Open Post: This Is Where The Magic Happens

[rememberettersberg]

A new notice has appeared on the welcome table and at several well-traversed locations around the mansion and its grounds. It invites residents to stop by a certain summer house (which has recently sprung into existence on the shore of the lake) if they are interested in the discussion and/or instruction of magic.

Should anyone's curiosity take them in that direction, they'll find Nightingale there with a pot of tea always on the go and a rotating selection of snacks and nibbles. He's started to cultivate (heh) a small library of his own - important texts in the history of his magical tradition, textbooks for the study of a number of dead/archaic languages, and a growing pile of his own notes.

He'll be delighted to catalogue the differences (and similarities) in the way various worlds practice magic, conduct experiments to see if they can use each other's traditions, and (in the case of Laertes and anyone else that seems like they might be a fit candidate) begin some basic magical instruction.

Closed.

Comments

[rememberettersberg]

"Just so in my world. My apprentice is beginning his journey in adulthood, but my training started at the age of eleven."

He thinks for a moment, tapping pen against paper. "You said you played Inquiry. I assume that there are unique melodies for different purposes? Are they standardised things that each cultivator may learn, or must each person begin anew?"

[lightbearinglord]

"The melodies are standardized, and many are part of a long tradition." Lan Wangji recalls the Cloud Recesses library, the pavilion on which he has spent many days of his life. "Inquiry facilitates communication with spirits. Rest suppresses and calms them."

[rememberettersberg]

Nightingale nods, jotting a few things down. "The specifics may be different, but I see many similarities between our practices. I suspect we would be able to learn each other's methods."

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji appears faintly startled, but only for a moment, his features smoothing again afterward. It is difficult to imagine a man older than himself learning to cultivate for the first time, but then, many of his assumptions have been turned on their heads recently. "Do you meditate?"

[rememberettersberg]

"Meditate?" He laughs a little, shaking his head. "I can't say that I do." He looks as though he'd like to leave it at that, but admits, "my mind is not a quiet place."

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji sobers, if that is even possible. "Meditation is essential for cultivation." He watches the glassily dark surface of his tea, and takes another experimental sip. "Meditation allows for the gathering of qi and the formation of a golden core."

[rememberettersberg]

"I can understand that." Different routes to the same state of mind, where the energy is there for the taking. "What is a golden core?"

[lightbearinglord]

In order to demonstrate, Lan Wangji sets his teacup down. He hovers a hand over his own abdomen, indicating roughly the location of his lower dantian. "A store of qi required to pass a certain level of cultivation. The body is used as a crucible to forge the core. High cultivation is impossible without one." His own burns, steady and bright, at all times, feeding his spiritual power.

[rememberettersberg]

"That's fascinating." He reaches for his cane, leant casually against the wall behind him, and holds it aloft for Lan Wangji's inspection. "I think this would be my equivalent. The metal core is forged by magic and imbued with the same. It allows me to channel much more energy than my own body could handle."

[lightbearinglord]

Although his posture is always straight, Lan Wangji manages to give the impression of straightening further to inspect the cane, intent and interested. He is quiet as he studies it, and then he asks, "What happens if it is destroyed?" Keeping the store of power outside of one's body strikes him as dangerous.

[rememberettersberg]

"Nothing terrible. The power within dissipates and the staff itself becomes mundane. It's more of a... a conduit, I suppose, between the practictioner and the great unknown, though it does store much magic within." If Lan Wangji touches the staff, he might find it to be humming with energy and the melange of sensations that signify Nightingale's magic - metronomic ticking, rough fabric, fresh mown grass, and behind all of that, the fierce heat and clanging percussion of the forge.

[lightbearinglord]

"Mn." Lan Wangji does, then, touch two careful fingertips to the cane. He shuts his eyes for the space of a moment and considers the feeling of that energy. "A golden core is not easily destroyed, but it is irreplaceable." Save for extreme extenuating circumstances, but that is not his story to tell.

[rememberettersberg]

"Perhaps, then, our traditions are too far apart after all." Nightingale smiles. "Thank you for indulging my curiosity nonetheless."

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji sits back. "My interest is undiminished." If they cannot teach one another the practical applications, then so be it. The theory is still potentially fascinating.

[rememberettersberg]

"As is mine." He leans back in his chair to replace his cane against the wall. "Oh! I am to have a student soon enough. Laertes has taken an interest in receiving instruction from me. I'm eager to see if it'll take."

[lightbearinglord]

This expression is not a smile, but it does shade a little warmth into Lan Wangji's eyes. "Young master Laertes is diligent. I instructed him in meditation."

[rememberettersberg]

"His enthusiasm for knowledge of all kinds is a pleasure to encounter," Nightingale replies. "I wonder where it will take him next." Nightingale doesn't yet know about the boat.

[lightbearinglord]

"I regretted that he is past the age to begin cultivating with a chance of good success," Lan Wangji admits. The rest of the sentiment is implied: he's pleased that Nightingale does have something he can offer to teach Laertes, whose hunger for knowledge is indeed refreshing and endearing.

[rememberettersberg]

"You mentioned that your cultivation partner had arrived here. What was the timeframe like for them? Was your absence noted or did they step out at a different point altogether?"

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji actually does appear visibly, if faintly, alarmed, at even the suggestion of Wei Ying not having noted his absence. "We were separated during a night-hunt. Wei Ying looked for me all the while that I was gone, and found me thirteen days later." The little trick of timing does not escape him there. He considers mentioning it, even -- but for now he will wait to hear the reason that Nightingale is asking.

[rememberettersberg]

"I was wondering if time was passing at the same rate as here in the worlds we've left behind. If our absences are tangible or if we've been... replaced somehow, like changelings. I know that Enjolras and Grantaire were taken at the same moment, but I haven't thought until now to ask anyone else with cohorts here."

[lightbearinglord]

"He knew that I was gone," Lan Wangji says firmly. He also believes entirely that Wei Ying would have known it instantly if he'd been replaced with some pale substitute of himself. One more deliberate pause for thought, and then he adds, "We have been separated¹ before. For thirteen years." The precise time it took his husband to find him did seem a slightly cruel trick, but Lan Wangji was so overcome with weakening relief to see him that he hasn't dwelled on it.

¹Understatement. Wei Wuxian was dead.

[rememberettersberg]

"That's terrible, Hanguang-jun. I'm sorry you had to endure it." Nightingale's eyes show his age as he ponders it. "You must have been distraught upon finding yourself here."

[lightbearinglord]

"If my husband had not arrived," Lan Wangji agrees, "we would not be speaking right now." He would be speaking to no one. He would be in the woods, burning through all of his spiritual power, trying every desperate measure in every possible universe to force his way back home. It is one thing to grieve a dead man for thirteen years and another to leave a living, breathing Wei Ying who needs him.

He composes himself and plucks his teacup back into his grasp, then looks toward Nightingale again. He knows that Nightingale has left behind at least one person of importance, and would be interested to hear more if he is inclined to share.

[rememberettersberg]

"I fought in a war many years ago with tremendous personal losses," Nightingale says. "Imagine 99% of your sect being struck down at once. The future of British magic almost entirely extinguished." He throws back the rest of his tea and pours another cup. "For decades, it was just me and my housekeeper, Molly, rattling around a too-big house." He pauses here, wondering how to explain her. "Molly is... under my protection. She is a non-human creature, although she resembles one, and was rescued before the war from a terrible situation." A sigh. "And so when I returned, we drifted like ghosts. She cooked and cleaned, I did my job when I was called upon. A pale imitation of life for us both."