33.5 Pastries Are Still Important
General Summary
Day 514
The evening is quiet and cheerful with good food provided by Winter. His ingredients and supply have clearly had some attention on them and it is improved even beyond what it was last visit. Apparently the three youngsters found the fae quarter and many of the fae of seasons gave Jaeril and Liliales funny looks and were confused that the two of them had no idea how the Northern Grove had fared through the winter.
In particular Jaeril seems to have caught the attention of a winter knight who has been unflinching and persistent in flirting with her. That she has scheduled a lunch picnic with him tomorrow is the source of great amusement for us despite her protests that she intends to slit his throat if he tries anything. It's sweet seeing her so flustered and full of protests about her potential fling.
For her part, Trillium notes that sometimes dating a man is different from dating women, and the two of them agree to discuss such matters tomorrow morning. Apparently the city is more elf-friendly than it was a decade ago when she was last here and she has even found a few people she remembers, though of course they do not remember her. She knows they will this time, though, and it is heartening to see her express this with such confidence.
Day 515
Kaide wakes before me and I open my eyes to find her sketching away at a map of the city and comparing it to her own memories. Apparently the streets themselves are part of some larger magical working that was once part of the city's functioning. The entire city being built to function as a magic circle of some kind is such a captivating idea, one I can see instantly as she shows me her drawings.
The islands here are only a quarter of what she remembers - the rest of the city was below the water of the lake. Some of the magic in the city's structure and even in the bridge's supports were to help this underwater exist and be accessible to the Osyr who could no longer live permanently beneath the waves. Magic to infuse the water with more oxygen than usual, to enforce the position of air pockets to allow people to surface and breathe, to prevent plant life from growing in inconvenient places.
I want her to see it again. And we have the pearl, whose least-used power would let the holder breathe water easily. She smiles at the thought. I'm sure we'll find ourselves down there before we leave.
In the meantime, she wants my help finishing a piece of magic she has been working on. A combination of wind, water, and motion would produce something she describes as a 'flying lens' though I have trouble understanding the vision until she has shown me the magic she needs. By early afternoon it is finished and together we can see from its perspective far above the city, detailing out the abandoned streets that ruin the ancient magic circle and the new human-made additions that mar it further.
Perhaps it is something to mention to Shelor - I imagine she is not much involved in city planning but can at least connect some pieces.
With the rest of the day Kaide retires and I head to the library intent on securing basic access for us. Instead, I find the interior presided over by a stern-looking dwarven woman who asks my field of interest and for how long I wish to remain in the library. 'History' is my best guess and she charges me an entrance fee before handing me ab lue crystal disc taken from an ancient-looking box. She gives me the barest explanation of the new library system: My permit will allow me into areas relevant to my studies and no further. If I have any affinity for ancient texts, I can demonstrate my abilities to gain access to the second floor which is full of 'untranslatable tomes'.
The library proper has changed little, save for a notable absence of people and the omnipresent pressure of the wards. They are both new and old - clearly ancient wards that have been woken like so much of the city following the storm. I'm certainly curious as to how a dwarven woman came to hold power over them. The wards themselves are intricate and well-made, too much even for me to really untangle. They let me access all the expected history texts and then lets me press into adjacent areas for permissibly related topics. It's very clever...the sort of thing I'd love to have created myself.
As I sit and examine the crystal token I poke Kaide awake to help. She recognizes it as the same sort of system that was in use in her time. The library used to be semi-conscious and selective about who it allowed to manage access to its knowledge. Archivists would undergo examination from the library to prove their ability to read, understand, and categorize knowledge as well as their studiousness and purity of intent. Archivists would gain access to a box like the one the dwarven woman had, which would then let them grant access to others for particular parts of the library. Kaide and I resolve to attempt an archivist exam when we are able to access the basement, for which I'm sure I will need Dedrafel's help.
Unfortunately my attempts to locate the young man are unsuccessful, with the other library employees bemoaning his long absence and unreliability. I finally find more answers from Mayfa, an elvish baker who says that she last saw him nearly four weeks ago but that he is likely underground and has collected the food baskets she leaves for him. This is such a fascinating comment that it leads us to having tea and rosemary parmesan cookies in the shop she keeps just outside the library.
Her baking is warm and delicious and so imbued with magic that it is an incredible treat. Over our tea she tells me that she dropped out of the Imperial Academy because she never managed to decouple her magic from her ingredients. Despite her comments about her humble abilities I note that she wears the knots of a senior master sage. She waves this off as a concession she made to the city in order to be able to take an apprentice and give him some standing.
Before I pry into this curious detail I ask after the state of the library and Dedrafel. Since the wards woke only seven people have gained access to the token boxes and Dedrafel was quite frustrated to not be one of them. I have the growing unease that we will find him at his wits' end in the midst of an archivist exam, having hopelessly overthought his answer for the full 37 days of his absence. In the meantime, Mayfa says that elves have been using a particular back door into the basement but that it will only allow entrance to those who are sworn, and that it is easier to bring in those who have served. If she knows who I am, she has been fastidious about not commenting on it. And when I comment that I have a family member who I would love her to meet in due time, she is very willing to not pry when it seems that perhaps Alder is part of the Shadow.
She graciously agrees to accompany Kaide and I tomorrow at around noon, and so conversation can turn back to this apprentice she cares for. He is one of those children born to human and elvish parents and is only 27, though he looks younger. He has styled himself Sean Baker, a curious name for an elf but normal for a human. His village was destroyed by beasts and when he buried his father he found his mother's grave conspicuously empty, despite his father's story that she had passed away already.
His magic, Mayfa says, is broad and not well controlled. He shows aptitude for the arcane, elemental, and even mysticism but can't focus it quite to a high degree. I so wish I had Alwen and Tira available to track down this Sean Baker and see what they make of him. I'm of half a mind to ask her to send word to me via Nishvalen when he returns from his journeyman's travels but fortunately she tells me he is currently in Ilac in the Golden Micro Empire. The town is just a short ways off our path towards the coast and perhaps a good point for a stopover. He has been given the task of setting up a shop and having his presence change the town in some way - precisely the sort of apprentice task I could imagine a kinder, gentler version of Magdalena giving. Nothing so ordinary as simply solving a mystery or writing a dissertation.
