July seventh comes rolling around unceremoniously. We three disheartened warriors return to our abode, lacking any concrete progress towards our shared goal. Apparently Teuila and Dawn spent a significant portion of the day asking around for me, about Bastet, Mab, Anubis, and Oberon. Most people were cagey, elusive, or knew very little. Te and Dawn are starting to suspect similar things to what I’d thought though. If the rulers are powerful at all, nearly all that power is going to maintaining the enchantment on the forest that redirects hostile forces out of it every time they try to enter.
Another thing I suspect is that they likely use up a bit more power to mask the enchantment itself. If anyone with aura sight could see the epicenter of the spell, where its stronger origin point lies, they could head towards that, ignoring the misnavigation the forest tries to provide. This would lead them either to the Heart, or to one of the rulers maintaining the spell. Thus, spelloflage, camouflage for magic. Oh heck, that brings to mind another word. Spellophage, something that eats magic. Brr. I shudder as I imagine what sort of creature could do such a thing. Would I be more, or less vulnerable to its appetite due to my absurd mana pool across two worlds?
Wait, wait, what was that last thought train a few seconds ago? Inhabitants of the Heart are worried about hostile forces, everyone knows the Celestial Imperium expands by force at every opportunity. Everyone knows the only thing stopping the Imperium from expanding into the Heart is its magical geography, a geography and a magic that might be able to be overwhelmed if surrounded by enough force. And further, everyone knows the only thing stopping the Imperium from expanding into Aasimovia is the superstitions and fears of the Imperial troops. The ancestors, the ones wielding armor, weapons, and patrolling, whether or not they can actually fight, are the only things holding back the tide of the Celestial Imperium washing over Aasimovia.
If Aasimovia falls, the Celestial Imperium can advance on the Hidden at the Heart of the Wilds from all sides. The curse on Dawn was set in motion to bring about this exact scenario. The Celestial Emperor has been playing the long game of world domination with fierce cunning. Once he has all countries under thumb, then he’s just going to steal all their souls en masse. Crap! It’s even more important to save Dawn now. Save Dawn, save what’s left of the world. Hellspit and a half! As if there wasn’t enough pressure already to save the life of a friend I hold dear.
I whisper my belief to Teuila, not wanting to upset Dawn further, and Teuila’s sadness is palpable. She wants to have faith in me, but she’s already preparing for the worst. She’s preparing for us to lose everyone we’ve ever met on Rayileklia. She’s right to prepare. She has apparently decided to start doubling up on studying the martial mastery books I’d given her, while exercising without allowing herself use of her gravity affinity. Despite deciding to begin giving it her all and then some, to the tune of something like three hundred percent, she knows none of us can face the Celestial Emperor yet. Even if that might possibly save Dawn, we couldn’t accomplish it. It’s the only thing she can think of to try to progress towards saving Dawn though. We know that the curse isn’t tied to the Celestial Emperor though, even if he had originally empowered that high priest, allowing him to craft the spell in the first place.
I feel horrible for leaving Teuila feeling so helpless. She grabs one of the spellbooks as well, to try to study that in addition to the martial books while exercising. I hope she has better luck than me in mastering Rayileklian magic, but we’re both doubtful. Between her aura vision being different on Rayileklia, her not having the linguistic enchantment, and the amount of effort it takes to even learn a single rune when someone already has those things properly set up, it just seems hopeless. Still, I know Teuila will give it her all and beyond.
Te mutters, “I’m giving it a hundred plus a hundred plus a hundred, plus, I don’t know, ultra percent.” A familiar mantra for her when she’s psyching herself up to take something beyond extra seriously to deadly levels.
I nod in response before adding, “I know you will Te, I know you will. My beloved Wings. Before I forget, I can’t remember if I told you last night, but last night Alanea asked me to walk her home tonight. Apparently Flint had been escorting her home, and isn’t available tonight.”
Te responds with a chipper tease, “Hey nice, my Airhead making pals at the Eenookie Buddies. No worries, Dawn and I can help you escort. Unless you need some private time, eh, eh?”
I snort a laugh and roll my eyes before simply turning around, not engaging at all as Teuila waggles her brow my way. The three of us return to the Enochian Enclave to begin our day. I’ve done my best to have Lullaby be somewhat visible without being a danger to others. The glaive wants to be seen in its homeland, his homeland? I think. He wants to be seen, but he desires to travel. He sends me strong negative vibes any time I think about finding someone here that might deserve him, or want him. He’s kind of bonded to me, a bit like a fledgling dragon imprinting on its first sighted creature. Lullaby finds humor in the comparison, but there’s a tiny hint of an undercurrent of agreement.
I’m almost sad that I gave Teuila the tomes on martial prowess. They’d massively enhance my ability to fight with a polearm, and Lullaby seems like he wants to continue traveling with me. It seems a shame to not put his weapon assets to use. I just don’t really fight with anything other than my fists and spells though. A dagger occasionally, a few shots from my wrist-mounted holy-enchanted double-barreled crossbow once in a while. On a very rare occasion, a bo staff, or magic staff used as a bo staff weapon, risking cracking the magic staff. Maybe once we leave the Hidden Heart, I’ll just keep him shrunk and wear him some place safe to benefit from his travel-easing powers. He can probably exist just fine in a pouch that’s somewhere around three hundred to six hundred degrees Fahrenheit inside, right? The egg from the phoenix and roc still pours out heat, but thankfully Berinon’s durability enchantments seem to include strong insulation, so I’m not setting people on fire when I hug them or anything, as the heat appears to be trapped inside the pouch.
The lesson with Jarrah is mind numbing yet again. My throat and scaled lips will just not cooperate. I wonder if he knows Draconic, if maybe that might work better in this form. Asking if my current species has anything to do with it, as I doff my cap of illusions, he shakes his head. It seems like he could see through the illusion anyway. All Fae probably have some semblance of an ability to pierce glamors, since they use them so frequently. Jarrah might not be Fae, but he has spent a lifetime around them. Also, in some pop culture from Earth, celestials and angels have a true sight ability that reveals all falsehoods, illusions, and so on. I guess that could be how and why he’s always checking me for lies.
I curse as I once again begin coughing blood, despite us having backed off to the easiest, slowest pace for absolute beginners. Tears stream down my cheeks at my constant failure. Jarrah reminds me that even his youngest pupils take far, far longer to make any significant progress. He indicates that even if I’ve made dishearteningly zero progress so far, my natural aptitude for magic sets me apart. I don’t feel like I have an aptitude for magic. It’s taking me days per rune, though I’m nearing mastery of my third rune. I know he’s not patronizing me or lying, but I’m immensely, incredibly upset at my learning pace when under this deadline.
As I get sick of the slow speed of mastery, I attempt to forge the final three runes of the basic spell simultaneously with three different fingertips moving in dissonant concert. While I’m able to precisely control my fingertips in the subtle shaping of the runes, something else is going on inside me. By the time I finish my attempt, what had been bubbling inside me gushes forth. I vomit a torrent of blood and I’m left choking in a pained stupor.
Jarrah demands, “What the fel fires have you done this time?”
I hadn’t been intending to hide it, it just appears that I can’t not use subtle spellcrafting metamagic. Wiping my jaw and struggling to right myself, I attempt to answer, “Can’t, can’t keep taking so long, so slow to learn. Trying to learn three at once. Just, just gotta keep pushing.”
Jarrah scowls and reprimands me, “You inveterate entitled ignoramus! You’re gifted, yes, but it takes most years, decades, centuries to master a host of perfect subtle spellcraft runes. Those that try to take shortcuts end up -Dead-!”
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Fighting through the tears I growl back, “I don’t have years, I have less than a month!”
Jarrah’s scowl remains as he cautions, “I’ve permitted your multitasking tomfoolery until now, but I’m warning you! Should you try something that risky again, you will lose my tutelage! -As well- as any instructions I have from your dragon friend, and I will wash my hands of you.”
I gulp as I fearfully plead my case, “I’m, I’m sorry. I’ll be less reckless. But you understand don’t you? If the curse takes Dawn, it takes all of Aasimovia’s ancestors, the spell wasn’t even about Dawn, it’s just using her as a long-term anchor to build up the juice to rend them all to dust. When they’re gone, Aasimovia will fall shortly after. Once that’s accomplished, the Celestial Imperium will advance on the forest from all sides. It’s not just a friend’s life that hangs in the balance, though I’d risk everything even just for that. It’s no exaggeration to say the fate of the world is at stake.”
Jarrah mutters to himself for some time, not addressing my plea. I can tell he’s parsing out the truth of my statements, and what he understands about the curse on Dawn. Further, he’s deciding whether or not I’m worth trusting with the fate, and responsibility, that fell in my lap.
Jarrah admits, “We, I did not see the full tapestry of the spell. Being that it was set in motion by our manxome foe, I’m forced to agree with your conjecture.” He looses an exasperated sigh, “Hff.”
Pausing only a moment, he considers, and decides, “I still won’t accept pointless risks on your part, but I’ll do what I can to aid your learning and your cause. You must follow my instructions. Practice no more than a thousand of a single rune in a day. I’m sorry, it cannot be faster than this, not yet, perhaps not ever. Your life, it has worth, more value than the offal you treat it as, as you toss it around at any and every opportunity. Don’t forget, you can’t help anyone from beyond the grave.”
I bite my tongue from saying, “-Welll-,” since I’m technically already beyond at least my first grave. I also keep my laughter completely internal. Despite this, Jarrah’s wild gaze pierces right through me, and seems to parse my curbed humor. I worry that he will dismiss me outright for the cheek of it, even though I didn’t say it aloud. If you’re psychic Jarrah, cut me some slack, I can’t help what I think, but I don’t act on every thought that I have. I could swear Jarrah adopts a smirk that develops into a wicked grin, for only a moment.
We resume instruction for a moment before Jarrah asks, “I’m still uncertain how the first trio was permitted entry into the Heart, despite the lack of any Fae heritage amongst them. You I assume were allowed because of the weapon on your back, and your positive intentions with it. I don’t suppose there’s any chance that you have heritage that resonates with its song?”
I blink rapidly before explaining, “I, well yes actually. I’m um, when I spawned, well, before I spawned actually, on Can’Z’aas, I was an empty husk, a dying soul, broken. Fae around the Miracle Oak poured love, and love of nature into me, the verdant nature of it painted my grayed out soul green, the colors blended into a creamy green. When I actually spawned, I spawned as a cherubic changeling. I thought I was a human child for the longest time, til I met other changelings at the Miracle Oak. I didn’t know anything about my prior existence as a soul until I met them either.”
Jarrah mutters a vast cornucopia of conjectures too quickly for me to parse, despite my hypersensitive hearing. I do pick up the words, blade and song relatively close to one another though. Since it’s nearing midnight, I heave a sigh as I begin to stand.
Jarrah orders, “Bring any, and every weapon, tool, and implement you’ve ever resonated with tomorrow. We shall try a different tactic. I hate to discourage you, but you are not making any progress whatsoever on incanting. While I’m loathe to skip it, we may be able to stride alongside its path in another manner. What I wouldn’t give to have your girl Luni here for a few moments on the morrow.”
Hell, you and me both Jarrah, you and me both. Regardless, I nod, acquiescing to his orders. I’d swear that once again he smirked in response to my thoughts, but he refuses to answer if I ask anything about telepathy or psychic aptitude. As I stretch my weary muscles for a moment, I hunt about for something to clean up my messy pool of blood. At the mere thought, the blood seeps into the wood, drained until not even a stain remains. Both of us blink rapidly at the spot on the floor where my blood had been.
I’m a tad creeped out that trees around here keep absorbing my blood. Oh well, despite that, I bow to Jarrah, and, with tears in my eyes, thank him for his tutelage, “Jarrah. I’m sorry for my impertinence. I truly, truly appreciate your guidance. I hope I don’t displease you further. I. I can’t do this on my own. Thank you. I wish you a pleasant eve. Excuse me.”
I quickly wipe away my tears from my scaled cheeks as I exit the meditation room. Alanea is waiting for me as I leave Jarrah’s chamber, she looks almost giddy, yet the joy is hiding something beneath. There’s a mixture of fear and sadness. I glance back at Jarrah who gives me an understanding nod. I’m reading the situation, or at least the emotions, right. What do they mean though? Neither of them offers any further clues on the matter at the moment though. Alanea takes my hand as we descend. I’m not willing to just skip out on Teuila, even if she knows I’m walking someone home, so we stop by the gymnasium.
Te jogs over, wearing almost nothing, drenched in sweat. She calls out, “Heck of a workout! What’s up Airhead, ready to head home? Hi Allie. Dawny, Allie and Reggie are here.”
Alanea frowns and corrects Te, “Erm, well, if anything, Ali would be a better nickname, but please don’t. Um, well, what I mean is, please don’t use nicknames that is. It’s, well it’s Ah lah knee ah. Well at least, I, I mean, if that’s okay to maybe request. Err, well, I know you’re powerful, but, I prefer my name, I love its sound.”
Teuila pouts as she clasps her hands over her mouth. She apologizes, “Sure thing, sure, sorry Alanea. I’m so sorry. Are, um, can you forgive me? I really am sorry. Words are just. They. I play with them, because certain ones are hard. I’m really sorry.”
Alanea smiles and pats Teuila’s right hand when Te drops it to her side as her muscles sag in apprehension. Alanea’s forgiveness is evident in her answer, “Well of course silly. Well, how could you possibly know before we really had a chance to talk? Well, I know that maybe someone else could have mentioned it, but they probably didn’t. So, well, well it’s alright. I appreciate it. Err, well, I appreciate you. Err, well, you trying and, and, um, acknowledging my preference.”
Teuila nods emphatically, “I, yeah, I totally know err, well, totally understand how having someone mispronounce your name or use an unfun nickname can be super irritating. Sorry again. So All-, erm, Alanea, whacha doing hanging with my Airhead?”
Alanea blushes as she requests, “Well, I, um, I hear how your friends refer to you as the boss, so I was hoping I could maybe request the night, or at least a few hours, off for Reggie. To, well, um, to walk me home. In private.”
Teuila begins to waggle her brow but as I see the muscles tense I flash her a displeased look. She deflates before she has a chance to enjoy humorously teasing either of us about romantic possibilities. Sorry Te, not this time either. I doubt Rayileklia is going to house any such thing for me. Alanea has something sketchy going on with her. I don’t know how to convey that since she’s right here next to me. Oh! Jaz and Dream’s sign language.
I quickly flick my eyes towards Teuila’s left hand, then my own, to get her attention. With my left hand safely out of view of Alanea, I sign the words for weird, shady, and event, more or less. Teuila barely refrains from gasping as she reads my signs. Her brows do raise fairly high in recognition however.
Teuila nudges Dawn to fill Dawn in somewhat on something odd going on, and responds to Alanea, “Oh hey of course, my Airhead is at your disposal. Just get ‘em home before Dawn, get it? Hah, but no, seriously, just make sure they rest up before training tomorrow, one way or another.”
Alanea beams a bright smile at Teuila as she nods and expresses her gratitude, “Well of course, yes of course, thank you ms. Valkyrie.”
The three of us fight to suppress our laughter at the formality of Teuila being referred to as ms. Valkyrie. I’m biting my scaled lips hard as tears try to fight their way out my clenched eyelids. Teuila chokes on a cough to disguise her snort of laughter, and Dawn outright disappears.
I wave to Teuila as Alanea happily leads me along, continuing downward. The veneer of her joy is wearing thin though. The apprehension, sadness, and fear are building up beneath it. I’m worried for her.
I ask, “Alanea, is everything alright? I just have this sort of feeling that maybe something is wrong.”
Alanea twitches once nervously at being called out, glances around, but doesn’t answer my question as she continues to lead me downward. That was suspicious as all hell. Still, I’m not sure if she’s the one I should be suspicious of.
Alanea stops me before we exit the Enclave. There’s a sadness in her gaze as she avoids meeting mine. She begs, “If, well, if hypothetically something happens tonight. And, and, well, maybe I say certain things if they happen. Well, could, could you, please believe me that I trust you, and that I hope you trust me. Please. Please don’t, glp.”
She turns away as tears well in her eyes, and I’m left teary eyed myself. Aleana intends to betray me tonight. I’m positive. She doesn’t want to, but she’s going to anyway. When she says she trusts me, is that extension of trust indicating she knows I can overcome whatever the betrayal is? Why wouldn’t she just come to me and tell me the plan outright? Unless she’s not sure she can trust everyone in the—. Oh. It’s kind of an open building, there were assailants waiting inside the other night. The Enochian Enclave really isn’t secure in any manner. It doesn’t have guards or patrols. It’s mostly a school, and somewhat a faithless, or at least universalist, monastery. Yep. Alanea Whifflewillow is going to betray me tonight, whether she wants to or not.