Of Magic and Mushrooms: The Study of Druidism

[Srennia Te'yessi]

Brightening 18 of Cryxatum

Era II of the Celestine Mandate
Era XIV Post Fractum

Srennia arrived promptly the next morning, her hair still soaked and cold from the frigid bath she’d subjected herself to that morning. She’d discovered a place beneath the tub to shovel coals and embers, but had underestimated the amount of time required for a tub full of water to heat. Unfortunately, her continuing cleaning endeavors had left her dirty and sweaty, and in an unacceptable state to attend her first class.

So now she sat, cold and wet, in front of her classroom. She had checked the small sheet of paper listing the room five times and was working on a sixth when her teacher walked up, yawning and clutching a mug of something sweet-smelling like a lifeline.

The woman was a vysstichi, tall, dark in skin and pale in hair, and her crimson eyes were half closed by sleep. Srennia, on the other hand, was short, pale in skin and dark in hair, and completely wide awake. ”Vendui!’ Srennia said, straightening. ”You must be Professor Satryack? I’m Srennia, I’m your new student.”

Satryack looked at her for a long slow moment, still obviously gripped by the strong arms of sleep. ”Yes,” she said eventually, shaking her head and then reaching for Srennia’s outstretched arm. ”Serale. Sorry, I am usually more… I am not one who finds the early brightening particularly favorable.” She lifted the steaming mug, her lips twitching. ”And I have not yet finished waking up, as it were.” The vysstichi woman pulled keys from her pocket and unlocked the door, taking a sip of her drink at the same time, the maneuver completed with a grace that was frankly remarkable given the Vysstichi’s apparent state of exhaustion.

The door swung open to reveal a greenhouse, floral scents rushing out in a burst of hot, humid air. Srennia followed her teacher in with more than a small amount of wonder, gazing about at the interesting place. Room 312 was not a classroom, not in the strictest sense, not so much as it was an indoor garden, complete with artificial pond, suspended plants and waist-level pots, lights strewn wildly around the place and flowers and greenery everywhere. The corridors between rows of pots and planters were narrow and one couldn’t much move without touching a plant. ”Here,” the teacher said, weaving her way through the maze of greenery without problem. She put down her mug with obvious reluctance and rolled out a long , thick blanket in the narrow corridor. ”You’d best lie down, this can be rough.”

”Aren’t you going to ask me why I decided to take Druidism first?” Srennia quipped, a little nervous despite herself as she lay down. For all that this was what she wanted, the path that she had chosen, to help her serve her Lord and lead a life that would lend respectability to her cause, all this talk of unbinding was unsettling. But nothing in life was easy, and though she was tense and anticipated what was to come with much the same attitude as a child at the Healers, this was her Path, her destiny, and she would not back down.

The vysstichi waved a hand. ”Everyone always has the same reasons, which all boil down to love of one thing or another, whether it be the wilderness, animals, or Carmelya. What matters is not the why, but the fact that you have. Close your eyes, and take a deep breath.”

Srennia tried to comply. The blanket was not thick enough to keep the floor from digging into her bones, and it was hard to keep still when she was this tense.

”I want you to clear your mind of all thought,” Tarissa said off-handly, as if she were telling Srennia to touch her nose or jump up and down. Srennia rather suspected she was concentrating more on her mug of morning brew. ”Take yourself to somewhere peaceful, somewhere you feel safe. Concentrate on that feeling of safety, and ignore all others. Hear the waves on the beach, the crash of the surf against the shore, feel the sand between your-“

Srennia’s attention to the litany was interrupted by sudden pain in her head, spreading like a flash fire, radiating down her spine and throwing her body into spasms. Then, just as soon as it had started, the physical screaming of her body died, replaced by indistinct yet seemingly important dreams. They were of Jorel and her debt to him, of that she had no doubt; she could feel his influence in a synesthesiac sense, taste his approval on her skin, smell the words he murmured to her, hear and feel the smile on his face as he spoke to her. Words and sounds lost distinct meaning, enveloped in a magically fueled dream of sensory confusion.

When she woke again, it was slowly, with two predominate feelings lingering: first, that something incredibly important had just happened if she could only remember it, and second, that her head felt like it had been kicked into sharp rocks by a particularly angry mule.

”Ahh! You’re awake, then!” her teacher said, her voice over loud, happier than was perhaps necessary. Srennia wondered if this was perhaps how others felt when they were in her company in the early hours of the brightening. It was a wonder no one had killed her, if that was so.



OOC: I'm pretty positive it's acceptable to simply self-mod this thread, but if I misread the Serenity Towers OOC note, please let me know and I will edit accordingly!

[Srennia Te'yessi]

”I suppose,” Srennia grumbled, forgetting herself for an instant in the increasingly obnoxious pounding of her head. ”Beg pardon,” she amended, wincing, ”I fear my head is somewhat...”

”Achy? Yes, that does tend to happen. However, you’ll be happy to know that it means your unbinding was successful!” Tarissa said, clapping her hands together and smiling. ”Can’t you feel it? The beauty of the world around you? The undeniable influence of Carmelya in all things?”

Srennia rubbed her temples, searching for this apparent influence. She didn’t feel it, she didn’t see it – perhaps the Mage was wrong, and she had not been unbound at all. ”I feel nothing but a ringing in my ears,” she admitted, looking to her instructor for some sign of hope that she was wrong, that perhaps she had been unbound.

Tarissa frowned, then her eyes widened. ”Oh!” she said, raising a dark hand to her mouth. ”Oh you poor thing! You’re one of those!” Those what, Srennia was about to ask, but Tarissa anticipated and answered. ”An Auditory! You don’t feel it, like I do – you hear it! Oh, that must be terribly annoying.”

”Hear it? You mean that buzzing-“

Is the ara and vis around you,” Tarissa confirmed. ”Oh dear, I’ve never taught an Auditory before. Rare enough that someone’s not a Visual, and hard enough to relate to, but an Auditory? Oh my.”

Srennia inhaled deeply. The pounding in her skull was dissipating somewhat, though the buzzing did not seem to be following. She was skeptical about this whole “Auditory” thing that seemed to be throwing her teacher into hysterics, but she was, theoretically, an expert. The elf closed her eyes, deepening her breaths, and listened.

It wasn’t a buzzing, really. More a low-level hum, and if Srennia paid close enough attention she could tell it was two-tone, and so full that it seemed to be both close and from a distance. If she moved her head just so, ducking her chin towards her chest, the lower pitch increased in volume. If she cupped her ears the higher pitch seemed stronger. ”Odd,” she said, and the far louder sound of her voice knocked her concentration. She opened her eyes. ”It sounds like humming.”

”To me, it feels like wind on my skin,” Tarissa confided. ”You’ll grow used to it eventually, but when you go into Clara, you will feel it again, and in 10 fold. I feel like I’m standing in a tornado when I meditate,” she said with a fond smile.

”What is Clara?”

”Well, if you’re no longer wincing against the pain in your head, it’s likely time for you to find out!” Tarissa pulled herself from her chair and sat crosslegged on the rug. ”Clara is a meditative state. In order to cast spells, you must be able to truly feel – or hear, I suppose – the magic, and in order to do that you must be in Clara! Have you ever meditated before?”

Srennia shook her head. She’d heard of meditation, of course, as an abstract notion practiced by distant liberals whose commune with nature and the world around them was considered perhaps a bit too close.

”It is rather difficult for the beginner,” Tarissa admitted, ”as it requires clearing your mind of all thought. Non magical meditation involves transporting one’s mental self to another place, a beach or a forest perhaps, like what I tried with you during your unbinding. If you can achieve it, the pain of the experience is lessened. But now that you are unbound, you will not focus on the seashore, but rather on the very world around you. Focus only on the wind – or in your case, the hum – and increase it, excluding all outside information until your very world is magic.” Tarissa straightened her back and closed her eyes. ”You will know once you have reached it. It is... unmistakable.”

Srennia quirked an eyebrow, but folded her legs up and closed her eyes. Exhaling, she sought out the noise, searching for the tones. They were there, as their presence had never truly faded. Stop thinking about other things, she thought, struggling to focus on the noise. Just the sound, just the sound. No other thoughts. Including this one. Stop thinking, Srennia! She pressed her lips together and tried again. The muscles in her back ached a little from keeping her rigidly upright.

”Perhaps if you lay down,” Tarissa suggested lightly. ”Some people find it easier to start with easing their breaths in and out, filling their lungs to capacity and then emptying them slowly, pausing at the moment of true emptiness, then searching out the magic. It tends to ease the connection between mind and body, allow yourself to truly separate.”

That sounds unpleasant, Srennia thought, but lay down. Breathe in, breathe out, slowly slowly slower. Breathe in, breathe out. In, Out, In, Out... soon, Srennia was feeling a little lightheaded, but also calmer, more focused. This time, when she reached out to the buzzing, it popped into focus, like one’s ears when descending great heights. Everything else faded to background noise, and then the two tones she had heard before seemed to split, the differences she never could have heard before seeming so incredibly different it was a wonder she hadn’t heard them before. They resonated through her mind, distant and far, above below and through her, dancing from the low note that seemed to be coming from her to the high pitch that seemed to surround her.

”Have you reached it?” Oddly, the voice of her teacher did not seem to disturb her, or overwhelm the noise of the world around her. It seemed distant and muted, audible yet ignorable if she chose.

”Yes,” Srennia murmured, and her own voice was distant too, lost among the rising and falling tones.

”Tell me what you fee- hear.”

”I hear many things,” she mumbled. How could she possibly describe it? It was constantly in motion, volume and pitch rising and falling in rythmns, sometimes clashing, sometimes melding, but always there. ”It’s beautiful,” she said finally. ”I – it’s like a symphony.”

”What do you sound like?”

”Low, loud, one note only – it’s pulsing, I think with my heart.”

”And me?”

It was strange, to stretch her hearing, to focus not on the wide varieties of noises around her but rather on just Tarissa, on the song that emanated from her. ”You’re... higher, slightly. Different sound. Like a flute, maybe, a low note on a flute. Not constant, but – do you have, like, a heart murmur, or something? What is that?”

Tarissa chuckled. ”And now? What do I sound like now?”

Something shifted and suddenly Tarissa was not a flute but a symphony, her noise mingling with the soprano strong instrument that seemed to exist in most of the room around her. The two noises mingled together, not playing the same note but two different melodies strung together. ”There’s – you’re pulling it in, molding them together.” The notes changed, then, and what was once two melodies became one, a collaboration that drew from both tunes to make a new one. Srennia was so startled by the shift that it knocked her concentration like nothing else had, and she refocused with a gasp, her eyes flying open, the ceiling spinning with the switch.

”The flute noise, that would be my vis, just as the resonant noise you hear yourself would be your own. Everyone and everything has their own vis, their own set of magic. The other noise you hear is likely a mix of the vis of the plants and things around us, and also ara. Ara is the magic of the world, in and around everything. Did you hear when I combined them?”

”Yes,” Srennia said. She was panting, and exhausted, and had no idea why. ”It was, it was so strange, I couldn’t concentrate on it anymore.”

”It’s difficult to maintain Clara for a long time, especially as an initiate. I am not surprised that it loosened your concentration,” Tarissa said. ”To cast a spell, you must combine the ara and the vis, and then shape it into a spell. Here,” she said, reaching for her bag and pulling out a small, worn brown book. ”Take this, read the first and second chapters this darkening. Unbinding is a tiring process, and it will be best, I feel, if we continue next brightening.”

Srennia took the book. Her hands were shaking, so she nodded. ”I feel like I could eat a herd of cabbits and sleep for three eras,” she admitted.

Tarissa grinned. ”Don’t eat too much, you’ll vomit,” she advised. ”And I will see you in the early brightening.”

[Srennia Te'yessi]

Brightenin 19 of Cryxatum
Era II of the Celestine Mandate
Era XIV Post Fractum

The brightening was a warm one already when Srennia showed up for her morning class. She was sweating in her tunic, and the previous nights sleep had been excellent but her fatigue lingered. The circles beneath her eyes were darkened, and the liveliness of her step was somewhat muted, but she was there and coherent and obviously not tired enough to forsake a lesson.

”Serale,” Tarissa mumbled, startling her. She unlocked the door, carefully balancing her steaming mug of tea in the other hand.

The heat of the greenhouse hit her again, despite the outside temperatures. Tarissa didn’t seem to notice, walking over to the small pond, guzzling the contents of her mug with rapid care. She took a seat cross-legged at the side of the pond, and Srennia followed. It was smaller than she recalled from yesterday, and quite shallow. The bottom was clearly visible, a dark stone that seemed to lack any cracks. Small golden fish darted around in the water, chasing each other through the potted lilies.

”Pretty, aren’t they?” Tarissa said, placing her now-empty cup beside her and looking much more awake already. ”Skittish, of course, but we’ll fix that. Most people start with Bark Skin, of course, but that’s a little dull so we’ll come back to it. You read last night’s chapters, correct? Yes, of course you did. Good. Well then, lay back, close your eyes and try to enter clara.”

Srennia blinked, then did as requested. Breathe in, breathe out, in and out… she thought, trying to force herself away from the part of her that wanted to take a nap. As her breathing slowed, she reached for the sound. The near continuous buzzing had become part of the background at some point during the night, but it was still raw enough to be easy to find. It was easier to slip into it this time, her muscles relaxing and her mind focusing more on magic than the outside world.

”Alright,” Tarissa murmured. ”I am going to impart this spell now that you’re relaxed.”

It was like being slammed with a wave of sound that made her teeth vibrate for all of three seconds before it was over and the spell was in her mind, and the discomfort was gone. ”Oh,” she said faintly, feeling a little dizzy with the suddenness of it all. ”Oh that’s… so I just, take the ara and mix it with the, with my vis?”

”And then inundate it with essence, yes,” Tarissa continued, ”that’s called channeling, by the way. Once it’s been given a direction, you shape it into the spell I just taught you. On one of these fish, please.”

The thought of the fish was, oddly, all that it took to knock Srennia’s concentration. The sounds died away to an eerie silence that confused her until she opened her eyes and realized what was going on.

”Don’t worry,” Tarissa said, her own eyes open, her posture relaxed. It was hard to tell whether she was in a meditative state or simply tranquil. ”That happens to most initiates. It gets easier to enter and maintain clara, after a while. Go ahead and relax again.”

She sighed and closed her eyes again, annoyed at her own lack of concentration. She was usually quite studious. In, out, in, out… there. The sounds amplified, Srennia looked for the beating tone that came from her own body. Her vis, her own magic. Ara was not difficult to find either, for it was everywhere, but how… ”How do I make them move?”

”Just concentrate on the idea. Magic doesn’t respond to physical force, but it does respond to the will of the mind.” Srennia could hear the combining melody of her teacher in the distance, quiet and, frankly, a lot easier than the task seemed.

Focus, she told herself sternly, picking a melody to accompany her own heartbeat. A string instrument, strummed, wandering up and around about three notes in a strangely erratic melody. It would go well with the low thrum of her vis, and so she envisioned them combining. She’d never been particularly musical, but it seemed almost natural. In fact, it was so simple to think of them combining that she didn’t even notice when they did.

She waited a little while for further instructions from Tarissa before noticing that she couldn’t hear the thrumming of outside arcane, simply the combined sounds of her spell. Instead, there was one near constant sound – waves and the motion of water, both trickles and great crashes against rocks easily audible. She was glad that she had read her homework. Aracanalysis caused the mind to reach the astral plane, and find essence. She concentrated, hearing how the noise could blend with her spell and thinking it true, pulling in as much as she could and listening as the sound changed and became stronger, smoother.

The ocean faded and was replaced by the instruments of the natural world. ”Now shape it, Tarissa instructed, and Srennia found she knew what that meant. Not a knowledge gleaned from reading – one cannot read and expect success riding a bike – but from her teachers’ own mind.

You will like me, she warned the goldfish even as she pressed the spell upon its tiny mind. I am not your enemy, but rather your friend. It was easy enough to cast the spell, pushing away the altered arcane and threading the message through the animals mind. Far easier than creating the spell, in a way, though it left her feeling oddly bereft.

She opened her eyes, and saw Tarissa regarding her with a smile. ”Alright,” the vysstichi said, her teeth gleaming against her dark skin. ”Now it’s time to see how you did.” She looked down at her own hand, which was partially immersed in water. Tiny orange fish swam in and around her fingers, unafraid.

Srennia rolled her sleeve up and placed her fingers in the water. At first the fish seemed to shy away, but before she could remove her hand one came up to her, poking its face curiously against her fingernails. The scales felt smooth and slimy against the pads of her fingers, and its fins tickled her skin.

”Well done!” Tarissa said, pulling her own fingers from the pond. ”I see you have successfully befriended our friends here-“

Which was, of course, when one of them took a chunk out of Srennia’s finger.

[Srennia Te'yessi]

Tarissa’s laughter was like water, flowing forth despite Srennia’s muttered curse and quick retraction from the pond. Her finger was bleeding slightly, not even enough to form a bead or cause pain, but just enough to be annoying. A pinprick of humiliation.

”Do not worry,” Tarissa said finally, her face well set into laugh lines. ”The first time I tried this spell, it was with a skunk… and I was not successful for very long either.” She chuckled. ”And you were not completely unsuccessful – it did not fear you, enough to consider you a food source! Here.” The druid leaned forward, her long white hair falling into her face as she took Srennia’s hand in her own and frowned at it. The blood droplet stopped growing, and when Tarissa wiped it against the rug, she saw that the bite mark was gone. ”Pay attention and I will teach you,” the vysstichi promised, and then Srennia felt the cool touch of another mind against her own, less jarring this time but mind-changing nonetheless. ”The spell is Heal,” Tarissa explained, ”and there’s an animal in the pond that could use your assistance. He’s hiding, but fortunately there is another spell I can teach you to find him.” This one didn’t hurt either, Srennia’s mind slowly giving way and yielding to Tarissa’s as the mage imparted her knowledge.

”Oh,” Srennia said, a little dizzy.

”Enter clara, detect the injured animal and heal it. Then you’ll be done for the day.”

Deep breaths in and out, focus on the breathing, then the sound. It was getting easier and easier, taking only a few minutes now rather than the abysmally long time it did before. It felt like every time she entered clara she rubbed an edge off it, smoothing her mind into the shape it needed to be.

She found the thud of her own heartbeat and chose a lovely viola strain to go with it, mixing as much as she could until she was thrust into the liquidy sound of Nature. Channeling as much essence she could, she used the magic to search, sending out tendrils of her power, questing and curious. It wasn’t a specific spell, and she found that it revealed all animals to her, including Tarissa and the fish. They all felt fine, but there was someone in the corner, behind the pot, whos song resonated with illness.

The spell evaporated and her eyes flicked open and to the pot behind which hid a salamander. Seeing her gaze, Tarissa reached for and scooped up the salamander, which wiggled ineffectively in her grasp. It was tiny and brown, slimy from the water, and one of its toes was missing, a tiny red stub in its place. ”I think this guy met the same fate as you,” Tarissa said, stroking him on the head. The salamander calmed at the touch.

Srennia closed her eyes again and fell back into clara. She began to combine the ara and vis, finding that there wasn’t a whole lot of the latter left. She ignored the sensation of tiredness and the strange feeling of emptiness from casting two spells in rapid succession, and thrust herself into the Plane of Nature. She couldn’t channel as much essence, and hoped it would be enough for a toe. The spell was easy enough to shape, for the salamander wanted to heal, and it was the nature of Nature to want to help him. She encouraged the cells to grow, to repair themselves, for the bone to grow and muscles to knit themselves back together. It seemed overwhelming and strange, like reprogramming a creature from the inside out, large and all-consuming.

The spell finished and her magic lost from her grasp, Srennia opened her eyes. It didn’t look the same, the new skin paler than the old and the toe a bit longer than it should have been, but it was healed. Tarissa smiled and put the creature back into the pond, where it dashed off without a trace of reluctance or lingering affection. ”Very good,” she said. ”Carmelya is proud, I am sure of it. But you must be feeling tired, no? Yes, it is very exhausting these first few times. You will get better.”

Tarissa moved herself to her feet, her knees creaking with the motion, and offered Srennia a hand. ”You should read the third chapter tonight. We will not meet again until the 21st, as I have some business I must attend to, but I expect that you will practice those spells and be prepared to make something substantially larger than a fish your friend in the future.”

[Srennia Te'yessi]

Late Morning, Brightening 21 of Cryxatum
Era II of the Celestine Mandate
Era XIV Post Fractum

Having received a note from her teacher since the last time they met, Srennia knew to meet her at the pet store rather than at the tower. Srennia’s nervousness at the idea of meeting bigger animals was somewhat compounded by the smell that wafted out into the street. Tarissa did not seem to mind – Srennia could see her inside, laughing with the shopclerk.

”Srennia!” Tarissa said, her eyes bright though squinted against the overhead light. Apparently the later hour led to her being slightly more conscious. ”This is Anna’lya, the owner of this fine store, and she has a bit of a problem. One of the puppies has gotten into a bit of a fight,” she said as she led the elf over to a small cage where a group of said creatures lay snoozing. One set himself apart from the others, his sleep interrupted by whimpers, the tip of his ear red with dry blood. ”He’s also a bit cranky over it. So, it’s your job to fix it!”

Srennia regarded the puppy warily, remembering the goldfish from the brightening prior. It was fuzzy and yellow, soft and small, and its tiny sleepy whimpers were the epitome of depressing and pathetic. She nodded, and closed her eyes, stabilizing herself on the table. It was difficult to reach clara while standing, but eventually the buzz in her ears increased into a symphony, and she went about mixing ara and vis and essence, forming it into the friendliness she wished the dog to feel.

There wasn’t much response, as apparently the puppy was so worn out from its adventures that the magic did not disturb it. Unsure of whether her spell had succeeded or not, she reached out one hand and gently touched the puppies fur as she reached for clara yet again, weaving the spell and seeking to knit the soft skin of its ear back together.

She opened her eyes to a warm, wet lick up her wrist, and bright eyes looking at her. It wagged its tail and nuzzled her wrist, then yawned, moved its way over to the pile of its relatives and settled down for a longer, steadier nap.

”Very good,” Tarissa said. ”So lets see… that’s Heal, Detect and Befriend Animal down. Time to go to the less interesting spells, I suppose.” The vysstichi woman took her by the shoulders, her dark fingers strong in grip, holding her up even as she imparted another spell. ”Go ahead, fill the puppy’s water dish then.”

Srennia blinked away the dizziness imparting always seemed to leave her with, and turned her attention to the small clay water dish. She sought for clara, leaving her eyes closed and her mind open, avoiding the smell and the noise to find her own mental piece. There she mixed the outside energy with her own vis, and channeled as much of the oceanic-sounding plane of nature as she could. She used this spell to pull water from the very air, taking the moisture and condensing it, watching eagerly as a small puddle grew and the strength of her spell faded.

”Excellent,” Tarissa said, clapping her hands together. ”How do you feel?”

”A little woozy,” she admitted.

”Think you can do another one?”

Srennia thought about it carefully. She was tired, yes, and a little dizzy. Frustrating, that, to only be able to cast a few spells before she felt faint, but she was still learning, still practicing. ”Yes, I think so.” Hopefully she wouldn’t faint on the floor – that would hardly serve to make her look strong.

”Well then,” Tarissa said, looking around for a moment before coming to a decision. ”Here,” she said, gesturing at the elf and walking outside. It smelled marginally better outside the pet shop, though the streets of any large town were never the most pleasant of atmospheres. Being that this was in a commercial area of town, there were several people wandering around, of various races, ages and apparent intent. The vysstichi reached out and held her arm, all the warning she got before her mind was being pressed upon again, leaving behind more knowledge and dizziness. ”Alright, try that one. Especially on him,” she said, pointing at an irate looking man arguing with a fruit vendor, ”he looks like he could use some calming down.”

Srennia nodded, leaning into the vysstichi accidentally as she closed her eyes. The woman still held her, bracing her weight without any sign of effort at all. It was difficult to reach clara here, with the distracting noises and her forced upright position, not to mention her exhaustion, but eventually she succeeded, the sounds of the street fading away into the sounds her brain interpreted magic as. She picked out a steady violin and mingled it with her own thrumming vis, tangling them irretrievably together before pouring as much essence as she could into the spell. Once complete, she reached out and touched the mind of the customer, seeking to calm him, seeking to pull him out of the strange social conformity he had fallen into, pull him back to the wildness from whence he – from whence they all – had come.

”Well now,” Tarissa said softly, pulling Srennia from her reverie. ”That seemed to be a spell just suited for you. Look,” she said and Srennia did. The redness of the mans face had faded, his veins going back beneath his skin like they belonged, and as he overpaid the merchant he left with a skip in his step, whistling, the vendor left watching his departure with some bemusement.

”Why, I wonder, did that spell work so well when your others took rather more… practice?” Tarissa mused.

Srennia extracted herself from her teachers arms, feeling simultaneously exhausted and elated. ”I like peace, I suppose.” It was dizzying, such victory, for what had she just accomplished if not a small part of Jorel’s will? Lord of chaos, holding natural law above any manmade one, and she had just given that man a taste of her Lords will, even if he had not seen it as such. Srennia smiled brightly, unable to contain her giddiness. This, at last, was a sign that what she was doing here was right – spreading the truth about her Lord, even if she could not yet give it such definition out loud.

[Srennia Te'yessi]

Brightening 27th of Cryxatum
Era II of the Celestine Mandate
Era XIV Post Fractum

Their next meeting was delayed by business on both their accounts, and when the meeting time and place was finally established, Srennia was surprised to find it was in the woods on the outskirts of town. The trees here were different than in Silrosia, shorter and filled with strange, unfamiliar sounds. Tarissa was not so difficult to find, nor was the creek she had mentioned; she was a few minutes walk from the gate, sitting on a vibrant colored blanket.

”Evening,” the vysstichi said brightly, squinting even against the low light that the setting suns gave them. ”Please, take a seat. I’m going to impart the last few spells now, I think, and then we’ll go them in order. You’ve done, lets see,” she held up a dark-skinned hand and began to count, ”create water, befriend, detect, heal and forest calm – is that all? Yes? Good. That leaves Bark Skin,” Tarissa rolled her eyes, ”Pollen, Globe of Fireflies, and the ever popular Panic Animal.” She sighed. ”Well, they’re the least interesting but they all have their uses, I suppose. Here, close your eyes, lets get this done and over with shall we?” The vysstichi imparted the last few spells, the intrusion of her mind against the elfs becoming less painful with each successive use. It was nice, at least, to see some progress.

”Alright, then. Now, Bark Skin is used largely for protection, or if you have a really strange costume party to get to. You can only cast it on yourself, and of course, if you screw up you can put bark bits on the inside of your organs which is not only uncomfortable but frequently deadly. So, do be careful and remember it’s an outside spell, not an inside spell.”

…Painful and deadly? Well, that was encouraging. Srennia blinked for a second before shaking her head. ”Oh,” she said brightly, and then worked on achieving clara. She was especially careful this time – inside of her organs, by Jorel but that sounded unpleasant – and took her time to increase the sound in her ears to a audible and accessible pitch. Pulling ara from the outside and mixing it with her vis, Srennia used the special sort of concentration, the type she usually reserved for walking across precarious bridges or climbing down trees. Pooling as much of the natural essence as she could, she shaped the spell, forcing it into the cells of her skin, concentrating on her arms and legs and leaving her body as bare as she could. It felt… itchy.

”Not bad,” Tarissa said appraisingly. ”You’re not dead, obviously, so that’s a plus. However,” she said, poking Srennia in the gut, ”armor is only good when it protects the delicate bits! Try again, and this time do not shy away from the actual use of the spell. With your level of concentration, you should be able to avoid evisceration.”

”That’s not as reassuring as you maybe meant it to be,” Srennia replied even as she complied. It wasn’t as frightening this time, as her forarms still bore the itch of the former spell, and as the spell sunk into the skin cells of her stomach she felt strong. Rigid, actually – bending was a bit of a problem.

”Alright. You’ve obviously got shaping, focusing and channeling down,” her teacher replied. ”Now it’s time to learn to undo your work, rather than waiting for the effects to wear off. So then, lets get the itchy layer off – try unweaving the spell.”

Srennia frowned. ”I’m not sure what you mean.”

”You’ve cast a spell by giving it a temporary shape. If you pour more of your vis into it, you should be able to undo it, by unweaving the major components.”