Highwater and Glass

The Mourning Mist, Chapter 4 - Eloise

Eloise had never witnessed magic performed to the extent displayed by the Archmage and his apprentices. As a girl, she had watched the medicine women of Hedgemont evoke the spirit of the healing goddess, Larithneilla. However, that only manifested as smoke and fire, and the healing seemed to mostly occur due to the application of medicine.

There were fantastic stories of the Archmage she had overheard in Port Shorishal, but it was another thing to see it live. As she followed Sir Tristane and the Archmage through the swamp, her mind wandered with thoughts of magic and the power wielded by the three strange men. They had abandoned their mounts in town, the old path through the swamp too narrow and ill-kept for the horses to traverse. She strode between Oran and Horus. The two young men had only exchanged simple introductions with her and they each seemed pleasant enough. Well, Oran more so than Horus.

Eloise blamed herself for her awkward introduction. She found Horus to be distractingly attractive with his piercing eyes and mischievous grin. She couldn't quite find the words "thank you" when he complemented her hair before he cooly walked away.

Oran, by contrast, was warmer, offering a smile and a cordial handshake on their greeting. He slouched when he walked as if not yet accustomed to his height and gave way for her when the path narrowed.

The Archmage led the way as they traveled, his staff glowing like a star lighting the way. Curiously, any clawing branch or root that barred the path would bend as he approached before bending back to its original position after Oran safely passed.

"How does he do that?" she found herself asking aloud.

"If we knew, we'd be doing it too," said Horus dismissively.

"The Archmage said he entered into a covenant with nature many years ago," said Oran. "He hasn't completely told us what that means. But I wouldn't be surprised if nature's behavior at this moment is a result of this covenant."

Eloise nodded, grateful to receive an answer to her question. She was so used to being ignored or treated rudely, that Oran's response was refreshing.

"Are you, as an apprentice, going to enter a covenant with nature someday?"

Horus emitted a single laugh ahead of her. Oran chose to ignore it.

"If that is to be my path," said Oran. "The Archmage taught us we are each blessed with certain gifts and proficiencies. There's no set course for us to follow, we only aim to master the talents that become known to us."

"Can women be blessed with these gifts?"

"Well-"

"You don't have to answer her, boy-mage," interrupted Sir Tristane. "Eloise, if you would bless us with the gift of silence, t'would be much more squirely and far less annoying."

Eloise slumped her shoulders. She supposed good company was nice while it lasted.

"I took a young woman as an apprentice once," said the Archmage. "Before Horus and Oran. Miranna. She was from this very village. Miranna Green Marsh. There are those in our kingdom who would phrase this differently, but women are actually more likely to have the capacity to wield magic than men. Further, the magic they wield is often more powerful than a man can feasibly access. The Archmage that instructed me taught me much, it's true. But I would not be half the mage I am without lessons from the wyrd women and sorceresses who practice in secret across the land."

"Why is it secret?" asked Eloise.

It was hard to see in the dark, but Eloise knew Tristane had given her a stern look. Nevertheless, the Archmage seemed unbothered by her question.