Excerpt from General Yrkzhext’s¹ ‘Collected Poems, Volume Three.’

“Water courses and becomes

The truth of the shape of all things

Yet when it resides in truest stillness

All that’s left is the apathy it brings.”

The following morning, Yenna woke to a dull, throbbing pain. Her entire body ached from her burns, but it was her back that was bearing the brunt of this uncomfortable sensation. Unable to properly lie down for fear of not being able to get back up again, Yenna had resorted to a tool that she had packed but hoped not to use—an upright bed. The small contraption resembled a wide, sideways folding stool. Used by kesh travellers when there wasn’t space to properly lie down and sprawl out, the upright bed allowed one to lean their upper half against it to facilitate some measure of comfort. If it was the difference between an uncomfortable night’s sleep and no sleep at all, Yenna would choose the former every time.

After the appropriate amount of time was spent debating whether or not to simply go back to sleep, Yenna decided to try and make something of the day. There were still a few things she wanted to do—apart from generally catching up on reading and research—and this time spent in recovery felt like the ideal chance to get things done without worrying about the expedition running face first into some other ridiculous event. Before she could even try to get anything done, Yenna would first have to be able to stand up.

Steadying herself on her upright bed, Yenna carefully pulled her front legs out from under herself. Thankfully, her lower half had experienced far less damage from her flames—though Yenna couldn’t help but notice her hooves were still somewhat scorched. Making a mental note to clean them, she continued her attempt at standing. Pushing upwards with her back legs, Yenna managed to bring herself to an upright position. The mage stopped and caught her breath—it was much easier for kesh to stay standing than it was to get up, so the hard part was over.

The fresh morning air felt delightful as Yenna stepped out of her tent. She had kept on her loose shirt and thrown a blanket over the rear of her lower half—it usually went under her caparison, but getting properly dressed wasn’t an option with her burns. Yenna felt a little bit underdressed, but the industrious villagers of the town of Sumhrell weren’t bothered. All around her, people were working hard to restore the town to its former glory. Off in the distance, Yenna could hear the booming voice of Captain Eone—it sounded like she was coordinating some of the members of the expedition to help.

“Mage Yenna? Why’re you up and about, dear?”

A familiar voice called out, and Yenna turned to see the elderly cook Hirihiri. Right behind her was Tirk, carrying a bowl with such care and focus that he didn’t notice Hirihiri stopping—the woman carefully side-stepped him to avoid a collision without even looking.

“Ah, I was just…I didn’t want to be all cooped up, and–”

“Master Yenna! Your breakfast!” Tirk had reached the mage’s side, holding up the bowl like some grand offering. Yenna took it and gave him a small thank you. She politely overlooked the fact that the boy had neglected to bring a spoon. Hirihiri tapped Tirk on the horn with the forgotten utensil, and he quickly took it and handed it over.

“I was just going to warm up last night’s stew, but the little fella insisted I make porridge. Lucky for him—and you, I suppose,” Hirihiri chuckled, “I just got given a bag of oats as thanks. Then he said he absolutely had to bring it to you himself, because–”

“Master Yenna wants to ask me something!” Tirk’s grin was unbearably bright, and his hunch was perfectly correct. Yenna was going to ask him something.

“That’s…well, unusual, but I suppose it could just be a lucky guess.” Yenna ate a spoonful of the porridge as she considered this. It was exactly how she liked it, thick and filled with honey—the mage couldn’t help but smile. “I was going to ask if Tirk, and the others, wouldn’t like to have a magic lesson today—seeing as I have been unable to do so recently.”

Tirk literally jumped for joy. Without a second thought, the boy began to run off—when that second thought finally hit, several metres down the road, he stopped in his tracks, turned and shouted, “I’ll get everyone to meet up by Chime!”

“I…I hadn’t meant immediately…” Yenna sighed, and Hirihiri laughed.

“That’s just how the boy is. Gets an idea in his head, runs face-first towards it.” The old cook crossed her arms and watched Tirk run up the road. “He’s taken a real shine to you, dear. Don’t let him down!”

Yenna didn’t know how to respond to that, so she gave an awkward laugh. “W-Would you like to come along to–”

“Oh, gods, no.” Hirihiri shook her head emphatically and gave a laugh. “I’m far too old to learn new tricks. ‘Sides, if I was busy waving my hands about and mumbling mystically, we’d never have our daily soup and bread!”

With her piece said, Hirihiri bid Yenna farewell and left. The mage felt like a storm had just swept past her, given her a bowl of porridge and left her with a schedule. Taking another spoonful of her sweet breakfast, Yenna couldn’t help but smile once again. Her other immediate goal was to try and understand the deep-blue colour of water, Flow—perhaps, Yenna thought to herself, it was time to simply ‘go with the flow’ and see where it took her.

–

Thankfully, there was plenty of time to set up before everyone arrived. Yenna finished her breakfast, retrieved her bag and found Chime quite quickly, leaving them to wait for everyone else to be diverted from their tasks. This also left time for Yenna to speak to Chime—and for her to practice the silupker language.

“C-Could you say that one more time? I…I almost got it.”

Chime emitted a slow, methodical series of clanging, jangling noises. Yenna screwed up her face in concentration and looked down at the notes in her journal.

“The pitch of each sound operates as a modifier to…then the reverberation alters the tense…or was it a kind of modality?” Yenna set the journal to hover in the air with a simple spell and, now slightly frustrated, distracted herself by casting the spell that braided her hair how she liked it.

The silupker language was very different to the languages of flesh-bearing races, partly because its sounds were entirely impossible for throats to replicate within the tolerances needed to speak it. Thus, it made it hard to practice without a silupker willing to put in the time to do so—thankfully for Yenna, Chime had the patience of a saint. She quietly wondered if that was why such a serene visage had been painted on their head.

By the time Tirk returned, with Jiin and Mayi in tow, Yenna had thoroughly exhausted her own patience on the particulars of learning a new language. Chime understood her perfectly well, and Yenna could at least get the gist in return—for now, that would have to do. With everyone assembled, it was time to begin the lesson.

“So! Could anyone remind us what happened last lesson?” Yenna looked across the faces of her students, her worldly cares washing away as she slipped into the comfortable role of tutor.

“Last time we drew a bunch of circles,” Tirk nodded sagely. “Then we poured magic into them, like a cup. Jiin’s cup was wobbly.”

“Argh! It was, but y’don’t have’ta bring it up again!” Jiin put her hands on her hips, and Mayi burst into hysterics. Chime put an antenna on Jiin’s shoulder, and the woman sighed in defeat. Thankful that everyone was kind enough to refrain from bringing up the reason their lesson ended prematurely, Yenna moved on.

“Today, we’re going to be learning about the first two of the fundamental spell symbols.” With a few flicks of her wrist, Yenna produced a glowing symbol in the air. “This first one is called Oe, and it collects magic. Mages use this symbol for lots of things—in a simple spell, it can allow you to gather up magic before releasing it, while in a complex spell it can be used to ensure magic moves towards certain elements and away from others. Try drawing it now in the air.”

The group carefully inspected the Oe symbol and attempted to replicate it. Given that the symbol was composed of two overlapping circles, it caused the group to groan.

“Really? More circles?” Mayi frowned, trying to draw the symbols in the air. “What is it with mages and circles?”

“It’s like two cups, isn’t it?” Tirk was enthusiastically, if poorly, tracing circles in the air. “Keeping everything in because if it falls out of one, it goes in the other.”

Yenna nodded—the boy was incredibly insightful. “That is quite an apt metaphor. Now, you won’t achieve anything just waving your hands around—channel your magic into your fingertip and try again. Take your time with it.”

Chime protested the use of the word ‘fingertip’ in a way that Yenna was fairly certain was a joke, but they managed to trace the Oe symbol before everyone else—they were quite precise with those antennae. Chime’s Oe symbol hung in midair for a few moments, gathering energy before fizzling out. The silupker looked mildly disappointed, and everyone else was curious.

“Why’s your one still there, but Chime’s vanished?” Jiin still hadn’t managed to draw one circle cleanly, being quite distracted with everyone else’s progress.

“I bound mine with a spell to grant it stability,” Yenna gestured to her Oe symbol, “But yours are being…washed away, in simple terms. As it calls magic in, the energy pushes at the symbol you’ve made until it can no longer keep itself together. Which is also, coincidentally, why Tirk is having so much trouble.”

Tirk had taken to trying to draw the symbol extremely slowly, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. However, the glacial pace of his drawing was making it so his first circle faded away before he could draw his second. Yenna moved to help him, directing his hands to complete the Oe—only for her back to complain at her leaning down, forcing her back up.

“Hey, Demvya, y’know how to do this?” Jiin gave the impression she was talking to the air above her, highlighting the change of posture and expression that signified Demvya’s possession.

“YEA, I AM A BEING OF MAGIC—A GODDESS TRUE. ‘TIS A TRIFLE FOR ONE SUCH AS I.”

Demvya gracefully raised a finger. Without moving her fingertip, the Oe appeared. Yenna and Tirk gasped, Mayi groaned, and Chime said something about cheating. The mage was starting to feel like they couldn’t go a day without Demvya dropping some revelation about the nature of spirits and magic. A few moments later, Demvya’s Oe faded, turning into white flower petals that blew away in the wind.

“I…thank you, Demvya. I may have to ask you more about that later—but for now, we should let Jiin practice this.”

The spirit blinked, her body relaxed, and Jiin returned. “Aw, c’mon! It’s kinda like I did it, right?”

The group exploded with laughter, and it took a few minutes to calm everyone down and bring them back on track. After several minutes more of practice, everyone managed to consistently produce the Oe. As a convenient side-effect, practicing this symbol also contributed to one’s skill in circle drawing.

“So, no more circles?” Mayi gave a hopeful grin as Yenna brought their attention back, though her smile quickly faded upon seeing Yenna’s grimace. “...More circles it is, then.”

“W-Well! Don’t lose hope yet!” The mage tried her best to keep them from complaining—the earliest parts of learning magic were largely about learning symbols by rote. “The next symbol we’re going to make has triangles.”

Yenna hadn’t exactly expected cheers, but she also hadn’t anticipated a general groaning. Tirk, however, wasn’t going to let a little thing like three-sided shapes get him down.

“The sooner we learn all this, the sooner we can do cool magical wooshes! Ka-bloom!” The boy spread his arms wide and laughed, making everyone feel a little better. Yenna idly wondered where they found this child, filled with so much joy and happiness—and then rather seriously wondered where he came from. Putting the thought aside for the moment, she returned to the next piece of the lesson.

“The second symbol we’re learning today is called Av.” Yenna wiped away the glowing Oe symbol and wove a new spell—this time, conjuring a symbol that looked like a floating shadow. It was formed of two triangles arranged horizontally tip to tip—a sideways hourglass shape. “This is the opposite of Oe—it repels magic. It is not quite as commonly used as Oe, but it has a vital role. When creating a spell, there are parts that you do not want interrupted by the flow of ambient magic—the Av symbol pushes that magic away, like a dam in a river.”

“This is…” Tirk thought for a moment, “Not like a cup at all. Nuh-uh.”

Jiin laughed. “Bit hard t’drink outta a triangle, y’know?”

Jokes aside, the group got to it. Surprising everyone, Mayi got it on the first try.

“It’s not that hard,” she smirked, even as her Av faded from view, “It’s just four straight lines. If I didn’t have a hand steady enough for that, I could never be a doctor.”

Chime produced an Av symbol shortly after, followed by Jiin. All eyes fell on Tirk, who seemed to be struggling with it. Yenna was a little confused—his hand gestures weren’t exactly perfect, but they were good enough to produce an Av. A theory popped into the back of her head.

“Tirk, you’re drawing really close to your face. Can you try it a bit further away?”

The boy looked up at her with those uncanny black eyes of his, nodded and reached his hand out as far in front of him as he could manage. With his face scrunched up with concentration, Tirk managed to quite easily draw the Av.

“I did it! See?” Stepping forward to get a better look, the symbol blew away as though it couldn’t bear to be too close to Tirk. “Oh, I get it. It doesn’t like my horn.”

“Your horn…?” Yenna remembered checking his horn for unusual enchantments or magic, but detecting nothing. This time, she simply traced an Av symbol in front of him. The lines of her magic worked perfectly fine until she made the final connection that would complete the symbol—the moment her finger reached that point, the entire set of lines vanished. It was as though the symbol for repelling magic was itself being repelled. I’m going to have to look into that more, I think.

Yenna mentally added it to her growing list of research topics—the expedition crew alone seemed like they could have given a dedicated scholar years of study material. For now, she wasn’t willing to interrupt the magic lesson just to satisfy her curiosity. Still, as they returned to practicing, Yenna couldn’t help but wonder—Just who was Tirk? Where did the boy come from? Why did he seem to know things before they happened?

¹ - The Great General Yrkzhext is an unusual figure. A legendary silupker general, a subpar but prolific poet, and the supposed inventor of at least four different kinds of musical instruments, it is widely debated as to whether the general actually existed. Wildly varying accounts of the general’s victories, defeats, strategies and even appearance lend credence to a theory that the Great General is more of a persona than a singular entity, though others claim that Yrkzhext could change bodies or had figured out how to alter the primal clay that formed his being. The Great General’s own writings shed no light on who he was as a person, coming out as either vague metaphors, advice for suspiciously specific events, or musings on the ways a war may be won—preferably without bloodshed. Very strange people have begun to apply the Great General’s war strategems to everyday life, despite the express insinuation by Yrkzhext himself that war should never become an integral part of peace.