Ori's condition oscillated between fever and moments of lucidity. During one of these clear spells, he realised he was being moved, his body supported by arms far too dainty to be so strong.
Sometime later upon wakening, he found himself back in his suite, topless though clad in fresh trousers. It was morning, bright but misty in the forest beyond the residence window. Feeling hale and rejuvenated, Ori rose and made his way towards the full-sized mirror. There were no signs of fever nor did he feel hunger or dehydration. What was likely a fractured skull had been healed without a trace, though given how easily a wounded mortal could be brought back to full health, such a feat wasn't the miraculous achievement it once might have seemed.
He ignited his vision and saw the light of the higher realms spark and swirl in his eyes, he could see mana again, and he grasped it, unaligned mana bowing to his command, his spellform shaping his intent until a flash of Lesser Restoration topped off what minor fatigue and injury remained in Ori’s form.
He stared into the mirror, the physique that he had once regarded as a symbol of his growth now seemed fragile and insufficient. The man he thought he had become was, in truth, still just a boy, feeble and struggling, an ant amidst a throng of giants.
“Pitty parties over,” Ori said to himself, recalling all the plans he’d made in the prison cell. “Head down, shield up, one step after the other,” he continued, recalling the mantra that had seen him through a war. After finding a shirt, he left for the workshop.
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The morning passed swiftly as Ori delved into various textbooks, following practical examples in shaping and enchanting. He methodically built up his foundational knowledge and experience, gradually moving towards more hazardous concepts.
He no longer deactivated his vision. Familiarity with its barrage of information paradoxically aided his focus. His thoughts, once scattered, now had a diamond clarity as he broke down cognitive tasks, his perception, intelligence, and dexterity synergising more effectively.
A knock preceded Harriet's entry into the workshop. Ori found himself irked that she hadn't waited for his invitation to enter. Her gaze was fraught with fury and distress, an expression that might have intimidated Ori a mere few days ago. Now, however, it seemed to have less effect on him, his demeanour coated in a layer of icy indifference. Yet, she remained strikingly beautiful, her presence a reminder of joyful moments that still made his heart race. The familiarity and comfort that once existed between them seemed absent as Ori simply stood and waited.
Harriet struggled to articulate her thoughts, her words faltering and her chest heaving as if she'd just completed a sprint. “As a guest under the protection of House Luinilthar, who has suffered grave, unprovoked injury under guest rights, by a member of our house,” she swallowed hard, maintaining a shaky resolve. “We apologise thrice for our transgression. Firstly, for breaching the sacred hospitality we were bound to uphold. Secondly, for the unprovoked and unjust harm inflicted upon you. And thirdly, for the disgrace brought upon our house and its noble lineage through this reckless act.
“In line with our traditions and laws, we propose reparation to mend the offence, to heal the wound, and to redeem our honour. Our duty is to ensure justice and restore the trust that has been damaged,” Harriet continued, her voice hardening.
“As a gesture of our genuine remorse and commitment to rectify our wrongs, House Luinilthar offers one boon, one life, and one curse, within the confines of our abilities and honour. This is not merely a goodwill gesture, but a binding oath recognised by Fate, one necessary to atone for the harm caused to you, lest a greater misfortune befalls our house.”
A bewildered Ori reflected on the situation. After the apparent ineffectiveness of guest rights, he had discounted the power of the fae-like magic, yet Harriet’s evident fear made him reconsider.
“I’ve literally no idea what's happening,” Ori admitted, his calm belying his inner turmoil.
“You now, due to my brother’s foolish actions, have complete authority over the fate of my house. Thus, I entrust my life and the future of the Lunaesidhe to you,” Harriet explained.
“This seems overly dramatic,” Ori frowned in confusion.
“It’s a requirement of Fate,” she replied.
"Like the Library of Fate?"
"No, this goes deeper, this is primordial Fate, part of our fae heritage." Harriet clarified.
“And if I refuse or say I’m not interested?”
“Then our just punishments for breaking such a sacred pact will be determined by Fate,” she answered.
Frustration building, Ori inquired, “What am I supposed to say? What exactly does a Life, a Boon, and a Curse mean?”
“You must select a life for recompense, a curse for retribution, and a boon to restore our honour. Any further guidance from me would invalidate the choices and bring about due punishments on our house,” Harriet explained in a tone bordering on catatonia.
"This is mad," Ori cursed under his breath, the weight of a nation placed on his shoulders. Yet, as he dwelt on his options, his ability, Split Mind, kicked into high gear, dissecting possibilities with needle-like precision. He needed solutions that would safeguard Harriet, neutralise Irbron’s threat, and secure his freedom. After a minute of pacing, the answers crystallised in his mind.
“Fine," Ori declared, his voice resolute, "Your brother’s life to be sacrificed in place of your own, ensuring you cannot die as long as he lives.” In this single sentence, Ori engineered a perpetual shield around Harriet, making her untouchable as long as Irbron drew breath and making betrayal even less likely.
His next words were even colder, “I curse your brother with seven hundred years of impotence.” This was not just a physical neutralisation; it was symbolic, stripping Irbron of his immediate ability to foster heirs thus damping any aspirations of power. In rendering him impotent, Ori effectively neutered the threat he posed, turning his existence into a long, barren echo.
"As for a boon, I wish for an exemption to Hlēo’þorbēon and unrestricted travel in the lands of Lunaesidhe," he said, staring at Harriet. While he would still suffer under the effects of a song, an exemption granted to him by Fate should make his continued presence with elven lands and future returns less problematic than they previously were. While he could have asked for power or riches, Ori had no idea how much Fate could grant or just how much of it he could take with him after his trial. He had also made a promise to himself to have a more active role in his growth, so random powerups from forces beyond his influence had less appeal than they used to. For a long moment, Ori considered asking for Freya’s evolution. But something within him, an instinct he couldn't quite grasp, suggested that given his current era—one in which Freya hadn't yet been born— Fate wouldn't be able to act upon such a request in the way he'd likely desired. And while he needed a Mana Nexus, Harriet seemed to hint at ways of forming one within her typical resources.
As Ori declared his decision, he felt a surge of Peritia wash over him.
“So it is done,” Harriet exhaled, collapsing onto a sofa, still dazed and trembling.
“Was that alright? I had no intention of taking a life. I intended to have him replace you in case you suffered fatal harm.”
Harriet laughed mirthlessly, though seemed relieved. “Yes Ori, thank you. Had we not needed his strength, I would have skinned him alive myself. Poppy was beyond livid, had I not returned when I did, then I don’t know what would have happened… Anyway, another man, a more vindictive man might have sought out our ruin. When Poppy hears of the curse… well that will go some way towards pacifying her anger.”
“I’m glad. Didn’t want to let him off too easily. I hope this hasn’t caused a massive scandal?” Ori queried.
“No, fortunately, Irbron, my foolish brother, was alone. He had sought your head, but guest rights protections and the backlash prevented you from being banished by his hand. You were entirely within your rights to demand his life. I wouldn’t have blamed you had you done so.”
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“What exactly happened? Did you speak to him afterwards? Will I be seeing more of him in future?”
“No. He was supposed to be in the capital. Perhaps driven by Poppy’s recent movements and the intrigue that might have caused, Irbron likely took it upon himself to investigate. Poppy said she confronted him in the night garden the night before your injury, however, it seems as if her reassurances were not enough to dissuade his curiosity. Poppy had been running errands for me that morning when Irbron confronted you,” Harriet sighed. “Had she been there, things would have been different. When I returned, I found my brother dishevelled and suffering debilitating backlash from the retaliation of guest rites some hours after he imprisoned you, and was about to face off against Poppy who was apoplectic. I doubt anything could draw her presence away from this residence during your stay now. Meanwhile, my brother seemed fixated on what he claimed were fraudulent translations by a perverted charlatan.
“After having you healed, I sent them both away to have a page from both the original and your translations studied and confirmed to be remarkably accurate. After which, all those involved were given soul oaths to not speak a word of this matter to anyone, ever again.
“I don’t know the specifics but I believe Poppy and my brother have some history. I’ve tried to stay out of it, but I fear my negligence in this matter almost led to your banishing and the ruin of our house. I’ll never be able to apologise enough—”
“It’s okay. I’m fine.” Ori said.
“Are you? Are we?”
Ori suppressed his reflexive response to reassure her, especially given the thoughts and conclusions he had arrived at recently. He sighed, “It’s all a bit of a fantasy really.”
“How do you mean?”
“Like a story or a song. A poor boy falls in love with a princess and her maid, and they live happily ever after, except that in my case I can’t stay for more than a few weeks, you can’t have my child, even my presence here breaks one of your laws, and I can’t even be left alone for a few hours because I’m too weak.”
“I…” Harriet sought his gaze and held it as if she was seeing into him, searching for something that was no longer there. “So then, I sense you have come to some decision?” Harriet eventually asked, her voice small and hands clasping each other in a manner that was taut and agitated.
“Harriet. I… shouldn’t… I can’t do the soul bonding, the Taurna’diem with you. This was a bit of silly wish fulfilment on my part, let's be honest. The last few days have shown me just how stupid I was for even thinking it was a good idea for either of us.”
“So, my desires on this matter are just a trifle? A trivial thing only you in your newly… enlightened mindset can decide?”
“No, I…”
“And then why even ask for such a boon if you were no longer interested?” Harriet said, anger spilling over into tears. “I thought, despite your current aura, maybe…”
“I… wanted the ability to return, maybe to check in on you when I’m stronger.”
“I see.”
“I’ll find another way to… one that doesn’t require soul-deep commitments from either of us. I have several weeks, I will make progress.” Ori said.
“I’m sure you will. If you would excuse me.” Harriet said woodenly before she stood and left.
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Ori brooded for an hour before deciding to work on something more productive. His first port of call was to craft a shielding artefact. Irbron's attack had come out of nowhere, giving him no time to react, let alone think about how to counter it with whatever meagre abilities he had.
Unfortunately, Ori’s affinities, however grand and useful they had been so far, didn’t neatly align with the artefacts and shields he wanted to enchant. Worse, many required a high comprehension of certain affinities or concepts—something Ori was unsure he possessed. Instead of using elemental affinities like earth or wind, many shields delved into higher concepts like defence or impenetrability. It was possible that Ori could one day gain a threshold or higher comprehension of such concepts, but, as he understood from Freya’s rote knowledge, such a process often took months, if not years without a natural, related affinity.
Even for the shields based on his affinities, such as Light and Lightning, Void or Mana, higher concepts Ori understood but had no idea how to implement on an arcane level made many of these artefacts beyond his reach. Additionally, due to being naturally unsuited to the role of shielding, they also often came with unacceptable vulnerabilities.
All except one.
> Enchantment Name: Dreamwalkers' Ward
>
> Characteristic Requirements: Domain > 10
>
> Other Requirements: Dream-related affinity, Hardbody shaping material,
>
> Effects: Passively projects a field around the user five yards in radius wide, that turns otherwise harmful attacks, effects, or entities into aspects that can be manipulated in the Waking as if they were in the Dreaming. Provides one activation per charge, with the number of charges variable based on crafting success.
>
> Description: The Dreamwalkers Ward is an artefact that melds the essence of dream manipulation with defensive warding. Designed to blur the lines between reality and the dream world, this ward utilises the user's dream affinity to transform real threats into random, manageable dream-like entities. This unique characteristic allows the user to control, mitigate, banish or even repurpose incoming dangers as if manipulating elements within a dream. Hostile entities within the ward's domain are banished to their original plane of existence upon activation of the ward, or if native to the user's current plane, have a chance to be knocked unconscious, their dreaming mind held captive by the user in the dreaming.
>
> Notes: Crafting this artefact requires not only a profound understanding of dream-related magics, rare and exotic reagents and spell inks but also access to a domain. As a result, forging this artefact is rarely accessible to enchanters beneath the rank of Immortal. Additionally, the use of this artefact requires an innate capability to withstand and manipulate the ethereal and often unpredictable nature of dreams. Users must be cautious, as the ward's effects can sometimes bleed into perception, requiring mental fortitude to separate illusion from reality. The ward is ideal for lucid dreamers with Dreamwalking aptitude. However, due to its passive, always-on nature, concealing the shield's presence may not be possible against anyone with even a moderate perception ability.
Ori stared at the enchantments crafting guide as he mentally tallied the materials and resources needed to craft it. Its requirement of a Dream Domain seemed to vastly reduce the complexity of inscriptions, and the cost of catalysts and reagents required to manufacture something this useful, and for most people, this was not a trade-off available to them. But Ori wasn't like most people and intended to leverage this fact more often.
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There was a knock. After Ori called for them to come in, Poppy entered with a tray of food and refreshments, their smell reminding him of just how little he had eaten recently. He ate the delicious but somewhat simpler elven food, but instead of leaving shortly after her delivery, she settled down on the floor in her typical manner. Ori watched her as he swallowed his bite; she seemed calm, though the set of her hands and the, for her, moderate fidgeting of fingers and toes suggested to him that she had some things on her mind. Wanting to break the ice and at least appear that all was well within, Ori started with an inane question.
“I’ve always wondered, why do you sit on the floor?”
“Many reasons,” she said absently. “Seats are often limited, while there’s usually more floor. It’s good for joints, posture, and flexibility and usually helps me stay still.” She looked towards him and grinned. “Because as you know, I really like to move.”
Ori chuckled, a flush of heat followed by memories of her thighs wrapping around him. He joined her on the floor, close enough to lean over and touch, but leaving enough space between them if such advances were now unwelcome. His heart ached at the thought that might be the case given her lack of eye contact and overall subdued expression.
“I remember,” Ori confirmed.
“It’s like we’re all in one big dance, you, me, and Mistress, when one of us takes a step forward, one of us is made to take two steps back. She told me what happened, we share everything, did I tell you that?”
Ori nodded.
“She blames herself, and worse yet she believes you hate her—”
“I don’t—”
“I know. But she still believes it. She promised you protection, and she was not there to protect you from someone who should have otherwise aided you, if not left you alone.”
“She shouldn’t have needed to protect me.”
“I know. But she did break your trust, and a small part of you likely hates her for it.”
“I don’t—”
“You’re not a good liar Ori, so please don’t,” Poppy said tiredly. Ori closed his mouth, his lips a thin line.
“If you should hate anyone, it should be me. Irbron and I had something of an on-and-off relationship when we were younger. I had this foolish idea that it would be nice if we were all one big, real family, but he wasn’t good for me, wasn’t good to me either, and I grew up. He did not.”
“Why are you telling me this? Wait, you saying he was jealous?” Ori said with a sinking feeling.
Poppy nodded. “I had hoped after catching him spying on us in the night garden, that he’d leave us be. It’s likely I as much as not only drove him further to find you and confront you when I wasn’t around. So you see, if you need someone to focus your anger on, it should be me. His childish jealousy over me was the cause of all of it,” she said, picking at her dress.
“Harriet's lonely." She continued, "Her mother’s death and the isolation of her duty have forced us apart more than I wished, and I feared it would have stayed that way. Then she came up with her plan to summon you. It was foolish and reckless and so unlikely to work, but it was also brilliant. Her mind needed convincing but her spirit fell for you the moment she saw you. I wasn’t supposed to. Our tastes in most things, men especially, were often so different that it never occurred to me that my spirit might yearn for the same man fate decided should be hers.
“I was so distraught when I realised what was happening. I had expected Mistress to banish or otherwise remove me from her services, but do you know what she said to me when I told her? She said, 'Well, it seems like we might have another chance at that family you always wanted.'” Poppy laughed, her shining eyes welling with unshed tears while Ori listened silently. “The day after you quickened your sight, I’d never seen her so happy, I’d never been so happy. All our worries, Rufus, the capital, they all felt so distant. And now that fool Irbron hurt you and left you to bleed to death alone in a cell for hours, and I have never felt so much disappointment and anger.
“I know you think you’re feeling this way because you think you are weak, but you are not and when the rest of fate learns just how strong you are and what you’ve accomplished, even our guardian spirits will… well, it doesn’t matter. I’ve said what needed to be said. If you can find it within yourself, please forgive my mistress, and more importantly, forgive yourself. While you figure out how, I'll be waiting.” Poppy stood, the shadows she walked towards seemed to stretch before she stepped through them and she was gone.