Day 453
Shortly after our war council I receive Camellia's report out of Dreamfall. It details three waves of attackers, all dwarves.
- Assassins of the Twin Crescents, Twin Blades Hall. They cast the withering curse upon the summer fae.
- Elemental fire wizards of the Hellfire Destruction Hall. They captured some prisoners from this group but they had no useful information and no one in this wave seemed like someone who might have created the curse.
- Profane wizards of the Moonless Night Hall, re-animating the corpses of the fallen. Their magic felt in line with the curse.
The Blaze ghosts dealt with the second wave but after that point everyone retreated into the Ziggurat and the third wave struck deep in the grove itself. Miriam and Liliales fended them off well with illusion and enchantment but Miriam was slashed by one of the knives. Fortunately no damage was done to the trees - chalk it up to a cultural blind spot on the part of these dwarves.
I expect that these Moonless Night wizards are also responsible for the army of the dead who intercepted Bran's party. The path and magic align, so that is one mystery solved at least. Their name gives me pause but
Nina has arrived with Alrudian and Crag, but I instruct Tira and Haze to fly out and bring both Nina and Miriam to us in Solace. While Camellia has written that Miriam is alright, I don't trust those knives. Both of them will need more attention than they can get in Dreamfall.
Before they depart Haze tells me that members of his Clan will likely arrive soon after hearing news of his injury. Sandstorm's message, apparently, was communicated through earth-shattering roars passed along from dragon to dragon on the wind. To Haze's and my consternation the message was simply "Humans are hunting us," and he imagines that one of his Clan elders will be woken and attend to the issue. He promises to guide any incoming dragons to us for a meeting.
With all family members attending to various matters I find myself alone for a brief period. I had intended to speak with Amytri but Stella has wisely bundled him off to rest and so I visit Drakken alone.
He is as I expected - weak and huddled in a corner of the prison. Though he has been healed by now I can see extremely precise injuries all along his arms and neck, courtesy of Uncle. From what I can see he severed all 27 lines along which magic is directed within the body. Mystics and elementalists typically use these more than arcane mages but...to lose these would be crippling for anyone as magically powerful as Drakken (or myself...)
His energy itself is diminished and buzzing aimlessly within the shell of his body, presumably Uncle's doing. But there is something else too - a presence that ripped through his mind and ravaged the connections therein. Even Uncle's wounds are somewhat beyond what I could easily heal but I wouldn't even know where to begin with this other damage.
I needed to see it for myself but now that I've seen it, I am satisfied. He's not a threat, though I'm concerned that the Beast might skulk near my family again.
The rest of the evening is quiet and solitary for me. I spend time writing and collecting up notes and memories for Uncle to carry to Mistress. And I stay awake as long as I can bear to infuse a small garnet with magic that contains everything I am - long nights with books, the sacrifice of blood, quiet sunsets, lively music, and the new magic of life.
Day 454
I wake just before dawn in bed, having been put to sleep by Kaide. Lyssa is awake beside me and we easily pass out again before waking at a more reasonable hour for breakfast with Uncle.
He has commandeered a private sitting room and set out food for just the four of us, all homey and seasonal treats.
In the privacy of just this small family he tells me more about Mistress and the Collective. She has been rampaging through their territory slaughtering their armies and collecting their strength using her own spirit-calling magic. They have been knocked back past their own borders (my heart swells with pride) and she is supported with information from Vestil, who is still alive and at work deep in their heartland.
The work she's doing is work she has to do alone; no army can follow her or move as quickly. And it's working, so she must keep going. As proud as I am I recognize the physical and emotional danger of what she is doing, especially with Doraal's injury. I hope my letter and gifts can sustain her further.
What Uncle offers, though, cracks through layers of careful compartmentalization I have maintained much like the Barrier between our worlds.
If you could visit, would you want to?
I'm glad it's just the four of us. It is hard to admit that the answer might be no - I cannot be spared from my work on this side and I do not know if either of us have the fortitude for just a visit before parting again. I hadn't thought that I'd have her in my arms until I had largely settled matters here and had armies of allies to bring to her and our war.
And I had thought that if I really needed to, I could cross again. If Haze carried Tira and Shrouded Petrichor once carried Catena across the (then-new) Barrier then surely I could find my way across? But Uncle shakes his head at this, telling me that the Barrier was specifically created to stop someone like me from traversing it. I might be able to return to the Empire but it would weaken itself in other places to stop me from crossing back to human side.
So for this, Uncle tells me he might be able to negotiate with the Adjudicators to let me visit and then return. Responsibilities and timing allowing, it could be possible. I hardly dare to hope.
Things on this side have drifted into all manner of chaos. But you three are some of the best of what elves could be. I'm proud of all of you. And extra proud of you [Kaide].
And he vanishes easily and without hesitation. The three of us laugh that Lyssa and Kaide can both seemingly vanish into thin air as well but I have the indignity of having to physically fly myself away. Though after Kaide and I created our lightbeam anklets, it is still quite an exit if I so choose.
A knock at the door reveals Bran, largely mended and in good health and curious after what became of Yneir. For a moment I falter over whether it's right for me to tell the story but I conclude that for all she annoyed him (and me), he deserves to be briefed before he speaks with her. At the mention of trading fates he looks concerned - apparently this is something Thalien had seen done before and cautioned him never to pursue. Such blatant disregard for the natural pattern inevitably leads to tragic ends for those who meddle.
Poor Bran is a mess of emotions and I have very little advice for him beyond encouraging him to speak to her. She was instrumental in our success throughout this wave of attacks and I hope that with her fire changed and her fate magic dampened she will be a little easier to handle. We resolve to go visit together in turn, and he says perhaps they might journey to Deldrin together to see Vaneilli and then he'll be able to get to know Yneir better and keep an eye on her.
When we arrive outside her room and leave Bran behind and enter first, finding the formerly golden crow tucked in a blanket in the corner of a couch looking drawn but on the mend.
I wouldn't have minded if things ended that way.
She tells me that she might go home now that it seems she doesn't have a place anywhere. She can't hear anything calling her like she used to. She feels like a ghost. It's hard to resist the urge to remind her that most of us feel that lack of innate call all the time; I know it wouldn't be a comfort, just insult to injury. Instead I ask her about Bran and whether she was really in love with him or simply pulled by the current.
I saw my life with a Bran that had been horribly hurt. He blamed himself for being far away when Vaneilli died, for choosing to be near you and not her when you both needed him. We were together for a long time...it's harder and harder to see that future now - it's always harder to see fates that don't come to pass. He's a shining person, someone who could be an emperor in his own right! But he never wanted that, he just wants to make things and help people. In the visions I saw even though he was hurting he was always kind to everyone but himself and eventually he learned that too.
We were together for a long time. I fell in love with those visions of a good man and when I finally met him he was exactly as I thought. I know that what I fell in love with was a dream; it doesn't exist anymore. But he's the same person still.
Despite my best intentions...I really like her answer. I like the softness and quietness, the uncertainty, the willingness to leave. I recall her telling me that she left home because she could never be more than her gift there, never be Yneir instead of being the golden crow. What I see now is Yneir herself, and I like her a lot more than the crow.
I tell her this and she smiles a little. I had intended to ask if she would accompany me south to the Great River when I'm ready to go, but I don't want to sway her choice and if it's meant to be then I'm sure I'll run into her there regardless. It would be a good thing for her and Bran to figure out how to co-exist before she and I further our relationship. Certainly she'll stay here for a little while, at least. She wants to see Nina's wedding and I think that makes perfect sense.
It's Bran's turn to see her and I warn him ahead of time that I quite like her. As he enters the room I'm pulled away by Hella, who tells me that Haze has returned with the two youngsters aboard.
In the courtyard I find Nina unconscious but in good health. She is so overdrawn still that her hair is silvering but she has simply burned through her magic, not destroyed anything. More rest will be enough for her, though if I have the energy I'll speed up the process.
Miriam, though, is another story. I can't blame Camellia for her assessment; it's hard not to think of her still as a gifted healer but she is a warrior, not a mystic or mage. The wounds themselves do look physically contained, though terribly nasty. One winds down from her collarbone to her breastbone and another slashes across her back. The wounds are festering and wicked and have been magically segregated from the rest of her flesh. The necrosis won't continue into her body but the barrier doesn't prevent the magic from continuing to eat away at her energy. While I would normally bind us together so she could rely upon my strength, I am already tired and this magic could easily drain me as well. This venture will have to be done without that connection.
I whisk her quickly into a quiet room to prep for what will inevitably be magical surgery. She tells me, weakly, all about how she and Liliales were out alone with him leading off the dwarves as she protected the two of them. If Camellia hadn't found them in time she surely would have died.
The plan comes together over her sleeping form as I sink my dusk magic into her and send Hella and Tira off to collect helpers. I'm embarrassed to have reached for Nina before I thought of Bran as a sustaining source of healing magic...I've been apart from him for so long!
They return with Bran and a human man named Lorann - a talented surgeon with very weak magic of the Weaver. All of us settle into a circle (excluding Lorann, who need not be thrown off of his expertise by the experience of joining with people like us). Bran feeds sustaining magic into Miriam while Kaide and Lorann work to excise the necrotic flesh. Once the bulk of their work is done I let my own natural decaying magic trickle through the wound, guided by Bran's sense of fate.
It takes the entire day to excuse, decay, and regrow the flesh. When we are done there are thick strands of new pink scar tissue across her torso but she is breathing easier and any traces of that withering magic are gone. It's a relief for everyone but especially me. I can't imagine what Wayla would have done to me if her daughter had died.
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