Echoes of the Past, Winds of the Future (See Content Warning)

Sometimes, the dance called life is graceful. Sometimes, you step on a toe or fall flat on your face.

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Re: Echoes of the Past, Winds of the Future (See Content Warning)

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Ireland - 1928

“It will be fine, eventually, Paddy, I promise.” Colleen knelt down before the little boy.

“I can still see ‘er! She’s wavin’ ta me!” The boy waved to the spectral figure that was heading away from him. “Nan! Come back!”

The boy crying out for his grandmother tugged at her heartstrings. Shelagh Kelly was beyond Colleen’s power, now. “It’s ‘er time, Paddy. The sickness was too powerful fer ‘er body.”

“Fix it! You can! I know so!” The eight year old was weeping now as Colleen held him to her. He’d been told how she brought his mother from the brink of death at his birth.

“I’m sorry, Paddy, truly I am. Once someone goes past death’s door the price ta bring ‘em back is very heavy. ‘n’ they're rarely who we knew and loved if they come back. Sometimes, it means tradin’ someone else we love ta bring t’other back.”

“What do we do?” He sobbed.

“Love doesn’t die, little one.” She brushed a lock of hair from the boy’s face. “Remember ‘er bakin’, ‘er stories… ‘n’ keep ‘em in yer heart. She’ll always be wit’ ya.”

“Always?” He looked skeptical.

“Until the time comes fer ya to travel ta see ‘er again.”

“When will I know?”

“Someone will come ta guide ya, Pádraig Ryan, ‘n’ ya will know.”

“Will Nan come?”

“I don’t know.” She held the boy a bit longer before getting to her feet. “Right now, Paddy, I need ta see ta yer sister. Her time ta go isn’t here yet, ‘n’ we need ta make sure it stays that way.”

“Can I help?”

“Aye, go help yer mam in the kitchen. Tell ‘er I asked fer ya ta have a job ta do ta help yer sister. She’ll understand.” Collie smiled. She expected the child to be given busy work. He needed to feel useful and not helpless. Paddy did as he was asked. It would be some time before he met Colleen MacLeod again.
Last edited by PrlUnicorn on Sun Feb 13, 2022 1:58 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Echoes of the Past, Winds of the Future (See Content Warning)

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16 April 2021 - St. Patrick’s Church - Old Temple

Boot heels clicked on the sidewalk as Colleen made her way to St. Patrick’s Rectory. Mary Lidener, cook and housekeeper, was outside sweeping the porch.

“Mornin’, Mary. How are ya today?”

“Doing well, doing well! Father Paddy, I mean, Monsignor Ryan is sorting out the parish records.”

“He wasn’t expectin’ me, so, if he’s busy, I can come back.”

Mary made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Go on in, it’s near lunchtime. I’ll get something for both of you.” Mary was a fiftyish matronly woman that knew her way around a kitchen like Colleen did around a horse stable. “He asked for grilled cheese and tomato soup.”

“Wit’ a touch o’ basil,” Colleen murmured.

“Pardon, ma’am?”

Colleen smiled. “Oh, wit’ basil. Some like the soup that way.”

“He said his mother made it that way. So, that’s how I do it.”

She learned that from me, Collie thought as she headed into the rectory. No matter how carefully one tried to walk on it, the polished hardwood floor had a tendency to amplify footsteps. Hers echoed as she walked the long hallway. She paused outside the door of the church’s library and archives. She watched in silence as Monsignor Ryan worked.

Without looking up from the box he was digging through, the priest asked, “Time, yet, Mary?”

It was Colleen’s voice that answered. “She’s in the kitchen, Paddy. Makin’ yer favorite if I remember right.”

“Tomato soup with basil. Mam used to make it.”

“I remember.” She had a moment of being lost in reverie before asking, “What is it yer doin’ wit all the boxes ‘n’ whatnot?”

“Research. I’m looking for records on…” He was interrupted by Mary’s announcement that food was being served. “Hmm… we best get in there. She can get testy if the food gets cold.”

“Records on?” she prompted as they headed into the kitchen.

“Baptisms, first communion, orders …”

“The usual then.” Colleen smiled as she settled at the table.

“Seems so, but these are old records from before my time here. They seem to be missing.”

“How long afore yer time?” She studied the elderly man as he tucked into his soup.

“Years before my birth.”

“Children in the same family?” Colleen’s spoon rested in the bowl.

“Without finding them, it’s hard to say. The woman looking for her people said her grandmother had been adopted. Other siblings are possible.”

She rested her jaw on the backs of her fingers as she listened. “Did the woman leave her information?”

“Vanessa Mariposa, born here in Rhydin, twenty years ago. Perhaps, one of yours?”

“One of… oh… I’ll check my records.” Her mind was clicking like a well wound clock. Something about the name was familiar. “Address, telephone?” she asked absently.

“One of the hotels out at the spaceport.”

Her expression didn’t betray her thoughts, but something didn’t sit well with Colleen. Why would someone native born to Rhydin need to stay in a hotel at the port? And why didn’t Paddy catch that? With the bi-monthly updates on the church’s youth programs and banking completed, Colleen headed off to Nicole’s Bistro for dinner. As she waited on her veal parmigiana, Colleen put in a call to Misfit Squadron at the Port. Diana and her husband, Stephen, lived on a private island. However, business for Colleen’s daughter was still done in a hangar group. “Dee, I have a job fer ya.”
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Re: Echoes of the Past, Winds of the Future (See Content Warning)

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Misfit HQ - Star’s End Spaceport
Same day

Diana was tinkering with the pollution control system on her long distance ride; a tricked out fighter jet. “Hawk!” she called out to her wingman. “You have a reason for standing around like a statue?”

The pale blue eyed man stared at her a moment then snorted. “I’d be standing around less if you answered your commlink.”

“Hmph.” She turned the ratchet a few more times before answering. “This baby needs to be ready for kicking tires and lighting fires. Who needs to talk to me that badly that you’re playing courier?”

“Fury, if you don’t answer that call, you’ll have one of our best customers pissed off, not to mention the fires she can light.”

“Matriarch?” She used a code name, but it was pretty clear who she meant.

“Matriarch.” He nodded before adding, “Don’t forget, you promised flight simulator time to Clover’s students.”

“Call her, she knows the schedule and what transport to ask for. We have two large enough to carry all those kids.”

“Lucky kids. When I was a kid, field trips consisted of the library or paper plant. If I was exceptionally lucky, the circus.”

“Go cry in your coffee, Hawk.” Diana chortled. “Not their fault they have a more adventurous teacher than you ever did.”

“Yeah, yeah, kiss my beer! She's in the office, you tell her.” He waved her off as he went back to the office.

She braced herself for a possible ear blistering, but the voice that spoke was calm and collected.

“Dee, I have a job fer ya.”

Diana listened quietly on the other end of the line for details before asking, “How soon do you need it?”

“Soon as ya can. St. Pat’s hasn’t got a lot o’ cameras, but maybe ya can figure it out. Only name we’ve got is Vanessa Mariposa.”

Diana paused in her note jotting and quick research to ask, “Are you serious?”

“Aye.”

“Check heraldry. Find out if there’s a sigil with a double butterfly. She’s either got parents with a weird sense of humor or that’s a code. I’ll get back to you ASAP!” Diana broke the connection and went to speak with her niece.
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Re: Echoes of the Past, Winds of the Future (See Content Warning)

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After asking Maggie to pick up lunch, Diana made a call to St. Patrick’s. Monsignor Ryan was unavailable, but Mary, the housekeeper, was up for a chat. She could talk the legs off an iron chair when given the chance. Paddy Ryan had six visitors at the church office that week; one had been her mother, two were male. The other three included a gnomish woman. Dee tapped into the recordings for the public webcam system in Rhydin. Two other visitors made their way to shops and other religious organizations. Only one took the transport to the Port. Diana froze the recorded feed. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the woman’s figure. Playback started again. A wry smile touched her lips as she asked her Chief Medical Officer to join her.

Geraldine Pickering had been working with and for Diana since she purchased the hangar space at the Port. She had her ever present cup of coffee in hand. “What have you got, Dee? I’m doing two crew physicals at 1400 hours.”

Diana tipped her head toward the screen and pointed out the woman she’d been puzzling over. “What do you see there?” She resumed the playback.

“Go back twenty seconds and replay it.” Gerry watched as the woman walked. The cameras in that area were motion activated and, with the right playback sequences running, seemed to follow people through the shopping district. “Again, slow mo.” She pointed it out. “She’s walking like someone not used to carrying a sidearm and … or… she’s had recent slow weight gain.” The doctor tapped the screen. “Zoom that.”

“On it.” Diana’s brows furrowed as she got a better look. Another zoom level was clicked “I think you hit it with the weight gain.” Two heartbeats passed before the pair looked at each other, grinned, and said in unison, “Both!” Followed by, “They're digging in the wrong place!” The movie quote had become a private joke of sorts between them.

“All those siblings and you needed me to confirm this?”

“My mother is the midwife. I,” she jerked a thumb toward herself, “am a grease monkey.” Her joking manner faded. “I needed a medical opinion. How far along do you think?”

“Barely out of her first trimester based on her gait. Hips beginning to widen and how she’s walking tells me that she hasn’t adjusted yet.”

Diana shook her head. “Whoever that woman is, she’s armed, pregnant, and searching for someone she claims is her family.”

“Another timeslipped kid, you think?” Geraldine finally got around to opening her coffee and took a long drink.

Dee rested her jaw on the backs of her fingers. “Possibly. Most timeslipped kids have a good idea who their families are, if not where to find them.”

“Unless they were never told.” The third voice was Hawk’s.

Pale blue eyes looked over the man. “You still haven’t learned to knock?”

“You’d have asked my opinion anyway.” He gave each of the women a grin.

Diana had been making notes on each place the woman stopped. Copies of one particular picture started rolling off the printer. “Hawk, get copies of that out to every OB/GYN unit we have contacts in. Especially DESMC, WSOMC, and Riverview.”

“We have a couple at Rhydin General.” He looked over the face in the picture. “Anything else?”

“I’m going back to sick bay. I expect you two can sort this from here.” Gerry gave Dee’s shoulder a squeeze and shut the door as she left.

“Lock it,” she ordered without looking away from the screen.

“Boss?”

After the lock clicked into place, Diana gave Hawk a sidelong glance. “I know what you were getting at. I also know it’s something you don’t really talk about. I’ve never asked why because those things can be painful.”

“I know where and when I was born.”

“Or will be.” She turned her head and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“Or will be,” he repeated. “The DNA has always been inclusive.”

“Or someone lied.” Diana gave him a knowing look. “You were given your mother’s name, but not your father’s. But you’ve never asked her …”

“When Madison was just about snatched out of my hands, I realized, I couldn’t always see what the truth was. Even with something staring me in the face.” He stacked the copies of the pictures. “She sees me as family, Dee. And after getting to know her, I realized, she never would have left me behind. That left only one possibility. Now, you’ve shown me another that I never wanted to consider.”

“False identity,” she said quietly. “One step at a time.” As Hawk started to leave, she said, “Check with the Port Authority. Tell them we have reason to believe the woman in that picture is endangered or a danger to someone. Ask if anyone matching her description came through. We can work from there.”

“Roger!” He gave her a two fingers to the temple salute and left.
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Re: Echoes of the Past, Winds of the Future (See Content Warning)

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Over the next few days, Maggie returned, several times, to the Wilds where she and Ettyn had found the faery holes. She hoped to solve that puzzle if not the one surrounding the mystery woman at her grandmother’s gate! She supposed it would have been easier to ask questions, but Maggie rarely did anything the easy way. Crouching down, she started checking the bases of trees. She froze as she heard something behind her.

A woman’s voice, calm and quiet, said, “Ursa would be more helpful to you.” She shifted her shoulders moving the bow and quiver into place. A pair of fawns grazed near her feet. One of her hounds moved forward to investigate what might have been seen as an interloper. He chuffed as he recognized the scent of dried meat.

Maggie let out the breath she’d been holding and turned to face one of her aunts. “You’re right, she would.” She chuffed back at the dog and crouched to offer him some of the jerky in her pockets. The teen laughed. “Hungry and curious as always.” She rubbed the dog’s ears with her fingertips.

“One could say the same of you, Trifýlli.” The huntress crouched and lifted her niece’s chin to study her face. “Strong and, yet, beautiful features much like your mother. The eyes are not hers, though.”

The dog was happily nuzzling her cheek. “Those came from Da.”

“Of course,” Artemis said. “Mortals keep life interesting.”

“So, I hear.” She ruffled the dog’s fur again.

When Artemis stood, her hound sat at her heel. “So, what are you looking for?”

“I can’t quite put my finger on it,” Maggie groused. “I can feel the power, the magic, but …”

A smile slowly spread over the face of the goddess. “Why did you choose the bear as your totem?”

“What does that have …” Maggie’s brows furrowed as recognized the question as what it truly was, a test. “My first toy as a baby was a plush bear. I used a plush bear to focus my energy when I started dueling in Magic.”

“Go on.” The elder encouraged with a smile.

“Bears are strong, smart, and there’s a reason it’s called Mama Bear syndrome.” Maggie was quiet for a while before saying, “Getting between a she-bear and her cubs could be the last mistake you make.”

“I have seen what happened when someone got between your mother and hers.” The goddess’s mouth had become an extended frown. “Athena intervened on your mother’s behalf.”

“I know that story. She turned her wooden sword into a steel one.”

“Indeed.” Long fingers stretched down to rub the hound’s head and neck. “You have no cubs to look after, Trifýlli.”

“Don’t I?” The teenager’s narrowed eyes met her aunt’s. “Every student that I teach, every child that I guide, and every soul that I help cross, they are my cubs. They need not be my blood to be my cub.”

“Use Ursa’s wisdom and senses, niece. Perhaps there are cubs here, but you need to find them.”

“Mm.” She made a derisive noise. “I’ve been watching hunter’s traps. I see how some creatures learn to avoid them. In this case, things are repelled like …” Her hand moved as if she was trying to pull the words out of her head. “Like pushing together magnets with the same polarity.”

“Keeping things out rather than drawing them in. Intriguing.”

“Yes, intriguing.” She smiled thoughtfully. Slowly, the young woman’s face reshaped and became the snout of a bear. The shaggy body shook before the she-bear sat back on her haunches. When something in the air caught her attention, she sniffed a moment then followed the scent.

Artemis faded away as Maggie the bear searched for answers.
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Re: Echoes of the Past, Winds of the Future (See Content Warning)

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She could hear muffled voices and footsteps, but it was scent that held her attention for a while. Even in ursine form, she could see where faery creatures had laid their traps and diversions. The bear’s nose was highly sensitive to things like wolfsbane. That odor caused a low and sad growl to escape as she remembered what silver and wolfsbane could do to Amaris.

The footsteps in the distance stopped short!

“Did you hear that?” The words were spoken in a high pitch, almost squeaky.

“Was just an animal, probably hunting,” a deeper voice spoke. “Let’s make sure we don’t become its dinner.”

“We’re not armed, you idiot. How will we…” again in the shrill voice.

“Hush!” He stretched an arm out across her chest to slow his companion’s progress. “There you are,” he muttered. “A bear digging for something. Probably grubs in the dead wood. Let’s move on our way. Odds are, it won’t have a clue of what we’re up to.”

The bear’s ears twitched as if flicking off an insect. Her head lifted and she seemed to be taking the measure of the two people nearby

“Well done, you poorly tuned violin,” the sarcasm dripped in his words, “you got its attention.”

“Let’s get out of here as quickly as possible before it …”

Two cubs appeared near the sow. She started grooming them and seemed not to be bothered by the presence of people.

“Ah, I see now. We leave the cubs alone, she will leave us alone. Move carefully and don’t set her off or we could be dead before we can blink.”

“I vote we leave, now!” Again the shrill voice pierced the air.

“No one asked ...”

The shrill tone caused the bear to go on guard and raise up on her hind legs. Fearing for their lives, the people took off. In their haste, they dropped a few things and once they were out of sight, the bear sniffed the bags and growled. Maggie slowly returned to a more human looking form. The cubs, too, changed form. She grinned at the wood sprites. “Thanks, guys.” To the ears of others, the sprite probably sounded like jingling chimes. Maggie shook her head and spoke in a similar language. “I’m not sure what’s going on. But I think we just learned who some of the culprits are. Be careful, they’re herding creatures to separate holes.” Gesturing, she pointed out a few of the sites. “Rather, steering some away. Wolfsbane and silver there, garlic and iron there, clovers there. Other things, too. The question is… why?”
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Re: Echoes of the Past, Winds of the Future (See Content Warning)

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21 April 2021 - Dragon's Gate Dueling Sword School

Maggie had a rough sketch on her desk. It was her best effort at creating a map of what she'd seen on her second trip out to the faery holes, mounds, and whatever else had risen in the woods. She shook her head as she matched her sketch to a recent map of the area. "That's all kinds of wrong," she muttered. Since she had invited Sal and Gatito for lunch, she had a small table and three comfortable seats ready. Her students had a half day of class in the morning and had been taken on a field trip to the botanical garden for the afternoon. It allowed Maggie to do a bit of research.

It also allowed Salvador to slip into the building freely, without being accosted by adoring young fans. He actually exhaled relief when he and his companion arrived to find the place deserted. Having been here a few times before, he lead the way to Maggie's office, and actually politely knocked on the door.

The young man called gatito slipped into the building a step or two behind Salvador and followed the Spaniard through the halls. In one hand, he carried what was quite obviously a picnic basket. In the other, he carried a small cooler. A soft shushing sound suggested the ice inside shifted with every step he took.

Rude of the Spaniard to make the gatito lug all of the things, but at least he kindly opened the door for the young man to let him into the office first.

"Hey, Sal, Gatito." Maggie gestured to the table for them to sit. Her eyes widened as she saw the picnic basket. "Oh, wow! You brought lunch! That's great! I was going to order us pizza, but if what's in that basket is anything like the macarons, this will be a fantastic lunch!"

The young man had the good grace to look a little sheepish. The golden skin of his face flushed with a little warmth. “When you said make lunch …” He tapered into a quiet laugh and shook his head, offering Maggie a wry smile as he stepped into her office. “It is not quite pizza, so I hope it will not disappoint,” he said as he carried the basket and cooler to the table that had been set up.

"It smells good!" When Sal and Gatito were both in the office, she closed the door.

Once the gatito was through, Salvador slipped in after him. He remained a man of few words and didn't even say hello, but he quickly moved aside so that Maggie could shut the door, avoiding physical contact.

“Merci.” That seemed to act as a balm to his little bit of embarrassment. “Do you want to discuss things first, then eat, or shall I start unloading this?” He touched the basket.

"I’m able to do both at once if you're good with it," Maggie answered.

“I am.” Gatito looked to Sal to see if he was on board with chatting while eating.

Salvador nodded an affirmative.

Given the go-ahead by them both, gatito began unpacking the things he’d brought: there were two kinds of sandwiches, one made with marinated vegetables and cheese and the other with prosciutto and salami; a green salad with a piquant vinaigrette; fresh fruit salad; and a small box of chocolate macarons. Everything was packaged in individual portions, except the macarons, and those went on Maggie’s desk instead of the table. Inside the cooler, he had packed bottled water, citrus-kissed sparkling water, and bottled tea.

Though Salvador had been in here once or twice before, likely, it was still a habit of his to slowly circle the room and investigate its every inch before settling. That's what he did now.

One of the bookcases was packed full of things from Maggie's personal library and things recently borrowed. A couple of volumes that looked to be ancient and well used were on the desk next to the maps.

"Have you already heard about Morgan LaFey being abducted?" Maggie asked.

Though Sal’s gaze swept over everything, his hands touched nothing at all. He paused behind Maggie's desk, though, so that he could look down at those ancient volumes and the maps, squinting. "No," he answered blandly, not really at all sounding concerned.

Gatito looked up when Maggie mentioned Morgan LaFey. After a moment of thought, he shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

"I don't have the whole story on it. I had one of those walked into the middle of a movie moments on my last trip to Books and Brews. Found Ettyn with what looked like Morgan, but didn't feel like him, at weapon's point. The glamour faded and some kind of unfriendly looking fey creature revealed itself. Solid black eyes and jagged teeth. Said Morgan was going to be in the Hunt.”

Maggie gestured toward the Italian melt. "May I?"

Salvador snorted at that information. "As prey, maybe," he muttered.

Gatito grew very still for all of four seconds. Then he slowly and carefully bent to set the basket on the floor. He moved like he was trying not to draw attention. “Of course,” he said softly to Maggie.

"That was my thinking, too," she nodded, "I went with Ettyn and Alexia to scout the area where he supposedly disappeared. We took winged mounts. If someone is opening holes in the ground to capture prey, better to not be on foot. I went back to look on my own. I needed to be sure of what I thought I saw. "

Gatito dropped into one of the chairs and reached for a bottle of sparkling water. Crack! He glanced between Maggie and Sal as he opened it. “And what did you think you saw?” he asked after a sip.

The gatito asked the question he would have, so Sal kept his silence. Being unable to fully decipher Maggie's assortment of books and maps at a glance, he finally moved away from her desk and over to the table where they were digging in.

Maggie, too, settled into a chair and after chewing and swallowing a bit of sandwich continued. "It was weird. Several rings had auras... maybe? It was like they were trying to attract specific beings to some and ward off some from others. Morgan was recovered. Unless I'm reading the passages in those books wrong, means they will hunt for someone to take his place."

She had a bottle of juice that she pulled from the cooler near her desk. Golden eyes moved to study Sal. "I came to you because you aren't the sort to panic. My grandmother knows about Morgan going missing and, now, having been recovered. I wasn't ready to tell her this. Last thing I want is to start is a war."

Nudging one of the chairs out with the toe of his boot, Salvador dropped onto the seat and scooped up one of those portioned, individually packaged containers of salad, and a fork. Indeed, even as Maggie continued to tell her tale, he did not seem the least bit perturbed. "What's there to panic about?" After he pried the lid off his container of salad, he added, with a shrug, "Just stay out of the woods."

While he listened to Maggie, gatito reached for one of the other Italian melts. It was wrapped in wax paper and was still warm, as Maggie’s sandwich had been. He also pulled over a bowl of salad for himself and reached for one of the individually-wrapped plasticware sets. “The auras act as … bait? Or a deterrent for creatures not of the desired persuasion?” He huffed a breath through his nose thanks to Sal’s input.

"Beltane isn't far off usually part of that is held in the woods. People get drunk or smell pheromones," a gesture to one of the books on her desk, "they could follow and get lost in the woods." A nod to Gatito. "That's my thinking. When someone puts out things like wolfsbane, they are looking to ward off werewolves ... at least."

Salvador followed the line of Maggie's gesture with his eyes, and a slight turn of his head to focus on her desk. Stabbing vegetable matter onto his fork, he filled his mouth and chewed. Better that than say what might have been on the tip of his tongue.

The corner of gatito’s eye twitched at the mention of wolfsbane. “Right, yes. But this is in the actual aura of the openings?” He unwrapped his sandwich and opened his salad, tucking first into the former.

"That's what it feels like." Maggie chewed thoughtfully as she considered her next words. "There's something else. Some of those holes smelled of fey wine. Never drank it, but I know what it smells like. Isn't it rare to be hunting kin?"

"Nn." Salvador's eyes narrowed and a frown marred his features. "Should be."

The young man’s brows furrowed while he chewed. He glanced between Maggie and Sal. The skin around his eyes was tight.

Maggie frowned. "Would have to have committed sort of offense.”

Salvador snorted and shook his head, a puzzled knit creasing his brow. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know how the Hunt works. But suppose ..." she took a drink of her juice, "suppose it's someone working outside the rules? Aren't there always rules of some kind?" The gears in Maggie's head were working and her expression reflected that.

Gatito swallowed a mouthful of sandwich and sipped at his sparkling water to clear his mouth. "I do not know much about the rules, but perhaps it is a personal thing? Perhaps Morgan was chosen for something he's done, an offense as you say?"

"There are no rules," Salvador muttered. "That's why they call it Wild. They take what they want."

Maggie nodded as she heard each man in turn. "Much like dealing with the gods, one never knows when a line is stepped over until it's long done and revenge is wanted. Or... " She didn't say vengeance, that and revenge were different things. She frowned as something clicked into place. "Sal, have you heard of hunts being called on someone in particular?"

"No." An immediate and easy answer to give. Salvador shook his head in the negative for extra emphasis.

Gatito remained quiet, listening to Sal and Maggie while he ate. A frown had taken up residence at his brow. After a moment, he said, quietly, "I was hunted ... but not like this. None of the, the ... spectral ..." He tapered and waved his hand, unable to find his words.

"Keeping out of the woods is easy enough for me." She gave Gatito a little smile and a nod. "I get what you mean." Another bite of sandwich. "There is something else. Might mean nothing, but might be everything."

Maggie’s lips pursed. "Around my birthday, Gran had a visitor. I didn't see him. I felt," she made a gesture as if trying to draw out the right words,"like I went head first into a wall. Whoever he was, he wasn't let past the gates. Her anger ... no, rage... was still in the air. There was nothing physical left behind."

Maggie brought her hand up under her chin. "What if what I saw was a warning? Can things be made for only some people to see them? If Alexia saw what I did, she didn't say."

"Not all eyes see the same." A few words of wisdom that Salvador provided along with a shrug. He finished off his salad and set the container on the table. This was not a place for flexing his power to dispose of it otherwise. Keeping the fork in hand, he fiddled with it idly. Arms crossed and easing into a relaxed slouch for now.

“Was it her rage that felt like a wall, or was it his … shielding?” The young man didn’t sound entirely certain of his wording there, but he thought it was the right one. “Was it something to prevent anyone from figuring out who he was?”

When Salvador set his empty container aside, gatito nudged his own salad closer in offering. There were roasted vegetable sandwiches on the table, as well. The young man tipped his head toward the Spaniard. “Some can see through illusions more easily than others,” he offered in support.

"Mm." That was a hum of confirmation, coupled with a few brief nods. Salvador agreed completely with the gatito’s assessment that some could see more easily through illusions than others. He lifted a hand, two fingers more than the rest, to wave off the offer of more salad. He did not seem much interested in any of the other food at the moment.

"Yes, I know. It makes sense. Alexia and I have fae blood in common, but I've never heard her speak of other things. Being of mixed heritage can bring a lot of things into play." Maggie finished another bite of her sandwich before going on. "Gran's rage ... lingered. You know how snow packs together and gets hard? Getting hit with it can hurt like a fast heavy staff. It was like that. Or a wall of waving heat, slam, boom, ow!" The hand not holding the sandwich waved expressively.

As Maggie went on to speak of fae heritage, Salvador’s attention fixed again on her. He pressed his thumb to the tines of the fork in his hand, as if trying to bend them, but kept whatever thoughts he had on the subject to himself. He listened and absorbed her words, processing them at length.

Gatito left the container of salad where it was for now and continued working on his sandwich, listening to Maggie talk. “That makes sense,” he said with a nod. A small smile skipped across his mouth; something she’d said reminded him of old comic books.

It was a while before Maggie spoke again. "I know who can help me figure out who the man was, but probably means time sliding." Maggie suddenly frowned. "Whoever that man was, the smell he left behind was something between troll and redcap with a side of death."

She explained further, "Gran's dog, Finn. That's the best translation I can give of what he said." Maggie gestured over her shoulder to the pile of books. "That's part of what I've been looking up. Redcaps are pretty nasty. Trolls, though, they have their own code."

The mention of redcaps had a few threads of violent light slithering through Salvador's irises. His jaw clenched. "Nngh." His opinion of much of his fae kin was not high. "What is it, exactly, you're looking for?" he asked, looking again at her piles of books.

Gatito’s smile fell away at the mention of redcaps and trolls. A shudder rolled down his spine and though he said nothing at the moment, he seemed to agree wholeheartedly with her assessment and Sal’s unspoken agreement. Nasty, nasty creatures.

"What I'm looking for, at least one of the things, is safeguarding myself from being …sniffed out. I'm not sure, yet, just what part I have to play, but something tells me I'm going to need to hide myself or someone else from them. Those traps might not be for someone that's here, not yet. What if someone is coming here and they're trying to stop them?"

Gatito glanced between the Spaniard and Maggie. He paled a little beneath his golden skin. “Someone they’re trying to keep there, or someone they’re trying to take?”

She gestured to the pile of books again. "I'm scouring those for clues. Best I can come up with is the ones marked to ward away creatures is to keep them from going in, but let someone else out. Some woodland creatures have dens with several paths in and out, but they hide most of them, acts like an escape hatch. An emergency exit, they can get out, no one should be able to get in.

“Maybe whatever kind of fae set them up is preparing for something major. What, I don't know ... not yet. That's why I asked for your help. I'm not ashamed to admit when I don't know something and am looking for answers." Maggie paused to enjoy more of her delicious sandwich.

As he listened, Salvador kept looking at the pile of books. With his arms crossed as they were, he drummed the fingers of one hand against his forearm. In his other hand he still had hold of a fork, pressing his thumb hard enough against the tines to leave a mark in his skin.

It was a while before the teenager spoke again. "The big hunt in the making ... maybe the snare holes like the one Morgan fell into, that I found are meant to trap the hunters into being the Big Hunt. If you think about it, wouldn't hunters going after something really dangerous, like the ones that go after large game, be very challenging prey for that hunt?"

She slurped her drink. "I can't interfere in that and I probably shouldn't. Point is, there might be more than one Hunt going on. Some might be obscured to other eyes."

"What kind of help do you think I can give you here?" The question might have been rhetorical, because Salvador grumbled further. "It's not my hunt. It's not even the Hunt. Wrong time of year. Wrong..." He turned the fork as if he could scratch the proper word right out of the air. "...flavor." That wasn't entirely right either, but Sal was not the best with words. It was the best he could do.

"That's just it, isn't it?" Maggie studied Sal's face. " The wrong time of year, feels like a distraction of some kind to me." Her brows furrowed as she considered her next words. "You can tell me, no, advise me on how to protect myself and others that aren't quite ready to face off with a Redcap. Trolls tended to have some sense of honor, Redcaps..." She shook her head.

"Whoever that man was, he might be back, and I want to be prepared. Covering scent, warding them off... redirecting them. It's not so much the hunt, but what it might be hiding that I'm preparing for." She glanced to a chart on the wall listing the names of her students.

"You know as well as I do," she looked between Sal and Gatito, "that some people attack those we care about rather than attacking us directly. If he was going to hit Gran that way, he'd come for any of us. What's the phrase? Collateral damage?" she asked. Maggie quietly enjoyed the rest of her sandwich as she considered Sal and Gatito's words.

Redcaps. The more ruthless beasts were mentioned, the deeper he scowled, brows dipping with a narrow of eyes that had the faintest dim glow in the irises. He bared the edges of his teeth, biting down hard on any words that might have been deemed inappropriate to younger ears. Salvador held back most of them, but not all. "Collateral [expletives deleted]," he grumbled, stabbing his fork into the salad that had been pushed his way. He left it there.

Gatito had fallen quiet, listening to Maggie and Salvador talk while he ate. As he was finishing up his sandwich, he flinched. “Collateral damage,” he echoed with a nod and a moue of distaste. Oh, yes. He certainly understood how some would attack friends and loved ones instead of launching a more direct assault on their true target.

"You'll want to keep iron on you," Salvador suggested first. "Raw iron. Powdered iron. Most faerie things that can sniff you out... Get that shit up their noses and..." He held a loose fist by his own nose and fanned out his fingers in an explosive gesture. "Fucks them right up." He scratched at the side of his head with his thumbnail, thinking further. "If they're chasing you, jump the river. Maybe wear bells on your feet. Drives them crazy."

"Best source of iron will be Uncle Heph." Like Sal, Maggie had taken the shortest distance between two points and gotten to the heart of the matter. "I can ask on my next visit. I'm sure there are scraps and powders of some kind in the slag heap."

Gatito glanced to Salvador, watching the man while he spoke about protective measures. “Would liquid iron be good as a last resort? Or is the concentration too weak to be of any use?” He looked between the Spaniard and Maggie.

"Could work." Salvador scratched at the salad container's edge with a fingernail, watching his hand more than them. "Worked on me before. Stick it in a..." Struggling with the word, as he was prone to do, he lifted his hand in a loose fist, held it close to his neck, and pantomimed pressing his thumb on a plunger.

"Syringe? Like a doctor giving a shot?" Maggie's mind was clicking away. She wasn't normally looking to do purposeful harm to people, but she wasn't taking chances where her younger aunts, Abby and Madison, were concerned. Anyone looking to hit her grandmother hard would have gone for them first.

“Um …” Gatito tried to claw the word out of his mind. “Hypodermique?” Then Maggie came to the rescue! He pointed at her. “Oui. Syringe,” he said, nodding. That’s the word he had been reaching for.

"Yeah that." Salvador tipped his hand away from his own neck to lazily shake a finger at Maggie. Tap, tap, tap on the air as he nodded to confirm her correct guess. And Gatito’s too!

"Da's diabetic, I've learned how to use one of those in case his glucose level is out of whack,” Maggie said.

"You, uh..." Reaching over his own shoulder, Salvador rubbed at the back of his neck. A slow look around the room reminded him they were alone. This was trusted company. "Go see Doctor Valkonan. See if she still has the shit she used on me. That should work."

Gatito wiped his fingers off on a napkin, then brushed his hand through his hair. “I’m not sure it would …” The words trailed away so he wouldn’t talk over Sal. His brow furrowed again.

"I'll let Doc Anya know there's a possible danger to Abby and Madison. Once she knows that much, there might not be other questions. She might have other ideas,” Maggie said. "I doubt she wants a rerun of what happened when the girls were babies."

Pulling his hand back around, Salvador nodded several times slowly, and recrossed his arms. This was a solid plan.

After a moment, gatito ran his hand through his hair again. “I was going to say that the syringe idea … I think that would only work as a last resort. If someone tried to grab you, or something like that.” And he paused again, realizing that probably wasn’t very helpful since Maggie’s main concern was her younger aunts. He hummed.

Maggie nodded to Gatito. "Like a dagger in a boot; an extra layer."

“Exactly.” He nodded.

"Decorate them in daisies," Salvador suggested quietly. Such a simple thing. A distant thought slipping out of him as if, for a moment, he'd been haunted by something else entirely. The fae in him speaking through truthful poetry.

The young man’s gaze ticked from Maggie to Sal and his brows arched.

"It's spring, the garden is filled with them," Maggie murmured, "but what about snowdrops? Some beings can be hidden from view that way."

Salvador shook his head abruptly and lifted one hand to rub at his eye. "Hn. Maybe. I don't know much plant magic. Dama does. You could come talk to her, maybe." His dryad was a shy creature. Biting at a hangnail, a thought occurred to him. "Bring your violin. She likes music."

Maggie grinned and nodded. "That's doable. If she isn't willing to talk to me or doesn't know, there are," she paused to think a moment," at least three libraries I can dig in."

That made Sal chuckle and grin. “Verdad.”

“I think she will be,” the young man interjected quietly. A small smile curved across his mouth. “She understands looking after family.”

The gatito’s words were also true! Salvador nodded his silent agreement to that statement, with the faintest little smile surfacing.

After nodding to Gatito, Maggie said," For all I know, she probably is family." Her head turned toward Sal, "Any idea what kind of music Dama likes best?"

"Uh..." Types of music were not in Sal’s mental databank of knowledge! He picked at a loose string on his knee, worrying at a growing hole. "Soft stuff? She likes voices. Singing."

“She has listened to opera with me,” gatito said, still speaking softly. Sal’s input got a nod out of him. “But softer, slower things, yes. And she likes when I sing to her. Even though I’m not very good at it.” Wry!

"Maybe lullabies. Dris used to sing them to me." Maggie's eyes lit up. "I think.... I wonder if one of those little music players would be to her liking!"

A quiet fondness settled in the recesses of his almost smile. Salvador's gaze was downcast, introspective. "Yeah," was all he said, quietly. All around approval.

“The wind-up sort?” the young man asked Maggie. He was still smiling.

"Yeah." She nodded. "Between Uncle Heph's clockworks and Dris's talent for all thing musical, could have something that plays several tunes!" Maggie had slipped in MacGyver mode for a moment.

Gatito’s smile deepened. “I bet she’d really love a music box,” he mused. Again, it had taken him a few moments to find the right term in English.

"Hn. Maybe a metal one." One had to be careful when treating with a dryad not to offend them with wood crafted things! Even Sal kept his hobby well away from Dama's eyes.

The gatito nodded his agreement and pointed one long finger at Salvador. That was a very good suggestion!

"Which is why I thought of Uncle Heph to make the container, most of his work is in metal."

"Good." Sal nodded his approval there.

"I figured Dris would know how to make the whatchamallit," she made a wild hand gesture, "movement?"

A quiet hum, but gatito didn’t have the answer. “It wouldn’t hurt to ask him.”

"Yeah." With a tip of his head toward the gatito to indicate he agreed on that part. Ask Dris!

She nodded. "Dris has always been happy to answer my questions on music. This one is probably a lot easier than What was Mozart's grandmother's maiden name?“ Maggie giggled.

That got a quiet laugh out of the gatito. “If anyone knows the answer to that question, it’s got to be him.” So amused. They were talking about a man who named his pets after composers, after all.

Maggie jotted down a few notes in stylized Greek lettering, an ancient form of the language. "So, Uncle Heph for iron scraps and clockworks, Dris for musical advice, both to create a music box to offer to Dama in exchange for her help and knowledge, Doc Anya for advice on shooting people with iron then ... Aunt Nicole's shop in New Haven. Easiest way to carry a lot of bells is on bracelets, anklets in the form of little charms."

She looked between the pair. "Did I forget anything?"

Gatito set his elbows upon the table and leaned his lips against loosely clasped hands, watching while Maggie took notes. Here and there, he nodded. Perhaps he was making his own mental notes! He sat back at the end. “I don’t think so,” he said slowly. As he often did, he looked to Salvador, deferring to him.

The Spaniard had nothing more to add, either, and shook his head.

With those ideas committed to memory, Maggie's next order of business was a step back in time.

((Taken from a live scene. Many thanks to Delahada and Partly Cloudy!))
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Re: Echoes of the Past, Winds of the Future (See Content Warning)

Post by PrlUnicorn »

23 Apr 2021 - The Red Dragon Inn

The evening started like most others with Conner Reid tending. Laughter, warmth, and conversation filled the ancient Red Dragon Inn. Anya and Colleen had promised and delivered fixings for ice cream sandwiches. Anya’s chocolate chip and sugar cookies were enjoyed with and without ice cream. Drinks were poured and Dris’s delightful singing added to the festive atmosphere.

The coming of Beltane tended to bring out the best in people. This year, though, there was something on the wind that didn't feel right. It was more than her sister’s visit and Gérard’s dropping himself near her gate that had Colleen on guard. Even among the company of friends, she couldn’t shake the feeling of something not being right. The shiver that was often described as someone walking over one’s grave. Colleen MacLeod had always been good at guarding herself. Some things, however, were not were not so easy to hide.

More voices joined in the happy chattering. They eventually became a blur as a small voice caught her attention. Mama? It wasn’t young Maybelle, who was happily snacking on her strawberry ice cream sandwich. Had the girl been going on about being a flower girl for Dris and Rhys? Maybelle had clearly called her Ma’am. Haru had been talking about magic. Scarlett asked about tea. Mach was flirting shamelessly.

Again she heard Mama? coupled with the sound of a dog howling mournfully. Yuzuki’s dog, Koro, wasn’t howling. He was enjoying the attention of several of the Red Dragon’s patrons. The sounds had distracted her enough that she paused in mid sentence while speaking to Mach and gazed at the mirror behind the bar. Anya took note of the unusual break in her speech.

Desdenova might have been trying to distract her when he said, "Don't keep looking into the mirror, Collie, the Devil will grab you and drag you in." By then, however, not even the Devil himself could have kept her from what, no, who she thought she saw. More words from Des cut through the fog she’d been in. "Though mirrors do act as doorways."

The next time she heard it, Mama? she was touching the mirror. She saw the face of a small dark haired child that had formed in the mirror. Her breathing had become rapid. A myriad of emotions had flooded her senses; anguish, grief, and rage were strongest. She stepped back fast, almost tripping over Maybelle. The child was given an apologetic look before Collie bolted out to the porch.

She felt eyes on her as she fled the common room. Once she found her wits again, she asked after Dris. She heard Anya and Mach’s voices asking if she was all right. One said Dris was fine. Was he fine? Maybe they didn’t know, but she did. She’d sent out the emotional equivalent of Mount Etna exploding. Had Rhys not been there, she would have worried more for her fellow empath than she already did. She remembered thanking Anya and Mach, who was surprisingly tender given his usual devil-may-care demeanor, for coming to check on her. Etyyn was suddenly there; a presence as strong as hers had a way of making itself known like a whisper that slowly gets louder.

She heard herself saying, "A ghost.... a memory... someone's face. Someone that I haven't seen in a long time." Would they have better understood her horrified reaction to the suggestion of destroying the mirror if she revealed whose spirit it was that called to her from the other side? A long dead child, her child, that barely got to her fifth birthday. If the mirror was broken, it was hard to say what the damage to the pathway might be or to anyone near it. It was the voices of Her Boys, Dris and Rhys, that brought her back fully to the present. It was also them that got her home safely.

((Taken from live play. My thanks to those who took part!))
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Re: Echoes of the Past, Winds of the Future (See Content Warning)

Post by PrlUnicorn »

Later that night
From the journal of Colleen MacLeod

Anya and Mach that followed me out after I saw Shay in the mirror. I couldn’t bring myself to explain to them who I saw.

I have to ask, is some part of her still trapped in another place? If so, where is she? Has someone been tormenting her all this time? Was she never able to find peace? If it’s not Shay, then… who or what is it?

If it’s not what remains of my long dead daughter then it's a trap. Given recent events, it’s likely Gérard that set it. Before or after his visit is the question. At least this narrows the list of who he’s really after. And I won’t be fighting this battle on my own.
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Re: Echoes of the Past, Winds of the Future (See Content Warning)

Post by PrlUnicorn »

04/24/2021 - Gardentower

Maggie had Brian in her lap as he read to her. Mostly, he asked what the words were. "Can you spell it?" Maggie asked as she glanced from the book he was holding to the small pile next to her. "You remember the names of the letters?"

He pointed at them out of order, "I, n, e, cross it ..."

"Yes, you cross it, it's called T. What's that last letter?"

"It's funny lookin', Maggie! What's it's name?" Brian asked as he traced over the letter with a small finger. "Three sticks!" Brian beamed.

Maggie chortled. "It has three sticks, yes. It's called k. You have to put letters in the right order or they make a different word. Can you say them with me?" Maggie moved a finger over the letters as they read together. "K-i-t-t-e-n." She nodded in approval. "Good, put it together."

"Kitten!" Brian exclaimed proudly as he closed the book. Scampering off Maggie's lap he headed for the shelves of preschool readers. He put back one and grabbed another. "Red fish!" he shouted in triumph as he presented Maggie with Dr. Seuss's, One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish.

"Ok, this one then I need to get back to studying." Maggie smiled as Brian reclaimed his place on her lap.

Brian looked at the pile of books next to his cousin and frowned. "Too hard for me!"

"Give it time. You'll learn." Maggie ruffled his hair. She, too, looked at the pile; she had her work cut out for her.

"How long?" Brian turned a curious expression toward Maggie.

"It's different for everyone." Maggie opened the book and started reading to the boy. It'd be bath and bedtime for him soon.

When Rhiannon returned from shopping, she took care of getting Brian off to bed. The older children finished their project in the hydroponics labs before they got their own baths and were tucked in. This was their night to read to their parents. Once that was done, Maggie was able to ask Eregor a few questions about winding back time.

She left a note for Eregor; it was weighted down with a knickknack that looked like a police call box. Uncle Gory, can time be wound back so we can see someone at a certain place at a certain time? Not to interfere, but see to things from their point of view. I need a puzzle piece to fit. A book titled, "The Otherworld and How to Not Be Trapped There" was under the note. There was more to the question than she was ready to talk about, yet.

Eregor grinned when he saw the note, though his expression grew thoughtful as he read it. He took up a pen and jotted down a reply note.

Maggie,
There are a number of means to examine the timestream in detail, both mystic and mundane, and many that are equal parts of both. If we have not spoken by the time you read this, come and see me so that we may discuss what you need in more detail. If you time it right, I'll make you lunch.
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Re: Echoes of the Past, Winds of the Future (See Content Warning)

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04/25/2021 - Gardentower

Maggie was there for lunch on the following day. Before going to the kitchen to meet her uncle, she took a bit of time to gather up the books she'd been using for her research. They were volumes on different types of fey; specifically, Redcaps and Trolls. She set the books on a shelf in the kitchen to keep them away from the food preparation area. "Someone visited Gran a while ago. I need to know who it was. I was riding with Catie, Abby and Madison when I got hit with a wave of anger that could've knocked me off my mount. I know Catie felt it, too." As she talked, Maggie set the table. "She took the girls back to the house. When Finn, that's one of Gran's dogs, and I got to the gate, no one was there. I could still sense things in the air."

Brian poked his head in the kitchen to investigate the food preparations. Instead of ending the conversation, Maggie changed its course slightly as she helped the boy into his booster seat. "So, it's a mystery, you see. I'd like to find out who was there and what they wanted. I figured you'd be able to help me with that." Maggie washed her hands for the umpteenth time that day before handing Brian a freshly peeled carrot to take the edge off his hunger while lunch was being made. She jotted something in scripted penmanship for Eregor to read, it was not suitable for Brian to know. Finn said the visitor was a man. He said he smelled like something between troll and redcap with a side of death.

While Eregor was making lunch, Maggie was helping Brian with counting via some raisins.
Lunch consisted of grilled sandwiches--classic grilled cheese with tomato soup for Maggie, grilled Provolone and ham for Eregor--and tomato soup. While he grilled, he talked. "There are a number of ways, mundane or magical, to view what's past and see who or what had so disturbed your Gran. Given that it may well be a spirit of sorts, though, I think we should forego the technological methods and start with the mystic."

Setting down two bowls of soup, he went back to the kitchen to retrieve their sandwiches. "There is a trick I gleaned from IceDancer while I carried it... using water as a pathway to memories." He held up one hand. "That, in itself, is not what I'm suggesting, but it got me thinking. You've read the histories of Queen Teleperien's homeland, yes?" When she nodded, unable to speak with a mouth full of sandwich, Eregor simply smiled. "Tell me, then, what do you know of the Lady's Mirror?"

"The Lady Galadriel?" Maggie tipped her head. "I know it's a powerful artifact, but I'm not sure of all its ... properties." Maggie smiled slightly. " I'm pretty sure she was one of Lady Tele's ancestors." Maggie frowned some. "I miss her. They say she went back to Middle Earth."

"Yes, that Lady... her Mirror is probably the best known example of what I'm thinking, but hardly the only one. The surface of a pool or basin filled with water, calm, reflective... there's something about the nature of such a thing, the boundary between two states of being, water and air, that makes it ideal for seers to use." He took a bite of his sandwich, letting Maggie ponder a moment.

"Hmm... there's another book, maybe a biography that mentions a water artifact, but it's for drawing memories from people's minds. That method isn't going to work for this."

"No. That's more like what IceDancer can do, but we don't want memories. We want more of a birds-eye view. Unless you want to try convincing your Gran to let you into her memories of that night."

She shook her head. "No, I don't think so." She studied him a moment before saying, "Someone did reveal themselves and I couldn't get much out of her. She was as guarded on the matter as Gran would be."

He gazed back at Maggie, equally thoughtful. "Are you certain it is not something better left alone?"

"I won't know until I see who it was and what they wanted. Might be something simple, but ... between the weird faery circles and this, feels connected somehow. Morgan LeFay was snatched up not too long ago. Did you hear about that?"

"Nothing in detail, no."

"I was at Books and Brews in the restricted section." She looked at Eregor. "They do have books on things in there that aren't dangerous to everyone." She had a bit of her sandwich and handed Brian his cup of milk. "There was a ruckus and by the time I got outside, my mount had already landed to take me home and Ettyn was about to ... throttle what looked like Morgan." She shook her head. "But it wasn't Morgan, someone took his place."

Maggie took some time to enjoy a bit of soup before going onward. She cleaned Brian's face and hands before he left the table and scampered off to play. With the small boy out of earshot, she added, "It was nasty looking, long sharp teeth and black eyes like Uncle Ebon's. But no warmth like his can have. You know what I mean?" Maggie had a drink of her juice. "Whoever they were, they finally fessed up to having taken Morgan's place and that Morgan was going to be part of the Hunt." Maggie made sure Brian had closed the door to the playroom before she went on with her account of things. "So, I helped Ettyn do some searching. Alexia went with us." She tipped her head. "Before you ask, I had the flying mounts. I know better than to tempt things by walking into places where faery holes have been found." She chewed thoughtfully. "I also know enough about the Wild Hunt to understand that people are taken to be prey. So, if someone was rescued from that fate, they'd need to replace them. I didn't tell the others what I saw around those holes. I did ask other trusted adults for their ... help. Just as I've come to you about seeing what was. The two things seem connected somehow."

"The Hunt, aye." Eregor's expression grew... distant. Detached. "I never partook in the Wild Hunt. I would have been welcome, and at least once I was invited to join the huntsmen, but...." His voice trailed off, and he shook his head, as if banishing an annoying thought. "Very wise of you to avoid the fey holes. Ah, but you wanted to learn more of seeing things past!" With a brighter tone, he left the subject of Faerie behind and turned towards talk of peering through time. "I do think that a water spell would be the way to go."

"How about a lake or ocean water? Would they work?"

"Natural pools have their pros and cons for seeing beyond the here and now. On the plus side, they can be a focal point for magic in and of themselves, and you know that many have native spirits that may be coaxed to aid you. The down side is that open water is subject to the whims of nature."

"I was thinking about my connection to those places. There's a lake near Uncle Ian's cabin. You know it, I think. Family campouts and things."

"Connection would help."

"The lake is also the closest body of water to where things happened. Would you be able to join me at the lake tomorrow or is this something I should research more and do on my own?"

"I'll join you to assist."

"Anything I need to bring along?" She considered her own question. "I better bring Finn. He was there."
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Re: Echoes of the Past, Winds of the Future (See Content Warning)

Post by Mairead Harker »

27 Apr 2021 - Lake near MacLeod House

Morgan had graciously allowed Maggie the loan of a couple water elementals from Twilight Isle, but she hadn't brought them along, not this time. With Eregor's help, Maggie hoped to get a look at the person had not only upset her grandmother, but stirred up the ghost of a long dead relative. She crouched near the edge of the lake. The small mountain range, that served as Navarra's northern boundary, even in its reflection was majestic. Maggie lifted her head to view the melting snowcaps. "And, so, we begin," she murmured.

He raised a hand towards the lake, fingers spread wide, channeling his knowledge of time and his connection with the waters, hoping to weaken the barrier between past and present enough for Maggie to be able to see. A faint aura surrounded his hand, flickering between shades of blue and green.

Maggie squinted as if trying to force the scene into focus. She saw the point in time where she arrived at the gate then a couple of hours backward from that showed her part of the puzzle falling into place.

The woman's visage that had so quickly disappeared was speaking to her grandmother. “Why did ya let ‘im go, Katie?” Maggie had never heard that name in connection with her grandmother.

Maggie head tilted as she heard the response in Colleen's voice. “He did no’ fool me, Ce. He knows where those children are. Kill ‘im ‘n’ the knowledge dies wit’ ‘im.”

The teenager's eyes narrowed as the scene before her and Eregor seemed to freeze for a bit. "This is about missing kids?" She posed the question aloud, mostly as a musing before asking, "Uncle Gory? Does it sound like that to you?"

"It does, indeed." The Time Lord's expression darkened, like the summer sky with a storm on the horizon. "And also... Katie? Ce? Do you recognize either of those names? Yet that was definitely your grandmother. Or... a prior incarnation?"

Maggie's head shook. "No, not a prior incarnation. The one I know about, Granny Kirin, left Rhydin some time ago. Besides," Maggie gestured in an up and down motion with one hand, "the clothes Gran is wearing are familiar. I remember because she asked Catie and me to look after the Littles for a couple hours. She said something about needing to go to Old Market to pick out a birthday present." Maggie laughed. "She said it wasn't for me; it was the day before my birthday."

Maggie touched her lips with her index finger and shook her head. "We're missing something obvious here, aren't we?" When the commlink on her left wrist buzzed with her daily reminder list, the heel of Maggie's palm met her forehead. She muttered, "E. T. phone home," and started dialing the office at the Academy. When her mother's voice answered on the other end, Maggie asked, "Mama, who does Gran know named Ce?"

A quiet snorting sound escaped as Rhiannon Harker said, "Hello to you, too, daughter mine."

Maggie sighed. "I know you're busy, but the answer is very important."

Rhi muted the phone a moment to tell her receptionist to bring her next appointment in in five minutes before going on. "Maggie when was the last time you looked at the family tree tapestry on the old nursery wall at your Gran's?"

Maggie knew exactly what her mother was telling her, You know this answer. Think. "A while ago. Mama, some kids might be in really big trouble like ... could be killed trouble. I need to know who to look for to get answers!" She took a breath and looked at Eregor as she spoke in the phone. "Uncle Gory and I are out at the lake place. We used the water to..."

Maggie was not one to mince words when it came to the safety of children. Rhiannon cut Maggie off in midsentence. "Celia was my mother's sister's name. Your great aunt, but Maggie, she died a long time ago. Mother doesn't speak of her much these days."

"Thanks, Mama." After hanging up the phone, Maggie let go of a breath that she seemed to have held forever. The scene Eregor had brought to life replayed in her head a few times. "Mama said that Ce is ... was Gran's sister." Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. "That I remember, the nursery chart didn't have any grandchildren on it for her. The missing kids can't be her family." She crouched down to look in the water. "If that's the case, who or what woke her up?"
"And those who have not swords can still die upon them." - Eowyn, shieldmaiden of Rohan
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Mairead Harker
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Re: Echoes of the Past, Winds of the Future (See Content Warning)

Post by Mairead Harker »

"The pull of family upon one's spirit across the abyss of time is a strong one, especially if such family is lost. You're heard the phrase tugging at one's heartstrings before, yes? That's the feeling, not so much a cry as a tug, not heard but felt." Eregor fell silent, staring out across the calm lake waters. When he spoke again, the effect was almost startling. "A pull like that could easily stir a mother's spirit to seek help from her living kin."

Reaching inside his longcoat, he withdrew a thin cylinder, not his ever-present Sonic as Maggie might have expected, but something else. An small, opaque flask, capped tight. "What's that?" she asked. "Some Time Lord science?"

"Not quite." Eregor's smile was thin-lipped. "This was given to me by the Sisterhood of Karn, keepers of the Flame of Eternal Life. The elixirs they created using the Flame were rarely given, and usually only to Time Lords dealing with... troubled regenerations. Yet they can do so much more. This one, I'm told, releases a mist that allows a spirit that has passed to return to the living world, for a short time." A look of confusion crossed over his face. "I... forget why I asked for it originally, but it may be of use to you now."

Maggie studied the cylinder. "What you're saying is, this will help me ask her directly." She reached out for the cylinder before withdrawing her hand. "There's only one answer to that, Uncle Gory. There's someone you need to talk to. You might not remember who, right now, but if it was important enough for you to ask, you should keep this."

After regarding Maggie for a moment that seemed to last ages, Eregor slipped the vial back inside his coat. "Has anyone ever told you that you're wise far beyond your years. I'm not talking about old souls, either. I mean you." He flashed a grin. "So... there are other ways to speak with the departed. Who do we know that's channeled the dead before, hmm?"

A grin flitted across her lips. "A few people." She took a moment to think about things. "Parents, maybe?" Her head tipped to one side. "Me, but my contacts are generally children." A brow raised. "Pearl ... and Aunt Rhi.... " After a moment she gave him a look of mild disbelief. "Oh, was that rhetorical?"

"I was actually thinking of Doran."

"Oh, yes!" She smiled and nodded. "I didn't forget that. Just um.... if this gets into something really dangerous, I don't want Sylva to be upset with me for him maybe wanting to go wherever the path leads. You know?"

"That's a fair point... but you know he'll be upset if you don't at least ask."

"You are right," she agreed. "Who knows, she might want to go along. I'll call him and see what he says." She studied the water again. "I look at water a bit differently than before I held the Tower key."

"I know exactly what you mean."

"You have more reasons than I do. You ... I don't know the right word. Renewed, evolved, maybe?"

"You mean when I challenged Michelle? Or after that?" Eregor's expression grew thoughtful. "Yes... regeneration in such a situation, influenced by the Tower and the Isle as a whole, it tied me to that element like nothing else." Beat. "Almost nothing else."

She gave Eregor a thoughtful smile as she spoke in grandmother's native Irish. "Is é an teaghlach gach rud." After a moment, "Family is everything."

"That it is. Which brings us back to the question posed earlier: how do we contact your great-aunt?"

"We ask Doran for his advice first." She grinned. Maggie's expression was thoughtful and she tipped her head like a bird listening for a worm underground. "I'm going to need more of your help. A bonsai tree." She grinned. "Do we have anybody that works with stone? Metal's covered, that's Uncle Heph's area."

"Not sure. Do you know any sculptors?"

"No, but I could see if Lucy Mitford knows anyone. She has that gallery in the city."

"Good idea. In the meantime, I'll get a bonsai for you."

"Sounds like a plan!" She tapped her fingers as she counted off things. "Next stop... call Doran then Etude." There had been a few unnamed things counted off. She tipped her wrist to check the time. "I better get going. I have a class plan to write!" She reached to hug Eregor. "I'll see you for the bonsai tree once the music box planter is ready."

He returned the hug. "You know where to find me."

((My thanks to Eregor's player for his help with this piece!))
"And those who have not swords can still die upon them." - Eowyn, shieldmaiden of Rohan
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