feyland:Jehanparnasse Week 2017 - Day 1 - MagicAre you a good witch? Or a bad witch?Overhead, moonli

feyland:Jehanparnasse Week 2017 - Day 1 - MagicAre you a good witch? Or a bad witch?Overhead, moonlight dripped from naked branches. In the summer, even on nights like this one, where the full moon shone like a spotlight, the treetop canopy was thick enough to conceal it, and the restless heat of people held captive by the city sent up its own kind of fog until everything was blanketed with the residue of human contact. Now, away from the city lights, Montparnasse kept his chin raised high, drinking in the cool glow, pale as his own skin. Thousands of stars watched him closely, but Montparnasse had no fear of their retribution, instead turning up the swagger in his walk. He was, after all, performing for the universe.The path came to an abrupt end, a wall of gnarled, curling branches obscuring anything beyond, almost wild enough to look natural. Montparnasse smiled. Just as he had left it. He pressed his palm to the barrier, and the limbs of the trees began to move, sliding over each other like snakes, parting the way for him to move past. The soft rustle told him that the doorway had sealed itself again behind him, an action that suddenly seemed pointless as Montparnasse realized there was someone else in the clearing.They sat in the centre of the perfectly round patch of land, carefully laying out crystals in the short grass. The glow of the moon surrounded them, illuminating them bright as day. Were in not for the puff of their breath in the cool autumnal air, Montparnasse might have suspected they were a spirit, and left them to their devices. Instead, he took two steps towards them, purposefully letting leaves crunch underfoot to announce himself.“No one is supposed to be here,” he said. Perhaps he meant it as a challenge, an accusation, but the words came out of curiosity instead. “I have wards up.”“I think your wards might be disloyal,” replied the trespasser, not bothering to look up at Montparnasse as they continued to lay out their crystals in an intricate circular pattern. “I was looking for a place to charge my crystals. This place was so loud in its magic that it all but gave me the map.”Despite himself, Montparnasse felt a well of pride bubble up. Strong magic meant a strong caster, and he was pleased at the way the clearing had come along. Even if it did have the unfortunate side effect of attracting other witches. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to come back some other night when I don’t have pressing work to do,” he grumbled in a way that didn’t quite meet resolve.“And waste a full moon? You insult me, sir.” The stranger finally looked up at Montparnasse from their seat on the ground, wearing a small smile. Their eyes matched their voice, as alive and kaleidoscopic as cool water. Montparnasse was unsure if they were teasing him. They had managed to make their way into his secret grove with the ease of a current of air, and they showed no indication of chagrin at being found out. The elements of Montparnasse’s own planned ritual seemed to pulse with impatience inside his coat, and he unconsciously lay a hand on the place where the small bag held the finger bones he had collected. He didn’t want any judgement towards the shadier uses of his magic, especially in his own space. And yet.“You may as well make yourself comfortable,” the stranger said, turning their attention back to their work. “You wouldn’t want any disquiet seeping into your spells.”Slowly, Montparnasse knelt, drawing out the candles he had brought with him. As he struck a match, feeling the flame try to evade his grasp before settling into submission on the first wick, he glanced up again to see the other witch looking at him. It was the fire, he would tell himself later, that had warmed his face. He had no excuse, though, for the second candle that ignited itself in his hand. -- source link

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