[Mkguild] Blossom (4a/6)

[Rimme the Weasel]

Part 4a of Blossom

----

Lori arrived home to find her mom already up, mixing the sheep's milk from
yesterday into butter and cheese. She smiled when she saw the flower in
Lori's hand, and said nothing about her unexcused absence. She knew her
daughter well.

Today was the first day of the season that their farm's laborers came to
work. Marcus, as a male gender morph and close friend of Lori's, had been
assigned to them, alongside the usual crowd.

Division of labor was much like the old days, where farmers' children would
work alongside their parents, learning the chores and basics of running a
farm. Of course, sons were generally always shown how to work an axe or
steer a plow, in the hope that they remained male. Lori's family, at least,
accepted that their daughters would have a slight advantage over their sons
in physicality once the curse struck, and so, in the past year, Lori had
begun learning to drive a plow, and as eldest of the family, she was given
the task of directing the other laborers.

Knowing that Marcus would distract Lori from her work, her mother had
assigned Marcus with the group to mend the animal pens. By happy
coincidence, though, the group assigned to plow the field included Benjamin
-- a massive gorilla morph, only a few years older than Lori.

There were two others in the group as well: an ox morph who helped Benjamin
and the family oxen to pull the plow, and a child morph to help Lori clean
up the rocks and dirt clods left from the tilling. Animal morphs like
Benjamin and Tuvo were greatly desired for their strength, and were given
good pay as a result. Two strong animal morphs cost less to maintain than
two oxen. Poor child morphs like Nordin had to make do with menial jobs
like weaving or picking.

Lori, of course, had not let go of the rock all day, and carefully examined
it whenever she had the opportunity. Benjamin noticed the rock as well,
though he oddly refused to look at it when she pulled it out and asked him
about it.

"Tonight," he mumbled, just before he shifted to full morph for the yoke to
fit around him.

Benjamin's story was interesting to Lori, an example of how the curse
seemed to have a sense of humor. He had grown up a sickly scarecrow of a
boy, with a mouth smarter than a whip. He was a quick judge of character
and had a keen eye for when fences or tool handles were close to breaking,
and which loaves were least prone to rot. He was good at haggling, and had
a clever word for nearly every occasion. But at a young age, he had
delicate lungs, sneezing and coughed at the slightest breeze of pollen.
Instead of working the field, he would sit quietly at home, spinning the
linen for their clothes. His mother praised his diligence, but his father
knew and dreaded what was to come.

His son would be gender-morphed, he knew. He'd become a wheezing spinster
who could do naught but weave clothes and gossip. The boy grew mere inches
into his teens, as he handled finances and spun the wheel and carded yarn.
His father would watch him from across the field, seeing the curse of
Metamor turning his bones into milksop.

Two months short of his fourteenth birthday, Benjamin fell down with tight
spasms in his chest. Within seconds, his shoulders had tripled in size,
reducing his shirt to rags and overwhelming his tiny neck. It took a week
before the pains in his face, the last part to change, had faded away, and
turned a thin gaunt boy into a slightly-hunched over but very strong
gorilla morph.

And oh! how his father clapped and beamed with joy when he saw the bedframe
cracked and splintered by his son's weight! No longer would his son have to
lay about and spin. Even the boy's allergies, though still fierce in the
spring and autumn, were quashed by his ape-like stamina. The man happily
traded the family horse for three more acres of land. Now, as he would
mention frequently to his friends, all his son needed was a wife for
child-rearing, and what wife wouldn't want such a handsome specimen?

Benjamin's mind was never in the farm, though. His interests shifted from
market gossip to secret knowledge -- tales of magic, and foreign rituals.
Benjamin was good at breaking down the most superstitious stories and
teasing out fact from fiction. He got along well with Ophelia, who would
ask the storytellers questions on his behalf to get every last detail.
According to Ophelia, he had even cast his first spell, ridding a potato
crop of its blight.

His father shrugged off the news, saying, "Well, at least he won't be
marrying a Follower."

It was obvious, then, that there was magic of some kind in this rock, but
Lori had never practiced magic in her life, and had no idea what she was
looking for, or even what she would do when she found it out. By the time
they had tilled the second furrow, she had taken to examining every single
grain in the stone, hoping to find a vein or a connection between them.

As Nordin chucked away another pebble, his hands black with dirt, he
sneered, "We could clear away these rocks faster, ya know, if ya don't look
at them so much."

"This was a gift," Lori said to him.

After a moment Nordin said, "Ya think anything that gets thrown at ya is a
gift?"

"It came from a friend," Lori said, a bit less patiently.

"Ya got strange friends," Nordin said, shaking his head.

Benjamin would not help in the slightest. He would turn his head as much he
could, or close his eyes and shake his head, and grunt in exasperation.
This was something Lori would just have to solve herself.



----



"Any thoughts on a name, yet?"

It was mid-afternoon. While Benjamin and Tuvo continued to till the soil,
Lori and her pa and a couple other workers were feeding the livestock.
Another ewe had lambed twice without needing any help at all, making nine
lambs of the spring season.

Lori turned to look at Ginger and her two lambs. Pa had already named the
other one Bay. Though Bay had slightly redder wool on her head, she was not
named after any particular feature; it was an off-the-cuff name that was
easy to recycle between different lambs from season to season.

She remembered the one she pulled out had a slightly dimpled nose. Right
now, he was resting on top of some other lambs, his cousins, as Ginger
nibbled on some fresh hay. Lori wondered what sort of dreams the young ram
was having. Only one day in the world, and he already looked so peaceful.

"Yes, I know his name."

"Oh?" Pa leaned in, eyes sparkling. "What is it?"

"His name is Leif."

Pa nodded. "A good name."

They worked in silence a bit more. There was a big pile of branches from
the tree trimmings earlier that week, which Pa and Lori were slowly working
their way through. In the distance, Lori could hear Marcus calling for
picks. They must have driven the plow into a root, and needed to break it
apart to free the plow.

"Will he be a breeder?" Lori asked.

Pa shrugged. "It's up to you. You'll be the new shepherd soon." He stopped
to disentangle a clump of branches. "But in my opinion, we already have
three breeders in the herd. It's a good idea to castrate them while still
young, so they don't cause trouble as springers."

"I already know that," Lori said. "I wasn't thinking about castrating him.
It's just... will he live to see adulthood?"

"Why does that matter?" Pa looked at her, curiously.

"It's just... I want him to live, that's all. Ginger's lambs are special,
after all."

"They are not pets, Lori. But that doesn't mean you can't care for them.
Give him a good life, before he passes away."

"Pa, I don't --"

"Focus on the good you'll be doing him, Lori. Death is just business. He'll
be a happy wether until then."

"But --"

"You've seen them die before, Lori. Just because he's yours, doesn't make
him exceptional. You understand that, right?"

"... Yes, pa."

He flashed her a smile. Lori shrugged and shook the leaves out from her
sheafs. The lambs, hearing the noise, rushed over to gobble them up, eager
in their innocence to get bigger and fatter.

"Pa? How long have you wanted to be a shepherd?"

Pa gave her an odd look. "You sure are asking a lot of questions today."

Lori took a branch and started peeling the bark, tossing the pieces to the
sheep. "Sorry. My mind's a bit distracted today."

"Why's that?"

Lori thought it best not to tell him about the rock. "Just thinking about
Leif, what his place in the world is. Where my place in the world is. Where
any of us belong."

Pa gave a dry chuckle. "Where else is there to go?"

He walked further into the barn with his branches, the simple lambs
stumbling after him.



----



Evening came, and all of the workers received their pay for the day -- a
small bag of wheat and barley, a refilled waterskin of whisky, and one of
several animal products, which today was a goose egg and a pound of goose
down. At the end of the week, they'd also get a silver to spend for
themselves. It was usually enough for a worker to feed themselves and
either a wife or two children -- goose down was useful now, as it was about
time for many workers to change their bedding. This was in addition to the
pottage that they ate during lunch breaks. Lori's family was very generous
to their workers; nobody in Twone deserved to go hungry.

Of course, Lori and her family always ate supper after the workers had all
left. But Lori had to see what Benjamin and Ophelia were up to. She began
thinking of an excuse so that she could publicly walk Benjamin home.

"How is your dog Fella, Benjamin? Still barking at her shadow again?" she
asked, having tried unsuccessfully to talk about the blossom feast, or
about any home repairs he needed.

"She's made it through the winter," he said, having picked up on Lori's
hints. "She just had a litter of puppies a few months ago. Very smart pups,
too."

"How smart?" Lori's mom asked.

"They follow commands, they know their names. I noticed you don't have a
sheepdog of your own."

"Never needed one," Lori's mom said. "Our family's done without dogs for
generations. We can do anything they can."

"Well, this is a new generation," Lori said. "Maybe it's time for a new
tradition."

"Oh, Lori," her mom said.

"It doesn't hurt to have a fallback, does it? Let's say I become a snake
morph, or something. It would help to have a dog. In any case, Benjamin
would let us have one for free, wouldn't you?"

"Of course," Benjamin said. "After everything you've done, I'd be proud to
give back."

"Fair enough," Lori's mom nodded. "We can stop by tomorrow."

"Oh, but isn't Pa going out in a week with his flock? I was thinking, every
day counts when it's a new sheepdog. I want to go over and see the puppies,
see how smart they are in person. As the head shepherd, I have to do this
myself. That way, we can start teaching the new puppy right away."

Pa joined them, having picked up the conversation. "Alright, Lori.
Benjamin, you walk her straight there, take as much time as you need."

"I was actually thinking," Benjamin added, "it might be an overnight stay,
to see the puppies at rest. A good shepherdess would know how a good
sheepdog sleeps at night."

Lori blinked, but did her best to hide her confusion. Pa and Mom hesitated.
"It just seems so sudden," Lori's mom muttered.

"I should go with," Lori's pa decided.

"Please, mom, pa," Lori stepped forward. "I don't need to be constantly
watched over. Not when I have a baby sister who needs it most. I trust
Benjamin and his family. And I've never been to Benjamin's house before. I
would be honored to be his guest tonight."

Lori's pa nodded. "Very well, but I expect both of you back and ready at
the usual time tomorrow. Early."

"Thank you, pa," Lori hugged him.

Benjamin's house was on the northwest side of Twone, while Lori's house was
to the east. The two of them went into Twone, but instead of taking the
west path to the west houses, they went north, walking alongside the main
road towards Sawtry. Lori smiled politely to the villagers they passed,
noting that most of the blossom guests had gone home. She thought back to
Gilly's parents. She wondered if they knew what time their children were
coming home, and if they'd tried one last tryst before their children
returned home. She rubbed the rock as she did, hoping they would reach some
privacy soon.

Once they were down the road, out of earshot of anyone and far from any
buildings, Lori turned to Benjamin. "So what is all of this about? The
stone, and the overnight stay?"

"Shh, not so loud," Benjamin whispered. "Sound travels farther at night.
We'll talk in the woods."

Lori scowled but stayed silent. The road was lined with weeds and shrubs,
and occasional copses of trees where the brook ran. It was a moonless
night, and the stars were barely enough to see the path. As soon as Twone
was out of sight, Benjamin crouched down and turned left, wading through
the grass, carefully leading her over the burrow holes hidden in the ground.

By the time they reached the first shrubs surrounding the woods, it was
getting physically painful not to ask questions. To say nothing of her
knees. She stood up to brush herself off, and suddenly another person was
stepping out of the woods. He was a boy slightly older than herself, one
she barely hung out with, but a boy she had seen many times, who she
recognized instantly.

"Any problems leaving?" Tom, the hunter's son, said. He was dressed for
night-hunting, dagger in his gloved hands.

"None. Her folks think she's at my place. My folks think I'm in Ticehurst.
They won't expect us back till tomorrow," Benjamin said.

Lori looked between the two. There wasn't any real reason for the two to
meet up like this, and bring her along. Unless... "Is Nancy here?"

Tom nodded. "She's further in, watching the circle. It's in the clearing,
I'll show you. Did she tell you about the ceremony?"

"What ceremony?" Lori looked to Benjamin. "What are you all up to?"

Tom's face fell, and with a shake of his head he waved them in. Benjamin
kept holding Lori's hand, looking back as they followed Tom into the
forest. There was a trail leading into the woods, along a deer path past a
group of stacked rocks to a small stream, but they didn't take it this
time. It seemed that Tom was leading them on a shortcut. He knew the woods
well, and he led them carefully around the shrubs and past the exposed
roots and rocks, avoiding the ivy and nettles and thorns around them.

"You have the stone with you?" Benjamin asked. "Give it to Nancy when we
get there. It's a critical component."

"For what? What is this ceremony?"

Benjamin was silent for a moment, apparently searching for the right words.
Tom spoke up for him. "You know the rumor Nancy and I spread that we were
courting, hiding away in the woods? The truth is, we were out practicing a
ceremony that Benjamin came up with."

"What is --"

"A chance to control the curse," Benjamin said.

Lori suddenly stopped. "No one can control the curse. It is unpredictable.
It is unalterable." Benjamin, being a 300-pound gorilla, did not stop, but
he did notice the tug on his arm, and slowed himself down so she didn't
fall over.

"Ah, but that is the thing," Benjamin said with growing enthusiasm. "A
single curse is unpredictable, unalterable. But three curses? There's where
you can take control. Two curses can be prevented, if one curse triumphs."

"What?" Lori said in bafflement.

"You see, a lot of people have tried over the years to prevent the curse,
or withhold it. They forget, of course, that there is not one curse, but
three -- or perhaps even more, if you believe the 'animal curse' is
actually many different animal curses, vying with each other… It is
impossible, of course, to fight off all three curses. The trick, though, is
in choosing one specific curse, one you desire more than the others. If you
can strengthen that curse over all the others, then you can have your way.
Once you are cursed once, you can never be cursed again. So long as you
never tangle with the mechanics. But that requires far more sophisticated
techniques than what we'll need..."

At least the rumors that Benjamin practiced magic were true; Lori was glad
she got that right. Not that she was any less confused. "Wait, so we're
going to strengthen a curse on someone… who is already cursed? Or who isn't
cursed to begin with? What are you talking about?"

"Ah," Benjamin wiped his brow. "Nancy, you see, is uncursed. She has three
curses fluttering around her, neither of which has taken hold yet. So
that's what we'll be doing: strengthening one curse, so that it will take
hold, and block the other two."

"We're going to curse Nancy?" Lori said.

"She asked us to," Tom called back. They were well into the forest now, and
the sounds of owls carried farther than their voices would have. "That girl
of yours, Ophelia, I think, told her about some foreign magic ceremony, and
Benjamin here figured out the rest of the details."

"The Maldori, you see," Benjamin said, "believed strongly that magic was
not exclusive to mages. Everyone possesses some magic in them. They had
different ways of channeling this inner magic. Individually it may be weak,
but with an entire tribe gathered around, collectively willing their
efforts, they could power a magic spell, and grant their shaman powers far
beyond their individual ability. They were a feared people -- though sadly
ineffective on the battlefield."

"We have a Maldori shaman here?" Lori asked, still confused.

"No, no, no, see, the principle of Maldori magic is what is important. One
of their core beliefs, see, is that individual actions have power.
Willpower creates magic. You know that uneasy feeling you get when someone
is staring at you? That is that person's inner magic coming out, being
directed towards you. And it doesn't apply just to people. Staring hard at
an object, putting your thoughts into an object, even without a bit of
direction, will put some magic into it. In fact, a 'directionless' item can
be even more useful, for being a more versatile item, useful for many other
ceremonies."

Lori finally nodded. "So this rock…"

"...was an ordinary rock. Until you looked at it, and fretted over it, for
several hours," Benjamin said.

"Ophelia was carrying that rock around for months, though," Tom said with a
shrug, "so it's mostly her 'magic'. But as we were talking it over last
night, we decided you needed to put your touch on it too, for your role."

"My role?"

"It's not quite a Maldori ceremony," Benjamin explained. "That requires far
more people than we can allow, just yet. Maybe, if this works, this can be
done by the whole town. But now, it's just me, you, and Tom..."

"I'm not watching it," Tom said. "I'm watching the woods to make sure
nothing comes out here."

"Ah," Benjamin nodded. "Well, that's okay. You're the most important part,
Lori. You're the key to the ceremony. You're the person Nancy trusts most
for what is going to be a very vulnerable crossroads in her life. Her
support, her backup watcher."

"What does that mean? What do I do?"

Benjamin smiled. "You watch the ceremony." His smile dropped when he saw
Lori was still confused. "Well, maybe Nancy can explain it for you."

Lori nodded. "Will this be dangerous? Magic is always dangerous, I thought."

"It'll be fine. We're not handling the curses themselves. We're creating
favorable conditions for a curse to take her. Like setting bait for an
animal, rather than trying to tame it."

"And what if it escapes? I'm not cursed either. And -- and, well --
Benjamin, doesn't Nancy know that I never wanted the animal curse?"

"I don't see why it would affect you," Benjamin said. "Nancy wants it so
much more than you would. The curses are attracted to people's desires..."

"Are they, though? They're called curses for a reason. Not everyone gets
what they want. If it was so, then we wouldn't need this, would we? We'd
need no ceremonies, or support groups, or get-togethers, would we?" She
shuddered. "We shouldn't treat the curse as if we can control it, or
manipulate it. The curse listens to us, but it has its own desires, too. A
part of it will always listen to Nasoj, and the Daedra, and they are not on
our side. They want us to suffer. Don't they -- don't look at me like that,
it's true! Messing with the curse is just another way of bringing Nasoj
here!"

Benjamin listened patiently without comment, until she mentioned Nasoj and
the Daedra. His mood darkened, and he was about to interrupt, but let her
continue until a natural pause had set in. By that point, he'd controlled
himself somewhat, and in a slow, careful voice he said, "People have made
mistakes before, I know. Sometimes, they were evil. Or sometimes foolish.
But… they've given us something else, too. The failure to do good teaches
us how to be better." He paused. "If you don't want to go through with it,
well… you need to tell Nancy, first. I promised I would get you to see her.
She should have told you sooner, to begin with."

Indeed, she should have.

They kept walking further in, and suddenly Tom jumped ahead, towards the
lip of a hill that overlooked a lighter part of the woods. It was a natural
clearing, lit by the stars above. "We're here," Tom said out loud -- both
for their sake, she realized, and for the girl kneeling in the center of
the clearing.

It was a clearing of mud, slightly bowl shaped, a kind that would fill up
in rainstorms as a small pond. A circle had been drawn in the mud around a
large flat stone, with lines and symbols pointing inward. Lori knew nothing
about magic, but they were very complicated and intricate symbols, and Lori
was very impressed. There was a long thin log laid across the circle
between the center rock and another flat rock outside the circle. The
center stone was about seven feet wide, enough for two people to lay side
by side. There in the center knelt Nancy, a canvas bag in her lap, which
twitched and chittered loudly as they approached.

Nancy turned, smiled anxiously, and stood. She had a cloak wrapped around
her, but was barefoot, and her hair was unbraided and undone. As she
stepped upon the tree limb, the cloak briefly parted, which, together with
the way her unburdened hand clasped the collar, revealed what she wore
underneath.

Nothing.
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