The First Land Herald/450-03-37
| Article Number: 104 |
| Dateline: 450-03-37 |
| THE GARDENER'S TALE Recently, Waydren invited Warrior Mages, Bards, Empaths, and Rangers to come together in order to address the breaches in the Plane of Abiding. We met outside Leth Deriel, in a spot that Liraxes had previously indicated would be ideal for casting sorcery to improve Balance. Lupdels began by welcoming everyone to the event and explaining the premise of what they planned to enact. He said that our previous beseech attempts showed how Elanthia used to be and that Elanthia has since been wounded. Based on Liraxes' recommendations, they believed that particular location was a weak spot that would be vulnerable to a buildup of extraplanar presence, and thus sought to mend this "wound." (Liraxes, however, later clarified that the location had no particular planar weakness.) "In the past, elementalists have used Othersight to pierce the barriers between planes. Probing the Aetheric foundation of the planes to drive holes and bridge the planes. Now, we will do the opposite," Lupdels said. "I will use Othersight to search for the fractures, the wounds, in the Aether here. And together, we will heal it."
"Empaths can heal disease without culling or amputation. Rangers can cause blighted plants to decay into compost and nourish the field," Kethrai said. "These are the gifts we receive and can grant in turn, with magic properly wielded. Today our Elementalists will try to do the same." Waydren then directed the Rangers to cast Embed the Cycle and River in the Sky before offering a gift to Elanthia -- such as planting a seed, acorn, or a small plant. Lupdels instilled in himself the very essence of aether by casting Echoes of Aether, and then began humming a few bars, pausing in between to listen for a response. "For Bards, Othersight is like listening to the sound of the Aether. Feeling it within you, feeling it without you. Reverberating across the area," Lupdels said. "Aether is foundational to all things. Picking out just the Aether is like focusing on a single instrument played among an orchestra." According to Saragos, he (as well as other Elementalists) reached out to probe the mana streams, searching for the Aether that knit the Plane of Abiding together. Shifting, brilliant radiance overwhelmed his senses, twisting and ensconcing his entire surroundings. The weave of Aether kinked and furled before him in familiar ways, ebbing and flowing like a knitted tide that covered as far as the eye could see, with no new gaps or bare threads that were glaringly obvious to his senses. A faint hiss built, a steady static that built with a pressure. At the same time, I, as well as the other Life magic users present, received a vision: At the edges of my perception, I found my connection to Elanthia still lingering, as if it never truly left me. A sense of a pure, verdant, serene planet surrounded me, and my vision slowly adjusted. I saw myself at the foot of a tall lifesculpted spire that crossed two strong-moving rivers, in a glade encircled by a tall canopy of trees. The form of a large orange dragon settled at the base of the spire, towering over me, before hunching itself low, twisting and shifting until it resembled a feminine humanoid form. She walked toward where I stood, as if aware of my presence, and paused thoughtfully. My gaze looked down, and I saw two small hands. She planted a hand on the crest of my forehead, and whispered words that were not audible -- and yet I knew them. "You will be one of my Gardeners." At her touch, the world twisted, and shaped before me. In moments, I experienced flickers of memories and experiences. I found myself shaping creation to my whim, gesturing and twisting nature into an elegant, harmonious design, but found myself depleted each time -- a gnawing hunger filling my being, as I pulled from each available mana stream and exhausted its limitations. Years -- decades -- centuries passed in moments, and yet I found that hunger welling deeper and deeper with each use -- insatiable and endless. I reached to broader areas for mana, and was more selective as time passed, but the hunger did not abate. Focusing on the hunger, I discovered that the only fulfillment I could achieve was by consuming raw, pure mana in immense quantity. In time, I found the thread of new streams of mana just beyond my reach. I called to it, and it did not answer -- and yet the hunger grew, as did my desperation. It took painful ages, but in that time, I discovered a way to grasp that mana -- by pulling something new inside the paradise. My senses were overwhelmed as I reached out, deliberately slicing into the knitted strands that protected the plane, and forced the new threads of mana through, building a new weave. In that moment, I felt more powerful than ever -- and the hunger was sated. Boundless creation followed, and I found myself pushing each of my limits. Time sped up as I watched creation become even more intricate. And yet -- time slowed until I could focus on a single feeling -- a single moment inside a single vision. The humanoid had returned. Again, I did not understand her words, but I instinctually was familiar with her meaning -- rejection. Failure. With another touch, I was unmade, and in that moment, I became acutely aware that I was accused of poisoning the purity of this world. In the unmaking, my consciousness became attached to a speck of dirt inside a beam of light beneath the canopy that surrounded a now-withering spire, helpless to watch as my creations slowly were undone as a consequence of my actions inside a null prison for what appeared to be an eternity. I watched from the outside as the humanoid crafted a new being -- similar to the one I experienced, except fundamentally different in one fundamental purpose. Where I had experienced the memories of a Gardener, these new creations warded against the fear of rot. Again, I experienced time pass in epochs as Elanthia would, watching the verdant glory tarnish, fade, and wilt, and with a feeling of dread, I could not help but know that something had been beckoned through. I felt pain as war ravaged the planet, and time slowed to one horrible moment -- when hundreds of these new creations were locked in battle with an incomprehensible outside force. In a flash, one invoked words that had terrible meaning -- and at the expense of the verdant life, it rent everything I considered beautiful into a desiccated wasteland, leaving innumerable creators and their creations joining the soul of the planet. My vision abruptly returned to normal, leaving me disoriented. According to Lupdels, he felt the Othersight fading and the pressure abating, disappearing into a lingering memory, like a song he could not quite remember the words to. He closed his eyes, opening up his senses to what could be perceived in that area. He recalled an ancient battle in a place that had a forgotten name -- hundreds of thousands dying against swarms of dead and demons. He recalled a time of magic and wonder as humanity brought an age of heroism. He recalled having heard songs of this before. Opening his eyes, he found himself humming notes that he could not place, from a tune he could not quite remember. Madigan (as well as other holy magic users) felt a warmth of inspiration in his soul, as if comforted that the Immortals had shepherded him to that point. He was unclear of the purpose of that feeling but found it to be significant. As we dispersed, the weight of the visions lingered. We had witnessed the consequences of unchecked power, the fragility of balance, and the enduring spirit of Elanthia. Lupdels offered a sobering reminder of the long history leading up to this point. "Elanthia's deep history has been revealed to us at several events, including this one," he said. "If there is a war between entities, be they Immortals or Heralds or others, this conflict may go back further than any one of us can imagine. As they say, when the elephants fight, the grass gets trampled." After careful analysis of the visions, Waydren proposed an integrated theory. "My conclusion from what we have seen is that the Heralds themselves, or those who were originally Heralds before lessers were created, are the very ones in their greed who opened the holes from inside to out, and brought ruin upon the world they were supposed to cultivate." Our journey had been one of discovery, of understanding the interconnectedness of our world. And though we found no glaring breaches to mend in our plane, we embarked on a deeper exploration of ourselves and our place within it. The work of safeguarding our realm remains, but we left Leth Deriel with a renewed sense of purpose and a deeper understanding of the challenges ahead. Yours in pursuit of truth, Illiya |
| Real Date: Unknown Date |
| Subject(s): Wild Magic |
| Author(s): Illiya |