Grace's Favor

The world was changing, and Anastasiya did not like it. She had fought two monsters in as many weeks, and her latter encounter had killed her. Of course, she was still here, since her magic had spontaneously manifested that ability upon her dying breath, when she had fallen through the sky...

A shiver ran down her spine. She hated thinking of her death; it reminded her that, for all her power, she was still very mortal. Most of her families had maxed out at three lives- did she only have two more chances? Was her life going to be cut short by the necessary evil of fighting monsters? She did not want that- did not want her life to be cut short without having something to leave behind, something to help others after she was gone. She wanted a family and love, wanted to protect others and give her life meaning. So she had gone to Grace's shrine, and knelt in prayer. She had begged for aid, so that she might learn to protect herself in ways that didn't involve her magic. She had knelt, and she had risen, knowing what she had to do. 

She had wandered along the main path leading from Faline, waiting until she found the perfect place- a small hollow in the woods surrounding the pathway, with a collection of small stones. The sandy soil was soft and easy on the hooves, and a small creek babbled not too far from it. She stepped gently off of the path, Senàn following in her wake. Looking around, her noble's mind cataloguing everything she had available for her task, she nodded. "This will do nicely," she said, a soft smile on her face. 

Senàn looked around, not seeing what she saw, the spot's innate potential. And what will this 'do nicely' for, child of fire? 

She smiled, turning around to see her wyvern, taking in his puzzled expression. "We are building a shrine to Grace. Hopefully such an act will make her more suggestible to my wish."

What is your wish, dear one? 

Her teke grabbed a few stones, laying them around to mark out what she wanted the shrine to look like. "I want to be able to live long enough to know love and have a family. I want the monsters we fight to be weaker, to stop existing altogether. I want mages to be respected, not feared, and treated no differently than other Ivratian citizens." The stony outline complete, she began to scoop the sandy soil into a bucket she had brought, and carrying it to the creek to make it wet and pliable. "But for now, I just want to be able to protect myself without relying on my magic. Getting my telekinesis in shape by building a shrine should help me be able to use weapons. I won't be able to instantly use them like a master would, but perhaps Grace will help me and give me a boost in my fighting abilities if I make this shrine well." 

For a while, Senàn accompanied her while she took loads of soil over to the creek, got it wet, and then took it back to within sight of the road, sculpting it into a thick base, with carved designs of magic and harvest, and a wide, flat top. The lower part of the base had much more clay, secured with large stones, and the top was much more sand. She worked quickly, trying to complete her work before it dried completely. Finally, when she was happy with what she had done, she turned to Senàn once more. 

"This needs a fiery touch to be finished," she said with a wink. "Care to help me out?"

Her beast nodded, and together, they released matching spouts of flame, white-hot and elegant, to solidify the structure. And it was beautiful, in a soft, rustic kind of way. A collection of stones at the bottom formed a base, held together by river mud that now had been turned to a rough form of pottery. The pottery gradually grew more transparent, until the top was a roughspun type of glass, bearing imperfections but still shining in the sunlight. Anastasiya smiled- this was truly marvelous for someone who had never really crafted much in terms of clay and glass before. Finally, she pulled two primary feathers, darkened by lightning and marred with blood, forward. Those were some of her original feathers, from her first life. Everything else had burnt away, and that was all that had remained of that Anastasiya that she had been. Bowing her head, she placed the feathers there, hoping that Grace would like her gift- the last ties to who she had been, before she had encountered Death, and a place where she could receive more offerings from travelers who might need a little extra luck. Pulling on her magic, she set the tips of the feathers ablaze, and they still did not burn- for they were once a part of her, and still were, in a way. Now, Grace would know her, would know those feathers and the pain they spoke of- the pain that had pushed her to become better, become new. 

She could only hope that Grace smiled upon her.