Heppa’s days are full of alchemy with Fenowin in the mornings and research with Daddy in the afternoons, but she still finds time to squeeze in meditation, trying to put into practice what Ruthiel taught her in Wesmere. The shyde explained the two forms corruption takes: either something good is missing or something bad is present. The only way Heppa can come to identify that—and therefore figure out a treatment—is if she is already familiar with how her environment and her own internal landscape should feel.
Fenowin is a good mediation partner, but she cannot control the way Heppa’s mind jumps around. The glade here is so peaceful, which just frustrates Heppa even more. If she cannot meditate here, how can she be expected to do so out where there is conflict? Her body is becoming more used to sitting still for long stretches of time, but her mind constantly returns to her projects. During one such disappointing session, she reflects that there is a limit to how much she can accomplish on this front just sitting around with Fenowin. She asks the older elf’s advice.
“My glade is wonderful. Perfect really. I maintain it that way, keeping it free of any negativity. You might consider getting some contrast. If you go to a place that you know is not so great, then the differences should really stand out,” Fenowin suggests.
Based on Heppa’s experiences, the closest, most convenient place to try that would be the Foul Fen. Walking corpses rose there, and a ghost frequented the ruined keep. She has never tried meditating there, and she is sure it would feel different. There must be corruption there. It would not take very long for her to reach there. Tric might even be interested in coming, if they combine it with a trip down into the tunnels to talk with the Untdunben dwarves about allying against the threats brewing out east. Heppa resolves to sound Tric out on this idea next time she sees him.
* * *
Tric raps on his cousin Quaemilya’s bedroom door, and she invites him inside her room, a little surprised to see him. He presents to her the magical bangle that he got from the jewelry merchant at the After Harvest Festival and asks her to be his magic tutor. When she makes a comment about this activity being unsanctioned, Tric carefully reframes his request. “Volas said I should seek out someone I trust with at least sorceress-level knowledge who would be willing to test out what kind of capability I may or may not have.”
“But why?” Quaemilya presses.
Tric drops his voice lower since Thrandolil could be somewhere in the house. “Well, since Anador is not around, there’s a gap in noble duties that are supposed to be fulfilled. Eventually someone will need to fill that gap. I have an older half-brother. He told me he’s not going to do it, so….” Tric draws in a breath, feigning mild aggravation with the whole situation. “You know how it is. The duty is going to fall to one of the children, right?”
Quaemilya empathizes with that line of reasoning. Given what elvish lords learn of the magical arts, though, she does not want to stay in her room. The first lesson of sorcery she teaches Tric is that faerie fire is something best practiced outside. She grabs the intertwined branches that make up her staff and leads him through the house.
Heppa hears them moving through the halls and excitedly tags along, eager to see whether Tric really has access to the fae currents like a full elf does. Tric downplays the significance of this. “It’s just another kind of magic. I’m sure I can figure this out.”
Once they reach a reasonably clear area in the forest, Quaemilya invites them to stand back while she demonstrates faerie fire. She sweeps her staff around as she gathers energy, and they see a whole rainbow of light crackle around it. Then she points the staff at a bush several dozen feet away. The energy keeps building up, but then instead of launching across the small meadow it fizzles out, blowing Quaemilya’s loose blonde hair back from her face. She turns to her audience and explains, “Faerie fire is very difficult to control.”
Tric nods in understanding; he has run into the same problem with his own magic. Heppa looks on curiously, assuming the spell worked and she just does not understand its intended purpose. Tric steps up to Quaemilya’s side, and she coaches him through an attempt of his own. He has no leafy staff, but he pulls out his willow knuckle dusters. Nasir carved them with intention, imbuing them with power, and Tric twirls them around one finger, psyching himself to try this. “Is it okay if I aim at something a little closer?” he asks. “Or does that put us in the blast zone?”
“Narrow your focus for this first try,” Quaemilya advises him. “Concentrate just on the bush, and do not worry about striking anything around it.” She looks around the clearing and selects a shrub closer than the one she had aimed for. “Why not try that one?”
“Sure!” Tric turns to face his new target, muttering under his breath, “I mean, this is not so different from passing the hat around… except the hat is the currents of air, the flowing of water…”
Quaemilya puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I will explain this in more detail after you attempt it. I’d like you to experience this first, so you have context.”
Tric feels power coursing through him, and colorful lights play across his knuckle dusters, but like his cousin, he fails to set the bush on fire. The experience is quite taxing, more so than his usual magic. He takes a seat on the soft grass to listen to Quaemilya’s lecture. He has endured many a magic theory discussion on his travels with Heppa, but this is the first time the learned individual is a sorceress.
“When we are called upon to defend our people and our lands, that requires more energy than this natural plane holds. And that is when we sorceresses reach beyond this plane and pull such energy as necessary back. It’s difficult to control, and it is even harder to understand. It’s volatile, and it’s disruptive. Faerie fire is our greatest weapon, but it is only to be wielded against our enemies.”
This all sounds familiar to Tric and Heppa. They have heard someone else talk about approaching magic this way. “This is the aetherium!” Tric says. “It’s the same thing!” Quaemilya’s words echo what they have heard from Kachen about human magic. Not many elves would be able to make that connection, but he and Heppa have become quite worldly in the past six months.
“Druidic magic is focused on growth,” Quaemilya explains. “Either you’re getting plants to entangle enemies and poke them with thorns, or you’re accelerating the natural healing that all living things have. That is natural magic, the basics that shamans learn for how to tap into elves’ native affinity for magic. Druids understand that connection on an even deeper level, but it’s the same power, just magnified. Druidic attacks are essentially just bludgeoning with sticks.”
Tric and Heppa nod their understanding. Up until now, everyone that they have talked to about elvish magic has followed the druidic path. Fenowin is a druid, Ruthiel a shyde, Soliana a star. For those women, their only experience of magic is the nature-oriented casting that channels fae energy. And indeed, that is what Heppa learned in the small amount of shaman training she attended.
“Sorceress magic is a different style,” Quaemilya continues. The way she talks about reaching beyond the natural plane to bring across volatile energy, it is clear she has the utmost respect for the danger it presents. Unlike certain shadow mages, Quaemilya does not perform this magic carelessly. That healthy attitude is reassuring to her sister; it does not sound like there is any danger of Lala causing corruption.
Heppa wonders aloud whether elves naturally have an easier time accessing this power than humans do, and Quaemilya insists that it is never easy. “Females elves are inherently inclined towards manipulating the growth of the natural world. This is not that. Sorceresses set aside that power to embrace this different power, this arcane power, specifically because of its destructive capabilities. We sorceresses are trained in aggressive defense. This is the type of magic that elvish lords learn because they are the leaders of our armies.”
The philosophical question of whether male elves have the same inherent tie to the fae currents is irrelevant to this discussion. Quaemilya addresses her next points directly to Tric. “Elvish lords are responsible for all three facets of elvish society. The martial branch: rangers, scouts, fighters and the like. The peaceful civilians: the councilors, the crafters—”
“The water dowsers,” Tric interjects.
Quaemilya nods. “Yes, the diplomatic side. And finally, the third branch: the mystical elves, the magic wielders. An elvish lord has to be educated in all three of those fields: war, diplomacy, and magic. Where that will be put to the test is in defense of elfdom. And so this destructive magic is what they learn.”
Heppa’s mind is reeling. Can sorceresses learn the magic of the light used by white mages? Can humans summon faerie fire, or is it too hard for them? She has a sudden thought. There was one other elf of the sorceress line that she and Tric talked with, the sylph Ethiliel. And from her they learned that elves can do necromancy. Maybe this explains why. Sorceress magic proves that elves can access the same energies. And elvish lords are trained in this. Like Daddy. She has never seen him do much in the way of magic, but Soliana said both Thrandolil and Andaor were naturally gifted in this area. If Daddy is trying to bring Anador back to life, and Anador’s body is in Mal-Ravanal’s lair, surrounded by other undead, what might happen?!
“Druidic magic is focused on nature and healing. Sorceress magic is focused on insight and destruction,” Quaemilya continues. “We have knowledge of things beyond the natural world, whereas druidic magic channels what is already here around us all, even if unseen.”
It occurs to Heppa that maybe “human magic” is a meaningless label, since now it seems that what they do is actually another form of elvish magic. Maybe humans learned it from elves way back when, and they’re just not doing it right. Or maybe they need to learn it in a different manner because they have such short lives. From everything Lala has said, Heppa feels more inclination toward the druidic track—not that she is going to officially become one. However, she still wants to try out faerie fire. Taking out Grandmother’s wand, she steps forward. The sweeps she makes with her thorny stick begin to collect energy, but it promptly gets out of her control. In a desperate effort to avoid corrupting the forest here, she harkens back to Kachen’s experience with the sword during the fight with Godol. Heppa pulls the energy in instead of pushing it out, burning both her wand and herself.
When Heppa began her casting, she thought she was reaching out to energies she had never touched. However, now that she is finished, she realizes she recognizes some of what she experienced. She has bridged that gap before. Runes are a shortcut to the aetherium! she marvels. This new understanding is a mixed blessing. Runes really are dangerous, that means. Even people who know nothing about runes can do some basic magic with them. Depending on the magic, that could be causing corruption without anyone noticing. On the other hand, maybe the runes take care of the hard part, piercing cleanly into the aetherium for the user, like a needle stabbing deep into flesh. That might mean no corruption comes through, but that the aetherium itself is damaged in some way… or it might mean that if things go wrong with a casting, they can go more colossally wrong.