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Medeia: Alright. That should do it for now. So, Cel. Anything you want to ask of me? You have been staring quite intently, after all.
Paracelsus: Oh, sorry. No need to worry about it. My curiosity is fully unrelated to the recipe you’re prepping. You don’t need to worry about something so inconsequential.
Medeia: Well, I think even the silliest and most inconsequential of curiosities deserves to be listened to. Besides, I am imposing on your house quite a bit as is. I might as well entertain you a bit. What is it?
Paracelsus: To say the truth, the way you, Damian and Tul all talk to each other… I’m a bit curious about the recurrent names. Did you all work together or something?
Medeia: Hum, pretty much. Besides me, Tul and Damian, there were four other main members of our merry group. Do you want to know more about any of them? I don’t mind gossiping about them with you.
Paracelsus: Calling it gossip with such a bold face. You’re truly shameless.
Medeia: Shame is lost somewhere in your 20s. Enjoy the fact you still have it for another couple years.
Paracelsus: Sure. Not like I have much left anyway. (But I do wanna take her up on her offer. Let’s see, who should I ask about first…)
>Option Select: Barghest
Paracelsus: About Barghest… that is a nickname, right?
Medeia: Hum? No. She was an actual, genuine Barghest. We domesticated her and she proceeded to help us with our battles. That is all.
Paracelsus: … you domesticated. A full blown Barghest.
Medeia: Yup. Pretty much.
Paracelsus: Bullshit!!! That’s a rhinoceros-sized beast dog! That shoots LIGHTNING! How do you tame that!?
Medeia: Fufufu… years of canine experience, my humble student.
Paracelsus: Those skills should NOT be transferable!
Medeia: And yet, they were. It’s not like it matters, one way or another. After we escaped that world, she was the one member we never found again.
Paracelsus: I see. Is that okay?
Medeia: Well, one Barghest more or less won’t make that big a difference to the world. Probably.
Medeia: I just hope that, wherever she is, she’s feeling the wide breeze caress her face. As free as she can be.
—
>Option Select: Marylin
Medeia: Is that necessary? You already listen to her covers, don’t you?
Paracelsus: Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I know her. I want to learn more about her from someone other than Damian.
Medeia: Fair enough. Marylin is- was, to use a more appropriate verb tense, a self-thaught magician. She used her magic in order to conjure a permanently active glamour as well as by reinforcing her sound output for offensive purposes.
Paracelsus: … That is a dangerous combination.
Medeia: It is. You know that very well. She was very jumpy and aggressive back then, as you may expect. I’m glad that she managed to stabilize herself.
Paracelsus: She didn’t leave a good first impression on you, did she?
Medeia: Spot on. I regret the way I looked at her when we first met. She just needed a little bit of help. And now that she got it, she’s ready to bloom for the entire world to see.
Medeia: I hope you get to meet her. I think you two would get along pretty well. Actually, nevermind. Maybe I’m only seeing a lot of her in you because I see a lot of me in her.
Paracelsus: … What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Medeia: Who knows? Maybe you’ll find out when you first meet face-to-face.
Paracelsus: When I-
Paracelsus: …
Paracelsus (small smile expression) : Yeah. I think I’d like that.
—
>Option Select: Tul
Medeia: Tul? Oof. That is a bit of a tough one. Let's see.
Medeia: Tul is the kind of person who'd notice a banana peel on the floor and leave it there for you to slip on. Then, when that inevitably happened, he'd be there to get you on your feet with an uplifting smile.
Medeia: So he could see you trip on a toy car and fall down the stairs next.
Paracelsus: How do you even meet all these people...
Medeia: Hey, it's not like I had a choice. And besides, I don't think one's actions could be more fully justified than his.
Paracelsus: I see. Is he going to be okay?
Medeia: I hope so. He did let go of immediate revenge to help us all, but he is not as happy as he pretends to be. Unfortunately, right now, all I can directly do is wait for time to heal all wounds. Anymore would be rather insensitive on my part.
Medeia: He will probably turn his gaze to you, though, so keep your guard up a bit. If you can help him, great. If not, c’est la vie.
Paracelsus: Got it. Thanks for the warning, Medeia.
—
>Option Select: Damian
Medeia: I don’t think you need me to tell you more about him, by this point. Why don’t you share with me your thoughts on him?
Paracelsus: He’s a self-serving idiot.
Medeia: That is certainly a collection of words. Care to elaborate?
Paracelsus: He’s a naive ball of sunshine who rolls through any understandable social norms in order to offer people help because he made that his personal serotonin-inducing mission. I think my description is pretty understandable.
Medeia: It is. But it is not a fully negative one, is it?
Paracelsus: No. It is not. His naivete regarding how the world works made him suggest some pretty idiotic stuff. But at the same time, that and the way he wore his past on his sleeve made him the only one that could help me. One way or another, I wouldn’t be here today if he hadn’t shown up at the beginning of the year.
Paracelsus: After all… I’m the kind of person who can only be saved by force.
—
>Option Select: Vri
Paracelsus: Is Vri really a dragon? An actual, genuine dragon?
Medeia: Yup. A bonafide water dragon, in every possible way. The villagers regarded him with as much awe as you just did.
Medeia: But, since you did ask for my opinion: I’d say Vri is the kind of person who was born to be a perfect shut-in.
Paracelsus: Well, isn’t that a flattering picture.
Medeia: Hum hum. Unfortunately, he experienced too much love when he was young. Because of that, he mistakenly understood “community” as something necessary for “existence”. And it is, just not for him.
Medeia: If he had vanished into the mountains of the realm as soon as he arrived, he would have lived a much better life. However, the villagers asked for his help, and he, understanding people as needed for his happiness, shackled himself to them and vice-versa. And that is how their shared punishment began.
Medeia: I have not the faintest idea of where he is right now. Hopefully he found a snug little cave to hide himself in forever. Or someone who is willing to pamper and finance his non-existence in society. Either one works.
Paracelsus: …
Medeia: Yes? Do you have something you want to say?
Paracelsus: I was just thinking to myself… asking someone to give up on the house they painstakingly built over their entire life, when said house is their most important belonging, bar none-
Paracelsus: Even if the life he lived was harmful to him, you asked more of Vri than you asked of everyone else. What offer did you make for him, Medeia?
Medeia: Fufufu, does it matter?
Medeia: He agreed to it. All the villagers that were with him were freed from their imprisonment, and all the people of this world were saved from absolution.
Medeia: I’d pay the price over and over again, without a drop of regret.
—
>Option Select: Ariadne
Cel: So… Ariadne?
Medeia: She is the love of my life. Simple as that.
Cel: Huh. You said that very casually.
Medeia: Well, I’d like to think I’m someone who is honest about their own feelings. Unlike some people.
Cel: Hey, I caught that. It is not like I’m dishonest about mine.
Medeia: If you say so.
Medeia: We are high school sweethearts, Ariadne and I. But we agreed to mostly travel our own separate ways, once college came around, and that is the arrangement we still have to this day, meeting up more by chance than by plan.
Medeia: It just so happened that we were traveling in unison when we got roped up in Damian and Tul’s little incident, so we went through its entirety together.
Cel: I see.
Cel: … doing this kind of long distance arrangement… I wonder…
Medeia: I won’t say it is easy, per se. Half the time, when we meet again, it is like we have to figure each other out from the start, whether immediately of halfway through.
Medeia: But it is worth it. It never stops being worth it.
Medeia: Ariadne, my love, my life, the one that will lead me into my next world. There is no one I adore more than her.
Medeia: And I can only hope she keeps on thinking the same of me. That is all.
And one big group portrait of all my OCs having been mummified and ready to be put away. This one was pretty fun to do. You can probably guess who is saying what based on the text position and colors.
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Exchanging her usual clothes for overalls and loose hair for a ponytail, Medeia calmly fixed the ground around her latest project. Ever her faithful companion, Argo laid down next to her, waiting patiently save for the occasional yip.
“Don't worry. I'm almost done.” She said, using her elbow to mess with him a bit, since her hands would get him dirtied by her gloves.
Eventually, a looming shadow announced someone else's presence. “So? What is this one?”
“Parsley. Just got some, so figured I might as well add it to my part of the garden.” Medeia explained.
“Your side is incredibly well-kept, given you have only been here for a couple months.” He remarked. “Aren't you taking this too seriously?”
“Plants are an important ingredient to many potions and medicines, aren't they, uncle Jack?” She asked, flashing that smile she showcased when she knew she was right. “I have to make sure I take care of the root of my creations. In fact, I’m planning on using some of them as mulch to increase the quality of future harvests. That should make our work reach the utmost quality.”
“Careful. Don’t make a videogame loop out of your skills.” He warned.
She chuckled, but replied. “What? Aren’t you the one who says one must always seek further knowledge?” Unnoticeable to her, he grew a little quieter upon hearing that. “Plants settle down their roots, grow and bring their successors into the world as they feed us and die. I like helping them prosper, is all.”
“... Yeah. There is nothing wrong with that. But now, come on. It’s gonna be night before long. Let’s get back in, shall we?” The wizard suggested.
Agreeing, his niece got up, stretched and called forth her energetic corgi. “Alright! Come here, Argo! Let’s go, boy!”
-------
This place was secluded. Medeia wouldn’t have found it without a stroke of luck.
Golden apples, glowing softly under the sun, ethereal sight that required human hands to thrive. In this grotto purposefully hidden away from her sight and their garden, she saw remnants of mane, ore and other materials she had obtained for him.
Argo laid down by her side, steps tired. He still kept up with her wonderfully, but it was obvious it was growing tougher for her loyal companion to do so.
This was it, then.
“We have seen enough, haven’t we?” Squatting, the wizard’s niece opened her arms, letting her dog settle in. Getting up, she announced. “Come on. There is nothing for us here.”
-------
Lucas cautiously looked at the potted plants that had popped up at his new flat, sandy ears twitching in curiosity. “Hey, Medeia. What are those?”
Taking off her headphones, his roommate got up to see what he was talking about and replied. “Oh. Um, sage, lavender, jasmine. Sorry, I made sure not to pick anything you’re allergic to, but I still should have checked first. Are you okay with them?”
“Yeah! They’re pretty. I just didn’t know this was something you knew how to do.”
Confidently (some would say smugly), she announced. “A good potion maker gets her materials straight from the source whenever possible! Helps learn about their characteristics and also avoid taking them for granted. I actually have an agreement with the agriculture people to make use of their greenhouses, but I felt like getting some potted plants for home care.”
Watching them some more, Lucas asked. “Could you teach me the basics of, like, gardening?”
“Hum? I mean, you don’t have to. I can take care of them by myself no problem.”
“I know that. But, one must always learn more, right? Maybe this will be handy for me in the future.” He argued.
At that point, she smiled. “Well said, Lu. Come here. Let’s start with the matters of watering…”
-------
Exchanging her usual clothes for a brand new set of gardening gear the village tailor kindly made for her, Medeia calmly fixed the ground around her latest project.
“What are you doing?” The village's guardian asked her. His spear was always by his side, but his tone of voice and his body language, including his tail, left it clear that this visit was fueled by curiosity and nothing else.
“Hi, Vri! I decided I might as well take up gardening again. Just planted some rosemary.” She said, then, content with what she organized, got up, stretched, and proceeded to admit a thing or two. “I’ve been living a nomad lifestyle since I left college, pretty much, so I haven’t done this in a while. If I’m gonna be confined to this other realm, I might as well make the most of it.”
“That is how most newcomers here decide to see their situation. I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Looking over the small plot of land she was caring after, he offered. “Would you want me to water them for you?”
“Water from a Rain Dragon? Now that would be a blessing upon the harvest.” Medeia exclaimed. “Are you sure that is fine? I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“It is perfectly fine. I do this for the farmers here quite often. Besides, consider this an investment. We have a partnership, don’t we, folk healer? I’m sure this will help the villagers plenty.” He friendly remarked.
“Scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. Very well, go ahead!”
Putting his spear in front of him, Vri focused his natural magic, coating his brown skin with a glow the same shade of blue as his hair and scaled tail. Soon, small raindrops condensed into the air ahead of him, softly falling to the ground.
This wasn’t half-bad, Medeia thought. Maybe someday she would settle down for good again.
-------
The years went by, and the potion maker stepped out of her house.
Her body didn’t quite agree with great adventures anymore, so retirement came at a good time. A small abode, decently near a village that could only very charitably be called a town, granting her that ‘weird grandma in the middle of the woods’ vibe that fit so perfectly on her.
Prepare the earth, spread the seeds, apply mulch. Alongside permanent residence, old hobbies returned to mind. She had seen much of the world. Now, it was time to sit down, settle roots and feed those who’d come after her.
Checking the parts of her garden that were already blooming, she gathered a handful of thyme, and, humming softly, went back inside.
