“I was expecting something a little more.. I don’t know, magical?” Amon said, not even trying to hide his disappointment.
“I mean, it looks the part, but I don’t feel, like, tingly?”
Unexpectedly, instead of berating him for his impropriety, his father let out a laugh.
“To you maybe, but you aren’t wrong. I was similarly unimpressed when your grandfather brought me here. He had been going on and on about our duty – and then when I finally saw it for myself, I thought the old man had a screw loose.” He said, a smile on his face as he reminisced.
It faded a few moments after, replaced by his signature stony face.
“But there is something special about this place.” He said, “You simply don’t see it yet.”
His father retrieved the bundle of herbs he had brought from his pack, alongside a wooden bowl that he had somehow fit in there. It was about time.
“So, we’re making the potion now? Amon asked.
“Yes.” His father grunted, as he began grinding the wildroot and tangled clove together in the bowl. “But not the one you are thinking of.”
“Before I can pass the mantle to you, we need to make another kind of potion.” His father said, grabbing a different bundle from inside his leathers, and tossing it to Amon. It was wrapped in white cloth, unlike the brown that Miss Alina had bundled her herbs in. It had been wrapped tightly in string, and the contents felt oddly soft and – knobby? – in his hands. The impromptu gift was followed by a knife that sunk a few inches into the dirt beside him.
“Cut that open. I’ll need your help for this last part.” His father said, continuing to smush the two herbs into a paste.
Amon picked up the knife from the ground and cut the strings holding the cloth in place. They let out a small twing as they gave way to the edge of his knife. He unraveled the cloth, to find himself holding a small figure gently asleep in his hands. The figure had the appearance of a miniature human, with a pair of silky butterfly wings attached to its back. Its tiny features were immaculate, the smoothness of its skin, hair as black as the night sky. It was still in his hands, like a doll.
His eyes widened. “Is this..” Amon began.
“–A Fae?” His father finished for him, walking over.
“Why’s she.. I mean..” He gulped. At least he thought it was a girl. “Why do you have a Fae?”
“The mages call it the Sight, a vision that some intrinsically possess. It allows them to see the influence of life and Lauu in the world, what they call Mana. Those gifted with such abilities can learn to control that flow, to create spells.” His father explained. “You lack that talent, so you are blind to the power of this place.”
“And the only way to rectify that.” He said, “Is to give it to you.”
“And what do you mean by that?” Amon said.
“The Circle will tell you that there is no way to give magesight to those not born with it, but they are wrong. This elixir will grant it to you for a time.” His father replied.
“Tangled clove and wildroot.” He recited, “Mixed with the essence of a Fae.”
Amon looked at the figure in his hand, mortified.
He looked back up at his father.
“But, why? Why do I even need magesight?!” Amon responded defensively. “Is she.. is she dead? Did you kill her?”
His father shook his head. “She’s been dead for a long time – longer than you’ve been alive, even. An old guardian connected to our forefathers. Returning them to nature is the proper way of venerating them. And this is part of making that happen.”
Unsheathing a small, ornate knife from his belt, his father carefully sliced the chest of the lifeless Fae. A dull, slow ichor of syrupy black blood ebbed out of the wound, trailing downwards into the bowl his father placed under her, forming a red-brown color as it blended into the mix. His father took it, stirring it some more before he handed it back gesturing for him to drink.
Glancing at the bowl, and back at his father, he held it in his hands. Spirits below, he had to drink this? He cupped the bowl to his mouth and tilted his head back, drinking the mix as some spilled down his chin. The coppery taste of blood combined with the pulpy grass and clove gave it a particularly revolting flavor, the decades-old Fae blood the horrendous complement to an already nauseating concoction. He gulped it down, trying his best to avoid it coming back up.
“That tastes.. Disgusting” He coughed.
Looking back up after downing the most abhorrent liquid he’d ever tasted, the world was suddenly awash with newfound color and energy. The shock was so immense he stared unmoving for almost a solid minute, soaking in the new sensations he was experiencing. Was this what it was like to be blind and see, to truly see for the first time? It was comical how deaf to the world he had been moments ago. The world he remembered was so dull, and mundane. Now? The air was electric with motion, and all the living things around him gave off a fuzzy glow. There was a weave of energy flowing about the tapestry of reality itself, the grooves and edges forming the physical world he had always seen. Is this Mana? He idly wondered. He gazed around the clearing, awestruck. It was a bizarre sensation, the Sight felt closer to a sixth sense that had newly awoken than actual vision. Even with his eyes closed, the mana of the Grove suffused his surroundings so much that he could make things out as if it were as bright as day.
“This is how all mages see?” Amon asked in astonishment, entranced by the unfamiliar images.
His father shrugged, “Most don’t see so clearly, but essentially, yes.”
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
He glanced down at the dead Fae in his hand. There was an absence of the fuzzy glow around her. Instead, she felt cold. Lifeless. He laid her down on the ground, covering her in the soil of the grove.
His father said nothing, watching his son give the Fae a small burial in silence.
“So, what happens now?” Amon asked.
“The vibrancy that you see in the world – that is the mana of living creatures. They are not the only ones you can see, however. The Lauu – spirits, can be seen in their true forms.” His father said, standing next to the pond.
A snout nudged Amon from behind. He turned around, only to see an enormous boar with 4 tusks bearing down on him. Amon stared at it dumbfoundedly, before falling down on his ass. It snorted back at him, understanding of his shock at its awe-inspiring presence.
“That is Burni, a Lauu of the hunt.” His father said. “He is around the forest sometimes, as are many others.”
Burni, satisfied with his introduction, promptly started licking Amon’s hair. Amon sat back up and tried to push him away with his hand, but found it phase through his body uselessly.
“What the?! How come he can lick me?” Amon complained.
“He may not be physical, but he can affect the world in his own way. Things that you may have attributed to the wind, your own clumsiness, all can be effects of such spirits.” Demore explained patiently.
“That doesn’t explain how they can do it!”
“Much like a magus can reach out and effect the flow of Mana, the Lauu do the same. They cast spells as if it was second nature. It’s akin to breathing to them”
“I appreciate the insight, but can’t you get him to stop?” Amon continued to complain, running around the clearing while pointlessly trying to bat Burni away. The boar spirit continued to lick him relentlessly.
“He’ll get bored eventually.” His father said, “And more importantly, your ability to perceive the Lauu is only the first step.”
His father stepped between him and Burni, and somehow grabbed the ethereal hide of the boar and heaved, tipping him over on his side. The spirit let out a squeal of complaint, before fading into swirl of emerald motes that fled back into the forest.
“You need to learn to affect them.” He said. “The other brew is the one that will let you affect the spiritual.”
“And does this one require the blood of a virgin, mayhaps?” Amon questioned sourly.
His father shook his head. “No, nothing as dire – but you do need the Sight to complete it.”
“You need to bond with a spirit.” He continued.
“Bond? Like a pet?”
“No, a literal bond. You’ll need to find a compatible spirit willing to give a piece of itself to you. This will be the final reagent and the primary catalyst.” His father clarified.
“And then I’ll be able to touch spirits?” He asked.
His father rolled his eyes, “Yes, you will.”
“Look into the pond.” He said, “Tell me what you see.”
Amon sat down next to the shallow water and peered in. As opposed to seeing a watery reflection of himself, he could see an endless forest of the like he had never before seen. Humongous purple trees decorated the landscape, large enough that he couldn’t even see where the canopy ended. Little clumps of leaves and twigs formed tiny frames that danced around the pale-yellow grass next to the roots. The sky was dyed the golden hue of the sunset, and he could see a creature that bore a resemblance to a stag wandering through the trees. But unlike a stag, its legs where tremendously long, with its tips forming a spike instead of a hoof. It stood tall, a great neck supplanting its towering stature as it nipped at the highest branches of the trees. Its head was adorned with crystal-looking antlers that reflected the soft light of the forest.
They were only a small fraction of what Amon saw. Birds that dripped liquid that sizzled when it touched the ground, butterflies that left a sparkling trail that glittered, tendrils of vine that slithered on the ground like a snake – a torrent of beasts that he had no name, no idea of.
The mystical forest drew him in. It was so very real, like he could stretch out his hand, and pass through..
His father grabbed his outstretched hand. He hadn’t even realized he was moving it.
“You don’t want to go there just yet.” His father said.
Amon tore his eyes away from the water.
“What was that? Was that.. Real?” He asked.
“You already know it.” His father said, “You’re peering into Lerenda.”
“This.. That’s the Spirit Realm?!” Amon exclaimed in shock.
“A part of it.” His father replied, “The veil is weak here, and allows us access to Lerenda where it is most connected.”
“You mean I can go there?” He asked.
“You are going there.” Demore snorted, “Where else did you think you were going to find a spirit to bond?”
“But you just stopped me!” Amon protested.
“Diving in headfirst without knowing anything would have been foolish.” His father said, “Lerenda is not without peril. In there, you can affect spirits, but they will be able to affect you too.”
“Like how you grappled Burni?”
His father nodded.
“But the Lauu that live in Lerenda are more dangerous than he. You would do well not to tangle with the elder Lauu or antagonize the more powerful ones.” His father warned, “The Lauu are not ill-intentioned in nature – but they are not mortal. They don’t care for life like we do because they cannot understand it.”
“How am I supposed to find a spirit to bond then?”
“You will have to find one that you can feel a connection to.” His father said.
“What if I can’t find one?”
“There are an innumerable number of Lauu, Amon. It may take some time, but you will eventually succeed.”
“How long is that supposed to be? He asked.
“I would say, around a month?” His father mused.
“WHAT?!” Amon exclaimed. “I’m going to stay in there for a whole month?”
“It might do you some good.” His father remarked, “But no. You should never stay in Lerenda for an extended period of time. The land itself is a flowing tapestry that is constantly in motion, meaning that staying inside too long risks never being able to leave. If you’re ever at the point where you are unable to find the way back, then you won’t be coming back at all. A short visit every other day is enough.” He recommended.
“What happens when I do find a spirit to bond?”
“You’ll take that piece of them.” His father said, handing him the bundles of tassel and wolfsbane, “Add them together, and consume it.”
Amon held up the wolfsbane and tassel in his hand, and grimaced. “I don’t suppose this one’ll taste any better?”
“Don’t count on it.”
Damn.
“The mix will change you.” His father continued, “That fragment of the Lauu will be added to you, making you one with its essence. That is how we affect both the physical and the spiritual simultaneously – we are made of both.”
“Then that makes you..” began Amon.
“Part Lauu.” He father said. “I merged with a weeping oak.”
He made a sweeping gesture. Moments later, roots sprung up from under the ground all around the clearing, wriggling erratically.
“This is what gives us our magic, the innate ability that Lauu possesses.”
He had seen his father’s magic before. Watching flowerbeds grow out of the ground in an instant, or grapple enemies effortlessly with dozens of vines had been fascinating. Seeing them again here left him feeling.. Well, he wasn’t sure how to feel.
“Does it feel different?” He asked, “From before you..” He gestured at the roots. “You know.”
“Surprisingly, it does not.” His father reassured him, “You are not merging with the whole Lauu, merely a piece of their essence. The only ones that might give their essence are those who are like you – some relative mirror of yourself, not an unrelatable stranger.”
That was a comforting thought. At the end of the day, he would still be himself. Mostly.
“Be wary of the intelligent Lauu.” His father cautioned him, “There are those that can speak in human tongue, and their essence is too pure to safely consume. They can be dangerous and cunning."
“Okay, okay. I get it. Avoid the chatty ones. Is there anything else?” Amon asked.
His father sighed again. He was doing that a lot. “No, that’s all. You can go in. But be sure to return in under a couple of hours. I’ll be waiting here.”
Amon eyed the pool of water warily. “So, I just, what, dive into the pond to go there?” He asked.
“I find.” His father said, clapping his hands onto Amon’s shoulders, “A push helps.” as he shoved Amon headfirst into the pool of water.