“We’re putting a stop to the prophecy.”
Jarl furrows his brows at the still irritated magician. They’re both on their seconds: him on his second cap and Manus on his second thermos. The heat of the coffee Sheryl gave them is still strong, making his fingers sting, and he idly notes that it’s only getting colder on them.
This makes sense, though, as it’s already nearing 2 AM.
“We’re saving Jasey???” he asks, confused and just a bit alarmed. They can’t be getting sidetracked, here!
“No; I mean that’s what we tell them—the trees.”
Áesta snorts, seeming amused at them, before sitting down with a half-frozen thermos. The icy slush sloshes around in the narrow container and, for a moment, Jarl thinks the daemon is going to drink the frigid mess.
It’s only when the tiny creature pulls the Axis Mundi from Manus’ personal bag that the priest understands: water is needed for the Mundi.
Hopefully, by some miracle, the lake sample warms before they have to put their hands in it.
~
“So… our deal is going to be taking down this prophesized… plague in order to get safe passage.”
“Essentially.” Manus pulls out three small vials of, by now, familiar looking liquid and downs one before handing the other two to Áesta and Jarl. “They would have only agreed to this… quarantining of their—literally—entertainment if it was for the cosmic good; so, if we appeal to that, they’ll stop hindering us.”
The daemon and priest both take their vials, one more reluctant than the other.
The stuff BURNS, ok?
~
“T’at’s assumin’ t’ey don’t realize yer bot’ lyin’.”
Jarl frowns over at Áesta, not liking any of the implications his statement is presenting. He HATES lying—mainly because he sucks at it; but also because it’s WRONG.
Not that Manus has that kind of problem.
“They won’t,” the magician assures, voice confident and calming. “Because we won’t BE lying.”
He places a slightly blue hand in the water of Yggdrasill (he must be freezing).
“There’s nothing Jarl and I won’t do for Jasey; nor you for me.”
~
“Veil be gone, Divide undone;
We are the world and us are one;
Through time and space: We nurture all;
From root to fruit: We go beyond the wall.”
~
The water from the loch hasn’t warmed in the slightest.
Jarl isn’t exactly sure what surprises him more about that: the fact that he had really believed it would have or the fact that the Oak’s hand still feels like gel. It yields almost warmly to his own when he squeezes it, testing his nerve endings rather pointlessly as he still doesn’t fully understand how things work here.
You are going there again.
The now familiar voice of Oak floods the priest’s ears, bringing with it the conflicting feelings of comfort and caution. It reminds Jarl of being scrutinized by Nannie, a nun from Scotland who was both his teacher and nanny (making her name quite the pun) before Jasey was even born. She knew when he was hiding things—especially if it was to protect Jasey—and never held it against him, making it harder to lie to her.
(And she KNEW that.)
“There’s nothing Jarl and I won’t do for Jasey;” Manus’ voice echoes loudly in the holy man’s mind, jolting him back to the present and reminding him why he’s here, in this directionless space full of blobs of shifting light, feeling the pressure of his invisible movement through the world tree, and the heavy weight of Oak’s stare: to lie.
He has to tell the trees he’s here to stop the prophecy so they’ll let him go to Jasey. He NEEDS to.
But he can’t. (Lying is a SIN.)
“… It is where my brother is.”
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