Lessons and Questions

"All things that are, were and going to be are recorded in the Weave of Fate. The Cycle of life and death is interwoven into the very fabric of reality, all things live, all things eventually die. Not counting the Gods. Well, no, I lie. Gods can die, new ones can be created, so I guess ALL things are subject to the Cycle. Do you understand, Scarlett?"

Debwynn, as her favorite sloth form, hung from her favorite branch and slowly spoke to Scarlett, who sat cross legged before the tree, with a bright blue and green songbird perched on her shoulder, absently feeding it some crumbs with her palm. She nodded and asked, "Why are all things subject to death, though? What about the undead?" She shuddered, remembering Ahri's defiled face.

The sloth's gentle face morphed into a scowl. "The undead are abominations, they exist outside of the Cycle. Their only purpose is death and violence, one should always destroy them AND those who dared create them!" The sloth dropped noisily from its branch into the soft ferns beneath it. Again, Scarlett smelled fresh water and, again the birds surrounding them chittered loudly. She'd learned that a 'signature' of sorts seemed to accompany any use of this elemental magic, Deb's was always water. She'd also learned that most animals were attuned enough to the Cycle to feel the use of its magic, which is why they always squawked whenever Deb 'shifted'.

The disheveled halfling woman waded from the undergrowth, a serious look on her face. "Abominations, I said! Spare none of them! Even if they look like someone you once knew, my girl! To the fire with them!" Deb moved quickly to grab a stick Scarlett had been using to tend the campfire and began to sketch on the sand between them. In a moment, she'd drawn a large circle and pointed to it.

"Imagine that this is the power of life. Inside of it are all the hopes, dreams, desires, and essence of all living things!" She drew another identical circle right beside the first, its edge just barely overlapping the original. "And this one is death. All things die, decay, feed mother earth and return to the cycle. It helps to think of them as two great wheels turning in concert. One turns the other, and so forth. Do you see?"

Scarlett's brow furrowed, remembering the water wheels used to turn the grain mills back in Westgate. "I think so. But, what happens to the energy all of that motion creates, Deb? If the cycle is constantly moving, growing and feeding on itself, what is the end goal? Who benefits, or rather, uses all of that natural power?" Scarlet reached out with a crimson finger and drew arrows of motion around both wheels. "And also, what happens where they contact each other?" She pointed at where the two circles overlapped and looked up at Deb.

Debwynn's eyes widened and she laughed. This young lady was a clever one. "My goodness, aren't you a clever monkey!" She cackled, and Charlie joined in on Scarlett's shoulder. "We use that energy, dear child. It powers the Weave of Magic all around the world, it's the same power Wizards tap into with their arcane jibber-jabber, it's all the same power. Though they would never admit such a thing, it's true! As for what happens here," she tapped the spot where the two circles touched, "That is one of life's great mysteries! Death's too." She laughed uproariously at this joke, the birds did not join her chorus this time, making Scarlett feel slightly uneasy.

"When you thought you were about to die, right before you ended up in my grove, what did YOU see?" Deb's wild eyes focused on Scarlett's and she found herself unable to look away.

"Honestly? I saw the threads of Mae's cloak because they were glowing faintly in the dark. Then I closed my eyes, and I could still see them sparkling in the dark as I dug and prayed to be safe." Scarlett shrugged and shook her head slightly, patting the cloak which sat folded in her lap. "It had never glowed before. I wonder why it did that?"

Deb trundled over and sat beside Scarlett, patting her hand gently. "Most people see a light, or a great hallway when they die. Nobody really knows what exists in that void between existence and the great nothing." She reached out and lifted the cloak up and looked at it closely, peering at the gold and silver threads that made up the embroidery, at the bright colored beads that became flowers. She looked at Scarlett with a mischievous expression. "It's magic, I can 'feel' that. But I don't know the specifics, you'll need a wizard to explain that to you." She let the cloak drop back onto Scarlett's lap.

"It hasn't done a damn thing since, Deb. Only when that storm blew up on us. And then, all the caravanners became… abominations." Scarlett pursed her lips in thought, Deb nodded encouragingly. "And then I heard a voice. Like a whisper from the grave itself, it said it was looking for me. Called me, 'My Love'. I smelled carrion and rotted vegetation when it happened, not too different from how I 'feel' it when you shift, Deb."

"Yes, I call that 'the vibe'. Wizards call it 'magical resonance' or something equally stupid. We all leave some trace of our gifts, others who are sensitive can feel it. It's like a signature to everyone's unique magic and connection to the Cycle." Deb nodded sagely, and satisfied at having imparted her wisdom, she patted Scarlett on the shoulder and moved back towards her favorite branch. Still a halfling, she started to climb it, blurring halfway through to become a sloth once more right before Scarlett's eyes.

Again came the sensation of a fresh water scent and again, the multitudes of birds made a cacophony of noise as they 'felt' it too. The sloth heaved a heavy sigh and yawned as it spoke again, "The more powerful the spell or prayer or ability, the stronger the 'vibe'. Other spellcasters will sense your power, unless you take steps to hide it."

This made some sense to Scarlett, hiding things from people was second nature to her. "And you'll teach me how to do that, Deb? To hide my vibe?"

No answer was forthcoming, save for a gentle whistle of a snore as the sloth drifted off for another impromptu nap. Scarlett chuckled and swore a little, she was getting used to Deb's random naps but they still irritated her at times like this. She stood and began to wander about the grove collecting herbs and vegetables to begin the evening meal, muttering to herself. High above the grove, the sun reached its pinnacle and began to slide towards the opposite horizon as she began to cook, the cloak once more about her shoulders. Thoughts and memories came back to her as she worked, and she spent the next hour trying to put together some ideas. She felt agonizingly close to figuring something out, but like a word just on the tip of one's tongue, it evaded her.

Why did she hear that voice? Was it talking to her, or to someone else? How did whatever had sent the magic at the caravan even know she was there? For that matter, why assume that she had been the target, and if she WAS, how was Mae's cloak involved? Did whoever was behind that also have a hand in Mae's death? Her questions left the pot simmering, and Scarlett chose to follow Deb's example and indulge in an afternoon nap of her own...