The Burden of Knowledge

JP with Omni and White_Caribou

Shalia chuckled softly and shook her head. “It will take much more than a campfire to melt me,” she positioned herself nearer now to the flames and Ba’hela, taking in the positive reception. A weight swiftly began to settle into her chest. Knowing she would be intimidated with the coming discussion, the woman folded her hands into her lap to avoid fiddling. No backing away from the truth, and no cowering from it now.

“I seek your wisdom about blood magik. I have many questions, if you will answer?”

Ba’hela studied Shalia for a moment, her eyes hinting at a life of uncertain and the burden of knowledge. “Wisdom is a funny thing,” she mused, the flames casting dancing shadows across her face. “It can enlighten or it can curse. Blood magic… it is ancient and complex… like the very veins that course through our bodies. I can share my knowledge, but be warned, the path of blood magik is perilous… full of truths that many find unsettling.”

She leaned back slightly, allowing the fire to illuminate the intricate lines of her tattoos, symbols of her deep connection to the craft she wielded. “Ask your questions, winter witch. I shall answer as best I can, for shared knowledge strengthens us both.”

The readiness in Ba’hela’s voice and the open, albeit guarded, look in her eyes indicated her willingness to guide Shalia through the maze of questions she harbored about blood magik.

Shalia's dark green eyes traced the other witch's markings while in immediate thought of the symbols dashed across her own chest and shoulders. Already a devotion to her magik and the goddess above, and yet, there was more to all this. So much more that lived only in the depths of her nightmares. The path to this point had already been a perilous one with so many losses that she failed to keep count, the successes narrowly outweighing everything. She survived all of that. How could there be more on the other side? Something else beyond the exhaustion, the panic, the agony of learning the basics on her own? Suffering--is that all magik was in the end?
Ba'hela had partly answered her first unspoken question: what is blood magik? An ancient and complex practice, running like veins...
Everything was in this land, deeper than she could fully understand the winding roots of in three lifetimes.

When their gaze met again, the expressions from the blood witch were clear enough to make the Voice of Winter hesitate. Her volume then became hushed as she decided what to ask first. "What can be done with it, that you know of?"

Ba’hela’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, reflecting the dance of the flames between them.

“My dear, the possibilities could likely fill pages and pages of tomes. I suppose blood magik is as limitless as wild magik itself…”

She paused to gather her thoughts. “It is an ancient art intimate and primal…" she began, her voice a low murmur blending with the crackle of the fire, "…one of binding and weaving… of manipulating life’s very essence.”

She went on to explain how blood magik differs from traditional magik, noting its requirement for rituals and sacrifices to unleash its potential.

"It is potent… allowing manipulation of vitality, summoning spirits, and even controlling others. It is a bridge… and an amplifier to magikal energies and entities.. it can offer insights across time and distance."

With a steady gaze, she warned, "But it demands a heavy toll… a balance of sacrifice. Its power hinges on the wielder's will and the price they're willing to pay."

Her words ran across Shalia’s mind repeatedly as she analyzed their meaning in silence. Amplifying. Limitless. Primal. Sacrifice. Hadn’t she sacrificed enough already? Paid tolls unimaginable to most? Was magik really that boundless..? It didn’t seem possible.

Ba’hela’s explanations were warnings–familiar ones telling her to watch her steps carefully. Shalia was raised on warnings like it, cautionary stories of rituals and wicked mages to frighten children into behaving, to keep adults in acceptable order. Grip tightly the reins of control on something they didn't understand and feared in turn of their ignorance. She heard similar phrasing before in a tale that never left her, though she hadn’t been told it directly in many years, only recently reading its prologue through the excerpts from Iker Pahadron and seeing it in terrorized vision back in Gra’akast.

As for that feverish illusion of her attacker, it was dismantled with time in her thoughts and reading of the new texts in her possession. She hadn’t seen monsters in this land the way she had years ago. Hopefully, he was now swallowed by the desert sands and lost like the entities in the Forsaken Lands, neither foe she would ever bear witness to again. Though, that man was another beast entirely, and something she still didn’t fully grasp. It rattled and stirred her beyond words. Where to begin with that explanation? When?

If she were only stronger, it would surely be no threat to her.

Then there was the nightmarish Torkaus. Dead and harmless from across the water, yet still so haunting as to imply to Helian witches young and old that a blood sorcerer like him was the worst monster they could become, and that they all just might if they didn't turn themselves over for a cleansing execution.
But she had planted two feet on his cursed earth once and withstood its harrowing, but truthfully fascinating aura. Shalia had poured over this fact often since acquiring the books, in particular the Arbiter’s journal and the Road to Salvation. That power which the long-gone king unleashed was rooted like an ancient tree into the world, and likely would never be vanquished. These days, as she chewed on the idea and upon reading about strange people who could strip her of all defenses in an instant, she wondered if elevating oneself through blood was all that horrific a concept. A legacy if done grand enough, preservation if mastered. Prolonged survival and strength for her and the Odonine. Ancient understanding of something so mysterious as these abilities even if one simply dabbled. Maybe it could all feel possible if she took the faithful leap.

Before the ice witch could consider any longer, she blurted aloud with firm words.

“Show me the ways of blood magik. In the time that we have, allow me to be your student.” Her eyes twinkled as she stared into Ba’hela’s. “I am ready.”

It took will and desperation to fight her way here and uncharted knowledge was now a whisper away. The opportunity to live a truth she was denied had presented itself tonight.

“I have spent my life trying to figure out who I am and what I could be, and sacrificed so much in the process, but still I yearn. Already I am more knowledgeable and for that I am indebted. With this, I can find strength enough to completely tear that city apart. So please,” Shalia paused for a breath,” travel with me to the winter pastures. Allow me to begin my journey. Let me learn to embrace it.”