Azira opened her eyes, feeling as if she had just awoken from a deep slumber. She was confused at first, and took a moment to regain her bearings. A glance to the left, and then the right, and she saw and felt almost luminescent pale green blades of grass tickling her skin. A light breeze blew across her face and through her loosely braided hair as birds twittered away, and she realized that she was outside somewhere familiar, laying on the ground. She could see the dark canopies of great oak trees above her, and then a bright blue sky with fluffy peach-tinged clouds. She slowly sat up and realized she had been asleep on a smooth, flat boulder that was flush with the earth and that had baked warm from hours of afternoon sun. As she looked down at herself, she realized that her feet were bare and the soles were stained with mud and grass, and she wore a modest pink linen smock– one that she remembered wearing every day in her childhood. Alarmed, she jumped up and raced across the short clover field to the small woodland village that surrounded a large central galleon castle. She was back on the allod where she grew up. She was home.
"Papa! Papa!"
Her little feet couldn't run fast enough and her barely-there wings just about carried her weight when she hopped a few yards forward excitedly. Instinctively She knew the time of day and what would be happening. Her father, Valentin, would be heading home from his day's work at the Lupinwood architecture bureau.
She crossed a beautifully paved stone pathway through a small opening between a thicket of trees and shrubs. The heat from the sun had warmed the pavings thoroughly, and she excitedly hopped from one to the other as she made her way along the path, feeling the gentle heat under the soles of her feet. Her house sat right on the edge of the village and she would run across the clover field every day to play and explore in the glades. Her mother, Anne-Marie, would stay at the house and maintain home keeping tasks, always having a watchful eye on her, oftentimes with the help of magic.
As Azira skittered excitedly past the edge of the front garden of her home, she could see her beloved father heading closer from the opposite direction. Before she could let out a squeal, she felt the tight grip of firm hands holding her from racing off into the distance.
"Look at you– Filthy! and how many times do I have to tell you not to head out without any proper clothes or shoes?"
Her mother would always repeat the same line like clockwork each day, though She sounded extra tired this time, as if Azira's consciousness now understood the uncomfortable weight and exhaustion of repeating ones-self to a child.
"But Maman, it is so hot and stuffy when I wear them!"
Azira protested, as she always had, but she paused this time, and then promised she would wear proper outdoor clothes the next day.
Her mother's expression brightened up and her worry lines, few as they were, all seemed to disappear in an instant, leaving behind a warm, eternally youthful smile. She laughed gently and pinched Azira's cheek as Valentin finally braced the gates to the front garden.
"Hello family! Zizi– my sweet little flower.
Anne-Marie, my beautiful blossom."
Both of them received a shower of kisses.
"Papa! Papa! Look what I found today in the glades!"
Azira reached behind her pointed ears, then very large in proportion to her small stature and features, and retrieved a crumpled four leaf clover that had wilted a little from the heat and being crushed during the nap. She proudly handed it gripped in small chubby fingers to Valentin, beaming.
"Wow, sweetpea! What a lucky find, I believe this is a very good omen for you!"
He picked her up as she cheerfully held her clover, and they all stepped inside. Elven homes were usually luxurious in design and steeped in complex and detailed architecture and technology. Lupinwood's homes had many of the traditional Elven design elements, though they often held an air of more quaint simplicity. There was more favor towards homes with a more rustic look in this community, and so there were often houses that were built with designs inspired by and central to the natural shapes, materials and colours of the expansive forest and natural landscape surrounding Lupinwood. High wooden beams fashioned from ancient oak trees, more slanted and sometimes thatched roofs as opposed to rounded domes, climbing plants like ivy and morning glory that covered some of the smaller buildings and spiral shapes and patterns were all notable structural features, sporting elements akin to those of both traditional elven architecture and like that of Kanian and Umorian-style living spaces.
Azira rushed up the stairs to her abode, a small and cozy bedroom that faced westward and looked over their shady back garden.
As she stepped inside, a tinkling of crystal ornaments and suncatchers could be heard as the air pressure changing between the opening door and the flow of the breeze through the cracked window moved them. They glistened in the sliver of deep orange sunlight that still trickled in as the sun was setting fast, and sparkling rainbows spread across the walls. She sighed and stepped in, scrunching her feet into the softness of a fine plush patterned woolen rug, expertly tufted by her grandmother Adeline.
She stepped forward before her tall mirror, ornately framed with filigree grape vines and flowers, and in the center sat a large bee ornament with emerald eyes.
As she looked in, she could see herself as a teenager, now wearing a blush pink floor length dress made with layers of sheer fabric. It had two long slits up to the thigh on either side of the skirt, and a belt of bright faux peonies hung about her hips, attached at the top of the slits on the skirt. A matching pale pink peony bloom also delicately glowed and floated about her right shoulder. She had always hated that dress, but somehow seeing the memory of her in the mirror made her have a tender and newfound appreciation for it.
She kneeled in front of her reflection for a time, looking at her plain, round pale face and short messy dark purple braids, feeling more memories flood back and suddenly missing her childhood. Missing playing in the glades alone and with her friends. Missing innocence.
"Azira!"
A disgruntled and strained call from her father echoed through the hallway and from outside of her bedroom door. She felt a sudden need to hide away, to shut the door and slip out of the window or even through her magic mirror like she had often done when she wanted an escape. It wasn't a very good one, as the magic was weak and didn't last for very long, but over time she would get better at creating liminal spaces to fade in and out of whenever she wanted. She felt her chest tighten as Valentin's footsteps became heavier and faster and finally the door swung open.
"Zi-rah! How many times?!"
She kept her gaze on the mirror, but could catch a glimpse of him in the reflection, a slightly greying tuft of hair swinging limply over his slightly more aged, stubbly face.
She tightened her lips, not wanting to speak. This was one of her bad memories.
Her father called again, the growing irritation in his voice almost seeming to strike her physically. She winced, as if a raw nerve had been touched. Her head began to pound with the pressure of conflict and the need to escape.
"Azira– do you hear me? We are going to be late. Enough loitering!"
The door slammed open against the wall and almost shook off the hinges. Valentin was stressed. Life was changing in Lupinwood. Citizens were leaving their homes for mainland Kania and other allods with the pressures of war, socio-political and economic developments, and the need for families and communities to expand their horizons. As a result, resources and trades were slowing down, opportunities were becoming scarce and this quiet and beautiful forest town was slowly but surely fading further into obscurity. Azira had been at a standstill, dropping out of school and wandering aimlessly for a while. Her parents had been concerned about her future and were keen to have her married, but she protested and stalled meetings, balls and matchmaking parties for as long as she could. It was either apprenticeship or marriage– or both if necessary, as Valentin had often said.
In this memory, her head would spin and she would look to the floor as tears filled her eyes and everything became blurry. Her heart still raced. She was terrified of marriage and she still hadn't been sure of what she wanted to study. Committing to one discipline seemed so daunting when her interests were many.
They would be heading by carriage to a matchmaking party at the city hall, a grand and marvelous structure that Valentin had much of a hand in the design and construction of. She could hear the horses as the carriage arrived outside of the house– a very old and traditional mode of travel that was still used for special events.
"Papa… I cannot do it."
She said so sheepishly that it almost seemed to stick in her throat. The unfathomable weight of guilt wore down on her so heavily, she felt that she would fall to the floor in that moment.
Azira hunched her shoulders and clenched her fists, waiting for a fit of rag, but instead there was a deep, disappointing sigh that cut her deeper than any words could.
She continued to look at the floor and silently let her tears fall as she could hear his footsteps hastily rush down the stairs and out of the door.
Moments later, another gentler set of soft footsteps became audible as they approached her bedroom door.
"...Zizi."
"Maman- I am so scared!"
Azira was barely able to gasp those words as loud, uncontrollable sobbing echoed around from her, around her room and through all the hallways of the house. Anne Marie stood at the door in a gold silk gown with heavy blue crystal earrings, her shoulders shifted uncomfortably, rustling a white mink fur scarf draped about them.
She paused, and then they both looked down away from each other as the faint echo of Valentin apologising profusely to their carriage driver traveled up and throughout the house. Anne-Marie felt helpless, and Azira could still feel the heavy weight of being responsible for the stress of her parents.
"... You know, I felt the same about your father. I was terrified to marry him. I was a free spirit, too."
More sobbing echoed. Azira kept her eyes to the floor and her head turned away, facing her window.
"But, things work out when you allow destiny to guide you. Sometimes it is exactly what we need, and we don't realize until we are on the other side of it. All I am saying, Azira, is to take this one chance. Maybe you will find a husband, maybe you will find a good friend, maybe you will find a golden opportunity that will open doors for your future."
Anne Marie walked forwards into Azira's room and kneeled down beside her distraught daughter, rubbing her back delicately.
"Maybe, with a turn of good fortune, you will find all three. And even if you didn't, the fact that you took that one chance, at least, is better than not doing anything out of fear, and then wondering 'what if' for the rest of your life, right?"
Azira finally turned her head to face forward, sighing as the tears slowly ceased. She couldn't help but acknowledge Anne-Marie's gentle but mighty voice of reason.
Her own voice cracked and muffled through her blocked nose as she finally spoke
"You have a point there, maman. I am honestly terrified and I can't hide it anymore, but I will take this one chance for my future, and for you guys…"
She took a deep sigh, staring back into the mirror as her reflection became blurry again.
"…I will go."
Anne Marie's embrace engulfed her as sweet perfume filled Azira's lungs. She could smell the musky aroma of face powder, mixing with the sweet floral scents of honeysuckle, peaches and cherry blossoms from Anne-Marie's fragrance oils. Azira's eyes closed and she nestled into that sweet and floral memory for a while, it seemed like she was being rocked gently in the safety of her mother's arms for ages. Anne-Marie's gentle and encouraging voice could be felt flowing through her body as she reassured and empowered Azira with words she'd seldom heard, but always treasured and would never forget in this moment;
"I'm proud of you no matter what, Zi."
She felt a sudden wave of inner strength and pride as she lifted her head up again to look into her mother's eyes.
They now stood outside a huge tower on a bright spring morning, Anne Marie's hands cupping her face and tears now in her eyes instead of Azira's. A large and neatly woven straw hat with a pale pink silk ribbon adorned her head and delicately bounced in the cool breeze as she smiled at her daughter proudly from beneath the brim. Azira took a step back and looked admiringly at both of her parents, dressed formally and stood before her on a neat pathway of fine pale gravel that led up to a courtyard with long rows of tall, neatly manicured cypress trees, flowering vines and huge marble fountains with statues of many of the well known elven great mages that had lived over the centuries, and their loyal pets. Valentin smiled at her from under a purple and gold silken feathered cap quietly marveling at the details of both the tower and the courtyard design, but his expression was pained, and she also felt the pang that tugged at her in this memory– one of a long, bittersweet and emotional goodbye. She glanced up at the great mage's tower that stood before them, a gargantuan structure that shot up so far through the clouds that the very top wasn't even visible from ground level. Butterflies filled her stomach in anticipation of something great and also frightening; at the time, she wouldn't even have been able to imagine exactly what.
Other students, staff, beneficiaries and important guests were in the courtyard and also heading inside from different entrances. Many relatives of them stood and held their children, spouses and friends one last time before saying goodbye. There had been a great deal of emotion in the air that was almost eerie. The great mage Clement de Desirae would be making his appearance later that evening to kick off the first semester of study for that year as well as the official opening of his tower to the largest group of students from far and wide that he had ever taken on. Some people would be staying for the ball, but Valentin and Anne-Marie were not among those who were sticking around for celebrations.
"We are in awe of you, Azira Elize, and we'll be excited to hear about your adventures in the near future. Continue to make us proud, my daughter."
Valentin choked back tears and held his arms out gently, awkwardly gesturing something between a hand shake or a hug. Things had been very tense between Him and Azira leading up to her finally flying the nest, but the love that they had for one another had not disappeared. She grabbed her father and held on to him tighter than ever, letting a few tears fall. Something in her had known that it would be a long while before she ever saw them again.
"Remember to stay in contact! Send a lot of mail, keep us in the loop with your whereabouts!"
Anne Marie tearfully cautioned her daughter.
Azira laughed nervously and squeezed her mother's hand before promising to keep in contact with them.
"I love you, Valentin and Anne-Marie Castillon, my mama and papa. May all my actions and my deeds—great or small— cover your names in glory."
She stood back and kneeled before both of them before taking her frayed leather carry case -one that had once belonged to Valentin- and quickly running up the path to the courtyard. She caught up to a line of students heading up a grand marble stairway and turned around to see her parents standing at the far end of the courtyard, waving at her among a sea of relatives sending off their loved ones.
At the door, a large and portly gentleman dressed head to toe in gold, jeweled rings with various insignias and a deep red and gold scholar's robe had a great scroll floating in front of him with a list of guests and students that sparkled fiercely, brimming with old magic.
He glared at her through a glimmering monocle as she grinned up at him.
"Name?"
"Azira Elize Mirabelle Castillon."
A few moments passed as the scroll extended and stretched before her eyes. It glowed and flashed as he cooly checked every name that was there. She held her breath nervously until Finally, he found hers.
"Ah, yes. Daughter of elven architect Valentine Castillon and seamstress Anne-Marie de Delice… how peculiar. School of… necromancy?"
He frowned a little and she quietly nodded.
"Y-Yes."
He took a thoughtful pause before looking back down into her bright eyes and cracked a sly smile.
"Interesting choice. You know, there was once a great stigma that surrounded this type of magic, especially in my day. It was forbidden. Before long now, people of your discipline will be some of the most highly sought after by the League Army, and other factions across Sarnaut. How times have changed."
Butterflies fluttered within her belly again and she became filled with a strange sense of excitement and purpose. She turned around one last time, catching the far away gaze of her parents. Valentin blew a kiss from afar and she motioned her hands as if to catch it, held it to her chest, and then saluted them before heading inside.
She stepped into the heavy tower doors that were more than five times her height and guarded by a pair of stone gryphons with opalescent eyes that glared down judgingly from above. As she entered the tower, more memories floated by in bits and pieces. She remembered feeling awkward and, as usual, struggling to make any friends at first. She remembered a breathtaking view from her richly decorated dorm that allowed her to see down onto the tower gardens, courtyards and fields that stretched across the allod. She could see far across into forests and glades that surrounded the tower and its grounds and reached the edges of the allod, and every day over the summer that she spent there, a cool breeze with astral frost would flow in along with the peach and purple lights of sunset after a long hot day, creating a perfect little bedroom oasis. She remembered heading past seemingly endless floors of labs, libraries, portal rooms, observatories, animal sanctuaries, theaters, and much more on just the first day of the week-long freshman tour. She remembered seeing Clement de Desirae for the first time and being completely floored by his presence. She had not seen a great mage in person like that before then. He was intimidating, awe-inspiring, dazzling, alluring… somehow handsome. His aura seemed to glow brilliantly around his body, almost like that of a patron saint. During one of his appearances on the tour he had made eye contact with her and smiled. She'd looked down at the floor quickly as her heart raced in her chest.
She remembered the sweet, smiling face of one friend that she had made from her dorm– Eveline Stoyanova. Remembering her struck Azira deep inside with a sudden and great pain. Eveline had a pleasant round face with tan skin, rosy cheeks and freckles. She wore masses of curly dark brown hair in a ponytail and her brown eyes always glimmered as if they had glowing embers in them. She and Azira had meals together often, sharing stories about their lives. They browsed the vast maze-like libraries together, and spent time with all of the different animals in the labs. They'd snuck around on forbidden floors of the tower, even once spying on one of the great mage scholars while he was calibrating an ancient June teleportation device. They'd had to make a run for it when his pet cockatiel screeched at them, revealing their hiding spot. Eveline was a budding and very gifted druid who had unique and advanced abilities. She could make vines grow out from the walls and floors that were covered in sweet flowers and viable fruit that healed comrades when consumed. She could tame any creature with a gentle touch or the sweetness of her singing voice, and also had the gift of creating fertile soil, clean springs of water and abundant crops just about anywhere that she set foot.
The tower gardens were a favorite hotspot of hers and she'd quickly began running a gardening club during their time as students there. Azira hadn't been much of a gardener, and back at home she scoffed at her mother's attempts to get her into growing vegetables and doing garden chores together, deeming it 'boring and muddy work' but at Clement's tower and through spending time with Eveline, she'd developed a newfound appreciation for it, and had even been able to draw upon some of the knowledge from her childhood that had stuck. This strengthened their bond, and opened a new avenue of study for Azira in relation to her necromancy– the cycles of life, vitality and growth in relation to death and decay: two sides of the same coin. During their time together, they had even taught each other spells from their respective disciplines. Azira taught Eveline how to sap a little bit of the life force from a living being with vampirism and heal herself with it, and Eveline in turn taught her how to make flowers spring up on a small patch of ground. They could be poisonous and baneful, or beneficial and healing depending on the intention placed into the spell. It came in useful to her throughout her travels, and she had used it more than a few times since.
More memories quickly flooded in and around her as she headed
Through the winding corridors of the tower.
She remembered tensions rising among students and staff as a strange presence began to be felt throughout the allod during the latter part of the academic year.
She remembered a psionicist named Zamora that had shared a dorm with her and Eveline. She had been mute for the first few weeks, and then after having a night terror that caused her to scream and wake the whole dorm, began going into hysterical rants every day about the entire allod falling apart and demons destroying the tower. Word had begun to spread and students were feeling unsettled, as a result she had almost been suspended from her studies. There had been a meeting about it amongst staff, and the whole fiasco had ostracized their friendship group amongst the rest of the students. This time had been stressful for Azira, as she didn't want to face leaving school with nothing again. In the end, Zamora was moved to another dorm in isolation, assigned to a senior psionicist and placed under strict supervision at the request of the great mage himself.
She remembered one particular student, another necromancer who kept to himself and although he was polite enough, something seemed quite disconnected about him. He had joined later than the other students. He went by the name Rai. He was unsettling, mysterious and always seemed to be in a hurry to get away once things got too friendly or close for comfort. Azira had wanted to get to know him as he seemed smart and talented, but she could never get near enough to forge a real or lasting connection.
Finally, she came upon a dark and crumbling part of the hallway that signaled the start of many chaotic memories. The tower began to shake violently, and the ceiling began to fall about her. Huge chunks of stone and rubble that could easily have crushed her were narrowly missing her as they fell. She felt the pain, confusion and the adrenaline of that fateful day rush back. The day that Clement de Desirae was assassinated before her eyes. The day that the tower fell apart, and she had to help the survivors and flee before the whole allod was devoured into the astral. The day that she'd met the great mage's niece Amanda– They would become comrades after that and long time friends. She remembered a young warrior in training named Svetabor who gave his life to help the survivors… to help her. She could recall his last moments and his last breath like it was yesterday. His words to her echoed loudly in her head whenever she faced hard times or difficult battles: "Survive! Do you hear me?!" he was so young…That day, everything that Zamora spoke about had come true, and the memories were now flooding back piece by piece. Zamora herself would not make it out. Azira never saw Eveline again either. It was a day that would haunt her for the next ten years and then some. The start of her journey to Kania and straight into the vast steel-plated and blood-soaked bosom of the League Army…
Suddenly, she tripped on a crumbling stairwell past a point where the structure ended and fell down, deeper and deeper into unending darkness.
As she fell, she saw a deep green pair of eyes– the astral demon that she'd helped Amanda to trap and kill before heading into the portal. She remembered the deep forests and lush meadows of evermeet. She remembered a huge red lynx, the survivor's camp, a lone gibberling that had almost gone mad, the necromancer Arsene that looked a lot like Rai that she faced and defeated in the cave, and the mysterious mage benefactor that she would come to discover the identity of many years later.
She was still falling, and then for a moment everything stopped and turned pitch black. She lost her bearings; it didn't feel like falling anymore as much as floating or being suspended in the darkness. This was like pure black matter; deepest layers of the astral that were spoken about theoretically by scientists and astral scholars but these areas had so far been unreachable with magic, ships or probes. It was rumored that these unfathomably dense structures of space-time contained portals that were almost like reverse star gates. The inhabitants of Sarnaut were only scratching the surface when it came to stargates, and these were far beyond the current understanding of scientific advancements. Perhaps the closest comparable place would have been the underbelly of purgatory– a place that most people would never see, even in death. Azira had witnessed that level of darkness once in a battle with a god and it had temporarily driven her mad.
She felt herself relax and melt into what felt like another memory forming. She felt astral frost on a gentle wind and it was still dark, but it was now a recognisable kind of darkness.
She was laid down once again– it was her, and the deep indigo astral. She slowly sat up. This place seemed familiar but she couldn't figure out exactly where she was at first. She babbled to herself and stood up. She had been laying on a stygian passage surrounded by a small patch of grass and tall birch trees that swayed gently. A servant of light greeted her, yawning. She yawned too, almost toppling over and feeling drunk as if she had just resurrected for the very first time.
"Greetings comrade! I'm Daniel. Are you lost?"
The servant of light chuckled at her and Azira felt like chuckling back. She stepped off of the platform and suddenly she knew where she was,
The Astral Atoll rescue point for newcomers and survivors that had left Evermeet Isle.
She scratched her head, confused and looking down at her grubby, bare feet and torn clothes. She began to feel uncomfortable and panicked. How had she reverted back to who she used to be? Weak and unsure of who she was. Suddenly she wanted to leave. She was in a hurry to go home. This was starting to feel more real and less like a dream. She could see Ton, the gibberling survivor that she had rescued from madness, and the ship boarding astrolabe ahead and she began to run, but it seemed that the more she ran, the further away it got. It was unsettling, and she called out to him. He stood, still smiling and waving in her direction but couldn't seem to hear her.
"Ton… something is terribly wrong! I need to get back to Lightwood so I can find my friends!"
"What?"
"I need to get back to Lightwood!"
"Huhhh?"
"I need…"
All of a sudden everything stopped for a second, and then the trees and a huge thicket grew around her, the sky became a deep blue-black and the stars seemed further away, and the familiar feeling of a looming dark curse washed over the atmosphere. She turned around as a sudden rustling noise came from a bush behind her and she instinctively walked up to it and parted it. There was Fuzz, exactly like the day they had met in the forests of Darkwater.
"Huh? What are you doing here?"
He started mumbling incoherently.
"Come on, we need to get back to Lightwood."
She reached down to pull him up by the hand, but he violently pushed her down as he got up. She shrieked, though nobody would hear her out in the seemingly endless forest.
He stood up as she lay on her back, placing a boot on her chest before she could get up, and pressing his weight down on her, hard enough that she felt a crushing pain on her ribs. He silently lifted his crossbow and pointed it directly at her face, making sure the rusted iron arrowhead would get her right between the eyes.
"Fuzz?! It's me– What's going on? Wh-why are you doing this?!"
She struggled, but couldn't move under his crushing weight. She continued writhing and pleading on seemingly deaf ears before the final moment came.
"Why, Fuzz?"
He had remained silent and expressionless through the struggling, but at the last second spoke.
"This is exactly what you do to me every day, and now it's your turn…"
Suddenly, the ground shook hard, he lost his balance and the arrow and crossbow fell clumsily from his grip as he seemed to fall away from her. She was barely able to lift her head and glance towards him, noting how he struggled to lift himself almost to a sitting position on the ground, and then a shadow from above seemed to cloak everything in an impenetrable shade of black. Another booming shake knocked them about, and there, letting out a great roar that rivaled that of a giant manticore, stood the house of Baba Yaga. Crows flying frantically around began to shriek and alarm Azira, and then a giant chicken's foot loomed over her, about to squash her under its weight.
She tried to scream but the sound wouldn't come out, and as it stepped down onto her, she felt a huge slamming sensation that knocked her straight out of the dream world…
… and back into her body, awake again.
She quickly opened her eyes and took a huge gulp of air. Her heart was slamming in her chest. She looked around in partial darkness and could see daylight peeking through a closed curtain. Birds sang outside and the muffled voices of patrons and sounds of busy staff could be heard in the tavern below her. Her stomach gave a nervous gurgle and sweat drenched her entire body. She lay now fully present, awake and in shock. She hadn't dreamed like that in a long time. She scanned the room around her to see if she was alone, and patted down her entire body just to make sure that she was in fact alive, awake and fully intact. There was another bed across the room from hers, but it appeared to be empty and unused.
"Great Astral… what a dream."
She tried to sit herself up shakily as the birds outside twittered away loudly.
Footsteps creaked up the stairway to the tavern rooms and she froze, laid down on her back again, soaked in her own sweat in the darkness of the room. They paused close to the door, but then walked past.
When she felt the coast was clear, she sat back up, and carefully tip-toed towards the curtain to open it, making as little sound as possible. It was a beautiful autumn morning and the sun shone over the lake and twinkled through the birchwoods overhead. Her face and nose were sore from falling against the ground the previous night and she could feel the tenderness and swelling when she scrunched her face up.. She perched on a stool by the window and carefully opened a crack for some fresh air, clearing her head and thinking about the possible meanings behind what she had just experienced.