Six
Brushing off her lingering frustration from the dismal Runes class, Kara steeled herself for her afternoon class, which was Rituals. To say she was apprehensive about it would be an understatement. She descended into the underground classroom, her curiosity rising with each step. The polished stone walls of the Nest above gradually transitioned to packed earth as she went deeper, with crawling vines and roots sprouting from small cracks and crevices. The earthy scent of herbs and rich soil filled the air, along with the faint lullaby of flowing water somewhere in the shadows ahead.
Stepping into the heart of the chamber, Kara found herself enveloped by a soft blue glow – bioluminescent fungi clung to the ceiling, sending dancing shadows across the curved earthen walls. Symbols and patterns were carved into the floor beneath her feet. And at the very centre, atop a raised platform, stood an altar draped in shimmering white cloth and adorned with an assortment of bowls brimming with dried herbs and plants.
An inexplicable calm saturated the room, and Kara felt some of the ever-present tension in her shoulders begin to unknot. This subterranean place felt oddly soothing, welcoming, so unlike the pervading hostility that permeated the Nest above.
The quiet hum of conversation swelled as other novitiates filtered down the stairs, gathering in a loose circle around the central altar. The instructor emerged from an adjoining tunnel. She had silver-blonde hair woven with glittering beads, and her clothing was embroidered with flowering vines in shining gold thread. She introduced herself as Saenin, her lilting voice warm and lively.
"As you all know, we honour the four great seasonal celebrations," Saenin began, surveying the sea of attentive faces. "Yule, Ostara, Litha, and Mabon, the solstices and equinoxes. And the four midpoint Sabbats between them are Samhain, Imbolc, Beltane, and Lammas. Together, these eight sacred days comprise the very foundation of ritual magic. They tie us to the cycles of nature and the cosmos, the very heartbeat of the world."
She smiled invitingly. "Can anyone tell me, what other natural cycles might we harness in our rituals to enhance their power and effectiveness?"
An Earth Phixte, Tiamah, spoke up eagerly from the knot of novitiates. "The phases of the moon?"
Saenin nodded approvingly. "Just so. The moon's phases hold great significance, as do the stars overhead, and the ley lines that web beneath our feet. By incorporating these cycles into our rituals, we deepen the resonance of our magic, channelling in harmony with the Earth's own power."
Kara listened with great interest. She had never given much thought to how things like moon phases or changing seasons might affect the potency of magic. This seemed an ancient, primal craft somehow, far removed from the standard curriculum of wand motions and carefully pronounced spells she'd always been taught. Was this how rituals were always performed? Even those crafted by witches and wizards? She wished suddenly that it was something she could have studied more at Hogwarts, but ritual magic was hoarded by the Unspeakables.
As Saenin delved into the intricacies of each Sabbat, the power they held, and the rituals tied to them, Kara's thoughts inevitably turned back to the strange ritual circle she had glimpsed shortly before arriving on Drakonia.
She still vividly recalled the interwoven shapes and runes seared into the earth within the circle's confines. And at its heart, that one small patch of vibrant green grass, untouched by whatever magics had scorched the surrounding soil. Kara suppressed a shiver at the memory.
She had hoped learning about elven rituals might offer some information into the one that had potentially brought her here. But Saenin spoke only of rituals tied to cycles of life and nature, and the magic Kara had felt emanating from the circle near Hogwarts had felt eerie, not natural or light.
Distracted by her own musings, Kara belatedly realized Saenin had moved on from the topic of Sabbats.
"While solo rituals are possible, group rituals are far more common. Each person contributes their own magic to the group, thereby creating effects of far greater power," she explained.
One novitiate queried, "So a solo ritual won't be as strong?"
"Correct," Saenin affirmed. "Ritual magic is ceremonial, relying on specific actions, tools, symbols, and incantations to concentrate and guide the magic." She gestured towards the bowls on the altar. "What role might these play in a ritual?"
Tiamah stepped forward. "Sage for cleansing, lavender for peace and relaxation. It suggests a purification ritual, to ward off negative energy and promote a calm atmosphere?"
"Precisely. In fact, that's the exact ritual I performed earlier today in preparation for your lesson," Saenin confirmed, her smile mirrored by Tiamah. "Over the course of the year, we will be preparing a ritual for each Sabbat to perform with the rest of the inhabitants at the Nest. Next weekend is Ostara—the spring equinox."
Preparing them for the practice, Saenin explained the importance of cleansing oneself and the environment, and the careful selection of tools based on what one wants to achieve from a ritual.
A loud, arrogant voice suddenly called from the midst of the novitiates, "What about blood?"
Saenin's countenance instantly darkened. "Who said that?"
A shuffling silence was her only answer.
"In our rituals, we do not use blood," Saenin retorted sharply. "I won't hear it mentioned again. Is that clear?"
A murmur of acquiescence followed her query. Kara felt a shiver of anxiety in her chest at the implications of incorporating blood into ritual magic, but she quickly shook the thought away. Dwelling on blood magic would do no one any good.
Next, Saenin guided them to an adjoining table containing a scattering of heavy wooden desks, their worn surfaces laden with bundles of dried herbs, bowls of coloured crystals, and stacks of leatherbound tomes.
"These texts cover the basic tools and components involved in ritual crafting," Saenin picked up one of the books. "Study them closely and begin designing a simple ritual attuned to the upcoming Ostara Sabbat. Mind your intentions, tools, and focus. The pages before you contain knowledge precious and rare."
At Saenin's prompting, the novitiates crowded eagerly around the desks, clamouring to examine the different herbs and pore over the detailed illustrations filling each aged page.
Kara hung back until the initial frenzy had passed, hesitant to invite scorn by inserting herself. But finally she stepped forward, lightly trailing her fingers over the dried lavender and sage, inhaling their familiar scents. She took mental notes on their attributed properties – cleansing, calming, inviting positive energies.
Selecting a few crystals that resonated with her, she began cautiously paging through the ritual texts, seeking anything resembling the strange circle that had started this chain of events at Hogwarts. But ritual after ritual depicted only benign workings tied to warding, protection, healing, and other such intentions. None resembled the ominous energy she recalled emanating from that ritual site. Perhaps the ritual had nothing to do with the elves or why she'd appeared here at all.
With a small sigh, Kara set aside her questions for now and began designing her own practice ritual attuned to the coming equinox, as Saenin had instructed. She selected herbs and crystals in keeping with her desired intentions, then started jotting down the steps, tools, and incantations she would need. If she couldn't make sense of her current circumstances, she could at least try to prepare for the future group ritual.
When their lesson ended, Kara followed the others back up the winding stairs. But after only a few steps back into the hallway above, she staggered slightly, one hand reflexively touching the cool stone wall to steady herself.
A hollow sensation was unfurling inside her chest, as though something integral had been carved out, leaving an odd emptiness in its wake. The ever-present anxiety that had plagued her since arriving on Drakonia – the churning fears about her fate in this strange place - abruptly came flooding back in to fill that void tenfold.
Understanding struck her swiftly. Down in the rituals chamber, she had experienced an unnatural sense of calm. At the time she had welcomed it, that reprieve from the gnawing tension knotting her shoulders. But now she recognized that tranquillity for what it was - a manufactured thing by Saenin's preparatory ritual, false and hollow.
Unease curdled in her gut, and Kara had to resist the urge to retreat back down the winding steps, to re-enter that hazy veil of forced serenity. She stood her ground, nails biting into her palms. Saenin had surely meant no overt harm by it considering it must have affected the elven novitiates too, but the experience left Kara deeply unsettled. Never before had she realized magic could be used to so seamlessly manipulate emotions against one's will or knowledge. She did not like this revelation one bit, and she was beginning to see why ritual magic was no longer practiced back home.
Jaw clenched, Kara quickened her pace toward the library, needing distraction. Today, she was neither worn out nor bruised from her lessons, so she could dedicate time to answering the countless questions she had. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the wand sheathed at her wrist. She silently vowed to never allow external magic to sway her mind like that again. Her thoughts and feelings were her own. She had to believe she could overcome whatever magics this island might throw at her.
The giant double doors of the library groaned open, and Kara felt giddy. The sheer volume of knowledge contained within was enough to steal her breath away. On the far left, a grand staircase spiralled up to levels unseen. To her right, squat ladders clung to towering stacks of books. High arched ceilings bedecked with delicate chandeliers bathed everything in a warm, honeyed glow. Hundreds of lanterns hung overhead like distant stars.
She would have loved to explore at her leisure, but she needed to prioritize. Her current situation held so many unknowns. Although she would have loved to do further study into her classes so she didn't feel so behind, she knew that could wait. She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. Phixte. A map. The Challenges. Those were crucial. Information on dragons, elven customs, history, or Dragon's Nest would be a bonus.
She scoured the shelves, heart sinking when she realised most of the books she needed were written in Elvish. She could translate them, but such a task would be too taxing on her magic to complete in one sitting, and she couldn't afford to exhaust herself. Regardless, she gathered them into a stack before moving on. Thankfully, she did manage to find some that were in English. She found no books on dragons, which she thought was odd, but it was no matter. She had other topics to focus on. Once she had a hefty stack, she settled into a cozy chair and organised the books into two distinct piles on the table in front of her: one for those in English, and another for the ones in Elvish. The first book she opened up was a slim, delicately bound volume titled 'The Elemental Kin'.
Elves and Phixte exhibit notable differences in their elemental magics. While invoking and controlling an element is a standard Elven ability, Phixte are a unique subclass born with an inherent alignment to their element. Fire, Water, Air, or Earth do not just respond to their call, but resonate with their very essence. Nature herself chose these individuals, gifting them with a profound elemental bond.
The manifestation of this elemental affinity is observable in both magic and physical characteristics. Fire Phixte, for instance, typically present physical traits that echo their element, including warm colour pigmentation and an elevated body temperature. This pattern extends across all categories of Phixte, from the cool and iridescent water-affiliated, to the ethereal and agile air-aligned, and the sturdy and grounded earth-oriented.
Phixte are obligated to exercise heightened control over their magic due to this intense specialisation, requiring careful management to avoid dangerous consequences to themselves and those around them. The majority of the Phixte population reside on the island of Illunar, a location known for its rich elemental diversity...
Kara blinked at the information, her mind racing to absorb it all. Well, she had her answer for what a Phixte was, and why some of the elves looked so different. The rest of the book seemed to detail prominent Phixte and their accomplishments, so Kara set it aside, uninterested for now. The island of Illunar. She had never heard of it. How far was she, exactly, from her loved ones back home?
She skimmed the books written in English; eyes peeled for anything that could indicate her location. When that didn't yield results, she picked up one of the Elvish texts. There was an elaborately illustrated parchment nestled between its pages. It was a map, detailed and striking, painted with swirling hues of blue and green. But it wasn't a world map like she'd seen before. An entire archipelago that shouldn't exist, islands dotting the seas in various places—lands absent from any maps she had encountered before.
Intrigued, she studied the fine lines, tracing her fingers over the unfamiliar coasts. Her gaze followed the winding rivers, scaled the depicted mountains, and swept over the forests, scattered across islands she hadn't known existed. The map was a secret piece of geography, hidden from human knowledge. The only enigma left was the curlicued script annotating the islands.
She picked up her wand and muttered the translation charm, watching as the markings shivered, twisting into English. Names emerged from the once-incomprehensible scrawl.
Drakonia. Elandir. Tureln. Illunar. Aerandel. Vanor. Queris. Lisoria. Eight islands, each with its own unique title. She lingered on the labels, tasting the exotic syllables on her tongue. They sounded strange, yet oddly melodic, like an unfamiliar lullaby. Their existence, however, held a deeper implication. They were evidence of a world she had been oblivious to all her life, proof that the elves could conceal entire islands from human sight.
Closing the book, Kara leaned back in her chair. She stared blankly at the map, her mind grappling with the discovery. The unfamiliar islands scattered across the sea, her remote location in these unknown lands, the thought of home, all swirled into a disorienting blend of emotions. She yearned for the familiarity of her old life, but she had more pressing concerns than homesickness, and she might never be able to return if she didn't stay focused.
Kara let the images of the strange islands recede into the back of her mind, returning to her books. She pulled out the remaining one written in English. When she briefly flicked through it, she realised the book was filled with testimonies of those who'd faced the Challenges. Kalon's warning echoed in her mind, that not all would survive the end of the year. If she was going to have any hope of living through what awaited her at the end of the year, then she needed to learn all she could.