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Cashmere quieted beneath my gaze, steadying herself though seemingly on the verge of releasing more tears. Her words of explanation are simple enough—though understanding magic was much more difficult than many folk realized. Yar, they often wielded great and powerful talents, but knew of nothing more than the gain they’d received from those particular abilities. Never mind the privilege of understanding where such energy drew from, and why. Fina shifted along my spine, preening her feathers and listening with uncommon attentiveness.
I gently pushed a lock of hair from her cheek, bushing the tendril aside so that I might gaze upon those trusting eyes that were confiding in me. “Aye,” soft vocals began, “Magic, certainly of the crafting sort, is among the most wonderful and dangerous of talents.” She’d obviously never felt the tug of earth cawing for attention and the vision of something simple turning into a grand object of wondrous grace; she’d never heard the song of a thousand elements crying their legendary hymns to heaven. Weren’t we ourselves fashioned from the soil? Later, we’d return. It was only truth that even the stones scattering yon mountains would carry some traces of former life. Just as the ground rejoiced, so did the water and plants. “I craft, say true. Among other things.”
“Ye has a direct line with earth, thee has energy that stems from his grace,” I paused, “But none that stems from thee? From earth and thees own soul?” To explain something as delicate as this required me to understand what exactly Cashmere could do.
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[P] Wrap my spirit in reassurance [Midas] (closed)
![[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5388c9b80fe59)
