All across the flowered field, Pan can be heard. He dances across the emerald grounds, blowing at dandelions and singing a pirate shanty at the top of his lungs. The tone is off pitch, but it makes it that much more endearing as he shakes his rump to the beat which only he seems to hear. All around him, flowers bloom and autumn breezes blow. Curious birds swoop low to see what creature causes such a cacophony, and it seems that even they shake their heads as if to say “boys will be boys”, before flying back to their nests.
The scaled boy doesn’t care what others think of him, and it’s a good thing, because he looks rather ridiculous as he hums and gathers flowers into his satchel like a five year old girl. Little does he know that Fiona watches him, but he wouldn’t have minded either way. After all, Pan is an affable type. Harmless and fun-loving, he seems to bring out smiles in others (though certainly, the boy could be obnoxious as well). And, on this day where sunshine flirts with his scales, turning the world around them into a prism of silvered light, she would find the child.
Even though his raucous singing, Pan can hear the quiet approach of Dusk Court’s Champion of Community. Turning toward the quiet snap of hooves against the grass, his green eyes scour the grass for movement… but Fiona is still, and he has a hard time making out her form. Hello? Curiosity tinges Pan’s voice, and the question is quiet (which is unusual, for the boy is usually quite brazen). It’s okay… come on out… I won’t hurt you. His tone suggests that he wonders if it’s a baby animal or maybe a deer which watches him so quietly in the tall brush. Fishing into his bag, Pan draws forth a piece of apple which he’d picked freshly just hours before, rolling it toward the source of the sound, hoping all the while that his offering would be met by kindness.
Fiona had gone to Susurro Fields that morning to draw, something that she had not done in a long time. So much had happened in recent months, recent weeks, that her habit, her little pleasures, had been pushed aside. It was still difficult for her to flip through the pages of a sketchbook that was not worn at the edges, broken in at the spine. It was difficult for her to flip through the pages of this sketchbook, because it was new. But it was new because all her others had burned, not because she had simply filled the pages of a previous one.
Still, she felt some comfort in this tradition, of coming to draw the sky and the fields and treeline behind. To listen to the symphony of the birds and the breeze and the scratch of her pencil across the paper. The sketch started to take shape when she heard a sound. A voice, she thought, as she listened more closely. Curious, Fiona closed the book and stood, pressing through the tall grasses toward what she could only imagine was supposed to be singing. It did not take her long to find the source: a boy, it seemed, frolicking through the field and merrily crooning at the top of his lungs.
As she stepped, a twig snapped under her hoof and she paused, feeling sheepish when the boy stopped. When he turned and held out an apple in her general direction, gently speaking about not being any harm to her, a chuckle might have escaped her if it could. He must not have been able to see her, and she decided she would save him the trouble of thinking her a woodland creature by stepping out into the open. She smiled at him as she did so, and then thought of her book. Normally it was how she introduced herself, but she was hesitant.
She had never seen this boy before, and she did not think he was from Terrastella; was he an orphan? Would he even be able to read her scrawling script? She supposed there was only one way to find out, but if so, the lavender woman wasn’t sure how she would proceed. She’d never had to consider such a thing before, as most of who she used her book to communicate with were adults of the court; other champions or members of the regime. So, what did she do about this boy, who sang so happily and danced through the field?
As Pan peers into the lush underbrush, he can just begin to make out Fiona’s form. He steps closer, and so does she, until they stand face to face. The initial shock at seeing another equine is quickly replaced by an easy smile, as he nods to her in greeting. She was a beautiful creature – pale purple and cream like the sunrise, and she had a kindness to her eyes that invited Pan in. Hello, he repeats again, I’m Pan, what’s your name? Little does he know that Fiona cannot answer, but Pan was never one to be shy. Instead, he simply waits for a bit in awkward silence for the answer that would not come.
Distracted, the boy reaches into his satchel to draw out a bushel of wildflowers for his new friend, thrusting it toward her. Sunny black-eyed-susans seem to perk up when he brings them back into the air, and he lays them at her feet in a curious sort of offering. Perhaps she would appreciate the plants more than the apple (two of Pan’s most favorite things). It is then that his eyes fall onto her sketchbook, tucked against her like a prized possession.
Is that… is that a book? Reaching back into his satchel, the scaled boy wrestles a rather thick, leather bound tome from his bag. He hefts it out with a clatter (for the other items in his bag make quite a noise), and spreads it lovingly onto the grass, flipping through the pages to show Fiona. I have one too… this one’s about plants. It shows you which ones are poisionous, which ones are good for healing. I’m collecting them all. As if illustrating his point, Pan comes even closer to Fiona and creates an opening so she can see inside his satchel. There, scattered among his baubles are various types of plants, tied with crude rope in bushels, some dried and some clearly freshly picked.
I have more too, in my cave… but… he hesitates, drawing a breath to steady himself. But I can’t go back there… not right now.
The boy introduced himself and Fiona could only smile every softer for it. He was so sweet and kind, and full of smiles and youthfulness. Ah, she remembered being young, having the whole world at your fingertips. Feeling like you could do and be anything you wanted to be. She saw all of that in this young man, a whole world of possibilities, and yet she felt a measure of worldliness in him as well, as if he had seen and done much already in his life. Curious, she thought.
Moments stretched between them, silent, until Pan's attention wandered. From out of his satchel he pulled a small bouquet of black eyed susans and laid them at her feet. Fiona's eyes sparkled as she grasped them gently. For a moment her lilac eyes were concentrated on the flowers as she twisted and wove the malleable stems. After a short few minutes she displayed a small necklace fashioned of the yellow blooms, and draped it carefully about Pan's neck. Then, taking one she had saved, tucked it among her lavender braid, smiling.
It was then that he noticed her book, where she held it against her side. His excitement was almost palpable, contagious, as he once more returned to his goodies and pulled yet another gem from the satchel's depths. His tome was large and no doubt quite heavy, for as he flipped through it her gaze took in all the information it carried. Oh, if all the knowledge she'd once stored in her journals could have been condensed to a single volume, the book would have been as big around as the youth at her side.
Fiona set her own book down on the grass in front of them, pulling the pencil out from where it was tucked between two pages. More confident, then, she began to write. It's a pleasure to meet you, Pan. A pause, her gaze lifting to the boy and then, My name is Fiona. This is my journal, I use it to communicate with others, like you! She smiled a little wider, then, a little warmer. Her heart felt soothed by this boy and his countenance, carefree and bubbly. His antics made it easier to forget the troubling truths she'd been facing as of late. At least for the time being.
Ah, but then the moment shifted and it was tangible, how his breathing shuddered and he needed to steady himself against whatever own truths he was trying to leave behind. She frowned a moment, concern coloring her gaze as it watched him. What darkness had he been forced to experience, that made him so afraid to return home? Fiona turned back to the pages of her book and wrote again, I can't go back to my house either, and it was a pang in her heart all over again, a blade buried to the hilt.
She did not want to focus on sad things, however. Far more important to her was finding a way to make Pan feel more comfortable. To take the haunted shadow out of his eyes, to bring back the sun in the skies that had him singing and dancing such a short time ago. But you can stay here in Terrastella as long as you need to. I am a healer, I could teach you more about plants and what they can do, if you'd like. She could only hope that her small offering was enough.
The boy relished in her company, happy to be among the flowers that shone happily from his neck. They reminded him of sunshine, of happier days when his mind wasn’t troubled by the horrors he’d witnessed in Delumine. They reminded Pan of his childhood, carefree and without a mind for consequence (though these memories were only now beginning to return to him). He tipped his head to nibble at the blossoms, offering her a boyish grin as she tucks one into her mane, and nodding with approval. Flowers deserved to be shared, and as he flipped through his book to point out more, he found himself very comfortable filling the silence in her company.
As she writes in a looping scroll across the page, he watches in fascination as the pen blots into words. Warmth rises in his chest as he reads the words, taking pleasure once again in the fact that he had learned to read. It was the one kindness that Tarquin had offered him, teaching him to read… and Pan was a voracious reader these days, pouring over books long into the night by candlelight. Fiona! he exclaimed, offering her a grin once more. It’s nice to meet you.
She picks up on the worry in his voice, and her own words are reassuring as he wonders of the meaning behind them. Perhaps Terrestella was his new Neverland, the home for those who were lost, for those without a home. He liked the thought of it, and liked even more the warmth that all had offered him since arriving to this place. I like it here. he said simply. Asterion said I can stay as long as I want, and I think I should like to stay a while… at least until it’s safe to go home again. Who knew how long that would be.
But when she offers to train him for healing, Pan immediately perks up, forgetting about his sadness and the other issues which plague him. Would you teach me? I’m happy to gather plants for you, or to share the ones I have… but I want to know as much as I can. I want to be the best healer there is, and I promise I’ll study hard. When can we start? Eagerness shines from his seafoam eyes, as he shifts his focus entirely onto the task at hand, determined to become a skilled healer no matter how long it took.
You will be safe here, Fiona wrote in the book, feeling more certain of it than she had felt of most things lately. Ever since the waters had abated things had been quite calm in Terrastella as they healed and rebuilt. The healing of the land would take longer, of course, but it would too, on time. Plus, wait until you see it in the spring! whether or not Pan was still here by that point, she had a feeling he might be back, the meadow is full of color, and the animals! Oh, there was so much to study here.
The boy's response to her offer brings a smile to her face. She might have laughed, if she could have, for his excitement was boundless. He spoke quickly, and his eyes shone more brightly than even the sun. I'm sure you will become a wonderful healer, you have such kindness in you. That is what makes a good healer. Her words curled across the page with more life than they'd had in weeks, delicate and attentive. His eagerness to learn reminded her of when she had been a girl, soaking up all the things her father had taught her with hunger.
How about now? I'll show you my favorite. Fiona gently closed the journal and lifted her head, looking out over the fields. She was glad she had not seen them flooded, for everything within to be buried beneath the water. But, the fields were a wet place for most of the year and now was not so different. The lavender woman gestured for Pan to follow her, needing no words for that. As she walked, her eyes searched for the plant she was looking for. It thrived until mid-autumn so she was sure they would find it now. Then her eyes fell upon a cluster of the plant, and, drawing closer settled into the grass around it. She waited for Pan to join her before opening her book to write.
This is called Redshank. She plucked a pink flowered stem and offered it to Pan so that he could study its appearance. It had a rather weak stem, with alternating lance-shaped leaves with a dark spot in their centers that eventually became a terminal spike of many small pink blooms. You can create a poultice from it, which can be used for pain and to keep flies at bay. Her ear flicked, and she looked at the boy for a moment feeling bittersweet. She could have shown him all her studies of this plant in her books, but she had to admit she enjoyed this, too.
If you make a tea of it, it can be used as a wash for joint pain, inflammation, stomachaches and sore throats. It grows from mid-summer to about this time of year. She smiled, setting down the pencil so that he could more easily read her words. It was a plan with many uses in medicine, though very commonly viewed as a weed. It reminded her that in life, some things were more than they seemed.
The boy grew more excited by the minute, pleasure crossing his face as he imagines Terrestella in the spring. Spring had always been his favorite time of year, when the world was being born again and the green began to replace winter snows. Even now, the late autumn breezes stung at his coat and he shivered, hopeful for the warmth that would follow the coming months and eager to see the land as Fiona described it. He is briefly distracted by wondering what sort of animals might call the Dusk Court home, his imagination bringing to mind fierce dragons along with woodland creatures, but the thoughts are quickly erased as she begins to discuss healing with him. For this is where his current focus and passions were strongest.
He nods eagerly as she offers to start showing him now, following up the nods with an enthusiastic Okay! as he settles into an easy pace beside her, watching as she carefully tucks her book away, his own thick tome shifting into Oliver as the boy begins to walk. The otter squeaks a bit indignantly at having his space taken up by the book, escaping from the bag to make his way to Pan’s withers, draping himself like a scarf around the boy’s neck. Dancing a bit to keep up with her, the boy eagerly sniffs about and takes in the flora that she describes.
Redshank. The first plant she shows him is beautiful and fragile, and he observes the delicate petals with all the careful attention of a historian restoring a priceless sort of painting. Drawing out a piece of cloth from his bag, he tucks the bloom within its folds, adding a few more sprigs for good measure and rolling the filament carefully about them to protect it as he tucks it into his satchel for safekeeping.
What happens if you need it when it’s not growing? If I collect some now, will it stay good as a dried herb? He assumed that fresh plants were better, but with winter coming, the redshank would fade just as the rest of Novus’ flowering plants. Indeed, with war on the brink and winter fast approaching, they would find a need for plants now more than ever… and they needed a good way to preserve the bounty for relevant use throughout the seasons.
Making a note to document the find in his tome, Pan turned back to Fiona with an eager brightness in his eyes, wanting to learn all she had to teach him. I hear there is a hospital here in Terrestella. Do you think they would let me help there, even if I don’t truly belong here in the Dusk Court?
Pan's attentiveness brought a smile to Fiona's face as she wrote. She watched as he carefully took a few stalks of the plant and tucked it into his bag for safe keeping. It reminded her of all the flowers she'd pressed into her books in the past. She loved nothing more than flipping through her journals and having spring right there at her fingers, always able to cheer her up.
Perhaps that was what her newest books were missing. She hadn't ventures too much outside the court recently, hadn't gone searching for new plants the way she used to always do with her father, and the way she'd continued to do even after his passing. The pages of her journal now were plain, undecorated. Not filled with the joy or love she so readily would have poured into them in the past.
The dried leaves are perfect for teas, so those can be made any time of year, even outside of the growth season, she wrote in response to the boy's question. Then, a thought came to her. In her years cooking and baking, she had rehydrated dried herbs more than once to enhance their flavor, so the same could no doubt be done for a plant intended for medical purposes. Perhaps if you soaked the dried plant in some water for a few minutes, it could be revived enough for the other purposes as well.
At her home she'd had a small green house for such things. All manner of useful plants had filled it, and she'd cared for them dutifully so that they'd been available to any who needed them all year round. Perhaps Fiona thought, she'd need to start a new one. Perhaps it was time.
We have the largest hospital in all the courts, Fiona wrote, smiling again. The hospital was truly a feat and a marvel. Why don't I take you there? I'm sure they would take all the help they can get. And I can show you some more plants on the way. Fiona stood and looked down at Pan, waiting for his decision. She'd carefully close her journal and hold it and her pen at her side, nearby for when she would need it. And with the boy's agreement, Fiona would move north, toward the swamp, prepared to show Pan more on this little journey they would undertake together.
