The Enchantress Within [Tell me if you want to join ;D]

[Jules]

The rusty metal pot was placed atop a laboratory tripod, underneath it lay an alcohol burner. You'd think one was conducting an experiment, perhaps creating potions or playing with ingredients. But nothing is ordinary in this small hut, nothing at all.

The alchemist sat comfortably on a wooden chair, her back hunched, legs stretched across a small stool parallel to the front of her chair. Life was slow in the forest, no threats of sieges or having to forcibly create gold for the royal family. It was indeed a charmed life with no boundaries whatsoever. Where women weren't ridiculed of or labeled stupid. Solitary living was perfect for an alchemist.

Heaving a deep sigh, she swung her legs down to the floor then stood up to check the tea boiling within the pot. She had found the tea leaves on the forest floor earlier that week, probably dropped by some rich vagabond who took life for granted. People like that annoyed the alchemist the most, they failed to see the beauty and balance of life. But then again, how could they see balance in a world that was extremely unbalanced? How could they see beauty in a world of destruction and hate? It were these kinds of questions that played across her mind every now and then, simple questions turned into rhetorical ones.

Her tea would probably be ready in another 15 minutes. Alcohol burners were slow to heat. Shaking her head, the alchemist yanked a human map from the wooden surface of the table. It was the map she used to find her way to the forest a few years back, a map that was not complete and pretty much inaccurate. Only she knew the forest down to its very fibers, only she knew its flow of energy and its pace of regeneration. Just like her father before her, she spent most of her time researching nature and matter's strange ways.

For humans, it was a worthless achievement to know the forest unless you made a perfect map of all its twists and turns. Typical humans. They fail to see all that is important, the order of things... and yet, the alchemist bore no resentment to man. She was man herself but blessed with the power of controlling her aura and performing alchemy. She had no resentment but found them amusing.

Humans declare war for the most worthless reasons. They liked to believe in things that weren't real because they were afraid to experience the consequences of knowledge. For example, the alchemist was seen by a hunter once. She was trying to make balls of electricity out of her aura. Instead of approaching her, the man ran away while yelling 'There's an Enchantress! An Enchantress!'. Since then, hunters were afraid to go deep into the woods; in fear that they could cross paths with the so called Enchantress.

The alchemist snorted as she recalled that memory, she wasn't an Enchantress. Her name was Alisse Sirene De Vaux, an alchemist in search for the purpose of life. Alisse just inherited her mother's looks to her dismay.

The tea pot screamed its refusal to undergo any more heat. Quickly, Alisse pulled the alcohol burner away, put its metal cap back on then left the pot to cool. Ah, the power of improvisation.

[Music]

~OOH, may I join?~

[Crispy Bacon]

Lips pressed firmly together as he brushed a bug from his pant leg calmly and continued searching for the pouches of tea leaves and numerous other things the silly, inexperienced servant - who had been ordered to fetch bundles of odds and ends so the nobles could judge his skill and potential - had dropped. Of course, Alfred had been the one to fix the mistakes that the servant, his name was something like William, had made. Alfred was always the one to set things straight, the older nobles made sure of it, after all, they were his seniors and the young ones should be the ones to run around all the time.

It didn't mean that Alfred couldn't heave a quiet sigh before continuing to brush away the leaves. That had been the third one that afternoon. He wasn't too happy about that. Sure, he was a fan of nature and didn't have a huge fear of spiders or anything, but three insects in one day was ridiculous. It was hard enough to come across peace and quiet while a war was raging, people were constantly pestering him, trying to get him to join their side, the more support the better. Alfred didn't want to get involved though. War was terrible. A horrible thing that should be avoided if it can be. The silent and solemn threat of defiance and an uprising had been there for a while, but the new law had been the final straw. They snapped. The people did, sought out help from the higher-ups, and then the sides were made. Allies and Rebels.

Oh yeah, and then there were the neutral people. Citizens who did not wish to choose a side, but to instead experience as peaceful a life they could manage to experience during constant battles, bloodied fights, heated arguments that turned into full on brawls. Brothers turning hostile towards one another, families separated between the sides. There were few people who could travel throughout Thalimvar freely. It was simply horrid and unpleasant.

Alfred stayed anyways.

Thalimvar was home, and he wasn't one to desert things when they were in need, especially something was so fond of. As a noble, he had access to transportation and he could very well leave the territory if he so desired, but he would never do such a thing, though he couldn't say the same for some of his fellow rich folk. Some couldn't escape the realm quick enough. As soon as war was declared, off they were. To other kingdoms, maybe even other worlds. He wasn't sure. A few of his friends had been among the ones to leave, but he refused to think of them, despite their pleading for his understanding. It just wasn't right to leave something when it was in need. The majority of his comrades, however, had chosen sides. He was left alone in Riverwell. After all, it was more exciting to fight.

Those naive, green young men had a more romantic view on war. They didn't know what it was like to have a man die at their swords. To know that life was slowly slipping from his body, and it was their fault. Their hands were forever stained red with the blood of the men they killed. Murdered. Executed. Or maybe Alfred was just being dramatic? That would be the first time, he didn't enjoy making people think things are anything more then they actually were. When he was a child, he hated disappointment. Not when other people disappointed him, no no, the risk of that was always there, but when he disappointed others. It was like he wasn't good enough to meet - or even exceed - their expectations. Alfred knew that he could exceed their expectations if he just tried hard enough, but he lacked the drive, the motivation to do such. Trying his best used up so much energy and he needed to know if it was worth it.

"Where did that William drop those things?" He asked aloud rather than mentally, because the forest was eerily quiet and he just wanted to shout. Shouting to nobody in particular would seem odd though so he just asked this question very loudly. Alfred was a mostly quiet, serious man, feeling the need to break silence was irregular and an alien feeling for him.

Tousling his ash blonde hair, he stood up (because he had been on all fours previously) and brushed his clothes off. This search was quite hopeless, and he predicted a grim ending for the quest. An ending involving Alfred going home empty-handed and very ruffled looking. The older nobles would greatly enjoy teasing and making fun of him, as they always did. Alfred didn't mind their playful banter though, it made the older men seem youthful, kept them fresh, alive. And alive was definitely something in war times.

Ears pricking at a distant sound that he couldn't quite make out, Alfred squinted and examined the forest around him much more carefully. The noise was muffled, and very very faint but it was there, he was sure of it. Funny how his ears had learned to pick up even the slightest racket, maybe it was because he didn't use his voice very often so his hearing made up for it. Such a talent would be useful to make a living as a hunter, but Alfred couldn't bring himself to kill things himself. It was.. cruel. But for some reason, he didn't mind if someone else did, as long as he wasn't there to witness it. Call him anything you wanted. Saying something was cruel but not minding if someone else did it. That was pretty strange of him.

Refocusing on the direction from which the sound originated, his curiosity took over and he began treading that way. He was wondering what could possibly have made a noise like that this deep in the forest? Tripping over a raised tree root, he clamped his mouth shut and furrowed his brows. Even he didn't want to have anymore business in the depths of the woods, who knew what types of creatures resided in such a place - possibly even people.

Shuddering at the thought but continuing anyways, Alfred eyed the vegetation around him warily, as if they might become animated and start attacking him at any moment. That wasn't a childish thought was it? It was possible after all! Who knew what could happen in a world full of magic and mischief. There were so many possibilities, he couldn't be sure as what was true and what wasn't. Which legends and stories were based off truth and which were simply thought up. Magi and healers existed, all with unique powers and abilities. Alfred couldn't be absolutely sure of anything.

Except the fact that there had been a sound, and that he was traveling to it's origins at the moment.

Now that he had walked quite a bit, he also saw some light, and a figure. As he got closer he made out the shape of a hut-like place. So there were people living in the forest. Or just one person. Maybe it was possible to survive off the resources of nature? Made sense. But by yourself? How would you not go insane? Or maybe, the person was insane already. Pausing now, he shuffled from foot to foot and tried to decide whether he should approach the suspicious building or not. It might be worth his while, he might learn a thing or two, but then again, there were risks. He had no idea what this person, or these people were like. They might attack him. It was a chance he was willing to take.

Closing the distance between himself and the structure in a few powerful strides - his long legs helping him for the most part, Alfred took a deep breath before rapping on the door to the.. house sharply, swallowing his fear and trying to look as confident as he could. He managed a lazy expression, not quite what he was aiming for but close enough.

[Jules]

Having long since given up waiting for the pot to cool, Alisse was busy examining her mess of a house. Actually, house was the wrong word. Alisse was thinking more pig sty then anything else but that wouldn’t give the poor hut any credit for keeping her safe all these years. Maybe heavenly pig sty would suffice? No, no. Pig sties were not heavenly at all, they smelled of poop and pigs (right, how ingenious) and other rancid stuff which kept others veering away. So, judging by the smell, her house was definitely not a pig sty at all. It only reeked of oldness and dust, but that was about it. Dusty house. Yep, that was it alright. She would call this place her dusty house.

Looking around from her seated position, Alisse noticed how she let all the books scatter to the ground and how many cracks there were on the walls and roof. This place would attract mice sooner or later. If there were mice in the forest, that is. Hmm, were there mice in the forest? Alisse tried remembering if she ever encountered one before. Mice, mice, mice. Then a vague memory popped out from her labyrinthian mind; a memory of walking around aimlessly through the woods and accidentally tripping over a rock and- well, that wasn’t the point. The point was that there were mice in the forest. Alisse was almost positive about it. She had seen that devilish gray mammal scurrying around before, running from an eagle or a hawk.

Stifling a yawn, Alisse pushed herself up from the chair- which she was sure had mold- and began de-cluttering her life. Starting with this wooden table in front of her.

This table was actually a gift from her father a few years back. He came to visit to check how Alisse was doing, and how far she progressed with her research. In truth, she didn’t know what she was researching about. Whatever facts she would find, she was quick to jot it down on parchment with her quill. Her father told her it was the right thing to do, and that it would lead to her thesis sooner or later. Maybe later rather than sooner, though.

A pot, an alcohol burner, a laboratory tripod, a few matches, a human map, a velvet bag of tea leaves and her mother’s quill lay on top of the table. Some were untouched and some were recently used and needed washing. What was her mother’s golden rule before she would clean? Alisse tapped her chin with her index finger in search of the answer- a habit she inherited from her father. Ah, yes, organize your things. Well, this obviously wasn’t organized. And it drove the neat Alisse deep inside her mad.

How was she to do this? It would be physically tiring, and laziness was Alisse’s main weakness. Would she exhaust her magical energy for this task? Perhaps since there were no people who passed by here (ah, the perks of being alone). Then again, what if there was a hunter brave enough to go this deep into the woods?

Now, that was nonsense.

No one ever came this far into the woods nowadays, thanks to the overreaction of that idiotic hunter. Which basically meant that Alisse lost all hope of ever contacting the outside world and actually talking to humans. But that didn’t matter. If she made friends, they would get in the way of her research and the point of living in solitude would be completely eradicated. Still, there are times when Alisse wondered how everyone was doing. Last time she heard of the outside world, there was a war going on between two sides of the kingdom. She had completely forgotten the names of both groups but she knew they were somewhere in her mind, she was just too lazy to figure them out. And it didn’t matter anyways. It’s not like she was of any use to them.

“What to do, what to do. Hmm.” She said that rather musically, adding a little melody to the short line. Indeed, she was an odd-ball. Instead of living the life of nobility, she chose to stay here. She didn’t bother wearing dresses but wore tunics, leather pants and high boots. Well, it did give her a rather daring look and still made her look gorgeous just like any dress could but it was unacceptable for women to dress like men in this society.

Women were forced to wear dresses and those God forsaken corsets. Fine, corsets made your waist thinner and made you look thin but they also constricted your breathing which was the reason why girls would faint in heavy circumstances. It was a medical fact proven by her stylish mother.

You see, Alisse’s mother was a duchess and a very well-known socialite. She was always invited to balls and fancy parties. Alisse even accompanied her mother to some. To Alisse, the gowns were fun to twirl around in. But that, for a duchess’ daughter, wasn’t exactly the best image you’d like to show your guests. The wonderful ironic world of superficiality. Her mother loved it, while Alisse loathed it. Strange how mother and daughter traits can be so similar and then so far apart.

Thinking of the past was tiring. In utter exasperation, Alisse lay her head on the table and closed her eyes. She would clean later. Or rather, she wouldn’t clean at all.

An idea struck her as she saw the small- probably knee high- statue of an owl next to her bed. It had served as her symbol for wisdom. Now it would serve as her symbol of cleanliness. Alisse would bring the statue to life so it could clean for her. Brilliant.

She stood up hastily, letting the chair clatter behind her, then walked toward the statue. Alisse closed her eyes as she laid her hand on the owl’s head. She imagined infusing it with her aura, bringing it to life, animating its movements. Her pure white aura blossomed around her, encompassing her in a shimmering white cocoon of pure magic. Then came a knock on Alisse’s door.

Alisse frowned, her aura slowly dying down. A knock. There was someone outside.

[Crispy Bacon]

Looking at the door uncertainly, Alfred swallowed nervously and raised the knuckles of his left hand to knock again before he lowered his arm again when he decided not to for the time being. He didn't know what to do at the moment. Should he just barge in? Goodness, of course not. That wasn't the gentlemanly thing to do. He would just have to think of something. It had been a while though, if the person had decided that they would let him in wouldn't they have answered already? Maybe they just hadn't heard him. He doubted that, his knock had been sharp and loud enough, especially since the forest around them was so quiet.

"I wonder how I became such a dull lad." He mumbled to himself, stepping back a little way off from the hut and his hand slid into the sack he was carrying with him. His willowy but strong fingers fumbled around in the full sack, bumping into various items, curving around very solid things that could not be moved by the strength of his digits alone, and his index finger was even pricked by something that was sharp and must be dealt with on a later date. Much rummaging later - rummaging that included him finally getting fed up and sliding the pack off his back and beating it very lightly - Alfred brought out a small golden pocket watch and checked the time. It was the middle of the afternoon, had that much time passed since he had started his epic search? He hadn't even found what he was looking for yet!

Alfred frowned at the pocket watch before he tucked it away. It had been a gift from his father, an old gift, the watch was easily three times his age and he loved it. Being one of his favourite possessions, Alfred rarely let this particular item out of his sight, few were trusted to merely hold it, only a select number of people had ever seen it. To sum it up, Alfred wasn't going to ever let any harm come to the small but greatly treasured watch. It was the last gift he had received from either parent. His father disappeared once the watch had been given to him, and his mother... She was gone. He'd rather not think about it, the story was painful and depressing. One of his least favourite memories, and also one he just couldn't seem to forget. The bad memories are usually the ones you can remember and recall perfectly. It was quite frustrating most of the time, forgetting the details of pleasant memories and remembering the details of unpleasant memories.

Wait, what if there wasn't anyone inside? Yes, there was a light on but maybe the owner of the... house had just left it on. Left it on and went there? Alfred was confusing himself. What was he even thinking about anymore? His thoughts were all over the place. Scanning the clearing he was in, he shifted from foot to foot before spotting a large rock. Shaking his head at what he was about to do, he walked over to it, stared at it for a moment as if it would come alive and chase him, then perched himself on the edge of it. That was better. He had been on his feet for the majority of the day and it was just killing him. How did those peasants do it? He applauded their tolerance for pain, he would never be able to do such a thing. Alfred was much too pampered and spoiled, used to the easy life and not having to put any real effort into the things he did.

Sometimes, he really hated himself. What did he do to deserve such things? The answer was nothing. Nothing at all. Alfred J. Seymour was no phenomenon. He had never done anything in his life that was particularly spectacular or special. To put it simply, he was just a plain boy with a small list of accomplishments. Very small. In fact, did he have any accomplishments at all? Yes, yes he did. They were nonexistent. That made him feel very ashamed. So ashamed, that he hung his head and almost shed a small tear for his pathetic existence. But Alfred had never been a crier, he would rather rant and throw a tantrum like the snotty rich person he was at heart, than cry anything that really signified not weakness, but the ability to feel genuine emotion. Teals were the real deal. In fact, he admired those who weren't afraid to cry. It was healthy to do so once in a while.

That little discussion he had with himself in his head seemed to sober him a bit, he stood up and walked back to the front of the home. He had decided to just call it a home because house wasn't exactly right, but hut sounded incorrect as well. Sucking in a shaky breath, he looked at the door doubtfully before knocking again and releasing the breath he had been holding. Better to knock again before knocking down the door. Just to be on the safe side. He didn't think that he would be able to live it down if he found himself face to face with someone. Of course, the nobles would find out sooner or later. They had their ways. It was, honestly, quite eerie but he didn't dare question it. Who knew what type of other things they could do?

Hearing no answer again for the second time, he deemed it safe to burst in the home because he was terribly curious and it was killing him to not open the door. It might have not been locked, it was in the thickest part of the forest, there was no need for a lock, but Alfred just wanted to get it quick and open in one try. Hopping back a few steps, he raised his leg before letting it snap out and take down the door. Alfred promptly stepped through the doorway into the home and found him staring face to face with a lady. In the same exact situation he had been hoping to avoid.

Blinking his almost femininely pretty green eyes, Alfred spluttered for a bit before managing a flustered, "Dear lord, I'm quite sorry about the door. I'll have the replacement paid for immediately." Shifty eyes and an uncomfortable smile. "I didn't think there would be anyone in here.." He said almost inaudibly, laughing through his embarrassment and scratching his neck. His fingers came to a familiar part, the place of his tattoo. Alfred knew where it was by touch and he always paused when he knew it was under his fingers. It wasn't a larger tattoo, but it was certainly noticeable. Most asked why he got it, he would never tell. For a good reason, he liked to think. To honor the person he had gotten it for. The people who asked had no need to know anyways. That matter was personal and they had no business inquiring about it. Some things were just better left alone.

Such a brave, invincible person he had gotten the tattoo for. Alfred had adored and idolized him when he was younger. The older, ideal brother he had never had. Someone who he had wanted to be so much like, the person Alfred wanted to be but just couldn't be. He just couldn't. Hopeless. No use trying.

Clenching his fist, Alfred looked down and realized that there was blood dripping from his hand. Looked like it hadn't been just a small little prick after all. Fascinated, he watched as the amounts of deep, scarlet red gathered and rolled with the curves of his hand. What sort of thing had caused him this sort of wound? It must have been much sharper than he had thought it was. Just like him, underestimating things and totally in awe when they surpassed his expectations. Snapping out of the strange trance he had been put in from watching the blood, his own blood, flow from his cut, he looked up at the lady and smiled abashedly.

"As you can see, I'm rather clumsy."

[Jules]

Staring was something her mother wouldn’t have done, much less staring at a gentleman. Alisse was constantly reminded not to let her mind wander when in the presence of the man for women weren’t regarded highly in today’s society, which was also one of the reasons why Alisse left in the first place. Such injustices begged her disapproval.

But why was a man, a man who looked like one of noble blood, here in the forest? Surely, there must have been a reason why, though it was not of her business to ask. Curiosity after all was what killed the cat. She almost chuckled at this thought. What a queer statement. Had curiosity really kill the cat or was it of the cat’s doing?

Patting the owls head thrice, Alisse stood and straightened her white tunic. Yet another thing her mother would disapprove of. Women, after all, were supposed to wear dresses, frilly things and the finest jewelry. But materialistic things that were definitely not going to last long are a bad investment. If you asked her, Alisee would’ve invested into comfortable leather boots and tunics made of soft cotton. And maybe an owl or two...

Hmm, what was she to do with this fellow over here? Clearly, he had damaged the front door and barged in. Well, it was partly Alisse’s fault for not answering his permission to enter, and she wasn’t wrathful in the least... So, perhaps, it was best to strike a conversation? How odd it is to have a visitor after the longest time.

Clearing her throat, Alisse fought the temptation to have a good joke and scare the poor man away. Maybe he needed assistance with something and got lost on his way here? Taking another step forward, she said out of pure curiosity “My, my... Aren’t we a tad bit lost?”.

Shockingly, Alisse’s voice sounded almost calm, as if she was used to having visitors. For sure, it was her mother’s blood kicking in, her extremely social and gullible mother. Ah, how she missed her despite their differences. Alisse decided at that very moment that she would visit her mother one of these days and surprise her with her ‘barbaric’ appearance. What a hearty laugh that would be. She could almost imagine her mother fainting at the site of her poorly groomed daughter.

Taking a few more shuffling steps closer, Alisse examined the stranger who barged into her home.

He sure looked rich, alright. His clothes said it all, though Alisse had no words to explain such extravagance. Tousled blonde hair and green- rather dismayed- eyes were probably his striking features, along with his height. She couldn’t quite remember seeing someone as tall as he. Or maybe he wasn’t tall... Maybe it was just Alisse’s short stature? Well, however you put it, the stranger was several inches taller than her. He looked like a man her mother would dance with in balls and parties.

“If you don’t mind me asking, sir... How did you end up in the forest depths?” Alisse tilted her head to the side, tapping her index finger against her lips. There was something strange about this man. His energy flow was clearly human but it was weakening; disrupted by something. Perhaps an injury? She tried to feel for the energy again and noticed a blind spot in the stranger’s hand, a hole wherein the flow was weakest. Alisse squinted at the man’s hand and noticed a gaping wound, dispatching blood to the wooden floor of her hut.

“Quite an injury you have there,” Alisse said with a glint of amusement in her eyes. What was she now? A cleric? Why, wasn’t she an Enchantress just a few months ago? Needless to say, this man was hurt and needed help. And being the ‘good’ person she was, Alisse would not turn him down.

Alisse took a few more steps and knelt down in front of the stranger. Hastily taking his bleeding hand, she rambled on about the layers of skin and how lucky he was for not injuring the second layer. His hands were the hands of nobility, soft to the touch. What an unfortunate accident having to injure hands like these. Closing her eyes, she willed her aura to flow from her finger tips and repair the damaged tissues. This was always accompanied by a tingling sensation of sorts, a tingling which tickled Alisse the first few times but had no such effect on her now.

Letting go of the man’s hand, Alisse added “Sorry, there isn’t much to do about the scar,”With a small scowl, she pointed at the pink patch of flesh at his hand then continued to talk “You should be careful around these parts. It is dangerous to venture out into the woods at this time, especially when the Dionaea muscipula is at bloom..”

Standing once again, Alisse scratched her head then headed off to the table. What a strange day this would turn out to be. “Dionaea muscipula is a Venus Fly Trap, in case you didn’t know.”

OOC: FAIL POST. ;_;

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