Day 419
When I wake to the smell of cooking boar bacon my letterbox is still empty save for a brief update from Andstella. She, Tira, and Haze are heading North to collect fruit from our tree. I don't know if it will help but I send back notes on the magic Sienin taught me to grow trees further. Even if it can't be used on our tree's fruit, I'm sure it will be useful in Dreamfall.
I had been hoping that either Amytri or Magdalena would return to me with more information. Magdalena's letter in particular worries me in so many ways. The thought of two Undying fae hunting us does not fill me with confidence, but her determination to keep him safe inspires a lot of curiosity. In just a few lines she has conveyed such a strong sense of care but described it strictly as a debt; something I think is probably an underwhelming way of describing whatever these siblings share. Whatever feeling is lurking there is something I want her to be able to feel more of.
At the same time, the instruction to keep him safe at all costs is troubling. We find ourselves tied together in looking after one another's family. I hope that she does not rush back from her mission, just like I will not abandon Jerun to continue chasing Thalien. I am full of trust and I am determined to stay that way regardless of Kaide's somewhat pained words about our teacher.
And for Jerun himself I am filled with righteous fury. The pain in his voice last night as he recalled needing his mother, the growing unkindness in my own heart to think of a mother who let her children destroy one another rather than intervene, and Magdalena's comment that Jaedien had to die in order for the Pruning to succeed all narrow themselves down to a single point: She let him go. I have to imagine that there are pieces here I cannot possibly understand from my current position. I know all too well that sometimes you need to sacrifice a precious piece of your heart to ensure the rest of it is not destroyed forever.
Amytri and I once spoke of faith and how so many humans shut themselves off from any sort of curiosity or reason in the pursuit of blind faith to an ideal. I spoke lovingly of the Empress and how any faith in her was supported time and time again by shade, strength, and her love. Here, too, I hope I find that my waning fae faith in the Heart of Song can be supported. I want more for my new people than a mother who wasn't able to care for herself or let others care for her. Both are hard tasks; ones that any Immortal really ought to have figured out before they needed it.
Maybe the book of heart magic will have something to say about that. It has been tucked safely into my extra-dimensional space since Magdalena gave it to me. I didn't know quite what I was waiting for aside from the time and space to really devote my thoughts to it entirely. Now I think I must be waiting for the grotto - it feels like the right place to learn her magic.
When I finally rouse myself I find Kaide and Sienin chatting about magic while Jerun leans peacefully against a tree, gazing at the sky. He looks far more peaceful than he must feel and I leave him to his thoughts as I greet the others. Kaide unwraps the pieces of wyvern horn she has been steadily carving and shows me her finished pieces: A bracelet in the form of a wyvern in flight and four talon-like rings. She bids me to give them each some energy and I laugh as the rings transform into enormous fiery claws that nearly slash through the air for me. And from the bracelet leaps a tiny wyvern made of flame itself that grows larger and larger as its wings take it higher into the sky. As it dives back, it is 3 metres from wingtip to wingtip and looks ferocious.
They are meant to keep me safe as a last resort if Kaide isn't able to come to my aid. It's a timely gift and I say as much, recounting the letter from Magdalena. We resolve to keep some of Kaide's ten hours of wakefulness in reserve going forward. My hope is that we can make it to the grotto easily and be safe there to tell Jerun as much as I know of his life. Something about the grotto feels like it will be safe from outside dangers and particularly from the two Treeborn. They didn't seem like people who a barrier of life and creation would allow to pass.
In the meantime, Jerun has told his mother that he will be coming with us to the grotto and she looks delighted, even going so far as to make some cheeky comments about her son finally chasing after a beautiful woman. It's hard to contain both my mirth and discomfort at this. I don't think I will ever get used to the idea that some might think it perfectly normal for a 7 year-old fae and a five century-old elf to be romantically inclined. Thankfully Jerun waves this off and we are able to depart without any issues.
As we travel he asks questions, trying to stay in happy territory. I tell him about my family's orchard and how much I love the oranges and citrus there. In turn he tells me of a tiny citrus fruit that trolls cultivate - one which you have to squeeze to produce little beads of juice that burst with flavour. He also tells me about a particular water flower whose roots can be consumed as a de-stressing drug for people experiencing tension. I certainly wouldn't mind trying that, though I imagine it is not a good thing to rely on.
I also tell him the story of how I became fae. I think it must be the first time I've told the entire story to someone who isn't family. Not just that I slept and woke like this but that I found a tree that I wanted to understand and my first thought was to offer it my blood. From my perspective it still feels like a rational thing to have done and I tell him about Kadia's forest as well and the elvish cultural notion of sharing heartsblood. He remarks that it must have been quite a strange Grove tree to accept a blood sacrifice by turning me into fae. But of course it is a strange tree; it is the first of its kind and it was crafted by Magdalena herself.
My perspective is shaped by my knowledge of blood magic (from Magdalena) and my knowledge of what the trees are and how they behave (also from Magdalena). He has a very good point; I wonder if any tree she creates will contain some of her symbiotic nature. I have a hard time imagining that any of the Seasons trees would have responded the same way, or even the Celestial trees. Likewise, any trees of Day and Night borne from this first fruit probably wouldn't respond the same way either. For a moment I'm struck by the possibility that more elves could be like me too if only they could go to the original tree! And just as quickly I file the idea away in the back of my mental filing system - something to consider after Thalien is back and the war is over, etc.
Jerun shares his own thoughts about his magic as well - others have repeatedly told him that they can sense some sort of warm, golden magic in him that he has never woken with the power to access. He has never been a mystic or a wizard but it feels like every time he sleeps he gets a little closer to it. When he remarks that maybe there's some sort of sleep magic that could bring him closer I nod seriously and start tracing runes in my mind that might help. I think a combination of sleep, dreams, and a fragment of that magic Magdalena showed Camellia about the power to choose what you are might fit together... Jerun is a little surprised that I've taken the remark so genuinely but laughs and agrees hen I tell him he has made a very useful friend for this particular matter.
I return to the Grove because I have to, not because it calls to me. You understand this - there's something about being different that we share.
Our first day of travel ends with Jerun cooking as I tell stories of the elvish cities across the Barrier. When we all sit down to eat, both he and Kadia are rapt as I describe the first camp of the Empire as ancient elves crossed the mountains, the sprawling Frontier full of farms and little villages, the Capital and its endless gardens. The stars are bursting in the sky when I finally take out my instrument and conjure a ghostly accompanist with a breathy flute to play with me as I transform my elvish story into a fae song. It is my first attempt at singing a song for my own experiences and it's not entirely there yet - a few passages where I can't fit it together just right and the music hums beneath me as I speak in rhythm, a couple places where the melody finds me and drags words out of me. It's a good first try and certainly the right audience for it.
Long after both Jerun and Kaide have retired, I sit up with the fire and my letterbox, reading and responding to a few that have arrived over the day. Tira with her stiff formality makes me smile and sneak a small enchantment into my response. The glitter will disappear in a couple hours but I can't let her get away with signing as my 'eternal apprentice' without some chiding.
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