Now, Guitian wasn't exactly a scientist, but he wasn't opposed to the idea of it, either. Especially when it concerned his own Gift, which he'd need to live with, from now on. It made sense to want to know its limits, right? He and Dilahi had hashed out all the particulars for this experiment the night before - the Blackbriar Bog was the wettest place Dilahi knew, apparently.
"We'll stay at the edge," the scuttle scale consoled Guitian from their perch atop his shoulder. "Here, where - "
"Oh, it stinks!"
"Well, what do you expect?" Dilahi harrumped, tapping Guitian's shoulder impatiently. "Now, we should find..."
"I was very tired after all of...that, yesterday, if you'll recall," Guitian said, keeping his tone as mild as possible. It was not very hard; Guitian didn't like the thought of hurting anyone's feelings. "Er - that is, I'm new to, ah, all of this. I...I do appreciate your faith, and your interest, because as far as I can tell this benefits me more than it does you. But I...I think we should set our expectations low."
Dilahi was quiet for a moment, though Guitian could feel their tail flicking through his hair. He'd learned, from observing the reptile last night, that it was a nervous tic of theirs. Well - Dilahi didn't seem to get nervous, really, but they often seemed at a loss for words. Guitian didn't mind. He hadn't told his siblings when he'd be back, exactly, and...
There was a lot to see, on this side of the Barrens, apparently.
He looked over the desolate black mire that they were approaching with apprehension.
Guitian had always thought of water as good. The Barrens were hot and dry, and he and his siblings had learned to ration their supplies carefully. But out here...the water was thick and sludgy, uncomfortably hot with a fowl scent rising from it that warned Guitian of its sinister intentions.
"Every noulicorn starts somewhere, you know," came Dilahi's voice. Guitian had forgotten that they were here, so shaken by the sight of those dead trees. In the Barrens, the vegetation usually just lacked nutrients: here, it looked like the scant trees had been infected. What exactly had the Others been doing out here? "The Grandfather Tree gives you all magic slowly, so that you can learn and adjust to it. Every ascended starts out making a piddly little light, or healing tiny scrapes. I don't know what to call your gift, not yet - but you have to use it first, before you'll be any good."
They really were at the edges of the Bog; when Guitian bent down to examine the dirty water, he realized it was mostly just small pools of more-liquid mud surrounding islands of more solid mud. He stepped his way gingerly onto a more solid piece of land, holding his tail aloft.
"Do people in the Homewood really just live here, with all of this right by?" His reply changed the subject, but he was genuinely curious, too.
"I've heard there are nouls making their homes here, too. But if you consider what it's next to," Dilahi said. "I think we still have it a lot better than you folks, out in the Barrens, of all places. You might go for days without seeing grass and leaves. It's awful out here, but the trip home is quick, and the Homewood is full of noulicorns, which means healing this place is the first priority."
"I guess I don't want to know what it looked like before, do I?" Guitian asked. "Hang on; I'm gonna - " he added, before making a quick little jump onto the next island. He felt triumphant when no mud splashed due to the maneuver.
Dilahi was right, though. Even if they went deeper into this thankless mire, Guitian knew exactly where he could find a whole bounty of resources, and a community of organized, Gifted noulicorns who could easily work together to change this awful place one day. If he and his siblings had any of Scoria's talent...
"I'm ready when you are," Guitian said, once he'd gotten his bearings. "Do you see...?"
His question trailed off because he and Dilahi'd spotted it at nearly the same time: he could tell from the firm thwack against his shoulder. A depression in the dirt of this island seemed wet and black. "I'll stand on that tree, for a better view, if you don't mind," Dilahi said, suddenly all prim and proper business again.
Guitian brought them over dutifully, and found himself smiling once he saw them all set up. They'd brought an old, soft piece of bark to scratch notes into, and it took a bit of work to get it balanced just right. "Is the view acceptable?"
"More than," Dilahi nodded. They looked out at Guitian. "...it's okay if it doesn't work. We always have tomorrow."
Guitian had known that, realistically. They wanted to know the limits of his gift: maybe it just did take a few days between uses. But it was nice for Dilahi to say it. "Y-you said it," Guitian sighed.
"I did," Dilahi replied. "And - I'm a scuttle scale of my word. I've plenty of time to help you paint, and to store it away somewhere rather more secure, this afternoon."
Guitian felt the muscles in their body relaxing as Dilahi spoke. It helped, he realized, when it came to trying to remember what all had happened yesterday. He took a few steps toward that depression, positioning himself so that he didn't block Dilahi's view - that'd have defeated their purpose, probably. There were a few moments where he tested the ground, just to ensure that the mud didn't penetrate too deeply into the soil around it. He wanted to be stable while he did this, after all.
Then it was just a matter of refocusing his attention on his breaths. It was, Dilahi had explained yesterday, when they'd been thinking about reproducing Guitian's gift, a common meditation technique. It was true: when Guitian thought carefully about the path the air was taking through his body, he couldn't help but recognize the way the Grandfather Tree's magic was flowing through him, too.
That magic was definitely stronger than it had been yesterday, ebbing and flowing in currents around his body as though it didn't particularly care what was going on in Vykeli. He supposed it didn't: he'd managed to deplete most of this gift yesterday, but here it was again - thriving.
He closed his eyes, envisioning that pathway with a little smile, and then thinking about how it might direct itself out through his horn - which was the point through which it'd channeled itself yesterday, too.
"Well done!" said Dilahi's voice, and Guitian realized he'd been too busy feeling amazed at the ease with which the gift had followed his directions to really take note of what all it had done. His body was feeling the same way it had yesterday, after using his gift then, though, with just a little remnant stream of magic trickling through it, and muscles that were all of a sudden sore, even though he hadn't done much of anything.
He did look, though, for good measure, and was pleased to find that the depression in the ground looked dry. It felt dry, too, and he moved his horn a little closer and sifted through the...well, the soil. The dry soil.
Guitian wanted to lay down for a long, long while, but he headed over to retrieve Dilahi and their supplies instead. "We...can head back now, right? Oh - soil samples?"
"I like you," Dilahi said, shaking their little head. "Yes, I'm not the fondest of the Bog either...just scoop a little into this bundle, here."
It was all over, somehow. That made it easy, and Dilahi had, too. But Guitian couldn't quite find the words to say that out loud, and he busied himself helping out instead.
"Whatever we make...I'll want to be sitting. Let's review everything we've learned first, in light of that. Could we...could we make use of your shelter?"
"You're more than welcome there, you know," Dilahi answered, making their way back up Guitian's leg to settle on his shoulder again. "I think you've earned your stay...and it's a big place, for one scuttle scale."
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