#debukefarmhold

"I know, I know...and I don't know how much I'll be able to achieve. But a friend asked if I had mastered it, and she's being cagey, and the situation sounds serious, so...so what kind of friend would I be if I didn't try?"

"Honey, how much Spring have you been using recently?" Emmit inquires "I mean, is it your main art of late?"

The Mountain and Chief seem to be kenning her

"Um...pretty much? I mean...yeah...I used it with the Freehold, most recently. And...well...it's kind of the first skill I think of when I inventory 'how can I help here'...."

"I do a little Willow Whisper now and then, but that's the only Primal skill I've got."

"Well then, possible she's at the cusp?" Clem looks at her Great Uncle

Sylvi gives him a hopeful look.

Emmit mmms then nods "Da'an might even intend this to be her time. " A look at Sylvi from the old man "Sylvi, you're a DeBuke, you've a right to techniques we don't just share. Are you willing to hurt to learn?"

THAT sounds ominous

A wry grin. "I'm a cheerleader." As if the answer is an obvious yes.

Clem looks at the Mountain "You realize if her folks find out about the technique I think you're thinking of, they'e liable to want to haul off and deck us?"

That gets wide eyes.

"I don't want to get you in trouble."

"At the very least" Emmit nods "But it's part of how we rediscovered Spring's most potent magics here... annd she needs it quick"

"Just tell em if they asked that you litterally asked for this" Clem says "Love your folks, but they aren't in charge here." She calls out "WINTER WORKERS, I need you!"

A gulp, a nod, and a setting of jaw.

The rituals weren't banal, they were numbing, cantrip after cantrip it felt like, in a bare and sparse square of corners gone ... unnatural. All directions are North, all Seasons are winter. Sylvi sits in the center of it. She lost track of time. It's Winter. It's always been Winter, hasn't it? it certainly feels like it always will be

She doesn't feel upset.

Or sad. Or angry. But she also doesn't feel happy.

She just is.

She stares ahead, a bit puzzled when she tries to focus on the situation, but that doesn't last long...she stops wondering.

I mean...it doesn't matter, does it.

Which is okay.

She came here to do something.

And she has her memories of it.

But the stillness makes it... seem so distant

Oh...yes...it was...wait....

Again, she tries to focus, at least enough to make the memory clearer. It was...there were words from Nadeen...and she asked about....

Right...right...Spring. Mastering Spring. Yes. Right.

Yes...that's what this is about.

But...this isn't Spring-y.

It's cold. Empty. Dead.

Not Spring-y at all.

....could it be?

Could she make it Spring-y?

It's an awful lot of nothing....

But...Winter melts. It does. It always does.

Is she sure?

A frown. Does it always?

Doesn't matter. It's got to. She's got stuff to do. Somewhere.

She can, with effort, imagine Spring. Even remember it

She can remember it, but that doesn't make it here. Because Spring doesn't happen all at once. It starts with...with a little more light. And a little warming. She knows that. She feels it...because she needs to.

And then...there's the way the ice and snow begins to melt, at the exposed surfaces, the edges...

...vanishing...no...transforming into water....

...which softens the soil...

...and then...yes...a bit warmer...just a bit....

...and...seeds from the Autumn start swelling from the water, and the soil is loosening, giving them room....

...and...the seeds...crack open, like tiny eggs...and plants start uncoiling, stretching....

...and there's a little more light for them to reach towards...