LimeThing, 704352
(Note; his power is plant control/growth/decay. its something he has been able to do ever since he was born. Learning wizard spells and doing magic is more like a job he picked up along growing up, so I wouldn't count it as a power, more like an AU thing. I hope this is not against the rules ^^ or simply, that his plant control and spells count as his power)
Matthaios was a small-town wizard. He knew only a handful of spells, but with his delivery, charisma, and illusions he could make himself look like a mighty wizard, like a prodigy. And his natural-born gift of controlling plants only helped him make too big of a name for himself in the town of Rossico. He was far from humble, he enjoyed the cheering and laughter of dragons he entertained way too much to be humble.
This continued for a while, but was brought to an abrupt end when Matthaios got a visit from a distraught mother. Her son was bed-bound with pain and fever and she didn't have anything else left to do but to ask for help from a magician. Surely if he performs miracles on the street he can do something to help. She begged and pleaded, but Matthaios was growing more and more anxious. He spent his days pretending to be much more than he actually was, and now it came back to haunt him. The more he talked, the more the plants on his body grew, pulled, and stretched. They wrapped around his shoulders, belly, his chest. The woman was desperate, and he knew that. As the vines squeezed him, he started breathing faster. Gasping for air.
As the mother plate dragon wiped the plentiful tears from her eyes, she could finally see what was happening in front of her. She could see Matthaios for the young man that he was, still a child even, and went in to give him the warmest hug. And as Matthaios felt her soft fur around him, he started to calm down. The woman now calmly asked if there is anything he could do, and Matthaios promised to visit the boy and do whatever he can to help. His knowledge of medical spells was limited, but he packed up a few along with some simple medicine he had in a bag, and followed the plate dragon to her home.
* * *
Matthaios was sitting in his room. The visit to the sick boy left him feeling quite numb. The boy's condition was horrid and not looking like it was going to get better. He could not do anything to help, that was certain. At least not on his own.
There was a spell in his spell-book he grew to avoid. It was the first piece of advance magic he trained for months to master, and even though he could perform it perfectly it never felt quite right. But right now he needed her guidance more then ever. He laid down a small, soft hand-made carpet and lit a few candles, followed by a silent prayer. Kneeling down on the rug he chanted words of a forgotten language with a lump in his throat, but flawlessly nonetheless. And as he finished, he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.
What he would see when he opened his eyes was already very familiar to him. The transparent outlines of a different room, a glasshouse, merged over his room like a hologram. It was filled to the brim with plants of the same opacity, all with a ghostly glow to them. Only the rug and the candles seemed to not get covered by this phenomena. And right in front of him was a spirit of a plate dragon similar in looks to our protagonist. She was watering the plentiful succulents, her back turned to Matthaios. He used the spell to talk to the ghost of his mother.
He greeted her lightly, and she turned and stopped watering the plants. She immediately started small-talk, energetically asking her son about what he was up to. He answered her questions with a faint smile until the topic shifted to his wizarding job. His expression turned foul as he started explaining his situation. His mom was a great botanist known far and wide across the lands. He traveled far to escape the lands that knew her too close. So if there was anyone who could help him heal a serious sickness, it would be her. He talked about the boy's symptoms, and told his mom things he already tried to no avail. She listened, watering can still in hand, and as he was done she started thinking. As she was certain of her decision, she asked Matthaios to bring out some empty pots.
As he was moving around the room, the ghostly outlines of plants dissipated like mist and appeared again behind him. He brought a few dirt-filled pots and set them down on the rug. In the distance, he could see his mom do the same; she brought different green-filled pots and laid them next to the rug, close enough that her son could see them clearly, but not close enough for them to dissipate if he got closer. They sat down to face each other, pots before them. She would name each plant and describe them in much detail, and he would try to grow them in his empty pots with his power. She would go on to explain which parts of the plant were used to treat what symptom, and how they were to be prepared. Matthaios wrote everything down in his notebook.
As they were finished, he thanked her. He was keeping a straight face up until now, but his eyes finally started tearing up as he confessed to his mom that he really wants to feel her hug. He blew out the candles, and the misty room disappeared as if swirled up by the wind. He couldn't bear to see his mother cry too. He wiped his tears, prepared everything he could using the new-found information and headed back to the boy's house, hopeful of the outcome.
the end
