Merlin et Nimue (Story x Cyrano)

[CyranoDeBergerac]

According to physicists there are four fundamental interactions, also known at the four fundamental forces that do not appear to be reducible down to more basic interactions. These four forces are: gravity, electromagnetism, strong and weak interactions. Some physicists propose that there is a fifth force in the universe that cannot be reduced to other interactions and they are correct in that proposal, but they will never be able to empirically prove their hypothesis. They are correct though, there is a fifth force, magic. They will never be able to prove the existence of magic, however, because Magic is an Art. You cannot scientifically know or perform magic, one person can say a word of power such as "Abrahadabra" and nothing would occur. Another one may say it and bring down mountains.

Magic inherently competes with science, because Science requires that 1+1 always equals two, and magic is the inherent refutation of that proposition. Because of this, technology made as recently as the mid-fifties is bound to be reduced to scraps after any amount of time in the presence of a particularly powerful magic user. Airmen in the 1940's were the first to note this strange phenomenon, attributing their unexplained mechanical failures to "gremlins" and not to the number of magic users within their ranks and at the battlefields they were flying over. Perhaps it was also no coincidence that the first article noting disappearances in the triangle created by Miami, San Juan and Bermuda due to mechanical failures was published early in 1950.

Perhaps a more modern example might better illustrate this principle. Imagine, if you will, a young woman driving around the bend of a mountainous road, almost as far from civilization as it's possible to get east of the Mississippi. Now this young woman, from appearances, would seem to be perfectly normal. Driving an affordable modern car made of the safest materials and equipped with an advanced computer to control everything from the wind shield wipers to the engine and brakes. Now, as mentioned this young woman does not appear to have a magic bone in her body, but perhaps she has a reputation for bricking her smart phones and never seemed to keep a new car or device running for long without it needing near constant maintenance. Perhaps, she's never been on a plane or spent much time at hospitals, or maybe she has just been lucky. It could after all just be a twist of fate that her being had become so in tune to the arcane energies that flowed in the world around her that the delicate equipment of her vehicle could not withstand the uncertainty of the energy that now surrounded it. Causing the car to breakdown on the side of the windy mountain road in the middle of nowhere.

Now to continue down this illustration, add grey storm clouds to the sky and the slight echo of thunder in the distance. in the search for shelter and assistance the girl then goes into the woods to try and find anyone at all to give her succor. As she searches it begins to rain and not only does she want to find assistance, she Needs it. Now, Need is one of the most ancient kind of spells, and the type that one does not cast without great consideration. It requires much channeling of energy and will, but it is also the exact type of rough instrument that a prospective mage in need might cast in a time of distress without knowing that she was even doing it. The prospective mage would feel warm, filled with energy, and experience heightened sense for a moment, with the rain falling around her, and then the spell would transport her through the woods and over the hills to the nearest place to find shelter. She would be tired, wet and maybe hungry by the time she arrived to the clearing that contained Jacob's cabin, but besides the slight passage of time she would never have realized she had done magic until it was pointed out.

Not only does this hypothetical demonstrate the basic principles of how magic interacts with modern technology as well as providing an explanation for why Jacob felt the odd pinprick on the back of his neck that indicated that someone was approaching his cabin on the near side of his wards. That was something strange because he had wards designed to do two things: first, stop all really big and powerful things from getting closer than a mile from his valley; second, put a suggestion in the mind of all plain mortals that would direct them to go somewhere else. So the reality that there was something either strong enough to get around his wards without being sensed, or sly enough to sneak through them coming towards him certainly put him on edge.

Jacob looked like a man from another century as he sat at his reading chair beside the fire in his cabin that he had built himself over a period of two-hundred years. He wore jeans with a belt that had loops cut into it for pistol and rifle cartridges, there were a pair of farmer's boots next to the door and a button up flannel shirt that all combined made him look like a farmer from the 1950's. His cabin was a simple thing, with walls lined with shelves of books spanning four hundred years.; a kitchenette to the right of the door,; a hallway beside the kitchenette that led to a bathroom, a room for his apprentice and his own bedroom.; there was also a trapdoor hidden beneath one of the rugs that led to his basement laboratory. His innate sense of the surroundings of his valley told him that whoever was approaching his cabin was about three-hundred yards away and closing.

Rising from his comfortable chair he set the grimoire he was reading on his stand next to his reading chair and turned towards the door, in an umbrella stand next to the door were two instruments that he called to him. His staff and a Henry repeating rifle. He leveled both at the door as he sensed the intruder came to the large, circular clearing that he had created around his cabin, and then he waited as that person crossed the clearing and came to his door. To his surprise, the person knocked, the sound of rain almost drowning it out.

"Who is it?" Jacob asked cocking his rifle.

 

[Story]

Everly -- Ever -- kicked the tire of the beat up old Honda that sat steaming on the side of country road … something with the growing irritation and panic of someone who knew that they were fucked. It wasn’t the first time she had ever had car trouble, but it might have been the first time she’d had car trouble this far outside of what she was used to. After popping the hood and rummaging uselessly to see if she could identify what was wrong with the car this time, she did finally pull out her cell from her back pocket and wander a few feet north with it held high up in the air, allowing her signal to roam … roaming … roaming … roaming -- lost.

Frustrated, she wandered back to the truck and glared at the Honda as if it was somehow its fault that she was now stranded, with no other cars in sight, no cell reception, and no one out there who knew where the hell she was. Just like too many times before this, the exasperated sigh she blew through her nose was her final acceptance that she was going to have to hoof it to the nearest residential area, hopefully find a gas station somewhere so that she could call a tow truck or find someplace to get a rental for the remainder of her trip.

And hope that they accepted cash. Card wasn’t going to work for this little trip.

The reminder of just why she was on the road caused her stomach to clench. Something icy and heavy sunk to the bottom of her gut, making her feel nauseous as she glanced behind her from where she had come from, paranoia setting in and making her hasten her way along. Snatching her bag out of the truck’s cabin, she hoisted it over her shoulder and began her trudge down the shoulder of the highway.

Not thirty minutes into her trek, the low rumble of thunder in the sky made her pause and tilt herself, groaning out loud at the rolling grey clouds that were coming in fast, and she still hadn’t seen any sign of life. Quickening her pace, however, did nothing to slow the incoming downpour that followed the clouds that chased her heels, until the fall of rain quickly plastered long dark hair to her face and soaked through the jeans and t-shirt she wore. And, no doubt, the contents of her bag.

Call it intuition; call it a wild guess. Call it that weird tingling she (often) felt that curled her toes and directed her that she had begun to follow direction from a young age, inwardly calling it her luck sense, but Ever soon found herself veering off the safety of the side of the road and into the thicket of trees. She felt blind, but also fully aware, and yet seemed oblivious that the wild growth around her tugged at her clothes and slapped at her bare skin. That the rain was still falling and causing gooseflesh to pebble up and down her bare arms. When these feelings came over her, she was of a singular mind -- and that was to follow her instinct wherever it took her.

Apparently, that happened to be stumbling into a clearing. Like a rubber band snapping across her awareness, she came back into herself as if waking up from a daydream. Her stomach lurched, then rumbled, making her wonder just how long she had been walking. Though her legs soon answered the question for us with their groans of exertion, her feet agreeing by aching in her sneakers.

Squinting, Ever could see a cabin at the end of where she had emerged. Well, call in the good luck train. The thought came with a snarky overture, followed up with a prickling dread. Or this is the house of a serial killer and if I go any closer, I’m going to be killed and eaten, because they’re also a cannibal.

But it was also raining and Ever was tired from walking, hungry, and worn from her journey getting to this point. If she were going to be eaten by a serial killer cannibal, then fuck it. Bone weary and drenched, she hoisted her rain soaked bag again and trudged forward in shoes that squished in the grass. Approaching the door after what seemed like an entity to cross the mud-slogged terrain and too high grass -- obviously, whoever owned the home didn’t own a lawn mower -- she bared her teeth in what she hoped to be a semi-charming smile and lifted her fist to knock on the door.

Only to stop mid-knock by the sound of a muffled voice through the door. Lowering her fist, she squinted at one of the cabin’s windows to see if she could make out a person. Masculine, from the sounds, which did away of her hopes that an old widow lived out here and re-emerged her thoughts that she might die out here, she squawked out her reply, “Uh.. I’m hoping you can give me direction, Sir. My name is Ever. My … husband is waiting for me and I’m already late meeting him, so I don’t want him to worry.”

The lie came easily enough. Gave the impression that she was at least expected somewhere, which meant that whoever was behind the door was less likely to murder her if they knew someone would come searching for her.

 

[CyranoDeBergerac]

Lies have a certain taste on the ears. It was a taste that one grew used to when they lived as long as a mage is reckoned to live. According to the calendar, Jacob had been born almost five hundred years ago, though he had lived even longer due to time spent in at least one a-temporal alternate plane of existence. In that long time, Jacob had heard a lot of lies in that period of time, but as lies went the 'my husband is waiting for me' lie was hardly unique or surprising. The asking for directions and calling him 'Sir' part was a nice touch though.

Assuming that whoever was behind his door, sheltering on his porch, was either a vampire, demon, fey or minor goddess taking the guise of a human woman Jacob kept his rifle and staff leveled at the door. half of those possibilities could not enter without his express permission, so there was a chance this was going to get interesting. It had been a while since Jacob had tangled with any of those creatures. Just the thought of tangling with another made his scars ache.

"You're twenty-five miles from the nearest road, so I'm not sure what kind of directions you're looking for." Jacob answered, his voice a deep bass that seemed to contain the slight rumble of thunder. It was a voice that when casting spells called fire from the sky and made mountains shake to their roots. A voice that had shouted down monsters; matched wills with gods,; and seduced one of the Faerie Queens. He didn't take a moment to consider how his voice must sound coming through his thick front door and out into the storm. Though he did try to have a less intimidating natural pitch and hue to it.

Magic is something that every human being has the potentiality to learn magic, though some have more capacity for it than others. Much the same as many other talents that a person might develop; there were some who were natural mages and some who needed to work hard for every little hint of magic, though those with the will to work hard also possessed the will to work great Works with the Art. One of the most rudimentary techniques that talented mages learn is how to open their Third Eye. It was not a literal eye, but more of an expanding of consciousness to allow the psyche to become aware of the transmundane, the information that this heightened awareness opened the mind to needed to be processed through the other senses, typically vision. Hence the names True Sight or Third Eye.

Opening his Third Eye allowed Jacob to look beyond the door upon the girl on the opposite side and see her true form. The face she presumably wanted to hide. Imagine his surprise then to find that instead of some powerful monster that was inexplicably on his doorstep and here to carve his guts out of him with some combination of claws and fangs; there was , also inexplicably, a perfectly normal looking human girl. OF course, there was the slight after-glow of a major casting radiating around her being in the slight blue light of True Sight. Jacob gazed upon her for a moment, making certain that what he was seeing was reality. Two possibilities ran through his mind, either this girl was an incredibly potent candidate to be a mage or she had recently had a tryst with a divine being and may be carrying a demigod.

Of the two options, the former seemed more likely.

Releasing a deep sigh of relief, Jacob dropped the hammer of the rifle and put the safety on before setting the rifle and the staff to the side where they had come from. Then he opened the door. He did his best not to be physically imposing, but as a nearly seven foot tall man with a shaved head, large beard, and shoulders that an ox would envy, was something he was particularly good at being. "My apologies for not being more hospitable, you get all kind of strange people out in this mountains. Never know when the person knocking on your door is a cannibal serial killer." He said trying to lighten the mood as he stepped aside before gesturing for the young woman to come inside.

 

[Story]

Nope. No way. Never mind. She would take her chances in the woods and try to find her way back to the road. The voice that boomed back at her from the other side of the door belonged to a full grown man, reminding her that she had walked -- how far? Twenty five miles? How? -- away from civilization.

Panic clawed at her throat and she took an instinctive step back, eyes darting to the treeline as she tried to muster up enough will to convince her feet to make a dash for it before--

He opened the door. She had hesitated long enough that he had opened his door. She could practically feel herself shrink away as she tilted her head back to meet the intense stare of the man who came out to greet her. Like some sort of shield, her bag was now clutched to her front as she took in the imposing sight.

Never know when the person knocking on your door is a cannibal serial killer.

Her mouth went dry. Had she said that out loud? Heart thundering, she shook her head instinctively and plastered a grin on her face that was an even bigger lie than her being married. “Oh, I’m sorry that I bothered you, sir. Look, I didn’t realize I’d gotten so sidetracked. I think I’ll just head back the way I came before it gets dark. Thanks anyway--”

Despite the crack in her voice, she managed to turn around and step off the porch without tripping over her own two feet. Without wanting to provoke the man that stood in the doorway by moving too fast, she threw her hand up to even wave, “Have a good evening!”

No matter that it was still raining and her clothes were now plastered to her frame and weighing her down, she needed to get out of there ASAP. What had she been thinking anyway? Going up to some stranger’s house? Did she think she was going to find some homely grandma living in the cabin?

So Ever stepped off the porch and started making her way back across the lawn, hoping to hell the giant behind her wasn’t in the mood to play chase.

 

[CyranoDeBergerac]

The clearing the Jacob's cabin had been built in was slightly sloped, with the front of the cabin facing a the downward slope, with another slight curve off to the left of the cabin, but more of the hill rose up behind the cabin. Honestly with how hard it was coming down Jacob was amazed that she did not go sliding back towards the treeline. Honestly, Jacob understood why she might decide to run way, after all, stories of monsters, men and monstrous men living in backwoods cabins did not originate in the modern age. Of course, in the Appalachians one might be more likely to come into contact with the odd hillbilly cannibal clan than an individual serial killer.

However irresponsible it may be to let her go off like that, but Jacob was of the mind that sometimes the best teacher is experience and the best lesson plan is to toss the student into the deep end and let them swim or drown on their own merits. In times past Jacob would have insisted that she come inside under his protection, night was currently falling, though it was hardly any darker with the deep summer storm coming down. Jacob's last apprentice had been during the 1960's and as luck would have it three of his last four apprentices had been women and active during their own waves of feminism.

When she was far enough away that it would not be threatening, Jacob stepped out onto his porch and leaned against the post that held up the awning of his porch. "If you change your mind, I have a spare bedroom." He said in as friendly of a tone as possible, honestly thinking it would be easier on both of them if she changed her mind. Of course, if she was anything like Alice or Amelia, or even Clotho before them, then she would be just as stubborn about accepting help from a man. Or just as smart in not accepting help from a stranger.

Off in the distance a wolf howled and it's pack answered it.

Jacob's warding spells had two layers to it. The first layer covered the whole valley, protecting it from major uninvited guests and turning away mortals from it, it even prevented the valley and the mountain the lined it from appearing on maps. Planes flew around it, and he had updated it so that satellites did not notice it. A mix of illusion and abjuration magic. Many things could get past it, however. The clearing that surrounded his cabin had an even stronger warding on it, and anything but the most threatening beings would stop at it and politely ask for the right to enter. In the space in between many things lived that went bump in the night. Of chief concern for the moment was a small tribe of goblins and the odd woodwose traveling through the area. Of course, the average American would know a woodwose as Bigfoot or Sasquatch.

 

[Story]

She was not going to change her mind. It had been stupid of her to approach the cabin in the first place, even more so that she had wandered this far into the woods to begin with. Against her will, her throat closed up as she stumbled through the grass as fast as she could without stumbling and falling face forward in mud. Tears filled her eyes in frustration, blending in the rain as they poured down her cheek. Anger and fear wrestled with each other as she squeezed her bag tighter against her torso as her blurred vision searched the treeline as if that would help jog her memory of how she had gotten there in the first place.

Ever made it all the way past the tree line by the time that dark was really starting to enclose, made even darker by the dense treeline that ripped and swayed with the wind. The storm was picking up, too. Squinting through the shadows of the forest, she gritted her teeth to try and see where she could go, then moaned her frustration into the wind. By then, panic took refuse, clutching at her chest and making it hard to breathe. After wandering in what felt like circles, Ever finally leaned up against a tree and choked down a sob that stuck in her throat.

Perhaps it might be better for her to take her chances with the intimidating man in the cabin. Dig out her mace and ask to use his phone. Even she was smart enough to know that she couldn’t find her way back to her car this deep in the ones, in the dark and rain. She pushed away from the tree, intent on finding her way back.

Only to realize that she couldn’t find her way back.

A new wave of panic broke through the surface, smothering her earlier resolve as she wandered for what felt like an eternity before she heard a noise like cracking branches, followed with a low cackling, tittering noise. Jumping, she turned around, then around again, until the heel of her shoe caught on a root jutting from the ground, falling hard on her backside. Sliding backwards in mud, she struggled to her feet, right as a trio of small, viscous looking --

Demons?

Jumped from the underbrush. Ugly, pinched faces, skin that camouflage well with the trees. Carrying sharpened sticks, they scampered towards her, all teeth and intent. Ever scream, the sound muted by the rain, she threw up her hands as if they were a sufficient shield. Her skin prickled like it was crawling with static electricity, followed by a sudden release.

Then nothing. She wasn’t attacked.

Instead, she heard a trio of screeches and howls of terror from the disgusting imp-things. The noise was enough for her to lower her arms, eyes wide as she stared at the creatures dancing in place, trying to slap away sparks that crawled over their forms. They jerked here and there, one even falling to the ground to roll.

 

[CyranoDeBergerac]

Once, Berzog had led a his small tribe of goblins to prey upon the weak and vagrants in the shadows of human cities. They made up part of that horrifying and awe-full supernatural underworld that hid just beneath the surface of mortal society. Pickings had grown lean for the tribe in recent years and Berzog had decide to lead his tribe west in the quest of greener pastures. They had heard rumors of a Hidden Mountain and valley beneath it where the tribe could hide and regroup. The pickings were good in the valley, and they hunted like they had in the old days, taking deer and other wild beasts on the barely used game trails.

The tribe had learned to avoid the clearing and its wardings as well as the other areas that the mage frequented. Behind the clearing where the wizard lived there was a pasture and coop where chicken, horses, cattle and other livestock lived. After the first few goblins to attempt to thin the herd did not return, they learned not to touch anything that existed within the wizard's domain. To take from the wizard was to court death. Still, when the human girl had appeared as if from nowhere the goblin tribe had started to stalk her, following from the shadows. Their green-black, mottled skin and cat-like eyes allowed them to stalk her through the storm as she came towards the cabin. Berzog was able to restrain his tribe from attacking the human, who was obviously a neophyte mage, while she approached the cabin. But, when she left without any obvious sign of the mage's protection he could hold them back no more.

When the three scouts of the tribe approached the human they were expecting an easy kill. The plan was that they would bring down the prey, hamstringing her and severing the tendons in her wrists so that she couldn't cast. Then the tribe would fall upon the dropped prey and feast. It was not pretty what goblins did to sentient prey, especially females.

Everything changed within the span of seconds. In the brief moment when the goblins' eyes were adjusting between lightning strikes the young mage either abjured or evoked and the three scouts were writhing in pain from sparks spreading over their whole body. '

Goblins were cunning and wily creatures, at least at times, but when it came to back-up plans they tended to default to only one option. Swarm.

Suddenly the night was filled with the luminescent glow of almost twenty sets of goblin eyes surrounding the girl. They approached slowly, cautiously, unsure about whether the neophyte could do to them what she had done to their fellows. The goblins began to whisper and cackle , aiming to inspire fear in their prey.

"Meat. Bones-snap. Prey. Feast. Blood. Suck the eyes, break the bones, eat the marrow, drink the blood." On and on they came as they moved closer and closer to the prey, whispering their depraved antrophagic thoughts. If the mage was terrified then she possibly wouldn't be able to cast.

Berzog moved first, larger than the others, almost as tall as the girl, but twice as wide. His skin was covered in a shaggy fur, his bald head shone in the light of the storm, his eyes glowed golden-green as they bored into her and his teeth flashed yellow-white as he smiled. He carried no weapon though, instead stretching his fingers and revealing yellow-black claws nearly six inches long and perfectly designed to rend and slice through flesh and bone. His gut was full and paunchy, fat enough to fit a whole fawn inside, but when he leapt forward he moved lighter and faster than one would think. Lunging over his fellows he swung his arm back and then moved to bring it forward and slice through Everly at neck level.

There was no clap of thunder, or flash of light. One moment Jacob was not there, and then he was. He had thrown on a long black duster that covered him to his calves, and a wide brimmed that covered his bald head. Fear filled Berzog's eyes in mid-leap and he began to let out a horrific scream, but before it could end Jacob had brought his oak staff around and slammed its tip into the goblin chief's rib-cage , Berzog went flying, shattering a tree and cotinuing on disappearing into the night. The power of the force spell Jacob had just used sending the goblins screaming and running away.

"Are you alright?" He asked as he grounded the staff and turned slightly to look back at Everly.

 

[Story]

When Ever was a little girl, she had watched a movie called The Princess and the Goblin, which depicted the creatures in front of her a charactactures of what the reality was. Reality. As if this wasn’t some sort of fucked up fever dream and she was really in a hospital somewhere because she had actually crashed her car. Or -- this was hell and she was actually dead. There was no other sensible, logical reason for her predicament, because creatures like the things that emerged from the forest just did not exist except in books and movies.

Ever resisted the urge to laugh at her situation, especially as ten more eyes appeared in the dark. Then twenty, maybe more, until she was surrounded by a semi-circle of warped shapes in small bodies, chanting like something out of a horror movie. Instead, the laughter came out as a choke, and terror made her blood turn to ice in her veins. Scrambling, the young woman managed to get to her feet, bag held threateningly out to the side as she prepared to Final Girl the situation and fight long enough to find an escape route through the mass.

She promised herself that at the end of her Cabin in the Woods experience, she would live a nice, boring, wet blanket life somewhere in Colorado and wouldn’t even smoke pot. No drinking, no drugs, no leaving her house. Maybe she would get a cat.

“Go fuck yourself!” The scream was shrill, desperate, but no less menacing because of it. It was the kind of scream that rasped the vocal chords, ear piercing and terrible. She even swung her bag a time or three at the encroaching horde, trying to scare them off.

She had bent her knees when the big, ugly one made his move, ready to play baseball with its form when it launched itself at her. Only she didn’t quite get that far before the presence of the man from the cabin was in front of her, blocking her view with his broad back and height. While she wasn’t about to lean around him to see what was going on, she did hear the thunk of a body hitting something solid, followed by the monster forces retreating back into the dark.

Then they were just … gone. She was left alone, again, with this man.

Everly had to tilt her head to look up at him, the aquamarine vibrancy of her eyes wide like saucers, while her hair looked like a mass of wet snails curling across her face and plastered to her scalp.

And then she just started laughing. Deep throated, body wracking, giggles that exploded from her mouth and escalated into a fit of hysterics. Maybe it was the hat, the coat, the fucking staff. Maybe it was the fact that she had almost been eaten by a bunch of gremlins. Maybe it was just because she was losing her fucking mind.

But her response to his question? She laughed.

 

[CyranoDeBergerac]

This was hardly the first time that Jacob had saved what was essentially a vanilla mortal from beings of supernatural origin. When you make your living as the Council of Magi's 'problem solver' occasional instances of heroics are to be expected. He had seen every way that the human mind could react to the revelation that the world is vaster than it at first appeared and that humans are not at the top of the food chain. He had seen minds break at the boggling ramifications of such revelations. Ordinarily the mind learned how to cope quickly, rebuilding and structuring itself to protect its own integrity. This was what he assumed he saw as Everly seemed to break into hysterical laughter in front of his eyes. A perfectly reasonable reaction after what she had just experienced.

"Let's get you out of this rain." Jacob said, his voice comforting, or at least attempting to be despite its deepness. Now that the threat was gone and he was attempting to do damage control he did his best to come across as more of the 'protective, bear sized guardian' than 'crazy old man living in the middle of nowhere.' How successful his attempts were would be entirely up to her own perception of events. Taking her gently by the shoulder he turned her and started to walk her back towards the cabin, going in the same direction he had tossed Berzog, but certain that the goblin chief had vacated the area as fast as his broken body would allow him.

Ordinarily Jacob was a fairly taciturn man living by ones self in the woods for nearly three hundred years, even though he had not truly ever become a 'hermit' , would do that to a person. though several of his friends in the Council liked to point out that he had spent the majority of that time either travelling the world or with at least one young person living in his apprentice room. After moments like this though, he acknowledged that some explanation might be in order, so he would try to dance the fine line between talking to ease the burden of the mind and overwhelming the mind with knowledge.

"When we get to my cabin I'll make you some cocoa or tea, whichever you prefer, and you can dry off and change in my spare room. Alice left some clothes there if you need to change. Her dresses might be a little small on you, but they'll be dry." Jacob said, not all at once, pacing himself with his words, talking to her softly like when he needed to calm an animal so that he could approach it. He didn't keep his arm on her the entire walk, unless she somehow indicated that she wanted it on her or refused to move. it was not a long walk back to the clearing and through it to the cabin itself. Compared to the cold night, inside the cabin with the fire was comfortably warm.

Taking off his boots he left them on the porch and then gestured for her to do the same. If she didn't he wouldn't push it, she was not really in the state to be cajoled. Once inside Jacob hung his soaked coat and hat on the nails next to the door and then replaced his staff in the umbrella stand with the Henry Rifle, another staff and several actual umbrellas. Striding across the living room he placed several logs on the fire to increase the heat before then leading her down the hall to the first door on the left, the apprentice room.

it wasn't much, barely seven feet wide by ten feet deep, with much of that space taken up with furniture. The bed was a twin size with built in drawers beneath it, the head of the bed set against the wall next to the door. Against the wall at the far end of the room was a desk with a gas lamp on it and a single book placed in the center The Fundamental Primer: Beginner's Guide to Arcana by Jacob Magus read the golden script on the leather bound cover. There was also a waste basket next to the desk and a small window in the top right corner of the room provided some light on normal occasions.

Perhaps the most striking bit of the room was a painting that hung on the right hand wall opposite the bed. It was a painting of a woman who seemed to be pushing an old man into a tree. Something about the women's eyes seemed strange though, as if they were following Everly.

two paintings of the same scene.

 

[Story]

During their trek back through the woods, the hysterical laughter died down, until it was just an occasional tremor through her shoulders and a sudden grin that speared across her face, as if she were remembering something particularly funny. At times, she would glance back over her shoulder, the hilarity dissipating entirely and replaced by something akin to a spooked animal: wide eyes, face pale, lips pinched.

She followed him like someone lost, sticking close, but not close enough to invade his personal space. Her arms were still wound around the duffel bag that she had been hauling around with her that entire time, though by now the ache in her arms from holding onto it had fled back into her senses, leaving her with a feeling of just being numb and cold from being out in the elements.

It wasn’t until they entered the clearing and she could see the cabin in the distance that she hesitated, awareness seeming to flicker back into her expression, her mind registering his words, “Is Alice your wife?” Really, Ever didn’t mean for the question to come out as hopeful as it did. “Daughter?” She turned a more scrutinizing look on his face as if to try and gauge his age.

Regardless, Everly had decided that she was going to take her chances with this strange man than she was back in the woods where those … things had almost eaten her. Stepping into his cabin after him, the heat from inside clashing against the cold from the rain had her shivering in her sodden sneakers. Something she still refused to take off, even to follow his lead; she still wasn’t sure how long she was going to stay here.

“T-thank you for back there, I-I -- what were they? Some kind of wild animal? Do you.. Do you think that I could use your phone?” Despite the shivers, Ever seemed to be coming to now that she was in proximity to things that made sense. And not wandering around lost in the woods. Only her mind was still trying to rationalize what she had just witnessed.

While she followed him through the cabin to the small room, she also seemed to remember her lie. With only a cursory glance around the room, with her sights lingering on the paintings for a longer moment before fixating on the man, she adjusted her bag in her arms and shifted awkwardly. Already she was creating a puddle on his floor.

“Seriously, thank you for that, I.. thought I could make it back to my car. But my husband… I don’t really want him to worry about me, so if I could please borrow your phone, I’ll be out of your hair,” she stumbled through the words. “Let me pay you, even. I have some cash on me, in my bag here…”

 

[CyranoDeBergerac]

Jacob existed in that nebulous phase of aging where he could be anywhere between thirty and fifty. His head was bald, but it was evident from the slight bit of stubble growing there at the end of the day that it was shaved and not natural. His beard was long, going to near mid-chest and there was a slight hint of ruddy red in it, but not a touch of grey. There was not a line on his face but his brown eyes seemed old, as if they had seen things that others could not even fathom and been aged by them. Which they had. Those plain, brown eyes had seen empires rise and fall, seen friend and foe alike breathe their last, and had witnessed gods and monsters the likes of which the world would never see again.

He stood in the doorway of the apprentice's bedroom watching her stand there dripping a puddle on the center of the floor. She had left a trail of mud and water along his hard wood floor. He would need to go back over the floor with magic to clean up all that mess, or clean it himself by hand. There was a distinction between what was and what was not trivial for the use of magic. Though if things went the way he hoped, he would be doing a lot less of the cleaning around here for some time. Looking to his right he considered the painting for a moment before answering her questions. It was a painting of the Beguiling of Merlin, the greatest tragedy in the history of the Council of Mages.

Merlin was one of, if not the, greatest mages in history with many enemies and few weaknesses. He bridged the gap between the Collegium, the association of magic users in the Roman Empire, and the Council, that replaced it and was a more global organization. Merlin's greatest weakness was pretty young women, and incidentally almost everyone of his apprentices shared those two qualities. his last apprentice, Nimue, had enchanted him in every sense of the word and then bound him within a tree. There is an old proverb about 'for want of a nail the kingdom was lost" for want of Merlin the Battle of Camlann was fought, Arthur was lost and the dream of Camelot with it. There are many rules and guidelines that the Council of Mages expects its members to follow, but one of the strictest rules is that, under no circumstances is a master to enter a sexual relationship with his apprentice.

"Alice was my last apprentice, she let some of her apprentice dresses here, figuring that the next apprentice wouldn't want to spend so much time sewing when they could be studying." Jacob almost laughed at that, Alice had spent much of her time as his apprentice either running off to places like Woodstock or the Haight or laying about in one of the fields looking up at the sky while either tripping on LSD or smoking cannabis.

"The creatures in the woods were goblins, a small tribe of them moved into the area a while back. If I had been expecting visitors I would have done more to make sure they were on their best behavior. As for a phone, unfortunately I don't have one. Magic interferes with modern technology, as I'm sure you learned with your car today. Though I don't think your husband will be too worried, assuming he actually exists." Jacob said nodding to her left hand where the absence of a ring spoke volumes. "You can stay here until the storm passes, I expect it to be gone by morning and then I can take you to whereever you wish to go. But I should give you some privacy now to get out of those wet clothes. Let me know if you would like anything." Jacob said moving backwards to go away and shut the door, but moving slow enough that if she wanted to continue talking he would be there.

 

[Story]

“Apprentice?” She echoed back at him, feeling dumb for the question. And then she did not feel so stupid, as his next matter-of-fact reply about goblins had another knot in her belly twisting that she had willingly come inside the cabin of a madman. Beneath the numb that had fallen over her like a mantle, panic was starting to surge again, until that small thread of conscience whispered in her ear.

You know those things in the woods weren’t animals, it whispered to her. Which only led her to believe that, if she was hearing voices in her head, perhaps she was going crazy as well. Or this was a fever dream of some sort and she was either unconscious in her car after having gotten into a bad accident or in a hospital.

Or dead. She could be dead. Jason could have caught up to her and she could be in his trunk, dead. Making this some sort of fucking purgatory, or hell, because she couldn’t imagine heaven being like this.

“OK…” she said slowly, carefully, her only other response to what he was saying to her. Magic. Goblins. Interference with technology. Like they were in Harry Potter world. Eyes wide, she stood still in the middle of the room’s floor until he had backed completely out of the room and shut the door. She sucked in a breath and listened closely to see if she could hear some sort of click, a warning that she was being locked in, then her eyes darted to the single window to gauge whether she would be able to fit through the space or not in case she had to make a run for it.

Hearing nothing but silence once he had left her to her own devices, Ever sagged, finally becoming aware that she was shivering in her wet clothes. Hauling her bag to the bed, she dropped it there and unzipped it, groaning out loud when she reached in to snag some of her own clothes to find them wet as well. On further investigation, she also found that the entire contents of her bag was soaked through from the rain, including the money she had stashed in one of the inside pockets.

A deep seeded sense of failure overtook her, replacing the panic, and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she reached into her pocket to pull out her phone, smearing her fingers over it to -- nothing. Her phone was either dead or drowned from the water, leaving her stranded and at the mercy of this man.

Knowing that she couldn’t stay in what she had on, Ever wandered over to the dresser to see what she could find to wear from this old apprentice. Only to grimace when she plucked out a dress that looked like something her mother would have worn as a teenager, all crochet and flare. And it looked tiny, giving her that squeamish feeling as to just how old Alice the apprentice was.

The more twisted part of her mind could have argued relief if this man was a pedophile; Ever was quite obviously a full grown woman, and not a child.

Setting the garment on the bed, Ever peeled her sodden garments off like snake skin, underwear and all, then used the edge of the bedclothes on the bed to dry off some of the damp from her body before she attempted to struggle into the dress, having to do a little hop around to shimmy the garment up her hips, then beginning to panic when she almost couldn’t squeeze her breasts down into the bodice.

It fit snug. Much more than she was comfortable with, and she briefly debated whether she just wanted to try and climb out of the dress and put her wet clothes back on or not, especially since her fingertips barely brushed the hem of the dress, leaving her pair of toned, sun-kissed legs bare for all to see.

“Come the fuck on,” she hissed, patting herself down to make sure nothing inappropriate was hanging out, while also trying to pull at the bodice to at least give the girls some breathing room inside the garment. Thinking that this was as good as it was going to get, Ever gritted her teeth and opened the door, ignoring the sense of relief that washed over her that she was able to open it.

“Hey,” she called down the hall, memory jogging as she followed the route back to where the living room was. “I just wanted you to know, I lost my wedding ring in the woods, so my husband will be very worried by now. Do you have a phone charger I could use at least so I can see if I can get my phone to work?”

 

[CyranoDeBergerac]

Jacopo Petrelli had been born in Rome in the middle of the Italian Renaissance, he had experienced life at the courts of wealthy noblemen and life on the streets of one of the most beautiful cities in the world. His early life had been spent travelling through Italy, seeing all of the great Italian cities while learning from itinerant thieves, tinsmith's and other shady types that moved between the various republics, duchies and war torn estates all throughout Northern Italy. Then when he was thirteen his godmother, who just happened to be a fairy, came to him and told him about his father and took him off to the alternate plane of existence where his father was essentially a god-king.

Time did not flow in that land the same way it did elsewhere, ages and ages past while he was lost there a boy without a mother adventuring with other motherless boys, fighting pirates, dancing with aborigines, flirting with fairies and learning the ways of fey magic. Yet, when he turned fifteen and it was time for him to to set aside that world of adventure and return to Earth only two years had passed and he was just another fifteen year old boy in Italy, keen to the world of magic but feeling a stranger in the world of men. He had met his master there in Italy, Gerald FitzGerald, the 11th Earl of Kildare, also called the Wizard Earl, who was in exile in Italy and had learned to be a master mage in his time away from Ireland. By the time Jacopo was twenty-one he was a master mage himself and going by the name Jacob Magus while travelling throughout Europe to learn more magic.

During his time in Europe he had gained a bit of a womanizer, after all he was a handsome young man, with faeries not being famous for being the most monogamous of folk. All of this was a very long way of saying that when Ever walked into the living room Jacob was very skilled at noticing everything a man would want to notice without appearing to have looked up from his book.

From the moment he had walked away from the bedroom Jacob had gone about making the place seem as normal as possible, and as welcoming as good be. He had added a few more logs to the fire, plus starting to boil milk for hot cocoa, throwing in chocolate and a bit of sugar for taste. The pot heated over the gas stove in the kitchenette, just behind where Jacob sat reading from a grimoire. There was no real distance between the door to the apprentice's bedroom and the living room, with he kitchenette next to the hallway. Perhaps two three steps and she would be standing where the three spaces met. The air smelled of chocolate and of the smoke from the fire, plus the leather and paper from the books ringing the walls.

His shelves were filled to the brim with books from all ages, first editions of some of Isaac Newton's works all signed by the author, mingled with books of magic, Darwin's On the Origins of Species, history books, and works from experts on just about every topic worth knowing in the past four hundred years. Whatever subject was her poison, he did not doubt he had a book written by the 'father' of whatever field it was. though he had far more books than this cabin could hold and so he had to have others stored elsewhere.

He sighed lightly and closed his book, setting it on the stand next to his favorite reading chair, and then turned slightly to look at her, eyes locking with hers. He tried to keep his face even, avoiding any expressions that might be fearsome. "I'm sorry, I know this all is a lot for you to take in. But I was not joking when I said that modern technology does not mix with magic. There are a few outlets around the cabin, but I don't have a phone that would work for you. Though I'm afraid your phone is most likely inoperable, even if I did have a charger for you." He said this all like a father talking to a young daughter as he stood from his chair, towering over her without meaning to as he moved towards the kitchen now that the cocoa was done.

Ordinarily he would not waste magical energy for simple things like moving cups, but he felt it was the least shocking way he could demonstrate magic to her. He took the pot of hot cocoa from the stove and with the gesture of his hand opened the cupboard door that contained mugs and called two of them out, floating them to him and then using his power to pour the cocoa into both of their cups before sending her cup to her, ready to catch it magically in case she dropped it. The floor was still wet from her not taking off her shoes and there was a trail of mud as well.

"I do have a scrying mirror that you might be able to use. To see your husband and communicate with him if you think he could keep a secret. " Jacob added as he sipped his cocoa, sweet, but not over-overpoweringly so, keeping as much of his suspicion that her husband was a fabrication out of his voice as possible.

 

[Story]

No matter that the man was acting the perfect gentleman, Ever was all too aware of just how tightly the dress fit her. More importantly, when she had tried to put her bra and underwear back on, they had been just as soaked through as the rest of her clothes, and so she had taken them right back off. And now regretted her decision, all things considered. Better be uncomfortable and damp than feeling vulnerable and exposed. Not having properly dried herself off from the rain didn’t help, either. Her nipples clearly peeked through the thin material of the dress. Reflexively, Ever crossed her arms over her chest that now felt much larger than she had ever considered due to how tightly the bodice fit, and made sure to walk slowly so that the hem of the garment did not ride up any further.

It created an awkward shuffle as she wandered deeper into his living room and into the aroma of melted chocolate and firewood. Without trying to be too obvious, she moved close to the heat where she opted to continue her awkward stance, green eyes wandering over the shelves lined with books, the homely man cave presence of his living area. It was rustic in its appearance, like something out of a fairy tale.

Absently, and perhaps nervously as well, she tucked a wet strand of dark hair behind her ear when her gaze fell on the puddle she had left on the floor along with the mud. Guilt assuaged her, making her flush in embarrassment at how rude she had been acting.

Her eyes lifted back up to his when he spoke, talking again about magic. Ever fidgeted in her little bubble of awkwardness and dragged her lower lip between her teeth to worry it as she considered how to reply to him. Only to find her mouth gaping open when the his cabinet opened without him touching it and a mug came bouncing out like this was the fucking Sword and the Stone in Merlin’s house. Or was it Madame Mim’s?

Ever almost didn’t catch the mug as it bobbed through the air toward her. The shell shocked expression had returned to her face, and on impulse her hands flexed, snatching the mug out of the air and holding it out, staring at it as if it might grow teeth and a mouth and bite her hand.

“I’m either dead or in a coma,” she uttered, mostly to herself. “Or this is a fever dream.” It was back to that theory now.

And yet somehow that calmed her, thinking in her mind that none of this was real. Like the realization after getting closure that she would die soon, or else wake up somewhere that was not here.

“Of course there is a scrying mirror,” she said hollowly. “None of this is real. This is like a Disney movie gone completely wrong. So more like a Brothers Grimm story. I’m dreaming.”

And maybe she could magically conjure herself up a fake husband to talk to her via a scrying mirror. Although … the cocoa did smell all too real. Laughing nervously underneath her breath, she lifted it up, expecting it to be a normal temperature, only to take a sip and have it scald her tongue.

A realistic dream. She shouldn’t have been able to feel anything if she were dead or this was a dream though, right?

“I need to sit down,” she mumbled, glancing around, before moving over to where he had previously occupied and sinking down into the chair. And while Ever processed, she turned her face up, staring at him with an intense look as if trying to determine if she focused hard enough, he would just disappear or change shape.

 

[CyranoDeBergerac]

Jacob also keenly noted what Ever was wearing, or what she wasn't wearing rather, but he had been practicing his poker face in such regards for over four hundred years. One of the things he had learned from having multiple female apprentices over the years was that there was always an adjustment period to the relationship. Occasionally it developed into almost a father-daughter relationship, or the two got so comfortable around each other that almost all boundaries fell down, the taboo on relationships so ingrained that they didn't even consider each other in that fashion. The sexual tension that might develop typically disappeared within a year, but during that year Jacob found that one or both of them typically enjoyed the view as stealthily as possible. so he felt no guilt in taking in the view as stealthily as he could.

Despite everything on display, Jacob found his eyes fixing on her remarkable green eyes, and the way her wet hair framed her face. His own coat had kept his clothes from getting wet, leaving him in the plaid shirt and jeans that made him look like a backwoodsmen or farmer from the 1950's. HJis eyes did go to the trail of water and mud, but he didn't say anything. Chores would happen when they happened. Until then there was no reason to act like the taskmaster some of his apprentices liked to tease he was.

He stood behind the counter in the kitchenette giving her her space to get acclimated. The floor of his cabin was hardwood, but he did have a rug beneath the seats by the fire. There were two seats there, one his reading chair and the other a comfortable, but old, wood one. there was also a rocking chair out on the porch. His eyebrow twitched slightly when she deposited her beautiful body in his chair, but he said nothing. Just sipping his cocoa.

A smile curved up slightly on his lips when she continued to think that this was a fever dream, or coma or something of that sort. It was also entertaining that she was partially talking to herself. Some of his cocoa remained on his mustache dampening it.

When she mentioned the Brothers Grimm he smiled and commented, "Ludwig Carl and Wilhelm, good men," he pronounced their names in the German fashion with the w's sounding like v's. "Helped me out with a problem or two once upon a time, me them through an old flame actually, they gave me this as a birthday gift actually." Jacob said gesturing with his freehand and a old book, almost all of his books looked old, gently floated off the shelf of the back wall and landed in her lap. It was a green and gold book, well-maintained despite its age. The title was in German "Kinder-und Hausmarchen" or Children and household Tales, Volume I.

When she fixed himm with that intense stare he needed to remind himself that she was going to be his apprentice, not his lover.

"If you're trying to cast on me, you're going to need to practice a bit more first. And probably rest, I wouldn't doubt that your body might be a little exhausted after two castings in a day. Also if you want to know if you're in a dream or not you could always try to read. People don't read in dreams, or so I'm told." The idea that she couldn't read German never occurred to him. he had grown up in a time where people became polyglots as a matter of course and need for survival, and most of his apprentices had come to him ready to learn so they had done the background work of teaching themselves how to read at least one or two other languages.

 

[Story]

Her nose wrinkled in frustration when it turned out that she could not will the man out of her dream, which was what she was still trying to convince herself it was. The alternative wasn’t sitting well with her, even though curiosity prickled in the back of her mind, forming a confusing image in her mind’s eye of some of the mysteries surrounding her own existence. Ever had experienced the unknown more often than she cared to count, things she shrugged off as not being all that unusual at all.

Like the times Jason had come after her and she had somehow deflected his advances, which had only really served at pissing him off even more. It was one of the reasons why she was here in the first place, to get away.

“Did you slip me something?” She finally asked; the other acceptable reason for what she had witnessed in the woods and why she thought that the cup of cocoa in her hands had floated there from across the room. “Drugs? Why am I here? Who are you even?”

Apparently, Ever had tossed being cautious out the window and replaced it with a blunt tongue as she spoke to him now. She shifted to the edge of the chair she had sunk into, ready to spring back up to her feet, when the book landed right in her lap. She jerked, startled, and the cocoa that she had been clutching spilled across the front of the dress.

“Oh fuck,” she hissed, rising up again and setting the mug down hastily as she used the palm of her hand to … well, she smeared it even more across her front instead of doing any good.

Closing her eyes, she sucked in a deep breath against the feeling of her throat closing not for the first time that night. She would not cry again, no matter how frustrating and confusing her situation was. She was not going to lose her shit. Instead, she blinked furiously to keep the tears at bay and looked at him again, her voice thicker than it was before.

“Look, I don’t know what you want, or if this is even real, but you aren’t making a lot of sense. I really just want to leave. You said that you would take me anywhere that I wanted in the morning, right? Does it have to wait until the morning? I just … I don’t …” She trailed off, sniffling, and swiped the back of her hand across her eyes. “I’m sorry, but I’ve already had a bad day. So what? Do you keep young girls in here? Are you going to kill me? What is your deal?”

 

[CyranoDeBergerac]

Jacob knew that it wasn't going to be as easy as ihe thought it would. It never seemed to go easy when women were involved. but he really should have waited until she was done with her cocoa before sending a thick, first edition book published two hundred years into her lap. Jacob bolted to attention when he saw those drops of cocoa fly he almost tossed his book back onto the shelf at a dangerous speed to prevent it from being damaged. But fortunately she managed to take it all on her chest and avoid damaging the book.

Setting his cup of cocoa down on the counter he walked carefully towards the chair and picked up Grimms' Fairy Tales and his grimoire and walked them back to the places on the shelves they belonged. Then he turned and moved the wooden chair so that he was right in front of her and took his seat, bending over so that he was looking her right in the eyes. Then he reached out and offered his hands, palms up, for her to place her hands in if she wished. Which he doubted she would at first. Then he started talking, using his 'calming down a stubborn mare' voice.

"Ever if you take my hands I will show you that magic is real, in a way that is different than the little cantrips I've shown you so far. In a way that's a bit more convincing than being attacked by goblin's or seeing me perform a few little tricks. There is a power in this world, a power that allows some people with preternatural ability to connect to it, and work wondrous things. I have reason to believe that you are such a person that has a preternatural ability. You have demonstrated two things that make me think that. The first, is that you're here at all. Leaving aside all of the parts involving magic that would make you being here uninvited impossible. You and I both know that you did not walk twenty-five miles through the mountains in this storm in a few hours. The second is that when those goblins attacked you at first, the first three ended up writhing on the ground wreathed by lightning. I know you saw it."

He paused for a second to breathe. "As for my deal, I don't keep young girls here, Alice was my last apprentice and happened to be relatively diminutive in size. But I promise you she was an adult. As for any sexual implication, master and apprentice sexual relationships are forbidden, so that thought never even crossed my mind. And I'm certainly not going to kill you. What I want, is for you to see the potential you can reach and to allow me to teach you how to reach that potential. But my offer stands, if you want nothing to do with this I'll take you anywhere in the world you would desire tomorrow morning, and even clear your memory of this event ever happening. But firsst, I just ask you take my hands for a moment." At that last request he began to focus some of the magical energy in his body into his hands and they started to glow.

If she were to take his hands, even for a moment or two, he would have enough time to focus some of that energy into her, and her whole body would start to glow. She would feel warm, she would feel the power flowing through her, her senses would be heightened, her pains and senses forgotten for a moment, and she would be able to feel the beginning of that connection to that incredible power. Accessing magic is also a bit of an aphrodisiac for inexperienced users, which might cause other unexpected side effects. The point being, it would feel amazing and expand her horizons to a new reality for as long as she kept in touch with either his hands, or the energy he'd just opened up to her.

 

[Story]

She looked more like a lost, somewhat drowned kitten rather than a stubborn mare and with her eyes leaking tears again and supporting bags underneath them, she was looking a little worse for the wear. She had sunk back down in the chair, now with a cocoa stain down her front as her brain snapped back to attention while she rode this mental roller coaster. This time, she listened to him when he spoke.

Eyes still watery, she studied his face through blurred vision, but at close proximity. Now that he wasn’t towering over her, she could make out some of the details that she had been missing, such as he had what her grandma would refer to as an ‘old spirit’ in his eyes, though his face was not so old as she had thought, despite the mountain man beard and shaved head that made him look both older and more fierce.

Shifting awkwardly from both his calming tone and words, and after much hesitation, Ever finally slipped her hands from where they were settled in her lap and lay them, cold and clammy, in his. She wasn’t about to hold his hand, but she did rest her fingertips along the palms of his larger hands.

The skepticism and uncertainty that danced in jade green depths soon vanished, replaced by a flare of shock that widened her eyes and dilated her pupils. Her sudden intake of breath, nostrils flaring, and the fact that her fingers curled around his, squeezing as if to steady herself from the rush that tingled across her skin and had her sitting up a little straighter in the chair, was evidence that she had felt whatever he had done.

Her attention dropped after a moment, down to where her skin had lit up, peach and rose illuminating underneath her skin like she was a lantern. She gasped, shuddering, her nails digging into his skin as if she were trying to decide if she were going to panic or something else entirely.

“Are you sure that I’m not dead and you are a fellow ghost?” She whispered the words, again trying to convince herself that this was the most believable than the course of power that hummed through her.

 

[CyranoDeBergerac]

There was laughter in his dark eyes as she asked him whether they were ghosts. Though it didn't spread to his face or his lips. He was a man not accustomed to smiling or laughing. But he enjoyed humor just as much as the next man. He had drunk, partied and fornicated his way through the entire Italian Renaissance and into the Baroque period after all. To say that he didn't enjoy her placing her hands in his and him being able to share that sensation of magic flowing into her would be a gross lie.

"Ever, I promise you, if something had come along to make me a ghost I assure you we'd be haunting a crater and not sitting relatively comfortably in my cabin. Now I understand that this series of events and revelations have been fairly exhausting for you. I imagine most women would have dropped from exhaustion long before you . It really is quite impressive. At this point though, I think it would probably be best if you do three things. First, accept that this is your new reality. Because you are not going to be able to change that basic fact. Second, change into a clean dress, I find sleeping in dirty clothes leaves one feeling less human when they wake up. Third, have a good night's sleep. Don't bother reading the book on magic on the desk, just sleep and regain your energy and do not wake up until you can smell my delicious buttermilk pancakes, bacon and eggs. How does that sound to you ever?" His voice, had a slow, rhythmical cadence to it, as he spoke to her in as soft of tones as he could manage.

His eyes caught hers and he held her gaze. His irises moved slightly from side to side, like the watch a hypnotist used. He could have used illusion magic to make her feel more tired and complacent, some illussionists were so skilled that they could make a person do almost anything. Those illussionists tended to cross the line and end up dead at his feet though. He wasn't doing anything approaching that. All he did was natural hypnosis to try to get her to relax naturally for her own benefit. he had no untoward intentions, only wishing to alow the girl to set aside her concerns for a moment and ejoy a night of resftul sleep.

 

[Story]

For what it was worth, the sound of his voice was soothing with its deep baritone. Or perhaps it was the surge of warmth that had her nerve endings tingling, starting from where their hands joined still, almost like a fever. And she was still glowing from it. The tightly drawn expression on her face had relaxed and her green eyes darkened as they searched the face that was so close to her own.

“You don’t look as intimidating up close as you did,” she admitted, her voice a low murmur. “And if you lose the mountain man beard and let your hair grow out, you’re probably even a handsome devil, aren’t you?”

Right before she realized that she was talking. Out loud. So that he could hear. Her musings were cut short with a gasp and she finally slid her hands from the warmth of his, severing the odd connection that had formed between them. Only the flush that crawled up to her face didn’t fade along with it -- and regardless of any feelings of embarrassment, Ever wasn’t looking her best.

Feverish, even a little waxy.

“Oh… uh-huh.” She was impressive. Head swimming, she rose up from his chair again. Only as soon as her bare feet stepped forward, she was swaying, the swimming in her head turning into the room spinning around her.

“Yeah, I need sleep,” her voice echoed in her ears. And Ever sat right back down in the chair, eyes closing. “I just need a minute,” she promised, head leaning back, both her hands lifting to press against her face.

Burning up. Her face was burning up. Shivering, she started to curl her legs up, then stopped and lowered her hands, eyes creaking open. “Hey, do you have anything else that I can wear? Then I can get to bed…”

 

[CyranoDeBergerac]

Jacob was a bit surprised at the words that flowed out of her mouth. She had certainly not seemed the type that would find him attractive a moment ago. But he recognized the flush that came to her face in a moment. Touching magic, feeling that energy and power, feeling that connection to life, it was a powerful aphrodisiac. Especially for those who weren't used to it. There were some who theorized that sex magic was the earliest kind of magic for that very reason. It was rarely practiced however, and one needed a special dispensation from the Council before they could begin teaching that kind of magic with an apprentice. And even then only continue if they showed a proficiency with it.

He stood up when she looked like she was about to fall. Hoping to catch her. but fortunately she landed back in his chair without hurting herself or the chair. He was towering over her again, but not in the ominous way, he was just a tall man is all. he did find her comments on his appearance funny though, He had started shaving his head after Alice left. He told everyone it was because it allowed him to put battle runes on more skin, but in reality it was because it was easier to just shave every morning than to bother cutting his own hair or going elsewhere to have it cut. The beard was just wizard fashion.

When she asked if he had any other clothes he shook his head. "All I have are the apprentice dresses Alice left here. haven't had a male apprentice in over a century. If you're having trouble walking I can carry you to the room it wouldn't be a problem." Jacob said offering her his hand to try and help. The sheer size difference between them made proportions awkward, especially with her sitting and him standing. If she was struggling with amorous thoughts now, it might not be the best position for them to be in, with her at eye level. Especially since she had just nearly shown him how little she was wearing under that small dress.

"If you like I could send for someone to bring fabric for you to sew your own dresses." He suggested waiting to see what she did.

 

[Story]

Her brows knitted together at his words and she kept her eyes closed for a moment longer before she forced them open again. Gripping either arm of the chair, Ever dragged herself back to her feet and wobbled there, determined not to embarrass herself any more than she already. She blamed the entire episode on the day, and the rain, and the energy sapping trek through the woods to get here in the first place.

She grunted at him when he suggested that he could carry her, her cheeks coloring again in embarrassment. Ever started to shake her head, but then stopped herself, and started shuffling back towards the room where she had thrown her bag into, “No, you don’t have to carry me. That’s ridiculous,” she murmured.

“I can take one of your shirts, if you don’t mind,” she mumbled that one out when he responded that he only had dresses like what she was currently wearing, a size or two too small, when all Ever wanted to crawl into were her PJs and sleep for a couple of weeks. She had a pair, she knew -- but they were currently wet. She wondered if the man had a dryer she could toss all her wet clothes into so that she had something decent to wear in the morning.

“Can I use your dryer?” she asked as an afterthought, swaying in place now that she could stand, somewhere in the middle of his living room. She had that glassy eyed look in her eye now and a waxy pallor along with high color. “Or let me guess -- you don’t have one of those either. I have clothes, they’re just wet. So yeah… just a shirt or something until I can dry out what I have is fine. I definitely don’t need to sew my own clothes,” she snorted, derisive.

She was creeping away from him little by little, until she found a wall to prop herself up against to wait to see what he said.

 

[CyranoDeBergerac]

In many ways Jacob was still a traditionalist at heart, and part of the traditional attire of the apprentice was white clothes, especially white clothes that were magically neutral. Some fabrics and materials, especially metals and blends, could throw off spells or draw magical energy too them, almost like static electricity. A more skilled magic user could avoid these issues, but that would usually take at least a year of training. Even with that, when Jacob had an apprentice he avoided wearing metals that he couldn't remove quickly. Of course, there was the other consideration of her wearing one of his shirts, namely the implication, which certainly wasn't a new one. However, since he doubted that any attraction she had for him was anything but left over aphrodisiac from magic use, he ended up deciding there was no harm to it.

"Certainly, you can use my dryer, you'll just have to wait for it to come out from behind the clouds." He said pausing for a second to see her reaction before laughing with his yes. " The modern dryer was invented in 1938, my former apprentice Amelia gave me one as a birthday present. It's in my room though, you can drop your clothes off while I find an old shirt for you if that's alright." Jacob said as he watched her creep away from him, not sure if she was scared of him or feeling some other emotion.

Either way he started walking down the hall and walked past her to open the door to his room. It was much larger than her room, taking up about the same amount of space as the livign room, only flipped sideways. The whole cabin made a slight L shape. The largest piece of furniture in the room was a king sized bed with a bear skin blanket on it that looked very warm. Hanging above the bed was a portrait of him with twenty men and women, all dressed from different time periods, and then another man who looked like he was dressed like some kind of knight or lord stanidng behind him. There was a dresser to the left when you opened the door and a closet in the right hand wall that contained the dryer and washer. He went to the closet and found a plaid button down shirt and removed it turning to the door to give it to her. If she was in her room he would bring it to her, and if she was int he doorway to his room he'd give it to her there.

 

[Story]

What Ever wanted to do was crawl into a bed - any bed - and pass out. But that was an idea that had settled in her thoughts the moment she had stopped touching him. Her feet belt like lead and she still felt woozy, like the elements were creeping up on her. A sick feeling. It wouldn’t surprise her, since she had been out in the rain for longer than was healthy, then the trekking through the forest, then the mental stress that had been wearing on her for -- well, a long time now, if she was honest with herself.

Sniffling, she dragged herself back to the room he’d first led her two and where her belongings were. At first, she knelt beside the duffel bag and started pulling out her soggy garments… then thought better of what she was doing and just threw her wet clothes that she had worn that day into the bag and dragged the whole thing back out of the room and to his.

She hesitated in the doorway, taking a moment to glance around, then eyed him sheepishly as he pulled the plaid down and approached her with it. “Thanks,” she mumbled, then hefted up her bag. “And thank you for letting me dry my clothes here. That’s actually really generous of you.”

She’d haul the whole thing over to where she had spotted the old timey washer and dryer. With one hand, she jerked down the too short dress to make sure that it continued to cover her entire backside, then she crouched down and began dragging the wet clothes from the bag and tossing them into the dryer. Though the last item she pulled out was a small pistol; not a modern gun, but one that had a flintlock. Holding it up, she was investigating whether or not it had been damaged at all.

Then glancing guiltily back at the man, she pulled herself back to her feet and started the dryer, gun tucked away back in her bag. “Uh, I’ll return your shirt tomorrow morning when my clothes are dry, OK? Thanks again.”

She smiled. It wasn’t much of one, but she did smile as she moved back around him and back into the haul. “I have questions…” She started, then trailed off. “But I think I might literally die if I don’t lay down, so don’t go anywhere until I get up,” she joked, badly. Yeah, Ever was out of it enough that she was running her mouth in awkward ways.

 

[CyranoDeBergerac]

Jacob raised an eyebrow at the sight of the flintlock, a pistol on its own would have been ordinary enough for her to have, though still worth notice, but the flintlock, which was certainly useless from water damage until more powder was acquired was a mystery unto itself. He hadn't seen one of those in the hand of a mortal in a little less than two hundred years, and about a hundred years since he'd seen them in the hands of anyone on Earth using them in any serious way. Of course, he could always go to Neverland if he wanted to see semi-mortal pirates shooting them at semi-mortal children. But now was hardly the time for visits to old friends.

Jacob also noticed how the dress left little to the imagination when it came to just about everything. Certainly something worth seeing, not that he ogled her or anything perverse like that. When she dropped down to put the clothes in the dryer his eyes dropped for a second and then came back up again. The dryer let off a slight rumble as it turned, heating and drying the clothes. It was magically silenced of course, and he had Amelia to thank for that. His former apprentice was a master enchantress when it came to melding magic with modern technology.

Jacob nodded when she mentioned having questions. "And I have answers, in the morning." He said nodding to her as he watched her leave.

Once she was in the room Jacob left his own and went back to the living room, putting two more logs on the fire so that the house would stay warm, then he dimmed the lights down low in case he needed to come out at night, or if she needed to use the restroom in the night. As he walked past her room he leaned his head against the door to see if she had gone to sleep or if she had given into the temptation to look at his beginner's guide to the arcana. If she did she would find that the introduction and first chapter would describe how she could focus her energy to make her hand glow like he had and the eight schools of magic.

They had never told Jacob about it, but hhis female apprentices had gotten together several times and talked about their experiences of being his apprentice and one of the unifying things they found was swearing that the painting of Nimue talked to them, telling them to do dirty things, and they blamed the frequent - erotic- dreams on that combined with the stress and exertion from the training and magic.

Upon finding his answer Jacob continued on to his bedroom and changed into his night clothes and then slipped beneath the bear skin blanket and drifted off to sleep.

Morning came early to Jacob with the sound of the cock crowing cutting through the light pitter patter of rain on the roof of the cabin. Slipping into a pair of jeans, a belt and another flannel shirt Jacob stepped from his room in the early light of morning. He noticed the trail of now dried mud leading from her bedroom to the door, but made no comment, figuring she would need to sleep in far longer than an old man like him. Instead he came to the front door and slid on his boots, jacket and hat and lit out from the house. He followed a trail behind his cabin's clearing that led to another clearing where there were stables, a paddock and a chicken coop.

Jacob's morning consisted of milking the cows, feeding the animals, collecting the eggs and the other activities that kept the small farm he had for his own consumption running. When he returned to the cabin the rain had lessened a bit more, but was still not finished, and the sun was peaking through the clouds. He poured the pail of milk into a pitcher and then left the pail beside the door, the eggs filled up a carton. Then he went about cooking breakfast. By the time Ever was eady to leave her room the cabin was filled with the smell of buttermilk pancakes, juicy bacon, scrambled eggs and toast. Not to mention butter, jam, syrup and coffee.