The Pathway

Warning: This post contains the description of blood and a mild mention of trauma. If you are sensitive to these topics, please read with caution.

To some, trust was a word that neither the brain nor heart could comprehend.

Why had she followed him? Edith would perhaps never find the answer to that. Samuel was a man she barely understood herself, yet gave her trust to.

Foolishly? May the sands of time whisper an answer one day.

The heel grazed her fingertips as she let go of it, her amber eyes followed the blue blur while her hand fell back to her side, I really need to work on my self-defense... Her wand was somewhere on the battlefield she had once considered to be good enough for a gentle stroll, her dress ruined with a tear and blood stains from the shoulder that Samuel had effortlessly healed. Though the sinking feeling Edith had felt but never spoke of, lingered, staining like midnight oil. Rich in thoughts that were better kept in the deepest corners of her mind, Edith usually locked with a smile. She wobbled a bit, Had I known I would be fighting for my life, I would have worn comfortable shoes instead...

Little would she know a sprained ankle should have been the least of her worries.

Edith bit her lip as she cringed at her horrifying aim, her heel missing the plant by a comically absurd distance. "Good thing I am not a professor for defense..." Her face turned pink in mild embarrassment, the sound pathetic splash of the heel falling into the body of water after hitting a rock, echoed in the momentary silence. I really need to look into training... perhaps.. Edith's unlovingly caring companion might not be too eager to help with that; he might have ended up offering his kinders as tributes instead, if she asked for help later on.

What's the point in knowing an ex-ministry employee if all he does is mope and groan?

Still, the grumpily cold Samuel was important to her, even if the regard was never really stated or... reciprocated. Edith blinked, attempting to bury her embarrassment with the defening sound of her racing heart that soon appeared to stop when she saw the plant reach for him. A vine like barbed wire shot toward Samuel's wrists, and her eyes widened, gasping, as if feeling the sting of the impact on her own wrists.

It was a blessing and a curse.

To feel what others felt as if it were her own pain, her own torment.

Tangling around in a firm grip, sinking and piercing the skin until small streaks of red appeared. She took a step in his direction, unsure of even how to help without her wand. That was until she saw him retaliate in turn, smoke filled the air as the incantation hung with precision and intent. The plant? Harmed as its green vines and body turned black, rotted by the touch of Belisama. Edith turned in time, watching the large plant coil and strike before stumbling out of the way. Like a drunken sailor attempting to show up a ballerina, Edith managed to use her unsteady maneuvering to avoid the acid that burned the grass in a sizzle where she previously stood. The one heel still on her foot did not make her evasion any more flattering.

She had just gotten her footing when the sound of what could have been the gods laughing at her clumsiness caused her to flinch. Oblivious of the roots that moved to her, Edith would not have the time to blink when she felt something wrap around her ankle. A scream echoed, mixed with the sound of something breaking. Edith felt the moss and jagged stone flooring against her skin whilst being dragged by the plant, her dress ruined. Fingertips bleeding mildly with each attempt she would make at grabbing onto something, anything.

Until she felt her fingers graze something familiar.

Immediately curling her hand around it, she hoped it was what she thought it was as she turned onto her back, May the angels have mercy... "Arresto Momentum!" The slowing incantation rolled off her lips, diverting every ounce and strand of focus on freeing herself from the plant rather than the excruciating pain she felt. Don't pass out! If I pass out, I may as well be dead... Tears streamed down her face, a million things ran through her mind.

So much left to do...

A small voice echoed in her mind while she felt her impending end near, a question she had once asked that had yet to be answered. Jaw clenched, Edith shook her head, refusing to leave with a question as her last thought, her voice boomed with a sternness that surprised even herself, "Incendio!"

For if the oil of her thoughts had to burn, so would the plant.

The pain was growing, and beads of sweat formed on her forehead as her vision dazed slightly. Her red hair turned a dark shade of brown.

So little time...

The world was dimming again, and deep down, Edith knew she had to act fast if she did not want to be the plant's final meal. Kicking with her uninjured leg, Edith began to pull on the root with as much strength as she could muster, muttering, "come on break..." She could hear Samuel's voice, though it seemed to muddle as if she were underwater.

Sinking in desperation and pain, Edith looked at the narly plant with narrowed eyes and her hand clutching her wand like a lifeline.

"Diffindo."

Slartibartfart

HP: 94 [-1250 and then some...] Destroyed
Effect: Glacius Tria (R3)

Rain slashed across the cliffside like a punishment. The wicked grey sea below crashed against the rocky shore. Inside the Augury Cloister, there was a battle. They did not have any place to go, they needed to stand their ground. But even the wind howled like it, too, wanted them dead.

Samuel’s Vulnera Sanentur pulsed warm against Edith’s torn skin, a practiced, precise bit of magic that had stopped her from bleeding out. The venom from the plant was anticoagulant; without his intervention, she'd have drained like a broken wine cask. A part of him knew that, but he would tell himself that this was not an act of mercy or sympathy, but rather an act of pragmatism.

Samuel would tell himself that he didn’t have the time, or the emotional bandwidth, for the paperwork. Too many social niceties would follow a corpse: informing families, attending funerals, offering condolences with appropriately solemn eyebrows. No, Edith was far less troublesome alive. Slightly more mouthy, perhaps. But less of a hassle.

Her gratitude was expressed by hurling a shoe. It missed the plant by a heroic margin and likely concussed a fish below, one might hope a predatory one and not a lost, confused Athanatos being washed into the caves below by the tide.

She really should’ve paid more attention in Muggle Studies. True story: Professor Galim once took down three first-years with a single stiletto. Legend. she tried to break a window, but like Edith, something went hilariously wrong, and rather than provide a passage of egress the show ricocheted off the frame and bounced off three students before landing on the floor. The heel also ended up murdering a part giant, but we do not talk about that part in front of civilized company. It was all before their time anyways.

But now was not the time for reminiscing. The carnivorous plant, a nightmarish knot of vines and fangs, was slowing. Frost crept along its thick stalks, the result of Samuel’s earlier spell (Glacius Tria), but the effect was agonizingly delayed. Freezing a killer vine eventually wasn’t helpful when your teammate was already halfway to being mulch.

And Edith was very much halfway there.

The plant's tendril yanked hard on Edith's leg, now broken and twisted unnaturally. Mud splattered over the librarian's pretty dress as she clawed at the ground, fingers sinking into the wet cliffside like she could hold back nature itself. The plant's great, salivating maw yawned wide ahead of her, ringed with barbed teeth like a bear trap designed by a sadist.

Slartibartfart had chosen her. Or maybe she was just the one who hadn’t dodged fast enough. Either way, death loomed leafy and imminent.

“Arresto Momentum!” Edith cried, wand flaring.

The spell wasn’t a perfect solution. Arresto Momentum was designed to slow things falling, not prevent something (or someone) from being devoured. Still, the charm took hold, and the librarian's body jerked to a sluggish crawl. The tendril dragging her at a rate suitable for dramatic tension but still undeniably toward doom. Still, any added time would be to her benefit as long as it did not merely prolong the inevitable.

Samuel, for his part, observed with the practiced appearance of stoic detachment, perhaps he was already composing a sarcastic eulogy in his head. But behind the quips and internal complaints, he knew: if he didn’t act now, the plant would finish its meal, slowly, terribly, and right in front of him. And then he’d really have to write that letter to Edith's mother.

Edith cast Arresto Momentum
WDC 4 (+15)

The spell, Arresto Momentum, might give her a bit more time, but she would still be eventually devoured. Samuel would have to try to cut her free, she was not going to escape on her own. Casting "Diffindo", known better as the "severing charm.' Diffindo was a spell intended to cut cleanly through non-living material, one could only hope that this spell would also slice through the fibrous vine.

Sam casts Diffindo at the plant
Wisdom 20 (no WDC)
Attack 11 (+14) Hit
Evasion 7 (+1 -6 Glacius Tria)

The point of the spell was to free Edith from the tendril before she was consumed. At this rate, she might fall head-long into a wood chipper. At the very least, it would look like Sam had tried to save her.

Samuel’s wand lashed out in a quick, practiced arc. A burst of slicing magic cleaved clean through the vine. The wet, fibrous cord writhed like a severed limb, its sap hissing as it hit the rain-soaked ground. The distal end still clung tight around Edith’s ankle like a very determined anklet, but the connection to the creature, affectionately, if absurdly, dubbed Slartibartfart, was severed.

Separated from its prize, the plant reared back with the offended shriek of a creature denied its meal. Its petals flared wide like some grotesque jungle flower mid-bloom, framing its oversized, pulsating maw. Rain splashed off Slartibartfart's waxy leaves as it shuddered, enraged in the uniquely visceral way only a carnivorous, magically animated, emotionally unstable plant could be.

And then Slartibartfart spat.

With a thick, wet fwoomp, the central bulb contracted and released a pressurized jet of acidic fluid. It hissed through the rain, a virulent yellow-green sprayed the space in front of it.

Acid Spurt targeting Edith and Samuel
Attack (Edith): 19 (+20 - 6 Glacius Tria) 33 Hit
Evasion (Edith): 17, 16 (+10) 27, 26
Attack (Samuel): 15 (+20 -6 Glacius Tria) 29
Evasion (Samuel): 17 (+15) 32

Samuel ducked just in time, the acid missed his head by inches and hit a nearby rock, which became immediately pockmarked. Edith was not so fortunate. Not yet recovered from the cruel lure and her ankle still broken, she was not able to scramble away from the acid spray. So, the acid hit her. A wet, sizzling splatter caught Edith across the side, her chest, shoulder, part of her neck. The fabric of her dress hissed and blackened, smoke rising in curls as the acid chewed through layers: cloth, skin, nerve. The rain offered little mercy. It diluted nothing. It only made it sting more.

Slartibartfart wasn’t finished.

The tendrils twitched, preparing for another strike. This time with no subtlety, no trickery, just raw, pulpy violence.

Samuel needed to finish this now, or he was going to have that corpse after all. Soaked to the bone and absolutely done with the rainforest’s botanical vendettas, Samuel cast the spell he found to be the most effective against carnivorous plant: anything involving fire. Yes, fire, the mortal enemy of forest and gardens alike.

Samuel casts Incendio Tria at the plant.
Wisdom 20 (no WDC)
Attack: 17 (+14) Hit
Plant Evasion: 13 (+1 - 6 Glacius Tria)
Damage: 1200

Samuel did not have the luxury of hesitation. If we waited, she might stab herself or fal off the edge of the cliff. So he cast the most efficient spell he knew for this specific scenario in spite of the rain: “Incendio Tria!”

Fire erupted from his chestnut wand, spiraling together midair into a roaring, concentrated lance of flame. It struck the heart of the plant with a sound like a dragon inhaling. For a second, everything turned white-hot, then orange, then smoke-blackened ruin.

The scream that came from Slartibartfart wasn’t human, but it sounded close. Leaves curled and combusted instantly. Vines shriveled to ash before they hit the ground. The central maw gaped, spewed a final useless hiss of acid, and then collapsed in on itself like a dying star.

The fire didn’t just kill it. It unmade it.

The creature thrashed once, then fell still, a steaming, crackling pile of blackened pulp. The rain turned to smoke as it met the scorched earth. The surrounding mud had turned to clay from the heat.

And it was over... Mostly. The flames would linger briefly before the rains extinguished them. But Edith was not done. She was the type to beat a dead horse, or in this class a dead salad. "Diffindo." Samuel had already destroyed the plant, this was merely overkill.

In an act of mercy or perhaps to avoid having to carry her bridal style, Samuel cast Brackium Emendo at Edith's broken bone. Samuel took a breath and steadied his wand over her shin, eyes flicking to the jagged angle of her lower leg. The bone had snapped clean, possibly fractured in more than one place. It would hurt going back.

“Brackium Emendo,” he incanted.

Samuel cast Brackium Emendo at Edith's broken bone
WDC: 20

The spell left his wand in a soft, amber glow, gentler than fire, cooler than the rain. It sank into her skin with a quiet hum, knitting bone, tissue, and tendon back together like a seamstress closing a cursed wound.