[Percival's Lair] There Came a Soft Rustling

[Mr. Blackbird Lore]

Tanuki contemplated this latest news and looked out to the woods. At first glance, she had thought it was merely glow bugs in the trees. But as the little avatar emerged, she became curious and alert. "Professor..." She pointed. "Who is that?"

The instinct to be quiet-- to activate her wards, the instructors had told her-- lit up. There was a primal element to those eyes and it triggered very primal instincts in the young Tanuki. It made her nervous, and put all her attention toward it.

[Kokuten]

As Tanuki tunneled her focus on the wildling, it did the same to her. The frizzy, unkempt mane seemed to rise a bit, and strained lines under the feral eyes showed the bared teeth hidden by the mask. It put one of its small, booted feet forward, and in the trail behind it came a flourishing bed of undergrowth and flowers. Tanuki could see that fertile herbs and plants marked the wildling's path from the treeline.

A hand settled on the student's shoulder, and the wildling stopped.

"That," Mr. Caxton spoke with a firm, soft gravitas, "is what remains of the Goddess of Healing and Harvest. Modeka, the Grain Child, daughter of Demeter. Don't look her in the eyes."

Modeka seemed to respond to the sound of her name, and some sense of intelligence returned to her eyes. Percival stepped off the porch to alleviate some of the tension, "She's here earlier than normal, likely heard us talking."

The wildling approached the Professor with familiarity, her recent intelligence lost in a drowsy daze. She held up her arms.

"Tired?"

She nodded. Percival scooped her up in one arm and she rested her face in his shoulder. His opposite, armless shoulder began to glow with a restrained light. At that, he turned back, carrying the wildling, giving his student an apologetic look. "I'm afraid that will have to be the most of it for tonight, Tanuki."

[Mr. Blackbird Lore]

Tanuki was so fixated she jumped at the professor's touch, and suppressed the urge to flee. "Goddess?" She murmured, and stared up at him with disbelief and awe. Who ARE these people!? she wondered. "I don't understand..." But before she could structure a question, Percival stepped away to retrieve the small avatar. Tanuki got the hint it was time to go. "Okay, okay, but one last question I promise. How do-- like, why would gods..." She fumbled her attempt to reorganize her questions into one and ended up immediately breaking her promise. "How do you know gods and why is she so small?"

[Kokuten]

For Percival, it was hard for him to deny a gaze that looked so earnest for knowledge. Tanuki stared at him in a way that brought some of his more eager students to mind. Sure, she was probably caught more on the grandiose details, but it didn’t change the fact that the fire was there in her eyes. The Alchemist looked down at Modeka, who was already fast asleep in his arm, curling her head in more against the glare of the lamp.

He sighed, figuring that, at the very least, the lecture would help put Tanuki to sleep.

“If you want to know, you’ve got to know the whole story,” smiled Percival as he eased himself down gently on the deck, resting the godling on his lap while she snoozed. “There's was an old legacy, and you have to know where they came from to appreciate how far they've fallen. Now… Let me see if I can remember the tale…”

Percival took a gentle breath.

In the olden years of civilization, mages sought safe haven from persecution by a fearful world. To guard themselves, and their knowledge, they crafted a platform which could architect a verdant realm. This platform, made of limestone, created the land of the Elementalia Magicus. A realm rich with magic, and filled with prosperity. Yet, not even the mages trusted themselves with it, and the sculptors of the platform sought ways of preserving order in not only themselves, but the elements of the land. A place filled with magic was bound to be unstable without control. This creation needed something to channel the energy provided by a font to stabilize it, and preserve its order. They needed Guardians.

So, the elder mages sought souls of great power to bind to their new home, and searched all over, even searching into the heavens to bind defenders to their realm.

The first was the son of Hannibal, Aurus, the Blood Child, who bound the arts of destruction and calmed hatred.

The second and third were the daughters of the Lady of the Lake, Zulan, the Puddle Child, and Tulan, the Day Child. The puddle, tasked with binding the arts of creation and tempering justice. The day, bound the mystic sciences and dangerous curiosities.

The fourth was the daughter of Demeter, Modeka, the Grain Child, tasked with monitoring the balance and to nurture the fruits of magic.

The fifth was the son of Gabriel, Akanus, the Cloud Child, binder of the arts that moved space, and the eye of the guardians.

The sixth was the son of Loki, Decanus, the Shade Child, binder of the arts that tore space, and the free agent of the pantheon.

These six guardians were risen from nature and death to defend the Elementalia Magicus, and they did as they were bound. They nurtured the magic, developing life among life, even around the safe mages. When the mages died, and their font was robbed of his body, the guardians gathered magic from new visitors to the land from worship. This gave rise to the modern understanding of the Elementalia Magicus, and reflected what people see in it today as a mage's 'playground'. As long as the Mages their paid their respect, they could test whichever and whatever magicks they wished.

The Guardians became Gods, and were respected as such, and the land knew prosperity. Yet the 'Gods' were as was said, people of great power, they suffered tragedy at the hubris of a single ma--... a monster, and the Puddle Child's despair was enough to banish every human from the Magicus. Without magic, the Gods were left with a crumbling land, and no source of magic to preserve themselves. So they entered into a sleep, and had the land join them save for the Blood Child, who was... who... who was ever vigilant.

The Land of Dreams and Mist knew 257 years of prosperity under its Gods, and a century and a half of slumber after that.

"And then," said the Professor, breaking from his doleful trance, "on March 3rd, 2011, I found the key-staff to the God's power and their realm, Unity, and became the 37th Font of the Elementalia Magicus. I was your age, roughly, when I found it; and it was a tremendous responsibility. But..."

Modeka began to become restless as her dreams began to sour, and Percival smiled sadly at her, "By the time the Gods of the Elementalia Magicus came to me, they were already sick, and, over a decade, they slowly changed from my mentors and comrades into monsters."

Percival brought his hand up to pat Modeka's leaf-riddled hair, "And... recently, the Menagerie was forced to enter the Elementalia and defeat the monsters they had become, and I was left with the reins to the realm. Now, I try to tend to the Gods in their new forms, and give them a chance to start anew."

[Mr. Blackbird Lore]

Tanuki did not drowse. She did not lose focus. Professor Caxton had her rapt attention from start to finish. It was like a fairytale, but there were so many reasons to believe this one. She soaked up all the names and the story of the Elementalia Magicus. The alchemist's hesitation toward the end, though, sparked fresh questions and he could see her brows furrowing as she pondered them and fought desperately to keep them silent. It wasn't her turn yet.

When he fell silent, her questions came out in a slurry of harsh whispers. "Professor, that doesn't make any sense! How can a... a... professor take care of gods! They're not cows! You can't just feed them and water them and call it a day!" Her back straightened as a fresh idea struck her. "What do you even feed a god? Do you feed them?" She glanced at Modeka to make sure all her whispering hadn't awoken the god-child-beast-thing, then looked at the alchemist expectantly.

[Kokuten]

“I…”

Professor Caxton was at a loss, no one had ever cared this much before. The students mostly brushed off his history lessons, and his peers had either lived it or didn’t especially care. Percival tried to gather himself, beginning to blush, being so taken aback by her too-genuine interest.

The god-child-beast-thing stirred to move and lay more comfortably in Percival’s lap. She only gave Tanuki a weary, drowsy glance before falling straight away to sleep again. Pinned, the Alchemist sighed, and began to gently stroke Modeka’s hair, picking out the occasional twig and leaf.

“They don’t eat in the traditional sense. Gods need the adoration or mana of others. Few entities of that level are self-sufficient like I am,” Percival spoke plainly, looking upon the creature in his lap sadly, “When they were… pacified… I molded the Gods into Godlings. Godlings aren’t so dependent, and can easily draw power from something more potent than themselves. They live here on the grounds like spirits, drawing from the natural ley-lines, the emotions of others and my own well of power.”

The Alchemist raised a finger, counting them, “The gate guardian is Aurus, actually, and he feeds on the fear and excitement of students as they come and go from school. Tulan rests in the fountain at the front of the school, and feeds upon the curiosity of students who ask her questions. Zulan waits in the fountain at the dorms, feeding upon the worries and anxiety of students who seek her council. Akanus and Decanus are dormant; Akanus watches over the Gunslinger of Osaka and her ranch, while Decanus supposedly haunts the shadows in Kyoto for my sister.”

[Mr. Blackbird Lore]

"That's..." Tanuki cocked her head. "That's the most sensible thing you've said all day." She slid off the railing and climbed up the nearest support beam for the balcony's overhang so she could peer down at the sleeping godling. "So... If I talk to them every day, they'll get better? And what about her?" She pointed. "You didn't say what she eats, er whatever."

[Kokuten]

Mr. Caxton blinked, realizing that he had unconsciously skipped over the godling in his lap.

"Modeka? She..."

She made a noise, and the haunting figure of Aurus turned, glowing eyes upon her. The feeling of slumber washed over his mind, and Percival suddenly understood.

“Modeka.”

“Ah,” she uttered a little louder. The Fire God began to approach with his blade in hand.

“Modeka,” repeated Percival, slapping his palm to the barrier. "Modeka, stop this."

“Ah,” she said with more of a pained smile. He became desperate.

“Modeka!”

Aurus loomed over the bent form of the Healing Goddess. The Alchemist repeated her name, helplessly, he kept repeating her name in some vain hope it would do something. She hadn’t the strength to summon a word to put them to sleep, but the warrior above her was not particular to risk. Percival begged him to accept it.

Against the growing protests of the Font, Aurus drove his blade through Modeka’s back, silencing her.

“... She…” Percival’s mouth moved to make the words as to why she was the way she was, how to explain why she wasn’t like the others.

The warrior in blackened armor stood within a pile of dead bodies, with a mangled form held by its head in one of his clawed gauntlets. When they got closer, he tossed it to the ground, revealing a dead, twisted reflection of Modeka. He had crumpled it in his hand, and they only had moments to see the ravaged corpse before it burnt away like the rest of the shades.

He stared into the dark void nestled in the treeline, looking lost in thought, but feeling attacked by a trauma he realized he had not addressed. Before he could give it a voice, he felt a pair of small hands on his. The godling pulled his hand to her chest like a stuffed bear.

“Modeka..." Percival spoke gently, trying to clean up his version of the story for Tanuki's sake, "She was responsible for everyone. When the realm was at its sickest, she was the last to fall. She held the plane of the Elementalia together long enough for the Menagerie to do what they needed to, and in return she didn’t come to Safeholme whole like the others. She doesn’t remember who she was, and she may never truly recover. So, she wanders the Wilderwood, day in and day out."

He squeezed her hand, gently.

"There’s no way to know what will help her until her mind heals.”