29.2 The Magic of All of Us

Day 450

I've spent the last several hours corresponding as we fly before a golden crow glides in towards us and and alights upon my shoulder. Despite there being an entire dragonback available for landing. She directs us in towards Amytri's tower and we push our way through the crowd around it. There's an angry chant that I hear weaving through them, channelling the energy of the crowd. The young man at the head looks like some youngster dressed up as a wizard - robes, crystal-topped staff, pointed hat. He's babbling about the will of the people being done and I roll my eyes as I strum my instrument, disrupting the rhythmic power of the chant. It breaks as we slip in through the doors, passing by Stella and the guards.   Inside, Amytri is furiously writing in his journal and waves as we enter. His poor throat hasn't healed enough to speak strongly so I push more healing into him and share blood so that we can speak in our minds. Not much has changed from his perspective since we left but it is good to be able to tell him what else we've faced and processed since we were last here...a day ago. Torrick wakes as well and I can finally introduce our two kinglings, making Amytri pass over a letter bird so they can stay in contact. Poor Torrick is anxious about Nina but we assure him that she's been sent to Dreamfall, which is the place I am most confident is safe.   I can finally introduce Yneir as well. She's still infuriating, still bright and golden and frustrating. This time I can't shake the image of her carrying Vaneilli to safety and my frustration is tempered, even as she strokes Bran's forehead like he's hers. She shares everything she knows about our current situation:   There are too many fateful people gathered here for her to clearly see any future paths from this point. There are four weavers she can see around us - her, Bran, Drakken, and some unidentified fourth one she can't quite place. My heart clenches - that unknown fourth might be one of Magdalena's siblings...until Yneir describes what she can feel of them. She knows that if Bran hadn't gotten here soon enough then one of the other weavers would have shown up here - Drakken.  

The fourth weaver...they feel more like the dream of a person than a person themself. They're an umbrella in the storm keeping things from being pulled in.

  That is Thalien, no doubt in my mind. In this working, Yneir feels Drakken's hands all over it, to no surprise. She knows that if Bran hadn't gotten here soon enough then Drakken would have made himself known. In other futures she saw prior to this day she has seen herself marrying Bran after he lost Vaneilli in this series of attacks. He doesn't recover his heart, but he does marry her. Today, though, she saved Vaneilli and that future had to rewrite itself.   With all of us gathered here now, Drakken will stay away. Otherwise he would have arrived to declare himself Amytri's heir, quell the riot, pacify the people, and take over Solace. This shining, mechanical city would have been lost to us and that would be a blow to the ultimate future we are working towards. Regardless, Drakken is behaving differently than he used to. He's moving for new reasons...unclear ones.   Still, immediate decisions still need to be made: Onyx will take Lyssa, Puddle, and Torrick back to Drognar to re-establish communication and aid Caravel. It's unlikely that just the absence of Lyssa and Onyx would be enough to let Drakken find purchase here. Just as they leave my letterbox chirps with a letter from Magdalena.  

I can't come but others can.

  The attached parchment holds the most complex blood magic I have seen and I instantly call out Kaide to help me. She can't cast it; it has to be me. But together we are faster at deciphering the meaning and how to call on it. Yneir can help too, offering her strength because she is blind and can't do anything else but destroy.   I inscribe a circle on Amytri's stone floor in my own blood (it's always consumed in the casting) and speak the runes aloud. The blood coalesces into a living tear in the air that feels like life itself before it rips open with a blinding flash. The fae man who appears before us is...red. Dark red hair tied back in an elaborate ponytail, crimson eyes, red wings edged in black. But more than the redness I see his clothing! He wears an Imperial uniform that I've seen in the blood memories of the Imperial exodus across the Barrier. He's a general...but with an extra pleat where a general should only have three. The marking of his legion is in fae, not elvish: Host of the Fallen.   I'm laughing and crying with blood dripping from my hands as he opens his arms and calls me in for a hug: Myrtaceae the Red Mist, or Uncle Red, or Grandmaster Red for me. I can see traces of Magdalena's elvish guise in her fae face, but I can't see the resemblance between this ageless fae and the wrinkled Master I met as a child before he said goodbye and vanished. The thing I do recognize is his flute. He taught her spirit-calling magic just like Magdalena taught me about blood. And in this I feel a seed of a thought, that maybe Mistress would become a beloved winged Treeborn student as well...that maybe I wouldn't lose her as quickly as I fear. It is the first time I've thought about that inevitable pain in a while. I still don't have the heart space for it, even now. Just like my heartsong shatters when I conjure Lyssa, I know that if I give into this thought my active skirmish with Drakken will fold. I set it aside.   I turn to Uncle with the immediate thoughts of that skirmish. He says nothing about the magic used on the summer fae, turning immediately to a solution instead. What Magdalena does for trees, he does for fae. She must have sent for him because she expected him to be able to save the songs but he would prefer not to, and I feel the same way. It is a very Magdalena solution but so long as Ipthina's Grove sap mixture works and we can keep the summer fae safe in the meantime, we will hopefully have more time to figure out how to untangle this curse. Uncle says we'll need to move them farther from the trees as their time approaches but he cannot go near them. I've seen the seasonal fae's reactions to Magdalena and he says they feel an even more visceral generational fear of him (myself and the Celestials excluded, apparently). Perhaps Andstella will be immune as well for being part of Magdalena's family.   The scroll fragment has not left my mind - it does not escape me that neither Treeborn has given me an answer and that for Magdalena to actually have sent Uncle almost certainly means that there is another sibling (or higher power) on the board. I do not think she would have sent him if it were just Drakken.   But for now, this is enough of a plan for us to turn back to the other places I'm worried about. The site of New Whitewater is a place that is familiar to Uncle as an Imperial outpost and he is confident that if the walls still stand then the wards will be strong as well. Still, he summons and dispatches a dozen shadowy elves and fae with his flute. Their essence is ethereal and ancient and I now understand the name of his legion.   Two more shades are sent to Lone Mountain Keep to re-establish communication with Zadiyah and Rosalia. He knows of the Forest of Nightmares as well, and is pleased to hear that the sorceress who sacrificed herself is still alive and well (and adventuring again). The two he sends this time appear elvish until one shifts into a dragon and they phase through the wall as they depart.   And then to Drognar he sends fae skirmishers. I write to Caravel, Lyssa, and Torrick with an explanation before letting the fear bleed out of my mind. With reinforcements and communications en route, I can have a moment of rest. It comes in the form of a trip into the Dreaming...but it still counts.   I call for Thalien first and of course he doesn't appear. I don't expect him to.   Bran, next. He does appear but he feels even more ethereal here than Thalien does. It's horrifying, for a living man to feel like this. But there is only so much I can do; time and repeated energy will heal him; I can't force it to happen faster. With an infusion of magic though, I can get him to open his eyes and speak to me. They were moving through the hills on the way back from New Whitewater and every path was so full of ambushes and danger that he thought he had managed to find the only safe one. I can feel the guilt rolling off of him and sweep it aside - everyone in his travelling party is safe. He did choose the safest route and that is the proof. I promise to tell Nina that whatever happened was not her fault - he warns me that she needs to hear it and hear it soon. And before he fades back to sleep he conjures a golden bead of luck and presses it into me before slipping into unconsciousness again.   Finally, I go looking for Nal and find her easily, collapsing into her shoulder with relief. I had been meaning to introduce her to Kaide and Andstella as soon as we were able to return to Dreamfall. I wanted to show her my Grove and my cottage and my Ziggurat and I feel like such a fool now for calling on her just for the strategic communication about the Celestial Grove. I don't want this to be our relationship, just like I don't want the Grotto to be a place I send wounded people to recover regardless of the risk. Nal is as understanding as I could ever hope for her to be. She tells me that they will shelter Renelli if she needs it and chooses to join them. The red fae who led her to safety was Niceae, a name I save away to thank later. And she tells me about Wen, who trembles even in her sleep because she knows that she is responsible in part for whatever danger is storming the land. I'm curious to see that the trees sent her to the Celestials...but Nal tells me she doesn't know when the Grove will be ready to let her go, nor will the Celestials shelter her if Drakken comes for her. I feel a pang of urgency at this - the responsibility to make sure he doesn't get to her - but it melts away easily and I'm not sorry to see it go.   Next time, I promise Nal, I will bring my sisters and we can see the stars above my Grove.   And then I've faded out of the Dreaming and into a real sleep. It is only a few hours but it makes a difference and I wake after the sun has set feeling better than before. My letterbox is full again:  

• Lyssa: We have arrived and Torrick has things well in hand. Caravel is badly hurt. As soon as we can, Onyx wants to take him North to the Grotto.
• Heiassa: No, bring him to me in Solace. Things up North are just settling down.

• Dawn: I miss you lots! These other fae are annoying. I've managed but I've made promises we will need to deal with later.
• Heiassa: Well done! Thank you. Tell me these promises.

• Wayin: For anyone who needs them. Come visit soon! I miss you. (Enclosed are 7 vials of potions for energy, health, protection against toxins and curses)

• Gedrin: Heiassa! It's been too long!

• Mystery: I'm fine. I'm annoyed! These people are awfully persistent - do you know them? It's enough to make me want to hunt them down. (Enclosed is a bloody emblem that matches the one from the mage who attacked Lyssa)
• Heiassa: How many of these have you dealt with? We have been fielding attacks on all fronts but things have calmed down enough to be manageable. You can get rid of them if they appear but don't go after them - they'll lead to something bigger than you should take on alone.

Several of the vials are used immediately or forwarded to others. Bran, Amytri, Torrick, Nina, and Caravel.   Then, we leave Yneir guarding Amytri and Bran while Uncle and I go find Hella and Kadia and our prisoners. The one captured in Solace is dead - his mind collapsed from the wards protecting his knowledge when Kadia questioned him. I expect that we'll need to wait for Tira and I to dismantle such wards on our other prisoner but Uncle steps forward instead.  

I can make anyone sing.

  And he steps in with his knives as I guide Hella out of the room to wait in the hallway. Kadia is startled enough at the appearance of the "Imperial Advisor" that she remembers and so the explanation makes the time pass quickly over the screams from inside the room. When Uncle emerges he looks disgusted - the man was a loyal pawn who did very little aside from obey. He prided himself on being one of seven of his master's best tools. Alistair: The first servant. It doesn't matter anymore.   My nap sustains me throughout a late evening of food and conversation. Uncle cooks a full Elvish meal using ingredients he collected as soon as Magdalena told him he would be called away. From his bag he shares oranges from my own villa, orange blossoms, spices, and my family's marmalade. In the flurry of activity and military planning we had not paused enough for him to share that he'd come from the Capital directly. He spoke with Alwen and with my birth family; he has information about the war.    

Your Mistress is a terror. She's learning things I wouldn't have taught her.

    She is forcing into the Collective's heartlands and making them chase her. It's working, and she is staying ahead of them. Doraal is in the Capital recuperating from injuries. Not only has he been blinded but his eyes have been filled with light. My own eyes leak with pride and anguish to hear these things. Thoughts of home become harder and harder to sequester as we continue to speak.   Eventually we turn to fragments of other history over dinner, and that is somehow easier.   Fae of Leaf and Vine, Elves, and the Empire. The first fae of leaf and vine were lost in the Pruning and they were the first fae that Magdalena managed to bring back in their original form. When a nearby volcano erupted near their Grove, Magdalena was gravely wounded trying to save both fae and trees. Asphodeloideae nursed her back to health in the Grotto and Myrtaceae took over watching the fae of leaf and vine. He helped them with the magic that severed themselves from the trees and has watched over us ever since.   He knew Kaide when she was becoming an Empress. From the way he smiles and speaks to her, it is clear that whatever she did for Magdalena to be so furious, he thinks otherwise. His warmth to her would make me love him even if he hadn't already shown himself to be family.  

Being an elf suits you. You've earned your place there a dozen times over, and now you've done what your other half hasn't been able to bring herself to do.

  Adjudicators. He has little to say about them aside from being brokers of magical power with silly names. He laughs at "Zeesoo" and tells me of one he met named "Fufoo".   The Kindred. I show him the emblem of the people chasing Mystery and Void by habit. It's something I'm trying to solve. He is someone who might know something. I'm lucky - he has far more information than I might have expected. The emblem is of the Divine Sword of Order and they date back to the earliest days of the Kindred. They believe the Kindred to be abominations and are using leftover ancient magic to hunt them down.   For the first time I see what Kindred actually are - enormous elves with draconic wings like Void, coloured like dragons in their clan. I can see some scaled and others with markings like scales on their skin. Some have talons...some don't. They're a mix of elves and dragons and I can see where they came from, which Uncle confirms. Avan'Nal was abandoned when the Kindred were realized. Some elves became Kindred and left for the mountains while others stayed behind and moved closer to the Northern Grove. The city I remember living in was full of elves whose ancestors once lived in Avan'Nal.   Some say that elves who became Kindred were the ones who missed the sky, while the ones who stayed missed the Trees. Uncle remembers the reality as more complicated than that. The magic of the transformation was risky and dangerous - less than half of those who attempted it became Kindred and still others died. The Kindred became something like the Osyr in their lifespan and power, but they were no longer elves. Uncle doesn't consider them his responsibility.   If I piece together the fragments of this story, I know that No Moon drove off the Zephyr long before Kaide was even born. It was his gift to the Kindred and it killed him. These threads connecting fae, elves, and dragons together shine against the otherwise empty expanse of ancient history in my mind. I can almost feel No Moon's heartbeat resounding in the secret storage space in my own heart.   Mystery. The conversation about the Divine Sword of Order is rich and heavy, but eventually we come back to the reason I asked.  

You mean Trillium? She took the name Trillium because of you, you know. She called herself the flower of three petals

  Uncle has been lurking around the Empire in one form or another to keep watch. His style is so different from Magdalena's...he has one student at a time and doesn't intend to take another student until Mistress passes away (my heart tightens again and releases as he muses that perhaps the rules have changed since Magdalena has revealed her true form).   While he wasn't around to see her grow and develop, he clearly remembers her. I want her to have this treasure of a memory.   Heart Magic. Uncle asked to hear some of my song and of course I obliged. As we've spoken I've described the little family I have with Magdalena and Andstella, as well as my star-sister and the young song-son I have in Dreamfall. I tell him easily about Akhetla's journal which Magdalena sent me, but I can't tell him any more about her locked heart unless she gives leave.   He agrees to respecting her secrets but pointedly says that he will ask permission for us to talk more in the future and I hope Magdalena grants it. In this one particular magic I have no teacher. Uncle's attachment to his charges is so familiar. I think he would understand this magic alongside me.   Tree Planting. This last is a secret from all but me and Kaide. Uncle tells me that I'm becoming something similar to a Treeborn even if I'll never truly be like them (I have parents). Treeborn carry a seed that they use to plant a Grove from which new fae will be born. Many Treeborn planted their Groves but he and Magdalena have not. The two of them both feel that they alone are enough to do the work their powers give them and they wouldn't want their offspring fae to face the same sort of hatred and fear that they do.   If I one day am able to plant a Grove and choose to do so, he offers me the songs of elves and fae of leaf and vine that he has collected and keep safe.   I think back to telling Camellia how I'm a caretaker of the elven people and how I have never felt like motherhood was the right path for me. Now I have the fae of day and night, Liliales, Wayin. Motherhood doesn't feel so distant but still...not on the horizon. I already have two peoples to watch over and the world is too full of threats to establish a third. Maybe one day. Though by the time I'm ready, I don't know what I'll be...an elf-fae-dragon?