Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I was born in Vesuvia, in my Grandmother's house, in the late summertime, under a seed moon.

There weren't a lot of babies born in those days. According to my parents, for several years leading up to my birth, Vesuvian winters had been long and very harsh, and summers had been cool and dry. Crops were sparse, and trading ships came less frequently, carrying more expensive goods, and less of them. Being a port city, we were more fortunate than those who lived inland and had little access to imported goods. It was said that many inland towns perished during those years. The people lost livestock, there was hunger and poverty. Families grew smaller as the sick and elderly passed away, and fewer babies were born.

The year I was born, the world seemed to reawaken. The earth shrugged off her icy mantle and suddenly trees blossomed. It was the first warm spring in years, and at the perfect time. The rains came and crops grew. Lambs and calves were born. And on a blazing bright afternoon, so was I. My mother and father adored me, and so did various aunts, uncles, and friends of the family. They named me Alise, for one of my great grandmothers, and Avive, for the spring.

As soon as I could walk sturdily, my Mother and Aunt put me to work in my Aunt's shop, dusting and sweeping and doing small tasks. I stayed out of the way when customers came in, and learned to anticipate when Auntie would need a stepstool or an envelope or something. I'd work from early morning until lunchtime, and after lunch, my schooling began.

My mother made sure I was versed in the arts of sewing, cooking, and woodworking. She talked a lot about how different people have different gifts, and that everyone's gifts are valuable in some way. She taught me to garden, and how to forage in the nearby woods for berries and mushrooms and roots. She taught me which tree bark could ease aches and pains, which mosses would cleanse a bleeding wound, and which leaves could ease intestinal distress. She taught me to dry herbs, and she carefully instructed me on which were medicinal, and how powerful some could be. The older I grew, the more in-depth these lessons became, and by the time I'd grown as tall as Mother, I was a fair junior herbalist.

In the evenings, after dinner, it was my father's turn to give me lessons. He taught me everything he knew of geography, animals and nature, mechanics of boats and wagons and such, how to read and write and do basic numberings. Our favorite subject was history, both of Vesuvia and of other lands he had visited. He loved telling me stories and I loved listening to them.

My father spent all day at the docks, which were strictly off-limits to me as a child. Merchants and sailors were a rowdy bunch and my mother refused to let me anywhere near that world. There were rumours of pirates, of smuggling, even the occasional kidnapping or murder. As fascinating as the masquerade was, I found the mysterious docks irresistible. Whenever my father had a visitor, I was sent upstairs to bed right after dinner, so the adults could talk freely. I'd eavesdrop of course, not understanding much of their stories. Sometimes they spoke Neviv, sometimes they spoke other languages I didn't know. Always there were words that I know my mother wouldn't want me hearing. I reveled in the deep-throated laughter from the huge blustery men, marveling how at ease my father and mother were with them.

Chapter Text

When I was 13, I became, as my mother put it, "a woman." It was messy and incomfortable and I couldn't understand why the old women were so excited. I didn't feel any different. I didn't look any different. I was tall and gangly and much too skinny. The fortune-teller's grandson said I looked like a wheat stalk - straight up and down and straw for hair - and the description seemed to fit. I was too big for children's clothes and too... well, skinny I guess, for ladies' dresses. And I hated shoes.

Thankfully, Auntie wasted no time fixing this problem. One quiet morning, when we hadn't seen a customer all day, Auntie closed the shop just before lunch, and sent my mother on an errand. As soon as mother left, Auntie wrapped a scarf around my head, grabbed me by the hand and said "you and me get to have some fun today," and whisked me out the back door.

"where are we going?" I asked, confused and excited and a little scared. I'd never gone anywhere without my parents permission before.

"I'm taking you shopping," Auntie said with a smile and a twinkle in her eye.

My heart leapt. "At the Marketplace?!" I felt dizzy. "What are we buying? Can we get food?"

"Just you wait," Auntie laughed.

Auntie brought me to a stall filled with fabrics - soft linens, sturdy cottons, shimmering silks, and translucent fabrics I'd never seen before. There were ribbons and bead strings and ropes of soft, shiny gold. There were fringed trimmings, and threads and yarns of every color imaginable. I gazed in wonder as I gently touched these things, introducing myself to the beauties I had admired for years but never gotten this close to.

The owner of the stall was a large woman with calloused hands and dusty grey hair tied in a bun. "Let's have a look," she said, holding me upright, turning me this way and that. "Why don't you feed her, Dotty!?" She barked at my aunt.

Auntie laughed. "She eats us out of house and home!" Auntie exclaimed, playfully swatting my arm. I blushed. I did love food. Even at that moment I was smelling some sort of spiced meat from a neighboring stall, hoping to taste some later.

"Ok," said the stall owner. "Here's what I got." She rummaged around the shop, pulling things from various corners, down from high shelves, digging things out of baskets. She marched over to me and handed me a huge bundle of clothes. "Go in the back room and try these on."

I nodded shyly and smiled, and obeyed.

Nothing really fit. Everything was too big. Auntie and the shop owner fussed over me, arguing about colors and what sort of alterations were needed. Eventually they put me back in my shift and mantle, and I tied my sash around my waist while the women carried the heap of clothes back into the shop, laughing and starting to tell stories. I pulled my hair out of its ponytail and re-tied it. I shuffled my bare feet against the floor, waiting patiently.

"Ok, in a few then. Thanks Melia!" Auntie called to the shop owner, as she led me out the door.

"You... You're buying me clothes?" I asked timidly. "New clothes of my own?" Auntie smiled. I stopped in my tracks. "Does Mother know?"

Auntie sighed. "I told your mother I'd get you some new clothes. She wasn't thrilled but she didn't say no. Don't worry... I'm pretty sure she won't be upset. I'm not getting you a ballgown or anything. Just some comfortable things you can wear in the shop and around town that actually FIT you. You've outgrown everything... and your mother isn't ready to share her clothes with you. So..." We kept strolling along.

I gasped when I saw the stall Auntie had led us to. The smells of marinated meats and spiced fish! The steaming bowls of - soup? Porridge? My mouth watered.

"What would you like, Ali?" Auntie asked, holding up her small pouch. A MONEY pouch. I stared. Auntie jingled the pouch provocatively. "Take your pick, I know you're hungry!"

After Auntie and I had feasted, we returned to the fabric shop. The shop owner had a package wrapped in brown roughcloth. "Here you are sweet thing," She said, handing it to me. I gasped, eyes wide - such a large package! "Auntie how much did you buy?" I blurted out.

The two older women laughed and laughed. "Lorena doesn't feed her, and apparently she's never bought her anything? What the hell kinda family you got Dotty!?" The shop owner brayed.

My auntie yanked her friend's headscarf playfully. "That child's never wanted for anything! Lorena's just very protective of her one and only baby girl!"

The women looked at me fondly. I felt my cheeks redden, partially with happiness. "Thank you, Miz Melia, for all of this. Thank you so much. I really appreciate it."

"Aw, darlin," Melia said, planting a kiss on top of my head. "If anything doesn't fit right, you come back and I'll fix it."

"Do you think..." I paused, wondering if I should say it. "Do you think my mother will like these?"

The women stopped laughing. Melia's face turned stormy. "WHY wouldn't Lorena like my clothes?"

I stammered "Oh no, I'm sure she will LOVE your clothes! I've just... never bought anything without her before!"

Auntie patted her friend on the arm. "Nobody could doubt your quality wares, Melia. Lorena is just going to have to get used to the idea that Alise isn't a little girl anymore." Auntie beamed at me, while Melia seemed to look at me with new eyes. "Alise's a young woman now." Auntie kicked dust at my feet. "And you need shoes."

I groaned.

Chapter Text

A few moons later, came the Vesuvia Masquerade.

I'd seen the masquerade before, with my parents. Count Lucio, the ruler of Vesuvia, threw a giant Masquerade party every year on his birthday. Every year the well-to-do citizens of Vesuvia would throng the palace gates, dressed in extravagant costumes and masks. The entire town surrounding the palace was suddenly a faire, a marketplace, an amateur performance venue with jugglers and magicians and exotic animals. When I was very small, Mother would tie a string around my waist and wrist and tie the other end to her arm, to make sure she didn't lose me in the crowds. And there were crowds. Hundreds of bustling, smiling, laughing, happy people in colorful clothes and masks. The bakery churned out rolls and sweets to meet the demand of the masses, and I'd close my eyes and smell everything we couldn't afford to eat. My Mother haggled most of the day with the traders, somehow getting everything she needed; I never really paid attention. I was too busy people-watching, smelling foods, laughing at stray dogs and birds vying for bits of dropped rolls. I dreamed of a day when I'd be grown up and able to wear a costume, a mask, and maybe taste some of those sweet pastries.

Auntie would set up a little tent near the castle selling all sorts of party wares - masks, perfumes, incense sticks to wave around, feathers and ribbons, even a love potion from time to time. These items sold faster than Prakhan pastries. Everyone seemed to be competeing with each other to have the fanciest, prettiest, most attention-getting outfits. As soon as I was old enough to be of help, my parents began leaving me with Auntie and going about whatever it was adults did at masquerade. Their costumes were always very modest, really just loud clothes with masks. I know they spent some time at the docks and in taverns, based on what I was able to eavesdrop late nights afterward. After a long day of selling pretty things to interesting people, I got to hear more mysterious stories from my father's world. This was, without a doubt, my favorite time of year.

Everyone was bustling setting up our little tent. Auntie had me running back and forth from shop to tent with boxes and bags of things to be sold to fairegoers. For the first time in my life, I understood why people wore shoes. My new leather slippers had thick soles and my feet would have been bloody if not for their protection.

It was still quite early when Auntie realized we didn't have nearly enough fortune bundles to meet anticipated demand. Fortune bundles were one of my tasks. I'd take a scrap of paper, write a simple, happy little prediction on it, and bundle it up in a small piece of cloth with some sweet-smelling herbs and a couple pretty crystals or metallic stones. Put a fancy bow on it, and people will buy it. Some folks bought one nearly every day!

Auntie chewed her lip. "I need you HERE," she muttered to herself. "I'll go get the stuff."

My eyes widened. She's leaving me alone here to run the tent? My eyes glanced at the cash box, hidden under Auntie's chair and draped with cloth. I looked around at the already gathered crowd.

Auntie clearly had the same thought I did. "Where in the seven hells is your MOTHER," Auntie barked. She trundled over to nearby stalls, asking around as to my mother's whereabouts, but no one had seen Mother since she'd left for the docks, arms piled high with bread and cheese for my father and his sailors. "Dammit Lorena. Damn pirates." Auntie scowled darkly. She came back to the tent, looked at me, and sighed.

And so I was tasked with running back to the store for bundle making supplies. Faire day had begun and people were already perusing the various tents and carts. I kept my focus on the task at hand, though it was hard. So many beautiful costumes and masks. Dancers and Acrobats performing. One of the palace's white peacocks was preening on top of someone's shop. The sun blazed overhead. It all felt wonderful.

I was skipping and whistling when I arrived at Auntie's shop. I found the things I needed in their usual spot. Wistfully I wished I could sit comfortably at the counter and make my bundles. It was quiet and peaceful. I knew Auntie would be needing me at the tent though. Procrastinating, I went upstairs to the kitchen for a glass of the tea Auntie always kept in a big jar.

As soon as I got to the top of the stairs, I heard something skittering downstairs. Was there a stray dog or cat in the shop? I looked back to see a man - or a kid? - darting out of the shop as quick as lighting. He was FAST. All I caught a glimpse of was shockingly white hair. Maybe it was an older person? What old person could move that fast?

I went back downstairs and did a quick check. Nothing seemed to be missing. I went back upstairs and looked for the tea jar... which was empty. I also noticed the bread and fruit on the counter was gone. "Little thief," I thought to myself.

When I got back to Auntie's tent, I told her we'd been robbed. I told Auntie the whole story as vividly as possible. Auntie's brows furrowed.

"Just food?" Auntie asked. "Nothing else was missing?"

"Nope," I huffed. "I probably scared them away before they had a chance to grab anything else!"

"Or maybe they were just hungry," Auntie mused, pulling over a stool for me. "Forget about it Alise. Here, get going on those bundles."

Busying myself with the work, I did soon forget.

Chapter Text

Before I knew it, the masquerade was months ago. A chilly wind blew in from the south, and I decided to become a shoe-wearer.

It never really got too cold in Vesuvia. I could start growing a plant anytime of the year, as long as I had a pot. Mother was pleased with my horticultural prowess, and she taught me to make simple salves and poultices and medicinal teas. I enjoyed it.

I also smugly enjoyed the knowledge that I was better at growing things than Mother was, and according to Father, better than Auntie had been as well.

I sang to my plants.

Mother had always sung in her garden, and ever since I learned to speak, I had joined in. She never deliberately taught me to sing; it was just something that developed naturally between us. As strained as my relationship with my strict mother may have been, when we sang together in the garden, I felt closer to her than ever. A connection was strengthened, of love, and cameraderie, and partnership. Sometimes we sang together, and as I grew older, I learned to hold a harmony. But tonight... mischievously, I surprised Mother with a sea shanty I had heard father singing, stumbling his way home from somewhere, disturbing the neighbors but entertaining me immensely. Mother's eyebrows shot up.

"WHERE did you learn THAT!?" She glowered.

"Father of course!" I giggled "You've heard him!"

"Haven't I." She sighed.

I launched into the second verse and she joined me. The two of us did a silly little jig while we sang and burst into laughter. I marvelled at this woman, my mother, who was always so strict with me, but who, recently, had begun to seem like more of a friend. Music was so powerful.

"Here," Mother sighed, tossing a trowel at me, which I easily cuaght one-handed. "Pull those herbs out of those pots and get them in the big box. We'll have to bring them inside tonight."

I busied myself with the task, humming to myself. I very gently dug the trowel into the soil around the outside of the roots, being careful not to tear them. When the plant was loose enough, it broke free from the pot so easily, it seemed to levitate into my hands.

"Aren't you so helpful!" I crooned to the plant. "And so beautiful and strong too. You'll be so much more comfortable in this big box with your friends."

My hands felt so warm, cradling the little plant. Very warm. And it was chilly out.

I just sat there, almost cuddling the leafy life form. My fingers were warm. My hands were warm. And the plant... seemed to shimmer in the late afternoon sun.

"...Mom?" I called.

Mother came over and knelt down next to me. She examined the plant with a smile.

"My, my. Look how lovely your greens are Alise." Mother smiled warmly, beginning to hum a soft melody.

The plant leaves very gently... swayed.

"Come on, Alise," Mother said, smiling at me.

We hummed together, serenading the little plant. It was undeniably swaying, very gently, along with our song. Softly, Mother's voice faded out, and I sang to my plant, making up the words as I went along.

"Sweet green spirit, come and live, come and live, lovely little leaves unfurl, so much you have to give..."

And then, with a soft brightness, the plant grew.

Slowly, the stalk lengthened, and two new leaves unfurled. The plant seemed to shine with an inner light of its own.

I stared at my Mother, who sighed.

"Very well done, Alise. Very well done." Mother patted my head. "Make sure all 8 sproutlings are nestled comfy in that box so we can move them back and forth. And don't take too long." With a swish of her skirts Mother went inside and left me alone in the garden.

I stared at my little plant. My little friend. This... living being in my hands, simply sitting there as if to say "well, what did you expect?"

I made a little nest of soil in the box and settled the plant into it. Eight more to go.

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"Mother..." I began carefully, "...did you know I'd be able to do that?"

"YOU didn't do anything," Mother said crisply. "The plant did the work. You just helped it feel welcome, as a gardener should."

"But... you said I had a gift."

Mother looked sharply at me. "Of course. The same gift I and your grandmother and your Aunt have. You're a woman now, so it's about time you learned to use it."

This was a lot to process. I had been taught the basics of magic, studied it like any other subject, but I'd never been taught to use it. I was an herbalist, not a magician. But what I had done - what my mother and grandmother and aunt had all done - was undeniably magical. I had to choose my words carefully.

"Thank you, Mother. I didn't realize."

"Well, now you do. Finish your tea and get to bed."

I wanted to ask so many questions, but I knew better. I'd save them all for Auntie.

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Chapter Text

Auntie sighed, stirring her tea, not looking at me. She closed her eyes, and suddenly looked very tired.

"Your mother has never been comfortable with our family's gifts," She said heavily. "You have to realize it was hard for her. Our parents were often too busy for her. She never had any real friends until she was a grown woman. She was small, and awkward, and Vesuvian kids were pretty cruel to her."

"Was she... ashamed?" I wondered aloud. "Did she get made fun of?" I remembered being teased on occasion by some local kids, and how it hurt.

"She did get picked on a lot. Your grandfather wasn't from Vesuvia, so she got called "half-breed" and "mutt" and was often just excluded from things."

I knew my grandfather's origins weren't talked about much, because he didn't talk about it. Really nobody talked about Firent, the mysterious nation that supplied one-quarter of my bloodline. Not much was known about the place, and I was never really curious about it. But I realized that for Mother, being half-Firentian, it was probably a big deal, something she could never escape or forget.

"Auntie, what do you know about Firent?"

"Not much child," Auntie sighed again. They are ruled by a sort of high Preistess. Everybody there believes in a certain goddess, and they lives their lives according to how that goddess supposedly demands. They don't like outsiders, and hardly anybody ever leaves. They don't need much in trade. They're pretty isolated."

"Have you ever been there?"

"Me? No! I've never had any desire to see the place."

"but... you're half Firentian too," I suddenly realized. "Haven't you ever been curious about your people?"

"They aren't my people," Auntie said matter-of-factly. "Vesuvia is my home, these are my people." Auntie gave me a hard look. "This is your home too, Alise. Don't go getting any wild ideas about Firent. Nobody there would know you, and nobody there would want to know you. Your grandfather had his reasons for leaving and that is that."

I sighed, and swirled my tea, gone cold. "I know Auntie. I love Vesuvia. But you can't blame me for being curious."

Auntie smiled warmly. "Tell you what, maybe I can find you a book about the place. Would you like that?"

"Yes, very much!" I exclaimed.

"Well good then, that's settled. Off with ya, back home you go." Auntie ruffled my hair and took away my teacup.

"Thanks Auntie. Thank you so much," I said, hugging her from behind while she washed the teacups. I ran out into the late evening sunset, feeling fresh and ready to go home.

Chapter Text

Foraging wasn't my favorite thing. The forest was lovely, and I liked the smells of the plants and the feel of the earth beneath her sandals. But I didn't like the bug bites I inevitably came home with, and the two days of itching that followed. Mother never seemed to get bitten. Neither did Aunt Dot. "You're just sweeter than us old ladies, Alise," Auntie would say, smearing lavender over my ankles. The lavender was supposed to keep the bugs away, but it never seemed to work.

Unfortunately, there were some plants that were just impossible to grow in pots, so I trotted off toward the forest one summer morning, reeking of lavender, grumbling. Wondering if I could somehow bargain with one of the local street kids to do this for me. I couldn't think of anything I had to bargain with though. I knew most of those kids would do anything for food, but I never had money of my own, and Mother would shriek if I started taking that much food. Mother was always watching my diet these days. "You've got to watch your figure!" Mother would fuss, taking cookies out of my hands and replacing them with fruit. "Who's going to marry a glutton?"

I shook my head and scanned for plants. There's some of that leaf mother always dries and sells, I thought to myself.

Sunlight filtered down through the leaves of the trees, dappling the forest in bright yellow spots of light. I could smell the pungent herbs, hear the breeze gently rustling the tree branches, even the burble of a small stream nearby. I closed my eyes and just breathed it all in for a few minutes. So quiet. So peaceful. Nobody to fuss over my clothes or tell me what to do or order me around... Somewhere a raven cried, a small creature rustled away into the underbrush, an owl hooted.

With my eyes still closed, I began to sing.

As I opened my eyes, I could hear the sounds I made, clear and fluid, like warm honey tea, flowing into the air around me, gently settling into the greenery like mist. I was happy to find some plants that I could pull up with the roots intact - I could try again to grow them in pots. I sang a bit more strongly, as I enjoyed myself, not exactly loudly, but a smooth, confident melody. The grasses glowed greener. When a plant spontaneously flowered in my hand, I laughed, and looked around.

I had affected all plant life within about arms length from myself. I sat in the middle of a softly glowing green circle, small flowers budding, grasses a bit taller than the rest, leaves open and full. The smells were pungent and lovely and I suddenly wanted stew. I smiled to myself; my abilities were growing. I'd never really had this much effect on my surroundings before. Was it becuase I felt uninhibited without mother around? Feeling light and free, I continued my work. There were edible flowers and roots a short distance away, farther into the forest. As I moved to the new spot, the trees seemed to emit a warm energy, their trunks protective and seemingly invulnerable. When I found the patch of flowers, I sang to them, and watched them unfurl for me, in all their colorful beauty.

*SMACK*

And the bugs were feasting again. Tiny little monsters, I grumbled. I ignored the itching as best I could while I gathered flowers and roots.

A small lizard appearing next to my foot. It startled me, but it was rather cute, large eyes and tilted head looking quizzically up at me. "Can I help you?" I asked the creature, while I tried to smack my ankle a bit more gently so as not to frighten it.

The small lizard flicked its tongue out and caught one of the small bugs in mid-air, gulping it down in one smooth motion. I just watched. The lizard blinked at me. Very slowly, tentatively, I extended one foot toward the lizard.

The next bug that came near my ankle was quickly eaten. And the next one. And the next.

I was utterly charmed. "This could be the start of a beautiful friendship!" I giggled, as the lizard's tongue tickled my ankle. I extended my other ankle, and sure enough the lizard was happily feasting on all the bugs that tried to feast on me. I leaned back on my hands, humming a bouncy little nursery rhyme, watching my new friend enjoying his dinner.

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I didn't mind foraging so much anymore, as long as I was allowed to go alone. If Mother or Auntie came along, my lizard friend was too shy to come out, and I'd get bitten again. I didn't know how to tell my mother about this strange phenomenon, so I just had to endure those visits. Luckily, I was growing older, and mother was far more likely to choose to stay at the shop or go to the market than accompany me into the woods, so long as I foraged "properly." The herbs had to be at their peak of growth, some before they flowered. Roots had to be a certain length and thickness. Some flowers had to be buds, others mature, others couldn't be seperated from their stalk or they'd dry out too fast...

I became quite the perfectionist. And so I was usually alone on my trips into the forest, and could do as I liked.

My lizard friend had brought his mate, a slightly smaller lizard with lighter coloring, and shining, intelligent eyes. One lizard for each ankle! I adored them and their busy little feet. I talked to them often. They never seemed to mind listening to my complaints about my overbearing mother, or how much I missed father when he went sailing. I gossiped to them about the townsfolk. There was the cloth vendor and seamstress, Auntie's dearest friend, who was clearly getting pirated goods, since she lived far beyond what a clothier should make. There was the baker who always gave me the largest loaf on the counter with a twinkle in his eye. He'd asked if I was dancing at the masquerade this year... I wondered if I'd be allowed some time off for fun. I told my lizard friends about the other girls in town who I'd become friendly with, and how I wished I had black hair like this one or perfect, unfreckled skin like that one. And the lizards listened, and ate their bugs, and it was always so pleasant.

This time, this particular foraging trip, I had a secret mission. I had smelled something on my previous trips that I couldn't quite identify. It was spicy and sweet at the same time. It came from a certain direction, deeper into the forest. I knew there might be bears or other dangerous creatures in the woods, but I also knew that earlier in the day they'd likely be uninterested in me and would keep to themselves. I had planned this trip carefully. I even had a small knife with me, in case of emergency. I had no idea how to use a knife for anything other than spreading butter or cutting meat, but I felt prepared having it with me. I was determined to find the plant that smelled so heavenly, and bring back a sample for mother.

My lizard friends climbed into my outstretched hands, and I placed them in my herb basket. One of them skitterd up my arm and settled on my shoulder, right in the warm crook of my neck. The other lizard climbed all the way on top of my head and nestled into my hair. I laughed, and walked carefully so as not to disturb them.

The forest grew thicker as I walked. Less sunlight made it through the trees. The warm smells of lichen on rocks drifted through the air, and the sound of the stream grew louder. I turned, sniffing for the spice. THAT way. My nose brought me through a dense patch of tall grassy plants, until I found a small clearing.

Someone had lit a fire in that clearing. There was a pot sitting on the ashes. The smell came from the pot.

I was not alone.

I hummed a soft tune to myself, to gather my courage. This was the last thing I'd expected. Who would be cooking out here in the middle of nowhere? Was this safe? This didn't seem safe. I gingerly stepped closer to the pot, just so I could smell deeper. This was definitely the spice I'd been looking for - but where were the plants?

I quickly made my way back through the tall grass, back the way I'd came. Nothing about this felt safe.

As I reached the edge of the forest, far behind me, I heard the howling of a wolf.