Little Shop of Bad Ideas [Lyra]

[Fawn]

Oh, You Sweet Summer Child.

31st of Frost, 120

Perhaps it was against her better judgement. It wasn't snowing but Fawn had spent the previous night washing her cloak, a scarf, and a few of her warmer clothes and they were no where near dry, so as she rushed out into the the city the Frost wind nipped at her nose and fingertips like a rabid dog. She wore a knee length long sleeved blue linen dress over a cream blouse with a new set of brown frost stockings that she'd procured the day before fitted inside her worn boots. They kept her toes warm, but her hands were another story. But no amount of cold could sink the gingers spirits after the nearly perfect first two days she'd managed to fetch herself. Fiery ringlets bounced atop her shivering shoulders as she trotted her way down the street with a map, procured earlier that morning from the dumpling shop owner, along with a warning 'Don't run on an empty stomach!' and a fresh steaming pork dumping.

She couldn't wait to write home! She'd made it to the city, gotten a job, purchased clothing, and even made some new friends along the way. All in all everything was looking up.
And, although she was running a little low on gold, she still had enough at least for a small stack of parchment.

She rounded the corner past the first tavern, nearly slipping on a small patch of ice as her worn boots lost traction, and shouted out as the warm dumpling she clutched in her hand nearly fell to the ground caught in the last second by the tip of her boot. She stared at it while her other hand clutched the side of a lamppost and let a hearty laugh release from her lungs into the frost. Nothing she hadn't risked before, she thought to herself, and picked it back up swiftly to shove the rest of it down her gullet. With a skip forward she ignored the mostly disgusted faces of passerbys who had witnessed the event and continued into the city.

Very soon the expanse of the Jeweled Arches and all of it's guests came into view. Lit by both laughter and the hazy sky, hundreds of people flocked the marketplace while merchants screamed their sales into the air with a bright glee that made you forget how overcast it had become. Fawn smiled as she rubbed her arms with chilled fingers and snaked through a few shoppers near a pawn shop who argued over whether or not 10 gold was a fair price for a doll. A smile crept up her lips as she passed. It was like when her uncle would haggle for their goats- she knew they'd always agree on ten pieces per goat, but he still nonetheless always started by trying to drive down a bargain. In some ways, the city was not so unlike home. noticing the desired location only two blocks ahead and sprinting towards it's entrance with a vigor that could only be described as 'screw the cold'.

The shop bell chimed as she flung the door open haphazardly and nearly slammed it behind her and slid up against the back of it. The warmth of the shop began to prick at her skin and send hot relief through the girls frozen, reddened flesh to her bones, pulling a content sigh from her throat as she stepped further inside with frost-flushed cheeks, headed straight ahead as the hallway directed her.

[Theme Song]

[Lyra]

Lyra absently spun the quill in her fingers as she stared down at the parchment before her. On it was a design, an elaborate one that was a modification on the circle of minding utilized in artificial soul constructs. The ink she utilized was of the ordinary variety, and the parchment itself was cheap stock. Both were fine of course, for what Lyra worked on now as a simple sketch of a design she would later implement in her lab. She continued to run into similar problems every time she attempted the Soul Space. The design burned up the moment she made the connection with the soul at its center. Lyra had tried several types of ink, infused and spellwright. She had made the design on parchment and paper of magical and mundane nature, and even carved them into stone. Each time however had proven the same. She could create the Soul Space, but could not maintain it for any length of time. This left but one conclusion...

"The schema is flawed." Lyra said with a sigh. On the paper the glyph was a large circle made by 2 braded lines. From those braded lines expanded a series of tree like drawings that entwined branches to form a third, larger circle. The roots of the tree reached inward, forming grasping finger like appendages that all encircles a small point at the very center which held a simple diamond shape. Between the trees were other pictographs woven in from smoke like tendrils. Little fireflies with spiraling designs that touched and mingled with waving lines that were reminiscent to smoke. Around the entire circle was a series of singular dots, which when inspected closer were actually smaller stars that were linked together in a series like shooting stars.

Around her shoulder's Artur poked his head through Lyra's hair, staring unblinking at the page as if he might offer some thought to its workings. With a smile Lyra patted his head, "Perhaps it is simpler than I imagine?" She waited, expectantly, but of course the doll did not reply.

With a sigh Lyra set her quill down and stretched. Her eyes ran over the series of dot like tattoos that rained over every inch of visible skin, including across her nose, at the corners of her eyes and mouth, and even the palms of her hands. Those would need to be retouched soon she knew. The rot was already beginning to spread.

The sound of her shop door banging open made Lyra jump in surprise. She stood, staring at the hallway to the front door, and frowned disapprovingly as a young woman made herself known.

"Welcome," Lyra said, though her tone was anything but welcoming. In her current vessel Lyra appeared to be human, just a bit taller than her guest, with dark hair tied back in a ponytail. Lyra carefully removed the glasses from her eyes, storing them in one pocket before she sat down once more at her desk, "Care I not to have my shop destroyed by negligent hands... Tell me what it is you wish so I may provide it and you can leave."

Artur flicked his tongue out at the woman, his black scales almost blending in with the black robes which Lyra wore, especially hidden as he was in the hood.

"Lady of Whispers"

[Fawn]

Oh, You Sweet Summer Child.

31st of Frost, 120

Maybe if she'd known exactly who it was that owned this shop she wouldn't have walked in. But as it stood Fawn was as clueless as ever as she pulled her shoulders up to her face and rubbed the life back into her limbs. The shop was quiet. It kept out much of the noise of the busy streets, but there was still a coldness to the air. Not in temperature, but sort of cold you feel when walking into a dead forest at night, or when you peer into the depths of your own nightmares as if asking it to show you why you should be scared. It was the kind of cold that kept tiny goosebumps on the girl as she took a few steps into the shop against the warning bells echoing in her mind.

The voice of the shopkeepers equally bitter voice casting a brief stab of guilt to her pulled a sheepish grin from the farmgirl as she approached the desk where Lyra had sat.

"I'm sorry, the cold is making it hard to feel things correctly." Fawn said, pulling both hands to her lips and cupping them to waken the chill in her flesh. "I've just come for parchment and a pen set, about 50 sheets and some ink should do."

Though, the woman was stunning. She had a dark, shielded beauty to her that reminded her a lot of Marina, or of a raven, both creatures of which held such mystery and guile it had sparked a curiosity in Fawn she never knew she'd had. A bittersweet smile pulled at the corners of her cheeks as she looked away from the woman in favor of the shop- lest her blushing cheeks give her away. But lucky for her she had the cold to thank for a perfect disguise. As she looked around the shop in search of her paper, which she found within seconds just a few feet from the beauty of a woman, her eyes were drawn to the countless books, scrolls, and magic items carefully organized on rich wooden shelves that towered over Fawn like ancient trees. Her feet carried her softly across the hallway and she stretched a hand out to run her slowly warming fingers across the wood grain of the shelves as she came to the back room, whos walls were lined with hundreds of grimoire's and scrolls the likes of which Fawn had never dreamed existed.

Her eyes were wide and focused on a particularly bold, bright red book with gold leafing on the spine who's title was written in such a language she would only describe as 'scribbles'. She reached for it. Her hand touched the tip of the spine and she bent it forwards to pull it out. It smelled like old leather, champagne, and a slow burning hearth in Ash. It felt like the nothing, like everything, like the weight of the world captured inside a feather.

"...What is this?" She asked, looking up from the treasure she'd found and meeting the eyes of the shopkeeper.

[Theme Song]

[Lyra]

With annoyance, Lyra realized that the woman had no intention of leaving. She narrowed her eyes, but after a moment sighed and waved her hand at the girl, indicating the shelves to her left.

"Ink and paper of common stock can be found here. Middle shelves are mundane, and upper contains various infused inks. Do not touch the vials behind the glass."

With that Lyra turned her attention back to her work, eyeing the schema with equal annoyance as she had the girl. She knew she was close, yet there was something missing still. Quickly becoming engrossed once more, when the woman spoke again Lyra glanced up prepared to be rid of the nuisance once and for all, but was surprised to find that she had somehow made her way all the way to the end of the shop.

Lyra stood, using the table for support as she planned the admonishment of a lifetime for the child, yet she paused when she saw what the girl held. Catching Fawn's eyes Lyra unintentionally softened her gaze, old habits showing through as she walked forward and examined the cover.

"It is a Grimore." The word was stated plainly as if it were completely obvious, but one look at the girl's expression told Lyra that it wouldn't be enough. She continued in a slightly less harsh tone, "You can consider it... a tome of spells. They are made to assist a mage in their arts, hold their secrets and protect them in some cases. This particular one..." She extended her hand for the book, turning it over and examining the cover, "It is intended for an elemental mage. It will store their works of magic, much like a spell scroll will, for use at a later time. Though each spell consumes a page of the Grimore."

On the cover of the book was a stylized depiction of a flame wrapped in smoke. Lyra ran her thumb over another, much smaller glyph at the base of the spine, in the shape of a coiled snake with no eyes. The glyphs on the surface of the Grimore came alight with an orange glow before the book opened with a flurry of pages, stopping on one page near the center, "The cover is made with flame infused oak, the leather, and paper both come from the Second Deep of the Warren, the plane of fire. This Grimore is resistant to burning, and can even give off a steady warmth if the user desires. It is powered by two lesser Pyrolyte dragonshards embedded in front and back covers. I took the liberty of adding in a few simple schemas for utility."

Once more Lyra pressed her finger against a particular part of the pictograph on the open page, and a series of lines began to glow as a small flame flicked to life at the top of the page, where a spirling pictograph rested. When she removed her finger the flame went out, and she closed the book with a snap.

"That said, I believe you are here for ink and parchment. They are at the front, where you should be now." Lyra said, the soft expression gone to be replaced by a stern one instead.

[Fawn]

Oh, You Sweet Summer Child.

31st of Frost, 120

xxxFawn's fingers stroked the cover of the book delicately, as if petting a baby bird and watched as Lyra approached. For a moment she couldn't tell which was more exquisite; the book, or the woman. But her thirst for knowledge chose the former for the moment as the woman's expression softened and she began to describe in intricate detail what it was exactly that she had grabbed.

xxx"Grimoire...?" She questioned softly, raising a brow. She'd heard the term before, but, never truly known what it had meant, and so she handed the book over to the woman with eagerness. The book was ancient, new, and everything in between. She could feel something around it as if the air itself was different and her heart raced as the woman turned it's cover over to reveal the intricate designs. Her eyes were fixated on the book as if in a trance and her breath hung on every word that passed through Lyra's lips. Though, she had no idea what a 'Pyrolyte' meant, nor how it related to a dragonshard, or even what exactly a dragonshard was, but still she clung to the woman's explanation. It had only been in a few childrens stories and passing travelers that she'd heard of dragonshards, though they were never explained to her in detail she knew they had to do with magic, and that's all she needed to know to be engrossed.

xxxHer pale skin, now finally back to a normal, warm temperature, nearly glowed in the light of the fire that Lyra brought to life upon the page. She nearly lost herself in the dancing fire until the book was snapped shut in her face and the briefly kind Lyra returned to her stoic, cold-as-frost demeanor. Fawn simply pouted. It was then that Fawn looked up and finally saw the snake coiled delicately around the neck of the mysterious mage. Instantly her eyes opened wide and she let out a shrill scream, recoiling with a flinch as her feet stumbled back, tripping over the skirt of a rug and falling backwards on her rear. Her hand, nearly catching herself on the table, had slipped and although making her fall less brutal, left a small gash on the side of her palm. Not that she noticed, instead her eyes were fixated on the black, scaled creature while dread crept into her bones.

xxx"Why do you have a snake-" She blinked. Maybe it wasn't a snake- maybe, much like Madame Lunaria's cat, it wasn't a snake at all. "Wait.. is that a real snake?" She asked, picking herself up off the ground with both eyes still locked onto the serpent as she adjusted her dress, unknowingly smearing a small trail of blood across her fabric. She kept her distance, her heart raced.

xxxIf it was one thing Fawn hated more than any creature, it was snakes. Spiders she could stand- they ate the flies and usually kept to themselves. But snakes were vicious, evil, carrying venom and had no qualms even taking down a horse at times. She remembered when father had nearly lost his leg to the bite from a venomous black snake when she was ten, and when they'd needed to put Poppy down for the very same reason four years later. Sure, there could be harmless snakes. But it was still the lack of legs and eyelids that sent goosebumps all over her body.

[Theme Song]

[Lyra]

Lyra's eyes widened in surprise at the scream, and she took a step back unintentionally. She then stared at Fawn with a mixture of incredulity and frustration. Glancing at the table she noticed the blood, following its path to the girl's hand, and her lips thinned.

"Bek'al, et mina." Lyra cursed, using a phrase which in essence meant "Foolish girl". Artur simply flicked his tongue in Fawn's direction.

For a long moment, Lyra didn't say anything, simply staring at Fawn with a growing chill in her gaze. Really, what had she done to deserve this?

"He is real enough." she said in clipped tones. Unconsciously she gently pets the snakes head, "He is my protector... Stand up, and don't touch anything else."

Turning Lyra walked several steps toward her desk, the book still in her hand. She glanced over her shoulder and said simply, "Come."

She must have been truly annoyed, for as she said the word Lyra laced a thread of aether into it. With the command, there came a simple compulsion, a desire to follow which sang through the melodies of the girl. There were no other effects besides that sudden desire to follow after the shopkeep.

Once back at the desk the book was set down and a bag produced from beneath the chair. It was made of an odd purplish leather and was covered in markings with a single glowing stone at the center. When she touched the satchel the glyphs glowed slightly before it was opened, revealing a series of vials, jars, and other odd items. A small vial of a greyish cream was selected and set on the desk in the grimoire, along with a roll of bandages.

When she turned back to Fawn Lyra would hold out her hand. Opening her mind to the symphonies Lyra absently dampened the tones of fear and unease due to Artur's presence and wove in another compulsion to extend the bleeding hand toward her. With quick motions, Lyra used a piece of cloth, and a bit of water from a container on her desk, to wet and clean the gash. Then before Fawn could protest Lyra used some of the grey salves and rubbed it into the would. It would sting, but as she applied it the bleeding would visibly slow and finally stop. With that done Lyra wrapped the hand in a layer of bandages, tearing off the end and returning everything back to her bag.

"Paper and ink." Lyra said, her voice calm but with no ounce of friendliness, "Is here behind you."

As if to impress the point the shopkeeper walked them both over to the shelf which contained both. She then took a stack of common stock paper, a common writing quill, and a vial of black ink and set them in Fawn's hands.

"Four gold. Then please remove yourself from my shop before you do any further damage."

[Fawn]

Oh, You Sweet Summer Child.

31st of Frost, 120

xxxFawn's eyes stayed locked on the serpent even as she felt her body moving. Not on it's own per say, but certainly much quicker than she may have otherwise. She hoisted herself up off the ground rather quickly and quickened herself to follow the woman across the shop. This time her eyes didn't wander much, no matter the wonderous magical items lining the walls she stayed with her gaze pinned on Lyra. And when they finally got to the desk she didn't speak a word. Her hand outstretched, obeying something. It wasn't too different from what she would have otherwise done, but it felt... quicker. Like the actions came before thought. It was odd, she thought to herself, but Marina always did say that the city can change you.

Fawn smiled as the woman began healing her hand, a soft haze to her eyes and flush to her cheeks as she watched her handiwork. It stung, but no more than any injury she'd had at the barn. Fawn had known the pain of a broken limb, tissue bruises, sprains, sliced skin from barbed wire, and everything in between one may experience when working with horses. That, and there was something oddly comforting about the cold woman. She's barely noticed the magic satchel, in fact, too focused on the nature of the woman in front of her.
"Thank you..." She said, pulling her hand back once the work was done and tracing a finger over the bandage. In her eyes, Lyra's words and her actions were different. The woman's words were like ice, her demeanor a wall, and even the way she held herself was rigid. But, there had been something.. a spark, in the woman's eyes when she'd explained what the grimoire was. She'd mended her hand with expertise, too. In a way it pained her to see such coldness from another person. People were not inherently bad, or mean, or cold, after all and Fawn could tell that the woman held pain in her, anger perhaps, frustration. Deep seeded trauma that was likely planted years ago. Exactly how many or what it was though the girl couldn't even begin to guess.

She smiled fondly as the woman pulled the items from the shelving and placed them in her hands. Fawn set them down on the desk, chuckling briefly, then pulled her coin purse out and slid five pieces across the table. "And one for your kindness." She said, gesturing to her bandaged hand and picking her items back up. "I'll just use one of the desks back there to write my first letter, might as well since I'll be needing to drop it off with the post after. But don't worry, I'll be out of your hair after that." Fawn bowed briefly and trotted over to one of the small tables in the back room, setting her new purchases down and beginning to set up her work station. Her hair spilled over shoulders and brushed the surface of the table as she sorted out her parchment, quill, and ink, and began the process of writing her first letter home.

'Mother, Father,

I made it! It has only been two days since my arrival and I've already gotten a job performing. The city is huge, I don't think I shall ever explore it's entirety. My residence is small, too small really, with no wash room or kitchen, so I'll need to find a better place soon. But the homes here are so expensive, I'm about to start selling my organs! Ha ha. I won't be able to afford meat for a while either, but the dumpling shop owner- you know, the man who's storage shed I'm sleeping in- is giving me free dumplings and soup every morning so it's not so bad.

How are the horses? Has the baby been born yet? How are the eggs? It's frigid up here, I hope they are laying still.

I'm writing this letter in a shop right now- the lady here showed me what a grimoire was! A magic book! I want to use one but apparently I have to be a mage first. I can't wait to write you again when I've found a magic teacher. There's so many people here I'm sure I'll find one soon!

Love,
Fawn'

[Theme Song]

[Lyra]

Lyra thought that was that. She accepted the gold, though she did not see her efforts as requiring payment. Still, let the child do as she wished. At her words, though, Lyra's frown deepened and she stared for a long moment before sighing.

"Do as you wish." Lyra said with a dismissive wave, "Just mind you do not become a further nuisance."

With those words Lyra immediately turned her attention away from Fawn, pulling the diagram back toward her for further inspection. Frustratingly, however, she found her attention wavering and unfocused now. Though she did not look up from the page she found her thoughts drifting back to the annoyance that now sat at the back of her shop. It wasn't that she disliked her, or really thought much of her at all. Yet still, something bothered her. It took some time, but Lyra realized what it was.

The hair. Lyra thought, looking up and the direction Fawn had gone. Or perhaps the way she speaks?

This time Lyra's frown was puzzled. She was reaching, grasping for a memory that seemed shrouded in fog. Something important, that shouldn't be forgotten... but it was gone. Once more Lyra felt annoyance well up within her and she stood. With a slow and measured pace she rounded the corner, looking down at the woman with red hair with an odd expression. Her eyes drifted to the note, though Lyra could not read it. She stood there for a few moments before clearing her throat.

"I have other ointments if the wound still pains you." Her voice was neutral, and she frowned as she spoke, "I also believe I have some bitter root to make tea to help remove the swelling later. If you desire it.

Artur was still wrapped around her shoulders, looking unblinkingly at Fawn before slithering deeper into Lyra's robes to hide behind her hair.

[Fawn]

Oh, You Sweet Summer Child.

31st of Frost, 120

xxxFawn's hand scribbled on the paper furiously, ignoring the ache in her hand as she moved onto another letter. This time, for Marina. She'd not been given her whereabouts yet, but she still wanted to write at least one letter a month until she did. And once she got word, she'd send all of her letters off to the woman. Like a journal of sorts, she supposed. The girl smiled as she penned down her thoughts to Marina, similar to her first letter, and looked up at the woman suddenly as she cleared her throat.

At first she just stared at her, a little confused, but very quickly her expression softened. She was right, the woman was kind. Perhaps a little rough around the edges, too, but in Fawn's experience no one wanted to be that way. They simply didn't know how not to. The girl raised her hand, still looking at Lyra.
"That might be nice. Perhaps I should've injured my left hand, huh?" She said, laughing sheepishly. It had ached, after all, and while she knew it wouldn't kill her to use the hand while it healed it certainly didn't speed up the process. Fawn nodded. "That sounds lovely, though I thought you wanted to get me out of your shop quickly." She teased, winking at the woman with crystaline aqua eyes. Many may have called it flirtacious, not that the girl knew what she was doing, but even in her flirtation seemed all that much more innocent to the ways of the world.

"But since you offered so kindly, I'll take you up on it." Fawn said, signing her name at the bottom of the page and placing it next to her first letter. She twisted her satchel around and reached inside, pulling out a small spool of twine and knife, and began to roll each letter up with a piece of twine wrapped around it. Moments later she tucked both letters away safely in her satchel, tied the loose papers together with an eight prong tie around the edges so as to make transporting the papers easier, and stowed her new pen and ink away. After a satisfied sigh she turned to the woman.

"Alright, can I help at all?" She asked, standing and adjusting the bag over her shoulder. It was less of a question of if and more of how, it seemed. Noting the snake still attached to her shoulder, though, she took a brief step back and smiled. "That is, assuming he stays there, right?" She eyed the elegant black creature with a mix of curiosity, fear, and discomfort.

[Theme Song]

[Lyra]

At the attempted humor Lyra simply stared, beginning to second guess her decision. She watched as Fawn prepared herself, using great care for the paper she had written on. A letter to a loved one perhaps?

"Leave him?" Lyra asked as Fawn stood. Unconsciously she reached back and touched the snake's scales with one hand, the frost of her gaze warming just the barest bit before she refocused on Fawn once more, "Better you ask me to leave my own heart on the table, little one. As I said, he is my protector and he goes where I go."

She said this, though as she did Lyra reached back and gently lifted the snake from around her neck. Her gaze was fond as she stroked his head with a thumb, whispering softly in her tongue before guiding him gently into the inner folds of her robes. There was a large pocket there in which he would stay. With that done Lyra turned, not bothering to see if Fawn would follow.

"Your help is unneeded. In fact touch nothing."

What was she doing? This was unlike her, and the thought made Lyra question herself once more. Yet despite any misgivings, she lead them back toward the desk, passing behind it. As she did she subtly shifted a small metal stand with a glowing shard, sending a ripple of magic down a series of glyphs that lead toward the door. There was a sound of a lock sliding shut, and with that Lyra started up a staircase partially hidden in the corner.

The staircase was made of sturdy wood, and Lyra ran blacked nailed fingers up the railing as she climbed the staircase to the floor above. The landing opened up into a small and simply furnished room with three doors. The room was large enough to comfortably fit a table and chairs, as well as a small sofa. There was a counter along the back left wall with cabinets with some glass equipment sitting on top. There were two doors directly across from the stairs, both open. One lead into a small bedroom with a small bed and dresser. The other was a white room with a large tub at its center. The door on the right wall was slightly cracked, but it lead into a larger room that seemed to take up the remainder of the living space. What was visible through the door were several comfortable-looking armchairs, and several shelves filled with books.

"Sit." Lyra said, waving at the table. She proceeded to walk past it, heading toward the counter.

As she neared she reached into the inner folds of her robes, removing Artur and setting him on the counter. The snack flicked his tongue toward Fawn before slithering down the counter and into one of the cabinets. Lyra rolled up the sleeves of her robes, revealing the dot-like tattoos covered not just her forearms but also went up past her elbows as well. The Counter itself looked like it was perfectly smooth, but if one looked closer you could see that there were several small etchings. One even had a small red gem at its center. This one Lyra passed her hand over, and the glyph light up with a warm energy that traced along with the metallic rings that were raised ever so slightly above the wood.

Artur stuck his head out from the cabinet, and Lyra reached down and took something from the serpent's mouth.

"This will ease the pain. Unwrap the bandages and I will get fresh for you in a moment." She set the small vial down in front of Fawn. It was slightly green in color and was a bit gritty.

Lyra returned her attention to the counter, taking a twisted root from Artur next and beginning to cut long pieces off of it into a teapot. She poured water into the pot from a small jug at the far end of her counter before setting it on the heating element. With that done Lyra began taking several more ingredients from her cabinets, adding them to another smaller bowl, and used a tool to begin grinding the herbs up. She did this in silence, seeming content to say nothing.

While she worked the black snake slithered from inside the cabinet and made his way back down the stairs to the shop below.