Session 3: Willow Fairburn

[Mr. Blackbird Lore]

The office Willow Fairburn stepped into was one she had ignored as "just another door." Today, that would change. She raised a hand to knock, and was startled by a voice behind her. "Please go in, Miss Fairburn." Beside her stood Safeholme's one and only: Lady Sumedha, Student Guidance Counselor. Today, she had taken a classical approach to intimidating students and faculty alike. Her blouse was white, her skirt and pumps were black. Swept bangs perfectly framed the left side of her face, and the rest of her locks were perfectly bound in a bun. Red-rimmed glasses added a flash of color, and drew others to her steely gaze, dark and knowledgeable eyes consuming everything before them.

Music played softly as Willow opened the door and crossed the threshold. When able, Lady stepped past her and proceeded toward her desk.

The office was impressive and obviously curated to produce that effect. The desk was heavy, dark, and ornate. Its surface was tidy: only a closed laptop, a single stack of collated papers, a lamp, and a photo frame facing away from her. The chair was likewise dark and ornate- and leatherbound. The wall beyond these things was three floor-to-ceiling shelves. The overwhelming majority were occupied by the kinds of books one assumed were more for posturing and posterity than reading. On the central column of shelves, on the middle shelf, were three objects: a metallic, silver globe of some kind that could fit into Willow's hand comfortably; a silver-framed, oval mirror about the size of a person's face; and a gilded knife in a bejeweled sheath resting upon a smartly lacquered wood display piece. Between the desk and the door were two matching couches, a coffee table between them, and a plush fabric chair, facing toward the desk.

Lady took up position behind her chair, pristinely manicured hands resting on its head. "Please make yourself comfortable, Miss Fairburn, and we'll begin."

[Straken]

Taking a few appreciative moments to look around the office, Willow noted it was indeed a nice looking office. That's exactly why she suddenly felt skittish as a pit formed in her stomach. Every school had one of these rooms, and Willow had seen every one of them in every school she'd attended for one reason or another. Making an audible gulp, the teen needed to consciously keep herself from nervously wringing her hands as she began wondering what exactly she'd been called here to explain. After steadying her breathing while looking at the odd items arrayed on one of the shelves, she took a seat in the chair.

The seat was comfortable, and Willow went into her prim and proper mode that she'd picked up at St. Bernadette's; legs together and tilted to the right side of the body, hands in her lap with the right resting on top of the left, back straight and kept an inch away from the back of the seat, chin down slightly in deference, and eyes forward and attentive. All the while her mind was still racing trying to figure out what story she might need to tell, how perceptive Miss Sumedha might be to Willow's tells if she needed to lie, and why in the world there was indie music playing right now.

Opening her mouth to speak, Willow immediately caught herself before making a joke about this being a test to see if she was the reincarnated Buddha. Safeholme had sapped some of her discipline it seemed. One of the Sisters back in England would probably have already been raising a ruler.

"Your office is lovely, ma'am," a steady and practiced voice spoke. It was slightly cadenced, and her accent sounded lovely speaking it; but it lacked any of Willow's usual cheerfulness.

[Mr. Blackbird Lore]

As soon as Willow spoke, the music faded to silence. While Willow pondered how, Lady considered her approach. It was a brief consideration; she'd interacted with students like Willow before. They were some of her favorite cases.

"As you may already know, I am Dr. Lady Sumedha, the Student Guidance Counselor. I consider this position one of utmost gravity, as it is my job to aid students in discovering the best path forward. In few other schools is this position as vital as it is here at Safeholme, where so many diverse backgrounds and skillsets converge.

"So tell me, Miss Fairburn, what do you see in your future? What do you want in your future? And, given the chance, how would you amend the past?" She raised a finger to interrupt the ferromancer's thoughts. "And I insist you be forthright. No nonsense. This is not St. Bernadette's, I am not a nun, and you are not being punished. By one perspective, this meeting is being held for an entirely contrary reason." She did not elaborate on what that reason might be.

Dr. Sumedha could almost see the gears behind Willow's eyes as she sought an appropriately meek response. Those thoughts suddenly seemed so dull and dishonest as Willow's dreams and aspirations of magehood percolated to the surface of her mind. The muscles holding her rigid posture would slacken ever so slightly, like newly formed cracks in a façade.

[Straken]

The edges of her mouth tensed up as Willow began to quickly think over these questions. She hadn't been expecting this to be a career counseling session. With her eyes drifting towards the floor in thought she was almost more worried now than she was when she thought she was in trouble. After all, Willow knew she had always been more inclined to live in the moment rather than worrying about the future, or dwelling on the past. Back in England her parents had been the driving force behind her projected career path, and even her attendance here at Safeholme was approved because her mundane parents bought the story that it would reflect well on her college applications. She almost didn't notice her back begin to lean against the chair, but the sensation brought her back to the moment.

"Addressing the easiest matter first," Willow was once again holding her posture, but her eyes and voice were her own, "I would not amend the past. I've never liked to dwell on what-ifs, and besides, the choices I've made have brought me here. Well, not like here here, but Safeholme here."

Willow tensed her jaw slightly. Removing one of the questions let her focus on the other two, which were more or less the same question. Was she overthinking this? Miss Sumedha did say this wasn't St. Bernadette's. It was just Willow's conditioning that was telling her she needed to have a prepared twelve-step plan on getting into college so she could go work with her mom at the museum. Being honest, however, would require her to do something that made her uncomfortable.

"I," she started, but paused. "I don't know, ma'am. I'm sorry. About the future part."

[Mr. Blackbird Lore]

Lady smoothly repositioned her chair so she could take a seat. CEO hands politely gripped one another and rested upon the desk. A knowing, friendly smile lifted her lips. "Then let's discover it together, shall we? You came from Folkestone, England at the behest of a Druid Circle to be apprenticed by a renowned Druid instructor and practician, Mr. Ruarc Flynn. Before you could truly commit to this, however, your knack for ferromancy surfaced and has since preoccupied your training plan. Do you desire mastery of ferromancy, the green arts, or both?"

Discovery sessions were a great joy to the powerful psychic. They rarely required use of her gifts, if any at all, and it was a satisfying feeling to guide a mage to their potential via mundane means.

[Straken]

"I... would have liked to of been a Druid," Willow began hesitantly, unable to keep herself from nervously wringing her hands now. The question made her visibly shrink. "But I think I failed from the get go."

Laughing uncomfortably, Willow thought back to the discovery of her powers, and the realization that as a ferromancer she lacked any innate mana pool. Discussions following hadn't given the young girl much hope. "I'll never be able to use magic. Well, magic magic. Mr. Flynn and Drysi magic. I can't study incantations and I can't use runes. I... don't think I'd be a very good Druid. But hey, I've only known that was a thing for a number of months, so I'm not particularly blue about it."

Willow's smile was bitter.

[Mr. Blackbird Lore]

Lady's brows furrowed. Only slightly, of course-- lest she invite wrinkles. "Willow." The counselor waited for the young girl's eyes to meet hers. "The first step to being good at something, is to be bad at it. And," she held up a finger, "You were supposed to be honest with me." A little guilt crept into Willow's conscience at that. There was no reason to bury the truth was there?

"Let's unpack what you've said, as there are a lot of presumptions and self-deprecating comments that are very unproductive to your future. Stand up please." She gestured with one hand for the student to rise, and Willow obeyed slowly, but without hesitation. Dr. Sumedha reclined, though even in a position of comfort she retained a powerful air of command. With her left hand, she gestured to the blank wall on her left-- Willow's right. Only, it was no longer blank. At least, it wasn't empty.

A whiteboard spanned its entirety, blank and ready for use. "Take these."

In the counselor's outstretched hand was a blue marker and eraser for the board. "You're a very hands-on learner, and so we're going to learn at your pace. Create five columns for me: What I Want, What I Need, Druid, Allomancer, and The Mists." She gave pause while Willow wrote, until she started 'The Mists.' "Are you familiar with this phrase? The Mists? I assume not, but as you've reminded us both: assumptions are quite dangerous."

[Straken]

Taking a deep breath, Willow repeated what Lady had said earlier. This wasn't St Bernadettes, and Lady wasn't a nun. Her parents weren't here. The only thing keeping her down right now was her own conditioning. She just couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling offices like this caused. So instead she'd try and focus on the task presented to her. Plucking the cap off of the marker she began to strike lines across the white board to create the columns, and then with smooth and flowing lines began to write. Her handwriting slanted to the right, the tails of the letters looped along into the following letters without becoming cursive, and she crossed her T's after the words were written. Her handwriting was well formed from her time in boarding school, but the Brit let a bit of resistance show as she went back and dotted her I's with crisp chevrons.

Stepping back to look at the board and consider the columns. The first two were standard counselor faire and were the usual vague thought exercises that fatigued Willow; she wanted some curry and needed a haircut, but those answers would likely not satisfy the spirit of the assignment. The next two might end up being a pro and con list of the two schools of magic currently in her wheelhouse. The last one... Lady spoke again.

"Like, the Stephen King novel? Oh, nah, that's not plural," Willow made a slight quip. "Aside from it being fog, nah, never heard it spoken as a phrase."

[Mr. Blackbird Lore]

“The Mists of the Future. It is a phrase common among diviners. It refers to the murk of our destinies, the obfuscation that plagues all seers. And, naturally, those of us who cannot see the future.

“But I want to start with the present. What do you want? Let’s break that down: what do you want right now?” Then, after noting Willow’s hesitation, she added. “Are you hungry? Do you want to leave this office and never come back? Write it down. Be honest.”

Any time Lady sensed hesitation, she coaxed the English girl to answer. “There are no wrong answers. So, stop trying to find the ‘right’ ones.”

[Straken]

"Never heard it," Willow said after a few moments thinking it over. "Is that the Where Do I See Myself In Five Years column?"

Twirling the marker in her fingers, Willow contemplated the columns. With the additional spurring from Sumedha the column seemed a little more approachable, but Willow was unsure how useful some of the stuff would be in a counseling session. Clicking her tongue in punctuation for the thought, the teen began writing. Deciphering everything was Lady's problem. Stepping forward again, Willow began filling out the columns.

What I Want

Some English curry with a side of chips
Go for a jog
Go camping
Practice with metals

What I Need

A haircut
New running shoes
A better understanding of metallurgy
Some college pamphlets

Druid

Fascinating
My introduction to magic
Not the best fit?
Different school of magic

Allomancer

New
Unique
Sense of exploration
Expensive
I'm eating toxic metal
I need (ope, wrong column) to practice a lot more

The Mists

I don't know about the magic community
Is there magic college?
The future freaks me out
Playing sports might be fun

Recapping the marker, Willow stepped back and gave Miss Sumedha an inquisitive look, but kept the marker in her hand in case she needed to redo the Mists column.