Chapter Text
No matter how many years she had passed roaming this world, no matter how many times she thought she had seen it all… It still sometimes managed to surprise her.
In a realm that wasn’t welcoming to her, she walked, basking in the warm sunlight filtering through the cover of trees, and it amazed her how much of it could descend through what she thought at first was dense, thick foliage. And yet, she had to cover her eyes from the midday sun as she glanced across the stream in front of her, searching for a way across.
Her journey was a long one, but she was unhurried. After all, she had all the time in the world, she couldn’t help but think bitterly.
Her host’s realm was truly something to behold, she couldn’t help but think. Everywhere she looked, the forest around her was full of life; thick, tall trees, greenery, animals, birds, down to the insects and fungal life.
A single glance in the wide stream was enough for her to confirm that it was full of fish and other aquatic life.
All of this, thanks to the powerful white mage that lived in these woods.
She had heard of her before, of course; no being as old as her went unnoticed. Thousands upon thousands of years walking this world, where magic had no place anymore. They were mystical beings, relegated to myths and folktales, sometimes even revered as gods. And as such, they had tremendous power, beyond anything anyone could guess.
And yet… Here she was, making her way through half the world to come here. She honestly could have settled anywhere else, but… This place was the only untouched part of the world. As of now, anyway.
Thinking bitterly that at some point she would need to travel into the ocean if she truly wanted to be left alone for the rest of her long life, her attention was caught by the sudden flutter of colorful birds nearby, just as she made her way to a clearing.
It was vast, and she instantly knew that there was some magic in play here. If she had been a mere mortal, she would have never guessed; could have spent a lifetime in this clearing without ever finding anything wrong with it. But for a being as old as her, the concealment magic used here was as plain as day, like a veil cast over this area.
Steeling her resolve and squaring her shoulders, she gathered some of her magic to the tips of her fingers as she raised a hand to the veil, before delicately touching it. She didn’t want to break the spell; she merely wanted to slip in.
Without a fuss, the veil opened for her, almost welcoming her like an old friend. It made her want to laugh. This white mage clearly was living a carefree life, to let just anybody walk in without any kind of precautions.
Then again, there weren’t many other mages, if there were any, some part of her argued. There was no need to be cautious when you’re one of the only remaining mages in the world.
She knew the clearing would look different once through the veil, but she was quietly surprised by how little it differed from outside, the only major difference was the bed of colorful flowers that throned in the middle of the clearing. And in the middle of it, bathing in the sunlight, the white mage that she had been looking for was laid there, seemingly resting.
Observing from a distance at the peaceful scene in front of her, she spotted the few animals there were around the mage, dozing off in the warm sunlight as well.
What a strange mage, she thought. Doesn’t she have a house, at least? A temple? We are revered as Gods, after all.
Taking a step forward alerted the few birds that were relaxing in the soft grass and flowerbed, near the sleeping mage, and the animals fled as well upon seeing her. She understood. As a black mage, she exuded a type of magic that prompted fear, seen as a God of Death in some area.
She knew if she looked back, that the life that had been brought up by magic would be wilted away now, faded to gray in her path.
As she made her way closer, she noticed that the mage had short, blonde hair, with fair, silky skin. Presently wearing a white robe that didn’t match the fashion of this time period, but it looked comfortable, with a rope-belt tightening it at the waist. She was barefoot, also.
Truly the embodiment of a Goddess of Life, she couldn’t help but huff as the mage in front of her exuded nothing but innocence and purity.
And yet, when the mage stirred from her slumber, probably sensing her dark presence, she was utterly surprised when their eyes locked.
How odd. A white mage, a Goddess of Life, to have eyes the color of spilled blood.
Lazily blinking once, twice, the white mage took the time to stretch with a groan before slowly sitting up, leaning back on her hands as the crimson eyes looked up at her curiously.
“A black mage, in my domain?” The other woman spoke, then, her words falling to her ears in a foreign tongue and yet, somehow, she could understand her. “May you be the Goddess of Death I heard so much about?”
“Sorry for the intrusion,” she responded, her tone remaining cordial. She did invade someone else’s home, after all. “You must be the White Mage. Or, as you say, the Goddess of Life.”
“Ah, it’s nice to be recognised for my roots!” The blonde-haired woman was enchanted as she climbed to her feet, resting her hands on her hips. “But I do wonder why someone like you would come to me uninvited.”
Despite the fact she expected her host to be wary of her, guarded, there was no trace of malice in her tone, no defensiveness around her. She was asking, and expected an honest answer.
How someone like her lived for as long as she did, it was a mystery to the black mage.
“I was driven out of my realm,” she answered honestly, as the other mage expected. There was no point denying it. “Seeing as your forests are still mostly inhabited by mortals, I figured I would introduce myself before calling it home, as well.”
A short chuckle sounded in the clearing, as the white mage stepped closer, the glint of amusement in her crimson eyes as they took her in, from head to toe.
“You? Driven out of your realm? How is that possible? I heard about the calamity you brought on mortals, before.”
“Please. I am not so ruthless that I bring calamity without reason.”
“Keeping your home wasn’t reason enough?”
“The mortals are expending their cities,” she explained, calmly. “I was just in the way, so I moved. After surveying the world carefully, I have judged that anywhere else I settle would need me to move again in a few decades. Here is the only place where we’re safe… For a couple centuries, at least.”
“Hm…” The white mage crossed her arms over her chest thoughtfully. “You might be right. This forest is revered as sacred, after all.”
“And yet, my domain was said to be cursed, and they didn’t hesitate.”
“The difference between fear and devotion!” The white mage laughed as she brushed past her. “Come along, black mage. Let’s look for a place suited for you.”
Looking at the other mage just happily skipping away towards a sinuous trail that mysteriously appeared between trees, she sighed, wondering what that white mage was thinking. She was awfully naïve to trust her as easily as this.
She had her fair share of betrayal, before.
“I don’t need company, I merely wanted to let you know,” she let out to her companion’s retreating back, but still started in the same direction, following at a slower pace. “There is no need to show me around.”
“Nonsense! You’re my guest, I have to!” The other mage smiled, blinding, over her shoulder. “Besides,” she continued as she stopped, turning towards her as she slowly made her way closer. “It’s been a while since I had company. Don’t you feel lonely?”
“No.”
“I don’t believe you!” Her host laughed as she walked away, up the trail.
Quietly sighing to herself again, the black mage wondered how their cohabitation was going to be like. She figured that even as neighbours, the white mage was probably going to be in her space more often than not.
Blinking tiredly at the sight in front of her, the black mage spared a thought about her instincts never failing her.
I hate it when I’m right.
“So? Don’t you want some?”
Her eyes darted down at the bowl full of stew that, she had to admit, smelled heavenly in the white mage’s hand that she was presently offering. She had been reading one of her grimoires, trying to remember an old spell that might come in handy in the future, when there was a knock at the door.
She had claimed her home in the roots of a giant tree, preferring someplace dark and hard to reach. And yet, it never deterred her host.
“You know we don’t have to eat, right?” She finally let out, looking up at the crimson eyes of the white mage.
“I know, but it’s so good!” The mage cheered, pushing the bowl closer to her. “And I made too much, anyway. It’s always better when you share!”
“Is it really?”
“Yes! So please, enjoy!”
As much as she wanted to decline (she really didn’t need any kind of sustenance, anyway), the way the crimson eyes were locked with hers, full of joy and hope… She found it hard to actually decline. And, she didn’t want to be rude, too. This was, after all, still part of the white mage’s domain.
“Fine…”
“Huzzah! I brought some with me, so we can enjoy it together!”
“That’s unnecessary, I can-”
“Oh, you really made yourself at home in here!” The other mage noted as she easily slipped inside, as swift and nimble as a snake. “But it’s so dark…”
“I have all the lighting that I need,” she quietly retorted as she closed the door, deciding against chastising her host about her overbearing familiarity. The blonde mage already said she felt lonely, before. “See?”
Near them, on a small table tucked in a corner, small flames lit up on the handful on candles that was stuck there, all a varying length, but it sent a warm glow in the room that complemented nicely the faint sunlight that filtered through the rare windows. Without a single ounce of hesitation, the white mage went to the table, depositing the bowl she had offered, and producing another from seemingly nowhere.
“Let’s eat!”
Staring her with wide, hopeful eyes that she had no choice but to avoid after a while, the black mage quietly sighed to herself as she made her way closer, but obediently took place at the table along with her host. The blonde, after sending a wide grin to her, dug in with gusto, making delighted noises with each bite.
Showing much more restraint, she inspected the stew, first, remembering vaguely the last time she ate a meal, back when she was still mortal. When she had been granted immortality, there was just no point in it, anymore. She only ever thought of cooking and feeding herself as a waste of time, anyway.
Still, she followed her companion’s lead, and after long deliberation took a bite, chewing slowly.
It was still warm. The vegetables and meat was tender, and the stew itself was thick, savory, rich with herbs and the aroma. It settled in the pit of her stomach easily, warming her up, and she was suddenly hit with nostalgia, a wave of déjà vu, of a time when having a meal like this was her reward for a hard day spent outside in the middle of winter.
It seemed to rise something from within her, something she hadn’t felt in a long time, as she was openly staring at the bowl in front of her with wide eyes, her vision blurry, suddenly.
“It’s good,” she could only whisper, unable to do otherwise.
“Isn’t it?” The mage instantly perked up. “Told you it would be better if shared!”
“Thank you.”
The white mage only hummed happily as she brought another spoonful to her mouth, and she only stared for a bit, dumbfounded. Did she put a spell on the stew somehow? To trick her, in some way? But for what purpose? No. No, this was her genuine reaction, then.
Sitting down, sharing a good, warm meal… How many centuries has it been since she last did?
Time came and went for her, now, washing over her without her notice. She always thought it must have been the same for the other long-lived mages that she heard about throughout her life.
And yet, here was the biggest mystery of all. This white mage, who was much older than her, and yet, she was still enjoying cooking and eating and sleeping.
What a curious being.
For the first time in a long, long while, the place she called a home didn’t feel as empty and cold, as soon after her host started chatting happily while they ate.
“Huh?” She blinked dumbly as the white mage was bowing in front of her, her hands pressed together in a form of begging. “You need help with your garden?”
“I planted too many vegetables and I’m not going to be able to harvest them in time on my own before they start rotting…”
“Can’t you just use magic to help you harvest?”
“Absolutely not! And even less your own! It will sink in the soil and taint future harvests!”
“That’s a little harsh…”
“I will reward you for your help!” The white mage offered in a pressed tone. “Whatever you want! Within reason, of course.”
What does that mean? She couldn’t help but wonder.
“Do you have any grimoires or spell tomes?”
“One could be yours if you help!”
“Done.”
“Oh, you’re a lifesaver!” Her host sighed deeply, straightening her back with relief plain in her face. “But no more time to waste. Follow me!”
They set out on the small dirt path that the white mage created over time after her many visits, and it was when they were back in the clearing that she realised she never went to the mage’s house. Surely some months had come and gone now, and she never once thought to return her host’s kindness in some way.
Well, perhaps that would change in the future, then.
They took a path from the clearing, one that appeared into view only in a certain angle, and the mage explained that it was another kind of concealment spell. You had to look for it, for it to show in the right angle. So, if you were simply trying to find the house, you would never find it, as you would never get on the path leading to it.
Very clever, she had to say.
Finally, they arrived in front of the mage’s home, and she had to say… She didn’t quite know what she was expecting, but it certainly was not this small hut, stuck between a cliff and a giant tree. It looked like the walls were made with some kind of clay, and a clever mix of branches and foliage constituted as the roof.
“It’s much bigger inside,” the mage reassured, mistaking her look of utter disbelief for that.
She could have conjured any kind of housing, and she chose this?
She truly didn’t understand her.
The garden was immense; the black mage now understood the need for help. Still, she was a little apprehensive of it. After all, physical labor wasn’t something she did, anymore.
For the reminder of the day, they both spent it in the garden, basket in hand, harvesting as much as they could before they needed to empty the baskets, and it was only when the sun was low behind the trees, casting long shadows over them, that the white mage called it for the day.
“You really overdid it,” she was lightly chastising the white mage as they were sitting on the edge of the nearby lake, admiring the sunset. “Why did you plant so much? You live on your own.”
A chuckle sounded from the mage beside her, but when she glanced over, her expression was… somber. Sad, and bitter.
“I used to leave the excess near this village, at the foot of the mountain,” the blonde started quietly, her crimson eyes taking in the view with a slow, lazy blink. “For centuries, that village has stayed there. I know the winters are harsh there, and I had too much anyway. They were always grateful for it.”
“Did something happen to them?” She asked after a beat, knowing this feeling too well.
Silence hung over them for a moment, as they kept their eyes to the setting sun quickly disappearing behind the treeline, the mountain flank now creating vast shadows across the forest.
“I wish you had been here, back then,” the mage finally let out, her eyes darting down. “Maybe we would have been able to help them.”
“Why would me being here help?”
“You are the Goddess of Death, a black mage. You can sense pain and suffering, no?” The mage glanced up at her, long enough for her to nod in confirmation. “Some terrible sickness managed to reach this isolated village. Without me knowing and so close to my domain… They all died.”
“Oh.”
“And now, I have no one to give my excess harvest.”
Again, the silence settling between them was heavy, as she realised that for the first time since she met the mage, she actually looked serious. Somber, and sad, even with a hint of guilt and regret dancing in her crimson eyes.
It was such a rare sight that it left her thoughtful, even a little concerned, despite the fact that she was well-acquainted with this kind of situation.
She was the Goddess of Death. She could sense pain and suffering. Many times in the past she felt a loved one, friends, acquaintances die from a distance; despite all of her power, her magic wasn’t made to heal, to restore.
It was made to kill, to destroy.
“I could fly around the mountain tomorrow,” she suddenly proposed, tired of this terrible silence. “See if there are settlements or villages where we could give the excess harvest.”
The mage turned to her slowly, as if pulled out from her morose thoughts, and stared at her, her crimson eyes wide, obviously surprised.
“You would do that?”
“This is obviously important to you. I simply want to return the favor, for letting me stay in your forest.”
A silent huff escaped her host’s lips as a small, enigmatic smile pulled them, the mage’s eyes darting away after a second more locked with hers.
“You are kinder than you seem, black mage.”
“I’m not. It’s only transactional.”
“Whatever you say.”