41.2 Pursuit of the Arts

General Summary

Day 671

Naturally, I head immediately into the Dreaming when I sleep. There are buffalo everywhere, unsurprisingly. But after a short while I’m surprised to find a group of handsome men, clearly not servants. They are mostly lounging about and practicing arts like calligraphy and flower arranging when they notice me. Some startle before one points out that I must be the ‘time fae’ and that I’m not dangerous.   Again, it is a pleasure to talk about my home and my cycle with interested people. I tell them (the royal harem) about elves as well, and how we generally form more equitable families.  

Do women also pursue the arts, then?

  And I know what I must do. I call forth my own instrument and several ears perk up as I invite them to play with me. I also send for both Thalien and Jaeril, if they are anywhere near sleep.   Thalien arrives first, with a young Osyr in tow. Both of them are carrying two swords, which they happily banish when I explain the water buffalos’ discomfort with weapons. Valdune seems surprised and delighted that I remember him, and now that I look at him closely I do recognize him from our time in the Crystal Spires. He seems happier now, at least, and the harem takes to him immediately.   And Jaeril arrives looking well rested and happy, and the three of us join the water buffalo men in music. Thalien sings old fae songs of starlike majesty and grandeur.   After several songs, Jaeril asks if I will come visit her Grove and I bid the gentlemen goodnight, promising Thalien that I will visit Nal when I have more stories to give her. We fly across the Dreaming to Samsara and alight upon the enormous stump where the tiniest sprig of new life is taking root - sprawling roots that wind across the stump and sink into it, almost comically disproportionate to the rest of the sapling. There are still songs here, clearly, and hope that the new tree will absorb them.   Jaeril is starting to remember having spent time with Magdalena in her past lives, too. They liked being together, just the two of them. She’s not sure if she will remember any of her other siblings, but this is enough for her.  

Tell Magdalena that I’m not ready yet, but soon we need to go on an adventure.

  She’ll stay here for the full decade of her cycle as Daylight, something that makes me both happy and very sad. I know that she is not meant to be Day and Night, and maybe I am not accustomed enough to cycling to know how to feel about someone moving on from a cycle where they found family. In the next ten years, she will still feel like my little sister. Beyond that, we will still have the memories…but will we still feel like that? I suppose I’ll sleep first, and be the one to find out.  

Day 672

In the daylight hours, Magdalena comes to find me with Liliales and, for the first time in decades, she is in her elven form. She wanted to speak with me before teaching Liliales to disguise himself this way, but it will likely become relevant for both of us if we continue West and run the risk of being mistaken for fae of the Red Thorn.   We are united in wanting to visit Temira’s Grove eventually, and so Magdalena tells us more about their cycle and culture. They spend 500 years awake and 50 years in sleep, living to be 5000 years old. Their 50 years of sleep are spent submerged in strictly the memories of their next cycle - wrath, agony, hatred, or despair. To endure 50 years of agony…it’s torture. Their trees are greedy and they lose no songs when someone dies during sleep, including the memory of collapsing to the torment of sleep. It is not unusual for fae to die during sleep.   Temira, Magdalena tells us, pulled beauty out of suffering. Poetry, battle anthems, creation, inspiration, amazement, enchantment, consolation - all of these were the complement to the pain and suffering her children experienced. She used to keep her fae well-disciplined and would tend to wounded fae until they had healed enough to leave the Grove without lashing out at others. From the story that Kalasha and her ladies told us of the slaughtered moths, Magdalena fears that something may have happened to Temira. We will have to visit, of course.   Liliales, who has been contemplating the emotional weight of these elvish disguises, says that she asked him to consider “Do I intend to make changes here?”   If we were further North, the answer would be yes. He would want to be a symbol of the Empire, and ambassador. But here, we are too far to be causing monumental change, and so maybe it is okay to hide his nature.   This, I think, is a very prudent line of thinking. But experience has taught me that it is not always enough to be responsible only for one’s intent. I pose a second question:  

Will things change because I’m here?

  Will my presence here, as the person that I am, shift the course of people’s fate? The answer, usually, is yes. And so it is important to me that we actively try to change as little as possible until we know we can do it skillfully. Others may be able to misrepresent us as Red Thorn and we have no way of knowing how that might change things.   For now, we will learn to disguise ourselves and be able to reveal ourselves only once we are assured we can represent ourselves truthfully and have the trust of the people we are with. The magic Magdalena teaches us works because of how similar elves and fae are, and I am curious if I could shift to being perceived as Kindred if I studied them more. Probably…but not yet.   Liliales makes a fine elf, shy of his second century and still as delicate and beautiful as he is in fae form. I am expecting myself to look just as I was before I became fae, but the only change is that my wings disappear. My hair remains coloured, my face is unlined. Magdalena notes that I am no longer 600 going on 1000, but 600 going on…forever. I am young again, relatively speaking. Though I personally think my hair went white due to shock and stress, not age.   To my absolute delight, I can also shift into a fully fae form and dart around as lightly as any other fae. Ausha, of course, snatches me out of the air just like she once did with Andstella, despite my protests.   In our elven forms, we are interrupted by a knock at the door - Riaq, one of the buffalo from the harem last night. He is distraught, and tells us that a Winged Tiger is trying to take away Collarin and that we are the only people he could think to call on for help.   The group of us rush to the audience chambers and find Collarin standing behind an unbroken line of her court ladies, all trying their best to stand strong against the dozen fierce men carrying weapons. The leader of the tigers is wearing what seems to be a buffalo pelt over his shoulder, in an enormous display of poor taste.   He boasts about his strength and position amongst the Winged Tigers, demanding that Collarin join him as the head of his harem and cut off the supply of their spirit medicine to any other tigers to bolster his supremacy. I can sense his bond with a wind spirit as he pushes against the line of water buffalo, causing them to falter and stumble backwards a little even as Collarin stands firm. She will not favour him over the others, and she presses at him to leave before there are consequences to his bluster.   Quietly, I slip into the line of other women and extend the endurance of iron throughout our defenses. They firm up and don’t stumble when the tiger lunges again. Then, from behind Collarin, Liliales emerges with his wings on display. I have to bite back a laugh as he drifts languidly over to Collarin and smiles at the Winged Tigers, projecting an aura of despair.  

Well well - is my visit being interrupted? Perhaps some music would make this more entertaining…yes…a funeral march?

  Two of the tigers are haloed in a deep purple aura - harmless light. But they flinch and look at their leader nervously. The big man has fear in his eyes, but he snarls at Liliales still, until my clever son sends some dreamlike illusions of terror towards him. In an instant, the resolve of the tigers is broken and they scramble backwards from the audience chamber.   Alone and safe again, Collarin remarks that they will be banned from receiving medicine from the buffalo for a year. When their stocks run out, he will surely be devoured by his uncles. She seems surprised to see Riaq present, and he seems just as shy and anxious around her as a child with a crush. It seems that fetching us wasn’t specifically prohibited, and so it must have been fine. He blushingly accepts when she invites him to join her in the garden to relax.   Despite the seemingly dire circumstances, I can sense that Kalasha is nearby, though not showing herself. I imagine that the passage of leadership is a slow process amongst these longer-lived folks. Collarin seems well able to take care of herself.