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letterstosestrilles · 2 years

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Dear Tyko,

I hope all is well there? I know having three extra parents around might be making your life a bit inconvenient, but I didn’t like to leave them alone on Nellaser’s Landing when they’re hardly used to this plane. Especially when Hanai needs to think about that job offer from the university labs. But you could use some distracting, I think, I know that Alma has started doing a lot of hovering now that you’re finally working your way through the ownership transfer. At least last I heard you’re enjoying the book for this month’s book club? Not a huge consolation, but it’s something.

(Ezenki told me, if you’re wondering where the leak is. I haven’t yet convinced Lindanas to respond to me like a friend, though I’m working on it.)

Despite missing all of you horribly, I’m enjoying myself here, for all I’m mostly keeping Maliah company and occasionally handing her a trowel when she asks me to.

Aland isn’t the most beautiful place I’ve ever visited. How could it be? It shows clear signs of the disasters and conflicts that displaced most of its people, so long ago. The greenery that’s here is scraggly and weak, covering over parched earth with little nutrients to let them grow tall. Maliah has showed me ruined cities fallen to pieces even more than the ones on Tlere, without the help of verdant jungles to take them down. There are acres and acres of scorched plains, from uncontrolled wildfires or long-gone battles.

But there are also birds, and fish in the oceans, which are better off than the land. There are pollinators buzzing by, waiting for something to pollinate, and mice. There are, Maliah tells me, people here too, the last remnants of the Honorien Dominion, who haven’t come while I’ve been here but who talk to her sometimes, asking what she’s doing and making their own suggestions or requests, or sometimes helping for a few hours.

In the weeks between Maliah leaving Kirim and me coming here, she seems to have wandered half a continent, just seeing the state of the place, learning and making plans. This isn’t going to be an easy or a fast job, the way I have a whole culture’s worth of music to learn and preserve, the way Niko has to learn to capture light. She’s helped, though, by her boon, decided on while we were on Kirim, apparently. Now that we’re not traveling together as much, she wanted a way to travel quickly by magic to see the people she loves, and Cernunnos granted her a way of making doorways in trees and large plants to other ones she’s seen before, and it’s helped her cover ground at a decent pace, once she had the lay of the land.

She’s already spent several days meditating, giving the land greenery and fertility. I can tell where she’s been, because there are saplings there, starting to grow, and ivy climbing up the old ruins, and wildflower fields where there was once only anemic scrub brush.

Right now, I’m sitting beneath a sturdy oak tree on top of a hill. On Kirim the first time, after the roc, she found a token that would let her grow a tree to full adult growth in just seconds, and she’s been saving it, and once she’d revitalized this area, she put down the token and let the tree grow. It’s a steep hill, and the wind whistles by in a way that will take the acorns a distance, to seed some stands of trees, maybe someday a forest. Right now, it’s a lone large tree, with light filtering through the branches. I like that. I like knowing that, wherever I walk on this planet, the light comes from Jhasdej, who cares so for the land under their care, who saved Reorx and only asked for things we would gladly give in return.

It’s got me in a philosophical mood, but for once a pleasant one, because the future looks kind, near and far.

You know me. I won’t be able to just relax and spend time with my family, even once my work for Jhasdej is done. But I do plan to make a lot more time for all of you, and to let myself dwell in the happiness of having both sides of my family.

I know that we didn’t talk much about our talks with Damaris, the conclusions they’re starting to draw, the ones that dovetail with some of what I wondered. I do think, at this point, that if we’d chosen Mishakal’s second quest, looking for flowers on a torn-up planet, we might have found what killed the Procyon. And maybe I could go looking for it, whatever of it remains, but for what purpose? To go picking flowers in case another god needs healing someday? To torture myself, when I’m finally letting myself be happy? When we were considering the quest, it was implied that when this happens to planets, it happens through great and cosmic violence, but that violence is done now, and if there were survivors, it can’t be on me to hunt them. So I’m going to hope that the planet finishes breaking up, that the flowers dissipate out over time, that the region eventually calms. I’m going to pray to the Lady to let people steer away until those forces grow less. If you were worrying, let that reassure you: I have enough answers, at least enough for now. I’m going to live my life.

And I’m starting, just starting, to see the shape that might take.

I’ll keep learning Jhasdej’s songs. I’ll sing them here, under their light, and teach them to any of the people here who want to learn them, and anyone who wants to settle here, if anyone does want to strike out on a new adventure. I’ll trail along after Maliah and learn to use a trowel while she settles into her confidence, revitalizes a planet from its ashes and takes breaks to be with Marsa or her mothers or, perhaps, the Wild Hunt. And someday she’ll find a new planet to explore, new people to help, she and Squirt both.

Maybe sometimes Niko will come along, while she wanders. Maybe she’ll take us to the Elemental Planes, while she’s still settling back into herself before going back to Reorx, and I know that as long as she’s here, and I hope even after that, I’ll see her often.

And me? I’ll sing Jhasdej’s songs elsewhere, too, and my own, and all those I’ve collected along the way. I’ll give concerts, because I promised, and according to you and PA, if it’s not an elaborate prank, people want to hear them. I’m expecting you to come to a lot of them, as a warning. You’ll be a very fancy business owner with an indulgent silent partner, you can have plenty of employees to cover your lavish vacations.

I’ll find a home base, in between concert tours. I’m sorry, but it’s likely to be Nellaser’s Landing. I don’t suppose I could convince you to move the business? No, don’t worry, I’ll visit all the time, if you don’t see me for at least one family meal a month you have license to yell at me. And I’ll visit my other loved ones too, and everyone I’ve met on my journeys, to check in on them, to make sure they’re recovering and give them a helping hand if they still need it.

Sometimes, when there are disasters, I’ll go out and do what I can to mitigate them. There are too many places like Rugira Prime, like so many other places I’ve been, where things can go horribly wrong and nobody can make it there in time to make a difference, but I can. The magic I’ve chosen is suited to healing and to fast travel, and that could be handy for natural disasters, for sudden attacks, and I’ll make use of it. Just because I’m letting the Procyon rest doesn’t mean I want there to ever be a chance of anyone else losing their family like I did. And sometimes Maliah, while she’s off making legends, will ask for my help, and I’ll go to her aid, like I know she always will for me. Every once in a while, I’ll find a stranger adventure: I’ll send the shard of the Ethereal Plane that Onver was using back where it belongs, with Gaizka’s help, or look at different corners of the Astral Sea and ask a star for dancing lessons while I try to improve my Celestial, or I’ll find a ship and look deeper into Kirim’s demiplane, if there’s much more of it.

Maybe, in a few years, you’ll invite me to your wedding, and only complain a little when I write a song for the occasion. And maybe a few years after that, I’ll invite you to mine—Brennu and I are still very new, but I wouldn’t have started something with him if I weren’t sure, and I hope he is too. Someday, I’ll have children, by adoption or by birth, that doesn’t really matter to me, ones I can raise, and I can ask you to be their godsfather and both of us can pretend not to cry over it.

In the long-term, maybe I’ll talk to you and Brennu about whether you’d like to stick around longer than your normal lifespans might allow, because I’ve spent enough time without my family, and I’ll drag Maliah back to the Deeping Wellemere to make that possible, but please don’t worry about that yet, we’ve got plenty of time to talk about it.

I’ll do a thousand things with the rest of my life, and I don’t expect it will all be easy, but here, on this afternoon where the sun is kind and my best friend is breathing life back into the ground not far away, I can only imagine good things.

Maybe someday, a long long time from now, when we’re all gone and this has passed into some kind of legend, there will be need for adventurers here on Aland, and they’ll land on a green planet that’s burst into forests and meadows, with some growing settlements, with the sun shining down bright and warm, and they’ll start a journey of their own. I hope they do. I hope it brings them as much as mine has brought me.

It seems like Maliah is nearly finished with her long day of spellwork, and I’m going to cast a Mansion so she has a chance for a hot bath and Squirt has a chance for some bacon. I think I’ll be back in two or three days, so don’t miss me too much, will you? Give all five parents my love, and let them know I’ll be home soon.

Love,

Elyn

#in character #in character: letter #letter to: tyko #episode 210 #location: aland #person: maliah #person: squirt #person: mehrnikorsa(niko)#looking ahead

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letterstosestrilles · 2 years

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Dear Brennu,

It will be a bit before I can send this one, and believe me, I’m going to be very relieved when Kirim is connected to wider communications networks, which is apparently due to happen in the next year or so, so it will be much easier to keep up with family here then, and to keep up with everyone at home when I’m here.

This time, at least, I have many of the people I care about with me—my Sestrilles family are all here for nearly a full month, and Maliah and Niko have promised to stay as long as I need them.

I’ve needed them, because even great joy is hard sometimes.

The first thing I had to do when I got here, aside from settle into the house set aside for us here in the city of Sunwest, was collect my Kirimi family around me: my grandmother Am’elyn, my aunt Khama’air, my cousin Tidge. I told them enough of what my latest and biggest quest was to explain why gods would feel they owed me a boon, and then I told them what that boon was. There were tears, and a lot more explanations, and we all took a few days to prepare, to talk about all of it some more, and in my and Am’elyn’s cases, to stop by the temple to the Lady of the Stars to give her fervent thanks.

Mishakal gave me the power to cast the spell three times without cost, and I thought that I could probably do them all at once, but that it was likely to drain me of nearly all my energy and bring my parents back to life with the very poor welcome of their daughter fainting on the floor.

So instead I wasted a whole day debating with myself what order to bring them back in, when I was so desperate to have all of them close enough to hold at the last moment that I couldn’t for the life of me decide. In the end, with a bit of cowardice, I decided to go not on my own desires but on the other family members left to my parents: to give Am’elyn back her son, Khama’air her sibling, Tidge his cousin.

That meant that, when I finally gathered everyone together (nearly a week ago now—as you might guess, I’ve been busy), I prayed to Mishakal and to the Lady of Stars and drew on my magic and called back my father Kadan. I’ve cast Raise Dead a few times, and Resurrection, watched a dead body stir back into life, but there was something strange and almost unbelievable in casting a huge magic and then there being a person where there wasn’t before, from nothing at all to someone who hasn’t been alive in half a century standing there in front of me, taking me in his arms, both of us staggering a little until we ended up on the floor.

I talked without realizing I was talking, trying to tell him everything at once, until he quieted me a little to say the more important things, and then I could pull myself together well enough to introduce him to my family, and my family to him. They all greeted him warmly, asked him questions but not too many, until both of us started to nod off, at which point my brother carried me off to bed over my somewhat muzzy objections.

The next day I brought back Hanai, who stepped forward to press our foreheads together almost immediately. They’re the one who gave me my earring before they put me in an escape pod and saved me, and they commented on it, with an apology for leaving me alone, and what could I say but that I wasn’t, with that close—and with the rest of my family as well? And then they could be introduced around as well, and to hold on tight to Kadan, to meet Alion and have a few pleasant minutes of scientific conversation. I was hardly out of range of touch of either of them for the rest of the day.

And the next day, with the last of my reserves of magic from Mishakal, with one more prayer, I brought back Ezenki, my other father, who paused just long enough to be startled at the very impressive match of our hair colors before hugging me, holding on tight until I beckoned and Kadan and Hanai could join us, all four of us together again for the first time since the day the Procyon wrecked.

Since then, it’s been days upon days of talking, in every possible combination. None of us wants to let the others out of our sight, so we’ve mostly set up camp in the house’s living room, only peeling off one or two at a time to take a break and cry or take a walk or simply nap alone.

The rest of my family seems to know exactly when to stay close and when to find things to do elsewhere. Maliah has been wandering the trails outside of Sunwest, sometimes taking Tidge or Niko along, and Niko has been exploring some textiles and working on learning a bit of gnomish. Alion and Tiriel, my Sestrilles parents, have after some brief awkwardness seemed to decide to adopt my Kirimi parents as honorary siblings, and my Kirimi parents have decided that since I consider Tyko a brother, he’s another son to them. I’ve already found Alion and Hanai talking about data storage, Tiriel getting a recipe from Ezenki, Kadan asking Tyko about his plans for buying the shop he runs.

It hasn’t all been easy. I never expected that it would be. Ezenki and Tidge have been working through a lot of awkwardness and grief, since a lot of their branch of the family was on the Procyon, Tidge’s parents included, and I couldn’t bring back everyone. Hanai and Khama’air have had at least one hissed argument they thought I couldn’t hear. Am’elyn can hardly seem to look at Kadan without crumbling into tears. I keep waking up at night wondering if I’ve made it all up, if I died after all in Onver’s lair and this is all just something I’m imagining.

We’ll be here a while, as we work through it. A few months, I’d say, though I hope you’ll get this letter before that, and more letters too. When my Sestrilles family goes home, maybe they’ll do a relay, or if Gaizka finds a diplomatic excuse to come as they threatened when they found out what I was doing, they should be able to set something up, or take a relay likewise.

And then I’ll come back, and start learning what I want my life to look like now. There are a few fixed points: the quest for Jhasdej, my own and Maliah’s, which I want to help her with. Giving some concerts, now that I’ve promised you, Maliah, and Tyko that I’ll do some. Devon’s college tour. You.

Other things are a mystery, but I can almost see the shape of them. I’ll find a somewhat permanent residence, and my parents want to live near me, to make up for some lost time, so I’ll have them close. I’ll find something useful to do, more about building than searching or destroying. I’ll have the people I love around me. And, I hope, very soon the joy will feel more real.

I think it will. One of my fathers just called for me, and it didn’t cause a moment of disbelief. It’s a good beginning, isn’t it?

Love,

Elyn

#in character #in character: letter #letter to: brennu zahin #episode 210 #location: kirim #person: kadan'riv ni huilin far-ehsan #person: hanai'fe ni huilin sul-saani #person: ezenki'maah ni huilin ken-asisan #people: alion and tiriel #person: tyko #person: maliah #person: mehrnikorsa(niko)#person: am'elyn'nar ni huilin far-ehsan #person: tidge (tehi'nem ni khisa ken-asisan)#person: khama'air ni udyati sul-saani #the search for the procyon #elyn and brennu

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letterstosestrilles · 2 years

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Dear Maliah,

As always, proof you can’t get rid of me, while we work on sourcing a Sending Stone. Are you and Marsa enjoying yourselves? It sounds like you are, from what you’ve said. I loved your letter from her ship, taking the time to enjoy it, and I’m delighted that the two of you are enjoying all Caliz Beta has to offer, skydiving and all, and that you’re already planning future getaways, just as you should.

Brennu and I are having a beautiful time on Solovei, and a much quieter one. We’ve found a lovely oceanside house some distance away from where you and I had our cave diving lessons, where the beaches are sandier and the temperatures warmer. We’re walking distance from town, and we go most days, to grab supplies for dinner or to see a local concert or museum, but we spend a lot of time on the shore or on our deck, looking out over the water and talking. Sometimes serious, we’re both inclined that way, but sometimes just commenting on the birds or telling silly stories. Sometimes reading aloud from the bag full of romances he brought along with him.

We spend time playing music, too, and he’s still a beginner, but it’s just as satisfying, in its way, as playing with Dwiona, because we’re still making something beautiful, and playing with someone you care about always makes it matter more.

It’s easier, these days, to swim in the ocean, but I’m not pushing myself very hard, not going out to where it’s hard to see the shore. If I ever need to do that, I’ve got time to figure it out, and like I said, it’s easier. Maybe it’s a sign I’m more settled in myself these days. Maybe it’s a sign that I’ve dealt with so much terror that some older ones bother me less. Most probably it’s a combination. Maybe you have a few similar things.

(Given it seems like you were skydiving without your amulet for at least part of the time, I’m guessing so.)

I’ve never, as an adult, shared space with someone in such a domestic way. First I was on ships, in my own quarters, and any relationships I had were fleeting, any kitchens shared by a dozen people at least. Then I was adventuring, and you know how that was: inns, houses and apartments that didn’t belong to us, guest rooms of friends and family, where as often as not we didn’t bother cooking, and then the Mansion, where we didn’t need to cook.

Now, Brennu is laughing at me and telling me to stop holding my knife like a dagger while I’m chopping vegetables, and I have conquered the needlessly complicated coffee machine in the kitchen after a week’s battle, and we’ve had our first domestic squabbles about him putting things on shelves I can’t reach without thinking and me casting Prestidigitation to clean up what I thought was a mess which was actually the makings of a lunch. The house is private enough that I know any noises are the two of us, not strangers at an inn, and small enough that if he’s moving around, I do hear exactly where he is, which made me jump a little for the first few days and now is just nice.

In another week, our rental runs out, and Marsa runs out of leave for her ship, and it’s going to be time to go to Kirim and start on the next chapter of my journey. I’m going to miss Brennu, and the quiet here, but it’s a lot easier to plan on leaving when I know I’m not going off to risk my life. Another while, and maybe we won’t have to leave each other as often, though I know there’s a lot of time and learning each other to do before I start counting on that.

Still, it’s nice to hope, and not have it be the desperate kind we were surviving on for a while there.

I’m looking forward to seeing you, and hearing all your stories from the past month, at least those fit for my ears. Thank you again for coming along, if I’m too frazzled to say it when I see you. It means everything to me.

Love,

Elyn

#in character #in character: letter #letter to: maliah #episode 210 #location: solovei #person: brennu zahin #elyn and brennu

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letterstosestrilles · 2 years

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Dear Brennu,

I’m sorry I had so little time to speak to you when I stopped by the other day, really just enough time to give you a shorthand about what I’d been up to that must have been terrifying. Short messages haven’t really felt like enough since then, but I did want to write, and I’ve got a bit of time on Sestrilles now with my family here, since I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that I’m due for weekly dinner but turned up three days early for it.

Everything since I’ve come back to the Prime Material Plane from defeating Aturav Onver has been simple recovery, trying to go through the motions of victory and feeling it in glimmers in between feeling baffled or worried or guilty, less for what I did for him and more for what I didn’t have the knowledge or magic to do for my friends. Everyone, all our friends and family, have been so kind and graceful about it. Gaizka listened, asked a few questions, and quietly provided a handkerchief when answering them proved a bit much. Our friend Bizza, who owns a crepe shop on Sumula Station where I plan to bring you someday for the nicest crepes you’ve had in your life, served us practically the whole menu for free (though in retaliation I stuffed his tip jar). The children on Nosirion-1, who’d known there was danger but not quite how much, were reassured to see us, and willing to tell us boring stories about school.

Here on Sestrilles, everything feels very real, what I’ve done and what comes next. My brother Tyko has returned my PA bot to me, since I’d left it with him while I was off doing dangerous things, and apparently used it to find a whole forum full of people who follow various bards, where it seems, to my utter surprise, that I have something of a following. I don’t quite know what to do with that, though he and Maliah agree that I should be putting on some concerts, so maybe I’ll do that at some point.

I’ve also had a chance to talk with Maliah alone, outside of the adrenaline rush and then crash of the immediate aftermath of a hard battle. We both agreed that we’re coping, as best we can, with help from our families and therapy and time, not to mention each other. And we’ve started talking, a little, about what comes next.

While there are loose ends, people who Onver was corresponding with who need to be researched to make sure they’re not going to make more trouble, I think that’s not our job. There are others who can do it better—certainly more quietly, those forums have been a sharp lesson in how recognizable we apparently are. And we need rest, and to step away from destruction and toward renewal, a new kind of adventuring, the kind that’s really worth the power.

It won’t, we know, all be together. She has a whole planet to work on renewing, as part of an agreement we made with a star, and while I plan on helping her, it’s work that’s very much part of her expertise and very much not part of mine. There are places I’ll be more useful, so we’ll see a lot of each other, but it won’t be constant companionship anymore. Another adjustment to make.

The next thing we’re going to do together, though, is bring my parents back. It’s the boon I asked, for what I did, and Mishakal was kind enough to grant it. I can cast the spell enough times to bring them home, and soon I want to do it, to give them the chance to live they deserve, and myself the chance to know them that I deserve. I’m bringing Maliah with me for that, and Niko too, and my Sestrilles family. I’d invite you, as much as you’ve helped me, as much as I think you would help there, but I also think it’s a bit soon to meet either side of my family, maybe? We’ll save that for once my parents are acclimated, and once you and I have been on more than just a few dates.

First, though, if we can arrange it in time, I want to be in the best state I can be when I bring them back, and you and I have promised each other a vacation. I know a nice planet with a warm blue-green ocean, and I’m sure there’s a house there we could rent for a month, maybe starting in a couple of weeks. What do you say?

Love,

Elyn

#in character #in character: letter #letter to: brennu zahin #episode 210 #location: sestrilles #looking ahead #elyn and brennu

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letterstosestrilles · 2 years

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Thread: Any Elyn of Procyon sightings lately?

station.eri: It’s been months, and not so much as a streetside jam session! Has anybody out there seen her and not had a chance to film it? Being into adventuring bards is the worst, I am never doing this again, please somebody say they saw her lounging on a beach somewhere or something. Not even asking for seeing her promoting a concert, just hoping she didn’t get wrapped up in something nasty!

orc.arina: I’ve got nothing, and I’ve been keeping my eye out too. Maybe she’s undercover? We’ve got evidence she was doing that on Rugira Prime, anyway. Or she could be off-plane, she’s got a lot of extraplanar repertoire and we wouldn’t know if she was on her home demiplane or something.

tykoofprocyon: @orc.arina Yes, she’s off-plane, giving me gray hairs. Adventuring, not learning new repertoire. She probably would tell me not to make this post, but she gets to have an opinion when she is not risking her life.

orc.arina: @tykoofprocyon Who are you??? Is this a new account for @pikaboo?

station.eri: Risking her life doing WHAT, mysterious stranger???

tykoofprocyon: @orc.arina Her brother. I’m looking after her PA bot while she’s away and it found these forums for me. No, I’m not Pika. @station.eri Unfortunately for you, I’m not quite angry enough at her to tell you exactly what she’s doing. I’ll just say she’s off-plane, and I’m hoping she’ll have plenty of time for making music when she comes back.

lvl20lute: I come home from work to a new E of P thread and it’s this? @tykoofprocyon you think we haven’t had impersonations on here before? Proof or I’ll call a mod in here to ban you!

tykoofprocyon: @lvl20lute {picture of a PA bot in a toy car, its display screen showing words in rainbow text saying “Hi! I am Elyn of Procyon’s friend!” Next to it, someone’s hand is holding up a picture of an adolescent Elyn looking miserable on what must be school picture day.}

lvl20lute: Holy shit @clary-net get in here, we have a visitation, please verify

station.eri: I cannot BELIEVE

clary-net: @lvl20lute No sign of tampering in the photo! Either a really dedicated stalker or actually who he says he is. In which case, @tykoofprocyon, can I ask why you’re here?

tykoofprocyon: @clary-net Frankly, trying to freak her out maybe a tenth as much as she is freaking me out on the current quest she’s on. I think it’s going to work, she doesn’t actually realize she’s famous

station.eri: TELL HER WE LOVE HER AND PLEASE RELEASE AN ALBUM.

tykoofprocyon: @station.eri Thanks, that is exactly the kind of thing that will get me what I want here.

orc.arina: Honestly that’s very real sibling energy, I am willing to bet a whole lot of money that he’s telling the truth just for that. @station.eri maybe dial it back two or three notches? I want to actually get that album!

Thread: Elyn of Procyon tour information!

officialeofprocyon: Hello! I know Elyn has a lot of fans on these boards, so I wanted the pleasure of announcing her first tour to all of you first, so you can get tickets. Please also keep your eyes open for the official album announcement for the tour! Elyn will be beginning her tour on Nellaser’s Landing and ending in Mashoy on Rugira Prime, with plenty of stops between, please have a look at venues and dates in the attached image. {Informational graphic with tour dates and locations, as well as opening acts where relevant}

officialeofprocyon: Note: this account is not run by Elyn herself, I’m her publicist and can’t answer any personal questions.

shapednote: Holy shit she’s starting here!!!!!! Gods all bless Gaizka Zebari for befriending her (also gossip says she’s got a place on-station, in all fairness, but I definitely haven’t seen her busking around lately. Maybe she’s been too busy recording!). I’ve got space for two guests if she’s not coming to everyone’s locations, first come first served if we’ve talked a few times!

clary-net: And she’s coming here too! Cannot wait to spend way more than is strictly wise on merch if there is going to be any. @officialeofprocyon Should I be preparing myself there?

officialeofprocyon: @clary-net We’re hoping to have at least a few things aside from physical copies of the album, but I’ll be sure to post here when there’s more information.

witherzither: @tykoofprocyon Is this legit? I trust you not to lie to us. Unless it’s you playing another joke on your sister.

tykoofprocyon: @witherzither Yes, this is true, and no, I am not Elyn’s publicist, which I think we are both grateful for on a daily basis. @officialeofprocyon B, you couldn’t have warned me this was going up today? My LICD has been pinging nonstop.

station.eri: @shapednote ME ME ME, I will do so much theory analysis for you. Also: AHHHHHH, it’s only been YEARS

orc.arina: Damn, not coming through here, but I’ll see where I can take a trip to easily. Thank you for letting us know, @officialeofprocyon!!!!!

shapednote: I would say you have to pretend to be cool but I feel like that’s never going to happen, which is honestly fine, I’m not going to be cool either, since we’re finally getting a CONCERT!!!!!!!!!

station.eri: ALL MY DREAMS ARE COMING TRUE

officialeofprocyon: @tykoofprocyon She says to tell you that you wouldn’t be getting so many pings if you didn’t have an alert on her name for these boards. Any further messages should definitely get passed between the two of you.

Thread: Elyn of Procyon’s “Grace” Tour Opener Discussion

station.eri: Okay, I’ve had time to sleep and time to scream a little bit (thanks to @shapednote for putting me up in the walk-in closet with the acoustic paneling, you understand me so well), so now it’s time to talk about the concert! At last!

To start with, the openers: their names are Nuli and Thvara, we’ve actually seen video of them on the forums before. They specialize in crafter ballads, and they’re opening for the first few stops of the tour. A bit of a weird choice, they’re very traditional, but they seem to be friends! @shapednote took a lot of notes during their section, there’s going to be a breakdown of some lyrical differences to a well-known crafter ballad about the Ollamh harp, apparently, so look out for that.

Elyn herself seemed surprised by how many people were singing along when the album had only been out for three days, once she came out there! The setlist was about three quarters things from the album and one quarter whatever she was in the mood for, including one improvised encore that I may or may not have recorded. And she sang a song about her friend, whose name is apparently Maliah, though the ballad called her “Firetongue” a lot, which is pretty badass.

She had a whole cheering section there, not to get distracted from the music! From what she said, several parents, her brother (hi, @tykoofprocyon), and a whole lot of friends, including Gaizka Zebari, though it took @shapednote a good half the concert to recognize them, since they were not wearing wizard robes.

But you’re here for the setlist, so let me get down into the nitty gritty:

[Please expand to continue reading]

station.eri: Also, on a more personal note, GUESS WHO GOT HER AUTOGRAPH!!!!!! @shapednote and I got in the line after the show, which was most of a very large auditorium, and got to say hi. So much of her family and friends were around her, which was so nice! She signed my album and shook my hand and I think I probably embarrassed myself, but I blanked out a little so it’s hard to be sure.

shapednote: Can confirm all of this! Also Eri just says she blanked out because she definitely proposed to Elyn of Procyon the second she was within earshot of her and they both looked horrified until the publicist, who is apparently also her boyfriend, said that might not work out very well but thanked her for coming.

station.eri: You know what, I would be mad, but on consideration, why should I be ashamed of proposing to the universe’s most luminous woman, even if she is already taken? I can’t believe we’ve come all the way from an unknown in a jam on Sumula to a sold-out show in one of the biggest venues in known space. The #jamcryptid reigns supreme.

#out of character #out of character: forum posts #episode 210

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letterstosestrilles · 2 years

Text

Dear Tyko,

I’m trying to keep you updated as best I can with Sending now that we’re not in immediate danger, but that’s so few words, and I’ve had so many other people to speak to, that I know I’ve missed things out, so I’m going to write them all down and you’ll just have to forgive me if I’m repeating information.

To start, a gloriously normal sentence: we’ve just arrived on Nellaser’s Landing, and have retreated to our bedrooms to change into clean clothes that aren’t base layers for armor before ordering in a massive quantity of food and alcohol, at which point we fully intend to consume as much of it as possible while watching all the romantic films we can prop our eyes open for. Apparently I completely missed one from last year starring Uvri bint Bayza sul-Lidakh, so we’ll probably start there.

The days between my last letter and this night of alcohol and movies have been a lot less normal, though, as I’m very sure you’ve guessed.

Last I wrote, we were resting up in anticipation of ransacking Onver’s lair for more information. Niko and I had spared pretty much all the magical healing we safely could, so we were left to do the rest of what we could with stitches and poultices and ice packs, all of us pulling ourselves back together as best was could. I can already tell we’re going to have some nasty scars out of this one. Maliah’s neck is the most visible, cutting right across one of the curling scars she’s had from displacer beasts as long as I’ve known her. Niko and I both have sword scars, hers a stab in the hip where he leveraged her armor apart and mine across the shoulder (cut the strap of my armor right open; I’ve got enough holes in it thanks to him that I might need to buy new instead of repairing, at this point, though I’ll hate to lose the dragon armor), both with branching burns like lightning from the attendant electricity.

Scars or sore muscles or magical exhaustion notwithstanding, we had work to do, so when we’d managed to get ourselves to our feet and finally given Maliah the hug she very much deserved and needed after dying and coming back, we set to ransacking Onver’s lair.

Niko, almost as soon as she stood up, had all the blood rush right out of her head, and she sat down while Maliah and I swept everything fairly indiscriminately into the bag of holding. Maliah took the desks, tossing in all his active work and papers, as well as a few files of correspondence. I took the bookshelves, which had a very good collection of technical manuals, both the engineering and the arcane kind, as well as a few other things—bestiaries, maps, dimensional magic. A good portion of it was in Primordial, so I didn’t get much out of it, but I put it all in the bag nonetheless, and then we set ourselves to trying to figure out where the man was actually living, since we didn’t see anywhere to eat or sleep.

Maliah, after some searching, found a storage room mostly full of tools and materials (I stole you a wrench), with a Teleportation Circle carved in the floor. She reported to me, sticking her head out, that there was some kind of arcane residue in there, so I went in to look around. There was definitely spellwork in there, and I spent a few minutes of paranoia wondering if he’d been going back and forth to somewhere, if he’d be missed or avenged, before Maliah’s suggestion that he’d perhaps cast a Magnificent Mansion popped through the bubble of leftover fear and adrenaline. He had, and must have been using it long enough that he had few personal possessions of his own, since none of them got tossed out when the Mansion ended at his death, so we left that room without any more answers.

There wasn’t much more to be done by then, and we were all flagging, so we started collecting ourselves to leave. I used our Ink of Moon-Scribing to write all the memorial Onver deserves on the floor, and Maliah and Niko discussed the merits of setting the place on fire, which was Maliah’s very reasonable instinct.

However, there was a very big magical glowing maybe-a-rock to consider, and none of us were completely certain if it was flammable, or what it was. The best theory I could come up with on my own was that in the dark parts of the Feywild, there’s little magic because in the absence of light it all crystallizes into the occasional rock scattered around. The next best was that Onver had created or concentrated it somehow. An Identify, however, taught me better, once I got up on Niko’s shoulders so I could reach the thing: it’s a piece of the Ethereal Plane, sheered off centuries upon centuries ago and dropped in the ground, found and used as a battery by Onver, and it will remain until the power it holds has been used up, which I imagine would take a staggeringly long time, given how massive it is and how even a Wish seems to have changed its size and its vibrancy not at all.

It’s not conscious, precisely, but it still seems rather a lonely thing. You know me, I perhaps overidentify with people and things far from their homes and any chance of returning. Maybe, after quite a long time of resting, I’ll go back and see if I can figure out how to return it to where it belongs.

Still, it had helped us all very much during the fight, was the reason Onver was dead and Maliah was alive again, since Niko and I couldn’t have cast those magics without it, and between our worries that it might not behave like normal rock and basic politeness, we decided not to set the place on fire.

Instead, I collected us all together, pulled out a pebble I’d taken from near my last casting of the Mansion, and Teleported us back to Cerunwe.

I had just enough time to feel like I’d gone from a jungle to a desert, where available magic was concerned, before there was movement behind a rock. I didn’t even have time to get my defenses back up before the movement proved to be Cerunwe, scouting the area for a safe place to wait for us, since my Mansion was less than an hour for running out. We gave zir a very quick and confused explanation, and I decided to cast a cantrip to see our chances of getting back to the light side of the Feywild on the magic I had remaining to me.

It was just a quick Prestidigitation, aimed at cleaning us up, and left us scoured like we’d been rubbed with soap, and when I looked in some surprise at my gloves, I found that the glass on the backs was glowing very faintly pink—the chip of the Ethereal Plane having some sympathy for me, maybe, like I’d just had for it.

I wasn’t going to waste that extra charge. We very quickly figured out where we needed to go (I suggested Cerunwe’s bolthole, Cerunwe parried that the Lady of the Ashenwalds has beds and would be glad to provide hospitality, I decided I was too tired to play chess and figure out if she would expect a look at Onver’s notes as payment for the hospitality; to her credit, she did not), and I cast Teleport once more, with a pretty piece of glass from Cerunwe as the focus.

The magic itself, with the pink light from my gloves, was bright in the total darkness there, and I was blinking for several seconds after with the afterimage and then with even the muted dusky light of the Lady’s lands. We’d arrived in a stone hall hung with jewel-toned fabrics, and the light coming through the windows was more luminous blue than golden, but even that felt bright, and while I’d used up nearly all my magic for the day, I could still feel that if I called it, it would come, no matter that the extra glow had dissipated from my gloves.

The Lady of the Ashenwalds greeted us kindly, and there was no discussion whatsoever of price for hospitality, so I decided that probably she’d surmised that we had, in the long-term, saved a lot of existence, and felt that was a good enough bargain for a night of comfortable beds and good food.

We were all offered our own rooms, but I didn’t like to let Maliah out of my sight, since the last time I’d been apart from her she’d been killed, and Niko seemed to feel the same, so we all bedded down in Maliah’s rooms, and let her cry into Squirt as much as she needed. We were all tired, dozing in between chatting even before we properly fell asleep, talking about our plans for the next day and a little bit about our feelings on the battle. I don’t think it really helped any of us, I don’t think anything will help for a while, not with Maliah’s death and all of our worries and insecurities all tangled up, but we made a beginning, anyway.

The next morning, we ate a truly awe-inspiring amount of breakfast and retreated to a corner where I could use some of my refreshed magic to Send to the white dragon that had been keeping guard now that we were a safe distance from them. I said that Onver was dead, with my apologies if they’d actually cared for him and the news that they were free if they’d been a prisoner. I was met with laughter (apparently, as far as ancient dragons are concerned, I’m a regular comedian, the void dragon thought I was funny too. Fair enough, I suppose), and an assurance that the dragon had figured that out, and was returning to their family with, they hoped, no ill feelings either way.

Then I let Andry and Shaena know that Maliah wanted to see them urgently and asked where to meet them, and Shaena told me they were waiting at the jump ring where we’ve met them before. So we said our goodbyes and thanks to the Lady of the Ashenwalds, and more detailed goodbyes and thanks to Cerunwe, with promises that we’ll tell zir more details when we plan an adventure to Aland, and off we went.

Andry and Shaena greeted Maliah with such an intense hug that they toppled her over, and Niko and I withdrew for a little while, Niko to drink some tea and me to Send to you at last, so I don’t need to tell you that bit. It was an hour or so before we did much else, and I don’t think either of Maliah’s mothers was out of arm’s reach of her for several hours, despite her not actually telling them about her death (not that I blame her, for damn sure if I’d died I’d be begging you not to tell Alion and Tiriel for a few months until I could shape the words).

We stayed for, I think, a day and a half. Mostly, Maliah spent time with her mothers, and somewhat with us. For a while, though, she disappeared into a nearby clearing to pray, much to my relief, since it always seems to center her, and she came back out of the clearing with Peanut in tow, healthy and delighted to get some attention and food from all of us. Apparently she and Cernunnos had a conversation, and like ours, it didn’t help, exactly, but it laid the groundwork for things to help in time.

Eventually, we knew we had to go, and promised Shaena and Andry to see them on one side or another of the jump ring. Peanut wandered off into the underbrush, where the rustling stopped almost immediately as she presumably went off to wherever Cernunnos keeps energetic young displacer beasts, and after a few more last-minute words, I used a Wish and took us back to Reorx’s realm, the little island on it where Mishakal had first sent us.

The plane looks much healthier now. The sky is still changeable, but everything else only changes at Reorx’s choice, and the place is much lighter, too. We walked across to the door with no trouble and only a little trepidation, and Emulf greeted us at the door with a huge hug for Niko and smiles for all of us. He invited us in, asking if we wanted refreshment before our audience, and I asked about tea and was very glad about it, because the mug gave me something to hold onto when we were eventually escorted into a round collaboration room and were confronted with three gods, not Reorx alone.

Reorx was in gnomish form, with wild hair, more energetic and composed than I’d seen them yet. Mishakal was in a form closer to mortal than I’d yet seen her, human-sized to my eyes even if her features were still indistinct. And the Lady of Stars was there, smiling at me, easier to see than ever before, when there was light beyond starlight there. They all welcomed us in, Reorx most of all as host, clasping Niko’s hands and ruffling Squirt’s fur as we all sat down and started taking out stacks of books and paper.

Niko, bless all her works, was the one to actually tell them the story of what we experienced and saw on our way to Onver and then in his lair, describing his abilities and his appearance and the chip of Ethereal Plane and really everything, answering questions as they were asked and asking for our help for the bits she wasn’t present for.

When that was done, the gods, mostly Reorx, went at impossible speeds through some of the books and papers and gave us what answers they could, since our questions were what they’ve always been: who and what Onver was, what he wanted, how he’d done it. Some of those answers we might never get, since anything he cared about enough to keep close, any secrets, were dissolved into ash with his body. Still, Reorx could give us guesses: Onver was some kind of very powerful elemental being who had been planning his moves for a long time, at least three to four centuries, at a guess (there’s a good chance he’s known about the bolthole in the Feywild for that long, at least). His aim seems to have been power and power alone, all of it for him with no responsibility, and he’d been gaining it from various places: the Ethereal Plane, of course, various elemental planes, he was making plans about the Shadowfell but it’s hard to know if he enacted those. Regardless, he was swelling himself up like a tick with stolen power, which explains at least some about the sheer diversity of things he could do. There’s evidence he could cast Geas, which seems to be what happened to the poor dragon who thought I was so funny, and which, well—it’s not like we didn’t suspect that he’s involved with Shaan and Cloudleaper’s mother in a warlock kind of way, but that makes it all the more likely.

(Though Mishakal did say, with a little smile, that we don’t need to concern ourselves with that problem, another deity has taken an interest.)

Some things we’ll never know. Others we’ll learn in time, maybe from whatever plans get enacted to deal with the people he was corresponding with, people who are ambitious or intelligent or just interested in power.

The gods didn’t seem all that interested in dwelling on Onver, though. They don’t have a mortal’s curiosity for loose ends, perhaps. Instead, the Lady of Stars turned to us and said that we’ve done the universe a great service, much more than mortals could be asked or expected to do, and that we’re owed boons for it, and then everyone looked at me.

Was there ever really a doubt what I would ask for? There are a thousand things I want (as much healing for Brennu as he wants, information about what happened to the Procyon, all my friends and family happy and healthy and safe), but only one that could be a boon to balance against a task this big, and Mishakal seemed prepared for the question. (I suspect the Lady of Stars of having primed her beforehand.)

There were, she said, three ways she could give me what I want: she could call them back for me. She could give me the spell, mine as surely as Sending or Wish. Or she could give me the capacity to cast it the three necessary times without cost. The first option I could discard, because my pride wants me to do it, and there’s also the practicality of wanting to choose the time and place to give them the best chance to acclimate. And the second … I was tempted. But I thought of you, and what you would think, what you’d choose or advise me to do. And I thought, and think, that if I knew the spell, three times would never be enough for me. I’d drown myself in the guilt of being able to cast it and not saving absolutely everyone who deserved to live and didn’t, and I’d spend every scrap of gold I’ve ever earned and more bringing back the whole crew of the Procyon, anyone else who’s been lost unfairly, well past what would be wise or sane.

So I chose the last, and Mishakal touched my forehead and I felt the swirl of magic in me like a swallow of hot tea you can feel all the way down, a sort of pleasant burn. It will stay there, patient, until I’m ready to use it, which I imagine will be some weeks, because I want to do it on Kirim, where there will be familiar surroundings and their other family members there to greet them, but I also want to do it with you there, and for preference, Alion and Tiriel too. I don’t want to go back, have the family I should have had growing up. I want the family I have now, and that means a lot of people these days.

Maliah and Niko both deferred their boons. Maliah was flustered, and Niko says that she wants to get to know herself again before she chooses. Squirt, however, knew just what he wanted, and trotted up to Mishakal to confer with her, and she smiled and said that Squirt didn’t want to leave her, and that he’ll live about as long as she does now, instead of aging like a normal blink dog would.

With that, though, Mishakal excused herself, with the warning that news is going to spread (or rather, with the warning that she’s going to spread the news, among her followers, and that it will probably go on from there, especially with other gods also passing the news along. I thought about asking her why on earth she would feel the need to share that, but I suspect her of finding the prospect of our discomfort amusing). Maliah and Squirt were chatting, and Niko and Reorx were exchanging a few words, so I turned to the Lady of Stars, to thank her once again for her help and protection, and for the courage she gave me in the dark side of the Feywild. She said that she’ll keep her eye on me, and I asked her to bless Damaris Nimate’s work in whatever ways she can as well, because I won’t be able to quite rest easy until I know what happened to the Procyon and Damaris is my best way of finding out what it was. She promised she would do what she could and left.

Niko asked, a little shy, if we’d mind staying a day or two so she could see her last two companions, who had arrived in our absence, and we of course agreed, so that’s where we’ve been before a few hours ago, on Reorx’s plane. Her remaining friends are just as interesting and fun to spend time with as Emulf and Dwiona (I had a lovely jam session or two with her, Nuli and Thvara really are going to die of envy), and were glad and grateful to see her, and she them too, especially since the last time she saw Achenna she was almost sure they were dead.

Eventually, though, we all agreed it was time to get back to the Prime Material Plane—even Niko, to my surprise, who says that she wants to see it with her memories intact, and that she wants to get more comfortable in her own skin again before returning to Reorx’s companionship. I’m glad. I’d feared we’d have to leave her behind, only seeing her for visits, and as I frankly admitted, that’s an intimidating door to knock on.

There were a hundred places I wanted to go, when we made the decision to come. Nosirion-1, to see the children and Aluarashi, who passed a message through the other deities that they’d be happy to see us. Sestrilles, to see you and everyone else and to pick PA up. Mashoy, for a date with Brennu, who has taken the planning for our vacation into his hands, though he’s putting off picking dates.

In the end, we decided on Nellaser’s Landing, because Niko asked, sometime in these last hectic weeks, for a night of drink and romantic movies as I described at the beginning of this letter, and it’s the least we all deserve. Tomorrow, once we’ve spelled away the hangovers, we’ll tell Gaizka the end of the story, and then we’ll decide where to go next.

There’s a lot to come. Kirim and my parents not the least of that, and all of our tasks for Jhasdej, where I think we’ll all go to Aland to help Maliah restore it, and the piece of the Ethereal Plane keeps tapping at my attention, how cold and barren that part of the Feywild must feel to it. Good things, worthy things. Things that might not save the universe, but which shouldn’t put us in mortal danger, either.

And maybe you’ll take a vacation, aside from coming to Kirim with me, and I can finally show you some of the places and people I love in person. I’d really love that. I hope that you would too. You’ve got plenty of time to schedule the time off, though—first order of business is that family dinner I promised, and me reclaiming my poor robot, who I’m sure you’ve taught terrible habits in my absence.

Well, second order of business. First order of business is the round of cocktails Maliah just Messaged to ask me to get started on, and the first movie of our marathon.

Love,

Elyn

#in character #in character: letter #letter to: tyko #episode 209 #location: the feywild #location: reorx's plane #location: nellaser's landing #person: maliah #person: mehrnikorsa(niko)#person: squirt #person: cerunwe #person: aturav onver #person: the lady of the ashenwalds #deity: reorx #deity: Cernunnos #deity: the lady of stars #deity: mishakal #person: peanut #people: andry and shaena

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letterstosestrilles · 2 years

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Dear Tyko,

It’s done. We won. By inches, if that, but we won, and we’re all sitting here in Onver’s lair patching ourselves up, and that makes me believe that even if I’m in too much shock and pain right now to imagine it, everything is going to be okay.

We woke up this morning in the Mansion and made our last grim preparations. I gave Cerunwe my IICD with some letters on it in case of disaster (I’m writing on Maliah’s right now, she does not feel equal to the task of writing to her mothers so immediately in the aftermath), and am going to be delighted to edit some and wholly delete others. We talked about how long we hoped Cerunwe would wait for us, discussed a few checkpoints if we lost each other, and when that was done and we’d had as much breakfast as we could keep down, we started out.

It was a whole morning’s walk and more, with Maliah in front with the map. It’s quiet in this part of the Feywild. Every step across the rock seems to crunch and echo, and the only other thing you can hear is the wind, whistling sometimes where a rock has been forced up out of the ground at an angle. We followed the map up and over some of those angled rocks and across many more. The very few stars were behind us, and they shed almost no light, so the world was gray and chill and parched, of water and magic both. We ate a few rations while we walked, when we got hungry and the morning’s walk shaded into what would be the early afternoon, if there were any damn light.

Eventually, the map told us we were getting close, and there was a jut of rock bigger and sharper than any of the ones we’d seen before. There was no tower, no camp, but the map told us we were close and showed us a similar rock, so we decided to investigate, and Maliah insisted the rest of us stay quiet and still a little ways away while she looked for entrances or any other sign of habitation. She cast Pass Without Trace (it’s a miracle it took, looking back on it, I hadn’t even dared to try Prestidigitation when I spilled water on my arm while walking) and went off, leaving me praying to every god I even thought might hear me for whatever blessing they could provide.

Everything was quiet, and then there was a loud noise, and the beat of wings, and Niko and Squirt and I all looked up to see the biggest dragon I’ve ever seen (though to give credit to the void drake, they might be around the same size, it’s just that the void drake blended so well I couldn’t quite get a handle on his size). They were white, I could see that even in the almost-nonexistent light, and the size of a house before you start bothering about things like tails and wingspan, and we all froze there like so many terrified mice until they returned to their roost on part of the rock.

Not long after, Maliah came creeping back to us, to my extreme relief, unharmed. The dragon had figured out something was nearby, but hadn’t seen her. However, they were very much on alert, and we were left wondering what to do, because while Maliah hopefully said that perhaps Onver was hiding out in a different piece of rock, everything I’ve heard about white dragons says that normally, they would be off in that tundra doing battle with the massive snow leopard, not in this barren place sitting on a rock and patrolling around it. Incredible as it seemed, Onver had somehow managed to get a dragon in his service, playing guard dog for him.

That only made all of us more scared, but we went on anyway. Maliah still had Pass Without Trace, and we all crept forward under it, staging our way along, hiding behind rocks, trying to stay to the far side of where the dragon was looking. Eventually, we got close to the rock, and to a dark place underneath that looked like it might just be an entrance of some kind.

The easiest thing to do, we decided, would be to make a distraction that would pull the dragon away so we could make a break for it. Our distractions, though, didn’t work. Maliah tried to summon an animal to tempt it away, and then I tried to Shatter a nearby rock, but neither worked, neither got anywhere close to working.

But we were close, and we were still under Pass Without Trace, so we plucked up our courage and sneaked, slowly but surely, forward, and made it under a shelf of rock, under the dragon, where we took a few deep breaths and looked around. Not far away, recessed a little into the rock, was a set of heavy metal doors, no doorknobs or anything. We tried pushing on them as quietly as we could, but that didn’t work, and Maliah couldn’t find a keyhole to pick, which left us with one option, which wasn’t very sneaky at all: a Chime of Opening. It was in the bag from Avka’s hoard, and it opens doors, but it rings out a very loud noise while it does, so we could get in, but we’d lose anything like the hope of an ambush, and we’d have the dragon after us in a second.

Still, we didn’t have a lot of other options, Pass Without Trace was going to end soon, and our frantic whispering would only blend in with the whistling wind for so long. So Maliah got her bow out to cover us if necessary, Niko got ready to heave on the doors, and I rang the doorbell.

It sang out, echoing off the rock, seeming to carry so far that Cerunwe might have heard it, tucked away in the Mansion hours away, and the dragon let out a terrifying snarl as the doors swung open. Niko all but shoved all of us through and came through last herself, just in time to slam the doors shut as the dragon unleashed their icy cold breath. The doors frosted over, and she heaved her shoulder against them and seemed to wince at the cold, but a lock mechanism came back into place, and the dragon was left impotently roaring on the other side, and we were left in a room that was dark, but not quite as dark as the outside.

Someone had renovated, that was clear enough. It was a natural cavern where the rock had been pushed up, but someone had widened it a little, cleared it out, and put a set of stone stairs doing down at the far end. In the middle … I still don’t know if it’s something Onver brought here or if it’s a natural thing he found, but there’s a massive crystal, and it started in that chamber and extended down and down (to the bottom of the shaft, we later found). It was a swirl of dizzying colors that reminded me of nothing so much as the swirling pool that leads to Mishakal’s realm, just frozen into one shape and glowing in all its colors, just bright enough that I had to blink a few times after walking through the darkness for hours. And as I got closer, it’s like I felt the hum in the air that I did in Reorx’s plane, something like the Chords of Creation in the distance, and I felt the magic in the room, there to reach out and use if I needed it, the first hope I had that I was going to be of any use to my friends.

Onver wasn’t obliging enough to greet us at the door, but he had to know we were there, after the chime and the dragon and all, so Niko and I didn’t bother with the element of surprise. Maliah and Squirt waited and sneaked down almost half a staircase behind us, and we strolled in like we’d been invited to tea.

Peering down the staircase, it was dark, but I could see a few things: a small bridge leading to a raised dais, all sorts of shelves, metal glinting on the far end of the room. And, as we got to the bottom, out of the shadows came Aturav Onver.

I still don’t know precisely what he was. He could have been wearing a disguise to the end. But he came to us in semi-elemental form, something between a genasi and whatever the rock-related version of a Marid is. He was slate gray shot through with veins of gently-glowing golden crystal, with a craggy face and hair pulled back in a knot, wearing armor and carrying a sword, which somehow didn’t fit right with my image of him, when I’d thought of him as a more scholarly and scientific kind of person, which always puts me in mind of Gaizka. Then again, I’m a bard wandering around in dragon hide armor, so who am I to judge?

Anyway, he greeted us with a sarcastic quip about the doorbell, and I’m not afraid to admit that I was miffed about it, since I’d been planning to make nearly the same joke. I made one in response, but he really didn’t care about me. Oh, he was willing enough to hurt me (and all of us), I discovered that right off, but he really only cared about Niko. Us he wanted out of the way. Her, I think he would have toyed with if he’d had the chance.

He did call out that Maliah might as well come down, since he’d heard her creeping down behind us, and then, since he didn’t particularly seem to be in the mood to helpfully share all his plans and secrets, we squared off.

By then, I could see that the glints of metal I’d seen were his drill, on the far side of the room, visibly crackling with electricity, and I focused on those as Maliah’s first arrow came whistling out of the darkness. Onver almost immediately did something that upended the gravity in the entire shaft (though it didn’t affect him in the slightest), which he did several times during the fight and which made it very hard to keep track of what was going on. I managed to cling to the pillar I was standing next to that time, but Niko got sent up the shaft and I didn’t see her for several seconds as she levitated her way back, and Maliah and Squirt both had to struggle to keep hold as well.

I was secure enough to get off a Shatter to the drill, though, since I’d sworn to my friends that I would do that, try to keep myself out of Onver’s sights and deal with his machine.

What’s the saying about plans and how well they go in actual battle, again? Because of course, because Niko had gone flying off up the shaft, I was on my own with Onver, and he took advantage of that and hit me twice with his sword, which crackles with electricity, the way Niko’s glaive does, weakening me enough in those two hits to terrify me.

I keep trying to find a way to sum up the next minute and a half, which is, in the end, how long we fought him. I haven’t been so terrified since the balhannoth, haven’t been so close to losing myself or my friends. We were desperate the whole time, on the back foot the whole time. I divided my attention between hitting his machine and trying to keep myself and my friends upright, drinking potions and desperately hoping they’d stick, trying every trick I knew. Maliah shot at him, and Niko had so much trouble getting close, especially when he had some ability that mired her in muck, but she hit hard when she could land them.

Onver was everywhere, mostly silent and so calm. That’s what I remember of him, that there wasn’t a glimmer of fear. No attempts to run away, no bargains or temptations or threats. He was sure that we couldn’t touch him, or at least that we couldn’t win. He went to his machine, raised a wall of blades between us and him, and I don’t think he ever activated the drill, we annoyed him that much, at least, but we were terrified and he was so assured. Even without the drill, he had a thousand other tricks: he had something like Dimension Door or Misty Step that meant he could be next to any of us in a second, he could erupt with light bright enough to burn, call lightning to hit us wherever we were, call light to blind and shards of rock, wicked and sharp. And all of that on top of a sword that would have killed us nearly as easily.

Maliah summoned some impossible beast, a flying dinosaur of some kind, to harry him, and he responded by upending gravity again (he’d set it back to normal at some point, I can’t for the life of me remember when. By that point, I was running on spite and bloodlust). That time, I wasn’t prepared, and I was flung off into the shaft, with only Feather Fall to keep me from falling nearly a hundred feet straight up. He, calm and smug, levitated right up after me, where I’d caught myself on a jagged part of the wall, and caught me a blow with his sword that opened my shoulder up and sent me reeling, unconscious, further up the shaft.

I came to with Niko’s healing, a little bit enough to help, pulling the wound closed, and I caught myself again on the stairs, pulling into a corner, to drink another potion and to try something new—I’ve been studying my gloves more, and how Reorx laid those new spells in to cast (which I was grateful for, I used several of them in the fight), and I think it makes use of Aluarashi’s sea glass much like Hanai’s earring stores data in the crystalline structure. So I thought of the Heal that I Wished for Ejyl in the Astral Sea, and I didn’t Wish for it, exactly, but I remembered the pattern of energy and magic, the sounds I needed, and I pulled the magic out and felt myself rush back from the brink of unconsciousness, well enough to come into the fray again, coming down the stairs, since the gravity had been reversed yet again, and listening to sounds from below—a sharp howl from Squirt, curses from Niko, the sounds of sword and lightning. Voices, Onver’s cool and amused, Niko’s nearly a growl.

It was hard to make sense of what I saw when I rounded the corner. Near me, there was a singed device on the ground, some fire still nearby, not threatening to burn the place down but a hazard (and, I’ll note, Onver looked a little singed as well). Farther, Niko was crouched protectively in front of Maliah, who was half-swooned in a pool of blood that was terrifyingly large, with Squirt supporting her from the other side. Onver was between me and them, and by then, I knew we couldn’t last much longer—I decided to give it another twenty seconds, perhaps before I figured out a way to Teleport us out of there.

I started with a Shatter to distract him. My Shatters didn’t bother him too much, nor his machine—both too steady on their feet to be shaken—but it was at least a distraction for a second. Still, he didn’t turn around to hit me. He blinded me with a flash of light and then did—something, I don’t know, but it sent all three of the others into sudden muck in the ground again, and then I heard two sets of crackles in a row, two weapons full of electricity, each connecting, and I managed to cast Lesser Restoration against the blindness and found Niko pitched over in the mud, Maliah peeking around a corner with a bow at the ready, Squirt at her side.

Onver was standing over Niko, and by then, he looked in poor shape, fissures everywhere, sprouting arrows like a pincushion, chunks taken out of his side and his legs. Niko had clearly hit him in the leg with her glaive, which was on the ground next to her, and then been hit in her turn, and he said—gods, I don’t even remember what he said. Something horrible and smug, anyway. Fitting enough last words.

Because I’d remembered a spell—not one I know, not one I’ve seen, but one I’ve heard of. One from horror stories and fairy tales, something that could take an enemy on their last legs and erase them from existence. Not an option for when you want to show mercy, but by then, I knew that mercy would get us killed. And what is Wish for, but horror stories and fairy tales? So I gathered all the power I could, pulling it from that huge crystal behind me, pointing at his back as he raised his sword, and I cast Disintegrate.

He was bringing his sword down when his arm started to crumble. It started where the beam of energy hit him, right in center mass, but it spread quickly, across his back and then his legs and arms, taking his armor, his terrible sword, all of him falling into dust and ash at Niko’s feet. In the brief but profound silence that followed, I could see the lights of magics that didn’t belong to him trailing up and away like smoke, filtering off to return where they belonged.

I had just half a second to feel triumphant and terrified and everything else at once before reality intruded. Niko was trapped in solidified mud and unconscious, and I was at her side in a second, healing her, waking her up and showing her what had become of him, and we talked over each other, her thanking me, me checking on her, and then I heard the sound of Maliah shooting and turned with horror to find her shooting mechanically at the machine, which had been switched off, one arrow after another until it was in pieces, leaning on Squirt all the while.

When she was done, I got us all close enough to cast a Mass Cure Wounds and to let Niko give us each a little bit of the last she had of her healing reserves, and we all sat where we landed, and tried, halting and overlapping, to tell each other what we’d missed while being thrown around by gravity and separated by walls of knives.

The worst of it and the best of it came from Maliah. The best is that the singed machine was the plan she’d been quietly making those last few nights in the Mansion—an improvised bomb, of sorts. She’d covered an oxygen tank in oil, set it on fire with an arrow, and then dropped oil on a grease fire, sending the minor explosion shooting up into Onver’s face, which I plan to buy her a drink for once we’re back in civilization.

The worst is very bad, though. When I talked about Onver’s ability to summon shards of sharp obsidian—well, Maliah is how I know. Because she was already badly hurt from swords and lightning and everything else, and then he hit her with those, and he hit an artery in her neck, where there’s still an angry red line, where she’ll carry a scar forever no matter how much healing she gets, and he killed her. He killed her, of all people, the one of us who wants so much to live, who’s never walked into a fight accepting that death might come for her, and it doesn’t matter that it was undone, that Niko was at her side in half a second casting Revivify and bringing her gasping back to life. It matters that it happened at all, and if I’d known before, I would have hesitated a lot less before that last Disintegrate.

I’ll owe Niko forever, for that, for being there when I couldn’t be, for knowing the spell when it would have taken me an hour to bring her back.

I should say that Maliah has asked me multiple times not to tell her mothers that she was killed even briefly, so consider this me swearing you to secrecy. She’ll tell them sometime, but I think she wants to wait until the wounds, as it were, are less raw.

For now, we’re resting, not for a night’s sleep, but for an hour’s healing, and I should put this down soon. I’ve Sent to Cerunwe to let zir know that we’re alive and not to come here since there’s a dragon outside. We’re going to ransack this place to find whatever we can about what Onver’s plans were, his history, his identity, anything else we can find out, given the only talking he was interested in doing was premature gloating.

And then we’re leaving. We’ll go first to the lighter part of the Feywild, to send out messages and collect ourselves, and then I’m not sure. Maybe to visit Reorx again and report on everything, maybe somewhere else. Soon, I hope, to you, to get a hug and get PA back. It seems impossible to think that far in the future, though. Right now I’m just glad to be alive.

I know there’s a lot more to reckon with. I’ll be waking up with nightmares for weeks: where Maliah dies and can’t be brought back, where Niko is helpless in the mud and I can’t do anything, where I came down that staircase to find myself alone and soon and easily killed to join my friends. And the other nightmares, the ones where I’m reminded just what I did to another living, thinking being. Those ones are the hardest, even when I know I did the right thing, that keeping him captive or getting answers from him was never an option.

There’s got to be a price to pay for killing even someone as evil as Onver. I’m glad there’s a price. If there wasn’t, I’d be just like him. It’s just going to make for a difficult few weeks.

But that’s steps ahead, again. For now, I’m alive, and I’m about to stand up, find a stick to prop myself on, and start looking through his papers. Then, while I’ve got the magic for it, I’ll Teleport us back to Cerunwe and we’ll start figuring out how to get back to the light side of the Feywild.

I’m alive, and I’m coming home. No matter what else is going on, I can hold on to that.

Love,

Elyn

#in character #in character: letter #letter to: tyko #episode 208 #location: the feywild #person: maliah #person: squirt #person: mehrnikorsa(niko)#person: aturav onver #battles

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letterstosestrilles · 2 years

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Dear Devon,

I’ve been writing a few letters like this tonight, but yours is the hardest. I’m addressing it to you, because we’ve talked before about the danger Maliah and I are walking into, that we’ve been building up to something bad, and you deserve my honesty and my trust. Loren and Jesson do too, but they’re young, and I’ve written a different letter to Loraine for her to share with all of you, before she gives you this one. You can share it with your siblings, now or in the future, but I want you to have it first.

I’m sorry, to begin. I know what it’s like to lose parents, and that right now you’ll be feeling everything and nothing, all at once. That probably, now or at some point soon, you’re going to be angry with us for leaving you. Please know that if we’d had the choice, we wouldn’t have. We’re so lucky—I’m so lucky—to know you, to hear about your annoyance with school and the latest experiments you’re helping with at the science outpost and what you and your siblings have been doing to have fun. Being your asar has been one of the best things about the last few years, however little time I’ve been able to spend with you.

There are a lot of things I find myself wanting to say to you: advice that will only half-fit the situation or that would make me a terrible hypocrite, given my own continued and complicated feelings about my own parents’ death. None of it, though, really matters. What you want, what you feel, and what you choose to do, that matters.

You know enough to know that if we’ve died, odds are we’ve failed at what we’re trying to do, and there’s still a great danger in the universe. And I know the way you take things on your shoulders, which is why I’m telling you that none of this is yours to deal with. We have friends who are going to hear about this, who will take on this task and hopefully learn from our failures, friends with plenty of power of resources of their own. You should stay safe, and keep Loren and Jesson safe while you’re at it. Unfair as it is, consider it my last wish.

I love all three of you, and I wish you all the best and brightest of futures. I know there’s going to be grief to wrestle through, I can’t pretend otherwise. I know it will be hard, and frightening, and that there are going to be days when it all overwhelms you. Times when you can’t stand thinking about us and times you think about us too much.

But I also know that you’re going to get through it. Not only because you’re strong, but because you aren’t alone. You have each other. You have Loraine. There’s a whole family on Sestrilles eager to know you, and I think my brother will be a very good help to you, I know I’ve told you about him. We’ve told so many friends about you, and if you ever want to reach out, to ask them about us or to ask them for help on your own paths, I can’t think of a single one of them who wouldn’t want to help. (Even without us there, I’m quite sure that Gaizka Zebari would be willing to sit down for a conversation, and delighted to have a bright young wizard in their program.)

The best tribute you could possibly give us, dearest saram-Devon, is living the bright future I know is out there for you—and the same goes for your siblings. Whatever you want to do, whether it’s wizardry or science or opening a restaurant or something totally different and new, you’re all going to do amazingly.

I’ve left you, as my children, a scroll my grandmother made me, detailing the lineage of my gnomish family. It’s the best I can offer, aside from what’s been set aside in trust for you, and I hope, in some small way, you consider my family to be part of yours. You all have been, from the very moment I met you, part of mine.

Love,

Elyn

#in character #in character: letter #letter to: devon #episode 207 #feelings

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letterstosestrilles · 2 years

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Dear Brennu,

I can’t believe I’m doing this to you, but I think I have to, and just have to hope that I can delete it in a day and replace this with a happier letter. I didn’t ask, but I think that maybe, if you hear I died from my brother, without any word at all from me, it will be worse than whatever words I can muster together, however clumsy they are.

Because if you’re reading this, I am dead. We’ve almost found the man we’ve been hunting. We will find him, tomorrow, and finding him means fighting him, and we don’t know the true extent of what he is and what he can do. We know we’re strong, and smart, and often luckier than we have any right to be, so I think there’s good odds we’re going to make it through, but those words are going to be cold comfort, if you’re reading them.

I’m not going to use this letter to tell you all my worries, all my fears. What good are they going to do either of us? You’ve already heard a lot of my worries, so many of them, and you’ve been a kind listener, an invaluable friend, but that’s not what I want to talk about tonight.

Tonight, I’m thinking about that vacation we talked about taking together. I know all sorts of places, obviously, but I think it would be nice to go somewhere I haven’t been, or at least haven’t explored much, since I’ve stopped in a lot of ports in my time. I’d like the chance to rent a small house near a lake or a sea somewhere, with a city nearby enough that we could go to a few concerts and restaurants, since I’m going to admit that I’m really not much of a cook. Are you? Somehow, I don’t think we’ve ever actually talked about that.

(Maybe I shouldn’t ask you questions. That seems cruel.)

It sounds like a nice vacation, though. A quiet time where hopefully nobody recognizes us, where we can swim and read and play music and go on dates and recover. That’s what I want, and that’s what I’m fighting for, which is why I don’t think you’re going to read this.

But if you do: thank you. For being my friend, and for saying yes when I asked you to dinner, and for listening and caring for me. For asking me to punch you in the face that night.

Ask my brother if you’d like a memento of me, he’ll give you nearly anything you ask for, I’m sure. If you have belated side effects from the water, write to Daltri Bhavi on Hangi Syr, address enclosed, and tell her I sent you and why. She should be able to help.

Live well, Brennu. Find a life you want, give yourself vacations when you need them, and keep on playing your instrument. I hope you think of me sometimes when you do.

Yours,

Elyn

#in character #in character: letter #letter to: brennu zahin #episode 207 #feelings #elyn and brennu

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letterstosestrilles · 2 years

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Dear Tyko,

We’ve traveled a little more slowly than we’d planned on, but we’re close now. We’re on the right (or wrong) side of the jump ring, and if the map stays as true as it has, we’re not far from Onver, and we’re just spending one last night before we go find him and, if we’re lucky, deal with him once and for all.

It was almost easier when Mishakal sent us rushing from one plane to another and we thought we were going to have to restore Reorx and fight Onver in one go. We hardly had time to make a plan, much less fret about it. For the past few days, we’ve done nothing but fret. (And hike. But hiking leaves a lot of time for fretting.)

To start, we took a day to rest, because after a night’s sleep Niko and Squirt were still worryingly pale and listless. I’m glad that they rested, we all need to be sharp and at our best, and one or two extra days on the road is a small price to pay for that. It’s just that the day to rest also, unfortunately, gave us all a day to think.

I started mine by cooking up the mountain of bacon I’d put in the Mansion’s kitchen. I could have asked for it cooked, or used one of the robot staff to cook it, but I wanted something to do with my hands, so I stood in front of a pan and cooked until Maliah, Squirt, and Niko all came down together. From what I gather, Maliah was doing what she does best, checking in on Niko and making sure she’s ready for this. She asked me, too, but I was barely an hour into my day and had already had too much time to think, so I didn’t do a good job of reassuring her.

We talked about plans, too. About leaving him alive or killing him, about how to get answers, about how to approach. Niko swears that the first question doesn’t matter as much as us getting out okay. The other two questions are harder, and I’ve wrapped them up so much with my worries about how much magic I’ll be able to cast that I proceeded to worry everybody (except Cerunwe, who wisely spent the whole day shut in zir suite, for which I cannot blame zir).

I know self-sacrifice (not that I mean to be as self-sacrificing as you or either of them might fear) isn’t the best of instincts. I also know that of all of us, even without my magic, I’m the one most likely to be able to get and keep Onver’s attention while Maliah and Niko work on surprises, and the one most likely to be able to trick him into letting any of his plans or motivations slip. If I have to approach loudly so the others can approach under some kind of cover, I’m willing to, and I’ve got a better sense these days of how much of that I can do before I need to retreat.

However, Maliah and Niko were both very horrified at the thought, so I agreed that it will be very far down our list of plans, and I will keep it there, because going against any of our more likely plans is just going to cause confusion and make our approaches less effective. We’ll find other ways of getting answers if we have to—the other two have a Potion of Mind Reading each on them, and if we do kill him, there’s always Speak With Spirits, though Onver’s spirit would have no obligation to actually tell me the truth, if I called him up.

(Though, as Maliah pointed out, he’s got no obligation to tell the truth alive either. The difference for me, at least, is that alive, I’ve got a lot more to either tempt or threaten him with when I ask him questions.)

Once I’d reassured them that it was an offer, not an intention to wander off and do something dramatic regardless of what they said and not my favorite plan, just one that might help if my magic really does give out on me, we split up for most of the rest of the day. Maliah’s been getting oil out of the skin that can pour out various liquids for the past two days, against some contingency she hasn’t fully explained yet, so she did that and then changed her bowstring and played with Squirt and did a dozen other things. Niko, aside from a nap, cleaned her own equipment and wove a little bit with her backstrap loom. I cleaned my equipment too, checked every single wire in my gloves, and made sure I’d rewired the new samples I’d taken in Reorx’s plane.

We spent another night, after having to leave the Mansion and then wait two tries for me to cast it again, and then left in the morning, rested and ready to walk across the forest.

It’s the kind of forest where, if I’d just been having a nighttime hike, I would have said it’s beautiful. It was quiet, only the occasional calls of birds and whirs of insects in the trees above us, and much darker than the tundra, with the way the leaves blocked the stars. But the fact that it never got any lighter, or any darker, made it feel as eerie as the rest of the Feywild does (it’s eerie in the lighter parts too, but there at least you can pull curtains over windows when you sleep, so you notice it less than the constant darkness).

Midway through the day, Cerunwe, in the lead, waved us to a stop, and pointed at the forest ahead of us, where all the trees were choked off with thick vines. The vines were, zie told us, extremely poisonous—not likely to kill us, but likely to make us very uncomfortable while we waded through them, however long they lasted. (Zie also spoke with the voice of experience. Someday, when it’s a little safer and more relaxed, maybe I’ll get the courage to ask zir what become of zir here. I get the awful impression that zie didn’t come here on purpose that first time, and might even have stumbled here when zie first crossed into the Feywild, but I can’t be sure, so I won’t theorize much more. In writing, at least.)

Zie offered us the choice: we could try to pick a path through the vines, and stay on course, or we could try skirting around and lose time—probably a lot of it, zie warned. We didn’t hesitate too long before we decided on going around the danger. As Maliah said, we’re not on a deadline here, and we want to arrive as well-rested and in as little pain as possible.

So around we went, for hours upon hours, skirting a long arc around the vines. Eventually, Cerunwe said that we could make the jump ring that night if we pushed hard, and stay on the schedule we’d originally set, but we decided against it, and only went a little further before we made camp.

And camp it was. I tried several times, but the Mansion wouldn’t come, the magic snapping like a broken twig whenever I tried, so we dealt with bed rolls and tents and scheduling watches. It wasn’t a restful night. Nothing bothered us, but sometimes there were eyes glowing in the darkness like something was thinking about it, or calls of birds or wolves in the distance. And on top of that, I spent a lot of my shift on watch worrying about that missed Mansion, about what I could do if something did attack besides scream.

When we got up this morning, it hardly felt like morning. More like the kind of early morning where your transport is leaving at dawn and you still have to get to the transport center. We all automatically fell into talking quietly, that hushed early-morning feeling, as we had a few sips of caffeine and some rations, and then we set off.

We got back on track fairly quickly, thanks to Cerunwe’s guidance, and were hiking along quite well until zie stopped us again and pointed at some broken branches ahead. So quiet we could hardly hear zir, zie explained that we seemed to have found the edge of some massive bird’s hunting grounds, one in a similar size to the roc, and that we needed to travel very quietly.

So, for an hour and more, we did. There were more broken branches, some older and some newer, and in a few places, deep claw marks in the ground or a tree, where the bird scooped up prey or rested for a moment. At one point, we heard a cry so loud it almost made our bones resonate, and we looked up in time to catch a wing that seemed to block out the sky, black with just a faint iridescence like on a crow or a raven.

I was half-sure, thinking of the roc, that the bird would see us and we’d be in for a huge amount of trouble, but that was as close as it got, and eventually Cerunwe relaxed and we traveled a little faster again, apparently past its territory, though we still weren’t exactly chatty. From there, though, it wasn’t long before we saw the tell-tale glimmer in the air that meant a jump ring was in front of us.

Maliah lead us in a few loops around the ring, looking for a local, before she spotted a person who looked rather like a mole and had a chat with him in Sylvan. We offered something we’ve had since I think Rugira Prime, a mechanical device that you can set up once a day to find the nearest source of potable water, which he seemed quite happy to have, and in turn we got information. Most importantly, we got word that the jump ring has minimal time slip, so I won’t have to explain extra weeks or months of absence to you.

We also, perhaps because the device was very good payment, got some additional information: namely that, as with the jump ring that led us to the tundra and the local who helped us there, the fey was not at all sure why anyone would want to go there. He hadn’t been himself, but from everything he’d heard, it was very inhospitable. Maliah says his words were “survivable, but not livable.” People have come back from there, but not everyone, by any means.

(I wish I’d thought to ask her to ask him if fewer people have been coming back over the last year or two, or if he’d seen anyone meeting Onver’s description. I know he’s apparently got some planar magics, but it could be that he did some hunting around the dark side of the Feywild before he found the perfect place to hide.)

However, since he hadn’t been, he couldn’t tell us in exactly what way it was inhospitable, so we thanked him for his help and got ready to go through the jump ring.

Before we did, though, I offered Cerunwe the chance to stay on the forest side of it, where there more cover and it might be easier to get away if we didn’t come back. I also said, though, that I was hoping to set up the Mansion fairly near the other side of the jump ring as a retreat point, since I get to say who is and isn’t allowed in, and zie chose to be there instead, so we all went through the jump ring together, Maliah in the lead.

For a moment, I wondered if the ring had brought us underground, though a second later I realized the air was fresh enough that it couldn’t have. But even so, it was dark, darker than everywhere else we’ve been this past week. It must be turned very far away from the light, and somehow, there are even fewer stars here. I had a brief moment of panic, remembering how much comfort I take in the Lady’s reassurance that there are very few places the stars don’t shine, but I looked around, and off in the distance I could see the faint gleams of one or two stars, just enough to remind me that we’re not alone out here, magic or no magic.

We were on a rocky plain. The part we were standing on was smooth, dark rock without many features or much variety in height. There are a few patches of lichen and moss, but even they’re rare, and we haven’t heard so much as an insect here, much less a massive snow leopard. (Though there’s still time.) It was cool but not cold, and off in the distance, we could see jagged places where the rock seemed to have been pushed up from below by an explosion or some very violent tectonic forces or some kind of magic. There’s not much cover aside from those, and I’m willing to bet that he’s behind or under one of them, so I don’t know how much cover we’ll have in the fight to come.

But we’d been hiking all day. We weren’t going to go after him, not yet. So, after a little walk to get us a distance from the jump ring, I tried the Mansion, for protection for us and for Cerunwe, and failed. It was like trying to pluck a string on a harp and finding that someone had cut it, no tension there to make a sound. My next attempt was likewise, and by then I was trying desperately to keep my composure, because if magic is this scarce here I really am going to be in serious danger and mostly of use as a distraction, but I wasn’t going to leave Cerunwe unprotected if I could help it.

So I looked at the stars, and I said a brief prayer, mostly to focus myself, and I tried again … and it took. It felt like I poured all the magic I had into it, and it’s half the size it usually is, but it took, it’s a safe harbor for us with bedrooms and baths and places to eat and talk, if less than usual.

And it’s a prison. I don’t know what tomorrow is going to look like, and this Mansion will dissolve before we can spend another full night in it, but if we meet Onver early and I run out of magic to take us anywhere, at least we’ll have a secure cell to hold him in for a few hours while I try to recuperate or while we come up with another plan.

So we’re all here, in our own corners, fretting again, and tomorrow we meet Onver, or in Niko’s case, meet him again. We’ll fight him, and we’ll retreat if we need to, even if that means he escapes and we need to track him again. And after that, we’ll do what we can and what we have to, and then … it seems impossible to imagine. Niko has requested a night of getting very drunk and watching romantic movies, and we’ve already discussed crepes, but all of that is just a promise, it doesn’t feel tethered to reality, to the knowledge of what we’re going to do when we wake up and finish our breakfast.

I’m going to give my IICD to Cerunwe before we go, with all my letters cued up to send, and ask zir to take it if something goes wrong and we don’t come back. Zie can tell people that we failed and Onver still needs to be taken care of, and you’ll know—well. You’ll know how I spent my last days, I suppose.

(Don’t worry, I’ll edit out these paragraphs if I get the chance. I really don’t want you to have to read them.)

And if the worst happens … stay safe. Keep your head down, tell Gaizka and anyone else who has to help with this that I’m sorry. Give Alion and Tiriel my love. Take the damn money from my will and use it, it’s more than enough to buy the shop and yourself a bigger place to live, and please be happy. Not tomorrow. Not next week. I know way too much about grief to expect that of you. But live, and marry Lindanas someday if you want to, and build a life. I want that for you so badly.

I want it for me too. I’m going to try my best to make sure it happens. But if it doesn’t: I love you. I love you, the best brother I could have asked for, the best friend I’ve got. You’ve made my life so much better than it would have been without you, and I hope you feel the same, that however much I’ve upset you with the danger I’ve put myself in you don’t regret caring about me.

I’ll Send to you as soon as I’ve got the magic to, once I’ve won. I’ll come see you as soon as I can manage after. And I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you don’t have to read the last part of this letter.

Love,

Elyn

#in character #in character: letter #letter to: tyko #episode 207 #location: the feywild #person: maliah #person: mehrnikorsa(niko)#person: squirt #person: cerunwe #person: aturav onver #feelings #suspenseful situations

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letterstosestrilles · 2 years

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Dear Tyko,

I’m very much hoping that it’s been two days since I last wrote. At worst, I hope it’s maybe a week. We couldn’t help going through a jump ring with a small time slip, and Cerunwe assures us that it’s not likely to be weeks or longer, but I still worry, and I know you worry.

And once again, I’ve started in the wrong place, but in part, that’s because, while nothing horrible has happened, I’ve spent the past two days facing up, again and again, to how much I’ve started to rely on magic, how few options I can find when that doesn’t work.

Maybe, though, writing you will help me get my head on better, and I can remind myself that I’ve got plenty of use even if we show up to Onver’s door and I can’t cast so much as a cantrip.

Yesterday (I hope it was yesterday), we lingered over breakfast in the Mansion, because Maliah and I had a few thoughts about various trades for locals and wanted to redistribute some of our potions and other magical objects. We’ve had a few pinches of Dust of Dryness since we dealt with the nightmare hag that was harassing Bizza, ages and ages ago, and I thought that in the dark part of the Feywild, where resources can be scarce, people might appreciate having stored water. So we’ve set that aside to trade, and used Maliah’s jug that can decant various liquids to fill a tub with fresh water and set up one pellet of stored water in advance.

We also handed Cerunwe something from Ella’s hoard, a glass eye that’s supposed to glow in the presence of dragons. Zie mentioned rumors of dragons, after all, and rumors turn into fact for us depressingly often. And since zie is at the head of our little line more often than not, if the eye starts glowing, we’ll all see it, and be able to duck for cover. One hopes.

(And honestly, given Onver almost certainly is something beyond what he showed Niko, I wouldn’t put it past my luck if he were a dragon. May as well be prepared.)

With all that done, we stepped out of the cozy and warmly lit Mansion and into darkness, stars overhead, a startled mouse disappearing into the tall grass when Maliah stepped out to make sure no snakes or hags had caught up with us. We were still in the foothills, and we gave Cerunwe the map, since we’d hired zir to guide us, after all, and started traveling, still in the grass, traveling through the occasional patch of flowers.

For several hours, it was only a quiet and dark hike, all of us stepping carefully in the darkness, squinting to make sure we were stepping on shadows, not on creatures. Eventually, though, we heard water rushing, and soon enough came upon a freezing cold river, some thirty feet wide, cutting between two of the hills and leading right to a sharp precipice and a waterfall most of a hundred feet high if I’m a judge.

We needed, Cerunwe explained, to go down. We could go down climbing beside the waterfall, where there was a rocky cliff where we could probably find some purchase, or we could try crossing the river somehow and look for a more gentle descent on the other side.

Either one, if I were at full magical strength, would be easy. As it was, we worried for a few minutes and then decided that the consequences of failing to cross the river might be less awful than the consequences of failing to climb down the cliff (though depending on how badly we failed the former, it might lead to automatically failing the latter). However, we didn’t want to try so close to the waterfall, so Maliah told us to stay put and went in search of a safer ford.

She returned almost an hour later, when I was starting to worry she’d met something nasty without us along, and said that she’d found a spot where the water was just a little narrower, and where there was an old tree fallen across that might hold us, though she warned us it had clearly been a long time and it was fairly rotten.

It was a twenty-minute hike upriver, past some rapids, before we reached the relatively calm section of the river, though it was still freezing cold. The tree was large, but noticeably soft, and we decided we’d make good use of the Immovable Rod and a lot of rope, so we weren’t relying just on that.

First, though, I tried casting Dimension Door, and promptly failed, which shook me up more than I care to admit. That’s a trusty spell for me, and has been for a long time now, but it didn’t do a thing. So instead, I stood there fretting as Maliah and Niko went across, inch by slow inch, the tree creaking under them. They made it safe to the other side, and Squirt blinked across from them—he still has that ability, for which we’re all very grateful.

I tried Dimension Door again, for Cerunwe and me, because Maliah had talked about going back and forth with the Immovable Rod for all of us, since she’s both light on her feet and knows her way around a fallen tree, but it would be better if she didn’t have to risk herself that much. Unfortunately, it fizzled again, so back she came, this time with a rope anchored at the other end.

She took Cerunwe next, but halfway across, what we were afraid of happened—the tree shattered apart into so much mulch, and the rope on my side of the river came loose, unknotting from where we’d left it. Maliah was left dangling from the Immovable Rod, and Cerunwe had the presence of mine to pitch zirself up on a ragged bit of shoreline. Niko, a rope in hand, went to help zir out, and I was left to figure out how to get Maliah, alone in the middle of the river, and myself, with all my spells failing, across.

Where my spells were failing, though, I thought I might try one of the new ones Reorx gave me for my gloves, the ones I can cast once a day. One of them is Fly, and I cast it, with a little murmured prayer, and it caught, though it was guttering and I had no idea how long it would last. I didn’t want to waste time, so I grabbed a rope and flew out, just in time to catch Maliah as her grip slipped on the Immovable Rod.

We struggled there for a moment until she could swing around and catch it again, and my rope didn’t end up doing much good, because all I could think to do, over that fast-rushing river, was trust in my ability to carry Maliah the four or five yards to shore, dangling from my arms with the Immovable Rod clutched in one hand.

I just barely made the shore, and think I dragged her feet in the water at the end there, before my arms and magic both gave out on me and I dropped her in a heap before floating a last few feet and dropping myself. By then, we were both sweaty messes, Squirt was distraught with his inability to help her, and Cerunwe was wringing zirself out like an offended cat while Niko tried to brush dirt off her armor.

We spent half an hour cleaning ourselves off and getting dry (other magic may have failed, but Prestidigitation, to my everlasting relief, stayed true), and then walked grimly on into the dark. We did eventually find a gentle descent down the hills and back to the course we were supposed to be on, after going out of our way upriver, and after that, we called it good enough for the day, since we were getting close to our first jump ring, and made camp.

You won’t be surprised to hear that, with my magic so starved I could hardly cast Dimension Door, I barely felt so much as a spark when I tried to cast the Mansion, so back to tents and bedrolls and trail rations it was. Maliah and Squirt were perfectly happy (I suspect they enjoy camping more than the Mansion, at least when we’re not in dire straits), and Cerunwe and Niko perfectly willing to adapt, but I’ll admit I spent most of my watch that night having quite a sulk. Less, in my defense, about not having the luxury I’ve gotten used to, and more continued worries about being dead weight in the fight with Onver, not able to do much but inspire my companions and cast the occasional cantrip, wield a sword I’m fine at but certainly can’t heal with.

So, after some restless sleep, interrupted by a watch shift, I woke up and we began what has turned into a very long day. We didn’t take long to reach the first jump ring, though then we had to look around until we could find someone who could tell us if it was safe from major time slippage. Maliah spotted someone, and since Tongues wasn’t likely to work and I didn’t speak Sylvan, I was left twiddling my thumbs and pulling gems out of the bag of holding when it turned out the local being was rather insubstantial and didn’t have interest in rations. They did take a gem, though, and told us the jump ring was safe where time is concerned, but that the place on the other side was inhospitable.

The hag’s map showed volcanoes, possibly in that region (it’s an odd map, hard to tell for sure), so we hauled out our proximity suits and put them on, handing Cerunwe some fire resistance potions since zie didn’t have a proximity suit, and we walked through … into a tundra, ice and snow and maybe ash, canopied by stars. It wasn’t even the bright blue-white of snow and ice at night that I’m used to, more violet or dark blue, so little light that even that reflection couldn’t give us much. There might have been volcanoes, in the far distance to one side (the other side turned into a hazy horizon that matched the sky, like when it’s just the right time of night on the ocean and you can’t tell where sky stops and sea begins), but if it was them, they weren’t active, just looming in the dark.

We all swapped proximity suits out for the warmest gear we have, and my gloves still gave me some protection from temperature, but it was a long and miserable hike forging across the tundra. Niko and Maliah were both shivering by the time Maliah turned a few times, frowning from within the warm hood of her cloak, and finally said quietly that she was seeing movement behind us. Something, she said, that was stalking us, moving like a cat. Something big.

None of us wanted to tangle with it. Not when Maliah’s Speak With Animals, one of the first spells she learned, failed. Not when I could hardly feel the connection that lets me cast spells. Not when Niko and Maliah were already fumbling with exhaustion after only a few hours hiking. So we picked up speed a little, looking for shelter, and I tried to remember every page of Maliah’s bestiary I’ve ever read and ever nature documentary I ever watched with Alion. Big cats, I knew, liked to single out weaker members of herds and take them down, so we had to present a united front, and outright running was likely to provoke it too, so we tried to just keep walking at a good clip.

However, as we sped up, it did too, and the next time I looked over my shoulder, I saw it: a cat, yes, but it must have been twenty feet long without the tail, and proportionally tall, looming even over Niko, the tallest of us. It was mostly dark silver-gray, with darker spots, a snow leopard but on a scale I could hardly imagine, and with a gleam of intelligence that made me wish I could Teleport us right to Onver’s lair and leave it behind.

We knew, though, that if we could find somewhere to wedge ourselves in that it couldn’t reach, it would give up after a little while, and Maliah spotted some shadows in the darkness that might have been cover, so we made those our goal. Niko turned, and with a spell stored in her glaive, used a wind to whip up the snow on the ground to give us cover while we retreated, and then we ran.

I’m the slowest of us, between my height and my lack of familiarity with nature, and in the end, Squirt had to drag me the last few feet, but we were near a depression in the snow, and we sent Cerunwe ahead to scout it, turning to face the approaching beast to give zir time to get out of the way (I am very committed to making sure zie doesn’t have to take on undue danger in this, given what zir previous experience here seems to have been like).

A moment later, zie called out, after a few unpleasant noises, that it was safe, and we went for it and found ourselves in a small tunnel and found Cerunwe bandaging zir arm, scowling at the corpse of some massive rodent, maybe a shrew or something, that had built the tunnel. It wasn’t very stable, flakes of snow and ice falling from the ceiling as the cat got over is, but we all retreated, and then I remembered the Deck of Illusion, sitting in my pack. Maybe, if we pulled the right card, it would scare the cat off, or it would find the smaller illusion and decide we’d been illusion too.

I went at full speed up the tunnel, threw out the first card that came to my hand, and retreated, looking over my shoulder just in time to see a double of myself up at the entrance, which was actually a very good illusion for the moment. I made it out of the way just before vibrations overhead told us the cat had arrived, and there were a few noises, all of us trying to hide ourselves, before its paw came in the entrance, feeling around for us.

Maliah shot one of the pads of its paw, not trying to fight it so much as to make us seem like too much trouble to bother killing, and after a moment, it withdrew. After another moment, it seemed to retreat in the distance … just in time for the tunnel roof to come down, blocking off our exit. We’re only lucky that it didn’t fall on our heads, and that there was still plenty of air.

None of us, though, were interested in going anywhere yet. We wanted the cat to have plenty of time to get somewhere else, find easier prey, so we waited five minutes, and then ten, before starting to find a way out. Of course, the second I tried to look, I promptly blinded myself with my flashlight after days in the dark, so it was Squirt, determined and strong as ever, who broke through the worst of it and made a path the rest of us could crawl out, back out under the stars.

I was ready to sit down and make camp right then, Mansion or no Mansion, but Cerunwe said that it was probably only an hour’s hike to the next jump ring, so on we went, though by then all of us were shivering and exhausted, and my bones felt like someone had poured lead in them. Niko and Squirt were worse off than the rest of us by a good margin, but even Cerunwe was discomposed by the time we found the jump ring, glinting in the dark.

There wasn’t anyone around to tell us if it was safe, but we didn’t really have any other option than to take it, not if we didn’t want to be wandering lost on the tundra for days on days, and Cerunwe inspected it and said that while zie thought there would be a little time slippage, it would be more in the realm of hours or days than weeks or months or worse, and that was a risk we were willing to take, so we went through.

It’s still dark, on this side of the jump ring—of course it is, how could it be anything else?—but it’s a little warmer, a forest that only lets the occasional glimpse of starlight through the leaves, with dark-colored moths fluttering around. We went on for maybe half a mile, finding a clearing, and I tried the Mansion, hoping for a restful night’s sleep for all of us, and by some miracle, it worked. It took more power than usual, but it worked, and I’ll take it.

We staggered in, and talked about plans a little bit. Niko and Squirt are both too tired for one night’s sleep to let them recover fully, and there’s only one more jump ring between us and Onver. This forest probably has its own dangers, but it seems safe enough to stay in a little longer if we need to, so we’re going to stay an extra night, though we might travel at least far enough to get close to the other jump ring tomorrow, so we’ll have less travel the day after. With any luck, my magic will hold steady as long as we’re in this forest, and I won’t lose it as much as I did in the tundra, or in the foothills before. It’s hard to imagine him setting up somewhere he can’t defend himself with magic.

But I do need to remind myself, much as it feels like it today, that magic isn’t all I offer. I know technology, too, and that’s what Onver works with (and while we’re going slow for a day, I should ask Niko what she remembers about his machine now, if there are any weak points, if she remembers what the less arcane parts run on, if the materials are susceptible to Shatter, presuming I have that). I can talk, presuming he and I share a language, and that makes me a very good distraction. We should build that into plans too, and assume that any magic I can do is a bonus to me being able to get his attention and maybe some answers, and maybe to advise sabotage on his machine.

I’m here for a reason. Maliah and Niko didn’t tell me to go home when we found out magic would be chancy here, so even if it feels like everything helpful I’ve done in the past two days has been by chance or by the grace of the scraps of magic I can pull together, I owe it to myself and to them to do everything I can, leave no side of myself or my abilities unexplored, in case it’s the one thing I’ve never thought to try that’s going to get us there in the end.

We’re getting close. One jump ring away. I’m scared, and I’m worried my friends will have to protect me thanks to my lack of magic and lose an opportunity or worse, but this has to happen, and I’m too stubborn to let it go any way but the way I choose.

So, another two days, or another three or four or five if Cerunwe’s estimates are wrong, and you’ll hear from me, Tyko. Maybe it will just be a Sending from Reorx’s plane, while we deliver Onver or his body, or maybe it will be me in person, there to pick up PA, let you scold me, and sleep for a week, but you’ll hear from me, and it’s going to be a story of success.

We can hope anyway, right?

Love,

Elyn

#in character #in character: letter #letter to: tyko #episode 206 #location: the feywild #person: maliah #person: mehrnikorsa(niko)#person: cerunwe #person: squirt #suspenseful situations

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letterstosestrilles · 2 years

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Dear Tyko,

Well, you know that I’m out of range on my IICD now, and I’m conserving magic, knowing I could lose the ability at any minute and maybe foolishly feeling that not casting much will make it stretch out longer, so you won’t hear much from me by Sending unless something very big is going on, until I’m back somewhere with either more reception or more magic.

It’s been several days since I wrote, but days of walking and walking tend not to be the most interesting to write about, so I thought I would save it all up until something actually happened. So now I can tell you about the scenery and about the first steps of this quest all at once.

To start, before we even started out, while Cerunwe was still conferring with the Lady of the Ashenwalds, I had a talk with Maliah about the Wild Hunt. Because we’re hunting someone, and Maliah’s been invited to join the hunt, and if it’s the kind of hunt that tracks rather than the kind of hunt that chases, it would be foolish not to at least ask. From the legends she knew, it’s more the kind that chases, which won’t be a help to us in finding Onver but may be a help if things get desperate.

(Though Maliah did say that in the legends people who try to run with the hunt but haven’t actually been invited to join it can go a little odd and run feral off into the woods, so I wouldn’t call that my first option.)

She prayed to Cernunnos, to alert him, to ask if maybe the Wild Hunt could help in the circumstance that bothers me most, where we beat Onver but only by a hair, and there’s a whole night to wait while I recover the magic to get us out with him recovering too. She got a response, though Cernunnos doesn’t seem to respond to prayers in words. She smelled the rich Feywild loam even in the Mansion, and she heard a hunting horn call in the distance, so I’m hopeful that in extremity, anyway, we might see help from that quarter. Though she’s not sure Cernunnos goes to the dark side of the Feywild any more than the archfey might.

When Cerunwe came to finish our bargaining, zie had a very unexpected answer for us: zie is willing to guide us on our journey, though zie stipulated that zie has no desire to fight Onver, and we reassured zir that we have no intention of asking zir to do so. I suspect that the Lady of the Ashenwalds and her endless curiosity has more to do with zir agreement than any desire zie actually has to return to a place that seems to have been a miserable time for zir. I don’t like it, that zie might feel forced, but I’m so grateful for zir help that I decided not to push and make sure it was zir own choice.

We solidified the terms of that bargain: information for information, the swords from Reorx’s plane for zir guidance in more mundane areas, the Plane Shift scroll Gaizka made us for zir guidance in the dark side of the Feywild itself. Zie also reminded us, while we were bargaining, that if our first step was going to be to find a hag (as we’d decided so we can track Onver), we would need something to offer them, so we made note of that and, with the bargain struck and the formalities done, we left.

The realm of the Lady of the Ashenwalds isn’t in the dark, but neither is it very far from it—there’s a hint of twilight on the horizon, and we went toward it all day. The travel was easier than our last trip with Cerunwe. There were roads, settlements, places clearly well-traveled, easy walking.

And, through the days of travel that followed, they got a little less well-traveled piece by piece and bit by bit, until we were on well-trampled deer paths, and then less well-trampled ones, and further on and on. Cerunwe steered us through a fairly duskwards town somewhere in there, where they were glad to sell Niko and I warm coats against the possible chill of the constant darkness, but after that, what settlements we saw were few and small, only a family or two eking out their living as we passed out into the last areas where you can even pretend there’s light to see by.

It was a little cooler by then, but not cold. More like the end of the summer, when the days are still hot and the nights just cool enough that you can throw open the windows to help you sleep. The giant trees of the Feywild’s seemingly-endless forests dwindled bit by bit to saplings, and then to occasional stands of trees, and then we were standing in a field of tall grass, all the color leached from everything by starlight, so the grass seemed silver and Squirt was barely a shadow traveling through it.

Even behind us, when I looked, there was only a little dun on the horizon, like the lightening right before dawn, and over us and ahead of us, stars upon stars upon stars, none of them familiar but all of them comforting, as I thought of the Lady, her promise that where stars shine she can see. There may be places in the Feywild so dark even the stars can’t reach, but we haven’t found those yet, and maybe we won’t. I can only hope we won’t.

But stars or no stars, we’d passed a boundary without ever really seeing a clear delineation. And of course, the way light works here, there’d be no lines that way, but with the fear and hatred of this place, I’d half-expected a wall, sign-posts to warn you back. I’d say maybe that’s what the end of the forest was, but it’s not like every inch of the Feywild is forested. Maybe it’s just that they understand that the boundary is in a different place depending on who you are, and how much your fear weighs against your determination.

Far in the distance, so distant they barely made the horizon jagged, were some blurs that might have been mountains. Scattered in the silvery grasses were patches of shadow that might have been trees. And it was quiet, the only sound crickets, and those mostly behind us.

I made the Mansion there in the middle of the grass, and was relieved that I still could. We all got plenty of rest and plenty of food, and walked out in what felt like the morning into a dark midnight.

It didn’t get any less disorienting, that constant darkness, especially once we lost that little bit of light. Cerunwe steered us towards the mountains, close enough that we could see, remembering Chusya and our lectures on volcano safety, that one of them is a volcano, one that I very much hope isn’t active right now. It would be just our luck. At least we still have those proximity suits, though Cerunwe doesn’t.

The grass was louder that day, full of small creatures Cerunwe didn’t seem concerned about, so I did my best to mirror zir. I also asked how we were planning to find a hag in the first place, if zie knew one or if there was a place they go. Zie explained that beings out in the dark of the Feywild know where the local hags are, which makes sense. Everybody must need things, out here, where hag magic is one of the few kinds that works.

Once she knew we were looking for people, Maliah didn’t take long to spot some, in a small stand of trees we were passing. They were a pair of tree-dwelling fey, not inclined to chat or to get close, not unlike very large bats, in as much as any fey looks like any mortal creature. Cerunwe hailed them in Sylvan, and once it was established that they were willing to make a bargain, I cast Tongues, and it turned out to be one of the easier bargains we’ve made in the Feywild: I offered them a day’s rations each, and asked for the location of the nearest hag likely to be willing to make a bargain, and they took me up on it happily enough.

The hag, they said, was another thirty miles duskwards, up into the foothills of the mountains. We were to follow a string of sycamores up to a spring, and then look for a stand of ash where her hut would be. Those were clear directions, so we thanked them, gave them the requested rations, and went on our way.

We’d already been walking a while, but we decided we wanted to get to the start of the chain of sycamores before we went to sleep, so we walked up into the very smallest of the foothills until Cerunwe and Maliah both pointed out some trees that are apparently sycamores. We started looking out for a campsite, but before we got too far into the process, Maliah pointed out a dark coiled shape in the first of the trees—a huge snake, even larger than the ones we fought when we were getting Mera off Tlere.

She cast Speak With Animals, and apparently at first it was very intent on eating us, but she promised it a lot of meat, and eventually it allowed that jerky it didn’t have to work for was a better deal than a lot of fresh meat that would fight it every step of the way, so we lobbed enough rations at it that I was very glad we overpacked on them and retreated to what we decided was a safe enough distance.

I cast the Mansion again, more relieved about the ability to do it than the day before, and we rested again. None of us are talking much, on this trip. Outside the Mansion, there’s so little sound that it feels like conversation could carry miles upon miles. Inside, I think we’re all thinking hard about what we’re walking into, trying to find a way to step that will keep us all alive.

(Well, except Cerunwe. Zie just likes the quiet, I think.)

We stepped out today into another dark morning—every morning darker than the one before, it seems, and it’s beautiful here, but I don’t think it takes a jump ring to make you lose all sense of time, either. I was glad to have the sycamores to follow, and Cerunwe’s steady pace keeping the time as the day passed. At one point, Niko, bringing up the rear, tripped a little and warned us that the roots of the trees seemed to be moving, causing some kind of mischief. We kept an eye on them, and they did reach the occasional branch down, and the occasional root popped up, but I skirted to the side and Maliah muttered at them in Sylvan, and they didn’t try to do much besides prod us, so we didn’t stop to do anything else on our way to the spring, which we found late in the afternoon.

There were sets of almost-glowing eyes watching us, wondering who the interlopers at their watering hole were, and Maliah tried to reassure them, but they didn’t come out, and we didn’t stay long. She and Cerunwe could both see a stand of ashes nearby, and we didn’t want to put off the hag any longer than we had to, so forward we went.

It’s not that large a stand of trees, but the hag’s hut didn’t show up at first glance. The roof of it is thatched, but the walls are made of ash trees, one or two even with a branch still sticking out. Once you see it, though, you know someone powerful lives there. Maliah requested that I cast Tongues, and I did, but it felt odd, and only caught after a moment where I was sure it wouldn’t work at all.

Maliah asked what I meant when I said it felt odd, and I don’t think I did a good job of explaining. Mostly, it felt like the magic I used to cast it wasn’t mine, not really. I know how my magic feels at this point, the way I coax it out of the notes I play, which are a bridge to the Chords that I sometimes think I can hear a little clearer, now that I’ve heard them so clearly and constantly in Reorx’s realm. This took energy from me, but the magic felt like it came from closer, that the form of the spell came from my gloves but not the actual power that was backing it up. It felt more like it was drawing from the nearest easy source of magic, which must have been the hag.

If it was, though, it didn’t make a difference when we went up to the rough door in the hut’s wall and knocked. A moment later, it swung open, and we found ourselves in a room bigger than the hut should have been able to encompass. At least I’m used to that, these days, so it didn’t take me long to orient myself and look around the room, which was decorated like the worst-organized shop in the world, or like Am’elyn if her taste for trinkets got entirely out of hand. It was dim enough that I couldn’t see most of the strange objects the hag had arrayed around, only a flash of jewels in the window, and on a central table, glows emanating from bottles of all sizes, the contents opalescent, much like the songs Ella recorded in Caystone.

The hag told us to come in, not just stand there, and the rest of the room faded in importance to her. Ella was a fairly powerful hag, but this one seems to be much more so, from her appearance of great age and her confidence and just the depth of her eyes, which were almost dizzying.

She didn’t ask our names, and we didn’t offer them or ask hers. She seems like the kind of person it’s dangerous to give even an alias to. She asked instead what we want, and we told her: a way to find a man we’re hunting, whose name and appearance were probably lies. She told us she could make a map for us, using Niko’s previous battles with him as an anchor, but that it would take a lot of magic in a place where magic is scarce and that it would thus be very expensive.

The negotiations that followed felt dangerous—she outright said that Ella was much softer than she is, when I said I’d paid with song before. (Though in Ella’s defense, we were also asking much less of her than we asked of this hag.) After some talking around memories, which she deemed insufficient if we were just sharing them and not giving them to forget ourselves, Maliah thought to offer some of the water from the Deeping Wellemere we still have available, which caught her interest.

For a while, it seemed like it might be one vial and a memory of something, but the only memory she seemed interested in was when I half-offered the whole story of Maliah’s and my travels, and Cerunwe made zir disapproval of that idea very obvious, so we added a second vial instead, meaning we only have one left.

She wasn’t quite satisfied yet, though. Hags put a lot of weight on prices that cost something personal. If we wouldn’t offer our memories, our skills, our luck, she said, we could offer more physical things: hair, blood, bone. It was Maliah who stepped forward then, while I was frozen, wondering if I could bear to part with Hanai’s earring, knowing I have all the files from it kept safe now. Maliah, though, offered one of her braids, and the hag accepted, bargaining until Maliah said she would pick two and let the hag pick her preferred of those two. That was enough, at last, and we finished the formalities.

The hag unrolled a sheet of vellum on the table and picked up some ink. She asked for a drop of Niko’s blood, as the person who had drawn Onver’s blood and had her own drawn in turn, and Niko obliged, and she integrated it into the ink and then the map started to form. It started with the mountains we’re at the foot of and expanded from there: swirls indicating jump rings, volcanoes and barren spaces, and at the top of the map, a jut of rock in the plain, marked with a dot of red-black ink. And all across the page, crossing in and out of jump rings, crossing much of the map, was a thin gold line.

We rolled it up and paid our price: two vials of water from the Wellemere on the table, the ones from Maliah’s and my packs because we wanted Niko to have hers, and then Maliah’s braid, snipped off with gold shears.

The hag kicked us out happily after that and a few more pleasantries, and as soon as we left and turned our back on the hut, I got the eerie sense that if I turned around, it wouldn’t still be there, or if it was, it wouldn’t be there for me.

We got a little distance away across the hills, not comfortable being so close, and I gathered my courage after the near-failure of Tongues and was relieved to cast the Mansion and even for most of it to feel like it came from my own magic, though there was still a thread of strangeness in it.

In here, tonight, we’ve been looking at the map on and off. There’s no scale, and no way of knowing how long it will take to travel, though Cerunwe estimates perhaps a week, maybe a little less, if we run into fewer delays than we expect. That’s objective time, though, and I didn’t realize until later that I didn’t ask the hag to make us a map that wouldn’t take us through any jump rings that would lose us more than a few days of time. So we’re going to have to ask locals before we go following this route, and find alternate ways if we need to, but at least we know something about the features where he is.

I also had the chance to ask Cerunwe why zie had disapproved of my memory offer, since I need to keep learning about how to make these damn bargains, and zie pointed out, as I should have realized, that all my memories of the last few years contain some memories that people could use in extremely dangerous ways: the way to Avka’s hoard and the defenses there, to name just one, but also the names of stars, too much about Onver’s machine, a thousand other things, small and large, that could put people in danger.

I was crestfallen, but zie pointed out, with one of zir little smiles, that we got out of there without giving up any years of our lives or first-born children, so we should consider ourselves lucky, and that’s the comfort I’m taking with me.

Tomorrow, we start following the hag’s path. I hope we’ll find it easy, but I’m going to do my best to be prepared for whatever the Feywild can throw at me. And to try to keep bargaining with rations instead of blood.

I hope I’ll be seeing you in a week or two, if Cerunwe’s estimates are right.

Love,

Elyn

#in character #in character: letter #letter to: tyko #episode 205 #location: the feywild #person: maliah #person: mehrnikorsa(niko)#person: cerunwe

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letterstosestrilles · 2 years

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Dear Tyko,

As promised, a more detailed letter than the one I sent you when we first arrived in the Feywild, so you can reassure yourself that I’m safe right now, even if, as you point out, I’m about to go into some very bad danger indeed when the danger to the force of creativity and thus possibly the universe seems to be past. I will defend myself, though, by pointing out that what Onver did once he could certainly do again, and I’m not interested in leaving that up to chance.

And I will defend myself by saying that Niko would be doing this whether we went with her or not, and you like Niko. There’s no way you want her alone in what’s coming. So you’re just going to have to suffer through a few more weeks of me doing extremely dangerous things, and then I will do my best to only take on threats that don’t make me want to hide under my blankets for a week for a good long time. With a good long period of as few threats of any size as possible to start with.

We did, you’ll probably already have guessed from the time stamps and the timing of my Sending, have a few more days of rest and preparation on Reorx’s plane.

In between other things, Maliah and I did have a chance to sit down with Niko. At first, we mostly talked about the dark side of the Feywild, and what preparations we might need to go there. I asked Maliah what she’s heard, but any and every kind of monster that exists (and probably a good few that don’t) have been said to live there, by one parent or another. There are a few things that she can almost certainly eliminate—there are unlikely to be huge crabs that can shoot fire from their claws, for instance—but more where it’s impossible to guess what’s true, what’s exaggeration, and what’s made up of whole cloth.

We talked about picking up some warm clothes somewhere, since places where there’s no light at all tend to be quite cold, and speculated a little on what magic and what magic objects might or might not work in the dark areas, where everyone seems to agree that magic is at least somewhat curtailed. That terrifies me, when I’ve grown so used to relying on my magic that I don’t think I’ve drawn my sword except to clean it and run a drill or two in a year. When that got to be too much we talked about picking up extra rations both in case I lose the ability to cast my Mansion and because they’re good bargaining material in a place food might be scarce, and what barters to offer Cerunwe, including a set of short swords, the location of Avka’s hoard, and a few other inducements based on what zie is willing to offer us.

After that, Maliah and I sidestepped into asking Niko a few of the questions that have been building up since she got her full memories back. The first questions we had were just how long she’s been Reorx’s companion, and how she came to be one. The answer to the first was staggering, even though I’d come to half-expect it: a century, perhaps more, though she hasn’t tracked it. She’d been a devotee of Reorx for a long time, a paladin for quite some time, and when she made innovations to loom technology, they started speaking to her more often, and eventually offered her a place among their companions.

Since they’re a god more directly connected with mortals than most (Mishakal comes to mind, for instance), they like to have mortal company, and the stretch of lifespan seems to come from enjoying that company too much to want to give it up, not that I blame them. When they’re together, Niko says, doing anything with Reorx or on their plane, it’s a constant feeling of the best and most inspired sorts of collaboration, the kinds where once you’re on track you hardly have to tilt your head or blink to communicate what you want to say, where the project takes on a life of its own. It’s a tempting prospect, really, even if I’d miss all my friends and family too much to actually consider living that life.

I half-joked that I should ask Nuli and Thvara if there are any Crafter ballads about Niko, since that’s their specialty and there’s been much more time than previously assumed for legends about her to circulate. She blanched a little and said she hopes not, or at least that she doesn’t hear them until she has as little more time to reconcile with her memories, so I asked the next most logical question, if any of her companions have such ballads—just before I realized that Dwiona is a dwarvish harpist and there’s definitely a Crafter ballad about that, and amended the question to ask if I’d been in the presence of the Ollamh Harp without knowing.

The answer, it seems, is yes, Dwiona is the subject of Nuli and Thvara’s most-loved and best-known ballad. I’m going to have to track them down and tell them about all of this, though I have no idea if they’ll actually believe me.

There might, Niko says, be ballads about Emulf or the others, but none as widely circulated as Dwiona’s. I’ll have to keep my ears open, and add them to my repertoire if I found them.

That seemed like more than enough of that conversation, so we split off to try some various activities: Maliah to find short swords to offer Cerunwe, with Niko’s help (she found a beautiful matched set with a few useful enchantments on them) and me to badger Dwiona, which she graciously allowed. We spent most of the afternoon with me playing the harp (the Ollamh Harp! It’s beautiful, silvery-pale like driftwood, carved with a raven on the head and abstract designs elsewhere) and intermittently showing her how to work my gloves and the rest of the apparatus. She even let me re-record some harp samples with her harp, which has a gorgeous warm tone like the rooms here seem to bestow but on its own, and which is so responsive you hardly need to pluck a string before it’s sounding.

We also, before dinner, found Emulf in his workshop, where he’s dusting off projects he’d had to leave, and his glasswork is exquisite. We saw a stained glass window that’s as detailed and fluid as a painting, and blown glass flowers and vines that are so perfectly rendered as they climb their way up columns that it’s hard to imagine them being something made instead of grown.

Many things here feel like that, really, so beautiful the place feels like a museum, or would if it weren’t so lived-in and full of Reorx’s power. I had to convince myself to touch things, and it was a relief, as we went around the place, to find the offerings and gifts by people not quite yet masters of their crafts: a quilt in a mind-bogglingly mathematical patterns where some of the corners don’t quite line up, a hammer made from some experimental material that instead of being extremely resilient turned out rather floppy, something that looks rather like the yarn dog Jesson made for Maliah.

As we wandered, I talked to Niko about another part of this quest that’s worrying me: namely, the end of it. Not, for once, any of my big impossible questions about what comes next, but the practical worry that even with the restraining manacles, if we take Onver prisoner instead of killing him, we’re likely to be so spent that we’ll have no way of doing anything with him immediately. If I can’t reserve a Wish long enough to Plane Shift, if I can’t even Teleport to somewhere we could spend some credit for an overnight guard from someone, we would have a rough night to get through, since I doubt he’ll go down or stay down easy, if he’s wily enough to have run from Niko for twenty years.

Niko promised to think about it and ask Reorx about it, on the last night we planned to stay there, and the next day, she tossed me a gem made into a perfect sphere, which will hold the charge for a fairly powerful spell, if not quite as powerful as Wish would need to be. Still, it would be an extra Teleport, or a Mansion that I could build a cell into, and it could be the saving of us.

And later that day, after goodbyes and blessings from Reorx and their companions, they sent us to the Feywild.

After all my complaints about the discomfort of divine magic, I am pleased to tell you that Reorx’s magic didn’t quite feel like Gaizka’s Plane Shift, but it wasn’t as discomfiting as Mishakal’s. It makes sense, them being so used to mortals, and to transporting them from plane to plane on their journeys to meet various crafters, and I was relieved to land in the Feywild no more disoriented than I had to be, in the middle of a stretch of forest just far enough to the light side of the Feywild to make all of us wince after days of the constant dimness of Reorx’s plane.

Maliah, after a look around, said she had no idea where we were, so I made sure my messages to you and to Cerunwe sent and then whisked us away to Troihari, since we’d agreed to start off with rations shopping, which we knew we would need. We ended up buying roughly two months of rations, making a pessimistic guess about how long it will take to find Onver and then doubling that so we have emergency rations and plenty to trade with, since we assumed that people in the dark side of the Feywild might be interested in foods they wouldn’t usually have access to as a bargaining tool.

We spent the night in an inn and woke to a message from Cerunwe inquiring why I hadn’t mentioned the bolthole zie gave me access to among our possible meeting locations (the answer is that I’d thought of it so exclusively as a bolthole that it hadn’t occurred to me that it might be useful for other purposes) but indicating zir willingness to meet. So, after breakfast and a bit of twiddling our thumbs so we wouldn’t show up early, I took out the token zie’d given me and Teleported us over.

It was another stretch of woods we didn’t recognize, though the trees were different from the ones near Troihari, much thinner and paler, and there were mountains nearby. If we aren’t (because we’re still here) in the actual domain of the Lady of the Ashenwalds, I suspect we’re very close, from what I remember of descriptions of her lands. After a moment where I wondered where this supposed bolthole might be, a curtain of foliage was pushed to the side, and then there were Cerunwe’s usual red hair ornaments and the rest of Cerunwe with them, gesturing us into a bolthole I hadn’t seen.

It’s a bare bones spot, not much more than a fairly comfortable cot, a few shelves of rations and useful items, but it was enough (and I can make a Mansion for more comfortable lodgings for us tonight), and we sat down to discuss the dark side of the Feywild.

To start, we laid out terms: information about Avka’s hoard for information, the beautiful short swords for more material help like maps and such things, and for actual guidance into the dark, pretty much whatever zie asks for. It was obvious from the start, though, that zie has less than no desire to go back there. It’s possible that the Lady of the Ashenwalds might urge zir into it, or we’ll hit on a temptation big enough to convince zir, but for the moment, I’m not counting on their guidance as we try to track Onver down.

Information, though, zie was more than willing to give us, and we asked for heaps of it.

Environment, to start—whether I was right in assuming cold, whether there are trends to what sort of spaces we might find, all that kind of thing. The Feywild, of course, isn’t given to easy answers. Cerunwe allowed that a thick jacket or cloak would be appreciated in many areas, and that it’s overall cool, but not the ice fields I was unhappily imagining, at least not until you get very deep in. It’s not the environment, zie explained with exasperated patience, that is so impassable and dangerous that it’s made nearly a third of the Feywild taboo. It’s the places where magic is hard or impossible to use, the beasts, the other things. The environment is merely the environment.

So we asked about the beasts next, a smaller question to grapple with than the use of magic. There are large dogs and wolves and cats with razor-sharp claws, and sometimes blink dogs and displacer beasts. Plants with wills of their own (which made me think about a story Maliah mentioned off-hand about plant zombies that can control people’s will with despair). Some fey, particularly those whose magics are innate rather than pulled from a well of magic and bent by will. Tree spirits, hags. The rumors of a dragon or two out there somewhere, though zie was scrupulous in saying zie can’t confirm those.

Getting food, zie volunteered, can also be a difficulty. You can hunt most recognizable beasts, or even spiders if circumstances are desperate, but we shouldn’t trust any forage, even if it looks safe—too many poisons and hallucinogens, which makes me very glad about the amount of food we bought, especially considering I can’t count on being able to cast the Mansion for us.

Cerunwe also warned us that while it’s less of an issue for us, we can’t count on healing being available. That’s partly due to magic being chancy (though zie thinks healing potions are likely to keep working, thankfully), and partly because there aren’t many healers we can go to if we’re tapped out. The lack of magic means wounds can stick around longer than we’re used to, be more likely to infection and worse, so we’ll have to be scrupulous about keeping injuries clean and changing bandages often, which makes me glad we’ve picked up a few healing kits lately.

Zie also said, though the list of beasts zie gave us didn’t sound too much worse than what we’ve seen elsewhere, that even with four of us, powerful as we are, there are going to be times when we want to retreat rather than fight, and I plan to take that information to heart as much as I possibly can. (I’d already mentioned, back on Reorx’s plane, that with everyone else able to go much faster than I can, it might be that if we have to retreat I’ll leap on Squirt’s back. Especially if I’m already so much dead weight half the time, swinging a sword instead of doing what I’m good at.) Zie emphasized the importance of covering our tracks, and I am glad, as I always am, that we have Maliah, who knows how to do that kind of thing very well indeed.

From there, we moved on to the more esoteric worries. There unfortunately doesn’t seem to be any way of detecting one of the spaces where magic doesn’t work as well until you’re in it and something doesn’t work, though Maliah’s bow glows in the cold so it’s possible we’ll have early warning if that flickers out while it’s still cold. Time distortion fields, though, are much easier to detect: they’re hiding in jump rings. We should not, zie stressed, go through any jump ring we haven’t had confirmed by a local under honest bargain as safe, with either no or minimal time dilation.

(I’d love to avoid jump rings entirely, with that worry ahead of us, but given the Feywild’s layout, there’s not much hope of that.)

As for magic, it’s anyone’s guess what will work and what won’t. Most of our spells, I’m guessing, will be less powerful or nonexistent for good portions of the journey, but things like Niko’s ability to heal with a touch, or mine to give my friends a little boost of inspiration in a battle or to use that same force of inspiration in other ways, aren’t really spells, and I don’t know if they’re innate enough that we’d get by the same way Squirt will still be able to blink, or hags apparently can still use most of their powers out there.

Then come the questions that Cerunwe can’t really answer, of where Onver is, in all that vast space. We don’t really have anything of his to track him by, though a hag might be able to help us if we did. We don’t know the space well enough to know where boltholes are, though again in such a vast space there could be thousands. Cerunwe volunteered that there are some ruins, but they’re so ruined that it’s more trouble than it’s worth to put them to any use, so there aren’t likely to be landmarks to help us find him either. And he was wily enough to avoid Niko for twenty years, on that first hunt, though Niko didn’t have Maliah with her back then.

It’s possible that if we do meet something as powerful as a dragon, they would have some knowledge of a recently-arrived powerful being, and might be willing to trade for that knowledge, but that’s anyone’s guess. If we get very close, the piece of Reorx’s power that he stole might let Niko lead us, but I’m guessing that would lead us right into his probably-very-defensible position, when I’d rather tempt him out of it to get on more even footing.

I also asked how far into the dark side someone, even someone very powerful, can safely live, especially since Cerunwe had spoken about zir memories of the deepest parts of the darkness as barely coherent, which made me worry time might get odd there. Zie didn’t care to guess, but said it’s really more a matter of the magic problems than time problems (implication was that the time problems might have been because of those time distortion jump rings, or possibly simple delirium, zie was very detailed about the risks of injuries getting infected and rotting. I’m not sure I should ask). As very few beings are prepared to live in the extreme conditions of the very brightest parts of the Feywild, though, very few are adapted for the opposite extremes in the darkness, so at least chances are we might be able to avoid going that far?

We all had to digest that information for a while, so we told Cerunwe part of the information we’d offered zir: the story of what we’ve been up to since we left the Feywild last, Avka’s hoard and the Astral Sea and everything in between.

In the middle of that, I couldn’t contain some curiosity: ever since I found out that Jhasdej’s primary planet was mostly spent and uninhabited, even back when I cast Legend Lore with a Wish and heard a single elvish voice reading out a poem about them, I wondered, in the back of my mind, if maybe they were the star that shone on the Honorien Dominion, and thus on Cerunwe’s earlier years. So I asked zir the name of zir planet of origin, and after a moment, they said it was Aland—the same name Jhasdej gave us, which seems like an incredible coincidence to the point that I wonder if the Lady had some hand in it, knowing who Jhasdej was when she gave us their name.

Not long after that, Cerunwe excused zirself, partly to talk to the Lady of the Ashenwalds about everything, and probably partly to consider whether zie can bring zirself to return to the dark parts of the Feywild (though zie is already kindly offering to bring us up to the edge of it, which is a help and no doubt worthy of the swords), and also probably party to have a chance to think about us telling zir we’d spoken to zir star of origin in person and that Maliah is returning to the planet zie left to restore it and offered to bring zie along if zie would like.

We’ll have plenty of time to ask them more questions on our way to the dark side of the Feywild, though, so I don’t mind giving them the time. I could certainly use some time myself, to try to get my fear under some measure of control.

As long as I have reception, maybe we can find time when you’re off work and I’m in camp to do a short video call so you can reassure yourself of my safety and I can see how you (and PA) are doing? No problem if not, but it seems silly not to at least say hello before I go somewhere inaccessible again.

There’s another rule I’ll make for myself after that long vacation I promised you at the start of this letter: I’ll try and stay mostly in places with reception for all that time, with the exception of some visits to Kirim. But maybe I can try to convince you to visit with me, one of those times? I’ll wear you down one of these days, I promise Teleport isn’t bad, especially when I know precisely where I’m going.

Love,

Elyn

#in character #in character: letter #letter to: tyko #episode 204 #location: reorx's plane #location: the feywild #person: maliah #person: mehrnikorsa(niko)#deity: reorx #person: dwiona #person: emulf #person: cerunwe #looking ahead #information gathering

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letterstosestrilles · 2 years

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Dear Cerunwe,

By the time you get this, odds are we’ll be in the Feywild. I say “odds are” because there’s a god involved, which means this message could send sooner than expected, or later than expected, or be precisely on time but us in the wrong place. So I will be sending another message, or a Sending, when we are in the Feywild proper, but I wanted to reach out in advance.

(And yes, I’m being as intriguing as possible, because I’m about to ask about making one hell of a bargain and it can’t hurt to pique both your interest and that of the Lady of the Ashenwalds. I hope you’ll convey her my respect, if you choose to speak to her about this.)

We told you, when we met you, about at least some of what our larger quest was, the reason we had to go to the Deeping Wellemere. Reorx, the Crafter, was sorely hurt and we wanted to do our best to heal them. Maybe we even told you a little about a man, Aturav Onver, who Niko had been seeking and who was the most likely person to have done the hurting.

We have a few adventures to catch you up on for certain, but I’ll skip to the current point of them: Reorx is restored, and setting their domain to rights. They, and others, have confirmed that Aturav Onver is the one who did the deed, and with Reorx having delicate work to do and gods having some trouble traveling anonymously on mortal planes, Maliah and I have agreed to accompany Niko to truly see this quest through.

Reorx knows the general, if not the specific, location of this man, and I suspect you’re understanding it now if you haven’t already: Onver is in the Feywild. And, more specifically, he’s in the full dark of the Feywild, hiding his plans and hiding from those hunting him in areas that magic has trouble penetrating.

We only know one person who’s been there and survived, one person we might be able to offer a few things to.

Advice and frank speech we’d appreciate, and whatever maps and charts you might have made even if the areas may since have changed would be welcome. If you were willing, for of course a significantly higher price, your personal guidance as far as you cared to go would be a blessing.

Obviously I can’t offer fair terms until I know the limits of your willingness, but aside from the story of what we’ve done since we left you, I know I can offer a specific location of a hoard that might interest your lady and a description of at least a few of the defenses (with the caveat that because of the protections and the way it’s set up I can’t tell you precisely what’s in it, nor can I make any promises about your ultimate ability to access those things). I am also, as I’ve implied, sitting on a sofa in the personal domain of the Crafter right now. I’m sure we can find a few things that may tempt you, if you choose to guide us.

Is there a place it would be easy for you to meet in person to discuss details and work out terms? Some places we’ll have to journey to on foot, since I don’t know how exact gods are with their Plane Shifting, but I could easily meet you in Troihari, or another place I remember well enough to return to with Teleport.

Let us know if you’re interested—or even if you’d just like to meet for tea, but I very much hope you’re interested. Even if I could find another guide, I always prefer to rely on people I’ve trusted to watch my back before.

Best,

Elyn

#in character #in character: letter #letter to: cerunwe #episode 203 #location: reorx's plane #person: maliah #person: mehrnikorsa(niko)#deity: reorx #looking ahead

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letterstosestrilles · 2 years

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Dear Tyko,

It’s been a few days since I Sent to you, and maybe you’re wondering why I’m not back somewhere you can get my letters again yet. Obviously this letter won’t explain until I’ve already left, but I don’t know whether I’ll actually be somewhere with reception in between now and … everything else. I hope I am, I want you to know what I’m up to in far more words than I can do in Sending, but I think we’ll be figuring that out tomorrow or the next day.

Before I talk about what’s next, though, there’s a lot to catch you up on, as you might imagine, having read my last letter. Questions I’ve asked and had answered, and the next steps, because there are next steps. Maybe you, like me, had a moment’s desperate hope (and fear, in my case—I can’t deny that I would have had trouble letting go, even if I would have for your sake and those of others who love me, if there were other people who had any faith they could complete this quest) that Emulf and Dwiona would take this task on with Niko, but they have other business to attend to, and I can’t blame them. So yes, there are next steps, but I do need to tell you about how we got to them.

When I last wrote, I was groggy and unprepared to face the world, but writing it down helped, as it always does, so I went off and found Maliah, who was also groggy. We drank some tea from the jug and chatted a little, mostly about our exhaustion. Eventually, she heard voices in the distance, and when we poked our heads out, Niko was also poking hers out, hair mussed and eyes squinted in the scant light. She asked if we wanted breakfast, and when we agreed, led us to the kitchen, pausing sometimes at a crossroads as she reminded herself what direction something was in.

Dwiona and Emulf were up when we got there, for a given value of it. Emulf had pitched himself so far to the side in his seat that he was leaning in the wall, coffee perilously close to spilling it whenever he drank. Dwiona was determinedly upright, not letting herself lean on anything including the back of her seat. They greeted us and offered desperately-needed coffee, and we all tried to find the rhythm of a conversation while we drank it.

Maliah and I did our best to catch them up on major events in the Prime Material Plane over the past two and a half years, though it’s shameful how little we know about what’s actually in the news, other than being fairly certain that Kirim was a major story, at least. I asked if either of them had home planets or stations they wanted to hear about specifically, but they waved me off to ask about generalities, which makes sense with some things I surmised later, but we’ll get there.

We did a little better over breakfast, where Dwiona brought out some things from a pantry that I suspect works much like the one in my Mansion and gave us all plenty of protein and bread to get our energy back up. Maliah and I talked a little more about our backgrounds, and what adventures we’ve been on with Niko that don’t fully involve the path she led us down, asked a few hesitant questions about whether they’ve had time to do much eating or resting since Reorx was attacked (the answer is “very little,” especially with their companions leaving a year ago to seek more help, Niko not having returned), and generally tried to make a very strange situation as normal as we could.

Eventually, though, it was obvious that not much else could get started without speaking to our host, so we all set our dishes aside and let Dwiona and Emulf go ask Reorx where they’d like to meet us while Niko started fussing with her hair and Maliah and I frantically straightened ourselves out. When we were all settled, though, we went out to something like a veranda, a place with a view of the sky (the only thing that still shifts moment by moment instead of holding steady as long as one is in the room) and no true greenery but crafted greenery: wrought metal flowers, silk vines, materials I can’t pretend to recognize.

Reorx, in orcish form, looked much more collected than they had the day before, and much more rested too. They asked, to begin, for more details on how we’d come to be there, and Niko obliged, to my everlasting gratitude. She knew the details that would most interest them, and the most about how she first realized something strange was going on in the first place. I only tossed in occasional commentary—things we saw before we started traveling with her full-time, personal confirmations of people I know who have been on the constant-inspiration side of things, and the occasional comment when Niko was being too modest about her own contributions. Maliah did much the same, and all told, we condensed the tale of our travels down to an hour or so, with a little extra when Reorx asked some clarifying questions.

When it was done, it was our turn to ask questions, and I started with the one I answered for you at the start of this letter: whether Reorx’s companions (it’s the best word I’ve got for them, when they aren’t all paladins and there’s clearly too much fondness and knowledge on both sides for “followers” to feel right) wanted to take over the quest now that Niko has her memories back. As I said, Dwiona and Emulf demurred, and Reorx has plenty of work to do with a lot of divine delicacy putting their domain back in order.

So the problem of Onver was squarely back in our laps, and we started asking questions as appropriate, starting with what it is that he actually wants. Reorx said, rather wry, that Onver isn’t given to dramatic speeches about his goals, but they expect that what he wants is power. The power of a god, even, but without the responsibilities or obligations of one. Reorx suspects they were a first test, not a final one.

The next question, one that’s been keeping me up nights, is whether the damage to Reorx was from charging or discharging the weapon. We know that it can pull from beings as well as from the ethereal plane, after all, and the kind of charge you can gain from hurting a god is not the kind of charge we want in Onver’s hands. Unfortunately, it seems to have been some measure of both, and Reorx can tell that some portion of their essential nature is in Onver’s hands—it allows them to do at least some general tracking on him, but that he succeeded in even that measure is terrifying.

Another logical question: what can a mortal do, with a piece of a god’s essential nature? With a piece of Reorx’s, given their domain. Pure destruction, certainly, but if all Onver wanted to do was destroy, he could easily have spent that power already. Other options are more nebulous: he could use it like an incredibly powerful version of the inspiration I can give, or infuse it into an object, or hoard it for when he gains more power at the next stage of his plan, whatever that is.

That gave us all plenty to think of, so I went sidewyas to Niko, who had her full and proper memories restored to her so recently and who I’m full of questions about and for. I started with something Reorx had said the day before—that they’d taken Niko’s memories to keep Onver from following her back once she found him. But Onver had also been brought to them once, so I was confused. Reorx cleared it up, starting the story a little back from that, as I’ll relay to you now.

After Onver destroyed his community so brutally, which Niko told us about, Reorx charged her and Achenna, who I haven’t met, to bring Onver to them for a conversation—as they say, punishment isn’t really in their remit, but something clearly had to be done and it was Reorx’s paladin Onver betrayed. They did, which is when Onver attacked and whisked away (some kind of teleportation magic, but whether it was magic in an item, a scroll, intrinsic, or learned, Reorx couldn’t say), but the protection was less about the location, in the end, and more about knowledge.

Niko and these other companions are all very close to Reorx, it seems, in a way most people aren’t to gods (which makes me think about Mishakal and her comment that Reorx’s plane might be more comfortable for us than many divine planes, so I’m guessing it’s not terribly common for gods to take on companions, but that seems rude to ask). They’re privy to secrets of divine knowledge, of universal and creative knowledge, that shouldn’t fall into Onver’s hands. Moreover, when you’re that close to a god, apparently there are means of tracking, so removing Niko’s connection kept her safe until Onver gave up looking for her.

That was a lot to think about, so I sidestepped again and got another blow to my perception of things for my troubles: I asked about the timeline of things, and whether the return of Niko’s memories had given her time back too. She laughed, a little wildly, and said that apparently the time between Onver destroying his community and Niko and Achenna bringing him before Reorx was twenty years. (I don’t know much about genasi lifespans, but you’ve met Niko. She does not look old enough to have been hunting someone for twenty years. Another question I don’t quite have the courage to ask.)

More than that, the memories she shared with us of bringing Onver to a mortal temple to Reorx were modified. She wasn’t a regular paladin called to be a servant and companion to Reorx in this circumstance. She’d been with them for some time, and the perhaps-killed head of the temple was Reorx themselves, twisting things so Niko could know what she needed to without betraying that knowledge if she was found. Apparently these companions go on what they agreed to call pilgrimages sometimes, returning to mortal planes to wander, learn new techniques, inspiring interesting projects, and the like. Niko was on one of those when Onver fell into her lap.

(And fell, it seems, by design. He might not have known exactly who was coming, but as Reorx put it, there are ways people can make themselves attractive in such situations, and if it hadn’t been a servant of Reorx, it might have been, I don’t know, a high-level cleric of an agricultural god interested in the supposed uses of the machine, or even, as they said, Gaizka, powerful enough to draw interest.)

The extra twenty years certainly make parts of what we’ve been surmising make sense. Niko and Reorx agree that she was hunting him fiercely enough that he can’t have been putting too much into place, but Maliah and I remembered Shaan Liadon, and his mother who might possibly be a warlock, which gave us all a sober moment. That’s more of a loose thread, a side problem I already know Athan and Gaizka have their eyes on from different vantage points, but it’s still a reminder that Onver might have done plenty of things even on the run.

They also agree that while Onver might have been presenting himself as a regular denizen of the Plane of Earth when she met him, chances are large that’s a disguise. There’s no guessing what he actually is, when there are so many powerful beings, Reorx included, who can change their guise on a whim, but we should be prepared for him to have resources and powers aside from his weapon, at the very least. He definitely has access to magic, by whatever means, even if his primary offensive capability is the weapon.

Well, let me be precise, so I’m harder to take by surprise: with Reorx, he really only tried to fight or wound with the weapon, and didn’t attack when he was separated from it, just tried to get back and hamper others’ movements. (At least at that point, he had to be next to the weapon to fire it. Point in our favor. When Niko and Achenna brought him in, it was using surprise and ambush tactics. Point less in our favor.) It may be that it’s the most damage he can do so he doesn’t see the point in doing anything else. It may be that it’s the most damage he can do to a god, so he didn’t try lesser measure. And it may be that he stuck to the weapon because he wanted power more than he wanted to win, in which case he definitely wouldn’t care to stick to it with us, since we can’t grant him divine power.

That was all a lot to take in, so I made another sidestep: does Reorx want him alive? Niko had talked about taking Onver alive before, to deliver him to justice, but apparently she’s done that once before. And, from what it seems, Reorx doesn’t care. If we deliver them Onver, they’ll deal with him as they see fit. If he doesn’t make it back but he’s dealt with, they’ll be pleased enough to move on to other things.

Maliah stepped in and asked the wonderfully practical question of what the thing looks like, after all this worry about it. Niko, obviously, has seen some plans for it, so she can tell us more, but it does look superficially like a drill, since it is a planar drill even if it functions as much by magic and metaphor as by its physical components. There are apparently a lot of lenses and lasers, which seem like parts that could be sabotaged, or so I optimistically hope. It’s large, on an industrial or agricultural scale rather than a hand weapon.

Reorx seemed to see all of us listing a little, still tired after healing them, and brought the conversation to a close by saying that they could tell us at least vaguely where he is, and would give us anything they can, but that there are places in the universe where it’s hard for magical sight, even that of a god, to penetrate, and Onver has wisely holed up in one. That, though, they said, was to deal with after a few more days of recovery.

Before they sent us off for that recovery, though, they said that they wanted to thank us for coming and finishing the job their companions have been so faithfully doing. They asked if there’s anything we know we need, and I mentioned something to hold Onver once we have him, and they produced from the air, as though it were nothing, a pair of strong but light manacles with runes carved in that can apparently keep a person from using teleportation magic once you have them restrained, and I thanked them and they turned to other gifts.

Reorx gave each of us a gift and a blessing. Niko they said will have greater rewards when they’ve had time to think of what would be appropriate, but apparently the glaive she’s using has more powers than she knew, or used to have more powers, and they’ve restored it to full function. Her blessing is a blessing of health, and as Reorx said it, I could see her sitting up straighter, a little more vital, even if she still looked exhausted.

Maliah was given a beautiful tooled leather quiver, just the size of her regular one but with space to hold arrows, javelins, even extra longbows, all of which can be drawn even quicker than getting something from the bag of holding. Squirt didn’t receive a gift, but they both received blessings. Maliah’s is a blessing of protection—for one who protects her friends, said Reorx, and I’m pleased they see her so well. Apparently it will protect her, which I’m even more grateful about, a little extra ease in dodging and avoiding harm. Squirt’s blessing, which Maliah nearly wept over, is one of wound closure: he’s going to be a whole lot harder to kill, and easier to heal, which is worth weeping over, I’d say.

I got a puzzle to go with my gift and my blessing. They said (and meant, I since discovered) that they wanted to know more about my gloves, but in the meantime asked Dwiona for a particular harp, and when she handed it to them, a small and beautifully covered object, they strummed it once, and the music seemed to shiver into being as light in the air. They cupped it in their hands, blew it over my gloves, and now, it seems, the gloves have the powers of the harp: they’ll cast Fly, and Wall of Thorns, and several other spells, once a day each, and if I try to use the gloves to charm someone, which I don’t expect I’ll do often, they’ll have a harder time resisting it. They also said that as I look for how they stored the data, I may find it easier to do some of my own, which is the puzzle, and one I look forward to unraveling.

The blessing is one that may amuse you, actually—Reorx, like you, seems to agree that whatever my virtues, I’m not exactly overflowing with wisdom, and gave me a blessing of wisdom to make up for it. I’m used to discovering new reserves of power in myself, but I do have to admit it’s deeply strange to feel a god expand your understanding and powers of observation, and I keep finding myself in spirals wondering if I would have thought something in quite the same way before the blessing. Hopefully it will settle soon.

After that, and a great many thanks, we were given the run of the compound while Reorx took care of business.

Dwiona showed me to some absolutely gorgeous music rooms. They don’t have any overt acoustic material on walls or ceilings, but even just talking in them, you can feel the roundness in the tone, the way it’s almost an echo but doesn’t actually linger or muddy any sounds. I don’t think I’ve heard a concert hall as good. And they’re just there, full of musical instruments, each a perfect example of type, some of them types I’ve never heard of and couldn’t imagine. Others have the wood-and-rosin scent of a luthier’s shop, or sheets of brass to be shaped, wires to be turned into strings for palm-sized harps as much as for guitars twice as long as I am tall.

I spent most of the rest of the day absolutely enchanted, playing first one instrument, now another, each all pure and perfect tone, the smoothest trumpet I’ve ever heard, a drum whose beats could echo across miles, a fiddle Serime would kill to get her hands on.

I had, however, in a fit of wanting to do something for the exhausted people who haven’t had breaks and vacations with friends and family for the last two years, offered to treat everyone to dinner in the Mansion, and that included Reorx, so eventually I tore myself away and very quickly planned a feast and a Mansion that’s a bit less flamboyant than usual, just in time for everyone to come along.

It was a pleasant dinner, thank goodness. Squirt gorged himself on a dozen kinds of meat, everyone else appreciated the strange array of dishes I conjured up, roast hog next to Infernal curry next to that cake I always wanted to try from The Estate of Bidi-Maha in the Time of Industry, which was just as delicious as I always hoped. I kept conversation as light as I could, and Reorx and their companions mostly talked about crafting, and mishaps with trying new ones. When they lapsed, Maliah and I told some stories of the quests not directly related to helping Reorx.

Eventually, we all admitted defeat and left the Mansion behind to rest again.

Yesterday was quiet. I went back to the music rooms, and while I spent a little time looking at the spellwork and wondering how to replicate it, and pulling out Hanai’s old notes to see if the crystalline structure could be a key to it, I also spent some time doing some maintenance on the rest of my kit, since the gloves are the showiest part but not the only part. I redid the wiring in my belt to be more efficient with the larger amounts of data I need to access, recalibrated the sensitivity on my loop sensor, and, while I had such perfect recording acoustics, rerecorded a lot of my vocal samples.

Maliah and Niko had both disappeared, Niko to rooms dedicated to fibercraft and Maliah sometimes with her and sometimes looking at and testing out Reorx’s gorgeous collection of bows, and we were all enthusiastic over dinner, which we had in the kitchen this time and without a god along.

And then today, after a bit more of the same, Reorx called us to that veranda again, to talk to us about our next steps, since Onver doesn’t seem to be moving fast but we all want to be done with him anyway.

As I said, because Onver has a piece of Reorx’s power, they can’t pinpoint him, but they know at least vaguely where he is. And as I said, there aren’t many places that can block magic as thoroughly as the place he’s hiding. Reorx listed a few, each of which sounded inhospitable: pockets of the Shadowfell, certain corners of the Celestial Plane, some of the Outer Planes, where Reorx says Onver does not yet have the power to walk.

But Onver isn’t in any of those places. No, Onver is, it seems, on the dark side of the Feywild. The place they tell ghost and horror stories about, a place where large parts don’t allow any access to magic and where I’ll thus have a hard time being of any use to my friends at all to the point where I’m worried I’ll be dead weight for a decent amount of the journey, unless I can make friends with some unspeakable horrors on the way to Onver’s den. But you can’t make friends with the land, which is also against you, and contains, apparently, pockets where time distorts, where we could lose months or years. Reorx, helpfully, suggests we avoid those. I’ll have to ask what they look like.

Or, most likely, I’ll have to ask Cerunwe what they look like, because we do know one person who’s been to the dark side of the Feywild and come back out, if with more difficulty than ze has yet told us about. We’re going to owe zir a hell of a favor, but the thought of at least zir advice, if not zir guidance, is one of the only things giving me hope, when Maliah blanched as soon as Reorx said where Onver is. Maliah’s not scared of places, not really, not when she could explore them, but this she’s scared of, and that scares me in turn, even if something about it tugged my imagination and my interest when I was there.

Maybe I’ll get to write my song about it after all.

I don’t know if we’ll be back on the Prime Material Plane in between. These messages may send from the Feywild—I doubt the dark side has the reception to send messages, but if we need to find Cerunwe, we won’t be starting there.

I’m scared. Of Onver and of this. But I can almost see the end of it, now, and some hints of what could come after. I’ll just have to keep those in mind, because the nearer things are too terrifying to focus on for long.

Please tell me you’re reading something happy in book club this month.

Love,

Elyn

#in character #in character: letter #letter to: tyko #episode 203 #location: reorx's plane #person: maliah #person: mehrnikorsa(niko)#person: dwiona #person: emulf #deity: reorx #person: aturav onver #looking ahead

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letterstosestrilles · 2 years

Text

Dear Tyko,

I don’t actually know when I’m going to get to send this letter. In probably very little time, I’m sure I’ll find out, but I need to get my head on straight before I go venturing out in search of answers, and since I’ve been asleep for most of a day after only a few hours of work and didn’t have the time to debrief last night, I’ll do it now instead. I think I’m one of the less exhausted people in this place, so I don’t imagine anyone but Maliah will be up by the time I venture to poke my head out of this door, but I suppose we’ll see in time.

So: yesterday morning by my reckoning, Maliah, Niko and I Teleported to Ardra Rhyn to go back to the Temple of Mishakal, as we’d told her we would when we had the object of the quest she gave us, leaving Nosirion-1 and the kids behind, all of whom seemed to catch our nerves as we went, from Devon’s sober expression and Jesson’s anxious shifting.

We’d made an appointment this time, so there was a priestess waiting for us, one of the ones we’d spoken to last time, who asked us what we needed. We said we were there, as last time, to see Mishakal in the room where one can visit her personally, which went much more smoothly the second time. She also asked if there was anything she could do for us, and we told her our quest, the steps we’ve taken, what efforts would need to be made to duplicate our steps, and told her that if we don’t come back, someone needed to know and the temple seemed like a logical place of coordination. (We also let Athan and Kian know that we’re giving their names as potential sources of help too, and given how many pieces of our quest are known by powerful people like Gaizka and Ektarika, if something goes wrong, I trust our potential rescuers.)

That done, we went deep into the temple. Squirt quailed at coming along, remembering the disorientation, until Maliah pointed out that there was every chance that Mishakal would be sending us right from her receiving room to Reorx’s plane and that we might well end up in a fight without him. Then he consented to be brought along in exchange for the promise of a truly unholy amount of bacon the next time I cast the Mansion, and off we went, down into the pool of something that’s not liquid and not anything else I can describe.

It’s the kind of journey that I don’t think could ever get less disorienting. We traveled again through flashes of light, through a roiling world and into a grand dark space where Mishakal, so herself it’s impossible to describe her, awaited us.

We had a thousand questions, but she didn’t have many answers. I asked if she knew what Reorx’s spaces look like, so we could plan around a possible battlefield, and she said that while she thought their spaces tend to be more hospitable to mortals (by which I suppose she means that they have furniture and things recognizable as surroundings and buildings, unlike an almost-completely-formless void. No offense to her, I’m sure it’s perfectly comfortable if you’re a god, it’s just very strange for we poor mortals), she couldn’t make promises, especially if Onver had taken some measure of control, in which case things might be, reading between the lines, all but dissolving as the plane fought against itself.

(She also said, more comfortingly, that if the plane were fighting itself like that, it would be detectable from outside, and she detected no such thing.)

And then … we were ready to go, and not ready at all. Somehow, I think we’d all thought that there would be one last quest, one last thing to do that meant we couldn’t do it right then, but she just held up a hand, ready at a moment’s notice, and the three of us had to ask for a moment’s stay so we could sketch together what few plans for a battle we could manage. We redistributed a few potions, checked on our tally of healing potions, and chased a few plans in circles.

All of us agreed that Reorx had to be the first priority, and that I would try to get to them with Niko covering me. Both of us were rather grimmer about our prospects than Maliah was willing to be, and we had a chat about how willing to retreat we should be (I fall on the side of not wanting him to know our tricks if we come back a second time, Maliah falls on the side of us knowing his tricks too). I also offered myself as a distraction, to give Maliah time to think of any strategy she needed on the battlefield. (No, not bait exactly, we know how well that went with the driders, but you can’t deny that I can be very distracting when I want to be, and if Onver was going to be willing to talk, I’d be happy to let him talk as long as possible.)

And then, with that very vague plan in place, we turned to Mishakal, and she waved a hand, and we weren’t there anymore. It’s—the more I interact with deities, the more I tend to feel that perhaps a good amount of the reason they have clerics and paladins to do earthly magics for them is because their magic is not meant to work directly on mortals. Even when they don’t hurt, there’s a sense of something immensely powerful just barely held back, like we’re soap bubbles they’re trying to touch without popping.

I’d traveled so recently, out of my body, at the Lady of Stars’s behest, but this transportation was nothing like that. It was more like Gaizka’s Plane Shift than Teleport, but it was … imagine, perhaps, that with Plane Shift, it’s like being an object passed from one person to another, the first person not letting go completely until the second person has a secure hold. Mishakal tossed us, and for one terrifying instant we weren’t held by any plane at all, only by her will, and then we were—somewhere else.

Where, though, it was hard to tell. Space was dark around us, sometimes flashing with diffuse light, others with stars and constellations, others with a sudden flash of meteors overhead, again with sparks like in a forge, and for a second I was worried that we were stuck between planes, before I realized that we were standing on solid ground, on an island in the void. The ground was tiled, each tile a painted and patterned masterpiece, and plants climbed around the edges. Ahead of us, there was a bridge, the kind of bridge no engineer could possibly conceive of, every angle perfect, but it wasn’t over water, just over nothing at all, leading to a larger landmass, and a large low building capping a cliff.

We waited, but if Onver was there, he didn’t come out to meet us, didn’t know we were there. The only thing I noticed, and then couldn’t stop noticing, was a sound just at the edge of hearing, some long throbbing note that was somehow out of key, like in the universal orchestra playing the Chords of Creation just one voice was singing a quarter-tone sharp and the dissonance was prickling the hair on the back of my neck.

So forth we went: I went first, with Niko a few steps back, and Maliah and Squirt well back under Pass Without Trace, watching our backs and holding themselves in reserve.

The bridge held, was steady, but it was the only thing that was, I discovered as we got closer to that far landmass. The shape of the building or buildings, one story but vast as a city, stayed much the same, but nothing else about it did. Like the sky, it changed, never the same thing for more than a second. One moment it was onyx, and the next wood, and another pale stone, and then a material I didn’t recognize, and each time, the carvings, the shapes of the windows, the size of the stone, all of it was different, and maybe if that note hadn’t been in my ear, sometimes lancing pain through my jaw as we got closer, maybe I would have thought it was on purpose, that Reorx’s ever-changing nature made their plane malleable. But the discord told me something was wrong, and the changes were so quick that nobody could be getting joy from them.

Everything was quiet, and at the far end of the bridge were a set of doors where only the frame was shifting. They were engraved with a symbol, not the hammer I’m used to seeing as Reorx’s device but a pattern of bold lines. Niko, almost entranced, seemed to recognize them, and she said that she thought she could feel Reorx somewhere inside.

We pushed the door open, and we were in an ever-shifting entrance way with hallways leading out like a sun’s rays and another set of doors carved with the device in front of us. One moment there was a chandelier above us, and the next decorations of braided kelp, as the walls were polished metal, rough stone, perfect endless mirrors, wood carved in tiny geometric patterns. Inside, I could recognize that one moment it was dwarvish style, another elvish, another something unknown to me but then right to something elemental.

Inside, the off-key note was worse, jarring through my skull until I clenched my teeth to keep from feeling like they were rattling, but Niko was laser-focused on the second set of doors, and she said they seemed familiar, and that she thought she could follow her sense of her god from there.

I was worried, but she didn’t seem to be, just confused and dreamy, and I would have been no good trying to navigate with a headache building up in my temples, so I let her lead us through halls that would have been labyrinthine even if they hadn’t been flickering constantly, one second a rug on the floor and the next a polished parquet design that almost made me slip. We passed doors and doors, some open and some closed, and displays that must be tributes and that were less changeable than some other things: a dazzlingly beautiful woven tapestry, a small and slightly lopsided pot.

But full as the place was of decorations, it felt horribly empty, like if I’d gone to Am’elyn’s house and all the furniture was there but there wasn’t a single trinket in the place. What it was missing, I realized as I went on, was Reorx’s presence, the way Mishakal is in every atom of that place we’ve seen her in, the way the Lady of Stars colors your perception of the sky just by speaking to you. What else was missing, I realized as we passed through the maze of hallways, was people. You don’t have a building that size if you expect to be always alone in it, but nobody was there. Just us and our footsteps and the tone in my ear, louder with every step until all my bones were buzzing.

Eventually, Niko led us to a room with ever-changing tiles on the floor, with lights that were candles and Driftglobes and electric lights and torches, the vastly varying flickers of light making my headache worse, though that might also have been how loud the almost-sound felt by then, loud enough that I could feel differentiation in it, like an extra fuzz of feedback or distortion whenever the surroundings changed.

At the opposite side of the room was a set of doors, again engraved with that sigil, and they didn’t change either. They were some kind of metal, maybe bronze though it was hard to tell with the flickering, and they were tall enough to make even Niko look short. When I drew up close, they seemed to be vibrating in sympathy with the tone that was taking up half my attention by then, and on the other side, I could hear urgent murmurs, some kind of thump.

It sounded like the sound of danger, but not of battle, and I took a risk, looked at Maliah and Niko and Squirt, did what I could to give us all courage in the moment, and knocked.

There was a startled yelp, and a pause, and then someone called out, sensibly enough to reassure me that Onver wasn’t on that side of the door, “If you’re helping, come help!”

The doors were too heavy for me to push if they’d just been regular doors, but they seemed to realize that someone was pushing them and they opened for me, and Niko and I walked through into chaos.

It was a large square receiving room, and the flickering from stone to wood to metal to stone to the material they build with in the Astral Sea to wood again seemed even faster there, more urgent, but that was hardly the focus of my attention, because we’d stumbled into a tableau it took me a moment to parse: a dwarvish woman with keen eyes and a harp near to hand with her arms wide after a spell, a half-elvish man trying to stagger his way to his feet with what looked like chains made from light dangling from his arms, and in between them, a figure half-collapsed on the ground, one as ever-changing as the room around us. Now a humanoid, now something like a snake made of light or magic or both, now a creature of the ocean and now a creature lighter than air: Reorx, their ever-shifting nature turned against them, and the discordant note more piercing than ever, like their clear agony given voice through their plane.

There were a thousand questions I could have asked, and the sound was so awful I was starting to worry it might make me sick. I picked one at random, asking how long it had been like that in there. Two years and more, the woman told me, and I told her that lined up with what I knew. I asked who they were, and got their names: she was Dwiona, and he was Enulf, and that told me nothing about why they were there, but since they were helping Reorx, all I did was give all of our names and tell them that if we could get Reorx to a stable enough point that they could take a potion, I thought we could at least start them on the road to healing.

But then there was a flicker and Maliah was barely through the door and Enulf shouted at Niko to close it, and there were a chaotic few seconds while we slammed the door, and I kept my eyes on Reorx just well enough to see that there was a jagged gash in them somewhere, and that it stayed with them from form to form. Like with the Deeping Wellemere’s water, Jhasdej’s blood would be a help applied as well as consumed, according to Mishakal, so I tried to think of how to get some to them without spilling any of the precious substance.

Within a few seconds, it was clear that Dwiona and Enulf have been exhausted for a long time, that they’ve been fighting a losing battle and keeping Reorx’s violent shifts and pain from spreading past that room, and just as quickly as that, we leaped in, trying everything at our disposal. I’ve seen Niko spin foes up into webs conjured from the air through Reorx’s power, and asked her to try that first, and she did: the threads were more like thick silken ropes, almost glowing in the room, but she cried out and fell as soon as the spell took hold.

Maliah tried Grasping Vine, asked Dwiona to help her with Plant Growth, and Dwiona grew clover from the stones (she’s a bard, but that’s certainly not a trick I know, I should ask her how she does it) for Maliah to make into bindings when Niko’s gave out, and I watched Reorx, waited for a form I could approach when they became something very like a fire elemental and pushed me back when I tried to come closer. I poured a small portion of the blood into a smaller vial so I wouldn’t have to waste any, and looked for an opening, trying to call out inspiration like I do for my allies just in case it would make them hold a form only a little longer.

And then I remembered Time Stop. Reorx didn’t have to hold still. I just had to wait for them to take a form I could heal and then I could get close enough to tip part of the vial onto their wound and hope that would stabilize them enough to take the rest of the potion. I told everyone that, and Maliah redoubled her efforts to hold them, and Enulf and Dwiona threw up some kind of ward when Reorx turned into darkness to keep them contained, and then they were a humanoid, and I cast the spell for the first time, and everything stopped.

The discordant note was still singing out, but it was easier to ignore when it was just one long tone with none of the distorted shifts that came with the flickering. Dwiona and Maliah were working in concert, the note of Dwiona’s song a low and soothing counterpoint to the high dissonant tone. Squirt was leaning against Maliah to lend her some stability and strength. Enulf and Niko were both on the ground, Enulf halfway up and Niko clutching her head.

I took a moment to breathe and center myself, because suddenly I had all the time in the world. I looked at Reorx, whose head I wouldn’t easily be able to reach but whose shoulder I could, twisted as it was to face me and with an ugly dark gash in it like Ejyl’s terrible wounds. And, with a brief prayer to any god that might care to listen, Reorx included, I tipped out the smaller vial directly over the wound.

As soon as the first drop touched the wound, dripping thick and viscous like warm honey, like it did when Jhasdej gave it to us, time rushed back into being with a vengeance. The blood flowed and trickled and filled the gash, and there was a roar, Reorx’s face twisted with even more pain like I’d just poured alcohol on a wound, and I couldn’t hear anything, discordant note or not, for a moment, two moments, though I was aware of apologizing several times like I might if patching Maliah up made her wince. My headache could have split my skull by then, and I felt a trickle of blood from one ear at the sheer volume of the pain, and then there was stillness, and Reorx was upright at the center of the room.

They seemed to pull Dwiona and Maliah’s plants into themselves, and to shift again, but with more stability, into something like a fey, the still-knitting wound like a blight at their shoulder. But they were standing straight, even if everything about them seemed wilted and exhausted, when they looked at all of us, panting and barely upright after what must have been less than five minutes of work.

As soon as I could hear again, I offered the rest of the potion, and they plucked it politely from my hands and drank it in one gulp, and after a second, that one wrong voice in the choir, the too-sharp note, blended off and away, and there wasn’t silence, not really, but there was ease.

They didn’t speak yet. They shifted again, but this time there was control, and they took their time about it, choosing what they wanted to be, reconnecting with their self and their domain, becoming a dwarf with hair elaborately jeweled and braided.

And then Niko, barely back on her feet and still breathless, pitched herself into prostration at their feet, breathlessly apologizing for failing them. Maliah and I exchanged a look, both of us ready to step in if Reorx broke her heart or scolded her as they had no right to do. But no, we were right to believe, both of us, that Reorx values her more than she knew, that she hadn’t been stripped of powers or memories as a punishment: they drew her to her feet, kissed her brow, and told her that they’d taken far more than they meant to, but that she’d come back, and they called her “my Mehrnikorsa” in a way that felt a little more intimate than, say, the Lady of Stars talking to me.

Reorx also said that they’d been so preoccupied with their pain that they hardly knew what had been going on and then in the first of the conversation that followed, Dwiona and Enulf said that Niko had been there with them when Onver had attacked, which baffled all of us until Niko shook her head and said she thought perhaps there were more gaps in her memory after all. Apparently Reorx’s closest companions (I have so many questions) were here when Onver arrived, and Niko was among them. And when things got bad and Onver got away, Dwiona and Enulf stayed to keep Reorx stable and sent out their companions to find help.

So Niko wasn’t sent away in disgrace, she was sent as a trusted agent to get help, and Reorx explained that they only meant to take enough memories that if Onver found her she couldn’t lead him right back to Reorx (confusing, if he found them once, but I imagine we’ll get more answers today), but that by then they were in so much pain that they lost control. She asked, dazed, after someone named Achenna, who apparently died in the initial conflict but was revived and is also out hunting for help, as well as maybe someone else, though I was so confused at this new twist in Niko’s history by that point that I was hardly paying attention.

I stumbled through the very basics of how we’d met Niko and come to follow her in her quest, but nobody was ready for a full story then, though once Reorx was restored to power they also healed us all (though again, it felt very odd. I should read some literature about divine magic). Instead, we all admitted that we were barely on our feet, and I think Reorx had some delicate godly work to do, so Dwiona showed us to rooms, fetched us some food from somewhere, and left us all to collapse into our beds and sleep dreamlessly for what I think was sixteen hours on my part. The ones who have been here working constantly for years deserve to sleep for days on end if they want to. Though I imagine they may want to reassure themselves of Reorx’s welfare.

And we all owe each other stories. I want to know about Niko’s history, and there’s no sign of Onver, where he might have gone, how and why he came in the first place, what he might be doing now. (And, with this new facet of Niko’s memories, there’s the worry that this all started well before we feared it did, which might also change the connection with Liadon, though I’m less sure of that. A timeline would definitely be helpful.) Reorx and the others deserve to know what we’ve done to get to them, and to help us plan next steps, since my job doesn’t feel done until Onver has been dealt with.

Now, though, if I’m going to get those answers, I do need to go find everyone, and get more information to write to you. If you get this before I’m back in the Prime Material Plane, tell everyone on the mailing list we’re okay? And I’ll Send to you later if I can, for the same reason. We’ve done this part of our errand, at least. Maybe, with Reorx restored, dealing with Onver will be easier.

We can only hope, right?

Love,

Elyn

#in character: letter #in character #letter to: tyko #episode 203 #location: ardra rhyn #location: reorx's plane #letter to: maliah #person: mehrnikorsa(niko)#person: squirt #deity: mishakal #deity: reorx #person: dwiona #person: emulf #godly business #suspenseful situations

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letterstosestrilles · 2 years

Text

Dear Brennu,

I’ll be leaving Nosirion-1 tomorrow for Ardra Rhyn, after a lovely few days of visiting, and since the kids have had to go to school and we have a farewell dinner tonight, I thought I’d catch you up on the last few days, when I’ve been so busy I’ve hardly had a chance to write.

After I left Sestrilles and met up with Maliah and Niko again, we came to Mir, a small station I don’t know if you’ve heard anything about. It’s where Maliah and I met (or rather, en route and just about to land there), and we’ve got some friends and professional contacts we wanted to meet up with there.

We started, probably wisely, with the professional contacts, Hiuda and the AI Adilet at the Mir branch of The Silver Tree. (Maliah was originally meant to go work for them full-time, before our adventures led us extremely astray, and we did a short-term contract for them as our first adventure together.) I think, in the confusion of my story about the star and the Astral Sea, I mentioned that Maliah’s task in thanks for the star’s gift is magical restoration of the planets in their orbit, and that she got coordinates but not ones she could really use. So she gave those to Adilet, along with the name Aland, which was apparently the most common name, or at least the longest-used, of the most chiefly inhabited of those planets. I mentioned, for what it was worth, that if they went searching in the historical record, I suspect that at least some of the residents were elvish, and they thanked us for our help and after a bit more chatting, and a promise to come and give them a much more detailed version of our adventures soon, we went off to our next stop.

The Crow is a quiet port inn run by our friends Athan and Kian, who are very good at getting us information when we need it and who have a story much longer than I could tell you in one letter. I’ll tell that story the next time I see you in person! Or at least all I can reasonably share, and all about their relationship with us. They got out a bottle and some glasses and took us in the back room to listen to some of the messier parts of our adventures and sympathize and offer perspective and to keep us from drowning in our worries and our fears too much.

Kian, who when he’s not bartending works with arcana, tech, and the intersection of those things, offered to tune up any equipment that needs looking at, which we took him up on gladly. A good portion of our equipment got dumped in a pond in the Feywild (another long story for later), so he checked for shorts and rust on anything electrical or metal. He also, when I presented him with the PA bot I introduced to you, who got dumped in the same pond, got it running perfectly again, and unlocked a text mode that lets it display its text in rainbow colors, which it’s enjoying immensely.

After a day, though, we got in touch with Loraine, the mother of the kids, and told her we’d pick them up at school, since they go up on Mir and Circle up and down every day, and went to grab them, where they reacted with delighted surprise and the youngest, Jesson, who’s properly outgrown me since I last saw him, nearly bowled us over before turning the brunt of his enthusiasm on Squirt. We went and got donuts at a shop Jesson recommended while they told us how they’re enjoying school.

Devon, who is very ready to be out of standard education and on to more interesting studies, admitted to enjoying his chemistry class, in particular because he’s hoping to buy a textbook about applying chemistry formulas to transmutation spells, which is very outside my areas of specialty but which I was delighted to hear him talk about. Loren’s class went on a trip to see some of Mir’s workings, and she’s enamored with the air filtration system, so I got to tell her how a station’s filtration systems differ from a ship’s. Jesson is learning to draw boards and also built a mostly-functional dam with his toys at home (and with liberal help from brother and sister).

We Teleported down to Nosirion-1 together, picking up Niko on the way (I don’t know how much she told you of her history when you met, but she spent a decent amount of time on Nosirion-1 when we first found her, recovering a bit from her trauma before she went out to find the mystery we’ve been chasing down), and ever since then, it’s been very little but entertaining the kids, splitting them up to get some quality time with each of us, giving them gifts we picked up in the Feywild and the Astral Sea.

Maliah and I also had a chat with Devon, who’s old enough and wary enough, not to mention more than smart enough, to read between the cheerful lines of the letters we sent to them. Much as we talk about the displacer beast Maliah temporarily adopted, the magma tardigrades in the volcano where we got the Khardab’zielach, the architecture and the captive storms in the Astral Sea, he knows that we’re in all these dangerous places for a reason, one that’s urgent and one that has us worried.

We didn’t tell him everything, because he’s very much the sort who would decide to come after us if he thought for a second he could help, but we told him that yes, we’re in danger, and that we’re terrified and not sure we’re ready, but that we’re better prepared than most people, and we have very good reasons and means to come back. He wasn’t fully reassured (nor should he have been, we can’t make any promises and he knows it), but he’s definitely one where it helps to know more, not less. I imagine in a few years, when Loren and Jesson are old enough to understand more, we’ll be able to tell them more, and they’ll have the comfort of knowing that we pulled through it okay.

And, on that note, well—I told you we’re going to Ardra Rhyn tomorrow. There, I expect we’ll be allowed to speak to Mishakal directly, as we did once before, and from there, I can’t imagine there’s much that will keep us from deciding that our next smart step is going directly to Reorx’s plane. And I might be able to write there, but I have serious doubts that I would be able to send my writings from there. I don’t know whether we’re just (“just”) going to meet with an injured god, or if there’s a terrifying battle awaiting me. I could be gone a few days, or much longer.

Don’t worry about me too much, will you? Like I told Devon, we’ve got very good reasons and means to get home no matter what we’re greeted with. And I’ll write you as soon as I can, and look forward to hearing about all your adventures too, with the hearty hope that they’re significantly less exciting than mine could be.

Yours,

Elyn

#in character #in character: letter #letter to: brennu zahin #episode 203 #location: mir #location: nosirion 1 #person: hiuda #person: adilet #people: kian and athan #people: devon and loren #person: jesson #person: loraine #looking ahead #the silver tree #elyn and brennu

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