#idt ill be able to do him justice but

[seivsite]

i love bachira more but i mostly write about rin n nagi currentlyHELPP listen rin n nagi r so write-able i just have infinite ideas for them while bachira is either happy go lucky or angst!

#miru’s talks! #like bachira is just some fun guy #i love him very cute #but i never seemto hsve ideas for him #idt ill be able to do him justice but #i might #TRY writing summf or him soon

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Powers and Flowers

Based on this post about a mage cursing someone with a cold. I don’t write a lot of high fantasy but it’s always so fun when I do, and I’m so glad I finished this so quickly! @sickromancer and @coughdontfeelwellcough requested this and I couldn’t resist. I originally introduced Elmrador here but haven’t done anything with him since, so I was glad to write about him again! This story has several elements that I had never tried before, so I hope you enjoy 2.5k words about colds, allergies, crying, some revenge, and a lot of mages! Feedback always welcome!

Cw: Intentional (if well-deserved) contagion if that's not your jam. It's described pretty minimally, but definitely there.

The road to the fairgrounds was crowded with merrymakers, dressed in their brightest finery. The king's birthday was cause for great celebration, and his annual birthday festival was the highlight of the year for many. Rich and poor, young and old were all making their way to the fairground gate, hoping to be among the initial entrants. Four young sorcerers, dressed in bright, sweeping cloaks, attracted very little attention therefore. They held a quiet conversation as they walked, with their hoods up and noses covered against the clouds of dust created by the crowd. Still, for the tallest of the four, the cloth was apparently inadequate protection. His steps paused, and he lurched forward into fit of roughly stifled sneezes, the third fit in as many minutes.

"Bless you, Elmrador. Are you sure you're well enough for an exhibition today? You are ill, and this blasted sun and dust isn't helping I'm sure."

"I'mb fide. Idt's only a cold, and a smball, private exhibition, and I'mb only usi'g spells I've done before. But idt's ndot like I have mbuch choice. Unless you're volunteeri’g to take mby place, Melfin?"

"No! No no no. Any other slot perhaps, but I'm hopeless at defense. You make those intricate warding spells look easy, but they totally escape me."

"Then I don't wandt to hear anymbore aboudt idt. Mbinister Pankhurst trusts these exhibitions to mbe to oversee, and I'mb ndot aboudt to disappoint himb." 

"Who are you disappointing now, Sorcerer Renata?"

The four turned to meet another cloaked figure, walking against the flow of the crowd and earning dirty looks from everyone who had to move around him. 

"Sorcerer Flint. To what do we owe the pleasure?" Ariella said, stepping in front of Elm and drawing herself up to her full height as she tried to look imposing, though she hardly came up to Elm's chest.

"Step aside, Sorcerer Laine. I wasn't speaking to you." 

He brushed her aside and she stared daggers at him, but was powerless to do anything else. No doubt she would have hexed him had she been able, but they were currently within the magic-free zone of the fairgrounds, which was almost certainly why Cassius Flint had accosted them here. 

"How can I helbp you, Sorcerer?" Elm said, keeping his voice as neutral as he could, despite the rasping squeak of a sore throat.

"You can help me by telling me why I was passed over to be part of the exhibition yet again. You manage to get your friends in every year, yet I've never once been selected." Cassius leaned against the fence beside them lazily, completely blocking Elm's path. The tide of people behind them began to flow around, earning them plenty more dirty looks, rude gestures and muttering. 

Elm tried to ignore this and remain calm. He glanced around at his companions. "The only person here today participati'g in the exhibition besides mbyself is Sorcerer Laine, and she was asked personally by the Mbinister of Gardens as I understand, so I had ndothi'g to do with idt. I'mb ndot sure whadt you're goi'g on aboudt, so I would ask thadt you mbove aside and ledt us pass."

"You don't sound so well, Renata. A little under the weather, I think. I don't imagine *you're* up to performing today. Let me take your place. You're doing defense, right? That's one of my specialties. I'll do it justice, never fear." 

Elm's eyes narrowed. "Oh indeed? I find thadt hard to believe since you copied off of anyone who would ledt you duri'g our school days, and also tried to take credit for those protection spells I sold to Mbinister Wentworth a few years bagck." 

Cassius sputtered for a moment while the other three sorcerers tittered. Elm took the opportunity to cough and clear his throat into his elbow before he continued: "The truth came oudt in the end, budt all the same, I don't trusdt you, Cass. And everyone knows you've had some bad lugck gambli'g recently. Unless I mbiss mby guess, you're only interested in exhibiti'g today for the mboney, and that simply won't do adt all. I'mb fine to exhibit today, and I have ndo quarrel with you, so I'll asgk once again thadt you steh- ehh.. hhhTEHHGGCHooo! HiihGEZSSHHoo! HIISSHHiuu! Ihhh… ihh-DJIISSHHHyue!!”

The force and suddenness with which he sneezed indicated that he'd been holding off the urge through the entire conversation, and he hunched into himself as if protecting the others from the blast. It was a miserable display that would elicit sympathy from the hardest of observers. A chorus of blessings rang out from his companions, but Cassius only smirked. Elm recovered as quickly as he could, standing upright again and readjusting his cloak over his nose.

"As I was sayi'g, stebp aside please and ledt us pass, Sorcerer Flint."

It was Cassius' turn to narrow his eyes. "If you insist, Sorcerer Renata. Although I really do wonder if you're well enough to exhibit today, especially for the king's birthday festival. It would be a shame if something happened to ruin the show, today of all days. I certainly hope it all goes well for you. But if you won’t change your mind, then I'll say ta-ta for now. I'm sure we'll all meet again over the course of the festivities."

With that he finally turned and swept away. The foursome also began to move, pushed along by the crowd once more. 

"You don't think that was a threat, do you?" Laurentina whispered, looking around anxiously.

"Not a chance. Cass is all talk. He's not smart enough to actually get away with anything. Everything will be fine," Ariella said with a wave of her hand. Melfin nodded in agreement. 

Elmrador only shrugged. "Ledt's hope so. Budt we really have to hurry ndow. The buffoon cost us adt least a quarter-hour and the earlier we gedt there, the better."

~~~

With fifteen minutes remaining before he was to exhibit, Elmrador stepped into his preparation tent for the final time. All was as he had left it the day before, aside from a bouquet of flowers that had been placed in the center of the table. He couldn’t smell anything through his blocked nose, but he appreciated the gesture, no doubt from Minister Pankhurst’s wife. He flitted around finalizing his preparations and listening idly to the Minister’s projected voice commenting on the sorcerer performing ahead of him, though he could not see what was happening. 

He had taken a simple tonic for his cold just before entering the tent, and initially it had seemed to work well, as the pressure in his head and sinuses had eased, and the pain in his throat had subsided. However, without warning, he was overcome with the insistent urge to sneeze.

“HehYEISHHuue! ESSHHuue! Gihh-HESHH'ooo! Hihh'IHHSH'shoo!!”

His nose was suddenly itchier than it had been all day. He had hardly recovered from this first bout of sneezing when the itch flared up again, even more demanding, and the fit that followed was even less relieving, for he wanted to start sneezing again almost immediately. Through watering eyes he looked around desperately for the cause of the irritation, as he knew his cold was not the sole source, even as he stifled more sneezes into his arm. His glance lighted on the bouquet on the table once more, and dread filled his chest as he studied it more closely. The bouquet was almost entirely made of lavender, hidden cleverly amongst more benign blooms. It was well known amongst Elm’s companions and schoolmates, and anyone who had ever worked closely with him, that he was desperately allergic to lavender, as it was a common spellcasting component, and its effect on him was impossible to ignore. There was no way this “gift” was from the minister’s wife.

Elm quickly chucked the vase out the door, but in the process the pollen was stirred up, flooding his face and overwhelming him like it never had before, and the sneezes barrelled out of him at alarming speed and volume, scraping his throat raw and giving him a splitting headache. He bent over at the waist, sneezing again and again and again, feeling as if he would never stop. He could hardly draw a breath, couldn’t see through streaming eyes, and his nose was running freely down his chin and onto his robes, with nowhere else to go and no sign of the flood ceasing. 

He desperately clutched his talisman and gasped out a simple incantation to try to clear his face and nose. It worked only partly, but he dare not try anything more powerful for fear of what would happen if it went awry. He managed to take a few frantic breaths as he pinched his nose, using all his willpower to keep from sneezing even for a few moments. The chime for his five minute warning sounded, and panic rose in his chest. 

He spent the remaining time trying desperately to get himself under control, with minimal success. Yet when the one minute chime sounded, he knew he would have to go on with the show, or else embarrass the king, as well as himself. He cleaned himself up with a final muttered incantation, then stepped out the door of the tent with a forceful sniffle. His effort was for naught, as the bright sunlight immediately made him sneeze, a painfully stifled pair. Still, he raised his arms and tried to smile as the crowd began to cheer, even as the irritation in his nose flared up yet again. He took a few steps forward, and with a deep breath he began his exhibition.

~~~

Elmrador’s nose and eyes were streaming once more, but this time it was due to his desperate sobbing as he sat on the ground behind the tents later that evening, surrounded by his friends who were attempting to comfort him. He gasped and hiccupped as he tried to speak, but his rage was tangible, and the mana in the air was crackling.

“H-he s-sabotaged mbe! The dirty r-rat t-tried to ruin mby show!” he cried, his face buried in his knees as he dug his nails into his palms. 

“Shh, Elm, just try to breathe. You performed brilliantly considering the circumstances. You have nothing to be ashamed of,” Laurentina soothed, rubbing his sweaty back. 

“Yeah mate, they were clapping and cheering like anything. That was one of your best shows ever,” Melfin agreed. 

“I d-don’t c-care! It was h-humiliati’g! I sndeezed the whole t-time! N-none of m-mby spells w-worked the w-way they were s-supposed to!” he sobbed. 

“A lot of them worked better, to be fair,” Melfin said honestly, earning him a punch in the arm from the sick sorcerer. “But what does it matter? The king loved it.”

“Thadt’s n-ndot the poindt! He r-ruined everythi’g! I– I’mb going to kill himb!”

The other three froze, while Elm had to give over to a sickly coughing fit from the all exertion. His friends gave each other worried looks over his head. Death threats from sorcerers were not taken lightly in their kingdom.

“Don’t say that, Elm,” Laurentina whispered, looking around with fearful eyes as his coughing quieted. “Someone may hear you! You don’t mean that.” She pressed her hand to his forehead, as if to confirm he wasn’t delirious.

“Mbaybe I do!” Elm said, albeit in a lower tone, scrubbing miserably at his nose and pushing away his friend’s hand. “I could have hurdt someone! Or mbyself! Ndo one can control their mbana properly when they’re sndeezing. He’s a fool and a villain.”

“That may be, but don’t say such things lightly,” Melfin cautioned slowly, his eyes also darting around. “If you kill him, you’ll get a scar, and be banished from the Order of Royal Sorcerers. You don’t joke about that, Elm.”

“I’mb ndot joki’g,” Elm muttered, dropping his gaze as he sniffled pathetically, fiddling with the grass at his feet. “I won’t do idt. I’mb ndot stupid. Budt I really wish I could.”

“Killing him might be a bit too far. But he needs to be punished, I agree. Have you considered other options?” Ariella whispered in a conspiratorial tone.

“Ndo,” Elm admitted with a shrug. “I haven’t thought aboudt anythi’g except how angry I amb.” He let his head fall back onto his knees with a tired yawn and a slushy sniffle. “You’re the mbastermind, Ella. Whadt do you thingk I should do?”

“As it turns out, I think I have just the thing. There’s a spell I’ve been wanting to test out, and I think Cassius Flint is the perfect target," she said with a wicked glint in her eye.

~~~

A few days later, Cassius was startled to find Elmrador waiting for him outside his lodgings. Elm saw a flicker of fear cross the shorter man's face, but Cass quickly smoothed his features into a sardonic smile. 

"Sorcerer Renata. What a pleasant surprise," he said, leaning casually against his gate.

"Good day, Sorcerer Flint. I wanted to drop by to thank you. With your help, I gave one of my most successful exhibitions at the king's birthday festival. He absolutely loved my sneezing routine, as did his guests, and paid me handsomely for it. They're requesting a similar show in a fortnight. I haven't given my answer yet, since my cold is much better now. However, you've given me a very effective method of inducing a sneezing fit, so perhaps I'll consider it."

Elmrador stared unblinkingly at the other man, daring him to reply. Cassius' Adam's apple bobbed anxiously.

"I… have no idea what you're on about. I had no part in the exhibition and no idea what you mean about a sneezing routine."

"Oh indeed? Perhaps I can jog your memory."

Before Cassius could react, Elmrador moved so they were inches apart, grasped his talisman and pressed his nose into his boutonniere, which was a large sprig of lavender. With a desperate gasp, Elm immediately exploded into a wet sneezing fit right into Cassius' face. 

“HehgESZZSH'shoo!! hehDIISSHHuue!! Gihh'HHIIHH'shoo!!”

Of course Cassius jumped back immediately, but not before being covered by the first of the spraying sneezes.

"Gods, what was that?!" Cassius yelled, scrubbing at his face. "You're disgusting!"

"That I am, and soon you will be too. I hope you don't mind, but I've been working on this projection spell, and I wanted to try it out on you to thank you for all your help. Within the hour I imagine you'll feel the effects. Oh, and good luck in your dice tournament tonight. I think you'll need it, with the nasty cold you're going to have and all. Hopefully it doesn't turn feverish. I wonder if they'll even let you play with how much you'll be sneezing."

Elmrador turned and began to stride away with a smirk. 

"Wait! Take it off, I beg you! I've done nothing to deserve this!" Cassius called frantically.

"No, I don't think I will," Elm replied, not turning. "Your cold will run its course in time, though it might last a few weeks longer than usual, or so Ariella says. If you want it taken off before then, you'll just have to talk to her. It's her spell."

"Elmrador, have mercy! You can't do this!"

"It seems I already have. Ta-ta for now, Cass. I'm sure we'll meet again in the course of time."

With that the tall sorcerer was gone, leaving a furious Cassius in his wake, scrubbing at his already dripping nose.

(Let me know if there’s any interest in a follow-up fic with sick Cassius. It would have totally changed the tone of this piece and added a lot of length, but I’ll write a separate thing if others want to see it! After all, I’ve yet to write a sick, miserable villain :)  Thanks for reading!)

#sickfic #My writing #MY OCs #elmrador renata