An excerpt from Suil of Yul Fami’s ‘On Magical Beasts.’

“As any arcanobiologist worth their meals would tell you, there exists such a depth and breadth of diversity amongst the world’s living things that it is folly to name, categorise and understand them all. Of course, this notion has never stopped us from trying—If anything, the desire to defiantly perform the impossible drives folks of learning to absurd lengths. I myself once became trapped in the gullet of a Solmagian Stone Wyrm, mistaking its uvula for a new variety of cavern slime! While attempting my escape, I made a chance discovery of several varieties of mundane and magical fungi…”

Yenna took a few steps back as her magical sight spell dissipated away. Her legs had begun to quiver, her face had fallen—it was clear to everyone that she had seen something disturbing. An uneasy stillness had fallen over the group, as hands slowly slid towards weapons. A rustling in the bushes nearby was met with the sound of knives and handaxes being drawn, though they all loosened their guard as a four-armed woman stepped out from the shrubbery. Yenna hadn’t considered until now, with everything else that had gone on, that there had been an absence amongst the crew after setting off. She recalled that she had seen the woman before when she had first laid eyes upon the expedition back in Ulumaya.

The woman was a little taller than Yenna, her body resembling carved, polished red stone. She gave the impression of a hawk hunting for her prey, the various weapons strapped to her belt her talons, her piercing amber eyes observing the clearing for movement. One of her hands held a small spherical compass that pointed directly to an identical item held by Eone. Yenna guessed that the compass-shaped item was likely a paired signalling device.

“Is there a disturbance, Captain?” The woman spoke up, her survey complete. Eone slowly nodded her head in reply.

“Our mage has located something interesting, but there may be danger approaching. Oh!” Eone suddenly went from serious to chipper. “You’ve not met yet. This is Narasanha, my scout and guard. Narasanha, this is Yenna Bookbinder, our new mage.”

Ignoring her employer’s levity, Narasanha turned to Yenna. “Can you give me any more information?”

“I’m afraid not. There’s a wind– erm, a concentration of magic over there, and I detected something detecting us magically. We are presently being observed, it seems.” Yenna was a little embarrassed to be unable to say more, but digging deeper with magic would give away as much information as it earned. Without even the certainty of a visual confirmation, she couldn’t be certain whether it was something they could hope to survive.

“I think we should retreat–” Yenna began to offer her opinion, turning to the captain.

“Let’s go find out what it is!” The captain interrupted, her sword drawn and pointed towards the copse, cutting an impressive figure. Nearby, Muut gave a long-suffering sigh, evidently bothered by the captain’s decision but unable or unwilling to stop her.

Before Yenna could protest further, the crew fell into a well-practiced formation. A handful of the expedition crew stayed behind with Chime, including Hirihiri and Tirk, while the majority rallied behind the captain. Notably, Naransanha stood alongside Eone, drawing two curved blades that gleamed in the sunlight. Quivering and uncertain, Yenna stood dumbfounded on the spot until the captain’s gaze fell upon her. One winning grin and a nod from the captain later, the kesh mage was drafted into the advancing group much to her displeasure.

In fact, Yenna was forced to trail immediately behind Eone. Tasked with keeping a lookout, she opted to use a somewhat subtle approach compared to the arcane sight spell she had previously used. The spell had worked by thinning the boundaries of reality and translating what could be sensed into something useful, with a few notable drawbacks. Apart from its lack of clarity, anyone else able to see beyond the mundane realm would be able to look through the same boundary and see the caster. Thus, though it was a fair bit more effort and a bit less reliable, Yenna opted for an alternative spell—she conjured a ball of slightly enchanted water where the protuberances on the water’s surface would highlight the direction that the magic was flowing in as it moved past. To keep the spell going, Yenna would have to carefully make sure the water didn’t leap from her hands.

After a few minutes of hacking through brush and scrub, the group arrived in another clearing. It was a tranquil, verdant field marked by white flowers, with a shallow pool of water and a weather-worn stone shrine at its centre. The shrine was fairly simple, consisting of a mossy stone obelisk and a wide stone bowl at its base. Faded, illegible writing covered all surfaces, and Yenna could see the remains of some kind of thick rope that had been bound around the pillar long ago, now entirely threadbare.

Despite the stillness and serenity of the location, the atmosphere was heavy and oppressive. Even those not magically inclined noticed it, stopping themselves before they stepped out of the protection of the trees. Yenna could only liken the feeling to walking in on some secret ceremony, with her senses shouting that she was not meant to be here. She took a step backwards, a hoof stumbling on a stone and causing the mage to let loose a tiny squeak of surprise. The water in her hand suddenly raced towards the pool, following a very tangible wind that all had to brace themselves against.

A voice boomed out, causing the water to ripple and the leaves to shake.

“THOU HAST DISTURBED A SACRED GROVE, MORTAL KIN. HAST THOU COME AT LAST TO FULFIL THINE SACRED DUTIES?”

Emanating from everywhere and nowhere at once, the voice had a strange, hollow echoing quality to it. The crew stood dead still, but Captain Eone was not to be stopped.

“Might I know who I’m addressing?” Eone looked as though she had been about to take a step forward into the grove, but had thought better of it. All eyes turned to the unyielding captain as everyone waited with bated breath for the mysterious voice to reply.

“HATH MINE OWN NAME BEEN FORGOTTEN ALREADY…? MORTAL MEMORIES ARE SHORT INDEED. THOU HAST THE HONOUR OF ADDRESSING DEMVYA, GODDESS OF THE HARVEST…HAST THOU COME TO RENEW OUR PACT?”

The clearing was silent as all present processed the words that had been spoken. Most of the crew seemed awestruck—to stand in the presence of a god was a rarity indeed! Some made signs of their own gods for protection or understanding while others stood silent. Narasanha did not lower her blades, but Eone sheathed hers. Yenna, who had been ready to flee, held a complicated expression. Processing the booming words, she switched metaphorical gears and began to analyse the situation, ignoring the small concerns she had before of danger to her flesh and blood. There was a mystery here to solve, and she was certain that it involved something that was not a god.

Before Eone responded, Yenna reached towards the captain and got her attention with a pat on the arm. She didn’t speak, instead merely mouthing the words not a god before carefully positioning herself on the very edge of the field. The captain seemed to understand that this was a mage’s business and politely let her take the lead. Everyone else seemed confused, but they trusted their captain—and by association, trusted Yenna.

“Oh noble Demvya,” Yenna began to speak as she retrieved her spellbook from her bag, “I wish to aid you, but I need more information. Might this mortal ask a few questions? Might this mortal approach?”

It was hard to believe to the onlooker that this fearless and charismatically spoken kesh was the same Yenna that had been reluctant to join the advancing party moments prior. Indeed, it was fortunate that the voice had no eyes to see how Yenna’s legs quivered.

“THOU ART THE ONE WHOM I BEHELD, PEERING BEYOND THY REALM. THOU ART A PRIEST, THEN. THOU MAYST APPROACH AND ASK THY QUESTIONS.”

With the utmost of care, Yenna began to walk closer to the stone obelisk. Placing her hooves so they would not dare even touch a flower’s petal, she slowly picked her way towards the shrine. The obelisk was about as tall as Yenna herself, and she could have comfortably sat within the bowl given its size. The writing that covered the stone was so old as to be impossible to read, though it seemed like with a bit of care it could be restored. Had Yenna been any less of a scholar, she would never have approached so close to what could have been immense danger. It was only the mage’s desire to understand and learn that let her approach.

She opened her spellbook and cast a simple spell to cause it to float—which had the unfortunate side-effect of making it begin to hover towards the pillar. Yenna caught the book midair and instead elected to set it on the ground, deeming the magic wind too strong to attempt to counteract it.

“How long have you been here?” Yenna grabbed out her journal and readied herself to record the voice’s answers.

“FOR ALL OF TIME AND NONE. IN TIMES BEYOND MORTAL KNOWING, I ROAMED AIMLESS AND FREE. WHEN THE PEOPLE OF THE VALLEY KNEW ME, THEY BEGGED FOR MY BLESSING AND HEAPED UPON ME FINE OFFERINGS. THEY BUILT ME THIS SHRINE IN AGES PAST.”

Certain emotions leaked through the voice’s words. Yenna felt a tangible sense of confusion emanating from the shrine—to the entity living within, the absence of worshippers was an entire mystery. Yenna was thankful that she had a mage’s training in dividing her focus appropriately. Otherwise, the confusion in the voice’s words were likely to have caused her to share the confusion wholeheartedly.

“What did you give the people of the valley? Why did they stop coming?” Yenna asked cautiously, getting an idea of what she was dealing with.

“FOR THOSE MORTALS, I SPREAD MY POWER O’ER THEIR CROPS AND FIELDS, TO GROW WITH BOUNTY AND SPLENDOUR. THE PEOPLE OF THE VALLEY WERE TO GRANT ME OFFERINGS IN EXCHANGE, TO KEEP MY SHRINE PRESERVED, ITS BOWL FILLED WITH SPOILS. AS I GAVE THEM MORE, I ASKED FOR DUE RETURN. WHEN THE PEOPLE OF THE VALLEY REFUSED MY DEMANDS, THEY CEASED TO RETURN, AND I CEASED TO HELP THEM.”

It was starting to come together. The creature Yenna was speaking to was in the order of spiritkind¹, likely convinced long ago that it was a true divinity and placated with gifts in exchange for its power. When its demands grew too much, the people sealed it into its own shrine and left it to fade away with time. The rope, now rotten and gone, likely acted as a magical barrier keeping it inside—its weakening had left the spirit free to act upon the outside world, though its area of influence seemed diminished.

Yenna’s questions turned to more historical concerns as she questioned the spirit: What rituals did the people perform? What did the people look like? Where did they live, what did they grow, what did they offer? Demvya was happy to speak at length about everything she knew, yet obviously held no small amount of disdain for the people who abandoned her. It was impossible to overlook her sour attitude on the whole matter, as she was constantly trying to flood Yenna’s mind with the same mood. The part of her mind that was listening was bombarded with the spirit’s insistence on sharing their displeasure, leaving her rational mind intact to process that information.

Eventually, Yenna and the spirit reached an accord. In exchange for restoring the shrine, the spirit would tell her everything they knew about these mysterious people of the valley. While the mage could use magic to clean the moss and dirt from the stone surfaces and even draw forth the original form of the writing, she didn’t have the strength or know-how to repair it on her own. After conferring with the captain, one of the hands was called forth to assist—it was none other than Jiin, the muscular woman Yenna had met earlier.

“I used t’be a stonecarver, so this’ll be no problem! Would y’believe th’ Captain brought me along in case somethin’ like this happened?” Her rough speech made quite the contrast to the careful, measured way Yenna had been speaking to the spirit, but Demvya did not seem to disapprove. The spirit allowed her to return with her tools, though Yenna made sure to guide her step-by-step through the flowers to avoid trampling them—spirits could be mighty fickle about such things.

Jiin proved to be a skilled carver and careful observer. As Yenna continued listening to Demvya’s seemingly endless, repetitive tales of ancient feasts and rites, she used simple illusions to show Jiin exactly how to restore the writing. A gentle spray of conjured water cleaned away the muck and magic hands scrubbed away at stained stone. All seemed to be going well until Jiin, attempting to reach an obscured section of stone, shifted a piece of the binding rope.

All too fast, the magical wind that had been slowly pouring into the shrine picked up as the rope, now rotten to nearly nothing, was destroyed under Jiin’s hand with a mere touch. Yenna was powerless to stop it from happening, watching helplessly as a glow built up in the handful of moments it had taken for the rope to fall. The glow at the shrine’s tip began to overpower even the sunlight as Yenna watched in horror, a bolt of white light jumping from the obelisk and into Jiin’s horn.

The woman took an unsteady step back then forward, her foot falling in the pristine pool of water with a loud splash. She looked down at her hands, then at the world around, and finally at Yenna. Her eyes glowed an empty white, and her voice was a hollow, booming echo.

“THIS VESSEL SHALL SERVE NICELY, MORTAL. LET US VISIT THE PEOPLE OF THE VALLEY, SO I MAY SPEAK UNTO THEM DIRECTLY.”

¹ - Arcanobiologists divide a majority of magical entities into three groups—Beastkind, spiritkind, and elementkind. Further divided into countless sub-categories, the important distinction here is that all spiritkind are composed of some intangible magic.