Quoted By:
It began easy at first, as you turned the petals of the flower red, then blue, and then purple. Unfortunately for you though, the plant died soon thereafter. For your magic had accidentally accelerated its ageing.
Undeterred, you continued to experiment upon a variety of plant-based lifeforms. And while you weren't speeding through it as quickly as you had hoped, you still managed to discover new ways to manipulate their growth and colouration. Each failure only fuelled your determination to perfect your craft, pushing you to explore the boundaries of biomancy.
As for experimentation upon fauna, you really only had one recourse, didn't you? That being yourself, and so you began; you turned a strand of your black hair white, then red, then blonde, and then black again. You wouldn't call it shapesfitting just yet, as you couldn't do it on a whim.
Unfortunately, you also managed to give yourself a head-splitting headache, which you were only able to magically cure after a week of trying. Despite the setbacks, you were undeterred in your pursuit of mastering biomancy. The pain was a small price to pay for the knowledge gained in your experiments.
By the thawing of the ice, you had concluded that, while you hadn't fully mastered the subject as yet, the basics were yours to command.
<span class="mu-g"> With the basics of biomancy completed, Sophia can now cure minor diseases and wounds, as well as do basic cosmetic changes to things like coats, furs, hair, and eye colour. She can also accelerate and halt the growth of things like plants. Further study in this field might lead to discoveries regarding more advanced healing techniques, the manipulation of finer organic structures, and much, much more…. </span>
While you had exhausted the options for research, you were certain that you would continue your research when you had some more spare time or when peace would finally be declared. Yes, when the din of war was finally over, you would begin your research and preparations in proper.
But for now, there was a war to be won, not a struggle of good against evil, or at least not as evil as other things out there could be; the Svengalian king had made a horrible impression upon you, and you thought him a knave of the highest order, but he was an evil of the mundane kind, like the robber baron or a bandit chief. Not a second Witch-King or other dark force.
So war it was, ironic for a woman like you; you weren't an amazon, nor the queen regnant, but your magical talent made it, so Father had taken you with him regardless. There was a time when you would have baulked at it; it was so unwomanly to go to war. But by now, you had grown into the role of a special auxiliary quite well. You did not know how to properly hold a weapon, not much about tactics and stratagems, but you had learnt the last part well from your father and by peeking over the shoulder while they were planning.
