milliways_bar | (no subject)

Richard smiles and sighs in relief. He looks around and unzips his jacket to let the kitten peak out.

"Is it safe to put her down now?"

Yes.

*Yrael peers into the woods around them, thinking.*

Somewhere across from Qyrre, I would guess, is where we came out. North of Roble's Town and the Abhorsen's House. This will be an adequate place for this type of work, I guess.

He sets Chanterelle gently on the ground.

"Is there anything I can do to help, or should I back away?"

If you would keep watch, I would appreciate it. My focus will not be upon our surroundings, and it would not be wise not to have someone on guard. Alert me if anything happens that would need attention.

*He sits down upon the new green grass and scritches Chanterelle lightly behind the ears.*

It would probably be best if you were to be in human shape, Chanterelle, if you are ready to start.

She focuses on her human form and changes shape, slightly wide-eyed and breathing a little fast from the journey through Death.

*Yrael smiles at her, then quickly shifts down to his white cat-shape. He gently pads over to Chanterelle and climbs into her lap, purring comfortingly. He shakes his head once, quickly, and is suddenly wearing a bright red collar. A Charter Mage would know that the Marks flowing on, across, and through this collar are not those of binding, but of connection. Kibeth has one like it, but wears hers all the time. She chose the connection to the Charter, after all; Yrael did not. Yrael settles with his head on her knee.*

Chanterelle, I will need you to keep on hand on my back during this. It will keep you here. The other hand is to be placed against the collar around my neck. It will let us do what we need to do. Place your right hand on my back first, then put your left-hand fingers upon my neck and find my collar. Keep hold of it until you know our work is done. You will know.

Richard drops a kiss into Chanterelle's hair and helps to place her hands.

"It's no trouble, dolly. I'm glad to be here."

She nods and with Richard's help places her hands correctly, burying her right fingers in Yrael's fur and twining her left fingers around the collar.

*As Chanterelle's fingers grasp the collar around Yrael's neck, she finds herself falling into the Charter. It is dark for as far as she can see; for, in fact, she can see. The Charter is not seen with the eyes. Charter Marks, runic symbols, flash silver in the darkness. Million upon millions of them, in patterns too quick to focus on. Chanterelle can feel that these Charter Marks, these patterns are her. The Marks, though alien in their substance, are as familiar as the pattern of raised dots that make the language of Braille. She can sense that there is another Pattern close by, a different pattern: Yrael. He is there in the Charter with her, projecting a sense of reassurance that tells her not to be afraid. Dimly, Chanterelle's senses can still feel Yrael's soft fur under her right hand, still hear the distant birdsong of the forest around them.*

Relax, Chanterelle. I shall begin.

*To all outside eyes, there is just a girl sitting there with a cat on her lap, both with eyes closed.*

She gasps lightly at the sight of the Charter, unused to seeing anything in this shape and certainly not used to seeing this. She's not afraid, not really; while it's a pattern she's not used to, it's one that feels familiar, welcoming as a mother's embrace.

It's beautiful, Yrael.

She relaxes, letting him do what he needs to do. With Yrael there, with Richard standing watch, she's not afraid.

It is you, Chanterelle.

*There is a sense of searching, of seeking something out, for a moment.*

*Then, smoothly, the Other pattern begins to move in, flowing between the patterns that make up Chanterelle. Yrael, using patterns of his own eyes as a guide, finds the Charter Mark patterns in Chanterelle that define and bind her injury to her eyes. Deftly, Yrael begins rearranging the Patterns. Each group of the Pattern he halts from its whirl through the Charter pauses. Some he merely rearranges the Marks; some he removes Marks from and then adds other Charter Marks to fill the holes in the Pattern. This is all done relatively rapidly, but what is Time in the Charter? With each piece of the patterns that is restored to Yrael's satisfaction, he lets it go and sets it back into the larger pattern that makes up Chanterelle.*

*He is working from the inside out, healing her retinas, first. They are the most complicated.*

She watches the process, fascinated. It feels strange, an odd tingling sensation in her eyes, not painful or particularly unpleasant, just odd.

Richard tries to focus on their surroundings to make sure that no-one interrupts or interferes, but his gaze keeps turning back to Chanterelle and Yrael and he's very curious about what's going on. Will she look or feel different? Will there be no change on this visit? Yrael had said that it would take a few sessions, so it's hard to know.

*Yrael hums quietly as he works, deftly rearranging the Charter Marks of each piece of the Pattern. Eyes are complicated, as any part of any living thing is. Some of the pieces of melody that he hums become Charter Marks themselves, and he moves them into their places accordingly.*

*The work seems to go on forever, until at last there is a pause in the Other pattern. The Charter Mark'd pattern that makes up the Bright Shiner halts its rearranging and remaking, pausing with the air of one surveying one's own work. Then the Other pattern withdraws, the Charter Marks flowing away and out.*

It is done for now, Chanterelle.

She watches him work, fascinated by the way the Charter Marks are rearranged merely by the sound of his humming. She sits patiently, ignoring physical concerns like stiffening muscles, keeping her fingers locked around his collar as he told her to.

When he tells her it's done, she releases a breath that she wasn't even aware she was holding, and loosens her grip on his collar a little.

Now that it comes to it, she's almost afraid to open her eyes.

*The Charter Marks which are Yrael, tinged still with the acrid sense of the Free Magic, slip away. The white cat-that-is-not-a-cat opens its bright green eyes. Chanterelle loosening her grip upon the collar allows Yrael to slip free to the ground. Once clear of her, Yrael shifts once again to his human shape, sitting before her on the ground.*

*He reaches forward to gently touch her cheek. His voice sounds slightly tired.* Chanterelle, you shall still be mostly blind for a time. The inner parts of your eyes are healed; it is just that it must be given time to adjust before the outer parts of your eyes are healed as well, restoring your sight to you. Even if we had the time to continue with the healing, I would not, at the moment. Your eyes must have time to adjust, or this attempt at healing would simply undo itself.

Your eyes will feel odd for some days, as they have not been whole in a long time. When they stop feeling strange, come and find me, and we shall finish.

*He makes to stand, bright in the deepening shadows of dusk.*

Richard startles at the shape-change after such a long moment of stillness, but the smiles warmly at Yrael.

"Thank you so much for your kindness."

He kneels down next to Chanterelle.

"How are you feeling, luv?"

She nods at Yrael's words.

She smiles at Richard.

You are very welcome, Chanterelle.

We should go back. It is almost sunset, and I would rather not be waylaid by the Dead.