20.5 Part of your Inheritance
General Summary
Day 298-302
I continue organizing the camp as I have been in our time here, as well as supervising the education of many of our young mages.
The Blaze ghosts are invaluable in this time, as they can move quickly and warn others in case of attacks from creatures out of the storm. They have largely been responsible for patrolling the borders to our grove, vulnerable without the shield of an Eldritch forest.
Dawn has taken on the role of caretaker for the young ones, who all adore them. The Vanguard is especially enamoured, particularly Theaceae.
Our academic routine has come about mostly because of Alrudian's need for training which Caravel has delegated to me. She has the fundamentals of swordplay but she fights with a larger blade than I do, so her mornings are spent learning from the Blaze ghosts, Dawn, and Hella. In the afternoon we go over arcane theory together and progress into a combination of sword and magic in the evenings, experimenting with her power over entropy and how it interacts with her sword.
It's sweet to see how she looks at Hella. I'm a character out of her childhood stories but Hella is a youngster she can look up to and emulate. Hella and I have been working on her multi-tasking with sword and sorcery now that it's so effortless for her to wield magic alongside her blade. She and Alder have developed a fascinating way of moving in combat specifically to mess with Bran, who finds it harder to detect their method of using magic to propel themselves instead of telegraphing their movement with shifting of weight. I think he will be in for a much harder sparring match than usual when we join up again. So for now, Hella gets treated to the same sort of training I experienced with Mistress, Caravel, Vestil, and Uji. Mathematical formulations, swordfighting, quizzing, and simple magical exercises all at once - never as hard as I had it but still enough to force her to develop the same skills. And always laughter and tea afterwards.
She is coming into her own as a teaching assistant as well, taking the young ones out to fight ice wolves under her supervision.
Day 301
Magdalena and I spend a while together doing some urban planning. The Vanguard adore her, of course, but the BLaze ghosts are simply cordial and the fae of seasons actively flinch at her presence unless they work to avoid it. They know as well as any of us that she's able to save songs - the fear is primal, not intellectual.
Each evening she holds informal history lessons with the Vanguard to fill in the gaps in their memories. Andstella and I are almost always present for these though I tend to sit somewhat removed.
Her lessons and stories are artful but she doesn't spare feelings about the truth of the experiences. Some things were happy but some were sad. In every battle there was always both a winner and a loser. Sometimes we have memories from both sides of a conflict and the answer to who was right isn't always simple.
There is only one truth to all of this: They all died. Every single one of them died and that is why you have their songs. Tragedy is part of your inheritance. We carry the voices of ghosts. The only thing I can tell you is that you must be yourself and not a continuance of someone else. That is a particular form of madness that even I agreed to lock away.Just after this sobering statement I hear a haunting cry from above followed by the sounds of reckless collisions through the canopy as a tree, a grove tree, a precious ancient but newly awakened tree is ripped in half and sent crashing towards the Ziggurat. It is followed closely by the living corpse of a dragon the size of Haze, crimson scales encased in ice with gashes and shredded wings. It's something that shouldn't exist - a being of fire possessed by the magic of the ice storm that killed it. Instantly Magdalena is up and shepherding the young ones towards the Ziggurat for shelter, gesturing at Andstella and I to draw its attention. It stands between us and the entrance and rips through my conjured illusions with a single swipe, turning to face the two of us with no intelligence in its eyes. Andstella and I make a remarkable duo despite never having practiced together. She calls shooting stars raining down upon the living corpse as I engage it in closer quarters with Day Breaker. Truthfully it has been months since I was fighting something, having travelled to the Northern Grove, slept for a month, and then returned here to take up residence as a teacher and guide. The first hit from the dragon sends me tumbling backwards to land at Andstella's feet and I know I've been lax and foolish to be wandering around without my protective wards again. It's embarrassing for a moment before it is infuriating and I surge forwards again with the renewed strength of a blood bond with Andstella against the fury of its simultaneously icy and fiery breath. I see Andstella dodge it and feel it simply dissolve as it hits me, melting and snuffed out against the shadows that cling to me. As we continue engaging it Andstella strengthens me over and over, calling the portents of the stars into my eyes to guide me and sending down more stars across the dragon's failing body. On the edges of my vision I can see Magdalena holding up a ward around us to contain the battle even as she collects branches and fallen pieces of the grove trees. Some have fallen on the fae and the seasonal fae struggle to hack at the trees even to free themselves or each other, though the Vanguard are ruthless with the safety of Magdalena being here to save the songs. Each strike I make is faster and fiercer than the last as I feel fury coursing through me. When the enormous draconic corpse hits the forest floor and I immediately whip around to see how I can help Magdalena she nods me towards a tree that's fallen atop of Theaceae. They are remarkably unharmed, shielded entirely by Dawn, who is truly impaled upon a branch. I thank the Empress and Shakshakshafah for the sword I took from him as I pump healing light into them and Magdalena lifts the bloody tree off of their body. "I bled on the tree...can I be a fae now?" they ask weakly as I wrap them in a blanket. I can feel the magic of the fallen tree clinging to them and I don't know quite what that means but the answer isn't decidedly a no. I send them to sleep and continue tending to the other wounded as Andstella supports me. In the aftermath we have two fallen problems to deal with: The dragon and the tree. The fae of seasons have heard that a fallen tree ought to be left where it is for the grove to take care of, but none have memories of such a thing happening before. Magdalena thinks that we simply ask the grove what to do and offers two suggestions: Accept the tree as a gift and use the wood respectfully or try to graft it back to its trunk again. Between Crag, Kadia, and the three of us we might be able to make it work. I'm glad that Andstella makes this decision. Magdalena can save the songs from being lost and there is no need to risk lives just to save a tree whose songs will be preserved. We will accept the sacrifice the tree has had taken from it. I consult with Crag about the fallen dragon. Her scales are a deep red-black hue edged with bright yellow like dying coals. She was from a different clan and he recalls that her name is Ember and that she is about 800 years old but not much else. It's clear that she died in the storm and the ice shards tore her wings apart. Dragons hold that bones are sacred but nothing else. Magdalena tells me that in the days when some dragons had riders the scales and hides might be gifted to the family of the rider in the hopes of protecting them after the dragon had passed. Once I've rested I will help the body decay and then lay the bones to rest inside until we can return them to her clan.
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