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[There is a little patch of hardy roses. It is late enough in the summer that their blooms have started to go crispy at the edges of the petals. Matthias is sitting cross-legged on the ground beside them. He's made a neat stack of rose petals next to one knee. He is holding the empty stem, and shifts his hand so that he can push his left thumb against one of the thorns.

The cut beads with blood. Clinically, Matthias drops the stem back onto his knee and lifts his hand, studying the place the thorn had pierced. He blows on it, experimentally, and then he holds his right hand over his thumb, concentrating. There's a glow, a cool feeling in his thumb, and when he lifts his right hand away--the cut is gone.

Satisfied, he turns his thumb back and forth, examining it from each angle. Then he wipes the leftover blood on his shirtsleeve, picks up the stem, and pricks his finger again, methodical.]

[ Nell's not one for stealth, but with Matthias so engrossed and the garden's patch of lawn not yet dried to a crisp, it's easy for her casual wander to take her close enough to spot the blood, and the deliberate press of thorn to thumb. She frowns. Are there any good explanations for this? ]

What are you doing?

[Having Nell Voss walk up to him and ask him anything is enough to take Matthias' breath away. When he looks around at her, he is appropriately star-struck for a moment. Never mind that she has been nothing but helpful and generally kind (or ambivalent, but that's nearly the same thing, isn't it) to him. It is still Nell Voss. Possibly he will never be over that.

Once the awe clears a little, though, Matthias looks around again, and remembers that he is holding a rose stem, and a little bead of blood is dotted on his thumb, and--]

Oh. Er. Just-- practicing. Practicing healing, I mean.

Oh. [ She looks like that possibility hadn't occurred to her, because it didn't. ] Alright. You might want to do that inside. People might think you're practicing blood magic.

[Despite himself, and his, you know, general awe, Matthias snorts.]

What--with this?

[He holds up the rose stem.]

Bit lame for blood magic, innit. And I wouldn't besides.

It's Kirkwall [ Nell shrugs. ] But maybe the flower balances out the blood.

So you're thinking healing, now? I'll be no help with that, I'm afraid. How'd the spirit blade come along while I was away?

[That was a joke. Nell Voss made a joke at him. Pleased to have been included, Matthias' ears go pink, and he sits up a bit taller.]

Yeah, I dunno that I'll be any good at it either. I had a bit from the war and all. Figured it might be useful to see how I did with what I knew before and start from there.

[Nervous and eager, he picks up the rose stem again so he can twirl it between his fingers.]

I can show you. The spirit blade? If you like.

Can't hurt to try, [ she shrugs ] It'd be nice to be able to put myself back together occasionally instead of having to hope Isaac's around to stick my arms back on.

[ At his offer, she smiles quick, pleased. ]

Already? Yeah, come on. Let's see it.

[Pleased, too, Matthias chucks the stem aside immediately and gets to his feet. He wipes his hand on his shirt one last time, clearing it of any lingering blood.]

I dunno how good it'll be. But I have been working at it.

[Wait, though.]

You didn't really lose your arms, did you?

No, they can't really stick them back on if you do. I got a bit of a stern warning about that. Just got mangled a few times. Come on then,

[ she claps attached hands together ] let's see how it's coming.

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inkindled - 2020-09-03 04:04 (UTC) - Expand

[ She doesn't mean to find Matthias in the courtyard, but she does. It's a matter of happenstance, coming back from an afternoon of watching people at the market and occasionally intervening in alleyways. Sometimes, she does this: without the City Guard, without Riftwatch, waiting for cutpurses to try their luck and keeping them from success.

Because he seems intent on his roses, she doesn't join him, just watches his back from a distance and admires the slight movements he makes. Silently, she moves a little closer, angling herself so she can see something of what he's doing. He touches a thorn, lets it go, admires the blood that results. And then he does it again. That magic happens in between feels immaterial to her.

She keeps watching from the shadows, wondering what it feels like for him, to break open his skin over and over in the same place. Eventually, when she realizes she'll have to ask to know for sure, she comes a little closer. ]

People dislike it when you make yourself bleed.

[Laura is quiet when she approaches, besides quiet, naturally--and Matthias is focused--so when she speaks, he jumps, startled. The thorn sticks hard in his thumb and he hisses, shakes it out, even as he looks wildly around at Laura.]

What? No, I'm not-- I mean, I am, yeah, but it's only 'cause I'm practicing. Healing.

[And it's normal. He shoves the rose stem away from him, wipes his bleeding thumb on his shirt.]

S' all right.

Oh.

[She kneels down beside him, reaching for his hand so she can look at the little smear of blood on the pad of his thumb. Sometimes small injuries are more painful than larger ones--it looked like it hurt when it jabbed into him this latest time.

There's little she can do for him, so she lets go of his hand and looks up at him with sharp, expectant eyes.]

Will you show me?

[He gives her his hand willingly, but when she lets go and looks at him, he feels--well, a twinge, maybe, the origin and feeling of which he can't place.]

If you want, yeah.

[He picks up the rose stem again--hesitates, but then there's nothing wrong, this is practice--only it feels different to do it in front of someone--but then he pushes the thorn into his thumb, and the blood beads up again, the cut renewed. Quickly, he drops the stem and cups his other hand around his thumb, concentrating. There's the glow, and then he holds his hand out to her to examine. Where the cut had been, there is now a smooth place, free of flaws.]

[ Laura watches, silent. This is the closest she's ever been, she thinks, to magic. Reis kept her far from him when he could; Matthias' fire requires space. But this is something so small that it exists between Matthias' hands.

When he shows her his hand, she observes it without reaching out herself.

She feels...strange. Like something is living inside her, chewing on something inside her ribcage. She doesn't know what the name of this feeling is--she's not sure she's felt it before. ]

What else can you heal?

[ Whatever this sensation is, she doesn't think she likes it. ]

[Matthias curls his other fingers around his thumb, folds it away.]

Small things, mostly. For now. I've done bigger when I needed to--the war, and all--but I didn't like to, 'cause I was worried that I would cock it up. Make it worse, somehow. Others are better at it. And I want to get better. At all of it--not only healing, but all of it.

I've been looking for you.

[ Derrica's hand settles at his back, before her gaze drops to his hand, notes the smears of blood on his sleeve. ]

What's this?

[He looks around, briefly startled--but the second he realizes that it's only Derrica, Matthias' face softens out of that wariness into a smile.]

Practicing.

[He holds up his clean and healed thumb for her to see.]

Reckon Healing is a good place to start diversifying. 'Cause I only really know Fire. I was thinking of you.

[ Her expression softens, smile brightening a little before she examines his fingertip. ]

Perfect.

[ Because he deserves that praise, even if Derrica would rather not see him hurting himself to practice on. Her eyes scan over him, reassuring herself that nothing's lingered from the burns the abomination left behind. ]

You should come help us in the clinic, [ She offers. ] It'll be easier than having to prick your finger over and over.

[His smile goes all stupid and goony at her assessment, and Matthias ducks his head to hide the worst of it. He studies his thumb as well, critically searching it for any lingering marks, in case Derrica was just being nice to him.]

Yeah, I dunno. That seems like... a lot? 'Cause I'd have to--do things to people. Could be I do it wrong and make everything worse for 'em. Turn their bones inside out or something.

Isaac wouldn't ask you to heal someone's internal bleeding right off the bat.

[ Even without a very clear read on Isaac, Derrica expects him to approach teaching with some kind of logic.

But then, her own mishaps hadn't been so deadly. The spells had just fizzled in her hands, and the wounds had remained. It had been frustrating, but it hadn't created problems. It's hard to know if Matthias' spells would follow the same pattern. ]

You aren't going to start breaking your own bones when you want to move on, right?

[ It's phrased like a joke, with a little teasing knock of her elbow, but there is some real element of concern underlying the question. ]

Noooo.

[He grins at her, shoves back with his elbow. With cheerful confidence--]

'Cause I'd have to break 'em first and that hurts a whole bloody load more'n a thorn. I'll think of something by the time I get there. Or maybe I'll do as you say. The clinic. Is that how you learned? Working like that?

Yes. But I was lucky enough to have been accompanying some of the Enchanters to the clinic from the time I was small.

[ The healing spells were so ingrained in her mind by now. They had been part of her life for as long as she could remember, likely from the first moment the First Enchanter realized Derrica's affinity for it. ]

I'll be there with you. I won't let you make any mistakes.

[ An echo. Enchanter Agata's voice coming forward, making the same promise years ago. ]

It's for the best, [ Derrica promises. ] You'll have to heal another person sooner or later, and I can tell you it's easier when you've done it before.

That is lucky.

[And lucky, too, that he will have Derrica with him. If it comes to that. When. She's not wrong. He will have to heal someone else, it can't all be this. And if he cocks it up in the moment, when he's alone--that would be worse.

Matthias looks down at the stem.]

You never worry that you'll-- I dunno. Make it worse? Healing doesn't work that way, I s'ppose. It's--undoing something what was done. Repairing it. You can't repair something so it's worse. Only better.

[ Derrica's hand lifts to pick a bloom for herself. The urge to gloss over her own fears is present, and it takes a moment for her to decide against it.

She can't shield Matthias from everything. In a lot of ways, it would just be a waste to try. He's lived through as much awfulness as Derrica has without any reprieve. He is asking her with the same expectations she'd once had for her teachers. She owes him honesty. ]

I worry that I'm not strong enough, [ She says. ] Healing wouldn't go wrong for me the way lightening could. The spells would just...fizzle in my hands. It still happens sometimes, if I'm too tired, or if I've spent all my ability on other things.

[ Every mage spends their life learning, endlessly gaining new understanding of their capabilities. Derrica's grown stronger with time, but her strength isn't boundless, no matter how she wishes it was. ]

But you're right. You can't make anything worse. I think healers are more afraid of not being able to make it better.

[ She taps his shoulder with the flower. ]

Not that you should be worrying about that right now.

open

OPEN -- courtyard, tw: mild self-harm

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cw: self-harm all the way down

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