Come on wuss it's just a door

[poll_the_stars]

Avetlarinyarenesaar... Is currently trying to force herself to walk another few steps. She hasn't managed it, yet. Her reason for stopping was perfectly ordinary - check the address, make sure it was correct, be sure she was in the right place. She'd been quite sure, but there wasn't any downside to double checking, so she double checked. And triple checked. She stopped herself from quadruple checking, but she wanted to anyway. To - be sure that she was right. Yes. Not because she was procrastinating, or nervous, or thinking what am I going to say? She wanted to be sure that she was right.

Well. She's right. She checked three times, there's no doubt to it.

"Look," she mutters to herself, "I get it, it's scary, but deal. You are not allowed to - to -" To what? Go home? Maybe try to work up the courage later? Maybe try and avoid the shren house like so many other dragons?

It was a door. It's idiotic to be afraid of a door. Sure, there were shrens on the other side of it, but there could conceivably be shrens on the other side of lots of doors, some of them were in hiding, hair dye existed. Subtle colors existed. She could have been near shrens any number of times.

That - did not actually make her fear go away. Instead it makes her want to curl up in her little apartment and not go outside again.

Great. Okay. Stop that train of thought, it's not useful. If she stands here any longer, people are going to stare. (Is that person over there staring? Probably. Damn.) Just - door. Go. Walk.

She forces herself to walk to the door, somewhat stiffly. And then she is at the door. ... Does she knock? Does she just open it and go in? She has no idea. It's customary to knock, so... She takes a deep breath and does so. Resisting the urge to flee and teleport away (or scamper into the bushes) isn't easy, but she manages it.

Comments

[alicornucopia]

"You're welcome."

[poll_the_stars]

Smile. Stiffled ramblings about how Ehail deserves so much better.

"Bye. It was nice meeting you."

[alicornucopia]

"Thank you."

[poll_the_stars]

She waves, and the wave turns into a teleportation gesture, and she disappears.



Once home, she checks the soundproofing on her room, and finds it working just fine. Then she screams wordlessly into a pillow.

It's not fair. It's not right! She's angry and upset and wants desperately to fix it, yes the concept of shrens is awful and sad but it doesn't excuse treating shrens themselves awfully, and, and - that's guilt, that's definitely guilt. She didn't go sooner. She just - thought they were all awful, tried not to think about them, avoided the idea of them entirely.

She gets up, finds the records of her finances, and does math. She works out a reasonably sum she can afford to pay monthly and maintain. She mails that reasonable sum to the shren house in Esmaar, anonymously, and silently vows she is going to keep donating that sum. At least until a miracle comes along and cures all shrens. Which is hilariously unlikely, but hey, it could happen.

And then she retrieves the appropriate crystal, calls up her line representative, and asks about seeing some baby dragons to analyze so she can possibly fix the dying thing.

(And possibly fix the shren thing. She doesn't think she's a miracle worker, but she thinks she can make it easier for someone who is. At the very least.)

[alicornucopia]

Her line representative recommends her a clutch of malachites in Imilaat.

[poll_the_stars]

She hasn't been, but there's a teleportation circle that'll get her there fast enough. She takes it, finds the correct address, and knocks on the appropriate door.

[alicornucopia]

The door is answered by a green-eyed fellow in elf form with a baby draped over each shoulder. "Hullo. Are you that wizard?"

[poll_the_stars]

"Hello. I am, yes. My name's Avetlarin, it's nice to meet you."

(Her empathic signature sings grim determination.)

[alicornucopia]

The man is humming with tired dread. Reasonable for someone with babies. "Tovarthamik. Come in."

[poll_the_stars]

She smiles a little sadly, and does. (Sympathetic reassurance. Also, she is going to fix this.)

"Would you like me to explain what I'll be doing before I do it?"

[alicornucopia]

Nod.

A baby nuzzles him under the chin. He pets her.

[poll_the_stars]

"I suspect," she says, "that it has something to do with dragon magic. I have an analysis that'll let me see it. I'd like to analyze you and your children, and compare. It's not guaranteed to diagnose the problem, but it might."

[alicornucopia]

"If you diagnose it can you fix it?"

The second baby slides off his shoulder into his lap and turns around twice and curls up and purrs.

[poll_the_stars]

"... Probably not today," she admits. (Guilt. Sorrow. Grim determination.) "And I can't make any promises. But I swear that I will not stop trying."

[alicornucopia]

He's not really hopeful. But he says, "Go ahead."

[poll_the_stars]

That's okay. He doesn't need to be hopeful. He just needs to be the subject of her spell.

She casts it, and observes him. Yep, all magic present and accounted for, no wobbling.

She casts it on one of the babies.

[alicornucopia]

The one on his lap has a normal amount of magic, just like his daddy.

[poll_the_stars]

Okay. Well, let's try the other one, too before she gets disheartened about this angle.

[alicornucopia]

That one's got nothing.

[poll_the_stars]

She doesn't move, but her empathic signature screeches 'NO BAD WRONG NO'

"It seems," she says delicately, "I was correct."

[alicornucopia]

The malachite fellow draws both of his children into his arms.

"What...?"

[poll_the_stars]

"Your -" she points, "son, there, has all of his dragon magic present and accounted for. Your. Your daughter..."

She trails off, and looks pained. She looks at her lap. She takes a deep breath and meets him in the eyes. "I'm sorry, but she doesn't have any."

[alicornucopia]

"So you think she's going to die. But he'll be okay?"

[poll_the_stars]

Nod.

"Yes. I might be wrong, this is very experimental. It might fluctuate while they're babies." (She doesn't think so.) "I'll work on it regardless."

[alicornucopia]

"They're three weeks old," he murmurs.