@MadEmperor
Lenore had been gone for a long while; that in and of itself wasn't so unusual, the raven was a free spirit—even by bird standards—but she had indicated that she would be back at the nest by sundown.
"Maybe I should try to find her," Lanaya mused aloud, frowning out the window of her little treetop home. Norn, perched on a twisting branch above her, clucked softly.
"I know she can take care of herself," the witch sighed, getting to her feet. "But it's not like her to be late. Not when she gave us a time she'd be home." She pursed her lips, then nodded to herself briskly. "I'm going to look for her. If I'm not back in two hours—"
Before she could finish the sentence, the cacophony of a full murder of birds rose from just beyond the glade where her home tree grew. She caught a familiar outline rising above the trees, and...a stranger. A bird she didn't recognize. A juvenile crow, though it was difficult to tell at this distance. Lenore seemed to be trying to lead the youngster from the rest of the flock, who were clearly quite unhappy with the other two birds.
Grimr was confused by the vehemence of the birds' rejection. It wasn't like he even wanted to join a flock, or a murder, or whatever it was called. He wasn't going to be a bird forever; he had to believe that.
He was even more perplexed when a raven swooped in to scare the angry crows away. Awkwardly dodging other birds with all the grace of a bird half as developed, he slowly and hesitantly made his way to the raven. Even though it had helped him, he was too used to being afraid of everyone and everything to trust trying to speak with it. Because it had gone so well with the crows.
Larger than the crows she may be, but Lenore was severely outnumbered. At least, until Lanaya appeared at the base of the tree where the raven had perched with the youngling in an effort to avoid the diving murder.
The witch frowned up at the bullying birds. "Off with the lot of you," she shouted, throwing her hands up in a shooing motion.
Lenore squawked and fluttered down to her shoulder. Clucking, she looked up at the juvenile crow.
"Yes, I saw." Lanaya nodded and reached a hand up to the young bird. "It's alright, little one, I won't hurt you," she said with a smile. Though she spoke aloud, her beastspeak always seemed to translate for avian creatures.
The crow eyed her with a very human wariness. The woman lived in the woods like a witch; as far as he knew she would cook him in a stew or take his eyes for a spell. But... what if she could help?
How can I know that you won't?
Lenore clucked at him: Because I say so, you little runt. Now c'mere.
"Lenore!" Lanaya frowned at her. "Gently, if you please," she urged the raven with a sigh, "he's just a youngling." Looking up to the crow, she added with a small smile, "You don't have to come to me--but I have food and water and a safe place to sleep nearby. You're welcome to them all, if you like."
After some hesitation, Grimr nodded without considering that birds don't nod. He had hoped not to give that away just yet. Fluttering down to the ground, he asked, Where?
Both Lanaya and Lenore stared at him for a long moment, then exchanged a look.
"Ah...follow me," Lanaya offered, mildly bemused. Most birds didn't choose the ground, when tree perches were available--and they certainly didn't nod.
So. Not a proper bird then. Or at least, not a bird like any she'd known. But he didn't seem eager to share that, so she played dumb, turning and picking her way back along the game trail that led to the tree where she'd made her nest.
Grimr flew after her, flitting from tree to tree in an effort to not outpace Lenaya. He wasn't good enough at flying yet to keep pace any other way.
Are you a witch? Flit. You won't eat me?
"Yes, I am," she replied as they walked. Well, walked and fluttered. "And no, I won't. Not unless you give me very good reason to." She tossed a quick smile in his direction. "Ah, here we are."
Entering the glade, she gestured up to her "nest"--which was frankly a marvel of earth magic. A tiny house situated in the branches of the largest tree in the glade, woven together from vines, leaves, and other branches themselves. It was so well-crafted as to be almost invisible in the canopy, until it was pointed out.
You live... in a tree? The crow's voice was equal parts perplexed and awestruck.
But he had more important concerns and didn't wait for an answer. "You said you had food?"
Lanaya laughed quietly. "Yes, I live in a tree, and yes, we have food." She walked to the base of the tree and reached a hand up, calling down a ladder of woven vines with a twitch of her fingers. "There's a window on the northern wall--you can perch there for a while, if you like. I'll get us something to eat."
Grimr flew up to the window to wait for her to climb up.
The juvenile crow peered into the house curiously, but timidly. He had never seen a witch's house before. It was much less frightening than he had imagined.
Due to its location--and Lanaya's lack of need for extravagant space--the "nest" was really only one room: there was a small dip in the center of floor, packed with earth and stones to form a firepit, a sleeping mat pressed up against one wall, a wall of shelves carefully grown from the tree's branches, a small hand-made chest, and a frankly ridiculous amount of feathers littering the place.
A barn owl was roosting higher up in the branches that wove together to form a roof. He hooted softly at the strange bird who perched on the windowsill, though unlike the crows from earlier he seemed more curious than aggressive.
What? The fledgling flicked his tail in agitation. His tone was that of a petulant child. He was tired of birds judging him as if they knew he didn't belong among them. On further thought, people had treated him the same way when he was human.
Who are you? the barn owl asked with a slow, considering blink.
Finally making her way up to the platform outside her little tree-but, Lanaya nudged the moss-covered door open and added, "A good question; do you have a name, youngling?"
He hesitated, still not sure he could trust her. Grimr.
Who are you? he asked her and the owl both. And why help me? What's in it for you?
"Grimr," Lanaya repeated thoughtfully. "Not the most avian name." In fact, most birds she met didn't have human-sounding names at all.
"That's Norn," she introduced the owl. "I am called Lanaya. And you met Lenore here earlier."
The raven cawed and fluttered up onto her own perch in the woven ceiling.
"And I helped you," Lanaya continued easily, "because no one else seemed likely to. And you clearly needed the help."
... It's not my fault it's hard being a bird, Grimr said defiantly, not admitting weakness. But, considering he looked half-starved, he didn't need to.
"And how long have you been a bird, exactly?" Lanaya asked, taking the opening he'd given—whether it had been intentional or not. "You look like a juvenile crow—but that doesn't tell me much, all things considered."
Grimr winced. A few weeks, he reluctantly admitted.
With a sad croak as if he would be crying if he were human, he said, I... got cursed.
"Oh, little one..." Lanaya crossed to the window and held a hand out—an invitation, but not a command. "Can you tell me what happened?" she asked gently. "And...if it's not too much, could you tell me who you were before this? Anything you can tell me might help me figure out exactly what magic is affecting you."
Grimr looked at her hand, then at her face, gauging whether he trusted her with his fragile bird body. He chose to stay where he was, just in case. Though, the possibility of breaking his curse made him want to trust her.
I was living on the street in Ketra, with some other orphans. We--Well, we were thieves. I... got sent to rob this mage's house. And, well, he caught me. His statement was honest, for the most part, but he was clearly leaving out something painful.
Lanaya frowned. "And he cursed you for the theft?" she surmised, letting her hand drop. "Mmm. If you don't mind me asking, Grimr, how old are you?"
A juvenile crow was in its adolescence, but that still left a wide range for this poor child's age. He could be anywhere from twelve to sixteen or so, as far as she could tell.
I'm fifteen, he answered.
The crow hesitated, looking away guiltily. The theft wasn't why.
He attacked me and I... He croaked sadly. I... I didn't mean to! But I--I stabbed him. He--he--oh gods...
"Ah..." Understanding started to dawn. Lanaya turned to begin storming a fire in the small pit in the center of her home.
Hopping down from her perch, Lenore shuffled closer to the younger bird and began preening the feathers at the back of his neck—which truly were a tight mess after his run-in with the crows.
"Do you remember the spell?" Lanaya asked, not unkindly. "I know it must not be pleasant to think about, but the more I know of the magic used, the better I may be able to help you."
Grimr shook his head. I only remember him saying, "May he who brings my death become death's herald forevermore." as he died.
A curse made with one's last breath was powerful magic indeed. It would be difficult to break. Such spells had a way of persisting unless the spirit of the caster could be appeased or overpowered, and perhaps even then.
A deathbed curse. Oh dear.
Lanaya but her lip, not wanting to deliver hard news to the poor boy on an empty stomach. "Why don't you come inside?" she offered carefully, glancing over at him. "Or I could bring a bowl of stew to the window, if you prefer?"
Deciding he might as well come in, Grimr flapped over to a place nearer the fire. Stew?
He was a little more hopeful than before. The boy had all but lost hope that he could ever be human again. A slim ray of hope was better than anything else over the past few weeks. Even the thought of food that didn't squirm or have six legs was encouraging.
"Stew," Lanaya confirmed with a chuckle. Lenore clucked and gave the bird equivalent of rolling her eyes.
Silly amount of work for a meal.
"Maybe, but it's warm." She smiled at Grimr and ladled a bit of hot stew into a bowl before setting it in front of him.
Grimr dug in with all the voraciousness he could manage. This mostly consisted of picking bits out of the thick stew and greedily wolfing them down. By the time the small bowl was picked as clean as he could get it, he was full.
That was great, he said with happy rattle, Thanks!
So much better than bugs and worms.
Lanaya smiled over her own stew and nodded at him. "I imagine so," she chuckled lightly.
Lenore scoffed and Norn abruptly piped up, What he needs is a nice juicy vole.
Lanaya crinkled her nose at her flick. "Perhaps. But he is still new to this shape, it will take time for him to adjust."
I'm not eating dead things. I'm not going to be a bird forever either, Grimr responded defiantly.
He looked at Lanaya, You can help me... right?
"Oh, I apologize--there was rabbit in that stew, though I suppose you must have eaten around it. I'll make sure we stick to root vegetables while you're staying with us," Lanaya said quickly, apparently taking his assertion that he didn't want to eat "dead things" at face value.
She gave him a small smile when he actually asked for her help. "I...will do my best," she told him quietly, "but transfiguration magic is not my strong suit. And a death-breath curse...that is powerful magic." She did want to help him, but she didn't want to give him false hope.
Well... uncooked dead things... he muttered real quick.
At her response about his curse, he looked down. His hopes weren't crushed, but they were heavily dampened. Oh... he said dejectedly, what can you do then?
Lanaya looked at him sadly. "For now, I can give you a warm, safe place to sleep," she offered gently. "In the morning, I can examine your curse properly. It's a lengthy process, and takes quite a bit out of both the spellcaster and the curse subject, so I'd rather we try it after we have some rest."
Norn bobbed his head and swooped down to land on Lanaya's shoulder. Though his talons looked as though they should be digging into her skin, she gave no indication that she was in any discomfort. I will get you a vole, the barn owl proclaimed. Sounding mildly exasperated, he added, Lanaya-wing-sister can cook it, if you're going to be fussy about that sort of thing.
No! Err, I mean... please don't. Rabbit is fine. He groaned sickly at the idea, which was a very human noise from a bird.
Turning his head towards Lanaya, he asked, Where do I sleep?
Norn churred and grumbled something about demanding youngsters before giving Lanaya's hair an affectionate preen, then taking off through the window to begin his hunting for the night.
"Well, my flock usually perches in the hollows above us," Lanaya replied to Grimr's question, gesturing up to the woven canopy-ceiling above them. "But if you still aren't used to sleeping in trees, I could always make you a nest on the ground from some spare blankets, if you like?"
I'm used to sleeping wherever I can, Grimr answered, but blankets are better.
Once Lanaya had completed his "nest," the fledgling crow made himself comfortable. Before he could even express his thanks, he fell asleep.
He awoke late in the morning, having slept better than he had since even before his transformation. Stretching his wings, he groaned sleepily.
"Morning!"
It wasn't Lanaya's voice that greeted him, but the raven's: Lenore. She croaked and fluffed her wings from her perch in the ceiling above him.
Hush, a new bird--a small spotted owl--urged her from her own perch near Norn. It's time to sleep.
Lenore scoffed. For owls, maybe. To Grimr, the raven added, Flock-leader is out gathering herbs. She said to tell you there's some leftover stew keeping warm on the coals, if you want it.
Thanks. Grimr flitted over to the stew and gobbled down a piece of rabbit.
For the rescue too. I don't know what their problem was.
Unless they could tell I'm only a crow on the outside, he wondered.
That's usually it, Lenore noted, hopping back and forth on the windowsill. You look like a bird, but you don't act like a bird. Not all the way. It's a bit creepy.
Be kind, Gale, the spotted owl, chastised sleepily.
Lenore squawked. It's the truth! We're all used to it because we flock with Lanaya, but most birds would be able to tell he's...not-quite-a-bird.
I guess I have a lot to learn, don't I? He sighed. It... might be a long time before I'm human again.
If I ever am...
Lanaya will help, Lenore assured him, hopping in place again. She's good at fixing broken things.
The wrapped woven ladder that Lanaya had folded up the evening before suddenly twitched, then began to unfurl itself down from the nest's platform. Lenore squawked again. She must be back--she'll be glad you're awake.
Fearful instincts took over and Grimr flew up to the rafters to get out of reach of whomever it was.
Are you sure? It could be anyone! he said nervously, tail feathers twitching.
Lenore made a clucking noise that might have been laughter. "Witch, witch," she squawked. Lanaya can move the nest with magic. Not many others could do that.
"True enough." It was indeed Lanaya who climbed up into the nest, spooling the ladder up behind her. She looked around at her flock, eyebrow quirked. "Why are we discussing my magical abilities? Ah, good, you're up. Good morning, Grimr."
Grimr flapped down to a lower perch. Morning.
When are you going to check out my curse? he asked with the impatience of youth.
Lanaya chuckled and began laying out the herbs she'd gathered to dry. "I thought I might have breakfast first," she replied evenly. "Have you eaten already? I know there was stew leftover, but some nuts or berries would do you good--your body is different now, it needs a different balance in its diet."
I ate a little stew before you came back. He cocked his head. You mean I could have eaten nuts and berries all this time? Not just seeds and... He gagged slightly. ... bugs?
"Yes, little one," Lanaya laughed, though not unkindly. As if to emphasize her point, she removed two carefully wrapped leaves from the pouch she wore on her hip while gathering herbs and other supplies. Unwrapping them, she revealed a stash of seeds, nuts, and a few yellow berries.
"Here." She pushed one leaf toward the young crow. "They're all safe for birds, I promise."
Grimr flapped down to the leaf and hopped up to it. He tentatively crunched on a nut, making a pleased sound. It tasted great to his corvid taste buds.
Thanks! Crunch, crunch. It's tasty.
He continued eating hungrily. It was a veritable feast for his tiny, malnourished stomach. So much so, that he was going to make himself sick if left to his own.
"Whoa, easy, easy." Lanaya reached out, but hesitated before actually touching him or the food. She didn't want to frighten him, or make him think she was going to simply take the food away. She realized in the back of her mind that, despite knowing he was really a human boy, she was treating him as she would any young, malnourished bird she might have found.
"Here. Take a breath, and drink some water," she urged, pouring water from an earthen jug into a small bowl and then nudging that toward him.
Grimr knew that she knew more about what birds needed than he did, so he paused to take a break from eating to breathe. He took small, awkward sips that revealed he hadn't quite figured out how to drink properly with a beak. It was both amusing and sad to watch.
Lenore chuffed and fluttered down to the floor. Here. She dipped her beak into the water to scoop up a mouthful of water, then jerked her head back to swallow it. Like this.
Lanaya smiled to herself and continued organizing the herbs she'd gathered, starting to hum softly under her breath.
Grimr copied what the raven was doing and was surprised by how much easier the proper method was. I guess I need a tutor for being a crow, he remarked ruefully.
He hated needing help; it made him feel even more powerless than he already was. And chances were that the witch was going to want something in return for her help. In his experience, nobody helped anyone without a price—nobody but the Coyotes for each other.
I am a raven, Lenore corrected with a ruffle of her feathers.
Lanaya rolled her eyes. "Yes. You can tell because she's incredibly smug."
Lenore squawked in protest and the witch leaned over to stroke her breast with the backs of two fingers, chuckling. "They're a bit bigger, actually," she told Grimr as Lenore subsided with a happy chur. "And their tails are shaped differently, see? Oh, do you mind?"
She started to reach around him to point out his own tail feathers, but paused before she actually touched him, head cocked at him questioningly in a rather avian way herself.
His first instinct was to pull away, but Grimr fought it and nodded his assent. He twitched when she actually touched him, resisting his fears. It been a long time since he had human contact possessing any tenderness.
He was in dire need of a good preening, and maybe something even more extreme. He was quite dirty.
When the demonstration was done, he said. I think I get it.
"I'm sure there's plenty of little nuances you'll start to get the hang of," Lanaya assured him with a smile. Looking him over, she hummed thoughtfully, then offered, "I don't mean to be rude, but...perhaps Lenore could show you how to dust bathe? It might help you feel a bit better to be properly clean--I know I always feel better after a nice bath."
Dust bath? Grimr asked, perplexed, I thought birds used water.
Besides, he was too old to play in the dirt. He was practically an adult, damnit.
"Oh, they can," Lanaya assured with a small chuckle, "but for most birds, getting your feathers wet means you can't fly. It's usually safer to opt for a dust bath--of course, if you prefer, I can fetch some water from the stream? It'll just take a little longer for your wings to dry and be flightworthy again."
Grimr didn't have to think it over; he still wasn't sure of her intent, and the idea of being unable to get away terrified him. Dirt's fine.
And then you'll help me? he asked with an inquisitive croak.
Lanaya nodded, expression sobering a bit. "I will do my best," she told him softly and solemnly.
Lenore croaked from her perched on the windowsill. Come, youngling. Let's get you cleaned up.
Grimr answered by flapping over to join Lenore at the window.
He returned after a little while, looking like a whole new man bird. Landing on a low perch, he looked at Lanaya with an expectant tilt of his head. How do I look now?
"Very handsome," Lanaya assured him with a small smile. She had arranged a few sticks into some sort of glyph in the middle of her nest. There was a small pot—or, really, more of a cauldron—just starting to bubble in her fire pit.
"Come inside," the witch urged as she moved to the fire and stirred whatever the mixture was, first clockwise twice, then counterclockwise three times.
After some hesitation over whether to trust her, he fluttered down to stand within the glyph. He had nothing left to lose. And he would have to trust somebody sometime if he ever wanted to be human again.
What... He stepped back and forth nervously. What are you going to do?
"I am going to..." She trailed off, humming as she tried to think of the best way to explain it. "I am...essentially going to dissect the curse. Or, well, I'm going to look at it's inner mechanism, if that makes sense. Like taking a clock apart to see how the gears fit together. Except, since it's a spell, I can't actually take it apart--I have to make myself a window to look into it."
She paused, tilted her head at him. "It will likely feel very strange. But if at any point you feel pain, you must tell me, and I will end the spell. It isn't supposed to harm the subject."
Grimr suppressed the relief he felt at learning the process shouldn't hurt. He didn't want to show fear; fear was weakness. Go for it then. He wasn't rude, exactly, he was just impatient.
Lanaya gave him a small smile. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait just a little longer--this potion I'm brewing will make you more receptive to the spell. But it's almost done, just a few more minutes."
She stirred the contents of the small cauldron again, looking at him sidelong. "So. What will you do, if we can get this spell lifted from you?"
The answer caught the cursed boy off guard. After a lengthy silence, he answered uncertainly, I don't know.
Go back to my friends in Ketra, I guess. He said "friends" in such a way that made the relationship sound like all he had in the world. She also got the sense that his idea of friendship was a bit skewed.
"Oh?" She smiled at him gently, then leaned over her cauldron to squint at its contents. "It sounds like they mean a great deal to you—they must be very worried for you, if you've been missing for a few weeks now."
Gale gave a sleepy hoot from the woven canopy above them, and Lanaya glanced up with another soft smile. Maybe her own idea of friendship was a bit...different. "A flock is important," she murmured, reaching over to take a pinch of dried leaves and crumble them into the potion.
"What will you do when you are back with your friends?"
Keep surviving. Grimr said with a tone suggesting a shrug. Nobody else is going to look out for us but each other.
Anything is better than the orphanage.
Lanaya paused. She glanced at him. "Orphanage?" Her voice was still gentle--she wasn't going to push him to give her answers if he didn't want to, but she still felt that she had to at least ask.
Grimr lowered his head. A terrible place. They barely fed us; they beat us, and in my six years there, not one kid left. We were only there to be forgotten. So a bunch of us escaped.
If it wasn't for Kyne, we'd still be there. He's the oldest of us, and our leader, he explained. Sure, power's gone to his head a little, but he kept them alive.
After a moment of quiet, Lanaya murmured, "I'm very sorry you had to go through that, Grimr."
She continued stirring the contents of her cauldron. "How old were you when you left?" she asked after a moment, looking at him sidelong.
Twelve. Grimr croaked softly; he could guess where this was headed. I was orphaned at six. My mom... she got sick.
I don't even remember her face.
Lanaya glanced at him again. "I'm sorry."
She paused, then sighed and told him quietly, "I never knew my mother either. I was on my own out here quite young."
She suddenly smiled at Lenore fluttered over to perch on her shoulder and run her beak through her hair. "Though I suppose the flock I found for myself is quite a bit different from yours."
Yeah. None of us pick Kyne's hair clean. His tone suggested a smirk.
Why do birds act so differently around you? Is it because of your magic? he asked curiously.
Lanaya chuckled a bit at that and nodded at him, stirring the contents of her cauldron once more before she rose to her feet.
"I believe it is," she responded to his question. "Though I suppose beastspeaking isn't an inherently magical skill—I have simply always been able to communicate with birds."
She turned away from him to gather up a small earthen cup; she wore her usual attire, which tied around the back of her neck, revealing the long, jagged scars that ran between her shoulder blades.
I can actually-- Grimr's eyes widened when he saw her scars. What happened to your back?
It looked like whatever it was had hurt far worse than any beating. Bad as the orphanage was, they never did anything that cruel.
"I—" Lanaya looked back at him, eyes a little wide.
"I don't...know," she admitted after a moment. "It—it happened before I can remember."
She shook herself and smiled at him, the fear and uncertainly suddenly gone from her expression. "Now. Are you ready? I will give you the potion, then you should settle yourself in the center of the glyph formation while o cast the spell."
I'm ready, Grimr answered bravely.
Upon drinking some of the potion, he settled to the floor within the glyph. What should I feel when this stuff kicks-- His little, bird eyes suddenly dilated. Ohhh, there it is...
"It should feel like a slight tingle that starts in your extremities," Lanaya replied with an assuring smile. "And your body should start to feel more relaxed—don't worry, the effects pass very quickly, it should only be a minute or two. Which is long enough for me to cast the spell."
She settled herself cross-legged outside the glyph and let her eyes fall closed, starting to murmur a quiet incantation.
Grimr nodded in response. As her spell was cast, his mind started to clear as if he were in a trance. Magic circles appeared around him; a complex, shifting magical lock keeping chains of darkness wrapped around his tiny body.
Lanaya stopped her incantation and opened her eyes—she only had about a minute to study the spell's construction before her own magic waned.
Her lips moved silently as her eyes flickered back and forth over the magic circles, noting the interlocking segments and the cross-layers.
It was certainly an impressive piece of spell work.
As her own spell started to fade, her shoulders sagged and she released a sharp breath, blinking to clear her vision.
The spell would be exceedingly difficult to dismantle, and was set up to repair itself if it wasn't completely broken in a single attempt. Yet, the framework of the spell allowed for some wiggle room in how it expressed itself.
When sense returned to him, Grimr let out a groaning croak. Ugh... my head feels fuzzy. Did you find anything?
Breathing just a tad heavily, Lanaya nodded. "I believe so," she murmured, brushing her hair back from her face before rising to fetch a water skin. She took a few gulps. "It...it is a very complex spell. I will have to make some notes, try to figure out the best way to approach thing..."
She trailed off, crossing back to kneel in front of him and pour a bit of the water into a bowl for him.
Grimr drank greedily; the potion had left his mouth dry. After a while, he looked up with hope in his eyes. So you might be able to help me?
Lanaya sighed. "I want to," she told him honestly, "but...this may be beyond me. I...I think I know several ways I can mitigate the curse, but lifting it entirely..."
She looked at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, little one. I will do what I can--and perhaps we can find you someone whose power would be sufficient to break the spell."
Oh. Grimr looked as dejected as a crow could.
He looked up at her again, cocking his head. What do you mean... mitigate?
Lanaya sighed again, pursing her lips. "There...may be ways I can, if not remove the spell, then...shift it, slightly. But it will take me some time to work out which methods may have the most success."
Shift it? he asked, perplexed. Like... change the effect or something? Even I know "death's herald" is vague. I could have just as easily been a raven or any number of things.
Pretty glad it didn't turn me into a spider or a rat.
"Yes, very much like that," Lanaya said with a nod. "It is beyond my capabilities to reverse the transformation entirely, but I may be able to tweak its parameters."
She frowned in thought. "It will take me at least a day to study what I learned from the construction of the spell itself... You are welcome to stay here, of course, but would you rather explore the forests outside?"
After fighting to survive the wild for two weeks, maybe it'll be good to actually enjoy it. Grimr flapped to the window. Is there anything I should watch out for around here?
I'll go with him, Lenore offered before Lanaya could say anything. She fluttered down to land next to him on the windowsill and bobbed her head. The closer you are to Lanaya's nest, the safer it is. But I can show you around.
Thanks, Lenore. Maybe you could teach me how to fly better? Grimr asked as they took to the sky.
He was flapping too much, for a start. Nor was he very adept at finding updrafts.
Well, you certainly need the help. Lenore's tone implied that if she had been physically capable of it, she would have sniffed. Like this; watch me.
She beat her wings once to rise high enough to catch a stream of air, then simply let herself glide along above the treetops.
Okay. Grimr attempted the maneuver, but it took him a few tries to get it right.
When he succeeded, he cheered, Woo! Haha! I'm doing it! He flapped once for speed and caught up. This is so much easier!
Precisely. Lenore gave a raven's call and banked gently into the wind, coaching Grimr to follow her by bidding him to watch the minute adjustments of her flight feathers. Listen to your instincts--you may have been born human, but your body is a bird's now. It knows what to do, even if your mind is still unsure.
Grimr copied her, and as he stopped trying to force himself, his flight stabilized. He made a happy sound and did a loop in the air. Woo!
So how am I doing? he asked expectantly.
Not bad. The raven eyed him sidelong as he began playing in the air currents; it was typical behavior for birds who had first fledged their flight feathers--usually younger than he appeared, but she supposed she couldn't hold that against him, what with being cursed into this form and all. You just need practice; the more time you spend in the air, the stronger your wings will grow, which will increase your speed and control.
Thanks! Grimr answered, almost happily.
Returning to her side, he said, I shouldn't practice too much today. I might not be exactly the same after Lanaya... does whatever she's going to do. At least I hope so.
...Of course. Lenore couldn't say she truly understood all of her flock-sister's magics—she ever claimed to be a simple bird, at heart, and Lanaya's witchcraft wasn't something she could say she'd studied in any depth—but she did know Lanaya herself.
She knew her sister was worried she may not be able to help the young crow as much as he'd liked.
Is there... anything you want to show me, or should we just fly until it's time to go back? Grimr asked
Well, I suppose that's up to you, youngling. Lenore caught a pocket of warm air that buoyed her up several feet as she glided. The forests are relatively safe here; we could land somewhere, if you wished. Or we could return to the nest.
Grim caught the same pocket of air and rose to meet her. Despite himself, he found flight to be an amazing experience. Maybe being a bird wasn't all bad. I feel like just exploring for a while.
Grimr returned to the house late in the day and took up his perch. We're back! Flying is amazing when you're doing it right! he said, happier than she had thus far seen.
Lanaya glanced up at the sound of a familiar pair of wings—and one slightly less familiar—and chuckled at Grimr's change in demeanor. "I imagine so," she said as she crossed to the window to give Lenore's back feathers an affectionate stroke. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."
Lenore croaked happily and hopped up onto her shoulder to begin preening her hair as the witch crossed her small home again to an open tome she'd left by her small bed.
Grimr fluttered over to a position where he could see the open book. As expected, he couldn't make heads or tails of it; he could barely read common, let alone whatever the book was.
He cocked his head. What's that?
"My grimoire." Lanaya lifted the book up so he could better see, though she knew he wouldn't be able to read it. "It's where I keep a written record of my spells. And where I can work out potential solutions to new pieces of magic."
She tipped the book toward him a bit. "This here?" She tapped a pattern of interlocking rings drawn on one page. "This is your curse. Well, it's my impression of your curse from the spell we performed before."
He studied the image for a moment, mentally picturing the rings as physical objects. But he still couldn't make sense of it without understanding how magic worked. Have you figured anything out yet?
"Pieces," Lanaya sighed, turning the book back toward herself. "Just prices. There's...layers to this spell. I can see ways to remove one, but it conflicts with how I would remove another..."
What about shifting it?
Gale had evidently woken, piping up from her perch above Lanaya's bed. The witch bobbed her head from side to side. "That would be our best option. I think there might be several different ways to shift it though..."
Like shifting a puzzle cube into a new combination? Grimr guessed questioningly. It was the only way he could think of it.
He grew just a little worried. What would that do to me?
"Exactly like that." The witch beamed at him. "Well done."
At his following question, she sighed again and pursed her lips. "That is the problem, isn't it?" she murmured. "Each new...combination, as it were, will have a different end effect in the spell. And there are many different combinations. I've only worked out a few of them, and even those only in theory." She sighed again and gave him a concerned look. "I...I worry about attempting to adjust the spell without knowing with absolute certainty what it will do to you."
Grimr was quiet for a moment. "Unless you have some way of knowing that, the only way is to try anyway."
With no small amount of trepidation, he said, "Flying is great, but I'll... I'll never be truly happy as a bird. If there's any chance of being remotely human again, I have to take it."
Lanaya exhaled slowly, brows drawing together in a slight frown. "It--it is ultimately your choice to make," she murmured, almost reluctantly. "I just...wanted you to know that I cannot guarantee results. This will be experimental. In the truest sense."
I understand. Grimr thought for a moment. I'll keep thinking about it until you're ready. Maybe I'll feel different when the moment arrives.
Whatever I decide, I won't hold what happens next against you. Because I... He hesitated. I feel like I can trust you.
Lanaya stared at him for a long moment before dipping her head in a clear gesture of respect. "Thank you, Grimr," she murmured. "I understand why your trust does not come easily. I will do my utmost to deserve it."
She looked down at the grimoire for a moment, then closed the book and stood, stretching. "Come. Let's have something to eat, and come back and look at this after. Sometimes all you need is to look away from a problem for a moment for the solution to come to you."
That sounds good to me. I've eaten nothing but nuts and berries since breakfast. Grimr let loose an excited caw and flew down to watch her expectantly as she served up the food.
The young crow licked the remnants of his stew off of his beak and breathed a quiet, satisfied sigh. Delicious.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Lanaya chuckled as she began gathering up their bowls and dishes. "These need a wash; I'll just duck down to the stream quick. Care to accompany me?"
She glanced up at her woven "rafters" and added with a soft smile, "You could always stay here with the others. The owls will be properly awake soon."
I've been with birds all day. I'll go with you, Grimr said with an unbirdlike nod.
When she began to climb down, he flew outside and perched by the bottom of the vine ladder. While he waited, he gave his wings a quick preening like Lenore showed him.
Lanaya noticed him preening and smiled a bit to herself, but didn't say anything. She didn't want to embarrass him, but he seemed to be steadily becoming more comfortable in his avian shape. Which was a bittersweet thing, in and of itself.
She paused at the base of the ladder, realizing that she'd started to reach out to him as she would for any member of her flock. "Ah...would you like a perch?" She gestured up to her shoulder. "It is certainly not necessary, but...if you'd like."
Grimr answered by flapping up to her shoulder. It's easier than trying to keep pace with you, he said nonchalantly, attempting to cover for just wanting humanoid contact.
"Of course," Lanaya responded easily, adjusted her step slightly with the ease of many years of practice to better accommodate him as she made her way to the small stream that cut through their little glade.
Kneeling, she brought out the dishes that needed washing and set about scrubbing them clean. "Mind fetching a drying cloth out of my pack?" she asked Grimr as she worked, nodding to the satchel she wore slung over the shoulder he wasn't using for a perch.
Sure. He flitted to her other shoulder and started fishing for the cloth. It took him a few tries, but he pulled it out with his beak and presented it with a triumphant rattle. Everything was so much more difficult as a crow that even a simple task felt like an achievement.
"Thank you." Lanaya took the cloth with a smile and settled into the rhythm of washing and drying dishes. "What did you used to do?" she asked abruptly as she worked. "Before all this. When you were living with your friends—what did your average day look like?"
Usually? Grimr paused, hesitating, before realizing he'd already admitted to worse. Picking pockets. We had to survive somehow, and the orphanage proved we couldn't rely on anyone but ourselves.
"Well, yes." Lanaya sat back in her heels and tipped her head at him. "But aside from that. You know, for fun. Play. Didn't you have any hobbies? Anything you do just...because?"
We would have foot races sometimes. And we had a few games we'd play with the younger kids who weren't old enough to pull their weight. Grimr thought it over further; he had to grow up too fast for most games. I liked to watch the dragon riders take off from the barracks. I wanted to be one for a while, but that was never going to happen even before this.
"Why not?" She started stacking the cleaned and dried dishes. "Even if you didn't have a beastspeaking gift before your transformation, it isn't always necessary. I know some dragons can form a link with their rider all on their own."
Yeah, sure, he scoffed, because they definitely give street rats that honor. I'd be lucky if they tossed me back into the orphanage.
Lanaya gave him a sympathetic look. "I wouldn't know," she murmured, "I'll admit I am unfamiliar with most of the customs of townfolk. Or, well, cityfolk, I suppose."
You're not missing anything special, just a whole lot of people squished together, Grimr said dismissively. And the only birds are pigeons; you'd hate it. They aren't worth talking to.
He could beastspeak before, but only stray cats and the occasional dog were worth talking to. And most of them were too worried about their next meal to bother with him. Or maybe he just wasn't that good at it before.
"Oh, I quite like wood pigeons," Lanaya noted, standing. "Though they do tend to be terrible gossips. I wondering if their city cousins are the same..."
She flicked her hair over one shoulder to free up space for him to perch on the other as she set off back to her nest-house. "You said you would play with the younger kids in your group?" she asked blithely. "What sort of games? Did you have a favorite?"
Grimr flitted to her shoulder for the trip back. We I guess I enjoyed horseshoes. I was good at that.
Lanaya smiled, glad to have got him thinking of something he enjoyed. "You'll have to teach me sometime," she noted as they reached the base of her tree. She stepped onto the lowest rung of her woven ladder and gave a little flick with her fingers. The vines began rolling back up autonomously, hoisting her up toward the nest.
Grimr flew up to wait for her on his perch.
Once she was inside, he asked, Are you about ready to try?
Lanaya crossed to put her dishes away before answering him. Eventually, she rose and turned to face him with a sigh.
"Yes. But I must warn you again, this will be experimental. I cannot guarantee what will happen."
I know. Grimr's voice was nervous but determined; while terrifying, it was a risk he had to take. But I don't want to be this way forever. I'm willing to risk it.
"Alright." She bent to retrieve a bit of charcoal from the firepit and began sketching a rune circle onto the floor of the little tree-hut. "You'll need to stand in the center of the circle while I work the counterspell," she told Grimr as she worked. "But I want you to promise me that if at any point you feel uneasy about this, you'll tell me, and we'll stop."
I promise, Grimr vowed, determined to see this through.
The former human fluttered down to the center of the circle and cocked his head as he studied the symbols. What do those symbols mean? Do they focus the spell or something?
"Or something," Lanaya said with a nod. "It's like...instructions, I suppose. Since the spell already affecting you has an existing structure, I have to...write out, as it were, how my own spell is going to interact with it. For now, we're just going to see if we can shift that base component: transfiguration." She gave him another sympathetic look. "I'm not actually expecting this to do much--but it should lay the groundwork for further spells, which means the next thing we try will be easier."
Grimr nodded. I'll try not to get my hopes up.
While it would take a miracle to make him human again, he was beginning to hope that he'd eventually get some of his humanity back. The experiment would either kindle the embers of that hope or all but extinguish them.
"Alright." Finishing with her rune circle, Lanaya stood and gestured to the center of it. "Now, try to keep as still as possible; this will probably feel odd, but it shouldn't be painful--if at any point you start to feel anything other than pins and needles, you must let me know, okay?"
Okay.
Grimr prepared himself and made himself still.
Lanaya nodded, then took a step back and held her hands out toward the circle, palms open and parallel to the ground. She began a quiet incantation; magic gathered around her fingertips and started to trickle in a mostly-invisible, shimmering dust down onto the runes. Where it touched her charcoal marks, it followed the lines like a river flowing through its bed, until the grayish streaks on her wooden floor all began to glow with a soft, green-gold light.
Grimr's keen eyes followed the dust and took in every detail as the light flowed over the runes. He steeled himself as he himself was bathed in the same light. The feeling of pins and needles washed over him, but he didn't feel uneasy beyond the usual hesitance of one who'd never been on the receiving end of a spell by choice before.
Lanaya's brow furrowed as the spell began to tug at her powers—though it was a simple enough casting, it required an intense amount of concentration to keep to the steady stream of magic required without overloading it.
Eventually, Grimr's feathers would begin to pick up the same glow as the rune circle. Once his whole body was awash with it, Lanaya gasped quietly and dropped the spell, taking a hazy step back as she blinked herself back to the present.
She looked at the little crow. "How do you feel?" The glow had yet to fade, which wasn't entirely unusual, though...were his feathers...changing color?
A dark, green-gold coloration spread over his form as if her magic had become part of him. In a sense, that was exactly what she had done by adding to the spell affecting him. Still, it was a curious reaction.
Grimr examined one wing. Umm... Should I be green?
Lanaya huffed a quiet laugh as she looked him over. "Well...it is not an entirely unknown side effect for this sort of spell—some sort of physical manifestation of the magic interacting with your form. Don't worry, it shouldn't be permanent."
I wouldn't worry if it was. I'm already a bird; what's so much worse about being green too? he asked with an uncomfortable, rueful chuckle.
So... does that mean your prep spell worked?
She nodded. "It does. My magic has a foothold in the spell now; it's a temporary measure, so we'll need to try our "shifting" of the curse's mechanisms within the next few days before I would have to recast this spell."
Maybe in the morning then? Grimr asked. I have a feeling being fully rested for it is a good idea.
"That is probably our best option," Lanaya agreed with a nod. Brow furrowing just a bit, she cocked her head at him. "How do you feel? No other effects from the spell?"
Nothing to worry about; just feeling a little green. There was a smirk in Grimr's voice that he hadn't had before.
But, seriously, I'm fine. Just tired.
Lanaya chuckled and from somewhere in her woven rafters an owl gave a sleepy hoot that somehow translated as an exasperated groan.
"Well, I'm glad you're feeling alright." She smiled at him, then began tying her hair up out of her face as she puttered about the small nest. "There should be some dried meats in that cabinet there, as well as some fruits and nuts if you get hungry. I should be out until around midnight—it's near full-moon, I need to harvest some particular herbs by night."
Grimr nodded with an affirmative croak. Okay. Good luck.
After he watched her leave, he fluttered down to nestle in the little bed she had made for him.
The following morning, he was eating breakfast of the same dried meat, fruit, and nuts. Pausing, he asked curiously, How did the herb hunt go?
Lanaya had returned in the early hours of the morning, and she was still yawning and coming sleepily to full consciousness when Grimr asked his question. Through a wide yawn, she mumbled, "Good, good. Norn is always helpful looking for moonweed."
The barn owl hooted a sleepy confirmation from above them.
As she moved to begin brewing some tea, Lanaya added easily, "You should come along next time. Witchcraft relies heavily on your natural resources, it's always good to learn more about what's around you."
What good would knowing how to find magical ingredients do me? I'm not a mage, as far as I know. It wasn't that he wasn't curious, he just didn't know what good it would do. Besides, even if I was, I'm not in any shape to practice magic.
"Perhaps not now," Lanaya said easily, "but you could be. You clearly have an eye for the intricacies of spell work." She gave him a quick smile. "You don't have to if you don't want to, of course. But I'm happy to show you what I know."
I... I do? Grimr was surprised by how happy that made him. Y-you would teach me? Would that make me your apprentice?!
Lanaya chuckled, pleased he seemed so excited by the idea. "I would certainly do my best to teach you, if you like," she assured him. "But I should warn you, magic isn't for everyone—even if you have a knack for it, you may decide you don't wish to practice." She shrugged. "I'm not holding you to anything, of course. And it's just an idea...just something to consider when you think of next steps."
"Gotta get through the first step before anything else. I have to have hands to do much of anything, right?" Grimr asked uncertainly, not actually knowing if that was true. "I assume."
"Not necessarily," Lanaya mused, only half paying attention. "True, most witchcraft requires a certain amount of dexterity—and thumbs—but some spells can be accomplished with the bare minimum. Maybe a rune pattern of laid sticks."
Grimr crunched down on a nut. Well, let's see what happens when you tweak my curse. I would definitely prefer to have thumbs again.
"Noted," the wild witch chuckled. She tipped her head slightly at the young crow, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "So you do think you'd enjoy it, then? Learning the craft? Or at least—you have a real interest in it?"
The crow nodded vigorously. Yeah!
He paused to regain his cool. I mean, yes. I think I'd like that. That mage's house was amazing. Well, until the whole 'turned into a bird' thing.
"Oh, I imagine it was." Lanaya gave him a small smile. "I'll admit, I've not actually met many other practitioners. My...lifestyle, I suppose, doesn't really lend itself much to socializing." She tilted her head in rather avian expression. "But of course I'll be happy to teach you my craft, if it interests you. Once who have a foundation, I'm sure you could find any number of teachers who might use magic in a less, ah...unpolished manner than I do."
Do you really think I care about polish? Grimr commented with what would have been a smirk if birds had lips. If it works, it works.
More importantly, when do we start?
Lanaya smiled at him and stretched her arms up over her head, twisting from side to side to crack her spine. "Soon. I'm going to place a protective ward around the nest to make sure that the spell work doesn't draw any unwanted attention. Should only take me about ten minutes."
She gestured to the remains of their breakfast. "Finish that off, if you're hungry."
Grimr didn't need to be told twice, as he gobbled up her leftovers as swiftly as a bird could manage. When he finished and started to watch her work, the strange thought struck him that he missed burping after a meal. Would he get to be human enough for the little things? Or would the spell somehow make things worse? Still, his mind was made up.
Warding the nest was a simple enough process, and once she was done Lanaya turned back to her strange little guest. Her expression had lost its usual calm half-smile, eyes serious as she looked him over.
"I've given you every warning I can about this," she told him gently. "I believe I can shift this curse, but not cure it. I don't know exactly what that will do to you. Are you sure this is what you want?"
He understood the risks. At least, he thought he did. Yet his only other choice was to be a small, frail bird for the remainder of his lifespan. He didn't think he could live with himself if he didn't at least try.
The crow nodded. I'm sure. I have to try. I'd regret it if I didn't.
Just tell me what you need me to do.
"Hold still." Lanaya settled herself in a cross-legged seat across from him. "This should only take a few moments."
With all the preparations they'd made and the studying she'd done of the curse itself, it really only took three...gentle...twists of the magic. A tug here, moving the shape-changing piece just a bit to the side; a slight pull there, trying to loosen the way the curse had latched onto his misdeed, and...the beginning of the unravel of a knot.
Magic flowed over and through him, making him feel as if he were being both stretched and squeezed at the same time. His very bones felt like they were vibrating. But, other than that, he didn't feel any different.
I feel something, but not en--Gah! His entire form seemed to ripple, his feathers sticking out at odd angles as muscles bulged.
"Grimr?" She couldn't stop the spell halfway, or the backlash would harm them both. She could adjust her endpoint though, and did so quickly: two twists rather than three.
"Are you alright?" she asked urgently as she tried to guide power through the last pull of magic. The third thread of the spell was abandoned, but it could always be reignited if they wanted to try again. She was more concerned about the young bird's--boy's--immediate well-being.
Don't--argh!--stop... It just hur--
His concentration broke as his body haphazardly pulsed. With each pulse, he swelled a little. He was changing, but into what she had no way of telling. Still mostly bird, at least.
Lanaya came to the end of the spell with a panting breath, "watching" the last of the magic settle around Grimr's changing shape--not with her eyes, but with whatever sixth sense it was that allowed her to call on it in the first place.
Though the spell was complete, she didn't know how long it might take for the final effects to make themselves known. "Can you hear me?" she asked softly, kneeling down in front of the not-quite-a-bird. She didn't want to risk touching him.
The new creature that he had become shuddered one last time, shakily croaking, "Yes." He uncurled to look up at her. He seemed to be roughly humanoid, though still more bird than human.
Lanaya frowned as she looked him over, concerned. "How do you feel? Are you in any pain?"
"Feel... weird. Like... dunno..." ... like I just got beat up or something. Grimr was having trouble speaking, but the fact that he could was a step in the right direction. With practice, it might get better, but beastspeak would still be easier.
"Mm." Lanaya frowned, starting toward him, then hesitated. "May I examine you?" she asked gently. "It will help to get a better idea of what exactly our fiddling with the curse accomplished. Oh, before that—"
She turned and rummaged through her small trunk of clothes, emerging with a wrap of some sort. She held it out to him. "Here. I'm not sure what your body's current temperature regulation is like, you'll probably need this."
The diminutive birdman nodded in assent. Taking the wrap, he covered what he could, leaving his wing-arms exposed to allow flight if it were still possible. Clothes. I almost forgot what that felt like.
He looked at his strange, avian hands and flexed what appeared to be thumbs. Stubby, taloned thunbs, but thumbs all the same. He looked up at her with a happy sound. "Thumbs! I have thumbs!"
"You do," Lanaya laughed softly. She circled him carefully, looking him over and casting out a sensory net with her magic, but keeping some distance. The spell had completed, but they were in uncharted territory--she didn't want to add too much new stimuli at once.
"Well...I don't think this is permanent, but it's a start." She cocked her head. "I had to cut off the third piece of the spell; it was just too much magic moving through your system."
Grimr crossed his arms. Gods, he can do that now. "I could've handled it..." he groused, though it was clear that he wasn't really confident of that. He was just too tough to admit it.
Lanaya gave him a sharp look; it was an odd contrast to the usual vague gentleness of her manner.
"Consider this your first lesson in magic, little crow: you have limits, and if you don't learn them, you die." She arched an eyebrow. "No amount of posturing is going to save you then."
Grimr gulped and nodded in understanding as the danger sank in.
"Will I ever... be able to take more?" he asked, not knowing if magic was something you built up resistance to or if it was fixed.
She shrugged. "Possibly. It depends on a number of factors, not least being your own natural propensity for magic, which has yet to be properly established."
Glancing him over, she added, "Magic use is rarely about how much one can take, however. More often than not, it is simply...creative problem solving, shall we say."
"How do we f--f..." He couldn't quite get the word out, so he switched to beastspeak. How do we figure out if I actually can do magic? Is there some test I can do?
"Well, there's a variety of ways to test magical aptitude." Lanaya gave him a slightly sterner look and added, "All of which we can address later, after you've had a chance to adjust. For now, let's start with first steps. Literally."
She backed up a few paces. "Can you walk to me?"
The bird-boy nodded, taking an uncertain step forward. The first few steps were shaky, even making him stumble a couple of times. But through force of will, he kept at it, getting steadier with each step until he reached her.
"Easier than learning to hop around or fly. Though, shit, I'll have to learn flying all over again. Assuming I even can like this."
Lanaya hummed softly in the back of her throat, smiling a bit. "Perhaps best to leave that for later," she suggested. "Walking steadily will likely be enough of a challenge for now."
She glanced out the window and tilted her head, considering. "If you're comfortable with the idea, we can try getting you down onto the ground? See how you fare on uneven earth."
Grimr followed her gaze, and, though he couldn't see from his new height, he imagined climbing down the ladder and slipping. He shuddered at the thought. "It's the climbing down I'm worried about. And then back up."
"Yes, that may be a problem..." Lips pursed, she looked from him to her woven ladder and back.
"If you are comfortable simply holding onto the ladder," she said at last, "I can move it with magic. We could even tie you a safety harness in case your grip loosens."
Grimr briefly tilted his head in thought, flexing his hands a few times before nodding. "I'm pretty sure I can keep a grip, especially with these bird talons."
"But if you think a harness would be a good idea, I wouldn't have a problem with that."
"Better to play it safe," she said with a decisive nod, returning her attention to the small chest where she kept her few clothes and other knickknacks. "I have some rope in here...somewhere...ah!"
She straightened up holding a length of rope and turned to hold it out to him. "Here--if you need help, just let me know, but it's probably best if you sort out what feels most secure to you in this form."
The bird-boy nodded and started experimenting with the rope, looping it around himself in various configurations to see what felt right.
He paused to look up at her. "I... well, I want to thank you again... for all this. I don't think I could have survived much longer out there alone."
The witch smiled at him gently. "Of course," she murmured. "I couldn't very well just leave you on your own, could I?"
She very much could have, but it was clear from her easy, straight-forward tone that such a thought simply never would have occurred to her. It just wasn't her nature.
"You're the first adult I've met that would stick their neck out for a stranger. Because of that, I'm honestly surprised I trust you. But I do."
He cinched the rope tight and nodded, moving on as if his prior statement had been about the weather. "That should hold, don't you think?"
Lanaya frowned, but chose not to question that for the moment. From what little she knew of the joy, it wasn't hard to guess just what sorts of adults he's dealt with in his young life.
She tested the tension of his harness with a few quick rugs, then nodded. "Seems secure. I'll climb down first, then call up to you when I'm ready to lower you in the ladder, alright?"
She shimmied down from her treetop home with the ease and speed of many years of making the same journey both up and down. Once her feet where in the grass, she tipped her head back and called, "Ready? Just step into the vine ladder and hold on."
Grimr carefully climbed down onto the topmost rungs of the vine ladder and held tight. As the ladder began to move, his grip tightened further, his talons digging into his perch. By the time he reached the bottom, he had left gouges in the rungs.
"Well, that was exciting, and not in a fun way."
"Are you alright?" Lanaya had tight lines around her eyes, the only sign that her use of magic might have been tiring her. She was clearly more concerned with her young charge, offering a hand to help steady him as he got off the ladder even as she looked him over. "Do you need a moment?"
He stubbornly brushed off the support and stepped away from the ladder. Though slightly shaky and taking every step with deliberate care, he seemed stable enough. "I'm good so far. Though it does hurt my pride a little to need so much help."
Lanaya rolled her eyes slightly. "Well, look at it this way--how long did it take you to learn to walk as a human? A year? Two?" She shrugged. "You've only had this body for an hour or so, and you're already toddling. That's rather impressive, comparatively."
Grimr laughed. It was a bit like a series of caws, but he hadn't been able to do that as a bird. "Well, when you put it that way, I guess it is."
"So what's the next destination gonna be?"
"Mmmm." Lanaya tapped one finger to her lips in thought, looking around. "I suppose we should start with just getting you to the stream and back. It's probably one of the more frequent errands you'll need to run once you start learning spellwork."
Grimr nodded, beginning the laborious task of accomplishing that very trek. He was slow for the first circuit to and fro the stream, taking each step with care. The second time, he went at a more normal pace, only to trip and fall about halfway to the stream. With her encouragement, he got back to his feet on his own and kept going.
The second fall got him tangled in some vines. He flailed and cursed, but frustratingly, he couldn't seem to free himself. He couldn't get the right leverage to claw himself free, even if he had thought of doing it.
"Easy, easy, you'll just make it worse," Lanaya said soothingly as she approached. She'd wanted to let him work himself out of the tangle, but after a minute of thrashing it became clear that was not going to happen this time. "Here, hold still."
She lifted a hand and murmured under her breath. The vines around him shuddered, then slowly started to peel away from his form, slithering back across the ground like snakes rather than plant matter in response to her spell.
She dropped her hand, breathing a little harder than normal and blinking rapidly to clear her suddenly fuzzy vision.
Grimr pushed himself to his feet with a groan. "Thanks," he said, clearly frustrated.
But then he noticed her breathing and, worriedly, asked, "Lanaya? Are you okay?"
"I--" She swallowed and blinked. "I'm alright. Just...tired." With a faint smile, she explained, "Magic use can be very taxing on the body." And she had performed a number of quite complicated spells in relatively close succession.
"Do we need to take a break?" he asked, head cocked quizzically to the side. He didn't like to admit it, but he could use one too. "I'm actually a little tired myself."
The witch nodded with a little smile in his direction. "That's a good idea."
She settled herself onto a moss-covered stone that jutted from between the roots of an old oak. "One of the drawbacks of magic--spellwork may seem like the easier option, but in many situations it takes just as much or more effort than simply accomplishing a task the usual way."
Grimr found a seat on another stone and nodded. "So, don't use magic for things you can easily do without? That makes sense."
"Though I guess it'll take me a while to know when magic will be wasted effort."
"A while" was a relative term; in Grimr's case, Lanaya was surprised he began to familiarize himself with his limits as quickly as he did. While he didn't quite take to the kind of spellwork that she preferred--channeling natural energies into her Craft--he did surprise her with a penchant for potion-making.
"I'll need to get you a proper copper cauldron," the witch noted as she climbed into her nest and saw him already at work. Norn, sleepy with the sunrise, hooted an approval from his perch above Grimr's head, where the owl was observing his work.
It had been a little less than three months since her flock had taken in the cursed little crow, but he fit into their home with surprising ease.
"Here." Lanaya crossed to show him the herbs she'd been out picking. "You needed more meadowsweet, right?"
"Yes! Thanks!" the little birdman squawked appreciatively, deftly plucking a sprig of it and tossing it into his cauldron. The color of the brew took on a yellow hue. He seemed excited by this.
Over the past couple of months, he hadn't reverted in any noticeable way, aside from the return of a few avian mannerisms. He didn't seem to get how lucky he was in that regard, and he was already eager to try again to manipulate his curse. However, this was tempered by an even more powerful desire to learn.
Starting to wrap up the other herbs she'd gathered, Lanaya glanced at the potion and nodded approvingly.
"A few more months and you'll be better at brewing than I am, apprentice," she noted with a pleased chuckle.
"Really?" Grimr asked happily.
"Though, it's not exactly spellcasting," he added with some disappointment. He had really hoped for something more active.
Lanaya gave him a sympathetic look; technically, while one didn't need a natural aptitude for magic to perform basic Craft, it certainly helped. Her own earth affinity powered her spells almost as often as witchcraft did.
"Not yet," she told him with a shrug and a quick pat on the shoulder. "But you're getting better at that, too. And there's no shame in playing to one's strengths--you'd be surprised how versatile alchemy and potion making can be."
"Is it true that alchemical potions can even permanently affect the body?" he asked, though she had long since made sure he was keenly aware that trying to cheat the curse was a dangerous proposition that always carried serious risks. But that didn't stop him from thinking about ways it might be done. "Hells, temporarily would at least be something."
Her look turned a little sharp as she answered carefully, "It is...possible. But combining alchemy with other kinds of magic is rarely a good idea. Most alchemists who have tried end up..." She tried to think of a tactful way to say "exploded", failed, and huffed out an exasperated breath. "Let's put it like this: I have given you very few hard and fast rules. Unsupervised alchemical experimentation is now one of them, understood?"
It was true: she tried to respect Grimr's independence as much as safety allowed in his training, and had only given him a handful of strict rules in his apprenticeship. She had to hope he wasn't going to fight her on this one.
"I know, I know!" he said with all the huffiness of an exasperated teenager. "Even if I was a master, actually trying it would be dangerous."
Of course, teenagers often said such things and then went and did what they were warned against anyway. Even if they meant every word when they said it. Because these were things that only happened to other people.
"Mmmm." The witch gave him a long, hard look, but ultimately decided not to push the point. For now.
"Perhaps we can find you a proper alchemist to speak with," she sighed eventually, moving to rummage around through her storage chest. "Someone in one of the larger cities, maybe..."
Finding the poultice she'd been looking for, she unscrewed the lid of the jar and reached up to begin smearing the greenish, minty paste over her shoulder blades as best she could. The scars on her back occasionally ached after work like foraging, and it wouldn't be a ritual Grimr was unfamiliar with at this point--even if Lanaya didn't exactly invite questions about it.
The idea of that made him visibly uncomfortable. He hadn't once thought of going back, least of all as he was now. The boy could easily imagine ending up in some menagerie, made to entertain gawkers, lest he feel the lash.
"As if anyone but you would teach me..." They were more likely to want to study him as a specimen.
Lanaya sighed quietly as she screwed the lid back on her jar of poultice. "There are places where we could find someone who would not only be willing, but happy to teach you," she told him--as though she hadn't spent the whole of her life hiding in the woods herself.
Strange, how being responsible for someone else made her more willing to explore, in a way.
"Particularly in Serendipity," she noted thoughtfully. "Maybe Selevea..." It would be a long journey, but if they could find him a proper tutor, and some answers, well worth it.
"Is Serendipity really that accepting?" Grimr asked skeptically. The idea that there was anyone as willing to teach a 'filthy orphan' magic as Lanaya was difficult to believe, let alone one in the body of a diminutive crow-person.
Or a murderer, he thought numbly, careful not to beastspeak it.
"Well, Serenians as a whole tend to be more open-minded about odd magics," Lanaya replied with a shrug. "But...people are people. Anywhere. Some will be kind, and others will be cruel. It's a matter of finding the right ones."
True, she lived a fairly solitary life mostly to avoid the cruel ones--but she'd known plenty of kindness in her life, despite her early hardships. And though he was happy enough with her flock and her nest and her lessons now, she worried that sooner or later Grimr would want more from his life; a hermitage in the forest wasn't for everyone.
Once she taught him everything she could, there was a very real possibility that he would start longing for independence. He knew it as well as she did, though he didn't like to think about it. Learning to trust someone else was a frightening proposition. But he felt sure she wouldn't leave his education to just anyone.
"Am I really learning so fast that we need to be talking next steps?"
Her smiled softened and she patted his shoulder as she glanced into the cauldron again. "Perhaps not just yet," she conceded, dropping the point for the time being.
"Now. How are you testing this concoction?"
"Not on myself, clearly," he joked.
He cleared his throat. "Drip some on a plant, see if it grows."
She nodded. "And what time range are you giving yourself? We talking minutes, hours, days...?"
As a general rule, the more potent a potion, the more quickly it worked--but there were tweaks that could be made to adjust for a longer adjustment period but also a longer-lasting effect and the like.
"Minutes to start working, about half a day to gradually reach full effect," Grimr answered as if giving a report to a professor, "to go easier on the subject."
After all, he knew from experience how painful a rapid transformation can be.
Lanaya nodded approvingly. "And how long should the effect last?" she asked as she stepped around him to start tidying up her little corner of the nest--it was a small structure, and with a new person taking up space, she'd done her best to divide what had once been her sleeping space into two with a "privacy screen" of sorts made of vines and leaves to section off an area for Grimr to claim.
"At full, only a few minutes, but it has already done it's job by then," Grimr answered. "Assuming I didn't go wrong somewhere in tweaking the formula. We both know how my last attempt went."
Who knew plants could scream?
Lanaya winced at that and nodded. It had taken nearly a full day for her to untangle the knots that attempt had made of the minor ley lines that ran through and around the nest.
"Do you have some time before it's ready to test?" She nodded to where Lenore was napping on the window ledge. "Perhaps you could exercise your wings a bit."
"It has to cook for another few hours, so... I guess I could do that." The crow-boy shrugged.
Looking up at her, he asked, "Do you mind keeping an eye on it for me?"
"Of course." She flapped a hand at him. "Now go, go on! You've been cooped up in here nearly all day, the fresh air will do you good."
She whistled lightly to wake the dozing Lenore. The raven cawed and fluffed her feathers, then cocked her head questioningly in Grimr's direction with a low cluck.
"Up for some flying?" he asked the raven. "I'm headed out if you want to keep an eye on me."
With his small stature, Grimr easily hopped up onto the window without disturbing the bird. He crouched there like a gargoyle, waiting for a response.
Lenore clicked again and bobbed her head, fluffing her wings out a bit before she spread them and lifted off from the window ledge.
"Be back before dark!" Lanaya called as they set off. The forest was her home, but it was certainly not without its dangers.
Flight didn't come quite as naturally in his current shape; his speed and maneuverability were noticeably diminished. Nor could he keep it up as long before tiring. But that didn't stop him from enjoying every moment of true freedom that it gifted him.
He returned later with a fresh spring in his step, hopping down from the window sill with youthful exuberance. Happily, he sighed. "I'm never going to not love that."
Lenore could easily outpace Grimr in his current form, but she often circled above him or would fly ahead and then double back to glide alongside him for a time—not unlike how an adult corvid might keep pace with a still-learning fledgling.
She cawed briskly to alert Lanaya to their return just before Grimr landed, and the witch looked up with a smile for them both.
"I'm glad," she chuckled lightly. Nodding to his cauldron, she added, "Things seem to be moving apace—you may want to scald it once before you test it though."
"Thanks," he said appreciatively as he clamored onto his work stool that had been fashioned from the trunk of a dying tree. "I'll do just that."
He threw some fuel on the fire to maintain the heat level before asking, "So what's for supper? Stew, again?"
"Is there something wrong with my stew?" Lanaya demanded, mock-offended. Then she smiled and answered properly, "I actually made flatbread this morning, and we still have some preserves left. I thought we'd have that."
Arching an eyebrow, she added more playfully, "Unless you'd miss the stew."
"No, no, that sounds like a great change of pace!" Grimr said quickly before he realized she was kidding.
He gave an awkward chuckle. "Your stew is great. But everything overstays its welcome eventually."
"It does at that," Lanaya chuckled. She began setting out plates for them, then said casually, "You know, a city would have a much wider variety of foods to choose from."
"Subtle," he said, his voice deadpan but with mischief in his eyes.
It hurt thinking that their time together was approaching its end so much faster than he had thought. Perhaps even faster than either of them had thought. He didn't know if his next teacher would earn his trust as easily as the strange witch of the woods, a woman more kind than anyone he had ever met short of the mother he barely remembered.
"You've too much sass for your own good, has anyone ever told you that?" Lanaya laughed as she placed his plate in front of him, then perched herself on the top of her storage trunk and began eating her own meal.
Truthfully, there was a large part of her that didn't really want Grimr to go; it was nice to have company that wasn't one of her birds--well, not quite--and in the time he'd been staying with her she'd learned that she actually quite enjoyed teaching. It felt like she had...a purpose, of sorts, for the first time in a long time.
But she knew that he couldn't stay in the forest, not indefinitely. And she...well. She couldn't leave it. She didn't even truly know why herself, she just knew that she couldn't.
"Repeatedly, and with great emphasis," he responded with pride before greedily biting off a piece of flatbread. Scraping the excess preserves off of his beak with a finger, he licked it from his talon with an appreciative noise.
"This is really good!"
She laughed again, giving him a fond look. "I'm glad you like it."
Finishing up with her own food, she stretched laboriously and gave a sharp exhale. "Now, do you think that potion might be ready for testing?"
Neither potions nor spells proved to be of much use over the next cycle of the moon. Lanaya continued teaching her newest flock member witchcraft--when he had the capability to perform it. Her initial "tweaking" of the curse's interlocked components was not a permanent solution, if it could be called any solution at all.
With each successive cycle of the moon, her adjustments to the spell required greater and greater upkeep, or Grimr reverted to his fully crow form. They were rapidly nearing the point where she would have to cast the spell once a week...and she was worried she simply didn't have the magical capacity to perform it more than that.
She frowned down at her grimoire, tapping her fingers anxiously on the branch where she was perched just outside the nest. There had to be something, some trick or loophole that she'd missed...
Grimr peeked out of the window. He was increasingly worried about the toll that keeping him humanoid was taking on her. Maybe he could just stay a bird for a while for her to recharge, but he didn't know if she would even let herself stop helping even if for just a little while.
"Dinner's ready. Besides, it looks like rain, so you should probably come back in anyway."
"Ack!" Lanaya started, nearly toppling sideways off the branch before she steadied herself and twisted to face her apprentice. One hand to her chest, she chuckled and shook her head. "Sorry—I didn't even realize how long I'd been out here."
She closed the grimoir and tucked it under her arm before climbing back inside, giving Grimr an approving nod.
"Dinner smells good."
The bird boy's expression brightened. He had only just started helping with the cooking and was happy for the compliment. Cooking wasn't that different from alchemy—mixing ingredients to create something more than the sum of its parts. And at least the cooking pot only explodes when you're really bad at it.
"Yeah! Those wild tomatoes we found really brought it together. I can't wait to taste the finished product."
Lanaya smiled fondly at him and reached over to lay a hand on his shoulder for a moment. "Me too. I'm sure it will be lovely."
She moved to tuck her grimoire away back in the small chest near her sleeping pad, then hesitated. She stared at the cover of the book, head tilted slightly to one side.
There was nothing in the tome that would help him. She knew that. She'd searched it cover to cover a dozen times now. She didn't know what to do.
And she didn't know how to tell him. In such a relatively short time, the boy had become a member of her flock--and a unique member at that, in more ways than one. Her birds often referred to her as "sister", but with Grimr... She'd never really thought of herself as particularly maternal, but she didn't know how else to qualify the protectiveness she felt for him.
The diminutive bird-boy went to work, serving up his culinary concoction with a bounce in his step. While he wasn't quite happy, given his situation, he was still closer to being optimistic than he had felt in a long time. He knew why she was poring over her grimoire over and over, and it was perfectly obvious she was out of ideas, but he believed she would do everything she could to find a way. The least he could do was act like he was as okay as he could be.
"Maybe you could ask the birds if they know anything? It's a long shot that they would be that observant of people, but what could it hurt?"
Lanaya jerked get attention away from her grimoire and to her apprentice. "I—"
She exhaled slowly. "I...have another friend. Another member of my flock, but he doesn't live here with the rest of us. I asked him about your...condition soon after you arrived. I'd hoped to have heard back from him about something, but..."
She sighed, her shoulders slumping a bit. "I'm...sorry, Grimr. I'm worried that—that I won't be able to help you. That it might be better if..."
She couldn't even say it. She didn't want to send him away—for either of their sakes.
Grimr looked away and was silent for, perhaps, a painfully long moment. Part of him knew that her valiant efforts would likely be in vain, but it wasn't real until she voiced it. He didn't want to stay as a bird forever, but he wanted even less to be abandoned again have to learn to trust someone with his life all over again.
Eventually, he turned his gaze up to her. "He could still come back. Right? Animals don't exactly have the best concept of time."
Lanaya was quiet a moment longer, than gave herself a little shake and smiled at him faintly. "Of course. Of course, you're right. Hero will be back. We can wait another week or so for him..."
They could deal with what happened next then. Grimr obviously didn't want to talk about it, and she didn't want to push the matter until she had to.
Grimr went back to serving his version of stew without voicing his own worries about the eagle's survival. He couldn't return if something ate him. Placing down the two steaming bowls, he took a deep breath. "Well, it smells good. Maybe that'll call him home... Even if eagles don't eat stew."
"Oh, he's had his share, in his time," Lanaya chuckled softly as she accepted her bowl. "He's the only member of the flock who leaves for such long periods, but when he comes home he likes to be pampered."
Gale hooted softly and she glanced up with a smile. "Yes, yes, I'm sure we'll have enough for you to have a taste."
Grimr let out one of his half-caw chuckles. "I made sure to make enough to go around; don't worry."
"I guess everyone likes to be pampered, at least a little," he admitted. Though, after a moment's thought, he wondered how true that actually was. It was true enough, he decided.
"How far do you think he goes?" he asked.
"Usually no further than the mountains," Lanaya replied thoughtfully. "He and his mate used to nest there, before she..."
She sighed quietly, then shook her head. Summoning up a small smile, she said quickly, "Well, that's a long flight, even given good weather. If he's gone further, it's not surprising he hasn't returned yet."
Grimr had never once considered that birds might have the capacity for grief. He was curious about what Lanaya had left unsaid but it was more than obvious that she didn't want to talk about it. His only guess was a bigger predator, be it a beast or a person.
"Which mountains? The Terrins aren't all that far, not for a bird."
"Yes, I believe that's what humans call them," Lanaya replied thoughtfully. "I can't say I've ever been that far myself."
She never left the woods, really. She got most of her news from traveling birds, who heard it in turn from other birds and creatures, and so on and so on--like an incredibly long version of a party game where players whispered a phrase to each person down a line one at a time.
"I never left Ketra until I got cursed, so what they're called and a rough idea of where they are are all I know." Grimr shrugged and tried some of his stew. Immediately, his eyes went wide and sparkly. "Oh my gods... so good..."
"Really! Try it!" he urged excitedly.
Chuckling, Lanaya obediently began sipping at her own bowl. "Very good," she agreed with another small laugh, nodding at him. "I do believe you've a talent for mixing concoctions of all kinds, apprentice."
Gale hooted softly, an owl's laugh--then suddenly fluffed up her feathers and made a chuffing, clucking sound that had Lanaya snapping her head up.
"What--really? You're sure?"
"Wooh-hhooo!"
Grimr, too, perked up, though he couldn't understand the owl remotely as well as his teacher. "What? What's she saying? Is it about Hero?"
Surely, if it was, it was good news. He could at least tell that much, and he was relieved, albeit perhaps prematurely. He had been more worried than he realized.