Faelan told Nym everything she wanted to know about weaving the following days as she shared snippets of information she had picked up in her century-long life.

"So these three aspects of being. How do they tie into everything?"

Nym asked as she pointed to a paragraph in one of the books Faelan had brought with him.

He looked at the section she indicated. "Remember what I told you yesterday about how some people are more sensitive to teyun than others yesterday?"

She nodded.

"Right. So you have the three aspects of a being; body, mind, and soul. All living creatures possess at least two of these three components. For example, Fea and most wild animals only have a body and a mind, but humans and the other races possess all three. But these three components also translate to Weaving. A vessel, will, and source. You need a vessel—your body—to house your will and source—your mind and soul. And you need a source to channel your will through. And, you manipulate teyun through your will."

He looked at Nym to see if she was still following along.

It was dark at night, and their campfire was the only thing illuminating the wanderer's den and their surroundings.

Nym's eyes shined with curiosity. She waved her hand, indicating him to continue.

"This is where Weaving differs from sorcery. With sorcery, you impose your will directly on the teyun around you. This allows for generally more powerful magics but is harder to control and can take a toll on your will. With Weaving, you channel your will through your source and vessel and manipulate it that way. This allows for more complex and controlled magic but at the cost of either your vessel or source. If you possess a strong source, the negative effects will be less, but since I'm part Fae, you could say I was born with only half a soul, so with a weak source. If I try to create more than three or four weaves per day, it would burn me up."

Nym raised an eyebrow. "You used that term before, burning up. What exactly do you mean by it?"

Faelan chuckled. "I mean it quite literally. The sheer amount of teyun would rip apart my source, and I would burn up from the inside. It is why I always have a headache and nausea after creating a weave. It is my body taking a part of the burden so I don't die."

Nym's eyes widened.

"Are all humans like this? Why learn weaving in the first place if you can't use it?"

Faelan shook his head.

"Most humans can manage a weave or four before getting tired and feeling adverse effects. It all comes down to teyun sensitivity. A stronger source means stronger sensitivity. Take my sister for example. She is extremely teyun sensitive. She can manage at least twelve weaves on a good day before tiring."

Nym nodded, then turned her attention back to the book. "I see. So, how about your restless soul? How does that impact your weaves if your soul is tied to your source?"

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Faelan blinked, dumbfounded. "My what?"

"You have a restless soul. When you fall asleep, it is all over the place."

She didn't look up from the book while saying this.

He looked at her, stunned.

"I—what? I-I have no idea. How do you mean, 'it is all over the place'?"

She looked up. "Your soul, essence, your astral body, however you call it. Every time you fall asleep, it tries to get away. I mean, it is nothing uncommon. Most elves suffer from a restless soul, but I was curious how that would impact your weaving."

Silence fell. The leaves rustled in the late-night breeze as small embers danced up from the flames that kept them warm. The chirping and buzzing of insects filled the quiet night as Faelan wracked his brain to understand what Nym had just told him.

"You're saying you can see my soul?"

Nym raised an eyebrow. "I think it is similar to how you described being able to see teyun. But I wasn't born with it. My mother taught me."

Faelan's mouth formed an understanding, "oh."

He got up, walked over to his horse, patted it on the neck and took a book from his saddlebag.

He flipped through the pages until he had found what he needed and sat back now next to Nym.

"What can you tell me bout this?"

Nym skimmed through the page he had indicated, softly reading out loud.

"The Threads of Fate are what bind all living things together. Unlike the threads of Teyun that make up the Veil, these threads go unnoticed by Seers—as they lay beyond it. We only know of these Threads because of our rigorous study of Astral Projection, in combination with peering into the Veil to see through it. This, however, is a dangerous and potentially lethal practice of which we still do not know the limits. We still are investigating the matter, though this has proven difficult since Seers who are also astrally sensitive are hard to come by."

She paused, then read through the section again. Then she looked at Faelan.

"I don't know. This sounds more like something a seasoned astral scholar would know. I only know the basics. Though it does sound similar to a practice we elves call dreamwalking."

She handed back the book and upon further inquiry from Faelan, she explained.

==================

"It all comes down to how strong your bond is with the person you're trying to contact. It does help if the target is astrally sensitive, but it's not necessary. As long as they're sleeping you should be able to reach them."

"And you're saying all elves are capable of this?"

A dream of several nights back flashed through Faelan's mind and a chill ran up his spine.

What if that figure in his dreams had been spying on him? It would certainly complicate his mission.

"If they practice, yes. But so could you. I can teach you the basics if you want to. Since your soul is already restless, picking up astral projection should be a breeze."

Pushing down his spiralling thoughts, Faelan turned his attention back to the conversation. He placed his hand in front of his mouth and yawned.

"Sure. But for now, I think we should rest. We still have a long road ahead of us and it's getting late. I'll set up the Weaves."

Nym hesitated to agree, remembering what he had told her about what toll weaving took on him.

It didn't go unnoticed by Faelan.

He smiled.

"I'll be fine. I know my limits."

She eased up a little, realising her worries were unnecessary.

She paid close attention as he stood there, grabbing and twisting invisible strings of magic.

She heightened her senses. The darkness around her seemed to fall away and Faelan seemed to light up from the inside. A thin silvery outline formed around him. Looking closer she saw what had worried her before.

Spots of black, red, and blue interrupted the silvery lines. A tainted soul, filled with anger regret and sorrow. She hadn't given it much mind before, but now she knew the reason. A restless soul, tainted by death. She pitied the young Fae-blood. His life had only just begun.

Her attention snapped back to reality as Faelan retched and coughed. She heard him utter what she assumed to be swearwords in Ecranan as he made his way to his bedroll. He wished her goodnight and quickly fell asleep.

She observed him for a little longer before putting out the fire and following suit.