Come, you have much to learn. (flashback/training/solo)

[Constance]

Timestamp: Summer 21, 494 AV OOCI apologize in advance about the generic name I gave Constance grandfather. Once I think of something more fantasy sounding, I'll be changing it. The year was 493 AV, the season was Summer, the place was Avanthal, and the time was sunrise. And with the rising of most, if not every sun, Constance grandfather, John, could be found standing outside the Whitevine hold. While he stood complacently with his eyes closed, he enjoyed the little warmth that the suns rays brought to the cold land of Aventhal. The tingling sensation that came when warm sunlight kissed ones skin caused the elderly mans mind to wander freely threw thoughts of a better time. Specifically, a time when he was younger, and his beautiful wife still lived. "Today is the day, my beloved," his voice came at the thought of his wife, breaking the silence that surrounded him. Inside the hold, other Vantha were just beginning to stir from there sleep. Among them was his only granddaughter, Constance, who still found herself immersed in sleep. Soon though, it was disturbed by the gentile nudges of her father as he tried to wake her. His efforts seemed to be hopeless though, as she only continued to move further away from him, groaning and whining all the while. The loving father couldn't help but smile as his five year old daughter fought with groggy strength to stay asleep. "Wake up sleepy head... Granddad is waiting for you outside." All he got for a reply was Constance covering her head with the warm blanket and groaning a bit more. "If you don't hurry he might leave without you," he continued, hoping his words of warning would coax her out of bed. And not surprisingly, it worked. Constance threw the covers down the length of the bed, and slide over to the side of the bed, letting her feet hang over the edge. "That's my girl. Come on, I'll take you down to grandpa," he said as he reached out and took her hand into his. It wasn't too much longer and Constance found herself being lead outside into the freezing outside by the strong hand of her father. He stopped short outside the door though, then turned to look down at Constance. "Do you want to take if from here," he asked, knowing that she liked to be independent when she was able to. Looking strait ahead, she saw the blurred figure that she knew was her grandfather and said, "Yeah, thanks." Her voice was quiet, and her words were short as she still fought the haze of sleep. With those words, he let go of her hand and gave her a gentile nudge in the right direction. Reaching her hand out towards the blurry figure, she caught the hem of her grandfathers jacket. Although the tugging was subtle, the elderly man felt she was there and turned to her, a smile showing. "Good morning, Lullabell," he greeted, using the silly pet name he had given her, and then continued, "I hope you slept well because we have an exciting day ahead of us. Lets get going then, shall we?" Reaching down, he took Constance small, soft hand in his own rough one. "OK grandpa, but why do we have to leave so early," she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

[Constance]

The two of them had started walking at a slow pace down the empty street when Breanon began to speak. "Why do you think we have to leave so early," he replied to Constance question. That was one of the methods he used when he wanted somebody to learn; he tried to get them to answer the question themselves. "Is it because... you always get up early," she asked, uncertainty obvious in her voice. Her grandfather, Breanon, chuckled a little at the girls reply, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. After pausing to think for a moment, he spoke again. "No, my dear girl. Let me rephrase the question. Why do you think people that have things they need to do during the day, wake up early?" Glancing down at his granddaughter from the corner of his eye, he waited for her reply. Lifting her free hand to her chin, she thought about the question; wanting to answer it correctly this time. "Is it because they want to get the stuff done so they can play the rest of the day?" This time she asked the question with more confidence, thinking she had found the correct answer this time. If you were to translate her answer from little girl language to adult language, then it would have been something like, 'Its because they want to finish what they need to do, so they can enjoy the rest of the day without having to worry about it.' Breanon smiled at the answer and began to speak again. "Your right, Constance, its so they can finish what needs to be done. But today's case its a little different. I wanted us to start the day early so we could spend as much time as possible on today's lesson." As he spoke, the two of them arrived in front of one of the Whitevine Hold's greenhouse's. Because of Avanthal's climate, it being winter all year long, every year, the people needed to find a way to grow plant life regardless of the freezing temperatures. So the Vantha constructed greenhouses made of Icestone walls. But that alone wasn't enough; they needed a heat source. Finding that stormgem's produced enough heat to grow things, they adopted them into there system of agriculture. The combination of Icestone walls and Stormgem's as the heat source made it possible for the Vantha to grow plants of all sorts, resulting in the success of Whitevine's research. Standing just inside the entrance to the greenhouse, he inhaled the warm air, and with it, the different smell's that filled the building. "Do you smell that, Constance? Isn't it refreshing?" He asked, not really expecting an answer to the questions. But Constance blinked a few time as she thought about it. Inhaling, she too smelled the aroma of different plants mingling together in the air. But the most prominent one, was the smell of moisture. "It smells like warm water, grandpa." She stated, and she was right. Still holding his granddaughters hand, he led her down the side of the building towards a cabinet of sorts. "Yes, it does, Constance. All the plants here need both the heat and the water to grow and thrive. If they didn't have both heat and water, this building would just be full of boxes of cold dry dirt." After he finished speaking, Constance heard the sound of a small door opening, but only saw it partially. "Now Constance, listen closely, I have a lot to say and its important that you remember all of it. Alright?" There was a serious tone to his voice, and then he stood silently waiting for Constance to respond. As his words drew her interest in, she could only reply with a small nod of her head. "Alright, lets begin then." Releasing her hand and taking a few more items from the cabinet, he walked over to a large table, Constance fallowing close behind.

[Constance]

Breanon stood in front of a large table, leaning over it with his arms full of the various tools used in herbalism. Carefully setting each item down one at a time, Constance listened and counted twelve different noises, although she was unable to identify what each item was. Once everything was spread out over the table, Breanon began to speak. "Alright, Constance, this is where your learning begins. I'll do my best to teach you all that I know." Then there was a long moment of silence, it weighed heavy in the air until the older man knelt before his granddaughter and took her hands in his. "I know this is... going to be difficult for you at first, my dear girl. But--" He grew silent, thinking about what words he should use to help his granddaughter understand what he was trying to tell her. Constance tilted her head in confusion when her grandfathers words ran dry. "-- threw this, Herbalism, you will be able to help others... and yourself." After his words, he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Constance forehead, then said, "Lets begin then." In response, Constance nodded, and watched as he stood up, his attention moving back to the table of tools. "Herbalism, the study or use of the medicinal properties of plants." He began, picking up a bowl shaped tool and setting it in one of Constance hands. "This bowl shaped tool is called a Mortar. With a Mortar, you need whats called a Pestle." Then he set a pestle inside of the mortar Constance was holding. "Together, both the mortar and the pestle are some of the most basic tools you will need when furthering your knowledge of herbalism." Although Constance couldn't see the objects she held in her hands very clearly, she ran her fingers over them. Engraving the texture and shape of each tool into her mind. "Now, depending on what your trying to make, be it a poison, or a medicine, you will need two sets of mortars and pestles." Watching his granddaughter examine the tools to the best of her ability, he looked into her cloudy eyes and saw a hint of worry. "Constance, I know you can't see the tools very clearly, but there are ways to work around this, so don't concern yourself with how clearly you see them. This skill does not depend on sight alone." As if he was trying to prove this, he returned to the table and looked over the tools, picking up a second mortar and pestle. Once he found it, he held it next to the first set of tools to compare them. "You see? The one your holding is made from white marble, while the one I'm holding was made from granite stone. You may not be able to see them clearly, but one is white and one is dark. Are the color different enough for you to tell them apart?" As Constance gaze shifted between the marble mortar and the granite mortar, the contrast between the two materials registered as a creamy and a dark color instantly. Seeing that she could really tell the difference between the two items gave her eyes a spark of excitement. "Yeah I can, the colors are really different. Why do I need two though grandpa?" Knowing that the young girl wouldn't understand the concept of poison and how dangerous it could be, he decided he would answer the question for her instead of having her figure it out on her own. "Well you see, you can't mix everything in the same mortar because it could be dangerous. If you make something that's poisonous first, then you try to make a medicine to help somebody heal, then the medicine will end up hurting the person instead of helping them. The poison you made would leave a residue that would make everything else in the mortar become a little poisonous too." Constance eyes widened in amazement at the prospect that herbalism could be used to both help and hurt people. She wanted to protest and tell her grandpa that she wouldn't hurt anybody because it was mean, but his continued words muted her as she continued listening. "This is why you need one for helpful mixes, and one for dangerous mixes. We'll talk more about that later, but for now lets move on to the other tools." He took the mortar and pestle from Constance, and placed both the one he held and the one she was holding, back on the table.

[Constance]

Waiting on her grandfather, Constance took a moment to remember the rough texture of the unpolished granite mortar and the smooth texture of the polished marble mortar; trying to engrave it into her memory. In her mind she chanted the words, 'A white mortar's a good mortar, good, good, good. A black mortar's a bad mortar, bad, bad, bad.' A little tune to help her remember the uses of each mortar. Her thoughts were interrupted when Breanon turned back to Constance and spoke. "Constance, are you paying attention?" She must have looked a bit distracted, if not a little bored. Even if that wasn't the case; it was simply the way she presented herself when she was lost in her own thoughts. "Open your hands." Feeling a bit embarrassed at her accidental display of boredom, she did as he said without hesitation. Placing the item in her hands, if felt cool to the touch, and just as smooth as the marble mortar she was holding only a moment ago. "This is another important tool that every herbalist must make use of. Glass containers. Using them is one of the best methods of storing herbs." Constance looked down at it, but couldn't make very much out. The container was translucent, making it near imposable for her to identify its shape. She did run her hands over the exterior though, which helped to build a mental picture of the item. Aside from the transparent color, she could make out a darker color sitting inside the jar. "It may be one of the best, but there are still problems with it if your not careful. The most immediate problem is that it's glass, because of this, it will usually break if dropped. Also, because it's glass, it magnifies the intensity of sunlight, which in turn, makes the herbs spoil faster. And remember, if you seal herbs inside of a jar that has some moisture in it, then you'll only create mold." He paused to both catch his breath after speaking so many words, and to allow Constance some time to think over his words and remember them. She sat with a intense look on her face as she thought over her grandfathers words and the faults that came with glass containers. "Grandpa, if class containers break easily and can make mold grow, then why do we use them? Aren't there other things you could use," she questioned, expecting the elderly man to have an answer for her. And in his wise old age, he did. "That's a very good question, my dear, and your are right. There are other things we could use. I'll tell you what they are, and why I choice not to use them." Turning to look over the table, he didn't see the two items he needed. So scooting past Constance, he returned to the cabinet of tools and began looking threw them again. Waiting for him to find what he was looking for, Constance took a step toward the table and carefully placed the jar on it; not wanting to accidentally drop it and make a mess. "Ah ha, there they are," Breanson exclaimed when he saw two containers set far back in the cabinet. Picking both of them up, he scooted back over to the table where the rest of the tools sat. Holding both of them in one arm, he moved the glass jar further back on the table out of precaution, then set one of the new containers in Constance hands.