"Fucking shit." Yossarian quietly spat, clutching his gloved right hand with his left. He looked down at the small gas burner set up on the wooden floor, a steel capsule laying next to it.
He accidentally burnt his hand, the heat persistently pushing through the worn glove. Maybe it's time I changed my clothes, Yossarian noted, not only towards his glove but most of his other worn and dirty clothing. Yossarian seemingly finds a new hole every day in one of his clothes.
He averted his gaze back to his contraption, a gadget he decided to prep in case of emergencies. It took him the most part of the morning, starting whilst the moon goddess Selene started her descent till Helios started to set out from his golden gates.
He needed to wield and shapen some parts together, the other parts being pre-made by more experienced blacksmiths. He didn't realize how low he was on metals and parts necessary for crafting until today. He recalled losing his bag, filled with glassware, burners and more unnecessary components he needed for chemistry, a savage blow it was to his pride and abilities. This left him improvising, for the most part with his Morte, to solve his various troubles during his travels.
He aimless placed his left hand into his morte, positioned to his side and picked out two tubes containing powders of identical, grey powders. He pinched the knob off both before mixing them into the metal capsule, placing more of one than the other, before gently closing the capsule's lid.
His sweat-slicked hair fell into his eye's, their red tips blocking his view as he placed the two capsule's back into his satchel. He brushed his hair back and looked back at his work, a smile creeping on his face, it wasn't every day he made flash powder. The thought of testing some of it tempted him, yet the capsule was designed to ignite the mixed aluminium and magnesium powder for one big flash.
He lied down on the floor, ray's of warm light strung across his body, soothing his soul, from the small room's singular window. He felt the temptations of sleep and tiredness creep into his mind. Then he heard the small sounds of steps in the background.
"Are ya awake yet," Georgia yawned, pushing open the door to find a half-asleep Yossarian lying on the floor. Yossarian forced himself through the temptations of Hypnos' spell, etching himself off the floor and started tidying up the room.
"What are you doing?" Georgia questioned, strolling into the room, fingers tying up her loose and messy dark-brown hair. She picked up the burner Yossarian used, finger's brushing across the warm surface of the burner's cylinder, "What does this do?"
Yossarian, snatched it away and tucked it into his morte, before grabbing the flash bomb and flinging it to Georgia, who surprised, stumbled it in her hands.
"I made insurance, in case we needed to flee from whatever's waiting for us. The item you were holding before was a burner, the cylinder, which I'm guessing is still warm is used to condense and increase the strength of the flame to be able to loosen metal. And don't pull the pin on that, please. It took me hours to make and I especially don't want to be blinded after all that. Also, go pack, we're leaving."
Georgia quickly took her fingers from the small pin attached to the metal capsule, eyeing its features with more focus. Yossarian took it back, tucked it into a hidden sleeve in his coat, slung his morte back onto his belt and went out the door, Georgia strangling behind.
The Uncle - whose name Yossarian begrudgingly realised he didn't know -, Marianne and Deamon were already sitting in the cottage's living room, quietly eating breakfast. The Uncle noting Yossarian's dressed and ready attitude, stared at him, expectingly.
Yossarian seeing this, responded, "Georgia and I are leaving, I decided it would be best to get out, then rather solve this issue. Sorry for wasting your time."
He did a slight bow, focus switching from Marianne, then back to the uncle, attempting to indicate his purpose with his gaze to the man. The Uncle was motionless for a second before nodding in his direction and getting back to his food.
Georgia stood behind him, half-packed in shock. "What! Why we just can't-"
"I said, we're done. I can't solve this issue without guaranteeing my survival, so it's best I don't at all." He interrupted, his eye's piercing into Georgia, silencing her. He made his way to the door, Georgia slumping herself behind him.
When they were out, the door opened behind him, the Uncle came to them, holding a small wrapped package. "Some food for your travels." He indicated, giving it to Yossarian, "Thank you for that."
"It's no trouble. I wasn't sure if she would stay silent, so I decided to be safer than sorry." Yossarian replied, taking the package and handing it to a confused Georgia. "Listen I need to ask you of something."
Georgia's Uncle nodded, face hardening, ready to do what the man in front of him needed.
"Contact The Secretariat lady that visited me yesterday. Till her to find us outside the village, close to the forest in the north, around 5 kilometers out, I would say."
"Done, anything else?"
Yossarian closed his eye's for a second, mind debating whether it was worth asking or not. Then finally coming to a conclusion that it was no harm to ask, "Would you know the names of the local deities in the area?"
The man seemed, stunned for a second, before gripping his beard tightly in thought. "Mmmh, I think there's maybe two I know. Deter, the local lake diety, and the other controls some of these forests - Sompthuis, I think her name was. Can't say much beyond that. Those of us in the village don't interact with the old ones anymore. We've contacting the local party cell for any request we can handle, rather then relying on the gods."
"Thank you, that's all." Yossarian somberly replied, nodding his head. He reminded himself it was a precaution, He wasn't going to use the information, He wasn't going to rely on his powers of witchcraft. He felt his heart twist and burn, the memories of the door, that god forsaken door, insert itself into his mind.
He turned away from the man and set off in silence, Georgia, now perplexed, yet hiding it behind her bland vizard, similarly followed suit.
When they were completely out of the village, the signs of farmland in the distance starting to dwindle, and the land of the wilderness was coming into fruition, Yossarian spoke up.
"Why do you always seem to be so disinterested in everything and quiet all the time?" Yossarian blatantly questioned. He didn't know why he asked, it didn't particularly annoy him, he even found it comforting the silence and lack of response. It was a challenge to him, to try and get her to respond, but it also allowed him to vent and talk about random interests and thoughts. But he needed to shift his focus away from his memories, and this was the first thought that came out.
Georgia looked at him for a moment, her flat, emotionless eye's bleeding into his person, then she averted her gaze to the road they walked. "It's because I don't find interest in any of this," She indicated with her arms to the surrounding landscape. "I don't find interest or motivation at the my pa's place either. It kinda just seems all the same to me. The same old bland countryside, the same old animals, the same old people that would pop in every now and then at the tavern for a drink and bite before leaving the following day. Even that statue thingy has become the same old thing. I've seen everything here so many time's I just kinda got sick and tired of it all, and I'm scared that's all I'll ever see. That's kinda why I asked you to teach because what you have isn't the same old stuff around here. It's different, unique. It might bring change into my life, change I so badly desire."
Yossarian listened quietly, soaking in everything she told him. He felt for the girl. It was the same for him, for when he was younger. Yet back then he became content, content with just looking after his brother's, back in their little orphanage, back when they didn't care for what happened in the world. Georgia, she didn't have that, Yossarian reminded himself bitterly, she was alone to face the repetitive and ordinary cycle of life.
"Let's rest and wait there," He indicated towards a small clump of trees far off from the path, yet not far enough to not be noticed by anyone passaging by.
When they sat down, Yossarian looked at Georgia, who was solemnly drinking from her leather pouch. His mind tearing itself apart with contempt and sympathy, her words lingering in his mind.
"Okay, copy how I'm sitting." He sighed, crossing his legs, pushing his back straight and placing his hands on his knee's.
Georgia, her eyebrow raised, followed suit.
"This is a form of meditation. Do you know what that is?"
Georgia shook her head, confusion visible in her expression.
"Meditation is a necessary practice for witchcraft," at Yossarian's mention of the word, Georgia's eye's lit up, her mouth about to unload a torrent of questions. Yossarian held his hand up to stop her. "I'm only showing you this, while we wait. This isn't necessarily witchcraft but it helps one understand and connect to their own chakra's and the internal energy residing within ourselves." Yossarian sighed, he looked at Georgia sternly. If he was going to mentor, he might as well go all out.
"So close your eye's and shut up." Georgia, quickly did what he said, concentration evident in the burrowing of her frown and clenched shut eye's. Yossarian couldn't but laugh on the inside at her seriousness, yet he found comfort in her sudden dedication.
He felt the internal flow of his own energy, the inner connectedness between key areas of power within his body. He was ready.