#earthrunes

Her Nevers have temporarily fled, seeking hiding spots. One behind a book, one under the hem of Almandine's cloak, one BACK into the candle fire from whence she saved it earlier... only one clings to her, patting at the sickly hued cheeks. Chime??

"Wait, something is wrong. What's wrong? Thistle? Are you - Sir Almandine, please. Is she sick? Why would it make her sick?"

"Was it the spinning? We can get some... uh. Ginger, ginger tea?"

"She has weighed herself and found herself wanting. Yes, I'll ring for ginger tea" He does pull a bell rope

Art blinks. "What does that mean? You..." He bites his tongue, before saying something unfortunate to the very kind seer who just helped him.

Her spirals sour, grey at the seers words.

"She shouldn't doubt herself. Da'an rarely puts burdenns on those who don't have a chance" He looks at Thistle "You are not as weak as you believe. "

"I.. oh." Realizing that it was not the insult it sounded like, perhaps. He bows, a step lower than rank strictly requires, to the Seer. "Thank you, Sir Seer."

She swallows and repeats. "A kiln. Not a forge."

"Kiln, Forge... it shed light not darkness"

"But it's a kiln. And it's him."

Art considers, and peers down at the sheet again. He checks his notes. "Fornacis, from the latin, Fornax, forno - from furnix... yes, I see it. I mean, you know furnaces and kilns and all that better than... who?"

"...oh, no. No, it isn't."

"It can't be. We're supposed to stay AWAY from him."

"It's him."

Shaking his head, muttering. Even in denial, he can't help but work out the puzzle. "The gatekeeper, no. No. Forget it, Thistle. It's fine. It was just a lark. Just for fun, right? It doesn't mean anything."

"Perhaps you can explain to me?"

Art swallows. "Sir. There is... it's an Autumn Person. But Thistle... this is my vision. You don't have to do anything. It's okay. Honest."

Art takes the sheet, and folds it, folds it in half, folds it a third time, holding it from either end.

"You can't. Sidhe can't handle banality like commoners, Marigold said."

"Autumn person? That is dangerous for some fledges. Thistle? Hold still, please."

Art pauses, watching the seer.

He has reached into a satchel

She rubs at her face with the back of her fist. She's not crying, but...

And taking out a horse shoe? The ends upward, so the luck doesn'tt pour out . His eyes look through it as if she were in a camera shot

Art considers. They have lots of horse shoes.

"Sorry." She mumbles to the lingering Never.

Schiaparelli pats her on the nose, trilling softly in what is meant to be a soothing tone.

"Child of Dreams, should you encounter Autumn's Scion, crafter against villain of null and non, fortune rise to your aid, luck favor your light above his cold shade, saved by inches, saved by a mile, to his ambitions, luck bring denial"

The dross consumed, the horse shoe fades from his hands

The other Nevers are creeping back out. Even spooked, they don't stay away long. Art takes the lighter from earlier, releasing Ochre from the flame he hid within.

The page he had been ready to tear up, slides into a pocket instead.

She closes her eyes, color seeping back into her mien as she listens to the soft chimes.

"You should avoid Autumn People as best you can. I am sure you know this already. However, IF you should again , luck may help you find a way to survive. Don't get foolhardy though. Fortune loves fools fickley"

"Thistle, um. Don't move.... for a sec..." Art caaaaarefully reaches over to try to nudge a spider who has dropped on silken thread onto Thistle's hair, onto his hand.

The seer sighs. Surely his debt to Miss Zara is repaid enough that he can have some private cosultations? She gets offended when he wards the spiders out

The spider - who might be offended to be thought of as "the spider", Octa HAS a name, is carefully places on a corner of a shelf. "There you go, little guy."

Or was it Decim? Who can tell, other than their Mistress?

Huff!

What can one expect form a mere male?

True enough.

Surely, this glowing female will devour him soon.

Thistle mumbles a thanks to the Seer, still subdued.

"My duty, Thistle. Right of Rescue- Eiluned style"

The tea IS there waiting at the door

if they'd like to take cups with them

Art murmurs thanks again, then takes Thistle's arm in a polite escort manner. "We can go to the library, or they have this wonderful Garden... I met a pooka girl here who said that there is sometimes a pirate queen who holds court on an obstacle course, and it is guarded by a lion...."

"A lion?"

Yammering on, but perhaps, a comforting chatter. "Yes! However, it was a kitten pooka who said so, so I expect it is merely a Fiona blazoned pennon, or maybe a statue, if anything."

"Makes sense, yeah." The tea helps, too.