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LAURALAE

COURT None
TITLE N/A; Witch of Nimh Gleanne
OCCUPATION Witch, teacher
ABLE TO FAST-TRAVEL Wolf form
RESIDENCE IN 2,701 Nimh Gleanne
RESIDENCE IN 2,702 Unknown; travelling

MAJOR EVENTS

THE MAGIC GUILD
Lauralae meets Saber who promises to introduce her to the Magic Guild to help her with her curse - the first to know some of the finer details - in return for assistance with regards to blood magic and bonding. [ ✖ ]

BLESSING IORVETH
At the Pool of Souls at Samhain Lauralae leaves Iorveth with a mark of her lips on his hand; a blood magic blessing, it keeps him from some measure of harm for when she is away from him. [ ✖ ]

TOUCHING CLARKE
The very first time Lauralae has embraced someone since she was a young girl. [ ✖ ]

SUMMARY OF KNOWN DETAILS
Lauralae's foremost desire before timeskip began was to expand her range of power and adapt for her survival now that she has found a shardholder that she has claimed as her own; she means to protect him, if only so she can claim her shard as his own as soon as possible. Spending time with Iorveth has not softened her at all - if anything it has hardened her and made her more difficult to be around, her rather violent nature, inspired by her curse, inflamed by his company and his own rather cruel turn.

Throughout the timeskip itself Lauralae had moved around, travelling from place to place in order to learn as much as possible about shard magic and what she might be able to use it for. She traded her own knowledge, blood magic and it's power, for whatever magic shard users could teach her and she holds on to it, craving it and uses it to further herself. She has learned how to control and manipulate water, to heal and obtained gifts - she also travelled to Redgate to learn more about blood granite, eventually obtaining some of her own.

She has grown a little more confident over the last year but she has also fallen prey to more of the darkness that she suffers from; she kills without hesitation, now, more than just to eat but also for defence, and she doesn't care about the lives she takes. In spite of that she does have more hope; knowing that she has people that name her friend who intend to help her softens the anger that she feels on a regular basis.

TIMELINE OF EVENTS

SPRING IN 2,701 (Mar, Apr, May)

APRIL - Meeting Harry Potter.
APRIL - Meeting Sua and obtaining a pouch.

SUMMER IN 2,701 (Jun, Jul, Aug)

JUNE - Teaching Clara blood magic.
JULY - Letter from the Brucolac.
AUGUST - Letter from Clarke Griffin.

FALL IN 2,701 (Sept, Oct, Nov)

SEPTEMBER - Meeting Saber; invited to the Magic Guild and guided Saber to a bonding ritual.
SEPTEMBER - Trading information for blood granite at the Brucolac's spire.
OCTOBER - Samhain revels.
OCTOBER - The Pool of Souls at Samhain.
OCTOBER - Meeting Lavellan at Samhain.
OCTOBER - Meeting Kieren at Samhain.
OCTOBER - Meeting Flora at Samhain.
OCTOBER - Meeting Grell at Samhain.
OCTOBER - Meeting John, Shuck's Son, at Samhain.
NOVEMBER - Letter and gifts from Clarke.

WINTER IN 2,701/2,702 (Dec, Jan, Feb)

DECEMBER - Visiting and touching Clarke for the first time.
DECEMBER - The Hart Hunt with Bellamy.
JANUARY - Slaughtering assassins at Clarke's side.
JANUARY - The Festival of Shadow.
JANUARY - Stalking Morgana at the Festival.

SPRING IN 2,702 (Mar, Apr)

MARCH - Teaching Wan to use blood magic.
APRIL - Teaching Elizabeth of York to use blood magic.

( codes by whambam )

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I seek freedom. I do not know how to remove the chains that claim me.

[ She turns her head away, fingers flexing. They are black under her gloves, hidden away, and they are what she seeks to remove - that and the creature inside of her, eating at her spirit when she neglects herself. ]

Shardbearers have magic and offer myself for lessons on what is common to this world. Any tutor may hold the key to my freedom.

[Freedom from chains that she knew not how to remove... It reminded Saber so very much of herself, bound as she was to chivalry and honor, with Angra Mainyu pulling at her soul and whispering atrocious things into her mind, urging her that they were meant to be.

Saber got to her feet and crossed over to Lauralae, meeting her eyes.]

The magic I possess is not the same as magic of other shardbearers. I cannot teach it to you, but I may be willing to help. And I can set you up with the Magic Guild. The Premier is a shardbearer and my war mage. She will teach you if I ask it of her.

I would like to know more about what we are dealing with. I want you to be free. [Just as Saber wanted to be free.]

[ Her chains are different, she thinks, from others. A spirit that called for her, that reached to grasp at her body and stole a part of herself, that left her hands tainted with death and incapable of surviving the magic, now running free, without protection... But the chance to be free. It strikes at her and makes her pause, tilting her head to watch Saber with a careful, measured gaze. ]

You ask the entire truth of me in return for aid?

[ To go to the Magic Guild, to a war mage, to be aided, perhaps to find a means to separate herself. That seems far too great a prize. ]

That is your only cost?

Your ancestor's magic is of interest to me. [Saber was careful not to call the Aellyn Laurale's people, not certain how thin the line of exile was and not wanting to offend.] I do not deny that. There are things I seek through the magic of the Drabwurld, things I thought the Aellyn may know how to accomplish.

Tell me your truth, teach me of your ancestors and their magic. And remember. That is all I ask.

You are welcome to offer more than that if you feel it is not enough.

I will tell you all I know of what I learned, the magic that they taught me before I lost my path. I will give that to you, Saber. Know that it is pure magic, in it's deepest form, with blood a source, a gift to bring it to flower.

[ She pauses before she steps forward, careful. ]

You give me a great honour. I hold no love in my heart for those that carry shards and you have shown me kindnesses I have not earned, for your heart is lighter than my own. Will you accept a secret on top of my lessons, my histories, a gift to you to show my trust?

[ Lauralae watches Saber carefully, expression set. ]

The proof of my tale, a mark of my past that bares more ill to me than my ears ever have.

[Blood magic. Saber had heavy suspicions that the Aellyn practiced it, and the King knew that blood magic was perhaps the most powerful magic of the Drabwurld. Rin knew some blood magic and Saber, herself, had picked up what may be one of the most basic blood magic spells to keep a conversation only heard between those affected by the spell.

And it may be through that magic that Saber would learn of a way to link herself and Rin together, in a pact that was not a pact, an emotional connection where they would be able to sense each other and connect no matter the distance between them. Maybe this was the way. And Saber's blood... She was blood of the dragon. There was a lot of power in her blood, in her A++ Mana Rank.]

I will accept that which you wish to show me, that which you choose to trust me with; I am the Winter King. And though I am not your King and a shardbearer not from this realm, I care for the people of Dorchadas. I potect them... even those that claim no kin, no ties and walk alone.

My word is my honor, Lauralae. I will not speak of your secrets if you give them to me.

[ It's difficult to tell what either of them are thinking in these moments; they are both stern women, Lauralae thinks, and she is careful to regard Saber with a measured glance, not letting any of her emotions overwhelm her. When the promise comes it is enough and she moves, stepping back and bowing her head before she lifts her arms.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she rolls back the sleeves of her robe, baring her forearms; one side has deep scratches, made with what seems to be human nails, scarred onto the flesh while the other side is littered with marks, wounds that have healed to scar only to be reopened again. The price of blood magic when palms cannot be used. Finally, bared, she moves, drawing off the gloves on her hands - only to bare them to Saber, blackened and wrong. ]

Do not touch them.

[ She is quick to give the warning, in case the thought had passed through Saber's mind. ]

The true chain that binds me, a curse that I do not know the name of. The thing inside the book crept through my skin, tried to take me, and was so far gone by the time I had fought it's hold. They have skin, yes, but black, and magic is not barred nor hidden. I have no control over their power, only knowing that a single touch can burn or bleed anyone that dares consider it.

[ A deadly weapon but, at the same time, an isolating one. She has not touched another person skin on skin since she was a true Aellyn. ]

[Possession. Something parasitical, trying to consume her. Again, Saber felt similarity between herself and the elf, for when - if. If Angra Mainyu fully consumed Saber, her skin would turn as black as shadow with the red lines woven all over her body. She fought against it every moment. But still, it was different for Saber had accepted Angra Mainyu, choosing to house all the evils of the world within her for the chance to continue on. She could have died, but had the will to refuse death.

Similar but different.

Even with the warning, Saber moved on hand toward Lauralae's hands, though she did stop short of touching her. She closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to sense the presence of the second entity.]

Will you allow me to test a few things in an attempt to understand this other being?

[ She pauses, hesitant. Her fingers curl back, clenched hands, and her eyes rake over the other woman, on edge and a little lost before she breathes out. She has never had much faith in the Shardholders, never thought them great beyond the magic they possessed, but this was a kindness she had not expected to see in one. The offer of help, more than anything else, rather than her craving the urge to steal their power and make it her own... That settles her.

What is obvious, from the sense of power, is the way that the half-there entity that tried to take her feasts upon her body and her magic. If she does not feed herself with meats the magic tears at her flesh, making her limbs weaker and her body thinner; it feeds on her if she does not care for herself, coiling around her and drawing strength from her starvation. She does not know it's name, only that it feasts on her pain with glee. ]

I will. Heed my warning, Saber. My hands burn and spark like wildfire and I know no way to stop them, save my gloves.

I understand your warning.

[Saber spoke quietly as she took in what she sensed. Her perceptions weren't as great as those of the Caster Class, but she was a spirit herself, if of a unique variety. And because of the Angra Mainyu inside herself, she knew what things to look for. But she didn't get as good of a picture as she wanted.

Slowly, Saber took the glove of her left hand off and rolled her sleeve up. She then held her arm out before her, eyes locking on Lauralae's.]

But I will need you to touch my arm with them for several seconds. It will tell me the flow of energy regarding your curse. Before you begin protesting, allow me to show you something.

[Saber pulled a common dagger from her boot and slashed it quickly across her arm. Blood welled up, showing the flesh had indeed been cut. But then Saber pulled a handkerchief out after sliding the dagger back into her boot and wiped the blood up. There was no indication that Saber had ever been cut other than the blood staining the cloth.]

Yes, you will hurt me, but I will heal it. It will also tell me how much magic is in your curse.

[There was always the possibility that her very high Magic Resistance would protect her from the touch if it was magical in nature. Most magic just slid off her because of it.]

[ She watches, intent, as Saber moves, showing her the power that stands at her possession. It is great, even by the standards of Shardholders, and she finds herself craving a taste, to sink her teeth in and draw it out, to see the depths of it. It's a passing fancy, of course, her own desires and urges overcome her, and after a moment's pause she nods her head. ]

You heal well, Saber. You are strong, hardy, made for your power and your gifts. I am glad to see such a person walk the pathways of this land.

[ It is strange, though, she thinks, to feel as though she might be capable of trusting someone. To see this woman, a creature of a Far World, and believe that she might be capable of surviving what had been the worst of trials and hells for herself. Her fingers flex, blackened and pained, unused to the freedom of being let out from their own prison, and there's a snap, crack of magic, a flicker of something like nerves on Lauralae's face before she breathes out.

Slowly, she reaches, letting her fingers wrap around Saber's, their palms touching.

The magic lurches out quickly; what is obvious is that it's not that Lauralae's hands are cursed or broken, more that it is as if the skin that is missing, regrown dark and like death, is a break in the barrier of flesh and bone that keeps magic inside. It's like a constant open wound, the magic blood coming from the heart of her, unable to find a means to clot itself or restrain the desire to be free. The magic is rather like a living creature, festering on her, and the touch of skin on skin empowers it.

It doesn't look as though anything is happening, truly, but whatever force has possessed Lauralae's hands reaches out and tries to leech on to Saber, tries to grip at her and burn, to suck the very life from her fingertips and leave it barren in it's wake. Lauralae gasps herself, the twisting sensation almost painful, her eyes flickering before she tugs her hand away, clutching it to her chest and blinking back the emotion that overcomes her. Chest heaving, her breathing heavy and pained, she swallows and looks up at the other woman, expression tight. ]

I - I apologise. I have never... No one, before this. I had not dared and I was unsure...

[It hurt. There was no mistaking that fact. Saber's face remained mostly stoic, though the muscle along her jaw twitched as she endured it.

This sensation was so eerily familiar to Saber, that feeling of something reaching out to grab and take and take and take, as if by doing so, it would find life or, even worse, find cracks it could insinuate itself into. Unfortunate for the thing inside the elf, those gaps had already been filled by something far nastier than a hungry spirit.

There was some resistance as it yanked on Saber's prana - for that was what a Servant's life force was - as the Magic Resistance did help some, but Saber's prana was vast and stealing thirty or so units from her was something she could afford to lose when she had a Master that provided her easily four times that much a day without any strain. Still, the skin did take on a reddish tint, like it was sunburned, where Lauralae's hand had been, and a few blisters formed by the time the contact was ended.

Saber did breathe a bit easier once they were separated. She looked down at her hand, flexing her fingers before shaking the sting off her skin. Before the elven maiden's eyes, Saber's hand healed of its damage, though Saber knew the sensation would linger for a bit before she would be able to fully shake it off. It did make her not keen to ever repeat that experiment again.

One thing trying to consume her was enough.]

You need not apologize. I am alright. Take a few deep breaths and don your gloves again.

[ She knew that she had caused pain, her eyes flickering over the woman before her, intense and hard.

Truly, she has no idea what her magic is any longer. All Aellyn are magically talented, any book in the Drabworld may be capable of telling that, but there is something unique about hers that she knows comes from the book she read, the way that it settled upon her and tried to seep into her flesh. She is not a simple elven creature with broken ears and a loss of her identity; she is something she cannot name, turned feral in the dark of the power she had sought.

At Saber's command she moves, reaching to draw on her gloves and pull them on, her fingers feeling tight and prickled under the simple silk. The magic had run free for too long, she thinks, and she can feel the yearning to let them lose once more, to bare her fingertips to the world and ignore the power they hold, the dark, rotting magic that makes her want to bare her teeth and turn wolf, to be what she is in her heart and nothing else. At times, when she is tired or hungry, that urge is harder to swallow, but time and time again she manages. She fights because she must.

Red skin. It was handsome, compared to the black of her own, and she hesitated before she turned her head, watching the woman. ]

They will not harm you again. I will not - I cannot allow it.

[ Lauralae does what she can to force her voice to be firm, lips pressed tight before she deliberately attempts to turn herself stoic. It does not work, not entirely, and she ignores the feeling of loss, as if she had walked forward into a great battle and ended up with her head in a noose and her heart in someone else's hands. The feeling of failure is not so foreign to her that she cannot place it when it comes. ]

You are certain you are well? I have vials, potions, made with my own hands. The plants tolerate my touch even as flesh does not.

Do not worry or condemn yourself over this, Lauralae. I had a good idea what I was getting into when I asked you to touch me. I have a familiarity with these kinds of forces.

I still feel a bit of a tingle, but it is fading very fast. Your potions are appreciated, but not needed. Save them for those in need. See? The redness is already gone.

[She held her hand up before putting her own glove back on.]

Though what did happen gave me a good idea of the type of thing inside you, but not how deeply connected you and it are. And though I could learn that, to do so violates my personal code. Your soul is your own and I will not directly touch it.

I would not allow you to touch my soul.

[ Not because she is protective of it in any particular way but because she views it as dark, evil, corrupted by magic and the sum of things that'd happened to her. She was not the naive, innocent creature she had been, even the one that had left the Aellyn lands with head held high and palms bare to the world, but she knows more than to imagine that Saber would find any relief in touching that part of her spirit.

Her hand closes tight on the edge of the opposite glove before she turns her head up to Saber. Careful, slow, steady... ]

I have been teaching people from your Court. I offer my magic to them and, in turn, they offer their own. If there are any others that would do well learning from one like myself...

[ A blood mage, even one as lonely as she herself is, with power that she cannot begin to describe. ]

I will offer myself.

[Saber decided not to tell Lauralae that she wouldn't be able to stop her from touching her soul if she wanted to. Servants could feed on the souls of others to increase their power or use it to sustain themselves. But it was completely against Saber's code to do such.]

I would learn. I seek a way to link two people together so that even across the length of the realm, they can feel the presence of each other. I believe the key to that, in this world, may be through blood.

And I will send word to Premier Ausa that you will be learning magic from her at the Magic Guild.

I will find the answers you seek. Blood is the source, the power, in this world. If there is anything that will empower that wish it would be blood magic.

[ She nods her head, tilting her gaze away for a moment before she breathes out. ]

I thank you for that. You are fair and kind, Saber.

Yes, I am fair, but I am only kind to those deserving of it. You have given me no reason to treat you any less than I have, nor are you an enemy of mine. [Or of the Unseelie, as far as Saber could tell.]

As long as you hold to your word, you will find me to be an honorable King.

[She gestured to the wall she'd been sitting on before.] Sit and relax with me. And tell me, Lauralae, is what I seek something that has been done in this realm before?

[ She nods, carefully, moving with gentle steps to settle on the wall, lifting herself without letting her hands rest anywhere for too long. ]

Everything has been done in this realm before. Be it by native or by shardholder hands it will have been done, with great or little power.

[ She turns her head away, considering. ]

Blood is power. If there was a means of collecting the blood of the two, those that wished to see and feel each other, replenishing it whenever possible to strengthen the bond, it would likely be easy. There would need to be a means of unifying them, joining them together without losing the nature of the magic in the blood... It has been done. I am certain of it.

Obtaining the blood is easy, as would replenishing it as both would be willing. But... one is highly resistance to magic. The spell used to bind them together would need to be very, very powerful.

[Saber considered for a moment.] It sounds as though a vessel, an item of power, imbued with the blood carried by each would be the easiest, but such things are capable of being lost, stolen or destroyed. I seek something stronger than that. Something that links and perhaps bonds essence or spirit. Hearts even.

I may be making it needlessly complicated. [Magic wasn't her strong point despite possessing quite a potential.]

Then you would require a ritual. Something more intense than just blood magic. It would need to be a part of you, or redone time and time again when the magic wore thin.

[ Lauralae nods, watching Saber carefully, admiring her quick thinking even as she says nothing of it. ]

If you wish to bond on such a level...

[ She turns her head away, thinking. ]

Runes. Borne of blood and made of a mixture of ink and life taken from you, inscribed on skin. Use the rune for the soul and join together those that wish to be bound in a ritual ceremony.

[Saber listened carefully, her thoughts shifting toward what she knew of runes from her own time and from Merlin. She nodded, not phased by the idea of tattooing something upon her skin. This wasn't her true body, but the container for her soul, and there were the lines from Angra Mainyu upon her skin that looked to much like a tattoo. It was Rin that may have the issue with such a mark, though the magus did possess command seals which were a lot like this.]

Will you research this and create the ritual needed, write it upon parchment for the ones involved to see and look over before it is done? I ensure you, that should this method be chosen, you will be present to guide the ritual.

[ She is quiet for a long time, her expression neutral as she watches Saber, eyes drawing over her face, her features, before she shifts and nods her head, moving back a little. ]

I will. It will be done and given to you to judge and I shall be present to help command the magic as you see fit.

[A part of Saber wondered if Lauralae had any idea that Saber was one half of the pair to be bonded. And if so, should she worry about any tampering? Saber's personal code of honor, sometimes made her more trusting than she should be, but it had been long since she was willing to swallow betrayal with a sad smile. No, she would retaliate with rage, and there were enough stories of her rage, of the terror she'd been on the battlefield back in February, that only the overconfident or foolish would seek to play her.

The thought was easily pushed aside. This was a deal, and Saber sensed that Lauralae would hold up her end. And maybe there was something in the way the king treated her, offered the help she had, that meant more to the elven woman than Saber even knew about. Aellyn culture was still foreign to her. Even that of an exiled Aellyn elf.

Saber would trust her gut. She offered a hand to Lauralae to seal their deal.]

Thank you. I will not forget your efforts, nor my own responsibility toward your magic education at the Guild. I am glad that I met you, Lauralae.

[ She hesitates for a long moment. It takes her a little while to come to terms with what is being offered in front of her - not just the Guild and the chance at more power but, also, the knowledge and the offer of more touch. She has gone without it for so long that it makes her feel stretched out and aching, her throat a little tighter before she shift.

Her hand touches Saber's and she shakes it, quickly, before she draws it back. She hadn't felt it, her gloves don't permit that, but it was there all the same. She knows it had happened and, for now, that would have to be enough. She had to accept it because nothing else would do. ]

I will not forget your words nor your promises to me. You have been kind.

[ And she nods. ]

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