After that turn, we walked into the market plaza. Huge skyscrapers reached for the ceiling and billboards littered the area at every turn. A lot of them held similar biomancy messages, advertising the varied applications of biomancy. A lot of the other billboards featured undead.

One vampire was showing off in a long black dress decorated with dark feathers that floated elegantly behind her. The ends of the dress were more like an aura, engulfing the backdrop of wherever she went. Then, with a show of defiance and bravery, the woman stepped out into the light of day, sun shining on her skin. The cloth wrapped up around her, protecting her from the sun and allowing her to walk among the living. The text appeared underneath her.

Dead in body, alive in soul. See the blue sky once more.

Gothic Clothing, The Daylight Collection.

“Lots of adverts here,” I noted.

“Yeah, well, even the undead aren’t free from advertisement,” he muttered after a huff of his pipe. “Everyone gets ‘em on nowadays, even on their oracle.”

“Oracle?” I asked.

“Yeah, I got three adverts the other day, all about herbs and such.”

“What’s an oracle?”

“What? You don’t have an oracle?” He asked looking truly astonished. “Where have you been for the past ten years?”

“Deep side,” I answered.

“And they don’t have oracles down there? Jeez.”

Darvin dug into his sweatpant pockets and yanked out a small hand-held mirror. It seemed large, about the size of a human’s hand, and looked comically big in the halfling’s grip. It had an ornate golden edge and a silver back.

“This is the latest in magical enchantment technology, behold the Oracle!” The man said proudly holding up the mirror to my chest.

The silver mirror glowed and showed me ariel visions of Asrin City, ranging from the top of the Asrin Tree to the surface world, to the underground regions of down-side and deep-side.

“Isn’t it amazing! I can ‘call’ anyone. ‘Calling’ by the way is like this magical messaging system where I can see them in the mirror and they can see me in the mirror. And also, there’s this thing called a ‘forum’ which is really cool but really weird. It’s all just words, but it’s left there by random people and the connections…”

The halfling rambled on as I stared into the mirror. I’d seen magic mirrors before but never one this… dead. Sure it showed me things, but most magic mirrors had some sort of personality or sentience.

“Interesting…” I mumbled as I cast a fifth-tier analysis spell on the thing.

“What?” The halfling asked.

“This isn’t a magic mirror,” I stated.

“Well of course not! This isn’t some ancient mage device. This is an oracle, made for the modern man who doesn’t have time to learn ancient incantations and shit! It’s cost-free magic!” He yelled. “How awesome is that!”

I looked at the mirror for a second and smiled.

“No such thing as cost-free magic,” I replied.

“Nope! All I gotta do is hold it for thirty minutes and it’s back to full power! No cost!”

I ignored the man and walked forward through the plaza, heading in the direction of city hall.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing,” I answered. “Thanks for showing me the way here. Have a good day.”

“Wait wait wait, how is my oracle not cost-free magic?” he asked.

I looked at the halfling and just considered walking away, but something told me he’d just follow me around and convince me to tell him anyway if I didn’t relent now.

“Magic always comes at a cost and generally that cost is mana. You’re not a mage, so you barely notice the constant drain that device has on your mana pool.”

“It’s taking my mana?”

“Yes. A small but constant drain. It’s probably powering whatever higher spirit feeds it with information.”

And then some. This was definitely a mana siphon, taking more than it needed as payment for using it.

“I don’t mind then. What else is in this thing though?”

I again considered not answering the question but again, I knew the bastard would pester me if I didn’t.

“C’mon, you’re a mage, can’t you tell me a thing or two about it?”

“Magic mirrors tend to have conscious spirits enchanted within them. Your oracle doesn’t. It only has a few memory, calculation, and messenger spirits inside of it, meaning all it can do is retain information and communicate for information from another source.”

The halfling blinked at my comment and I took that as my chance to escape.

“Wait! What about-”

“Goodbye,” I said firmly, heading off to the city hall building in the distance.

“Yeah, see ya around guy! And remember, for any future biomancy services, go to Delilah’s Limbs and Cosmetics! Whether pleasure or needs, she has it all!”

I didn’t respond and just walked faster. I heard him yell at another man’s genitals in the distance.

Asrin really was a weird city. Back when I had first got here, I hadn’t had time to explore it all and had only spent a day looking around before the Celestial Order picked me up. Most of the information I knew about this city came from books and stories of traveling strangers. I doubted even the residents knew it in totality.

The city hall building was small, at least compared to the giant building that neighbored it. And it wasn’t just next to an Asrin root, it was built around the damn thing. The giant pillar of root and magic seemed to pierce through the center of the building. I’d seen a few live roots before, even in deep-side they were present, but I’d never seen one up close.

It radiated magic like a stove and small glowing mushrooms decorated its sides, illuminating the thing like a pillar of winding light piercing through the ceiling. It was magnificent.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“First time seeing a root up close, eh?” Someone asked.

There was an elf standing by the door of the city hall. The elf was bald and fronted a mutton mustache that spread out from either side of his face like a bird’s wings. He wore suspender pants and a button-up shirt with a brown bowtie.

“Yeah,” I replied, glancing at him and then back to the root.

“Mhm, it really is a sight to behold, isn’t it? And the strange part is that this is a branch root of a branch root. The main roots would swallow up the entire district with its width.”

“And the mushrooms?” I asked. “How do they manage to attach themselves to something so powerful?”

“Oh, they’re not. The mushrooms are only there because the Great Asrin Tree allows them to be. It ignores them.”

“Ignores them?”

“Oh yes. It knows they are there and leaves them be.”

My ears flickered in astonishment for a moment. Magic always intrigued me. There were infinite ways to cast it and infinite potential for growth. But it was always amazing to see the natural form of it. Complex magic, not made by man but by nature, something beyond mana units and study.

“Here for city hall?” The elf man asked me.

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“Well then come right inside, we’re not too busy at the moment,” the elf replied as he strode into the building.

I walked in to find the building mostly empty. There were a couple of possed brooms sweeping the grounds and a free-floating duster diving through the furniture, but aside from that, there was no one.

“We don’t get many visitors these days. We used to back before oracles became a thing but now we have one main magic mirror and it completes all necessary functions online. Honestly, I’m surprised to see anyone in person these days.” The old elf stated.

I nodded, still staring at the area around me. My eyes wandered around the room until they came upon the root. A giant pillar of wooden flesh that was found at the center of the room, acting as a roundabout hallway for the building.

I looked and saw a giant mirror ingrained into the pillar flashing with multicolored lights and magical buzzing. It flashed with information and I could sense a large concentration of magic running through the medium and into a higher intelligence, a spirit of some sort.

I looked quizically at the root for a moment, before it suddenly came all together.

“The tree,” I muttered.

“Yes,” the old man nodded affirmingly.

“This much magic?” I questioned.

“It is a lesser Yggdrasil after all, a small seed from the real thing,” he answered.

“I thought that was just a myth,” I replied.

“Oh no no no. My ancestors were there when it was first planted ages ago. It is a seed from the original article, I assure you.”

I stared at the thing with breathless awe.

The real Yggdrasil was a metaphysical concept. It was both real and non-existent. A tree that grew worlds. It held the Asrin Realm as a leaf hovering on a branch. It wasn’t real in the physical sense, but it was absolutely real in the arcane one. You could feel the damn thing every time you cast. Elemental spells drew from the ground of the tree and through the roots, pulling at the raw materials of existence and commanding them into the physical realm.

Gods lived in the outer branches on the largest of leaves, the celestial realms. My Goddess herself, Archina, was nothing more than a spider weaving her webs between the branches of the World Tree.

“I don’t believe it,” I mumbled.

The old elf chuckled at my skepticism.

“It is a hard truth to see,” he replied.

“Are there any journals on this? I’d love to see the research if you-”

The old elf shook his head lightly.

“This is no magic of man, boy. It’s not something that can be proven by us mortals.”

In other words, it was all local superstition. Got it. I nodded my head in respect, choosing not to test his beliefs.

“Now what can I do you for?” The elf asked me.

“Oh… uh, I’m here to register for citizenship,” I replied pulling out the papers from my cloak.

I handed them over to the elf and he scanned them for a second, merely glancing at each page, then nodded.

“Seems to be in order,” he mumbled, heading back behind the counter and reaching for a small orb that sat to his side.

Now this intrigued me. The magic mirror was a common thing for mages but a magical orb was different. It was complex and personal, and a sign of a successful mage.

I watched as the elf laid his hands on the orb for only a moment. The orb flashed with information and so did the magic mirror on the back.

“Can you insert your preferred mana frequency here?” The elf asked, holding the orb out to me.

I nodded, attuning my magic to a certain metaphysical vibration that only I knew of. The orb glowed and my hand glowed with it, growing warm for a still moment before dimming back to mere glass.

I smiled.

“Beautiful ain’t she?” The elf asked me.

“She is,” I replied. “How much was it?”

“Oh, I’d rather not say. It was a purchase back from my adventuring days,” the elf said with a light blush.

“A costly purchase, even back then,” the elf mumbled.

“A few million dollars?” I guessed.

I did dabble in a little enchantment work and an orb this complex would go for tens of millions nowadays, but considering the elf’s age, this was probably purchased a few millennia ago. Mages were stricter then, choosing to rely on only themselves and no other magical focus.

The fall of The Lord of Bindings had corrupted most magical equipment during the great war of Light and Darkness, giving a great fault to all mages. It was said that the ancient technologies pioneered by that lord had fallen with him and that he had dropped from the world tree and into the swamp beneath.

Back then, almost all enchantments were holy by nature. Mortals didn’t dare to manipulate enchantments by themselves and used the Lord of Bindings as a crutch. And because of that, when he had fallen so had their magic weapons.

“About,” he answered, looking at me with light surprise. “Good guess.”

I nodded at his compliment, mostly still focused on the orb and the amalgamation of magic it seemed to contain. Now this was a true magical item, capable of thinking and helping construct spells as well as supplying mana to its owner.

My staff was merely an extended mana pool, capable of auto-casting three second-tier spells.

But this orb, this orb was a damn grimoire of spells and could hold more mana than I could ever dream of. It was probably sentient too, a high-level spirit to aid your casting and abilities.

I sighed in obvious jealousy and the elf man laughed.

“There there kid, you have your whole life ahead of you yet. You’ll be fine.”

I nodded and took my eyes away from the orb.

“Is that all I need to do to register?”

“Yes. There’s nothing more after that, though I do suggest you get an oracle. Those things seem to be a necessity nowadays.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes. Guilds seem to be incorporating them heavily into their routine. If you ever choose to get a job under a supervisor it will be a necessity, young Elurn.”

He knew my name. Of course, he knew my name, he had seen my papers.

“Oh, right,” I replied, suddenly aware of my complete lack of introduction. “What’s your name, again?”

“Kael, Kael Dradavin,” the old elf answered with an extended hand.

I reached over and grasped it, shaking his hand with a light smile. I was never good at talking to people.

Dradavin, huh? That sounded like one of those old Elvin names. Not one of the High Families, but an ancient name nonetheless. I scrunched my head in thought and searched my mind for the name, but I came up blank.

“Is that an old Elvin name?” I asked.

The elf smiled and shook his head.

“No, it’s my wife’s last name. She’s a dryad.”

My eyes rose in understanding and surprise. No wonder this guy was so nice. I’d been wondering why he was being so decent, given my half-demon status being clearly written on my papers, but this made more sense.

Dryads were… complicated creatures. I didn’t really understand them, but from what I knew they were half-nature half-human.

And they had a god, The Mother Tree of Nature. And while she had never sided with the Dark Lord, she had been neutral throughout the battle, and some of the Churches hated her for it.

“Ah,” I said with an understanding nod.

The old man nodded back.

“Is that why you live down here? To avoid the churches?”

“Well, I came down-side before I met my wife. Mainly I came for the dungeons. That new dungeon, the Graveyard, had just been discovered back then and a rush of adventurers were making their way down there to seek their fortune.”

“Isn’t that dungeon… over two thousand years old?”

“Oh don’t remind me,” the elf chuckled. “But yes, I suppose it is. But it was important you know. All the salvages from that place were corpses and corrupted things, useless to the churches but really beneficial for the necromancers. And the city couldn’t leave it unmanaged so… adventures flocked to it and a new district was found around it.”

“[[District 109]], Necrotopolis.” I commented.

“Yep. Fought there for a while, got a hefty lump of cash, and settled down here with my wife. Good times.”

“Adventuring always sounded dangerous to me. Too many deaths.”

“Well, that’s because you're from the wilds. Can’t imagine the Woven Forest is a fun realm to live in.”

“It had some safe zones and cities, but they were full of drow and arachne,” I replied.

“Mhm, went there a few times back in the day, those spider people are no joke,” he mumbled. “Hated men too.”

“They are matriarchal people,” I replied. “As are the drow.”

“Indubitably,” The old elf said with a nod. “And very direct.”

I smiled at that statement.

“Well, either way, anyone who can traverse realms and survive within the Woven Forest is more than capable of taking up adventuring. Think about it, young lad.”

“I’ll think about it,” I answered. “It was nice to meet you Mister Dradavin.”

“You as well, Elurn.”

And with that, we shook hands and parted ways.