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4th of Solstace, 126 year of the tree

A Wizard's Torment

by Luke Thomas

Dear Diary,
 
I am writing to you as a man who is severely under-slept, under-appreciated, and entirely out of patience with the laws of time and space.
 
The battle with the giant Behir in the past was a disaster from the opening breath. Dadroz loosed an arrow, and I hurled a *Fireball*, but the beast barely noticed. It answered with a torrent of crackling lightning that swept across the cavern, knocking Liliana flat. Before we could regroup, the monster dove into the churning, dark water, vanishing from our senses.
 
Gael, sharp as ever, spotted electricity sparking from the massive stalactites above and started chipping away at the arcane-infused stone with his arrows. Alistan took to the air on Galienne’s back, flying out over the water to flush the beast out, while I commanded a Water Elemental into the depths to help them search.
 
They found it, but far too late. The Behir lunged from the black water, its twisting torso wrapping around Alistan and Galienne. It constricted, preparing to bite Alistan clean in half.
 
Chaos erupted. Gael and Hayley teleported to a platform closer to the stalactite. Through the spray of the waterfall, Gael spotted something glittering—Liliana’s fey sword. The pristine, unbroken past version of the blade she would one day receive from Vivienne. Ileas moved to assist but was immediately zapped by stray lightning arcing between the stones.
 
Hayley threw a desperate *Vortex Warp*, tearing Alistan from the Behir's crushing grip. It saved his life, but a stray bolt of lightning caught him mid-air. He hit the stone platform unconscious, rolling dangerously close to the edge. Liliana didn't hesitate; she leaped across the raging water from her platform to his, forcing a healing potion down his throat.
 
The beast was moving at impossible speeds, charging the cavern with raw electricity. Gael relentlessly focused his fire on the stalactite until it finally shattered, neutralizing the ambient electric magic that was pinning us down. Then, my sister did what she does best: she escalated the situation. Hayley shifted into a giant crocodile, her massive jaws snapping at the Behir’s elongated body and forcing it to teleport to the other side of the cavern.
 
That was the distraction Liliana needed. She dove into the freezing, heavy currents to retrieve her past sword. Underwater, the Behir found itself cornered by Galienne. A copper dragon in her element is a terrifying thing. Galienne tore the Behir’s throat out, the dark water blooming violently red.
 
As the monster died, the storm inside the cavern instantly quieted. Liliana broke the surface, gasping for air, the pristine fey blade gripped tightly in her hand.
 
We dragged the carcass onto the rocks, hoping to cut some treasure out of its gullet, and took a short rest. As Liliana bonded with the new—or rather, old—blade, she whispered that the sword felt "young."
 
The magic responded to her. The wet rain in the cavern turned to biting snow. The water began to freeze solid. Liliana, recognizing the cavern from the dream Dynia had shown her, moved toward the now-frozen waterfall. Deep within the ice, perfectly preserved like a reflection, was Vivienne.
 
Liliana touched the ice, and glowing text blossomed across the surface.
I stepped closer, reading the arcane syntax. "It's a *Simulacrum* spell," I sighed, realizing exactly what this was. A contingency. A failsafe left behind just in case something happened to the Ice Queen.
 
I looked at my friends. "Are we absolutely sure we want her back?" I asked. The collective nod was my doom. "Fine. Get comfortable. This takes twelve hours."
 
They went to sleep. *They went to sleep.* I spent the entire freezing, miserable night awake in an ice cave in the distant past, painstakingly weaving a twelve-hour spell to resurrect a woman I spent the last five years considering an enemy. The life of a wizard is nothing but glamour.
 
When I finally spoke the final syllable, the ice rippled like a disturbed pond. The reflection moved on its own. Defying every law of physics, Vivienne walked straight out of the mirror.
 
The moment her boot touched the frozen water, reality snapped like a stretched rubber band. We were instantly pulled forward through the centuries, crashing back into the present-day throne room of Whitewail where we had just fought the Frost Giantess.
 
We were back in our own bodies. But Liliana was still sitting on the throne, trapped in a solid block of ice.
 
Before panic could set in, we noticed a mirror near the throne. Reflected inside it wasn't the frozen Liliana, but Vivienne, awake and watching us. I cast *Detect Magic*—illusion.
 
"Two options," I said, rubbing my temples. "Touch it or break it."
Hayley volunteered as tribute and touched the glass. The *Simulacrum* text appeared again. I almost cried from weariness, but Hayley, extracting the necessary knowledge from the spell matrix, took the burden this time.
 
When she finished, Vivienne opened the mirror from the inside like a door. She stepped into the throne room, walked up to Liliana’s frozen form, and placed a diamond against the ice.
 
Liliana gasped, her eyes flying open as the ice instantly melted away. She stumbled forward, looking at us with wide, strange eyes. "I missed you," she whispered. She told us it felt like it had been an eternity. And it had. She had spent the last several hundred years living *as* Vivienne. Two souls sharing one body, experiencing every moment of the Ice Queen's long, cold life. I can't even begin to wrap my head around the psychological toll of that.
 
Vivienne didn't linger on the sentiment. She told us Ulther knows she has switched sides. Whitewail is no longer an inside asset, but she can bring the full, overt power of the city to our cause. She vowed to pledge herself to Dynia.
 
I summoned my *Magnificent Mansion* door, which Dynia had re-linked to the Tower of Immerglade, and we stepped through.
 
The tower was unrecognizable. The somber quiet was gone, replaced by a bustling hive of fairies cleaning and preparing the castle. The aesthetics of the realm had shifted entirely to Spring. When we entered the throne room, Dynia was sitting in a gown of woven flowers and fresh leaves that seemed to grow directly out of the throne itself.
 
She was surprised to see us back so soon. When Vivienne and Liliana walked forward, Dynia’s eyes narrowed in question.
Liliana spoke for them both, offering Whitewail to the Queen. They knelt together—two rulers, one soul-bonded pair. Vivienne offered her sword to Dynia, the icy blade instantly shifting to match the vibrant, blooming aesthetic of Spring. She swore to take up her family's ancient oaths to Immerglade.
 
Dynia accepted, but under the same "special term" as before: Whitewail is allowed to secede from Immerglade if it is ever in the city's best interest. A pragmatic clause for a pragmatic Queen.
 
It is a massive victory. We just stole an entire city from High King Ulther's grasp. But Dynia warned us not to celebrate just yet. Ulther's agents are everywhere—the Frost Giantess was just one of them. We are expected now, and we will find his daggers hiding in every shadow.
 
The conversation drifted into philosophy—what we actually want to change about the Feywild once Ulther is gone. But philosophy doesn't win wars. We made a concrete plan: tomorrow, we reach out to Davozan. If we can bring him into the fold, Immerglade might actually stand a chance.
 
— Luke

Continue reading...

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    24th of Aran, Y126 Year of the Tree
  2. Trades and Punishments
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  3. Homecoming
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  4. The price of a ring
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by 3 Armored Kittens · Prodromos v.1.1 - World Anvil 0.9.15.050 © 2017-2025 [en] | Anvil Time: 20:06, Jul 28 2026