Witchazel

Witchazel is the primary alchemist of the clan, and been so heavily modified by this point that reaches right into cauldron without worry about temperature or pH. If anyone needs brews or expertise on the more scientific uses for flora and fauna she’s the one to talk to. She frequently goes out on regent gathering trips and loves having her friends tag along.

She was the first to get sick with the disease that nearly wiped out the clan. Leanan hypothesized that her brewing caused her increased susceptibility, but Witchazel is tormented by the secret belief that she actually caused the illness.

Witchazel would love to open a tea shop, selling her health-oriented (and delicious!) concoctions. The only thing holding her back is the flavors. Surely they can’t be as bad as everyone says.

Witchazel has always, always known she would be an alchemist. Born just before the big boom in alchemy, she grew up idolizing Baldwin. Her childhood was spent shoving random plants and items both in a caldron and in her mouth (it helped to really get a feel for the true essence of the reagents!) Even though she was just a journeyman brewer, she was hired on the spot during an alchemy conference because Leanan valued relentless passion and drive. Leanan saw a little bit of herself in the young skydancer, and Witchazel became one of the few people in the clan Leanan genuinely liked on a personal level. Joining a new clan was lonely experience for her because she had to spend most of her time out gathering materials, attending seminars, or training with a master brewer so she never really had time to make friends. Her unintended isolation was broken when she discovered that Plama was an excellent study companion even if they were researching different topics. It was so nice to have someone to sit with in quiet companionship.

Witchazel’s friend-making ability exponentially increased when she realized that people actually enjoyed coming out on her ingredient gathering trips. She started inviting anyone who gave her any sort of attention to come with, and quickly got to know most of her clanmates. She may have gotten less done when others tagged along, but it was worth it to learn so many fascinating things about the others. She still went out alone, and it was on one of those trips that she found her feline companion. She’d been quite full after a successful trip, tasting each of the items she’d found as she’d gathered them, and had laid down for a nap. She woke up with her new friend sleeping on top of her and promptly named her Mushroom for the black caps of the dwarf mushrooms she’d found earlier.

The day she discovered that Baldwin turned into a bogsneak was the worst. She’d always admired the Pearlcatcher for his passion and skill, building up a generation of brewers following in his footsteps. Seeing him turn into a different breed, and then seeing others follow, felt like they were the chosen ones and she’d been left in the dust. Not enough of an alchemist to be transformed. xxx “What did I do wrong? Do I not spend enough time at the cauldron? I can understand Baldwin, but why those others? What makes them better than me?” xxx Privately, she thought those others weren’t better, rather they were just more unsafe in the lab. If she started to be a little more lax in her safety precautions or left old residues to sit around longer than necessary, she never mentioned it to anyone except to insist more strongly on privacy.

Alchemy could be used for anything! What was medicine but a form of alchemy without all the most interesting bits? Nobody liked taking medicine though, and Witchazel wanted people to like her creations. Making teas would be just perfect. They’d have less powerful health benefits that way, but they’d be more popular and people would drink them more often. xxx Witchazel looks on eagerly as Suzuran’s face twists up and she convulses slightly. The elegant wildclaw tries to discretely spit her tea back in the cup, but it just dribbles awkwardly from her mouth. “My dear.” Suzu chooses her words carefully. “I have no doubt about the health benefits, but the flavor…” xxx She’d given Suzuran a delicious ginger-flavored black tea that would help boost clarity. Witchazel didn’t understand why Suzu had such a negative reaction. She’d taste-tested it during the development process, and it was pretty good if she said so herself! But she got the same response when she sought a second (and then third and fourth) opinion, though others were less discrete in their distaste. Why didn’t anyone like it?

The sickness was subtle. It started as general fatigue, then chills, then periodic numbness. She didn’t approach Leanan until it had progressed to full body aches. xxx “It’s very strange. While it’s expected that you’d have different epigenetic markers depending on the tissue type, I’m seeing a subset of DNA sections active across all parts of your body. They don’t track with any identified genes, in fact in most adults these sections silenced in all tissues.” xxx Leanan’s confusion was not reassuring, but her promise to keep an eye on the problem was. Over the next few months, Witchazel went in weekly for multiple biopsies as she progressed into permanent nausea, disorientation, and hot-flashes. Leanan tracked the changes, absolutely convinced that the epigenetic changes concert across her entire body were the key to what was happening. The day she dropped a very light rack of tubes was the herald of the end. An emergency full body scan revealed that the aches were symptomatic of her muscles loosening from her bone structure, that the numbness and disorientation were caused by degradation of her nervous system, and that her basement membrane in all tissues was slowly discomposing. Witchazel was slowly liquefying within her own skin. xxx “I’m going to save you. Somehow. I don’t know how yet, but I’m putting you on bedrest with constant monitoring. Don’t give up yet. I can solve this.” Leanan insisted with the fervor of someone who wanted to believe something to be true. xxx Witchazel went quietly, giving up her walks, her brewing, and her privacy. Alchemy was known to cause mutations. She secretly wondered if she had done this to herself, chasing her desire to transform like the others. Perhaps this was what she deserved. In desperation, Leanan proposed cryostorage to keep her alive until a cure could be found. Three days before her big freeze, Miyazaki came in to complain of dizziness, full body aches, and numbness. Can an alchemy-induced sickness be contagious? She wrestled with her growing fear, and guiltily brought her unspoken hypothesis to rest with her in her cryopod.

Waking from freezing was disorienting, but Leanan’s brusque bedside manner was a welcomingly familiar. She couldn’t seem to keep track of her limbs though, knocking over the water glass by her bedside and fumbling it multiple times trying to pick it up. Her disoriented proprioception was answered by Leanan handing her a mirror. Staring back at her was a bogsneak. She was a bogsneak. Finally, an avatar of alchemical competence. The thick, stocky limbs and sturdy body was so different from her old, skydancer self. The wings were short, she’d never be able to fly the way she used to. The sense of her own magic was dampened. She flicked her head fans down and back up. She felt amazing. xxx “I couldn’t save you as were. I had to start over, but I transferred everything that mattered.” Leanan pins her with s serious stare. “You were very nearly dead. I think you got the worst of it because of your brewing. I’ve taken the opportunity to add a bunch of dermal resistance modification for things like pH, absorptiveness, and temperature. Hopefully this body will be less liable.” xxx Witchazel didn’t even care that she was technically a child again. What does it matter in the face finally having a body that fits your soul? Leanan should have asked permission before adding modifications for her skin, sense of smell, and temporal sense, but Witchazel couldn’t be bothered to care. They’d help. Whatever. She was a Bogsneak. She spent a shameful amount of time in front of mirrors during the next few months.

Nearly everyone got her disease. Nearly everyone. She’d almost killed all her friends. Barring a few exceptions, Leanan would have to transfer everyone to new bodies. Was this really all her fault? Surely not. Surely. But it haunted her that she might have caused the mysterious illness that ravaged the clan. In her selfish desire to be blessed with the same mutation as the master brewers, she’d instead nearly caused the destruction of everyone she cared about. She never told anyone her secret fear. If she did, surely they’d kick her out. She’s ruined so many lives – Wethom mourns the loss of her element, Hirluin will never find fulfillment in a child of her own, and Cemlyn’s newfound hatred burns quietly behind his eyes. Witchazel was sick with guilt and tried to tell herself that an illness caused by alchemy cannot be contagious. Sometimes she almost believed it.

Cairnstone Rest was such a downgrade. Of course they had to move. Of course Witchazel understood the necessity, but she wished she didn’t get stuck with such a barebones brewing setup. Gone were distillation condensers, gone were the extractor columns, gone was carefully curated collection of tubes and beakers. All of was left behind in the Shifting Expanse. She was back to having the setup of an untrained apprentice – less even! xxx “Its…fine. My skill as a brewer doesn’t depend on my equipment. I can work with this. I’ll just think of it as a challenge…” xxx For someone who had been dreaming of the fancy setups her masters’ had, it was just a kick in the teeth. Bishop had been promising better equipment for months and now she was left with even less.

Maybe she should give up on her dream of owning a teahouse. The tea she gave the still-sick others was very poorly received. They choked it down because of the healing properties, not because it tasted good. Even though it did taste good! (…to her anyway.) How is she going to make teas that other people want to drink if everyone thinks the things she likes are gross? Maybe she need to cater to popular, bland taste?

Leanan really had made her a durable powerhouse. All those skin mods mean that she didn’t need gloves or PPE anymore. She could just reach right into the cauldron and pull out whatever was in there. Even if the burner was still goint, she hardly felt anything even if was still boiling. She’d discovered that she really enjoyed freaking out more safety conscious alchemists. It was so much fun to attend a conference or brewing session and then just shove her claws straight into their cauldron to stir things around. The looks on their faces! She was always very careful not to laugh, instead maining her Entirely Serious Brewer face. The jealous looks she got from other bogsneaks when she talked about her modifications were the best.

When the element surge rocked through the clan during the second sojourn in Dragonhome, Witchazel thought she was unaffected. She thought she was unaffected until her projects started destabilizing during the brewing process. Apparently she had absorbed the elemental magic too, but unlike the others it hadn’t found an outlet and was still contained within her. Slowly the magic she absorbed had been leaking off of her and causing havoc with her alchemy. She has been beside herself at the perceived destruction of work, upset to the point of asking Leanan to give her a new body. Again. However, being part of Bishop’s little magic club finally paid off, because he was the one who created her crystal to absorb the excess magic. Instead of the magic sinking into her project, the orb would absorb all of it. The caveat being that once she was free of the magical radiation Bishop wanted the charged crystal back.

Hired: 9/24/2015
Patient: 0