Takes an Acolyte to know an Acolyte [BP/Darth]

If people could be said to dream in their unconsciousness, then Lamia's were unpleasant dreams. She watched herself wander fields of fire- where the grass, trees, and beasts had been set alight. The beasts still prowled, however, the air behind them spontaneously combusting as they ran. Air currents turned to trails of flame as she watched, and she spun to guide one such trail in a large arc around her to avoid being set aflame herself. She ran, one of the fiery beasts chasing after her. Unarmed as she was, she only had her fire to protect her, which was as ineffective as it was normally disastrous. Finally, she tripped, falling down into the flames on the ground and miraculously staying unharmed. As she turned around to see where the beast was, it was already upon her, pouncing and pinning her to the ground, where it brought its face level with hers.

Just as it began to snarl, Lamia gasped and woke, jolting upright and putting a hand on her face. She knew her eyes had to be wild, and she wished she had her glaive to hold on to as she felt her own fire swelling inside her with her panic again. She shook her head, finally realising that she was not in a flaming field, and clamped her head between her knees, her eyes now firmly shut as she attempted to regain her composure.

Judith could not recall a time in recent memory where she had been as embarrassed as she was now. No sooner had she brought Lamia inside and put her in a bed to rest than her father had appeared on her doorstep, expressing a concern for his daughter's well-being. Apparently, the acolytes' training session had not gone unnoticed by the citizens of Lon Lon, including the minor explosion that had accompanied Lamia's fainting. When she explained the situation, her father had clucked his tongue and handed her a metal canteen. This trinket, which he called a Bottomless Bottle, held an infinite supply of whatever liquid had last been poured into it. Despite having bought it a few days ago at the market with the intention of using it to help water his crops, the old tycoon nonetheless relinquished it to Judith, insisting that if she was going to play with fire, she might as well keep it.

He also cheerfully reminded her not to be so wasteful with scarecrows from his fields, especially if she was going to take them without asking, before departing. Judith prayed that no one had seen that bit as she went to retrieve Lamia's glaive from her yard. Nobody would take her seriously if they knew that she was still being scolded like a little girl by her father! By the time she made it back into her home, she was about ready to scream out in frustration. Had she not been expected to remain dignified by virtue of being a priestess, she might well have done so.

Seating herself at her desk with an exasperated sigh, Judith buried her face in her hands. This was awful. She'd made no progress with Lamia, and now her brothers would have quite the laugh at her expense. At this rate, the Archcanoness would never entrust her with an assignment again! Still, she supposed there was no use crying over spilled milk and feeling sorry for herself. She would have to pass the time until her guest awoke before she could do anything to rectify the situation.

Eager to take her mind off the whole affair, Judith pulled out her father's impromptu gift and examined it more closely. So, this bottle could contain a limitless amount of water? That, at least, promised to lift a burden from her shoulders. No longer would she need to get up early every morning to fill her jug at the river... Not that she would use her newfound free time to sleep in, of course, not when she could be researching spells or meditating. Perhaps Mother Nayru had taken mercy on her after all, to have eliminated such a troublesome part of her daily routine.

Just then, she heard movement, and she spun around to discover that Lamia had risen and adopted the fetal position, obviously still woozy from her experience.

"Oh! You're awake..." Judith spoke softly, trying not to alarm the Gerudo with a sudden loud noise. "You, um, passed out. We're back inside my abbey. I carried you in. Don't worry, your glaive is right there, in the corner. I brought it in right after you." She indicated the weapon, which she'd taken the liberty of rewrapping, with a wave of her hand. Then, leaning toward Lamia with concern in her eyes, Judith asked the most important question.

"How are you feeling? No one else was hurt, if that's what you're wondering..."

It was relieving to hear that no one other than Lamia herself had gotten hurt, and the Gerudo used that knowledge to force her panic to dissipate. With a few minutes, she felt herself calming down, and she got up from the bed. As she set her foot on the abbey floor and put her weight on it, she realised that her body was stiff and ached, as always. She winced, but walked towards the corner and took the wrapped-up glaive in her hands. It didn't have to be unwrapped for her to draw comfort from it.

She was almost afraid to ask, but she had to break the silence somehow. "...did you see or sense anything, Sister? Anything useful? At all?"

Seeing a fellow mage so distraught triggered a surge of empathy within the dejected Hylian. Regardless of her religious affiliation, this girl required comfort, and Nayru's followers were not the type to deny succour to the needy. Judith got up from her chair and reached out to the Gerudo, clasping her hand in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture.

"Actually... I might have." Upon further reflection, a thought had occurred to Judith. Of course, without Lamia's input, it only amounted to a shot in the dark, but, Mother Nayru willing, she had stumbled across the root of the problem. "When you cast, do you try to expel the arcane energies out of your body directly? Because, if so, that could be it. I know it sounds counterintuitive, but it's better to just let the magic flow through you. Don't resist or try to impose your will upon it. Attempting to brute-force a spell is something only an experienced mage can do reliably. For a novice, doing so often results in physical overexertion and disproportionate levels of magical backlash..." Judith gave her guest a meaningful glance as she finished the last sentence, hoping the common side-effects of the process she'd just described would sound familiar to her.

It was always hard putting arcane theory into words, and Judith braced herself for the inevitable torrent of questions Lamia would have. She was fully prepared to clarify and demonstrate what she meant.

Lamia turned her face away from Judith, staring at nothing in particular as she ran her thoughts over the priestess's theory. Did she do that? She supposed it was possible. Putting her hand to her chin and turning back to her conversational partner, she nodded slowly. "That... may be possible, yes. I know how volatile my fire is, so I may subconsciously try to will it into behaving. Is that... bad?" She shook her head now, a little nervously. "But if I don't control it, no one will. And if it's not controlled..." she shivered. "Din only knows what it will do if it's not under someone's control."

She tapped the floor of the abbey with the butt end of her wrapped-up glaive as she pondered. Would it be worth the trouble to tell Judith about her dream? No, she decided. She didn't even know if it meant anything. And even if it did, what were the odds of a priestess associated with a goddess entirely uninvolved with fire knowing anything about it? No, better to consult with one of Din's own priests on this.

"No, it isn't bad, per se... Merely inefficient and rather taxing on your body." Judith reiterated, feeling like she was talking to a lost child. "I am not suggesting that you should surrender yourself to the flames. That would be insanity. What I am saying is that there is a difference between being ruled by magic and being one with it. Ideally, a spell should function as an extension of the self, not as a tool to be wielded. By attempting to assert your authority over eldritch energies, you handicap yourself, for you must then wage a continual struggle to maintain your command over them, with catastrophic results should you succumb even once. Whereas if you treat magic as an equal, the effects occur naturally and the risks are much smaller. The same principle can be applied even to things that aren't strictly magic but involve the manipulation of mystical energies; techniques and the like."

Surveying Lamia's face for any sign of confusion, Judith drew her staff and gestured toward the main hall of the abbey. "I do not claim to have all the answers, but if you'll follow me, I can show you firsthand what I mean..." Noting the Gerudo's weary countenance, she swiftly followed up with an alternate proposal. "... Assuming you're up to it, of course. You did just wake... If you'd prefer, I could fix us something to eat first."

Nutrition was of vital importance to an aspiring mage, yet Judith had never imagined in her wildest daydreams that she would host a meal with a Gerudo guest, much less one who was a member of the Order of Din. Regardless, she was dedicated to the cause of restoring Lamia's powers to a stable state, and was willing to endure far worse in the line of duty. Perhaps she could even impress the other priestess with her culinary skills, which Judith insisted were derived from Wisdom itself. In reality, she had simply read lots of cookbooks, but Lamia would have no way of knowing that.

A continual struggle to maintain control... yes, that was exactly how Lamia would describe it. She shut her eyes in concentration as she tried to summon the exact image of the beast in her dream. Had it been canine or feline? She couldn't remember. "Magic is like a sentient force," she muttered, realisation dawning upon her, "And it resists having a will imposed on it..." and fire was well-known to be volatile and dangerous to begin with. "That makes sense. I think that gives me something to work with, at the very least."

She smiled, but before she could say anything else, her stomach interjected with an impressive rumble. Magic drained her strength and energy, and she had to eat soon. A little embarrassed, she set her glaive down. "I... would like to have a meal, if it's not too imposing, Sister."

"Yes, exactly!" Judith exclaimed excitedly, allowing herself a smile. She'd been afraid the Gerudo would dismiss her theory as loquacious babble, but Lamia seemed to understand and even accept it. Maybe she'd been a good teacher after all? She didn't have the chance to dwell on the thought, however, as her guest took her up on her offer of food, provoking an even bigger grin from Judith.

"Very well. Truth be told, I haven't eaten anything since this morning, so I'm a bit famished myself. I would welcome the nourishment. Wait right here. I'll have something ready in a jiffy!"

Walking over to her pantry, Judith rummaged through its contents, picking out her most exotic spices and setting them aside, as well a mix of vegetables and meats. A good stew was healthy and delicious, but a truly great stew needed a wide variety of flavours. Once she had selected her ingredients, the Hylian priestess retrieved a metal pot and placed it upon her stove. Then, taking her newfound Bottomless Bottle, Judith began to pour water into the pot. Strange that its first official use would be to facilitate cooking... Of course, "strange" was a relative term. This whole day had been nothing but. Well, she supposed it would be better to test the artifact out now than to wait until a later date, where the stakes could be much higher. Fortunately, to her immense relief, the magic container proved to be authentic, filling the much larger pot with ease. Humming to the tune of one of the Cult's religious hymns, Judith started to prepare each ingredient before adding it to the stew.

She soon lost track of time, stirring away at the pot, but it wasn't too long until she used a ladle to scoop up a small amount of the stew, popping it into her mouth. Satisfied by the taste, she decided it was done and emptied the pot into two wooden bowls, dividing the stew between them equally. Gathering up two pairs of utensils, Judith brought the bowls over to a nearby table and called to Lamia.

"Here you are! I've made some stew. I hope it's to your liking." Judith declared, rather proud of her dish. She grabbed a small plate and placed some berries she had plucked the previous day upon it as an appetizer, pushing it to the centre of the table for the two women to share before finally seating herself. "If it's not warm enough for you, feel free to use your magic to heat it up. Just.... be careful, alright?"

"I won't be using magic for a little while," Lamia assured her, "Worry not." She never used her magic right after it had put her out of commission. Too dangerous- her superiors had urgently recommended against it. She reached towards the berries, bringing a dark one to her mouth. She was still pondering her magic, but finally decided to set it aside and dug into the stew.

Unlike the Priestess of Nayru sitting across the table, Lamia had not been taught to be dignified and proper; she did have table manners, but they weren't rooted in her religion and were easily thrown out the window when she was as hungry as she was now. She had to get food inside of her system, and momentarily forgot where she was as she finally emptied the last of the stew out of the bowl. "That was delicious, Sister Vilcaron," she said, although she was hardly one to judge- exhausted and starved as she had been, anything had been delicious. "Thank you very much. Is there anything I can do for you in return?" The Order didn't believe in staying indebted to others.

Maybe she HAD invited a wolf into her midst. Judith had scarcely managed to consume a few spoonfuls by the time Lamia finished "wolfing" down her stew, stunned by the Gerudo's voracious appetite. She could understand the urgency of hunger, but by anyone's standard, her guest had devoured her meal with astonishing rapidity. Was it the result of some biological quirk? The Gerudo race were accustomed to the harsh deserts of the South... Perhaps the natural barrenness of their home environment had taught them, on some instinctive level, that every scrap of food was valuable. Even if Lamia had been raised in the North, the habit would remain.

However, when Lamia provided the Hylian priestess with the perfect opportunity to ask, insisting on repayment, Judith bit her tongue. Her curiosity would be the death of propriety, she was sure of it. Bothering a woman she had just met about her species would be beyond rude. Ignoring her gut reaction to bombard Lamia with questions concerning Gerudo culture and history, Judith instead waved her hands in protest of her guest's suggestion, her cheeks flushing.

"Oh, no, no! I cannot accept a reward for doing the work of my Goddess. So long as you promise to use your magic responsibly, you owe me nothing." She paused, then tilted her head. "But... if it isn't too much trouble, there is something I wish to know. When you passed out, the damage to the area around you was minimal. Somehow, you... you trapped the magic inside yourself. I've never seen anything like that. Most mages would not have the fortitude to contain that kind of energy for long. How did you do it?"

It had not occurred to Judith at the time, but in hindsight, Lamia's feat stood out like a sore thumb. She had seen experienced casters overexert themselves to the point of collapse, and even they tended to expel a large amount of arcane energy outward when they did so. In that regard, Lamia's ability to restrain her fire was nothing short of remarkable. Yet the girl was just a novice in the art of spellcraft, suggesting that something else was at play other than mere practice. A hidden technique, perhaps? If the Order of Din had gained an edge over the Cult of Nayru, it behooved Judith to uncover it and report it to her superiors.

"Ah, that is..." Lamia looked at her empty bowl and didn't finish her sentence, "Truth be told, it's much easier to execute than it is to explain. As you well know, fire is a destructive element, rather effortlessly capable of destroying a city block given time. Magic, on the other hand, could do so in a few seconds, and a magic-induced explosion like the Eruption causes... well. I'm sure I don't have to explain what damage that could cause." She had heard the technique compared to the destructive force of the Powder Keg, a bomb so powerful one required a specific license to wield one- and even then, one was only allowed to possess one at a time. She didn't know if it was that powerful. She hadn't dared try.

"I am well aware of this destructive force, as I am of my relative inability to keep it under control. However, I have no desire to let that power run rampant and do as it pleases." She folded her hands. "As such, my mind grabs hold of the spell for as far as I can still reach it, and I draw it back into my mind. There is a safety there- if overcharged, such as by an astray Eruption, it simply shuts itself off and I pass out. It's... dangerous, I know that, but I do not want to be responsible for the damage that would occur if I didn't do it."

"Ah!" Judith shot up from her chair after listening to Lamia's explanation, struck by a sudden bolt of inspired insight. A contingency spell... Of course! It was so simple. Why hadn't she thought of that?

"P-Please excuse me for just a minute!" Dashing over to her desk, Judith paid no heed to the Gerudo's reaction to her outburst in her haste to jot down her thoughts. Practically throwing herself onto the unoccupied seat, Judith grabbed her quill pen, dipped it in ink, and flipped open the tome she'd been reading before Lamia's arrival to the page she had last left off on. Seizing a loose scrap of paper, she scribbled madly away at it, then compared her notes to what was written in the book. An audible gasp escaped her lips; she could hardly believe what she was reading. This was precisely the missing link she'd been looking for!

For the past little while, Judith been working feverishly toward learning a new spell: An invocation that created a magic circle, which would then confer the benefits of any defensive spell cast inside it upon all who stood within. But while she had quickly gotten the hang of conjuring the circle itself, the question of how to have it manifest its proper effect had stumped her for days. Only now, with Lamia's fail-safe fresh in her mind, did Judith understand. If she wove an additional spell centered on herself into the incantation, she could use it as a catalyst to redistribute magical energies throughout the radius of the circle... Her previous attempts to do so had seen her try to handle it all with one spell. The idea of combining two to achieve the desired outcome had never occurred to her until Lamia had mentioned her precautionary method.

Momentarily at a loss for words, Judith slumped in her chair. To think that a priestess of Din could teach her something of magic! Was this the Archcanoness' plan all along? Ashamed, the Hylian acolyte turned to Lamia with a guilty expression plastered across her face.

"I... I owe you my thanks, and an apology."

Lamia was surprised to see Judith leap up and get to work, but decided to leave her to it. She knew better than to interrupt a mage doing research. Instead, she spent the time absent-mindedly putting the remaining berries into her mouth and chewing on them while she once again tried to call to mind the beast she had seen in her dream. It had been mammalian, she knew that for certain. No wings or scales or strange features other than that it was permanently on fire. But its exact shape, she couldn't recall fully. She supposed it didn't matter. Now a little rested and with plenty of food in her belly, she was much calmer. She didn't doubt she'd see it again sometime. She'd have to make sure to take note of its form then.

She looked up when Judith thanked her and apologised. Swallowing the last berry, the Gerudo raised an eyebrow. "An apology? Whatever for, Sister?"

"Well, first off, I must apologize for running off like that. I am very passionate about my magical studies, and I simply cannot rest on my laurels whenever I make headway in my research. You see, I've been trying to master a new spell recently, but I hit a mental roadblock. What you said just now gave me an idea, and while I cannot be certain that I've found the solution to my problem until I've tried it, your advice has given me a more promising lead than anything I have been able to come up with. So for that, I am indebted to you. Which brings me to my second point..." Swallowing her pride, Judith looked the Gerudo dead in the eyes. She felt it necessary to preface what she was going to say next with earnest gratitude, lest she cause an even greater degree of offense by addressing the elephant in the room directly.

"When I received my orders to instruct you in the art of magic, I... I had my doubts. We are of rival faiths, you and I. I thought that, as a priestess of Din, you might be brutish, uncouth, or... stupid." Barely managing to squeak out the last word, Judith hung her head. "But you are none of these things, of course, and I was wrong to entertain such preconceptions for even a moment. I am the only foolish one here. It would seem Mother Nayru teaches humility as well as Wisdom." Surely She would weep to see Her sister's followers mocked, Judith realized, overcome with remorse. "We might venerate different deities, but we both serve the will of the Golden Goddesses. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?"

Squirming in her seat, Judith awaited a harsh rebuke and the flames of Din's wrath.

Aha... so that was it. Lamia had been right to fear prejudice from this priestess, then. Part of her felt insulted. "Hardly a practice for a follower of the Goddess of Wisdom," she said, "to judge before one has all the facts." Then again, she supposed Judith was young- not that much older than her, she had assumed. Jumping to conclusions was an unfortunate side effect of their young age, and one that couldn't really be helped. "That said, it's a common misconception that Din teaches violence rather than discipline." A misconception further fed by her Gerudo heritage, she didn't doubt- a member of a long-standing warrior race, venerating the Goddess of Power, would easily be mistaken for a violent brute. She sighed. "You are forgiven, Sister."

She leaned back. "However, if you truly regret your prejudice and would like to learn what the Order is actually like, I may be able to arrange for you to visit one of our temples. We have a large one in Hyrule Castle Town, but it may be easier to get you into my own temple." After all, Latifa was bound to be grateful to Judith for helping her daughter. It would be a small favour.

As deserving as she was of ridicule, Judith became rather annoyed when Lamia started to rub it in. Had she not hidden her true feelings well, treating her guest with nothing but courtesy and hospitality? Anger on the Gerudo's part would have been understandable, but to taunt and lecture her about her own faith seemed a low blow when Judith had already admitted her fault. She wanted to snap back that, by her own logic, Lamia's lack of discipline hardly made her an ideal devotee of Din, but she held her tongue. And her invitation... What a cunning trap, forcing Judith to choose between being exposed to the Order's lies or looking like a stubborn ignoramus! She had underestimated the priestesses of Din. She would not do so again.

"That can wait." Judith said coldly, rising to a stand. "I've lost my appetite. When you have finished eating, please join me in the main hall. I will be praying at the altar." Gathering up her staff and tome, she moved to leave the room, continuing to speak without looking back. "I will not keep you from your duties long, but I cannot in good conscience turn you loose upon this world without training you further."

As she walked away, Judith reflected on what had just happened. The more she thought about it, the more vindicated she felt. She was not a betting woman by any means, but she would wager a fair sum that the same prejudices that had plagued her had also coloured Lamia's initial impressions; the only difference between them was that Judith had been brave enough to confess, making the Gerudo a hypocrite.

Lamia waited until Judith had left the room to raise an eyebrow in lack of understanding. Had it been her tone? She'd just been trying to offer a friendly manner of filling in the gaps the Cult had in their knowledge of the Order. And yet, somehow it had set something off in the other priestess, who had changed from apologetic to angry and almost denegrating. Turning her loose? Lamia supposed it could be seen as such. If she gave in to every insult she had to tolerate, however, this abbey wouldn't be standing anymore. "Stubborn," she muttered to herself, "And incapable of stomaching criticism." She stood up from the table, setting to gathering her belongings. "Just as you said, Mother."

It appeared both the Acolyte of Din and the Acolyte of Nayru had much left to learn.

*~The End~*
((For now))​