World Tree MUSH

Neviah's office is tucked away in a corner of one of the older buildings at Cambridge - somewhere in the warren of late medieval structures making up Trinity College. To walk into her office is to be met immediately by the subtle scent of herbal tea.

There's a pot of it steaming away on her desk, balanced atop a peculiar holder with a fat, short candle suspended within it for heat. Beyond the desk, the place is a world of books and lamplight, with a narrow window overlooking a cramped street. A fussy Neviah, hanging her overcoat over the back of her time-worn leather-backed chair, sighs as she begins to pour the tea into a pair of waiting china cups. "I'm sorry it's a little crowded in here," she apologizes. "These buildings were designed a very long time ago. People have become a bit larger since then."

There's another chair sitting across the desk. The desk itself is covered with a scattering of papers and books, but the most prominent object on it is an ancient-looking clay pot with a few chunks missing. Neviah glances at it before settling in with a sigh, offering up the other teacup to her guest.

Her crazy, crazy guest.

    The tea is taken gratefully. Actually gratefully is a bit of an understatement, as Morrigan sucks down a heavy gulp of hot tea, careless of the temperature as she slumps in the chair opposite Neviah's desk.
    It's rare moment, the Warlock is displaying. Not quite weakness, but an unashamed display of the woman being torn somewhere between abject shock and horror, after the fact of everything.
    "It's fine. It's fine. ... Thanks." She says in regards to the office being so crowded. It's more spacious than the van Morrigan practically lives in, that's for sure.
    Mary Contrary is here, the tiny robot familiar doing her best to console her master from where she perches on Morrigan's shoulder, running tiny fingers through midnight hair.
    "... Neviah. I." She starts to speak and trails off for a moment before drawing a rallying breath to continue.
    "I had no clue."

The tea is a fairly high-quality blend one might find in higher-quality English circles, complex and subtle and not too hot. It is probably best enjoyed slowly, though. Alas, alas.

Neviah settles into her seat, crossing a leg over the other and resting her elbows on the desk as she scoots forward. She's seen Morrigan in more than a few moods - most of them wild and adventurous and freewheeling, some of them just barely hinged, all of them endearing. None of them are quite like this.

The professor brings her lips together tightly and glances down into her teacup, then up once more through her glasses. She exhales through her nose - and then Morrigan apologizes. To /her,/ of all people.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Morrigan." She reaches across the table and rests a warm hand on the back of the warlock's, squeezing delicately.

"I do not think any of us could have known. And we are dealing with divine creatures. Beings like that are... inscrutable, are they not? To know their intentions, even if we have touched them... perhaps it is beyond any of us."

    The teacup is put down and one hand rises to Morrigan's face as the Warlock's shoulders sag. Only for her to peek through her fingers when Neviah's hand rests on her own. Morrigan sucks a slow breath through her teeth.
    She's be able to enjoy the tea much more if not for the fact that her entire world has been shaken. She's clearly been holding on by a thread, and whatever brave face she's put on for the others? The truth is cracking through it right now as the witch bites her lip hard, sharp teeth dimpling her lower lip threatening to break the skin at any second.
    "It's funny, you know?" She says, voice a hoarse whisper.
    "I spent years and years and years studying the arcane. And despite it all- despite having the potential for it, I didn't have any aptitude for a single lick of it." She says. "I was overjoyed when I found a patron willing to unlock my potential and let me wield the power that I deserved. It would just come at a small price. I had to drop everything and wander the tree. Be a ~hero~. Save worlds from threats- threats just like my very own patron- so that it could devour them behind my back."
    Voice rising upwards an octave or two, the Warlock rubs her face. "How many worlds, Neviah? How many worlds have I touched that that thing ate as soon as I left? How many? I don't know- I don't WANT to know, but I know that's the case."

Neviah presses her lips together as Morrigan unburdens herself. There is a lot to unburden.

Guilt that Neviah can only begin to understand - yet which resonates nevertheless. So many worlds have connected through her research - come together to inform her studies of one long lost. To feel responsible for the devouring of those worlds...

    /...I wonder if it's doing that for a reason...?/

The thought occurs to her before Neviah chases it away with a toss of her head, moving her other hand to join the first in clasping Morrigan's. She squeezes firmly, biting down to her lower lip. "You cannot help what was done without your understanding," she says with a shake of her head. "You did not know. In your heart, you believed you were doing what was right. That does not make you a sinner. You were /used,/ but that does not make you less of a person."

The professor's smile is small and sad. "All I know is that I would not be here today if you did not punch that queen. That was not some mysterious patron that moved your fist. It was you."

    It takes Morrigan a moment. A long moment before she pulls her hand from her face, her shinki still stroking her hair as she picks up the teacup in trembling fingers. It's a much slower sip this time that allows her to feel the calming effect of the herbal tea as she sinks into the seat even deeper while Neviah clasps her other hand.
    Another slow breath and the Warlock at least... Manages to calm by a degree, but her expression hardens.
    "I was used." She repeats. "Used just like that queen was. And who knows how many others have sold themselves to that... That *thing*." She spits. It's not a pleasant thought, just as much as the amount of worlds Morrigan has seen and visited; and how many of those are still left.
    "I need. ... I need to find a way to sever the bond. ... But if I did that..." She says, looking at her hands. "I'll be back to where I was, decades ago..."
    But then she snorts. "... That was a hell of a punch though, wasn't it?"

Neviah tightens her grip just a little more before finally letting Morrigan's hand go. Her smile remains small and sad, but with a gentle warmth behind it.

"You are a better person than that queen," she assures as she picks up her cup. "Far so. And it was a good punch! If it was not for you, I would be...."

She trails off and looks down into her tea, her reflection dancing in the ripples in the surface of the beverage. The thoughts flow together.

"...You would be like I am now," she murmurs, voice soft and pensive.

If Neviah had a divine patron, she might not have needed Morrigan's fisticuffs to save her. If Neviah had more than the most pitiful of powers, she might not have needed someone to rescue her from certain doom.

"...That's why I have been trying so hard to find out more," she says in a more distant tone, glancing at the old pot on the desk. "About the world we came from. I grew up in this part of the Tree... but the God of Abraham does not work like our magic expects a god to. I keep trying to find what I can about the divinities from our own world that may still exist...."

    It was a good punch. But relying on her fists is not something Morrigan would ever like to truly do except in a pinch like that.
    "Mmh..." She murmurs after a long beat.
    "That's a long shot." She says at length. "Our world- the way it was originally? It's been so absorbed and ingrained into the tree that it's just not what it used to be. I mean look at me. I'm a witch living out of a 19 year old van with a little robot familiar." She says patting Mary on the head.
    "You'd be really hard pressed to find our old gods. I got lucky finding something from... 'Out There' and I'm not even sure if it's from where we're from. ... I'm pretty sure it's not. But."
    Ah there's a but.
    "But if you're looking. I'll help you."

Neviah brushes her thumb over the edge of the old pot. "I think I'm getting closer," she admits. "Our world has been gone for a long time, yes... but I have found bits and pieces, here and there. I stayed in this world because of that. If I'm right, the Tree has connected this branch to ours for thousands of years - maybe even longer."

The pot has an overall Egyptian look. It would take a trained eye to make out traces of non-standard hieroglyphs still visible on it. At least, one of the depicted figures appears to be an elf.

When Neviah turns her gaze to Morrigan again, she smiles gratefully, bowing her head. "Thank you... and if I can help you find a way to break your bonds, I will do it. I don't know everything there is to know about magic, of course... but I can try."

She raises her tea for a little sip before closing her eyes. "...If it means anything," she says, lashes lifting once more, "I've been grateful for your companionship this last while."