As the first day of the week dawns bright and early to find you removing a makeshift bandage from your knuckles and washing them in a nearby stream. Unfortunately, the stream is not deep enough for proper bathing, so you have to use a cloth to rub yourself down. It is a peaceful morning, and you are making plans for your coming week. You want to tan the hides you got a few weeks ago, they have been preserved and are drying. You are beginning to run low on both food and salt, you had brought salt as part of your supplies, but you are reaching the last of it now. You curse yourself for not thinking to buy some while you were on your trip for the Werewolves. What is done is done. You should spend the time you have before you run out of supplies preparing your hide; if necessary, you can trade them later on.
You had stored the hides in one of the small rooms on the first floor. You had also left the material you would be using to tan them in a makeshift barrel. You are not looking forward to this, it is going to be a long, smelly job. You begin by cutting away the fur on the hides. Then you reduce the tanning material to a slurry using a long stick you found. It is a process that takes an hour, due to the width of the stick you are using. You do all this outside to prevent the smell filling the sleeping area. The hides are then submerged in the barrels, which are then sealed. They will be left for a full day before you smoke them. You put the waiting time to good use, preparing the frame you will be stretching the hides over while they are smoking. It is a process that only takes a few of the hours you have to spend. While you are working you consider what you are going to do with the leather you are making. Then you remember the other tasks you have to do and never get round to making a decision.
Your tanning project is going to take twenty four hours before the next step, Ranger is still staying at the ruins, even uncursed. You recall his offer of friendship and see no harm in taking him up on his offer of conversation. It will pass the time if nothing else. With the curse broken Ranger is now a human male, grey haired and moustached. He has a broad flat nose and deep set eyes that still glitter with the savagery of his wolf form.
As you approach him, he chuckles, "Couldn't stay away kid? Guess I did invite ya. Come, sit by ma fire. Yer not gettin' any food though. Selfish brat"
You let your teacher's insult pass you by. "You have my thanks for the offer. If it causes you no offence, I would prefer to stand."
"Suit yerself. What're ya after." He says.
"In truth I was wondering about you. I am led to believe that you lost your memories while you were cursed. Given that the curse is now lifted I would know who my teacher is exactly."
Ranger does not answer immediately. The silence seems to stretch out for longer than the few minutes it truly is.
Finally he speaks. "Ya don't exactly ask the easy questions kid. 'S why I like ya, but it ain't gonna make this easy."
You do not speak, letting him gather his thoughts. When he has done so he begins to tell you his tale.
"'Spose I should start with what ya already know. I've been a hunter most of ma life, lernt from ma pa and he from his, so on. I was born back when Ferelden was still part o' Orlais. I got picked up by one o' their lords or whatever they call them. Worked for him for most of ma youth. 'Twere a good job, forester or somethin' like that."
Ranger stares into his fire, his eyes distant and mind on events long passed. "Met a girl doin' that. Don't right recall what she did or why she were in the castle. Don't matter much, point is we did what young'uns do and got hitched. Had a bunch o' kids, Markus, Sammy and li'l 'Tilda. We were happy, mostly anyhow. Then the war happened. Markus joined up with tha' king. Sammy got levied by the Orelsians. Tried to follow him, volunteered as a scout, but the lord weren't calling any up. Too old for the frontline he said. So I stayed back. Never saw either again. The missus didn't take it too well, 'Tilda moved back in with her husband ta take care o' her. We weren't liked much, Orelesian toadies everyone reckoned. But I'm a good hunter, kept us all fed and clothed. Then I met one a them wolves."
Ranger falls silent. You contemplate asking for more details, but you decide against it. There is simply no way that tale ends well, if it had he would have returned to his family by now. Whether they are dead, gone or something worse, is none of your business
After a long moment of solemn silence, Ranger shakes himself and stands up. "That's enough mopin'. Let's get to somethin'. You wanna go huntin' or ya got some fancy idea in your head?"
There is nothing that you would like to do that you think Ranger would enjoy. His proposal of a hunting trip offers you a chance to learn as well as being something he enjoys.
"I have no better ideas. We shall go hunting." You inform your teacher.
He grins savagely, his eyes glittering with excitement. You gather your hunting gear, mostly simply removing your armour and cloak and picking up your bow. When you meet him, Ranger is clad in a green gambeson with leather pauldrons. In his hands is a tall bow, a set of arrows at his side. Unlike you he carries no sword, but he does have a dagger.
"Ya ready kid?" He asks you.
"I am prepared for our trip. I would also ask that you cease referring to me as a child." You reply.
His habitual use of 'kid' when speaking to you is more amusing than annoying for now, but you see it wearing on you if it continues.
His lips twist into a grin. "Anyone ever told ya they ya speak like an Orlesian pri..." He trails off again before starting again with a different word. "Noble brat? Not gonna stop callin' ya a kid till ya earn it. Kid."
That is a challenge you have no intention of leaving unanswered.
Unfortunately, the departure of the werewolves has not yet registered with the local animal populace. You are on the verge of giving up, unwilling to waste your entire day hunting, when Ranger suggest you go to one of his 'secret spots'. The spot in question turns out to be a sizable pond, hidden beneath a copse of closely packed trees. Here a number of small animals are gathered to drink, protected by the thick trees. The only way in is over the trees, which you and Ranger manage without too much trouble. You take a moment to marvel at the sight before you, the water and the trees make for a striking image. The fact that there are a number of small, cute animals drinking from the pond only enhances the peaceful image.
"So, what're ya thinkin'? I reckon I could go for a brace o' rabbits personally." Ranger it seems is unaffected by the sight.
"Do you have no appreciation for the peace before you?" You ask.
"Sure, first time I saw it. Now it's just another hunting spot." Your teacher responds.
You look over the hidden clearing and all the animals within and are amazed. Obviously, the scene pulls on something in you quendi heart, the Moriquendi did not choose to stay in Arda because they liked being lesser than the Calaquendi after all. Beneath that surface level admiration, you also find yourself in awe of the skill on display. Finding this spot alone would be impressive, given how well it is hidden, but to maintain this level of animal population while still hunting it would be a delicate balancing act. You want to know his secrets, to find out how he found this place and how he maintains it. That is not why you are here though. You came here with Ranger to be his friend, and you have a challenge to answer.
You turn to Ranger and, grinning, say, "I bet gutting, cleaning and cooking duties that I can incapacitate that white squirrel with a stone before you can."
The animal in question is a small example of its kind, white as snow and a beautiful specimen. It is also easily the fastest member of squirreldom you have ever seen.
Ranger's smile stretches across his face. "Yer on, kid."
Scoop up a stone lying nearby and, before Ranger can react, send it flying towards the target. Unfortunately, you speed is your undoing, you had not aimed your throw properly. The stone thunks into a tree and startles all the animals in the clearing. They scatter, running for the trees in a mad rush. You manage to acquire a second stone but there is never a sufficient window for you to hit the squirrel and you do not want to kill another animal. It would feel against the spirit of the challenge. As you look for an opportunity a low thrum starts to fill the air. It grows faster and faster, being joined by the whistle of something being swung through the air. Suddenly there is a snap, and a stone blurs past you to slam into the white squirrel. Its neck is snapped, and it thuds into a tree, its body being left behind as the rest of the animals vanish into the forest. You turn to see ranger dangling a leather pouch on a pair of long cords. You do not recognise the weapon, though it is obvious that is what it is.
Ranger's grin has turned smug. "Never heard of a sling kid?"
You shake your head. "No, I have not."
Ranger looks genuinely shocked by your comment. He spends the time you are gutting, cleaning and cooking the dead squirrel praising the sling to high heaven. In truth it sounds incredibly useful, it would have given you a ranged weapon when you had only one hand. Though you do admit you likely would have struggled to load such a weapon. The overly enthusiastic praise of Ranger's weapon, combined with the thrill of competition and the crackling fire creates a very relaxed atmosphere. Much of the sorrow that had hung over the both of you since Ranger's sad tale was told dissipates. You and Ranger eat food and sing songs around the campfire, Ranger complaining about the lack of alcohol. Despite your best attempts you cannot get Ranger to dance, you will never understand why humans are so hesitant about dancing; but out of respect for him you refrain from doing so yourself. Kano had always theorised that they were the equivalent of tone deaf but for dancing, Pityo had always insisted that they were just incapable of fun. These memories of happier days make you smile, even as you make new memories with your new friend.
Once you have set your leather on the rack to smoke, you have some time to spend. You are idly considering how best to spend the hours it will take for the process to complete when Merrill runs into the room clutching a number of instruments of glass and brass. She starts placing them down around you, muttering to herself about numbers and variables.
"Student, what exactly are you doing?" You ask.
"One moment." Merrill says to you, adjusting several of the devices. "I'm setting up the experiment."
You look at her in confusion for a moment, then you recall that she had mentioned needing you for an experiment. "Oh yes. I remember. What is this experiment?"
Merrill finishes drawing something on the ground with chalk before she replies. "Theoretically one can reach the Beyond physically, but only by mages. The thing that distinguishes mages from normal people is fade energy, Lyrium can refill a mages store of fade energy. It's poisonous to normal people though so it needs to not be ingested." Merrill is starting to lose you as she begins to get more technical in her description.
"So here." Then she hands you a potion
You look at the muddy brown sludge in the vial then back at Merrill. "I did not understand that. I am not drinking this until you explain to me what it does."
Merrill flushes and babbles, "Ah that potion should theoretically channel fade energies. The rest is mostly safety or the sources of the fade energy that the potion channels. If you drink it, you should be able to act as a mage temporarily, then we could take you to the beyond physically and reunite you with your soul."
You look Merrill in the eye, searching for deceit or doubt. You find none.
"Then I will trust in your craftsmanship." You say, then you tip the potion into your mouth and drink it.
The potion feels like mud. It tastes worse. When you lower the flask, you find yourself looking at a world tinged green by the sky. Great black pillars of twisted stone thrust upwards from the barren ground. There is a heavy atmosphere of solemn quiet, and between the black columns you see what appear to be tombs, or possibly ornately decorated blocks of stone. Unlike the times you have visited the unseen world before you are not glowing. Looking at yourself you realise that Merrill's potion seems to have worked better than she expected, you are physically in the fade. You wait for fifteen minutes, expecting her to have followed you, but she does not appear. As you wait you become aware of a constant whispering, just on the edge of your hearing. You also notice shadows moving in the corner of your eyes, only to vanish when you turn to see what they were. After the third time you whirl quickly to try and catch them a woman begins to giggle. You do not know what to do, if you should wait for Merrill or not. You decide to
You move to one of the twisted black pillars. You walk around it a few times, exploring to see if there is anything to it beyond stone. When you are certain that it is only what it seems to be, you place your back against it and sit down. The giggling you hear intensifies as you do so, but you ignore it. You focus not on the world around you, even as grass slowly grows where you sit, but on the underlying energies. At first glance they seem too tied up in the reality of this plane of exitance to be traced. You are not fooled. Mages derive their power from this energy which clings to them when they leave. The energy must, therefore, be at least partially free floating. You close your eyes to better focus on your non-physical senses, only to snap open again. The moment your eyes had closed, you had heard the sound of running. You look all around you, noting the increasing numbers of shadows in your periphery, but you see nothing. Slowly you close your eyes again, the footsteps do not return and even the giggling slowly dies away. You take a deep breath and dedicate yourself to studying the unseen's energies.
At first your focus is constantly disrupted by the return of the strange sounds that seem to haunt the Beyond. The slowly, minute by minute, you sink into a meditative trace which allows you to focus on the energy around you. It is like nothing you have ever experienced. If you were to have been pressed on the topic you would have said that the unseen was made of conceptual energy, the energy that tells things what they are on a metaphysical level. This is not the case here; this energy is more about what could be than what is. You waste little time in classifying it as the energy of potentiality, as distinct from potential energy. Fundamentally, this energy is nothing, but it could be anything. It is also extremely potent, relative to your own power. Something that might take you a great deal of effort can be achieved with relatively little of this energy. What fascinates you the most is the way that its potential interacts with the concepts that form the backbone of Eldar arts. It is almost eager to shape itself to conform to your understanding of what something should be. You are on the verge of experimenting with this revelation when you are startled from your trance by a voice.
"Oh my. Are you lost handsome? Did you wander too far from home and can't get back?" The voice asks, attempting to be seductive.
You open your eyes to see a hideous caricature of a woman. If the purple grey skin and flaming hair was not mockery enough, the great twisting horns would reveal her inhumanity to even the most blind. Its face is clearly attempting a gentle smile, but you can only see an echo of Morgoth's taunting face. None of this is the worst part of it. You feel the cloying sensation of dark magic, so thick it threatens to choke you, and you know this thing by its name. Desire, but so twisted and distorted that even your father's obsessions seem healthy by comparison.
"What in the name of he who is above all allowed you to exist?" Your immense command of language fails completely to express the depths of your horror.
Once more the creature tries to twist its mangled form into something desirable, or perhaps it was aiming for cute. "Oh deary, please don't. I know that the circle tells you such terrible things about us, but it's not true."
You are silent, watching in horror much like one might watch the scene of some terrible accident.
The creature seems to misinterpret your silence as enchantment as it starts to move closer to you. "I only want to give people the things they want. And you my dear, want so badly. Come, tell me what you want, let me help you."
The irony of it all is that the creature is right. You want a great many things, and there have been times in your life where you were willing to go to extreme lengths to get them.
Unfortunately right now, you only want one thing. "Please stop existing."
The creature flinches backwards as if struck, then its face takes on a terrible cast and it lunges towards you.
The world shatters around you and you fall backwards. Even as the physical world comes to dominate your senses once more you hear an ear piecing screech of pain. Presumably the creature has run into the light of Valinor and, if you are lucky, died. As you steady yourself, readjusting to the feeling of disconnect you experience in this world. You realise that your time in the Beyond has been beneficial, you have become aware of the energy of potentiality swirling throughout the world, physical and otherwise. You instinctively reach out for the connections that bind all things in this world to each other. Even as you do so you can feel the threads of energy twisting and changing, you have but moments to find and grasp hold of them. Taking the energy into yourself is impossible, your nature rejects it. Fortunately, you have no intention of taking the energy into yourself. You manipulate the energy where it lies, at first it twists and bends under your 'grip' and you feel the improbable becoming certain. That is not what you are after, being 'lucky' is nice but you need something else. With the thoughts of the ever twisting realm of horrors still firmly in your mind, you press the concept of Reality into the energy.
The energy is, as you have noticed before, only too willing to accept your demands to change. You also notice that unlike your attempts at the arts of your people there is no sensation of resistance from the detachment of your soul. You presume this is due to its nature as native to the realm, or perhaps because you are not calling on energy from your soul. Regardless of the cause the energy of potentiality stills beneath your will, then changes. Instead of being raw potential it becomes a conceptual reinforcement of whatever it is that it currently inhabits. Stones go from being simply stones due to the happenstance of material arrangement in the physical world to being stones inherently, no more capable of changing their nature than you are. You are immensely pleased with yourself for all of a minute before the concepts unravel and the energy of potentiality returns to its usual course. You have to maintain a constant flow of direction to the energy if you do not want it to revert to its natural state.
Your concentration is interrupted by the sound of glass cracking. You look over to where Merrill is. She has staggered backwards from where she was trying to help you and stepped on an instrument. She is staring at her hands in shock and disbelief. As the sense of reality fades away her hands glow with what you recognise as healing magic. You feel embarrassed when you realise that you had been enforcing reality on Merrill's energy as well as that of your surroundings.
"My apologies. I have recently had a revelation about the energies of the Beyond and applied them without thinking the consequences through. I hope you were not too distressed." You tell her, your tone contrite.
Merrill looks at you, fear creeping onto her face and into her voice. "What did you do?"
"While I was within the Beyond, I spent time studying the energy that enables your magic. While I discovered that, due to my nature, I will never be able to hold a reservoir within me as you do. I can manipulate it. All I did was apply the concept of reality to the energy and it went from being usable energy of potential to being a reinforcement of reality. As a result, I suspect you lost your reserves of energy as the world around you became more resistant to it."
Merrill's fear in now being mixed with something else, awe perhaps. "You mean to tell me you discovered the secret to Templar powers?"
"I thought the Templar were the guards of the circle, I did not know they had powers. It is not what I was doing either, the point of this is that I should be able to force the Beyond to conform to reality as I understand it. I hope I do not need to explain the benefits of that to you." You inform your student.
"You turned my magic off, that's the ability the Templar use to control mages. You used your understanding of magic to do so?" Merrill runs over to her notes and starts to scribble away furiously. "This is amazing, we have a point of common experience to compare with now. Ah! If only I could talk to a Templar about their abilities. Oh. This also explain the Lyrium, if they're still using fade energy then…"
Merrill suddenly trails off and blushes. "Ahem, ah. Are you alright? I didn't think you'd disappear like that, and I don't know what it might have done."
You cannot help yourself, you burst out into laughter. You do eventually have to assure her you are fine, as she runs over with healing magic on her hands to treat your 'hysterical madness' in a panic. Your student's priorities never fail to both amuse you with her dedication to knowledge above all else and hearten you with her care for others.