Post by Nevan J. Blake on Aug 24, 2013 23:56:24 GMT -5
”Yeah, t’be sure,” Nevan said with a curt nod, ”Death; she doesn’t care much what people do after she takes dem, nigh does she?” Nevan sat back and watched Jai fiddle with a paper weight for a few seconds before he decided he was more interested in paying attention to the cats than whatever interest Jai had in a rock. ”In dis house?” Nevan asked, glancing back up at Jai and away from the cat in his lap who was purring like an avalanche roared. ”Not dat many, jist eight. Me aunt, uncle, an’ their kids. An’ me a course.” Really not that crowded so far as most houses in the area went. All of Saoirse’s children shared a room, and of course his aunt and uncle shared a room. Neven himself slept next to the stove on a wool stuffed mattress that he rolled up and put in the cupboard during the day. In many of the other residences of the village five people sharing a single bedroom would be perfectly normal. Sometimes it paid off to be witches.
He wasn’t really concerned with drastically altering Jai’s world views. After all, the lanky teenager knew for a fact that he was right in this. Maybe Jai could live in the treetops but for everyone else, settled nicely in pockets of civilization was the way to go. It was just as well that Jai seemed fascinated by the subject since Nevan was starting to run out of things to tell him. This was all just so . . . obvious. But Jai acted like it was all brand new and his earnestness was starting to get a little disconcerting. The witch boy licked his lips before he took another sip of his tea, watching Jai react to his aunt curiously before he decided that was bloody well enough of that.
”Sorry sprog,” Nevan said as he stood, shooing the tabby off his lap as he did so, ”oi’m not well versed enough in tea ter tell yer what sort dis is. But yer make it by soakin’ plants in boiled water.” He supposed that to some it might seem odd that a potions maker couldn’t identify the taste of plants in the tea he was drinking but Nevan only made potions; he wasn’t daft enough to go around drinking them just to get a feel for the right flavor. His mother had once caught him trying to taste a potion when he was still a young boy and the memory of how hard the broom she had been holding smacked him away from the pot still made his head ring today.
The witch glanced around, looking along the shelves for what he would need and eventually finding a huge jug of almond oil resting on the ground next to a few bundles of sage. Nevan leaned down and picked it up, grunting slightly as he took it over and set it on the table. ”De potion oi want ter teach yer is fer skin stuff. Loike bruises, sores, bug bites, cuts an’ such,” Nevan said as he moved some things around on the table so there would be plenty of room. ”Nathin’ magic in dis, an’ de ingredients aren’t ter find too if yer remember ‘ow ter make it.” Really, seemed prefect to teach an outsider to witchcraft. Nevan left the table again and went back to the shelves, grabbing bundles of herbs and little clay pots with barely a glance at them first before he returned to the table and set everything down neatly.
”Roi, so dis is what we need,” Nevan said, ”Almond oil, echinacea root, comfrey leaf, herbal plantain leaf, calendula flowers, lavender flowers, yarrow flowers, an’ beeswax.” Nevan pointed to each of the dried plants as he named them. ”Dried works better than fresh so that’s what we’re gonna use,” Nevan explained. His tone had taken on a very crisp and formal air, indicating how seriously he took potion making compared to everything else, ”We boil de ‘erbs with de oil until ‘tis green an’ den drain oyt de ‘erbs. Den we melt de wax with de oil an’ we got a balm.” Simple, if a little tedious. Nevan thought Jai would remember it.
He wasn’t really concerned with drastically altering Jai’s world views. After all, the lanky teenager knew for a fact that he was right in this. Maybe Jai could live in the treetops but for everyone else, settled nicely in pockets of civilization was the way to go. It was just as well that Jai seemed fascinated by the subject since Nevan was starting to run out of things to tell him. This was all just so . . . obvious. But Jai acted like it was all brand new and his earnestness was starting to get a little disconcerting. The witch boy licked his lips before he took another sip of his tea, watching Jai react to his aunt curiously before he decided that was bloody well enough of that.
”Sorry sprog,” Nevan said as he stood, shooing the tabby off his lap as he did so, ”oi’m not well versed enough in tea ter tell yer what sort dis is. But yer make it by soakin’ plants in boiled water.” He supposed that to some it might seem odd that a potions maker couldn’t identify the taste of plants in the tea he was drinking but Nevan only made potions; he wasn’t daft enough to go around drinking them just to get a feel for the right flavor. His mother had once caught him trying to taste a potion when he was still a young boy and the memory of how hard the broom she had been holding smacked him away from the pot still made his head ring today.
The witch glanced around, looking along the shelves for what he would need and eventually finding a huge jug of almond oil resting on the ground next to a few bundles of sage. Nevan leaned down and picked it up, grunting slightly as he took it over and set it on the table. ”De potion oi want ter teach yer is fer skin stuff. Loike bruises, sores, bug bites, cuts an’ such,” Nevan said as he moved some things around on the table so there would be plenty of room. ”Nathin’ magic in dis, an’ de ingredients aren’t ter find too if yer remember ‘ow ter make it.” Really, seemed prefect to teach an outsider to witchcraft. Nevan left the table again and went back to the shelves, grabbing bundles of herbs and little clay pots with barely a glance at them first before he returned to the table and set everything down neatly.
”Roi, so dis is what we need,” Nevan said, ”Almond oil, echinacea root, comfrey leaf, herbal plantain leaf, calendula flowers, lavender flowers, yarrow flowers, an’ beeswax.” Nevan pointed to each of the dried plants as he named them. ”Dried works better than fresh so that’s what we’re gonna use,” Nevan explained. His tone had taken on a very crisp and formal air, indicating how seriously he took potion making compared to everything else, ”We boil de ‘erbs with de oil until ‘tis green an’ den drain oyt de ‘erbs. Den we melt de wax with de oil an’ we got a balm.” Simple, if a little tedious. Nevan thought Jai would remember it.