The tea house quieted down over the next couple of days as the townsfolk spent time with their friends and family for the impending Ciris Day. For the first time in a while, I had time for myself, though I wasn't quite sure what to do with it. I figured it would be a good idea to do some of the homework Carina had assigned me. Maybe that would help me make sense of everything going on.
I decided to head to the clearing Carina had taken me to before. My skepticism about the whole "waiting and listening" thing had been ruining my chances to properly examine my powers and refocus on the task at hand. But today, I was determined to give it an honest try.
With that, I planted myself down, crossed my legs, and closed my eyes.
I started by assessing the sounds around me. The babbling of the brook gradually shifted into the steady rush of a river. The rustling of leaves as a gentle breeze wound its way between them, carrying whispers of the forest's life. And...something new. A low hum, almost like the distant resonance of the aurora above. I wasn't sure if it was real or just my imagination, but I welcomed it.
Next, I turned my focus inward, checking in with my physical senses. The wind kissed my wings and played with the strands of my unbound hair, while the warmth of the late afternoon wrapped around me like a comforting embrace. I tried to concentrate on building energy behind my mind's eye, just as one of the many books Carina had lent me instructed.
Balancing all of this—listening to the world, feeling the elements, and focusing on the inner workings of my magic—wasn't easy. My mind kept drifting, pulling me in every direction at once. What was Seren doing right now? What would I eat later? Idris' hand entwined with mine the other night...
Push it out. Close the door. Throw away the key.
I returned to my breathing, forcing myself to listen again after the interruption. It was frustratingly hard to stay present, but I tried to visualize my powers, imagining them as an aura surrounding me. That image felt right—a rainbow screen of colours, shifting like the fractals I often saw in my visions. It shimmered and pulsed, like light filtering through a crystal.
I stayed with the image, letting it grow clearer in my mind. The rainbow aura expanded outward, slowly, as if testing its limits. But the more I focused, the more tangible it felt, as though it was tethered to something beyond me. My energy didn't feel chaotic anymore. It was flowing, purposeful, reaching for something just out of sight.
Then, something shifted. Ringing sounded in my ears, and I felt a faint but undeniable surge of power. My heart skipped a beat. This was new.
For a moment, the world around me seemed to blur, the clearing and the forest fading into the background, leaving just me and the energy. I opened my eyes, half-expecting to see something different, and there it was—the fractals, swirling in my vision again. My heart leapt, but I quickly stifled the excitement. I couldn't afford to scare this fragile control away. Maybe that wasn't even possible, but I didn't want to risk it.
This vision felt different, though. I saw beasts weaving through the forest, and birds scattering from the treetops in a frenzy. Then, the gruesome sight of a bear-like creature appeared, lying on its side, ribs exposed, entrails spilling out. It looked like something had torn into it. The vision shifted again, showing a spot on the far side of the clearing, where a large rock was firmly rooted. And then, just as quickly, the images faded, and I pulled back into reality.
This time, there was no emotion attached to the vision. Normally, I would feel everything—grief, joy, and fear coursing through me as I experienced these moments. But this... this was just a stark, empty showing. Still, something pulled me, a sense that I needed to follow through.
I fluttered across the clearing, crossing the stream with ease. As I neared the boulder, I noticed the signs—fallen trees, flattened grass, like something large had passed through. Then, without warning, it was as if an unseen hand turned my head. My gaze snapped to a trail of blood cutting through the underbrush. The stench hit me before I could fully register the sight—rot, decay. My stomach churned, and I gagged at the smell. But something kept pushing me forward, a quiet urgency guiding my steps.
I hadn't realized I had drawn my dagger until I felt its weight in my hand. Good—at least my instincts were still sharp. There was no feeling of being watched, no creeping sense of danger. If there had been, I wouldn't have stuck around to investigate. But this...this was different. I knew there was something I needed to see.
And then, just like in my vision, I found the bear. The same creature, now lying lifeless in front of me. Confusion swept over me. Why was I seeing something from the past and not the future? I covered my nose with my arm, trying to block out the stench as I braced myself against a nearby tree.
In an instant, the vision returned, showing me the attack. The beast, claws tearing into the creature, ripping it apart in the night. I stumbled back, breaking free from the vision, the horror of the scene still clung to me. But even more unsettling was the realization that dawned on me.
The trees had shown me. They had watched it happen, and they shared it with me. But why? What was the purpose? I needed to speak with Carina. And fast.
☾
"Interesting," Carina tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Well, first off, congratulations on inducing a vision. I'm impressed with how quickly you were able to pick it up. Secondly," she paused, rifling through drawers trying to locate whatever for an order that was to be picked up. "I agree with you, I do think the very nature around you noticed you tuned into their frequency. It is incredible, truly. You know, I have always talked to trees, believing they could hear me. Glad to know I'm not senile."
"Yeah, well now I feel like the senile one. Just one touch had information flowing to me. Like a storm surge crashing into my mind."
My thoughts drifted to that night with Idris. The vision he had seen upon contact.
"There is one more thing," I wrung the considerable length of my hair, weaving the locks through my fingers. "The other night- I had a vision. Nothing unusual. But- Idris saw a part of it when he laid his hand on mine. Like I...or he was a conduit."
Carina's eyes widened in surprise. "Is that so?" I nodded.
"I suppose given your experience with the tree, it could entirely just be a part of your abilities?"
"I don't know."
"Keep in mind, I don't know either, dear. I haven't dealt with your ilk before. I know seers, yes, but you are something entirely different."
I forgot about that little detail. She was as oblivious as I, it was unfair for me to assume she was some sort of encyclopedia on all things strange.
"You're right. Thank you for being here, though. It is nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of."
"What about Seren? I thought you two were close." Carina replied, tying twine around the parcel. A knot formed in my chest.
"We are, we are," I reassured Carina...or myself. "I just never want to add to her plate. She's so busy with the tea house especially now that I am taking time to train."
It was true, we are close. Or are we? I haven't exactly been honest with her about everything. Perhaps that's why there's always some disconnect– she is keen enough to stare at me just a second too long whenever I share tidbits about what I've been doing.
"Oh, so you'll just add to mine?" Carina chided. Before I could apologize, she stopped me. "I'm just bugging you, dear. I am happy to help. Just don't forget to lean on others too. Multiple perspectives are always to be valued." She handed the package to me.
"You're right," I agreed.
"Alright, well, I'll be closed for tomorrow during Ciris day. I will see you soon. Please take this to Arwel since it's on your way."
"No problem. Thank you again."
"Bye, now." She said warmly.
I toyed with the idea of explaining myself to Seren and what that would look like. She would undoubtedly try to understand, but a nagging fear whispered that voicing this information might put her and the others at risk. In the past, I'd never been so reserved with my friends. They often brushed off my anxieties, calling me paranoid as they laughed off my concerns. I could still hear their dismissive words echoing in my mind, and it felt strangely invalidating. My hands tightened around the parcel.
I collided with a body, Arwel's package flying out of my grasp as I scrambled to pick it up.
"I'm so sorry-" I shot to my feet. Arwel's smiling face came into focus.
"You just live in a different world, don't you? Lights are always on, but nobody's home."
Too real, Arwel.
"Whatcha got there?" he looked to the parcel.
"Oh! It's yours." I extended it to him. "Carina wanted me to give it to you."
"Sweet. I've been waiting for this."
He gestured for me to walk with him.
Arwel shot me a sidelong glance, I pretended I didn't see it out of my peripherals.
As we walked together, Arwel gave me another glance, this time more direct. "You're quieter than usual," he commented, stuffing the parcel under his other arm.
I gave him a small smile, but my mind was still racing with thoughts. "Just... thinking," I admitted. "A lot on my plate lately."
Arwel snorted. "Aren't we all? But you—well, you've got that glazed-over look again, like you're seeing something we aren't." He followed with a gesture wiggling his fingers mockingly.
"Maybe I am," I replied cryptically, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
Arwel raised an eyebrow. "Something you want to share?"
I hesitated, unsure of how much I should reveal. The vision, the connection with the trees, the unsettling feeling of being a conduit for something larger—it all felt like too much to dump on anyone right now.
"Not sure how to explain it," I finally said, avoiding his gaze.
Arwel nodded slowly as if he could read between the lines. "You've always been a bit of an enigma, you know that? But hey, whatever's got you tied up in knots, just know you don't have to keep it all locked up. Not with me, anyway."
I smiled a little more genuinely this time. "Thanks, Arwel. That actually means a lot."
He shrugged. "I mean it. And don't worry about being a little weird—who isn't these days?"
As we continued walking, the weight on my shoulders felt a little lighter. Even if I couldn't fully explain what was going on, Arwel's easygoing nature and willingness to listen made me feel less alone in it. Maybe, in time, I could confide in him–to all of them—or at least share the burden of the unknown.
"You're not so bad yourself," I teased, bumping his shoulder. "Even if you do make fun of me constantly."
Arwel laughed. "Wouldn't be me if I didn't."
Arwel suggested I come up with him to his place and then we would both make our way to Seren's together. His apartment was a reflection of his laid-back, somewhat nomadic lifestyle, blending rugged charm with a touch of eccentricity. Located by the river that cleaved through Duskhold, the space had a cozy, lived-in feel. The wooden beams of the ceiling were darkened with age, and the walls, made from stone, bore the marks of time and weather. Light filtered in through tall, narrow windows, casting a soft, warm glow across the room.
His furniture was a mismatched collection of items, each with its own story. A well-worn leather armchair, its surface cracked and softened by use, sat by the hearth, where I imagined a small fire often crackled in the evenings. A low table, hand-carved with intricate designs, held an assortment of odd trinkets.
The walls were adorned with maps—some old, others hand-drawn, and a few with pins marking places of significance. Next to them hung a couple of weapons, including a worn sword and a bow, alongside a few tattered scrolls that looked ancient and valuable.
Books were scattered everywhere, on shelves, tables, and even the floor, covering a range of subjects from history to magic to obscure folklore. A large window, draped with deep green fabric, overlooked the bustling streets of Duskhold.
Despite the clutter, there was a certain order to the chaos. Arwel clearly knew where everything was, even if it looked haphazard to anyone else. Plants, some thriving and others not, lined the windowsill, adding a splash of green to the earthy tones of the room.
In the corner, a makeshift desk was cluttered with sketches and half-written notes, while a small workbench housed a few projects in various states of completion, hinting at Arwel's interest in tinkering or crafting. The air smelled faintly of wood smoke, herbs, and whatever he had cooked for lunch.
The overall effect was a place that felt like home for someone who had wandered the world, collecting pieces of it and making them his own.
He set the parcel on the table, loosing a small knife from his pocket to cut the twine. A strangely familiar skunky scent wafted from the open package. No way.
"What's that?"
"Mirthleaf." He said with a roguish grin. "For the festivities tonight."
He opened a drawer, retrieved a grinder and jar, then placed bits of flower within it, twisting and mincing.
"Come to the balcony." He ordered.
The balcony had cushioned wicker chairs, a small table between them, and a plush rug beneath it. I sunk into the chair, bringing my knees to my chest. He began packing a wooden pipe with the mirthleaf.
"Ever tried it?" Arwel asked as he moved to light a match.
"Something like it." I smiled to myself, remembering the quiet nights after work, or the times my old friends and I would spark up, hoping their parents wouldn't come outside.
Arwel lit the pipe, the plant embered and glowed, as he inhaled heavily. A plume of smoke surrounded us as he handed me the pipe and a match. Hello, old friend.
Just when I struck the match, burning what was left in the bowl, a vision attempted to breach my consciousness. The smoke settled in my lungs, tightening my chest as I held a long breath, and then slowly exhaled. My body sang at the release despite the coughing, a buzz immediately taking the reigns of my senses, the fractals of the oncoming vision disappearing entirely. Two things I missed from Earth were weed and cigarettes. I was thankful I had found at least one of them. Vices are vices, yes–but I am grateful for some sort of escape from all of the stress, even for a moment.
Arwel leaned back, propping his feet up on the small table between us, the embers of the pipe glowing softly. "Not bad, huh?" he asked, watching me as I passed the pipe back to him.
I nodded, a soft laugh escaping me. "Yeah, it's been a while. Didn't expect to find anything like this here."
Arwel chuckled, filling the bowl once more and took another puff. "Duskhold's got more than it seems. You just have to know where to look. You get lost in the trees, sometimes you find something good."
I glanced out over the balcony, feeling the warmth of the buzz settle into my muscles. The noise of the world outside faded, leaving only the quiet murmur of the river below and the rustling of leaves. "You ever feel like... there's too much happening all at once? That things are spiralling, and you're just trying to keep up?"
Arwel exhaled a long stream of smoke, thoughtful for a moment. "All the time," he admitted. "But I've learned something. You can't control everything. Sometimes, you've just gotta ride the current, let it take you where it wants to go."
I took in his words, staring into the soft glow of the horizon. "I wish it were that easy. I feel like I'm fighting the current more often than not."
Arwel passed the pipe back to me. "That's the thing—fighting it wears you down. You end up wasting energy on things you can't change. I'm not saying don't swim against it sometimes, but..." He shrugged. "Pick your battles. The current's not always your enemy."
I looked down at the pipe, the weight of his words heavier than the smoke that filled my lungs. Maybe he was right. Maybe I needed to let go of some of the pressure I'd been putting on myself. The visions, the responsibilities, the uncertainty—they were all part of the same current, and trying to control them all was exhausting.
Arwel watched me for a moment before leaning back in his chair again. "You've got a lot on your plate, I get it. But don't forget, Elyse, you're not alone in this. You've got people around you who've got your back. Even if we're all a little messed up in our own ways."
I smiled, feeling the tension in my chest ease just a little. "Thanks, Arwel. I'll try to keep that in mind."
"Good," he said, grinning as he settled into his chair. "Now stop thinking so hard and enjoy the moment for once, yeah? Life's too long to be serious all the time."
I nodded, leaning back into the chair, allowing myself to sink into the moment. Maybe, just for tonight, I could let the current carry me.
Rustling and footsteps came from inside. The balcony door slid open as a handsome, bed-headed Idris came outside, rubbing his head as surprise lit his eyes at my being here.
"Hey," Arwel greeted as he packed another. "Want some?"
"I'm good," Idris said, leaning on the railing. "Didn't know we had company or I would have been up." He kicked Arwel's chair.
"I figured you'd want to enjoy your nap, princess."
Idris sat on the floor. "Ha-ha."
"I didn't know you lived together," I commented.
"Yeah, I rolled into town last year. We were fast friends and I had an extra room when I moved into this place. Idris' was never at his own place, so we figured we might as well room together so he wasn't wasting a perfectly good home for someone else to be in. Kind of like you and Seren now that I think about it." Arwel explained.
True enough, I supposed. I wondered why he was never home, and what he did when he wasn't hanging out with everyone. Physically, I had to stop myself from checking Idris out. That perfectly messy hair, his handsome face, god, the way his arms looked in that shirt had me reeling. I felt like a rabies-ridden animal frothing at the mouth. I reached for the pipe.