8.2 Pastries are Important

General Summary

Day 77

Winter situates me in a corner room overlooking the gardens and a fountain. The others have rooms on the same floor, though not adjoining,  

Day 78

I wake up thinking about the passage of time. It has been a week since we left the Keep, and though I wasn’t naive enough to think that a ten day journey would actually be complete in ten days, I still feel like we are not as near to the Crystal Spires as I’d hoped. I expect Trael has made progress circling the surrounding lands for elves who need a home. I’m sure we are all racking up lists of people who need to be saved.   My thoughts are interrupted by Hella knocking and then sleepily entering to tell me that the servants are holding a guest for me. Apparently they chose to wake Hella to wake me, instead of doing so directly. Fortunately, she has realized that this means she can go look for pastries, and doesn’t seem too upset.   For once I try to let Bran rest, and Alder and I discuss what he’s learned from the inn employees. Remarkably, he has found that the locals have a Watchkeeper. Usually such a person would have been appointed by local aristocracy to watch over smaller settlements - very common in the Frontier. Their loyalty is first to their local lord or lady, and then to the Empress and her people (though technically everyone’s loyalty is to the Empress so this seems like a moot distinction to me). It’s a curious position, often filled by fledgling nobility before they are appointed to higher positions, but likewise with people who have served their time in grander positions and are retiring to a life of quiet governance. Either way, it is curious that there is a Watchkeeper here, and I wonder who appointed them or if they took the title for themselves (and with what motivation)?   The room that the inn employees have prepared for me in which to receive guests is...stately. The furniture has been pushed to the side and the walls draped in black fabric reminiscent of banners. A single chair sits at one end, like a throne. It feels like the Imperial Court has been recreated here, as best they can. I’m not interested in playing the noble. Summoning Bran, we rearrange the furniture into a more comfortable council arrangement. A table, which the servants set with food, and chairs. If I had maps and tactical diagrams, it would almost feel familiar!   The elves who arrive garner my attention in vastly different amounts. The man is in his mid 400-500’s and is entirely forgettable. He wears no badge associated with a house, which I take to mean that no one formally appointed him.   The woman, however, is startlingly young. Barely 100, I would think, and she wears robes that indicate her status being higher than I would expect for someone so young. On its own, this would be remarkable already. Seeing my own house crest affixed to her robes is another level entirely. She kneels when she sees me, and addresses me as her teacher’s teacher. I remember her, dimly, as Vaneili, a student of Thalien’s, and a scene plays in my mind the way it hasn’t in many weeks.    

At my manor, on a balcony overlooking my gardens. In the afternoon sun, drinking cool fruit juice with Thalien. It is a relaxed atmosphere. I say, “It’s alright, you found someone with talent, just not the talent you were seeking and not the level of aptitude you were looking for. That’s okay, it doesn’t mean she hasn’t served you well and it doesn’t mean you’ve failed as a teacher. It just means you haven’t found the person you’re looking for”   Thalien, “You say that but her gift is troubling. My concern is that if she’ll never spin consciously, she’ll continue to spin unaware. The things that she sees and does...she’s not a conscious actor. She doesn’t see the consequences of her decisions. When she receives portents, they’re so near-at-hand or certain...what I’m worried about is that she takes actions based on what she sees and those actions will have ripples but she can’t see the ripples,”   I nod, “So the important thing is that you instill in her all of the sense of responsibility that goes with her gift and that you teach her to make sound judgments about what to do with her foresight. I can’t see the future, but I can anticipate the consequences of my actions. You need to teach her that, to consider what she can’t see before she communicates what she has seen. And the other thing, her...prophecy….that across the wall lies something..,.? That day will come, and hers may be sooner than others. I’m afraid we may all be pressed against the wall someday and that day is getting ever closer. Prepare her for that too. She may be alone, she may need to navigate in a world we don’t know enough about, so give her the tools. Your last responsibilities as a teacher are to prepare her for leaving you, and that’s true of any teacher. Her time with you will just be shorter than you may have expected,”

It is my second, maybe third time telling someone that Thalien has died. I still feel I am not as gentle as I could be.   “Did he find the student he was seeking?” she asks, and I look at Bran. With all the gentleness and wisdom I would expect from him, he beckons her to take a walk with him while the rest of us speak.   The Watchkeeper, Nishvalen, took up the title because it was needed, and I believe him. He has been here for over 40 years, having come through the Barrier after setting out to examine some ruins that were being threatened by the Collective. He and his assistants ran for months from the Collective before being pressed through the Barrier.   He is a scholar, and I can see that were he in ink-spotted clothes holding a book, he would be more memorable than he is now. When he heard of Deldrin, it matched some records he knew about from before the Exile, and he settled down. On behalf of all elves here, he maintains a pact with the Council of Nine to serve as an elvish guide and translator for the things they find in the library and ruins, as well as sending elves as guards or constables for certain events. In exchange, the elves have the right to self-governance, and the portion of the city known as Elftown. No elves have sought a Council seat yet, but the time will come when the right person comes along and they are ready to take a larger presence in the city. It will not be me, and Nishvalen seems blessedly aware of this.   They have a Charter, he tells me, that outlines the laws of Elftown and the secrecy from humans. It is harder now, as some humans are learning elvish and thus trying to understand the ancient runes for themselves, but at least the writing is archaic and difficult to read.   Vaneili has been here for 20 years, and she came because of visions telling her to seek a place of power and prepare for the return. I hope Thalien prepared her well. It certainly seems like he has.   Nishvalen also tells me more about the elvish library here. Gesturing at my arm, he tells me that there are also artefacts with that script, but they are newer than the ancient elvish ones. The Elvish is between 1500-2000 years old, while the other glyphs are 1100-1200 years. This makes sense - the Osyr must have joined with the Elvish Empire at some point, but both races would predate the creation of the Empire itself.   Beneath the library are places of deeper magic, oft guarded by complex magical wards that rebuff any who attempt to bypass them. Nishvalen has warned human wizards and mystics that none will be able to pass, but every so often one will try and fail (and die because of it). The elvish wizards and mystics, in private, understand that the city’s magic is slumbering, like a lake building behind a dam that will eventually power a water wheel. None of them managed to bring down the dam, or determine what exactly is the water wheel. Inevitably, this is going to be my job, I take it.   He tells me that labels from home often fade here, and that people who once would have been enemies are now friends, or at least civil with one another. He mentions that they have “buried many hatchets”, which is a dwarvish expression.   He offers me a tour of Elftown, which I happily accept. I’m eager to see happy elves.   When I go to retrieve Bran and Vaneili, I find them sitting by a fountain, drinking, and speaking about Thalien. I join Bran on the ground and he pours me a drink as I lean in and talk - about Thalien training Vaneili, about how hard he was on Bran, about Vaneili’s fear that she failed Thalien by not being what he was looking for, and even not seeking him out when she crossed the Barrier. She is in tears as we continue speaking and begs me not to force her to leave my house now that her teacher is gone. She has fallen onto her knees and pressed her forehead to the ground, which makes it very easy to pick her up and fold her into a hug with Bran encircling us.   She has done exactly what needed to be done, and Thalien would be so proud of her for that. In his stead, I am proud, and I am proud to have her in my house. It seems that all of Thalien’s students feel the overwhelming pressure to fill his exact role at my side even when no single person could ever replace another. She sits here on a council of elves and can be my voice when I need it. Bran stays with me and is himself, which is exactly what is needed. I hope Alwen and Tira aren’t having crises about their actions without me…   As we collect ourselves and prepare to rejoin the others, Vaneili tentatively asks if she might be taught how to visit the dreaming and speak with Thalien there. Of course I agree. Perhaps tonight, or in the coming days. For now, she and Bran will explore the trades district and the rest of us will tour Elftown. When Bran helps her up from the ground, for a moment, it feels like he is Thalien helping up his student.   On our way to Elftown, I notice a few things about the city. First, many of the statues have been maintained a little bit. I hadn’t noticed it before but they also have some dormant motion and transmutation magic, along with some that I don’t entirely recognize. Along the streets I see people sitting at tables, playing games and doing puzzles.   Finally we reach a gate that divides Elftown from the rest of the city. In elvish, the inscription reads “In this place ,we create shade for each other until the Empress’ shadow again falls on the land”   Nishvalen tells me that they refer to the enclave as the Twilight Garden. I can’t believe he let me refer to it as “elftown” for so long before telling me this. When we cross the threshold, illusory magic fades away and I can see a place that looks elvish. We might as well be home, not in the Capital, but in a town or city. The gardens are vertical and climb up the buildings, and there are working fountains. There are elvish children playing and laughing in the street. It strikes me that they would have been born here, and wouldn’t know anything different from this world. They wouldn’t remember the war or the fear of crossing the Barrier, or even the quiet hope that we would return.   Instead of making myself known, we spend the day incognito and simply...enjoying ourselves. The food is excellent, and the entire enclave is charming. I see no signs of wealth, but also no abject poverty. There are around 300 elves in this small area and they all seem to know one another - bartering is as common as money exchanging hands and it is even more communal than I would expect.   As we dine, an elven man in his mid 300’s approaches us with his apprentice in tow. He introduces himself as Yson and asks, cordially, about my pursuits in the city before asking if our apprentices could duel as a training exercise. A small crowd forms to watch and place bets, and Alder bets on Hella, of course. The ensuing duel is remarkably similar to my own days in the Academy. Hella has had far more combat experience than theory exercises and while her form isn’t as stellar as the other apprentice, she wins handily, though the other apprentice’s use of illusion and deception magic is impressive.   Afterwards, Yson offers to show me his personal library, which of course I accept. As we walk, he remarks at how it seems no lords and ladies have made their way across the Barrier, or at least, none have made themselves known. The way he says this makes me feel like he knows I’m not just another travelling military wizard, but I didn’t expect to stay hidden here anyway.   His small library contains books about all sorts of topics - dwarven stone shaping, human gods, even a small book about fae. He tells me about how time is an integral part of fae magic, and that the same spell would be written differently for each season. He also tells me of the Grove, which fae refer to the same way we refer to the Empress. Again, I’m humbled at the idea that our people thought to burn something like that down. As a gift, he gives me a copy of an ancient book from the library.