]This translation is in the book The Buddhist Conquest of China: The Spread and Adaptation of Buddhism in Early Medieval China by Erik Zürcher

[8]This translation is in the book History Of Medicine In Chinese Culture. Important to note is that Chao Yuanfang hasn’t quoted neither Huangfu Mi nor Cao Xi, so it could be his own recommendation, which was then followed in the Sui dynasty.

[9] For more info on Wang Danhu I recommend Entombed Epigraphy and Commemorative Culture in Early Medieval China by Timothy M. Davis, Landadel - Emigranten - Emporkömmlinge: Familienfriedhöfe des 3.-6. Jahrhunderts n. Chr. in Südchina by Annette Kieser, and Emigrantenfamilien der Östlichen Jin-Zeit  im Spiegel ihrer Gräber und Grabinschrifttafeln also by Annette Kieser.

[10]The Jinshu says he drank cold wine, not cold water. In this case the Jinshu is correct, he should have had warm wine, but he was given cold wine.

[11]This translation is in the book History Of Medicine In Chinese Culture.