faderift | [Open] But finally one day roses fade away

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[Open] But finally one day roses fade away

WHO: The Medicine Man and You!
WHAT: A catch-all for March/Drakonis
WHEN: Drakonis
WHERE: Skyhold and beyond!
NOTES: Will add as necessary

Old Aching Bones - The Baths

The hotsprings had been a pleasant surprise - a little reminiscent of home, for whatever measure one could consider the winding road (or the overgrown wooded path when one took a wrong turn) home. It had struck him that Skyhold had, in a way, become the closest thing he ever had to a place to belong - at least with regards to the duration he spent in one general area.

As he set aside his clothes and pinned up his hair, it dawned that he may have to rethink how he was going to adapt to this strange new world and how that meant changing his methods. Sinking into the water, he stretched and flexed his hand where the Rift Shard had lodged itself. It was what tethered him to this Inquisition and all the trappings thereof which limited his options. He couldn't stray too far from other shard-bearers unless he had a nice stash of opium to keep the pain in check.

That made things... tricky.

He leaned back, letting the hot water drain the tension from his muscles and bones. It occurred that one possible solution might be actually working with others.

Which meant giving other people some modicum of trust.

His nose wrinkled at the very thought. How dreadful. Nothing good ever came of that.

Raw Materials - Outside Skyhold

The Medicine Seller was testing just how far he could go before the pain in his hand grew unbearable. The shard, it seemed, kept him on a relatively short leash, but he could at least get out from the stone walls of Skyhold and enjoy the clean mountain air.

There was another purpose to his wandering aside from just it being relatively nice out. The warm winds carried the promise of spring and a few brave, early blooms were making an appearance in the valley below. It was time to see the natural habitat of some of the new herbs he'd be working with in the days to come.

Elfroot seemed capable of growing in just about every condition imaginable. He'd stocked up already on that just by wandering along the perimeter of the market place. He couldn't go a few paces without a few shoots of it peeking up.

On these little outings, he could sometimes be found following a mountain creek to a clear pond, traversing its muddy shore, picking blood lotus and spindelweed. Other times, he could be found sprawled out comfortably in the boughs of a dogwood tree that sported a few early blossoms - perhaps he'd be enjoying a smoke from his pipe or just the simple fragrance from the tree.

A Strange Stranger - Skyhold

The Medicine Seller was like a very large house cat in both habit and demeanor. He was simultaneously curious and aloof, and had a tendency of vanishing for long amounts of time, only to turn up when he wanted to buy a warm meal.

He moved quietly, his wanderings around the fortress seemingly aimless. Sometimes he would stop dead in his tracks and stare unblinkingly at a crack in the wall or at a corner of a ceiling. Occasionally he'd pause to watch the training in the courtyard, or eavesdrop on gossiping servants to entertain himself.

Sometimes he wouldn't stare at or listen to anything in particular, but instead mutter wordlessly to the strange jeweled blade he sometimes kept tucked in that ludicrous sash.

He didn't seem to have any regular sleep cycle, but then that was centuries of traveling that had left him with that particular issue. Rather, he tended to catnap for a few hourse wherever a warm fire and relative absence of hustle and bustle presented itself.

And sometimes he'd be sitting comfortably, legs dangling off the side of the battlements as he gazed out over the Frostbacks. Despite his mask-like expression, there was a sense of melancholy as he took a long breath from his pipe.

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There was a sense of relief from the Medicine Seller now that his personal problems were no longer under scrutiny. He was loathe to reveal much of himself, let alone any troubles that may plague him.

Besides, Cole already saw the worst of people. He seemed a nice young man and he certainly didn't need a double dose of that filtered through the Medicine Seller's own cynical view.

"Yes. They are for relaxing, socializing, thinking - the uses people find for them are multifarious indeed."

Sometimes he saw flickers, of other people's hurts and pains that had to be dealt with.

He shifts to stretch out on his stomach along the warm stone, cheek pillowed on his arm and the other hand reaching to just touch the water again, hat hiding his face.

"I shouldn't be here. I should be outside helping."

That was not the look of someone bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and ready to get back to work. That looked like someone about to fall asleep on the side of a hotspring.

Did spirits here even sleep?

The thought got a bit of a chuckle out of him. He didn't have a particularly nice laugh - it was soft and cold like bitter, mid-winter snow. But it was, at least, genuine.

"I won't stop you," he said, "but it's not remiss to have a moment to yourself if you wish to relax."

People's troubles weren't flying off anywhere, after all.

"No, we don't. I'm not going to sleep, just feeling it being warm in me."

The thought had been loud and clear and echoed to him. And the laugh was warming too, because he hears the emotions.

"If I don't help them- Who am I?"

Well it seemed Cole had found his equivalent to taking a long soak. Everyone had their own ways of doing things, after all, and the Medicine Seller wasn't one to judge.

"That feeling of warmth is why many enjoy this."

It was, after all, pleasant to simply exist in a moment of peace.

Cole's question, however, brought forth unbidden memories of Ochou. She had built her entire identity around the wants and needs of others, until she had lost all sense of self. Her death had come piece by agonizing piece and brought forth a faceless entity.

Would the same happen to Cole? He was a spirit of Compassion, and spirits in this world seemed to be uniquely single-minded. But he had also taken a physical form and lived in the physical world. That left things a bit more complicated.

Who am I was never an easy question, not for mortals or spirits.

"...Who do you think you are?"

The name echoed briefly in him, endless sacrifice to make a single person happy. He didn't think that was what he was like. Maybe he was wrong. He would have done anything for Rhys. But it had helped him find himself, not lose that.

He wasn't a person. He wasn't just a spirit, either.

"I don't know. If I thought I knew who I was, I would know who I was." For a spirit like him, thought was action was being.

"A person is the sum of their words, choices, actions and perceptions," he explained, eyes drifting shut as he folded his hands over his stomach.

"...And also how they are perceived by others."

It always came back to Form, Truth and Regret for him. The states of the body, mind and soul.

"What do you think when you consider yourself?"

"And memories."

Cole remembers being Cole. And yes, how those memories shape him.

"I... don't?"

"...And memories," he agreed.

Cole's other answer was... perplexing. Perhaps he misunderstood, or had been misunderstood - it was possible. It was hard to imagine someone not having any thoughts about themself whatsoever - and Cole was clearly self-aware and capable of emotions.

He made to get up out of the water and as that cool air hit him, he promptly thought better of it, noped right back into the spring, and submerged himself up to his chin. He'd get the mirror later, if he really had to.

"You truly do not think anything at all about yourself?" He asked.

"Not... really. Sometimes-" He looked a bit guilty. "Sometimes I do. But people need me, so I put it aside. Sometimes, when it's cold and wet, I don't want to go out into it, but I need to. I'm needed and I have somewhere dry to come back to. I don't think I can get sick. I don't need sleep. I don't eat. I feel hot and cold, but I don't really sweat."

He had no real needs, but others did.

He hadn't missed Cole's look of guilt. And what an peculiar thing to feel guilty over.

"I will tell you a secret," he said, almost conspiratorially. "I do not much care for such dismal weather either. Many times I have found it an excuse to sleep in."

What a slacker.

He partially emerged from the water, enough to once again relax with his back to the edge of the pool, rather than sitting stiff and quietly sullen that cold air had the sheer audacity to exist.

"It may not be a terrible thing to think about things you want."

"I don't sleep." He wasn't even sure he could, truthfully. He'd never felt a need to try. "I don't mind wet, or cold, but together makes my insides feel like Despair."

Despair demons used frost and ice magic, when provoked into causing active harm.

"Together they are like despair, hmm?" he repeated, just a bit amused. "In that case, I shall give you something good."

He considered for a moment, and then glanced around. He shouldn't, but there was no one else around and he didn't feel like getting out of the water. He doubted Cole would be bothered, at least.

The Medicine Seller shifted so he was facing his medicine box, and gestured. The bottom drawer opened, and something flew out into his outstretched palm.

He offered the small cone of incense to Cole.

"I have been told this kind smells of warm spring mornings," he explained. "Perhaps it will help keep the gloom at bay."

Cole reached and took the cone, looking completely unsurprised by the display of power that summoning it was. He was far more interested in the cone itself.

He held it up and sniffed hard.

Then sneezed.

You almost got it there, Cole. Not quite what you're supposed to do, but you're in the neighborhood.

"You light it," he explained patiently.

"I don't understand," he stated. "Do you mean set it on fire?"

"Not quite. Hold a flame near until it begins to smoke," he explained. "Too much fire and it will just burn up quickly and not give off much scent."

"Oh." He scents it softly again. He will probably never burn it; the warmth of the empathy it was given with is better than any scent could be. "Thank you."

There was a brief moment where his expression didn't seem quite so cold and mask-like.

"When it runs out, I will make you more."

Incense was a hobby of his, insofar as much as someone like the Medicine Seller could have a hobby. And as anyone who liked something, it was nice to share with others once in a while.

Cole nods slightly, but he's still looking at the incense, rolling it in his fingers carefully and then lifting his fingers to scent the incense on them.

"She pleased everyone else because she was never pleased with herself. It's warm."

He knew who Cole was talking about almost as soon as the words left his mouth.

A thousand different faces for the world and none of them hers. She had 'killed' herself so many times, there was nothing left underneath. Yet still she thought the masked man had saved her.

Perhaps it fell in love.

"She was able to leave," he said. He wasn't sure where to - perhaps Ochou had died that day or perhaps not. Either way, she had been able to move on.

"The base of that incense is golden copal resin. It is not often I get to work with such quality imports."

"Yes. She was able to let go and leave."

Cole nods slowly at the words. They mean nothing to him, but he files them away, golden copal resin, it's something that the Medicine Seller would appreciate if Cole comes across it.

"It was satisfying to make, to shape and know it would burn true."

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[Open] But finally one day roses fade away

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