The Tea Sorcerer
Petrification

"Petrified?"

As their conversation deepened, Garfield began to notice that Raven's face typically stayed free from expression. There was sometimes a lilt to her voice, or a sharp stab of sarcasm, and even a lift of her eyebrows, but generally it was impossible to read her. She sipped at her tea and listened to his story with a mild interest, asking questions and offering responses when needed, but she still kept unusually silent for most of their talk.

"Yeah. It was an accident, really. Tara didn't mean to upset the troll. Really, she didn't." Garfield shifted a little and nodded, feeling a strange emotion bubble up into his stomach. It almost felt like guilt? Did he feel guilty for defending Tara's actions? … No, it wasn't her fault. Not really anyway. She simply got away with the moment, that wasn't a reason to curse her.

Raven rested her empty cup in her lap and stared into his eyes, her face back to its usual, unreadable expression. "It's really quite difficult to upset a forest troll, you know. She must have done something very foolish to insult him enough to curse her."

Garfield blushed. "She's just a little hard-headed sometimes."

"That's a terrible pun for someone undergoing petrification, Garfield." There was a slight tug at her lips, as if she was fighting a smile.

"Sorry." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly and looked down into his empty cup, picking at a few pieces of the leftover honeycomb. "I know that I'm asking a lot from you, Miss Raven, but I don't want to see my friend suffer. It's not fair for her."

"She shouldn't have gone off and insulted a fairly innocuous troll then." Raven sighed and stared off into the distance, her face showing a small amount of true emotion. It was almost an expression of sadness. Her eyes darted back to his own and she crawled to her feet. "But, I suppose it cannot be helped. Your friend is under a slow-moving curse, and I am wiling to help you in this instance."

Garfield felt the question fall from his lips before he could stop it. "Why?

"Why what?"

"You said it yourself, the tea sorcerer rarely helps those that request it." He tried to make sense of the strange humming noise buzzing around his head. It felt like shame from prying too deep into her, but he couldn't stop himself from asking. "So why me? Of all the people in the world, why choose me to help?"

"Metrion trusts you."

It was that simple? All Garfield had to do was get a bird to like him? That seemed like the stupidest reason to trust someone, but he wasn't going to argue with her; she was helping him, after all. "This is all because of Metrion?"

"He's an excellent judge of character."

"Oh."

He shifted slightly as Raven bent down and took his earthenware cup from his hands, placing it in a small wash bucket to be taken down to the stream and washed later. Watching her move around her tent was somewhat fascinating to him. She was comfortable in this space, but more than that, she was comfortable around him. She let her guard down around him, in spite of his obvious and glaring faults, and even seemed to enjoy his company. Of course, he imagined that she didn't really have that much company to begin with. As much as he enjoyed Metrion and Zinthos, it was unlikely they gave her very much conversation and human companionship.

"You said just her toes and fingers have started turning to stone?"

Her voice brought him back into their conversation, and he jerked in surprise. "Yeah. It just happened last week. I tried a few other shamans and witches but…" He trailed off and looked away.

"But they were nervous about undoing a curse of a forest troll," Raven finished, her eyes unreadable again. She dusted off her midnight blue dress, and reached for a pure white apron behind her. "Forest trolls are rather pleasant creatures, but they do hold some terrible grudges. The other witches were right to stay away."

Garfield was confused by that. "So… you won't help me?"

"I already offered you my help. If that means I end up on the receiving end of a spiteful forest troll, so be it." She tied the apron tightly around her waist as she disappeared into the other room of the tent. After a moment, she returned with a thick, leather bound book clutched between her fingers. "It is not the first time I have upset a spirit, and I hardly doubt it will be the last."

"Are you sure?" He felt another wave of guilt wash over him. "I don't want to be any trouble."

"You are most certainly trouble, Garfield Logan." She set the book down on a chest that doubled at her workstation. Her eyes met his, and she offered a small, almost imperceivable smile. "But I suppose I am one to invite trouble in."

A moment of silence passed between them and he felt himself nearly drowning in her deep, dark eyes. Something strange rose up into his chest and he could feel his heart beating furiously against his ribs as he continued to stare at her. Never in his entire life had he met anyone who made him feel this way, like he drank too much wine as was left spinning on the floor. He looked away, breaking the spell between them, and tried to catch his breath. When he glanced up again, Raven was already hard at work, too focused in her own world to nice him staring.

Garfield took a slow, calming breath and sat back to watch her work.