I tentatively open my eyes but the light makes it feel as if spider sculptures bent from paper clips are attempting to force themselves inside my retinas and I forecefully shut them. I decided to turn away from the sun bathed window before trying again. The light still hurts though not nearly as much. My head feels full of cobwebs and my eyes are taking longer than normal to adjust to the light, but once they do I try to take in my surroundings.

I’m in an oval shaped bed that looks entirely made of vines and is somehow not scratchy. Other than the bed, the entire room is made of wood instead of the the entire construction made of stone like in Thavim’s house. And the wood doesn’t seem like it’s been cut but rather like it was coaxed into growing into the shape that it is. If I’m going by my stereotypes from Earth, that would mean elves. But they’re at war with humans, so have I been captured?

I slowly get up and make my way towards the window to get a better grasp on where I’ve been taken. Outside is a forest canopy. Is this room on the side of a cliff? There’s no glass in the window, so I stick my head out to try and see where the place I am is situated and find out that I’m also in a tree – it’s just a really large tree. Several times larger than the entire forest below us, in fact. Guess jumping out of the window is not an option, then.

A knock from behind me startles me and I turn to find that the door to the room is already open. In the doorway is an elf(I knew it) lady dressed in multiple layers of see through green material. Oddly, nothing is visible underneath other than the other layers, so I guess at least one of those fabrics isn’t shear. The pendant around her neck is practically screaming at me. Definitely enchanted.

“Uhhh hi,” I nervously let out, “do you know how I got here? This place isn’t the last thing I remember.”

“Oh? And what is the last thing you remember?” she replies with no hint as to her intentions.

“There was a bald dwarf that used a silver bracelet to paralyze me.” I decide to just address the elephant in the room, “Considering elves are at war with humans, am I currently a prisoner?”

The elf merely stepped to the side a bit to allow a chuckling Thavim through. As he passed he paused beside the elf and held out his hand. The elf dropped a gold piece into it before Thavim closed his fist and continued into the room.

“Oy lad, yer no prisoner. Humans are just more fragile than I thought an’ we had t’ come see someone who could better fix ye back up,” Thavim offers.

I raise my eyebrow at him, “And the gold?”

This seems to have particularly tickled his funnybone as he burst into laughter and can’t get any words out. The elf from before steps forward to aid his explanation.

“Thavim and I made a bet on how you would react once you had awakened. My money was on you being calm and trusting, ignorant of the war as it seems is the case for most human children that grow untouched by wars ravages. Thavim here insisted that while yes, you would remain calm, you would also be thoroughly wary of me. This is a feat that I’ve seen seldom in even adult humans, so I’m considering the loss of money a price to see such a sight from a child of so few winters,” she explained.

Still doubtful, I continue my questioning, “Why would you help me if your race decided to kill all of mine?” This question causes a hoot to escape from Thavim’s lips as his laughter becomes more boisterous and he leans against the wall for support while holding his side.

“I was exiled long before this war started. My kin have abandoned me so I have no obligation to continue upholding their values,” she replies clearly sharper than she intended.

At this, Thavim finally seems to get ahold of himself, “Ah-ha, he, sorry lad. Allow me to make introductions. This here is Faelynn Umeqen. She-”

Faelynn cut him off, ”Just Faelynn. I was stripped of my surname upon exile. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Alvis, now that you’re finally awake.”

“Finally awake? Just how long was I asleep?” I ask with a slight panic to my voice.

“About a week, lad. Anything less serious an’ I don’t think I’d have had to call in this particularly valuable favor wi’ th’ enchantin’ Faelynn here,” and then added in stage whisper, “an’ I ain’t talkin’ ’bout her magical prowess.” He finished the whole thing off with a wink only to be cuffed on the side of the head by Faelynn standing behind him.

“Wait, what happened that put me asleep for a whole week?”

“Kirsat had a problem or two t’ take care o’ and couldn’t make it out to ye tha’ day an’ I came back earlier than planned. I spotted ole baldy tryin’ t’ leave with ye an’ took care o’ him, but then he fell on top o’ yer head an’ as I said, human children are surprisingly fragile,” he ended while rubbing the back of his neck.

“If that wasn’t Kirsat, who was it that wanted to kidnap me anyway?” I ask attempting to divert the conversation away from Thavim’s discomfort.

“Tha’ was a member o’ a cult tha’ we’d been havin’ troubles with of late. They constantly spout off ’bout a god none of us has heard of an’ how they’re bein granted powers an’ whatnot. Load o’ bullshite if ye ask me.”

“How’d they even know I was there? And how do I use magic differently than everyone else?”

Thavim glanced at Faelynn and she answers, “Your second question is likely the solution to your first.” She turns toward Thavim, “Tell me Thavim, without actively using your powers, what in this room is enchanted?”

“Without powers? Ye essentially wan’ me t’ guess, then. I imagine th’ bed an’ th’ door have their own enchants.”

“And Alvis, what items do you see in here that are enchanted?” she asks.

I point at her pendant, “Just your necklace.”

“Do you know, young Alvis, how many people of all races can pinpoint enchanted items as you just have?” She pauses as I shake my head. “Just one. You. Everyone else in known existence has to cast a spell just to tell if something is magic.”

“Oh.” My mind start racing with the applications of this. If I can remain my own, this could be quite lucrative on its own, but I’ve a feeling there’s a higher chance of being captured and used as someone’s personal appraisal slave.

“So if the word of me is out in..uhhh...the mountain I forgot the name of--"

"Saoghal Feòir," Thavim reminds me.

"Right. So if the word of me is out there, does that mean I can no longer return?”

“Aye, least not fer a while yet. Don’t fret ‘bout tha’ lad. I’ve found ye a much more capable tutor here,” Thavim turns slightly and indicates toward Faelynn with a flourish of his hand. “I did say that what ye do is closer t’ how th’ elves wield magic.”

I turn towards Faelynn and ask, “How do elves wield magic?”

“Just a moment lad,” Thavim cuts in, “’fore you start in on yer magic lessons, I mus' be goin’. Been away from th’ smith far too long but needed ye t’ know ye weren’t captured or sold. Yer dad doesn’t use words often which means he communicates in other ways an’ ye reportin’ back t’ him tha’ I’d sold ye could have a disastrous effect on...well...everythin’. Stop by the smith once ye get a handle on enchantin, maybe I’ll be able te hire ye t’ make a few things. Oh, but use a different name – maybe ‘Alfred’ er sommat.” He waved and walked out the door without another word.

Once the door is shut, I turn my attention back to Faelynn.

“To answer your question, in order for me to be able to tell if something is enchanted I would first have to cast a spell that allows me to see the enchant of any item that I focus on. This effect doesn’t last very long so I try to only use it when I think there’s more than one item to check for.” She pauses for a moment and adds, “And there’s a separate spell to identify exactly what the magic is. There are incantations for both. Neither of which did I hear you recite.”

“I remember Thavim making a sound like gravel when he lit up the blade,” I reply with my hand on my chin trying to recall anyone at all using an incantation.

“Dwarves are magical creatures with an affinity for stone. Their magic will closer resemble the sounds rocks make. Elves have an affinity to nature in general, so we have a wider variety of sounds our incantations can take, to include rocks similar to dwarves, although it differs slightly by region,” she replies having almost taken up a lecturers tone.

I suppose that means there’s only one type of elf instead of ‘tree elves’ and ‘dark elves’ and the like. Though now that I think on it, it would sound kind of ridiculous to call a lumberjack a ‘tree human’ or a stonemason a ‘stone human.’ A smith being a ‘metal human’ sounds pretty rad though.

“Can I hear what your magic sounds like?”

She takes off her necklace and kneels to set it on the floor. She then opens her mouth and the sound of the leaves of a tree swaying in the wind escapes and the pupil of her blue eyes give off a dim white glow.

“Was that a spell to tell if it’s magic?” I ask.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“That was to see the type of enchantment on it,” she replies and turns to look at me, finally eye level as she’s kneeling on the floor.

“You don’t need to touch it to do that?” I ask. She shakes her head. I extend my hand toward the pendant resting on the floor but stop just before contact.

“May I?” I tentatively ask and she nods.

When my hand makes contact with the pendant, I’m expecting a circular outline just shy of the outside of the shape of the jewel itself. What appears, however, looks like a celtic knot, the lines twisting and overlapping themselves and glowing in a pale wavy green. Plant based, maybe? I’m unsure of what each of the colors mean but I’m assuming most of them are elemental. Red for fire, blue for water, white for wind, etc.

“Does that pattern make it stronger?”

“It does make the enchantment stronger but also requires more mana to use. The enchants that require the least amount of mana are just simple circles but also don’t pack as much of a punch. It’s a balance you’ll have to negotiate at some point of whether you’d like a knockout or to inflict a thousand cuts.”

“Would it have to be in this intricate pattern or could it simply be overlapping circles?”

“As long as it’s circular in form it should work fine.”

“What do the colors mean? Is it the element that can be called forth?”

“Yes and no. The color is the element that it can effect, but it can only work with what is already present. A ring with a water enchantment in a desert could pull the water out of a cactus but it couldn’t create water from nothing.”

“Wait, what about fire? And lightning?”

“A fire enchant can make nearby fire larger and hotter and most lightning enchantments only work if both attacker and defender are wearing iron armor.”

Interesting. There may be gaps in their current knowledge that I can use towards my own enchantments.

“I was told that dwarves have to enchant items as they’re smithing but that each race does theirs differently. How do elves enchant something?”

“Just like how the nature of elves is different per region, so too are our enchantment methods. I, for instance, am rather well attuned with nature. So for me to enchant let’s say a ring, I would need to bury it in the ground, water it, sing to it, and ensure it gets plenty of sunshine while constantly having a picture of the enchantment in mind. If I waver the entire enchant will fail and I’ll have to start all over again.”

“That sounds like it takes way more time for an elf to enchant something that a dwarf.”

“Not entirely true,” she picks back up the pendant and refastens it around her neck, “I don’t have to maintain the image for several days, but for just a couple minutes each day when I go near the ring. In the end it turns into roughly the same amount of time spent on each one. Generally speaking, a dwarf can make one enchant per day and have thirty magical items at the end of a month whereas an elf can finish thirty magical items that they started on the last day of the month.”

“And what about humans?”

“Humans are pretty poor at enchanting. Sure some of them can do it, but they usually botch one in four attempts at best.”

“What method do they use?”

“Any that will work, honestly. I’ve seen humans enchanting using the dwarven method and humans using the method of some of my more Easterly kin.”

“Can anyone use any method or are some methods just easier for humans than others?”

“I suspect the latter but I’ve seen a few humans push through with learning a method that they weren’t very good with. The resulting enchants were fairly weak for that, however.”

“Can I see how you enchant something? Or can you explain how to use mana? Could you show me how you use mana?”

She holds up a hand to forestall me and proceeds to get up from kneeling on the floor.

“Let’s move this somewhere more comfortable. These rooms aren’t built for much other than sleeping,” she says and walks out the door with me close behind her.

I’m nearly jumping for joy! Magic! Real magic! And I’ll be able to use it! Man oh man, have I lost count of the number of fantasy novels that I’ll be able to live out!

Outside my room is a swinging bridge(of course there is) leading to another tree house. This bridge somehow looks not built but grown. Rather than floorboards, the floor of it is dead limbs from trees that look as if they’d naturally snapped off during a storm with the whole thing held together by vines. While I’m not terribly afraid of heights, I do much prefer not having to trust my life to where I place my feet. I doubt I’ll be signing up for a circus anytime soon and I grip the vine handholds a little too tight as I make my way across the bridge.

The inside of the next treehouse is more akin to a living room. There are bookshelves and hammocks and even a bar! Shame I’m only seven, but having your own treehouse bar still feels kinda ritzy. I had the unpopular opinion in my past life that people shouldn’t start drinking until age twenty-five since that’s when the human brain stops developing so this life is a chance to test my resolve on that stance.

Whoa. This room is absolutely littered with enchanted items. It’s making me feel a little claustrophobic with not only several items looming direct before me but also crowding around my peripherals.

“Uh, hey, Faelynn,” my voice cracks a little.

“Yes Alvis?” She was behind the bar about to make herself a drink. Guess she’s a bit of a lush.

“Is there a different room we could use? This one feels little….crowded,” I ask looking around shifting my eyes at each and every enchanted item.

Faelynn sets the bottle down with a puzzled look and stares at me for a moment before realization dawns on her face.

“Oh! Oh, yes, that might be for the best. Tell you what, how about you head back to your room and I’ll bring a few study materials to you.

“Sorry. And thank you,” I turn and beat a hasty retreat back the way I’d come shutting the door behind me breathing a sigh of relief. Never thought I’d feel relieved to step onto a hanging bridge but it almost felt like I couldn’t breath in there. I hope there’s a way to control that. Actually, not controlling it might prove crippling, so I should make that a pretty high priority.

Back in my room I groan and lean against the wall to slide down and sit on the floor. It’s just not fair! I finally get to experience magic and I figuratively choked on it. I look out the window at the sky as some dark clouds begin rolling in. It dawns on me that I’m going to have to cross that bridge in the rain at some point. And probably soon.

A light knock is followed by Faelynn pushing her way through the door before I’m able to get up, her arms just full of things she’s brought, a few of them magic.

“My apologies young Alvis. I hadn’t realized how many magic items I had acquired in one place until that moment. Actually, I suppose that would only be an issue for you, though. It was faster to grab a few things from there to bring to you than to remove everything magical though. I’ll do that while you’re familiarizing yourself with some of this stuff,” she says as she’s stacking everything on the floor. “Oh, just a moment,” she steps back out the door.

I walk over to the pile and start poking through the things she’s brought. Five magic items consisting of a ring, a dagger, a glass, and a book and quill. Additionally there’s a stack of books that are not magic and that previous bottle of liquor. Well, I’m assuming it’s liquor.

I hear her voice from outside, “Alvis, can you open the door?”

I sprang to my feet and dutifully hold the door open as she carts in a very small table and chair that had been in the previous room and sets them down under the window. She then picks up everything and places it on the table and indicates for me to come sit. As I sit she picks up the ring and gestures it to me.

“First, put this on. I should have given it to you earlier but you haven’t fallen yet,” she says with a hint of laughter in her eyes as I take the ring from her. A whispy white ring appears on the inside of the band before I start trying it on each of my fingers.

“It’s not sized for a child, so probably your thumb. Featherfalling. If it detects that you’re in freefall it should slow your descent to less than fatal. It will still hurt so don’t fall,” she says that last portion in a near singsong voice and moves on to the dagger.

“Next, I’m going to need a bit of your blood,” she says as she unsheathes a clear glass knife. “Hold out your finger.”

As I do so, she runs the edge of the blade lightly along my fingertip and a surprisingly large amount of blood flows from the cut onto the blade. She releases my hand and I immediately stick the finger in my mouth hoping to stop the blood flow or at least not stain the books.

“This knife will glow the color of attribute that you’re able to wield,” she says as the blood seemingly begins to vanish from the blade as if it’s being absorbed. And then we wait. And wait. Finally Faelynn sheathes the knife with a frown, unsheathes it and cuts her own finger. Again the blade absorbs the blood but this time only scant seconds after it begins to glow a pale green.

She sheathes and unsheathes again and holds out her hand for mine. I remove my finger from my mouth and she squeezes it onto the blade until it’s nearly covered before she lets go. I return the now slightly pale finger to my mouth and we watch in silence as the blood is absorbed with no discernible glow after.

“So can I not use magic?” I ask, disappointment nearly dripping from my voice.

“That’s the thing,” she replies, “if you couldn’t use magic at all it would have turned black.”

“Am I….attribute-less?”

She re-sheathes the knife once again and places it on the table while staring off out the window and quietly murmurs, “I wonder...” She turns on her heel and marches out of the room, clearly on a mission. In her absence I study the ring now on my thumb. It’s wide with studs on the outside. I’m grateful the enchant is on the inside of the band as I’ve a feeling the glow from it would keep me awake at night.

She comes back in not bothering to knock this time with a very sturdy looking metal box under her arm. Once she sets it down I see that it has a lock on the front of it. This isn’t a padlock like you’d see on a treasure chest in a videogame, this looks like the type of deadbolt you’d see on a vault door. She fishes a key out of her pocket and fits it into the lock before turning it four complete rotations and chants a spell in her leaf-voice and the deadbolts (plural! I didn’t even see the others before) unlatch themselves. Before she opens it she turns to me.

“Listen to me very carefully,” she grabs both of my shoulders and looks directly into my eyes, “Inside this box is an ingot that once it’s touched will glow with whichever attribute you wield. It starts off as black, so there’s no chance of false positive. Do not pick it up. It glows by rapidly absorbing your mana. If you start feeling sleepy, stop touching it immediately or you will die. I won’t be able to save you without the same thing happening to me. This ingot, until it is enchanted, is fatal. Do you understand?”

I dumbly nod, but she repeats herself, “Do. You. Un. Der. Stand?”

My voice quivers a bit, “Yes, I understand. Only touch the ingot, do not pick it up. Stop touching if I feel sleepy or I will die.”

She nods and opens it, keeping her hand on the lid. Inside is a black rectangle surrounded by shiny yellow cloth. The light in the room visibly darkens as the rectangle comes into view. If the other magic items making themselves known were akin to shouting, this is a jet engine directly inside my frontal lobe. My vision narrows to a tunnel consisting of just the black rectangle with a faint yellow outline and the only thing I can hear are my ragged breaths.

I gingerly reach out and touch it with a single finger and my vision explodes into vibrant color as the ingot cycles through every color imaginable before settling on white for a brief moment and then turning clear. The yellow cloth that was swaddling the ingot burst into flames and I yank my hand away and jump onto my feet on reflex. Faelynn slams the chest shut the moment my hand is out. I’m still hearing the roaring jet engine in my head and only now start to feel really dizzy.

I look up from the now closed chest to Faelynn who is wearing a mask of concern.

“Soo...attribute-less?” I manage to slur before the world turns sideways and goes dark.