"The woman who last summoned me died doing it, her Lifeforce drained after overdrawing her mana. The next day, I soul-bound this artefact," he said, summoning the fragments of the wand to his palm. Harriet leaned forward, a frown of concern crossing her attentive face. "You see, I was summoned to face this massive evil, a Lich tearing up the land, one that no army or warrior could take on without me. In the end, I was not enough. Thousands died including three Sovereign ranked officers, just so me and my summoner," he gestured with the wand fragments, "...could stand a chance against him."

"What happened? How did the wand break?" Harriet wondered.

"She detonated her soul while the wand was lodged in the Lich's skull, shattering it. We weren't certain, but we thought he might've used his own mind as a phylactery. Anyway, she gave up her life, then her soul, to help me save her city. She was so scared," Ori's voice cracked. "And I wanted to leave, but it was too late. But right at the end, she was happy. She believed I could bring her back. So I will. That's why I'm here, digging through books on enchanting and wandcraft. I'm gonna fix her phylactery and then find every last piece of her soul, even if it means diving into hell to get them."

“Spirits.” Harriet gasped. “But reforging the wand, isn’t that just the first step? How do you plan on finding her soul?”

Ori shrugged, “Honestly, I’ve got no idea right now. I have a Soulcraft affinity, and my soul has been enchanted or refined or something, beyond that? Maybe it’s in these books, I’ll figure it out.”

“And you say this Lich, it killed several Sovereign ranked Awakened?”

“Easily,” Ori confirmed. “Eltitus had an army of tens of thousands of undead and was on the verge of Immortality, or so I was told.”

“But you survived? And still, remain a mortal? How?? Actually, I’m sorry, I can imagine this is starting to feel like an interrogation, this is not my intent.”

“Yeah, a little bit.” Ori grinned to take the edge off his words. “But it’s okay. As you can understand, I am just a mortal and I’ve had those with power try to take advantage of me before, so it’s hard for me to trust right now, especially when I don’t know why I’ve been summoned.”

“I’m starting to understand.”

“And for how I’ve not Awakened? Well, I pledged the entirety of my Peritia to my familiar so that she could evolve, hopefully, she’s close to evolving but until that happens she remains on the verge of death.” Ori began and then gave Harriet a summary of his journey from the streets of Peckham Rye, to the Spring Residence of the Lunaesidhe. While he skipped over most of the specific details of his bonds and Crucible's trials, Ori believed he had painted a reasonable picture of an ordinary man thrust into extraordinary circumstances.

“I had no idea,” Harriet said, her mind drifting as she contemplated Or’s story. “I can scarcely imagine what you’ve gone through and that's just from just the little you’ve told me. Though there is one thing clear despite your modest representation of the part you played, you are not just a mortal man.”

“How, how do you mean?”

Harriet looked to the side as if in thought, the suspension of her intense gaze leaving Ori with a feeling of relief. “As I can not be forthcoming on the reasons why I summoned you, I feel as if I must make up for this in other areas,” Ori nodded, she continued. “Although I’m mostly an open book as far as high elven society is concerned, it is not a small thing for one such as I, to share information about one's classes and abilities. I began to do so, upon our first meeting, so let me continue.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Ori asked, curiosity and caution warring in his mind.

“It is so I can explain how I can see what I see when I look at you.” She said, her blue eyes shining despite the brightness of the day outside as they settled on him again. Ori’s heart raced his exhilaration at having her attention overshadowed by the fear of his talents being uncovered.

“High Elves may have to up nine classes. in no particular order, mine are Ruler, Astrologer, Herbalist, Alchemist, High Chef, Platonic Dancer, High Bard, with two of my classes yet to be chosen.”

“High Chef?” Ori blurted out, surprised.

"Yes," Harriet said, concealing a self-deprecating smile. "It is my craft, but let's discuss that shortly. As you can observe, my chosen classes align with my role as Queen, an administrator, a diplomat, and a leader presiding over a mostly peaceful queendom. My Astrologer and Ruler classes are particularly beneficial in this regard. Their passive abilities enhance perception, allowing me to understand people more deeply than most. As you may know, I can identify titles without resorting to divination or consulting the Library. Another passive enhancement is to get a moderately accurate sense of someone's presence.

"This is an indirect way of saying that encountering one with a Presence surpassing that of someone at the Sovereign rank, a mortal with a Presence rivalling my own, is quite extraordinary. Doing so without a realm's Grace or ancestral spirits is almost unfathomable. Then there are my racial senses, ones that both excite and warn me of your presence in the Dreaming. Yet, you sit here at once wary and unaware of the profundity of your existence." She smiled. “ I won't disclose why I summoned you, but it’s for these reasons and more, I knew you were the answer from the very moment you arrived."

Ori’s heart lifted at the declaration, sitting up and straightening under her presence. While it was no surprise she had some ability to sense the strength of others, and that what she had sensed were things Ori had already come to understand, knowing she believed him equal to whatever challenges lay ahead removed a ton of pressure from Ori’s shoulders. He smirked remembering Harriet's first words to him. “Are you sure, I remember you being surprised and disappointed to have summoned a mortal human back then?” Harriet blushed, and Ori loved seeing her composure dented and how it revealed to him someone who could be less guarded, less distant.

“Yes, well, knowing our laws… I admit to having my expectations of whom the ritual would have found…”

"It's okay. It would've been weird if you were expecting someone like me, considering what little I know of your culture."

“I suppose it would have,” Harriet said. Several seconds passed in silence, Ori more inclined to wait while Harriet seemed to bubble with questions and comments. After several false starts, Ori volunteered more information about himself.

“Have you heard of those on The Path?” Ori asked using the same archaic words Crucible had used to describe the phenomena.

“I have.”

“Well, I’ve been told that I’m an Irregular on The Path,” Ori started

“That would be an apt description given what we know. Irregulars fall outside the Library’s primary ranking system. Typically, one's rank reflects their Lifeforce, level and the requirements of the realm they've reached. As a result, most between Awakened and Divinity would be a match against another in the same rank. However, one facing an Irregular might face an unfortunate surprise given the right scenario.”

“That tracks, and is how I’ve come to view things. Most of what I am, what I’ve become, it feels as if it has come through luck. Though I admit I might have something going for me, I can’t help but think others from my realm, our greatest warriors, sportsmen or leaders, would have survived or even thrived in my place. That I seem unusual to you is less about who or what I am, but what I’ve been through.”

Harriet's gaze drifted to the floor in contemplation. “Who’s the say that you are not thriving right now? While I won’t try to guess at a number, many would be envious of your current position, access to the private workshops of a former Lunaesidhe Queen, and the undivided attention of its current figurehead. While you have challenges in your path, you don’t shirk away but accept them as they come. I can see why you are so humble, you don’t believe in yourself, do you? Not truly. Perhaps you haven’t had enough time. It is certainly something I can relate to.”

“How do you mean?”

“How old do you think I am, Ori?”

“It’s hard to tell, if you were human, I would say younger than me. Maybe the same age? I’m twenty-three summers old,” Ori said, once again feeling the boon of the succubus's power warp his use of language.

“You are both right and wrong. Though I have lived twice as many summers, within High Elven society and even on my Page in the Library, I am in my adolescence while you’re considered an adult. I am known in some quarters, quite unfavourably I might add, as the Infant Queen. Some of this comes close to the circumstances around your summoning, but I feel it is important to know if we are to understand each other.”

“Please, go on,” Ori said, drawn in by her revelations.

“I expected, had even looked forward to, hundreds of summers as a princess under my mother's reign. Unfortunately, fate had other plans and here I’m now facing the challenges she left behind, constantly feeling unprepared, unworthy, and if I must be honest, somewhat unwilling.”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“You don’t want to be Queen?” Ori said, his picture of the woman before him deepening in ways that allowed him to see her life through her eyes.

“It’s not that I do not wish to rule, I just don’t feel I’m ready. But I must. It is who I am, who We are, without a leader this realm would devolve into infighting and needless bloodshed. I truly believe our bloodline is the right one to rule.”

“But, you just feel like you had your adolescence stolen from you?”

“Yes. I wanted to be a princess, to travel this realm and many others, and truly understand the cultures, both elven and those beyond. Instead, I scarcely had time to grieve my mother before inauguration and naming.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, this is so unseemly of me to lay such burdens on you. This was all to say, I can understand not feeling worthy of the trials ahead.”

Ori nodded. “Thank you.” He said simply, his mind drifting towards the content of the journal. “You know, if your mother’s exploits as a princess were anything to go by, it seems like she was pretty stifled by circumstances too-”

“My Mother? Don’t you mean grandmother?” Harriet asked, visibly confused.

“Er, Arabella was your mother’s name, was it not?” Ori started.

Harriet stood up and approached, expression suddenly thunderous. “Show me.”

“Sure,” Ori stood, reaching over to her mother's journal, its cover was an unusually soft, teal leather, worn with scratches and scuff marks at the edges. Harriet opened it, her eyes drifting over words as pages were flipped with increasing rapidity.

“You can read this? She signed this with her name?” She said, her voice oddly fragile.

“Yeah,” Ori said, bewildered.

“I can not.” She said after she reached the end. “What does it say?”

“It's like a personal diary, I think she started it when your grandmother attempted to teach her Wandsmithing.”

“How can you read this? I don’t even know what language this is written in.”

Ori shrugged. “A trait I think.”

Harriet closed the book, closed her eyes and sighed. After handing back the journal, she moved towards the window, staring out towards the garden, her gaze distant and unreadable. Still facing away from him, she continued, her voice small. “Could you read it to me?”

“Yeah sure, it’s no big deal,” Ori answered.

“I ask so much of everyone, the ones I serve, the ones of whom I depend on, and now the one I summon.”

Unsure of himself, Ori covered half the distance between them, his mind swirling with conflicting thoughts and questions. He wanted to solve her problems but knew he couldn’t, and wanted to knuckle down, study and ignore this realm and its complications, but knew he wouldn’t, wanted to offer support, but was unsure how. A part of him feared his critical vulnerability; his loneliness, was once more being exploited by someone looking to take from him more than he could give. His fists clenched, as he shook away his insecurities and fear and saw the world through her eyes.

“Okay, how about this: New rule, in this room, you're just Harriet, or Anoriel, or whichever. You leave your crown outside the door and just talk about whatever’s on your mind. As someone who’s not from here, I won’t know anything about anything, won’t judge, I can’t hold your opinions about so and so against you, so you can gossip and vent in as unqueenly a way as you’d like?”

She turned around, eyes large and reddened but with a gentle smile. “Could I cook for you as well?”

“Erm, yes. You can absolutely cook for me if you want.” Ori said, shocked.

Harriet chuckled. “It was actually one of the things I initially wanted to talk to you about. Do you remember one of my classes being High Chef? Well, it’s actually been rare for me to progress my craft since my inauguration. As you might understand, not only has finding the time been difficult, but also… shall we say, finding a less biased audience.”

“Well, in that case, it would be my honour. You get to come here, complain about work, let your hair down, and in exchange I get to taste your cooking.” Ori said, his smile turning into a laugh as a thought struck him. “It almost sounds like we're married.”

“Careful,” Harriet said suppressing a radiant smile in a valiant attempt to appear more strict than she felt. “Greater men have been gelded for such displays of over-familiarity or impertinence.”

"Yo, leave that 'off with their heads' queen vibe outside, yeah? Just be yourself, princess." Ori said, feeling his growing boldness rewarded with a laugh from the erstwhile queen.

“Thank you, Ori. That means a lot to me,” Harriet said, “I’ve never cooked for a human before, so this should be an interesting challenge. Now, about reading the journal. Sorry to press, but my mother left very little of her words behind, and I only knew her after she became Queen. So as you can imagine, I’m unreasonably eager to hear more about her, especially as you say she was a princess back when she wrote this?”

“Yeah, sure. Whenever you’re ready.” Ori said, picking up the journal before sitting down and making himself comfortable.

“Please, go ahead.”

And so he did. For an hour he read aloud Arabella, or former Queen Iris’s journal, starting with the perceived unfairness of starting a craft she did not choose, to… well, that was a running theme throughout the book. In addition, there was lots of gossip about figures Harriet was scandalised to hear about in such a familiar way. Even Ori blushed as the journal was about to dive into details about an intimate encounter in the palace gardens.

“I think we can leave things there for now,” Harriet said, eyes shining with wonder and mirth despite her flushed expression. Ori closed the book, remembering their position a fifth of the way through the journal. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for this.”

“It wasn’t a problem at all, actually, that was kinda fun.”

“Yes, well, I should be going for now. Poppy will be here shortly for lunch and dinner, and I’ll return for luncheon tomorrow. What is it?” She asked, noticing the Ori’s wry smile.

Ori smiled, enjoying the strength of his rapidly improving memory. “You're right.”

“That’s typical,” she returned, her figure halfway through the door. “Though may I ask, what I might be right about this time?”

“That many men would be envious of my current situation, especially having room service from two amazing women like yourselves.” Ori chuckled.

“Yes, one should hope you’ve finally come to appreciate your good fortune.” Harriet's laughter echoed softly as she stepped out of the room, her demeanour a million miles away from the one she had when she entered.

“That was so surreal,” Ori said to himself in the silence that followed, had he really been flirting with a Queen of the Moon Elves?

He picked up Gorren’s Introduction to Enchanting and returned to his reading trance once more.

Through his reading, Ori made several connections becoming increasingly excited to learn what he saw as a form of magical engineering, but after reading one particular passage text, Ori was left shaken.

> Our craft permeates every facet of fate, from the animate to the inanimate, encompassing practices as diverse as healing and necromancy, racial evolution, and the intricate workings of the Library of Fates. These universal rhythms, omnipresent in nature, serve as the bedrock of enchanting. To the trained eye, these patterns are evident in the natural world, offering insights crucial to the practice of enchanting.

>

> Observation is a fundamental aspect of enchanting, equal in importance to the act of creation itself. Mastery in enchanting is not solely about the manipulation of energies and materials, but also the understanding of their origins and interactions in the natural world. For instance, consider the formation of Iron sand. This material, a common source of mundane Iron, is typically found as deposits along riverbanks. Its alchemic and paracausal characteristics are shaped by the local geological and environmental processes of the river. Understanding these processes allows an enchanter to predict the properties of the higher-grade spell Iron that can be smelted and, consequently, their suitability for specific enchantments.

>

> The rhythm of enchanting, comprising Shaping, Infusion, Encoding, Refinement, Quickening, Naming, and Bonding, is not a rigid sequence. These stages may not always follow the same order, may occur in reverse, or may involve many intermediate steps. Some stages may happen more frequently, or not at all, depending on the nature of the enchantment being crafted. This fluidity is a critical aspect of the enchanter's observational knowledge and skill, allowing for the discovery of new enchantments and the advancement of the craft. The Quickening and Encoding stages, in particular, heavily rely on the adept manipulation of paracausal energies such as Aether and mana, demonstrating the interplay between the enchanter's skill and the unseen forces of fate.

>

> Similarly, the growth patterns of the Yewheart tree, whose wood is prized for wand-making, offer another example. The tree's growth is influenced by several factors, including soil composition, climate, and magical ley lines. An enchanter, by observing these factors, can determine the optimal conditions for harvesting Yewheart wood that possesses the desired magical properties.

>

> Returning to Iron, another pertinent example may be found in alchemic smithing. This process often involves a stage of refining where the Iron is not only purified within a Crucible but also undergoes a transformation at a molecular level. Here, concentrations of carbon and zinc are intricately bound with Aether to form Aetheric Steel. This alloy, known for its resilience, ductility, and affinity for paracausal energies like Mana and Grace, is highly sought after in the crafting of enchanted weaponry and armour.

>

> In certain advanced enchanting practices, such as the casting of the spell Mana Forge, (see chapter 53) multiple stages of the enchanting process can occur simultaneously. This spell allows for the Infusion, Refinement, and Shaping stages to be executed in a single, harmonious action. By channelling Mana, exerting breath, and guiding Aether through carefully constructed spell forms, the enchanter can dramatically alter the nature of an object, imbuing it with new properties and functions. This spell exemplifies one of many intermediate milestones of an enchanter's career.

Dormant connections flared, his powers of observation retroactively scouring old memories as they resurfaced:

> '...aspirants must first choose which of the three aspects to refine…. Confirmed. Mind, Body and Soul aspects have been selected….’

> ‘...Reactant, Reagent, Catalysts, Mana, Carnis-Synthesis! You'll become my eleventh masterwork, my fifty-eighth aspirant to successfully walk the path and my first complete flesh enchantment…’

> ‘Yes, you can add Coke and Limestone to Iron in the blast furnace, a simple Crucible won’t do… what I offer is a way of turning Iron into Steel, a medium stronger, tougher, more malleable and ductile, resistant to wear and corrosion, and easier to re-shape and spring back into shape after duress… Except that this isn’t mere Iron we’ll be steelworking, lad. No, this time, it’ll be your soul.’

> ‘Refining where the Iron is not only purified within a Crucible…’

So far, others had dictated the process he had unwittingly undergone, with higher entities shaping him to their whims. Could Enchanting be the key to controlling his own transformation?

Realising Enchanting's potential, Ori saw a path to independence. It was more than a craft; it was a means to self-determination, a way to escape being a pawn of higher powers. Embracing Enchanting was about seizing control and manipulating fundamental forces to carve out his destiny. This revelation sparked a determination in him, a rebellion against even the possibility of being moulded into something weak or superficial. He refused to be a puppet or curiosity, something to be manipulated later and discarded. It was time for him to take a stand, to build himself strong and complete. He would not be shaped by others; he would shape himself his own way and on his own terms.