They were quite close to me. They have so much magic potential. I have no magic, no money, and no knowledge on how to help. Please kind elf, help us? -- Anon Guest
It is known, even amongst the most simple, that those with magic in their blood or bones will leak it. Happy baby Elves sparkle. Upset infant Hellkin make the shadows writhe and the walls bleed. And a neophyte Sorcerer... well. It depends entirely on the origin of their power.
Dragonkindred may breathe fire, acid, poison, or ice. Those with Faerie blood can turn dross into something that looks like gold... for a day. Those with divinity in their bloodlines can work little miracles depending on the god who sired their distant ancestor. Some can bend the elements. Some can make muckle strange devices.
My little Limmeny, she's... well. The village calls her Fae-touched, but she's been doing odd things. I know there's no devilborn in the family, but she's doing things a Hellkin can.
Heat doesn't bother her. Cold, neither. She talks to ghosts and has turned aside the wandering dead. She asks people who've died young to come back and... most of the time? They do.
There's magic in her, great one. I ain't smart enough to know what to do nor wealthy enough to pay her way to somewhere that could help her. Please. I thank the gods I found you and I'm still praying you can help.
They're going to burn her at the stake for what she can do, and she's only seven. You're magic. You'll know what to do.
The mummer pretending to be Wraithvine realised with a sinking feeling that he may be out of his depth as the peasant woman took his hand and lead him into the outskirts of the little town just made for leaving.
To a little farm with enough garden to see them through the winter, and just a chicken coop. She was too poor to own a pig.
The prospects of fleecing her and her family flew out the metaphorical window as he saw little Limmeny. Holding a clearly dead chicken and gently stroking its feathers. Limmeny whispered to the animal and it startled in her arms and ran squawking for the coop.
There had been flies in its eyes. Not any more, now.
Limmeny dusted her hands off and went to fetch water from the well. There to sip and sit as if she'd done a great deal of hard work. She looked up at her mother, then at him, and then past him.
I brought Wraithvine, my love. Ze's going to help you.
Limmeny said, "He has fifteen vengeful ghosts following him. They're saying he's a mummer. A fraud. He ruined their lives and ended them early."
His stomach and self-assurance dropped. "All right. Yes. I'm a false Wraithvine. The good news is that I can at least give you a thread to follow. Your daughter... has the blessings of Mistress Dark. You may want to speak to the acolytes of your local temple."
Limmeny said, "The gosts are gaining power. Mend your ways or they'll make your luck fatally unfortunate."
He considered himself fortunate to get off with a warning.
[Photo by Ramiro Martinez on Unsplash]
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