[Safeholme Grounds] You Were My Brother

[Kokuten]

Safeholme
The Gardens
Two Weeks Before the Descent into the Maw

Percival Caxton walked the grounds of Safeholme, students passing him by as the school day ended. He glanced at the procession as they left, and marveled at how much the school had grown in his absence. The man had a thought to congratulate Ruarc the next time he saw him, as opening a school like this in a place like Osaka was no mean feat.

Their first meeting had gone so-so, Ruarc and himself. Percival had sat down at the druid's table and began picking apart his life as if he had any place to do so. Each day since then was a careful dance of trying to figure out where the boundaries were again. Today was no different, Percival had intended to come pay the man a visit in his cottage. To try and strike up another conversation so that they could talk like they used to.

But then, he got distracted.

Instead of veering right, he veered left, drawn by the gardens that had changed so much since he had seen them last. Having spent several years looking at nothing but snow, stones, and the occasional heavenly realm, an earthly garden seemed like a little treat. A little smile on his face, he made his way through the well-kept paths, determined to apologize later for being late. At any rate, his chest was hurting again, and it would probably do him good to let it pass before he sat down to talk.

Along his walk, he came by a small patch of flowers, noticing that one of the bunch looked particularly unwell compared to the rest. While the rest of its sisters stood tall and proud, this one slumped, giving an appearance that suggested it wouldn't survive the next few days.

"There there," consoled Percival, squatting his thin frame down to cup the drooping bud in his hand, "No reason to look so sad when you look so pretty."

Withdrawing his hand for a moment, he pulled out a little vial, kept in a bandoleer hidden under his vest, and dripped some of the contents into the soil. Almost immediately, the flower began to straighten, losing the weakness it had shown before.

Percival brought a finger up to his mouth, winking at the flower, "Shhh, don't tell anyone. It'll be our little secret."

[Straken]

A punctuated titter came from behind Percy. Behind him stood Caoranach, having seemingly manifested out of thin air in the way she seemed to enjoy doing. The Lady of the Fey Court had arrived for a rather similar purpose, as it had been almost a month since the last time she came along to pester him. Along the way as she passed by groups of students unaware of her, she had seen Percival and become distracted herself. Rarely having had the chance to mess with the Welshman in recent years, she now remembered hearing he had returned from self-imposed exile. As she observed him for a moment she was happy to see him take time out of his day for a single flower, but where would the fun be if she congratulated him.

"Always amusing to watch an Alchemist," Caoranach said with a smirk as she folded her arms across her stomach. "Do you always carry fertilizer in your pocket?"

[Kokuten]

Percival's hand shuddered, nearly spilling the vial. He licked his lips as the palpable shock washed over him, still not used to being surprised. The shock already set him on poor footing, but the air was made more rancid by the fact that it was Caoranach. The demon that had sank her claws into Ruarc's soft heart. The Alchemist had not quite come to terms with her existence still, much less her presence in Ruarc's life.

With a deep breath, he stood up, sheathing the vial behind his vest. There was a look in his eyes that was reminiscent of a man who was eying a wild beast instead of a beautiful woman. In truth, Caoranach was terribly beautiful, but it was the fae sort of beauty. Fae beauty, in myths and legends, always served a more predatory purpose than precious.

"Certainly. Alchemy is a versatile art," muttered Percival, smiling in a begrudging sort of way. He tried to fix his grin a bit, not hiding his discomfort well. "I'm sure you understand the benefits, being of nature and all. We alchemists take what is given by nature, make it better and return it. Just as you saw here."

[Straken]

"Ahh, the hubris of science," Caoranach said, sounding almost reminiscent as she looked away dreamily. "To think one can improve upon nature. Unless you intend to brew a potion for every wilting flower in the forest, nature will always win out in the end."

The faerie squared her stance and lifted her chin ever so slightly. She was confident here at Safeholme. While she wasn't a member of the little magic Breakfast Bears Club Ruarc kept, nor certainly not on the payroll of the school, Caoranach had been a regular guest of Ruarc's for years now. In fact, the frequency of her visits had increased not long after Percy disappeared. She had never quite put those pieces together, but she felt a pang of annoyance and wondered if Percy had yet to apologize for leaving Ruarc alone during a tumultuous time.

"Versatile indeed, seeing as I trust it can do more than replicate a compost bin."

[Kokuten]

"You haven't changed a bit, but I suppose that is indicative of nature: an implacable being that does not change," waxed Percival sharply, not enjoying the tone in her voice, and her presence even less now. He placed his hand behind his back, narrowing his eyes as he watched her. "Nature would have let that flower wilt and die. Nature would have nodded its head knowingly, saying, 'It was the flower's time.' Alchemy, a product of humanity and mage-kine, would raise its hand and say, 'I think not, I can save that flower.'"

Percival tilted his head forward a bit, urging an answer from Caoranach, "Because, unlike nature, alchemy can change. It may be a storied art these days, but it does more for one little flower in a moment than an actual deity does standing a mere five-feet away."

[Straken]

"And by wilting and dying, it infuses the soil with nutrients to help the other plants yet to come," a quiet, dark smile grew on Caoranach's lips, and her eyes looked like a lioness who had begun to circle some prey. She seemed to have been waiting for a chance to spar, even if just with words. "As to be expected of mortal whimsy. You see what is right in front of you, but have such a hard time seeing beyond it. Do you know the purpose of a tactic called a controlled burn? It is to simulate a forest fire, burning away old, wilting, and choked forests. If all you do is try to preserve, eventually the forest will choke upon itself and die. Killed by preservation. Nature is about balance. For every act of preservation, there must also be an act of ruin."

With measured grace, Caoranach took a couple steps towards Percy, the click and clack of her low heeled shoes making a steady metronome on the cobble; stopping only when she was a couple feet away, and looking down at the shorter man. "Much the same could be said about humanity. In putting a stopper on nature, what has become of this world? Old, wilting, choked."

[Kokuten]

Instead of looking up at her eyes, Percival kept his gaze forward as Caoranach approached him, the fear rising in his throat. He was a smaller man, indeed, and felt the difference in height sharpen the edges of her words as she spoke down to him. The smell of a fragrant aroma filled his nostrils, and that fae influence fogged his mind. The man closed his eyes, mustering his courage and his senses, calming the shaking in his hand.

"Of course," he said finally, his fear quelled, and a dry smirk spread on his face.

Caoranach saw the Alchemist shift his foot, but only so he could lean back more comfortably to look her square in the eye. "Like aging parents, on the cusp of senility, you all sneer at anything younger than yourself that has any gumption to change anything. 'What good is it', you say. 'It's the way of the world', you say. All the while humanity has developed cures to diseases, hunger and illness; broken down the body into its basest parts, developing an empirical understanding of the world. Humanity is not a disease, it is the doctor curing a disease of stagnation that has plagued this planet for thousands of years. Alchemy is an art of progress and nature is not immune to it, nor is it above it, it is below it."

[Straken]

"Alchemy, my dear child," Caoranach said, her head tilting as her smile one of undisguised derision. "Is nothing more than an art of denial. You can play at being a god all you like, but at the end of the day you, and every other alchemist, will pass. You will be burned or buried, and in practically a blink of an eye to true timelessness you will be forgotten. While Nature, and I, will be around looooong after you are gone. Who is below whom? Because worm food seems to think it can speak so freely to one so far above its station."

Then she turned and waved a dismissive hand in Percy's direction. "Regardless, I am here for a purpose, and this conversation has entertained me for long enough."

[Kokuten]

"Ah, and here I was enjoying our conversation," lied Percival through his teeth, the comment following Caoranach, but his blood pumping so heavily in his veins he didn't dare to follow her. The Alchemist hadn't spoken with many people in his time away, and he had forgotten how easy it was for him to get riled. He took a breath, pressing his hand to his chest and evening himself out.

He gritted his teeth, trying to smile, trying to be genial.

Yet, his wounded pride couldn't let it go.

"Humanity is outgrowing nature," said Percival, almost as an aside to the flowers, "each and every day. I feel, rather firmly, they'll outgrow you long before they outgrow Alchemy: the art of Science. Forces of nature used to decide the fates of civilizations, and now they are merely obstacles. If humanity continues, where does that leave nature? Where would that leave you?"

Percival looked up at the sky, "Is that why you come to see him all the time?"

[Straken]

"Nature will be where it always has been, Percival," Caoranach said, her tone measured. "Just outside your door. Waiting to swallow you whole."

Caoranach had started to walk away, but stopped after a few paces. She wasn't angry, she wasn't annoyed, nor she wasn't even feeling particularly irked; just something about his last question got stuck in her head. When she turned back to Percy, her gaze was not cold but simply a pure representation of indifference. Caoranach looked upon Percy the way a person walking down the sidewalk might look upon an ant near their shoe. Who was she to suffer accusations from a mortal? A look of consternation crossed her face momentarily. "I'm going soft," she thought.

"For one who fancies himself so bright, you miss so much," Caoranach's voice had regained a hint of warmth. "Though I suppose that is to be expected from a man who runs to hide like a family's dog sensing it's about to die of old age. When was the last time you thought about someone else without it needing to involve you as well? Wasn't Ruarc supposed to be your best friend?"
Her voice was starting to rise, and the warmth was turning into fire. "Do you have any idea what he has been going through?! I suspect not, as it isn't about you. Do you want to know why I visit Ruarc? Because his best friend abandoned him while he was still healing from...!"

Caoranach stopped herself and turned back around, quieting the emotions that had begun to splay across her features. When she looked back over her shoulder, her face was placid, but her eyes were icy and fathomless. "He has healed more with you gone than he ever did with you here."

It was at this point Ruarc rounded a corner, a look of concern and confusion on his face. As he drew closer he called to the two. "What in the world is going on over here?"