Gwynneth

Stepping through the gate to go back home, Gwynneth took a deep breath and spread her wings. She ululated as she flew up, feeling the wind against her face as she headed to the platform above where she saw people waiting. Smiling she flew just above the platform before flaring her wings and dropping gently down.

Ten Fae stood there, her parents and her six siblings. Of the other two, she recognised only one, Pirantia, the headwoman of the village. The last was dressed in elaborate robes, a tree with leaves worked into it in golden filigreed threads. Her hair was arranged in a tight bun, held in place by jewel encrusted hair pins. For a moment Gwynneth was distracted from her family by what she recognised as a high official of some institution unknown to her but was quickly brought back by the antics of her younger siblings.

Gwynneth laughed out loud as the discipline of her younger siblings broke and three of them launched themselves over the heads of their parents, diving at her. The youngest, Shawnea, was saved from a headfirst plunge by Gwynneth grabbing hold of her, and feeling the pain in her hands flared as she caught him, the two-year-old being far more adventurous than her current skill with her wings allowed for. The other two flitted around her, having to content themselves with fighting over who got to hold her hand and who was sentenced to the ignominy of just being able to clutch onto the edge of her shirt. She shifted her siblings hand a bit to make her grasp her still bandaged covered hands with less than a death grip to relieve the pain.

Her father gave them all a stern look, though none paid too much attention to him. A renowned Awakened, one of the few known Awakened Fae who had been awakened to Fur the Weaponsmaster, his fury and skills were reserved for the Dark and failed to materialise when his children were involved, regardless of how ferocious the face he showed them.

Her other siblings watche and she saw the eldest of them, older than her and married himself though neither his wife or children were there just shaking his head and, like her, laughing at the children. The others looked horrified, not having patience for the misbehaviour of their younger siblings in front of the dignitaries. Gwynneth, grinning and trying to move with the hanger ons shuffled forward, greeting her father mother formally with kisses on both cheeks, before bowing to the Headwoman and unknown dignitary.

“Welcome home Gwynneth.” The voice came from the unknown woman, all the others remaining silent in deference to her status. “Word of what has happened has been brought to us.” She bowed with arms crossed then opened in a wide sweep. “You honour your family, your house, your village and your clan.” Still bowed she continued, “I represent the clan Head and invite you to attend her at her residence in the capital three days hence.” She pulled out a scroll, tied with a bow of spider silk, holding it forward for Gwynneth to take. Once Gwynneth did so she straightened. “I hope to see you in three days.” She stepped back, giving way to the Head Woman.

Gwynneth stared at the scroll in a shock, clutching it in her hand. As the head woman grabbed her shoulders, she looked up into the lined and aged face. The eyes regarding her were so pale a grey as to be almost clear, some said that those eyes could read souls. Everyone knew the Head Woman was awakened, yet none knew by what power. Gwynneth felt small as the eyes bored into her but stayed still as she was examined.

“Hmm, there is much more to you than meets the eye. And more to what happened than we have heard!.” She laughed, “But then there is more to our village than most know and as one of our awakened you will learn more.”

Gwynneth saw her father frown, wondering what he thought. She knew her village was considered a home for the awakened, many gathering and living there together away from the regard of the non-awakened, anonymity in a place where all had power rather than fame by being a lone figure in a wider world. Those wanting fame and recognition gathered in the capital, yet their village had more awakened than the capital and was thus watched carefully. After all, they probably had enough might to overthrow the king, though it was not a risk that any seriously considered, but, still, a watch was kept.

Returning home was great. Gwynneth revelled in the warm atmosphere and the attention of her siblings. For young Shawnea three months was an eternity and he clung to her whenever he could. The others responded each in their own way, though little gifts left by her shyer sister made her smile, especially when she glimpsed her watching her when she thought herself unobserved. Her older brother and his family came over for meals, while she was there, making mealtimes crowded and rowdy affairs.

On her second day home, she was summonsed by Pirantia. With a bit of trepidation she made her way to the Village Head’s home. It was larger than others in the village. A three story building, like many with the bottom floor being for animals and the family living above, though in Pirantia's case she was the only one there now.

Gwynneth climbed the stairs, stepping before the door. She knocked, and the door was immediately opened by the old woman. She smiled, turned around, and beckoned with her finger for Gwynneth to follow. She led the way through the formal entrance and meeting area that made up most of the lower floor and into a smaller, more comfortable room off from a banqueting hall. A fire was burning in the grate and two arm chairs that were well padded with a table between them sat before the fire. On the table was a crystal decanter, a pale blue liquid filling it, not something that Gwynneth recognised. Pirantia took a seat, and waited for Gwynneth to do likewise.

Gwynneth remained silent, mindful of the respect owed to the Head and knowing she should not be first to speak. She was eager to talk. Anxious, to be more honest, not really knowing why she had been called here. So, she sat in silence as Pirantia watched her… And was shocked when the silence was broken by a hearty laugh from Pirantia.

“Forgive me for my foibles, dear. I do enjoy playing little games and seeing how long people will stew before they give up on being polite is always such fun to play. Not much fun with you, I have the feeling your patience will outlast me however long I wait.” Her mouth crinkled up in a smile, “Now, we have not talked before. Some in the capital find it remarkable that I do not talk to every Awakened in the village from birth, but I prefer to wait until we can have a meaningful conversation. Though even that is going to have to wait. Events are overtaking us.” She paused, looking at Gwynneth, “Now, I can see you want to speak. So do so, ask whatever it is you want.”

Gwynneth cleared her throat, the manner of the Head Woman relieving her, but not fully. It did seem a bit too contrived. “Head, why am I here? Surely you have more important things to do than to meet with me, a novice who has only just finished her studies at the Academy?”

“No, dear, that is why I must meet with you. Now, not later. You received many accolades from the Academy and a missive even arrived from Barish, the Supreme Magister. It seems you have fallen into heady company.” She paused while she filled two crystal tumblers with the blue liquid from the decanter. “Now, part of that seems to be because you have had the good fortune, though that is debateable, to be grouped with the first known Awakened of Hiphate. That may be a great boon, or a great disaster. Events move, threads are unravelled from the tapestry while others are inter-woven and you sit in the centre of the events. Not always a good place to be.” She looked at Gwynneths still bandage wrapped hands, “So, I offer a choice. What many do not know is who my Patron is. She is Shantillar, known as the Mistress of the Soul. I do not often invoke her favour, her power is great but debilitating. If it were known I had this power, I would have little peace, so I ask you to keep it quiet, whether you accept, or not, my offer.”

Gwynneth swallowed, looking at those grey eyes so close to hers again, eyes that seemed to be digging into her soul. “Yes, I will tell no one. Surely it is of no ones concern aside from those you wish to confide in.”

Pirantia nodded, “Good, now for the offer. You mana burned your hands to heal one of your friends, being prepared to sacrifice yourself and your power to save another. Sadly, with the way things are going, it is likely that you will find yourself in this position again, sooner rather than later. So, here is my offer. I will use the power of Shantillar to open another mana conduit to your soul. I will change your inner self to allow not just the use of the air mana you now control, but to also allow you to channel nature mana for healing.” As she saw the grin beginning on Gwynneth’s face she continued “BUT consider this carefully. You are Awakened by Timora, the aspect of Wind. She may not take well to you being opened to the realm of another Power. There is no way to know how she will react. She may welcome it and the extra power and versatility it brings to you, or she may resent it and see it as a betrayal. The Powers are not easily known or understood, and what they objected to in the past they may welcome now, and what they welcomed before could suddenly be hated. Think first, and if you choose to allow me to open you, drink what is in the glass before you.”

Gwynneth sat and stared into the fire. At first she had no hesitation, but the thought of her being abandoned by Timora scared her. She felt the breeze of the air being moved from the heat of the fire, a breeze that whispered past her ear and seemed to whisper to her, “Drink.” Did she imagine it? Was it her imagination creating a phantom sound to give her an excuse or was it Timora guiding her in the wind? She could not know, but looking at her hands, remembering the site of Kilia lying there, dying, she knew she could only make one choice. She reached out, took the tumbler, and drank.

A rainbow world confronted her, everything outlined in a hue of colours. She watched as the arm of Pirantia reached out, trailing a rainbow, and took her glass and drank. She could see Pirantia’s face though it was hard to read in the riot of colours. She felt Pirantia putting her hands on either side of her head, drawing it closer to her own, staring into her eyes. All that Gwynneth could think was “How did I ever think her eyes were grey and colourless?” As she stared into the luminous violet orbs, she felt like she was dropping into them, that she was being swallowed into their depths. Then she knew no more until she reawakened to the sounds of her brother arriving with his family and the shrieks of children.

Before getting up, she decided to check on her status, grasping her chronicle, and opening her page.

Name: Gwynneth Race: Fae Class: Awakened MageLevel 5 (XP 1800/6000)

Str: 12 Con: 10 Dex: 14 Int: 18 Cha: 15

Skills:

Mana Sense 10 (Journeyman), Read/Write 10 (Journeyman), Dodge 5 (Apprentice), Cooking 10 (Journeyman), Calligraphy 5 (Apprentice), paper making 5 (Apprentice), Ink Making (5) Apprentice, Scribe 10 9Journeyman)

Stat points: 0 Skill point: 0 Hit Points: 30/30 Mana Points: 50/50

Mana Realms: Air (Wind), Nature (Healing)

Magic Skills: Magic Scribe 10 (Journeyman, Air Mana Manipulation 10 (Journeyman), Nature Mana Manipulation 1(Novice)

She looked at the new entry in her Mana Realms and magic skills. She smiled, opening her senses to feel the mana around her. She revelled in the familiar feeling of the air mana all around, watching it at play, but now there was another element. The interweaving of life, of nature, that permeated the trees. Her skin glowing with life mana all the way to her injured hands where she could see life mana dimmed. She tried concentrating on them, to fix the paths and the flow of the life mana, but the effort led to her screaming, clutching her hand in pain. Clearly her skills were nowhere near advanced enough yet. She saw her sister-in-law peering in anxiously, most likely coming from the sound of her scream, but she just waved at her, getting up and joining the family circus that was the evening meal.

The trip to the capital the next day started early. She would be flying with her father and Pirantia, but even moving at higher speeds they would need at least six hours to make the trip. As such, her father packed a travel bag with food for them so they could stop and eat en route. The bag was strapped to his chest, the straps avoiding his wings and leaving them clear to fly. They left at sunrise, the sun barely warming the cool air as they took off.

The capital was nothing like the village. Having grown over the millennia, and containing embassies from many other realms and races, its architecture reflected the changing tastes, and prosperity, of the city over the eras. Brick and mortar buildings vied with crystal spires and living trees. Mountains had been hollowed out in places, while in others the homes were sunk beneath fields, the ground above given over to crops and livestock. There was little order to the city, and advancing through it was chaos. Fae flew in the air above, Gwathur and humans pushed past each other in the streets while others were said to never venture above ground and had their own tunnels which came up into the air on many a corner. Gwynneth felt herself lucky to be flying, the streets below looked much too crowded for comfort and she quailed at the thought of being stuck underground.

The mansion of the clan head lay near the centre of the Chaos, a large crystal dome covering it, forcing those in the air to come to the ground to enter. At a suggestion from Pirantia, she quickly looked at it with her mana sense, and was shocked at the layers of mana that ran through the dome. Every form of mana she could imagine seemed to be embedded within as part of a shield, and she could see the mana penetrating the ground. She realised that the dome was not a dome, but a complete sphere, and the mansion completely enclosed within its protective confines. Briefly she wondered how they breathed within but gave up the speculation assuming that if they could afford such an elaborate shield, they would have no issues with creating mana conduits to bring in all the necessities of life.

They landed outside one of the guardhouses, with Gwynneth presenting her invitation. The letter seemed to meet with the guard’s approval and they were quickly escorted inside. They came through to a small antechamber with comfortable couches laid out along with a small table with crystal glasses and decanters of various beverages laid out. They did not have a chance to use the amenities though, almost as they arrived the woman that had greeted Gwynneth when she arrived home entered the room.

“Thank you for coming. I am delighted you decided to accept the Clan Head’s invitation. Please follow me.” She bowed to them, then turned and started walking out the room, the three travellers behind her. The walk was through a small hallway and through an ornate door, leading into a formal meeting hall. Sitting behind a large desk, on an elaborate stool to leave her wings untouched, the clan create mounted on the wall behind her done up in red gold and onyx, the clan head sat, easily recognizable from her portraits. She put aside her papers as they entered, smiling.

“I welcome our esteemed clan members, and thank the Pirantia, Village Head, for allowing them here.” With a nod at Pirantia she continued, “My assistant will see to your needs while our clan business is discussed.” The words were polite, but also very clear, Pirantia was not clan, and would not be part of the meeting. Not unexpected, but still disappointing for her after the long trip here. But knowing that it was form and there was no room to complain, she bowed, murmured the polite phrases necessary and followed the woman out, leaving Gwynneth and her father with their clan head.

“Ah, now we are alone and can drop the formality. Brad’I how are you? It has been a while since you visited us here at the capital?”

Gwynneth’s father smiled, but Gwynneth could tell it was a polite one. Clearly he was wary of he clan head, regardless of how friendly she seemed. “All is well, my wife sends her regards.”

The clan head smiled, inclining her head, and Gwynneth thought she detected something sharp in her father’s reply. She could not recall her mother ever mentioning the clan head. But it was polite, and everyone seemed relaxed despite the barbs in the air. “So, “ the clan head looked at her, “you are our latest prodigy. Our clan is blessed to have your family with its Awakened in our midst. You bring honour to the clan, especially with your exploits. Now, tell me of your time at the academy, and of those you have been grouped with.”

Gwynneth spoke, telling the clan head everything that had happened, not hiding or leaving anything out. She knew that, in all likelihood, she was telling her nothing new, that she had her own information sources, no need to raise her ire by hiding anything. At the end of it the clan head looked at her, then thought a while, tilting her head to the side.

“You have done well and brought honour to the clan. Your deeds will be recorded. One hopes that the Saga of the clan will be greatly enriched by your exploits in the future.” She got up, and moved to the front of the desk, perching on its edge. “Now, when you go back you will have the option of remaining with your group, going on your own or forming a new group. I cannot make the decision for you, it is one that only you can make and an order from the clan head would be breaking protocol and would be taken askance by the Magisters’ of the Awakened. But I would suggest that you do your best to remain with Martin. You are sure to benefit from such an alliance as can be seen from the fact that he has already gifted you with a rune marked weapon. Such an alliance could benefit the clan greatly.”

The meeting ended soon after that, and Gwynneth knew that the “suggestion” that she remain connected to Martin was the sole reason for it. Well, she had intended to stay with the group if they remained together, but she knew even if they did not she would be well advised to stay connected to Martin, the “suggestion” was not to be taken lightly.