Since Dirge, Lullaby’s sister was brought up, Lullaby is trying to send feelings at me in order to describe her. She’s something along the lines of a bec de corbin, mixed with a bardiche, mixed with a lucerne hammer. Essentially she’s a long-poled battleaxe warhammer. A ferocious sounding weapon to be sure, for anyone with the strength to wield her. I struggle to find a way to let Lullaby know that I need some time to think and process my own feelings without having more layered on top of them for a moment. The glaive is all too happy to keep sending waves of emotion at me though, in regards to its arrival in its ancestral home. Hm, his arrival I suppose. I shouldn’t dismiss the identity of anyone, even if they are technically inanimate. I’ll do better.

I draw another ragged breath as I right myself and glance around. Dawn rushed ahead to trade barbs and blows with ‘Boss’, Teuila. Percival is almost caught up to the two of them. Phinarel is waving over his shoulder without looking back as he wanders away into the city. I’m, well, I’m lost. Emotionally. I just need a few minutes to process Lil not being here. We’re going to have a whole city to explore, a real, full-on capitol city of a hidden nation of Fae. If life itself were an element, tied in some way to nature, here would definitely be the place to learn about it. I’ve a tiny shred of hope that such a thing might offer a solution, or at least a clue to a solution about Dawn’s situation.

My genre senses are screaming at me that I’m destined to fail Dawn. They shout that even if I learn what the solution could be, that I won’t be able to master it in time to save her. I have to drown out the horrid self-doubt voice pounding such thoughts deep into my psyche. I can’t give up hope. Dawn seems like a whole new person, truly enjoying life. Maybe this is who she always was, before her curse that led to decades of boredom in isolation. Before friendship betrayals led her to retreat from everyone, and hide her own identity. I’d like to be able to say that, no matter the outcome, we’ll always have these wonderful memories of her happiness to cherish, but that’s just not true. The curse has the potential to wipe Dawn’s entire existence from all memories.

Alright, just keep drawing this rune as we walk around for now. Get its execution down by rote, and speed up the process vastly. Okay, whew, kind of light headed now that I’m at eleven hundred. Is drawing the rune itself somehow taking more energy to do than the calories it takes to move my finger, wrist, and arm? I wonder if there’s sort of a rune limit comparable to my Can’Z’aasian energy slash mana limit. By five hundred runes, I started suffering physical effects, drastically. I became sluggish, and it became all that much harder to focus or continue. At a thousand runes, well, attempting my thousand and first rune, I straight up passed out. Is my safe limit five hundred runic actions per rest period?

Hm, it sounds like a lot, but then one recalls that most spells take thirty three runes to activate, unless exceedingly simple. The leading rune that describes which runotype tables to look at, the sixteen digit runoform code that basically sets up an array of references within that series of tables, then the sixteen rune code that points at specific sets of series of runes within those tables. It’s like modular programming honestly. The leading rune is sort of like importing a dll or a java library or python function. The advance sixteen are like loading various functions to be able to call from within that loaded library. Finally the other sixteen are sort of like objects that can have multiple functions assigned to them in order of activation. Bluh, why do I know so much about Fakeworld, Earth’s programming languages all of a sudden?

Anyway. Then even the simple spells can have power modifiers, basically runes that duplicate or triplicate the previous runes, to enhance the scale or power of the effect of the building spell. Now, do those count as a single rune, or count as re-drawing the previous thirty two runes or so? Genre senses feel like it would be the latter. So if I wanted a third tier version of a regular complexity spell, I’d craft thirty three runes, craft a duplication rune which would repeat the thirty two active runes, basically another thirty three, then I’d craft the duplication rune again, for another thirty three. Crap on a cracker. I can basically only cast five of such spells before I’m hamstrung.

Still, I haven’t exactly spotted anyone using actual spells in combat. Miza’s spells didn’t rely on runotype depiction as far as I could tell, but she casted while speaking draconic, which might be able to form runes just within its alien brainmelting hissing sounds for all I know. Dippy didn’t seem to cast any spells, except when using his petrified wood wand. I already know that wands can contain the series of instructions for a spell, or a small number of spells.

I do wonder how Dippy managed to convert feeling an enhancement spell, into learning how to cast a version of that spell. It’s like, his body and mind was ready to learn another spell, and he just hadn’t picked out which one it would be yet. When one was offered that meshed with his abilities, he was able to instantly grok it. Grok? Ugh, is that more Fakeworld stuff? Slang for understanding or something. Okay, okay, whatever, anyway, back on task.

My point was that while magic might be somewhat common on Rayileklia, spellcasters forming runes in the air are anything but. Is my limitation a fledgling compared to practitioners of magic? Am I on par with a child, having only lived for about a month? Am I on par with a learned magician who has been studying from youth to adulthood, due to having led an entire previous life filled with magic? Where does five hundred runes per rest stand comparatively? Can I do five hundred one now without suffering effects, after having pushed myself so hard for a day? Will there be a linear growth in capability and capacity?

Ugh. I wonder if the Enochian Enclave has any of these answers. I wonder if I want to know what the answers are. How crushed would I be if it turns out that even young Fae magicians are five, ten, fifty times as capable and capacitive. I don’t think I have an overwhelmingly massive ego, but I do have some pride, enough to cause me a slight bit of vanity, and some occasional hubris.

Teuila calls out, “Hey Airhead, look at this! Bushes along the path are just mad with nuts and berries. Mm, fresh, and delish. Oh wow, it’s already starting to grow back. Sort of.”

Teuila pokes at the tiniest hint of a bud from where she’d plucked a nut that appears to be a walnut. That’s not the sort of plant a walnut comes from according to my Earth memories, but here we are. She is right though. It seems like food and lodging really aren’t an issue around here at all. Homes and food are literally growing for the community at all times. Teuila seems to snag a few handfuls of berries to eat in the moment, then she drops a host of the nuts into one of her handy spice pouches. Seems like she rearranged the potions to take less space, so now she’s occasionally dipping walnuts into something that looks like powdered carob or cacao. That’s a creative, and tantalizing use for that pouch. Yum. How did she even think to- Oh, right. She got hooked on sweets back at The Brook.

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I wonder if we can get some sort of mount to haul the carriage here. Or would they not use animals as beasts of burden at all? Would it be upsetting to even ask? What about asking for directions? Or gathering places, or community events? I’ve a funny feeling we won’t be seeing fliers posted around anywhere in a nature-nurturing city such as this.

As we continue to approach the Hidden Heart proper, the enormity and population of it is astounding. It has to be the size of Manhattan Island, maybe larger, and easily as densely populated. I thought having a few thousand people crammed into a couple dozen square miles back home around the Miracle Oak settlement was a dense living arrangement. This is something else entirely. The trees must reach right up to the permanently acidified, lightning-streaking clouds, but beneath such dense canopy, not a drop of drizzle reaches the forest floor below. It’s almost as if there’s an enchantment over the whole forest that protects it from the endless storm. Oh, there might have to be. Otherwise how would the treetops survive the constantly arcing lightning?

Regardless, most of the trees are massively wide, and have hollow segments spaced a fair few meters apart, only ever taking about half of the trunk, at alternating sides or angles. It looks like a city of jenga towers in some ways. Nearly all the homes contain at least one or more beds that seem to be carved right from the heart of the trunk. Those beds are usually also home to a bed of moss that looks like a fairly pleasant mattress. Similarly, glowshrooms seem to glow in the corners of most of the dwellings, if not all of them. In all the hustle and bustle, with the endless glow of the fungus, I could imagine calling the Hidden Heart the city that never sleeps.

Teuila pushes the cart from behind rather than pulling it from the fore. She’s probably taking it as an excuse to get some exercise in, since she had been cooped up for almost a week. I smile back towards my beloved Wings, and she flashes her own glee towards me in return. It melts my heart and I mildly swoon as I sigh contentedly. I suppose I should stop ogling Teuila while she alternates munching and crunching nuts with pushing the carriage. I’d better find us a direction worth heading in.

I begin asking for directions from passersby as we approach the great throng of people that seem to endlessly mill about the city proper. I start, “Hello, pardon, okay no problem, sorry, pardon me could, okay, nope. Hello there, cou-. Nope, no worries. Is anyone free enough to stop and chat for a moment with travelers? Anyone at all that can teach us about the city?”

I’m constantly brushed-by and ignored. Despite everyone’s friendly outward appearance, they all seem very point, or goal, oriented. If they have a walking partner, they chat as they walk to wherever they’re headed. If they don’t, they just head out with their head down. No wonder Lil found and mostly stuck with one group of people. Even Dawn’s joy at the novelty of the place is starting to be worn-down by the tiresome procession of people.

Everyone pauses as illusory figures appear over the city like giant holograms. A literal goddess, Bastet, addresses her people, “Today we honor the Enochian Enclave for its involvement in driving back the recent corruption. To note, its three surviving, founding, senior members kneel before you, our people. Jarrah Bettergrove, your small order has earned its place in the history of the Heart. Alanea Whifflewillow, you are a true aspirant of your cause, but remain vigilant of your own aspirations. Keep them from trampling others. Flint Darklace. Koff. You are also a long-surviving member.”

I stifle a chuckle as this nurturing goddess avoids complimenting an individual. He must be something else entirely to warrant such lack of praise. I bite my lips and peer around at my party, none of them appear to be laughing as they’re caught up, entranced by the illusionary spectacle.

Bastet pauses as she appears to make eye contact with every single person living in the city. She continues, “Our people, our wonderful, free people. May you ever remain so. Cast about in joy and merriment this day, and all others, but especially this day of celebration. My partner, Lady Mab is as always at my side, she echoes my wish for your joy and safety. Lord Anubis and his partner Lord Oberon also wish you long, prosperous lives.”

I choke on my own tongue. Bastet? Anubis? Mab and Oberon? Mab is, is, is queen of the Fae, of, of the mists of Avalon. She’s, I think maybe she’s Titania, but she also might be queen of the winter court? Agh there’s so much conflicting lore and pop culture from Earth flooding my head. Anubis, a literal god of the dead is just some hierarchical figure amongst the Fae of the Hidden Heart? Phinarel mentioned something about the Seelie and Unseelie courts. Are they divided into hetero pairings, ruled over by a respective cultural pair? Or are they separated by apparent gender? Bastet spoke as if she were speaking for everyone, and her illusions are certainly powerful enough to create multiple figures. So why weren’t any of the other three there to voice their own affirmation of her message?

That definitely smells of some sort of Fae politics that I want nothing to do with. Do those people actually hold the powers they do in Earth’s stories though? Anubis could be the answer to Dawn’s problem. Earning a favor from Anubis could prove difficult however. To say the very least. Mab is known to be more capricious. If we could catch her in a charitable mood, she might very well have the power to help Dawn as well. Ugh, I do not relish the idea of having to navigate Fae-court politics in a way where I have to pick a side, and hope it’s the right one to earn Dawn’s survival.

What if I choose the wrong Fae court? What if I pick Bastet and Mab, and even if I end up on their charitable side, they simply don’t have the power to stop Dawn’s curse? Would it be better to try to side with Anubis and Oberon? The two are more likely to have a specific power relating to souls, but both are infamously hard to please, and rarely willing to grant favors without steep prices. By steep prices, I’m talking things like eternal servitude as a custodian of a temple, or guardian of a gate. Hell’s bells this is rough. Or what if it ends up being a waste of time, because the entire extent of their powers is Bastet’s illusions? If that were the case, all the politicking would end up eating into time I could have spent researching magic to try to free Dawn from her curse myself.

It might actually serve us better to have Dawn and me working one side of the court, while Teuila and Percival joins the other side. Maybe this Jarrah Bettergrove and his Enochian Enclave members will have some advice about the Fae courts. Hm, what’s this? Oh interesting. If you desire someone’s location, and you know their name, with aura sight, the city itself grants you a minuscule glowing path. Thanks for filling me in Lullaby. In that case, we now have a course, let’s head for the Enochian Enclave.