Thea watched a brownie lead Raith away to the library as she exited the dining hall through a different door beside the sidhe noble. Every step she took beside Countess Selene made her feel like a shadow. The broken echo of a woman who once stood proud.
The weight of her injury pulled at her confidence, and beside the Countess’s radiant, otherworldly presence, she never felt more graceless. More mortal. What foolishness had ever made her think she could belong in the company of beings like this?
They climbed the staircase again, spiraling upward through stone hallways. Strange glyphs shimmered faintly along the walls, like afterimages seen through half-closed eyes. Thea hadn't noticed them on the way down, and idly wondered if the sidhe's presence somehow made them visible. When they reached the Countess’s chamber, two guards in moonsilver armor flanked the doorway, unmoving and silent. Once inside, it appeared much like the quarters she and her companions had been given. A large wooden trunk sat at the far end of the room, carved so intricately with sylvan scenes that the animals almost seemed to stir within the grain. The scent of rose and old magic hung in the air.
A gesture from the Countess sent tiny sprites darting toward a tea set in the corner, wings chiming softly like silver bells. They poured from a teapot far too large for their tiny arms, yet it somehow floated in their grasp. Selene settled into a silken armchair and gestured for Thea to join her. Thea hesitated, then sat. Her hand trembled slightly as she accepted the offered cup. Golden colored, with a calming, gentle fragrance.
She took a cautious sip.
Warmth flooded her chest like a sunrise. Joy, true, untethered joy, bubbled up inside her with alarming speed. For the first time in days, she wanted to smile.
After all of the pain and sorrow, it was not just unexpected, but unwelcome. She was furious about her arm. She was scared for her dad and whatever was going on within the Order. The ongoing reality of her first encounter with the fae would be hard pressed to fall further short of expectations.
She set the tea down with a soft clink and tried to keep the anger out of her voice.
“Excuse me, but I don’t wish to have my emotions altered right now.”
Selene’s expression shifted subtly, the corners of her perfect lips turning down not in offense, but apology.
“Forgive me. It was not meant as fae trickery. It has been long since I kept company with a satyr. Once upon a time, a draught to soften grief was the kindest welcome one could offer.”
Thea blushed, ashamed she hadn’t known that. She used to dream about who she might have been, had the old connections between satyrs and the realm of faerie not been severed. Now that she was here, she could barely meet their eyes.
“Thank you, Countess,” she said softly, her gaze still lowered. “You’re not what I expected.”
The sidhe noble laughed. A sound like crystal windchimes caught in a breeze.
“Please, call me Selene. If we were at the High Court in the realm of twilight, you would certainly find fae as cryptic and theatrical as you feared. But here, as Warden of Borders, I must speak plainly. Too many riddles are poor diplomacy.”
“I do hope to visit the fae realm someday. It’s always felt as if a part of me is missing, and I hoped someday to find it there.”
Selene bowed her head.
“And a part of us is missing since the absence of your people. I will gladly host you at my estate when the time comes. But first, we must ensure you survive this mission. So tell me of the life magics I sense from you,” Selene said. “If we are to come up with a solution to your impediment, it will be best to incorporate your strengths.”
She debated what to hold back, but for some reason Selene evoked a feeling of trust. If she really hoped to have her help, it would be important to take advantage of every detail.
So Thea related everything. From her shield [Skills] to her [Druid] magic. When she was done, the sidhe nodded thoughtfully.
“Seeds are a curious choice. Quite appropriate for a guardian such as yourself. The hard exterior nurtures the delicate life within, until it is ready to explode into the world as a full expression of brilliance.”
Thea blushed, unwilling to admit she hadn’t put nearly that much thought into the philosophy behind her decision.
“Yes, well, the vines also have excellent combat applications.”
“Indeed.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully before continuing. “Given time, we could craft an enchanted prosthetic. But your journey must begin before such a task could be completed. Show me this [Vine Gauntlet].”
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Thea nodded, pulling a seed from her pouch. It was small and ordinary looking until she activated the [Skill]. The seed pulsed with warmth in her palm, and with a whisper of power, vines erupted in a smooth spiral, wrapping themselves up her arm and knitting together into the shape of a gauntlet. Her fingers felt alive with the thrum of growth.
Selene’s eyebrows rose. Thea flicked a few tendrils outward in demonstration, but the performance rang hollow to her. She didn’t share the sidhe’s expression of approval.
“This is my shield arm, though. I can’t use both at the same time.”
Selene tapped one elegant finger against her lips.
“Can you grow the gauntlet on your injured arm?”
Thea thought about it.
“I’m not sure. I’ve trained to channel my seed magic through my hands. Even if I could do it, I can’t pick up a seed with this.”
She held up the stump and frowned.
“Let’s focus on one problem at a time. I’ve no influence on the Weaver’s Gifts, but magic is something I know quite a bit about. Dandelion, fetch me a strip of cloth.”
The sprite flitted to the trunk and touched a spiraled knot. The lid bloomed open as if the wood itself had decided to reveal its contents. The space within was impossibly vast, dimly lit by luminescent fungi and glinting strands of spider silk.
When Dandelion returned, Selene took the strip of white cloth and held out her hand.
“Give me the seed you would use.”
Thea placed the seed into her waiting palm. The sidhe bound it gently to the end of her arm. When the cloth was secured, Selene drew back.
“Can you feel the seed’s life energy?”
Closing her eyes, she reached out with her magic. For a moment, there was nothing.
But suddenly, there it was. The faint life pulsing within the tiny seed. She opened her eyes and nodded.
“Good. Now if the seed were in your hand, how would you make it grow?”
Selene gave her a guarded look at this question, and Thea suspected there was more to it than there seemed.
“I’d speak to the life within. Ask it what I needed. Then guide it, providing the power it needs with aether through my fingers.”
The sidhe’s face relaxed at this, and she offered a faint smile.
“Excellent. I am glad to see that the old ways are still taught. For a time, some mortals believed that druidic magics were more powerful if they bent life to their will, making such changes with brute force.”
Thea’s eyes went wide, and she flinched from the words.
“No [Druid] I’ve ever met would use their magic in that way.”
“It pleases me to hear you say that. Now, back to the matter at hand.”
Selene winced at the accidental turn of phrase.
“I apologize, Lady Thea…”
Thea laughed and waved her off with her good hand. It was nice to see some small fallibility in this sublime fae noble.
“I appreciate your concern, Countess, but I’m not that delicate.”
“Do you feel the aether when it goes through your arm, or only when it arrives at your fingers?”
“Only my fingers.”
“Yet it flows through your arm just the same. When you intercept a strike with your shield, where is your focus?”
“On my forearm, where the blow will be centered.”
“Yet the strength flows from you shoulder, your hips, and rest of your body, even though all of your focus is on your forearm. The aether you move is the same. We simply need to change where you put your focus.”
Selene gestured again, and they began. The next hour was filled with slow, deliberate motions and quiet breathing. Channeling. Feeling. Learning to think of her arm not as missing, but as changed. Thea concentrated on where the magic flows, not where it ends.
Eventually, the seed responded. A tangle of vines burst forth, wrapping themselves in a loose tangle where her hand should be. Thea stared at it, half in awe, half in dismay.
The vines were limp, unstructured, and unfocused. They drooped like wet ropes from her forearm. No fingers, no precision. Worse, when she tried to control them, it felt clumsy and distant, barely responding like reaching with a hand asleep.
A flush of frustration crept over her face.
“I was just beginning to learn how to use it well, and now I’m back to square one. Worse than square one.”
She thought of her other seedvine spells like vinewall and grasping vines, and felt her neck begin to flush with heat.
“Dammit, I can’t even use my other spells like this. My days as an adventurer are over.”
Thea realized she’d raised her voice and slumped her shoulders and turned away in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, Countess. I am very grateful for your help. This is all just really frustrating.”
The sidhe’s voice was gentle in reply.
“Of course it is child. But we will find our way down this winding path.” She held up a hand and snapped. “Dandelion, fetch me the silver rowan seed.”
The little sprite zipped off to the chest and rummaged around for a moment before returning to place a seed in Selene’s palm. She looked at it and frowned.
“This is queen’s rowan. Would you curse this mortal with the High Court’s jealousy? Try again.”
The little fae bowed and darted away again. Thea idly wondered if they didn’t speak, or if their language was simply too small and swift for her mortal ears. It returned a moment later with the correct seed. Selene held it between her thumb and forefinger for Thea to inspect.
“Silver rowan grows in moonlight, and is cultivated in the noble gardens of Seelie and Unseelie alike. Its wood is used in our dream magics and rituals of transformation.”
Thea took it. Immediately, she felt the magic within. Like a drumbeat in the soil of her soul. The seed held more life than any she had touched before. It radiated potential, wild and ancient. It trembled in her hand like a heart on the verge of awakening.
“The wood is a natural aether channel,” the Countess continued. “It possesses the strength to be repeatedly used by your power. I believe that with time and practice, you will be able to use your magic through the vines. It will also allow you to master control of their use much more quickly.”
Thea looked at the tiny seed in her hand and felt tears welling up in her eyes. She cursed at herself, angry at becoming weepy in front of this magnificent fae. She used that ire to blink back the tears and swallowed thickly.
“I don’t have the words to express my gratitude.”
“You needn’t express any at all. We are preparing you for a mission on behalf of both Courts. It is my duty to offer this small assistance.”
Looking at the powerful and ancient seed in her hands, Thea didn’t believe for a second that this assistance was small. But she would take it just the same. She exhaled slowly, grounding herself.
This may not be the ending she feared, but the beginning of something else entirely.
“Now then, let’s see what we can come up with to secure that to your arm. Dandelion, fetch me the castle tailor.”
