His inability to awaken, a consequence of his deal with Freya, he had once dismissed out of ignorance, now weighed heavily on him. It acted like a straitjacket, rendering conventional wisdom useless and forcing him to devise creative solutions to bypass his limitations. Fortunately, Ori had ample resources, rare talents, and the recorded wisdom of High Elven Queens at his disposal.
The Dreamwalkers' Ward was a prime example: an often-overlooked enchantment that perfectly suited his circumstances. As he prepared to tackle it, Ori also explored ways to optimise his overall crafting efficiency.
He spent the entire day and night preparing for practical exercises in enchanting. He focused on items that didn't require class-specific spells or abilities restricted by his lack of a Mana Nexus. Only Poppy's brief, welcome food deliveries interrupted his intense focus. During these moments, their exchanges were awkward and stilted, as if they had run out of things to say since their last real conversation.
In the solitude of his workshop, lit only by the dim pre-dawn glow, Ori sat surrounded by piles of Yewheart wood, a material prized for its resilience and mana conductivity. He whittled each piece into smooth, slender forms that fit comfortably in a caster's hand. Once shaped, he infused each wand with alchemical catalysts made from painstakingly prepared mixtures of rare herbs and powdered minerals. Following the infusion, he carved intricate runes and glyphs along the wood, each symbol designed to channel and amplify magical energies.
He crafted several more wands and fine-tuned his tools, including an inscription stylus that maintained its sharpness while dispensing molten silver into precisely carved grooves. He also brewed basic alchemical concoctions and experimented with spell-induced pops and micro-explosions.
This methodical approach was born of necessity. Without a Mana Nexus, he was forced to rely on the sparse, unaligned atmospheric mana available. This severely limited the complexity of the enchantments he could produce and drastically extended the time required for even the simplest tasks.
Frustrated by his slow progress, Ori often considered crafting his own Arcane Source. He knew it was theoretically possible; his soul-bound artefact already acted as a weak source he or Sera could draw upon. But with no existing guides addressing the unique predicament of a caster without a Mana Nexus, he briefly considered asking Harriet or Poppy for help. Harriet had access to vast resources, and Poppy's unique experiences might offer alternative solutions. However, he quickly dismissed the idea. He needed space to stabilise his own emotions and refused to impose further burdens on them unless he was truly desperate.
As he worked, his thoughts continually circled back to his inherent weakness—the very flaw driving his relentless pursuit of arcane power. He knew he couldn't physically strengthen himself to match a Greater or Sovereign rank opponent in just two weeks, but he believed he could borrow enough power from his enchantments to survive them. This realisation shaped his entire approach, focusing his craft on defence and strategic advantage.
His affinity for what he termed "Modern Warfare" began to heavily influence his designs. It was as if being locked in that dark cell had thrown open Pandora's box. His expertise went beyond the maintenance and field use of firearms and explosives gleaned from Saint Donna's divination. It encompassed a strategic mindset native to his era—a doctrine that favoured asymmetric tactics, precision strikes, and information warfare. These concepts were as integral to twenty-first-century conflict as the thermonuclear bomb.
Idly, Ori theorised enchantments for surveillance and intelligence gathering that could operate undetected or deliver precise magical effects from a distance, completely circumventing traditional magical defences.
Yet, while he had access to texts detailing the darker paths of necromancy and soul enslavement, Ori steered clear of them. He felt a deep-seated antipathy towards such practices that resonated with his own affinities. Furthermore, the tragic life and death of Eltitus served as a haunting warning against devaluing life and the souls that sustained it.
This inevitably drew him to a profound question: what exactly is a soul? A month ago, his answer would have been an agnostic shrug. Now, having seen souls with his own eyes, having felt their presence and absence like warmth and cold on bare skin, Ori's perspective had radically shifted. He had warded souls from death, allowing magical healing to repair bodies that grew vastly more complex the more he understood them. Unless he was descending into madness, Ori had to accept this new reality: life after death existed, the dead could sometimes be brought back, the undead were real, and he was only at the beginning of a lifelong journey to understand it all.
He vividly recalled the cresting tide of soul essence that had flowed from Poppy during her climax. It wasn't a homogeneous energy; it had substance, texture, and perhaps even its own meaningful internal structure. The fragments of Eltitus's memory helped contextualise what he saw, but in many ways, Ori's nascent ability to perceive souls already far surpassed the ancient mage's.
As he crafted, a portion of his Split Mind drifted to Sera, and the realisation that his developing soul talents might be the key to solving Harriet's crisis. To have any chance of survival, Harriet needed to level up, to progress from the Sovereign rank to the Immortal rank.
Sovereign (Boundary: Level 75, B Rank): In the Sovereign realm, individuals' auras naturally extend their impact beyond personal boundaries, influencing the larger community and environment. This involves unconsciously shaping dwellings and landscapes, communities and practices, or leading or guiding others in the realm of magic. Most individuals aspire to ascend to this rank over their prolonged lifetimes, but vanishingly few ever achieve it. Requirements include ten Accolades, varied Peritia, at least one class at the Arch Realm or Racial Evolution to High, comprehension of a Sovereign Affinity to Integration, or a requisite amount of Grace, the merging of every spell or ability within one Spell Constellation, and the unification of two characteristics.
Immortal (Boundary: Level 100, A Rank): The Immortal Realm is the threshold of transcending conventional paracausal boundaries. While not yet divine, those in this realm exhibit characteristics and abilities that are precursors to divinity, such as immortal life and local authority over fundamental aspects of nature. It is a rare pinnacle, especially for humans, as achieving this often requires harnessing tremendous quantities of Grace alongside Peritia. Requirements include ten Rare Accolades, varied Peritia, at least one class at the Arch Realm or Racial Evolution to Arch, comprehension of an Immortal Affinity to Integration, and comprehension of an Authority.
He wasn't sure how yet, but Ori knew that class and racial evolutions triggered profound, fundamental changes in the nature of the soul. Perhaps direct access to a soul could generate the necessary insights… but that would almost certainly require Harriet's or Poppy's willing assistance.
Amidst his work, Ori briefly contemplated delving into more controversial areas of magic, exploits that challenged foundational principles of physics and engineering. It was a dark Pandora's box that Ori instinctively knew was far more dangerous than void magic or necromancy in terms of unintended consequences, to breaking the law of conservation, mass-energy equivalence, the second law of thermodynamics, causality, and the speed of light. Circumventing these laws could yield devastatingly powerful results. However, considering the inherent dangers, his limited expertise, and his strict two-week deadline, Ori decided to leave such ventures alone until he had a safer, more controlled environment. He tabled the ideas, despite the cold, spiteful part of him that desperately wanted a weapon, something reassuring to hold in the dark.
While these dark thoughts consumed a third of his Split Mind, the rest focused on his craft. The enchantments he envisioned were simple yet crucial. Using basic materials like sticks for healing wands and stones for protective talismans, he infused each item with a spell capable of healing minor wounds, providing a modest physical shield, or ideal tools for field medics or scouts.
Repetition carved the processes into his muscle memory. He could feel his soul shift and grow as Peritia lazily swirled around him; his actions were inviting the energy of Fate itself to rewrite him as he continually rewrote purpose and function into inanimate objects.
He then shifted focus to items designed for surveillance and information warfare. He crafted enchanted proximity sensors and seemingly innocuous objects capable of capturing and relaying sights and sounds over long distances, allowing a user to gather intelligence without risking exposure.
Late into the second day of his crafting marathon, the clawing tiredness of a muddled mind and a stiff body finally broke his flow state.
He stood and examined the fruits of his labour: several channelling wands, Yewheart rings of minor healing, paired alarm stones that illuminated when a living being approached the sensor, and a brooch warded against dream intrusions.
Satisfied, Ori slipped the healing ring onto his finger. As he made his way back to his suite, he strategically placed the detection stones along the corridor, his mind already turning to the daunting task of crafting the Dreamwalkers' Ward, a challenge he wasn't entirely sure he was ready for.
At the core of the Ward was a silver brooch; within was a crystal material he hadn't yet worked with. Silver's celestial neutrality and mana conductivity would ideally amplify the ward's dream-manipulating capabilities, but engraving such a hard material required a precision and steady hand he had never possessed in his previous life.
Engraving metal offered no room for error. Unlike the forgiving Yewheart wood, silver would unforgivingly highlight any slip or misjudgement. Each line had to be perfectly planned and flawlessly executed. This task was compounded by the sheer volume of mana required to Quicken the enchantment, one ten times more than Ori had ever attempted to draw from the atmosphere outside of his domain.
Furthermore, maintaining an active domain during the Quickening added a massive layer of difficulty. The domain wasn't just a physical aura; it was a confluence of energies requiring constant nurturing. He had to keep it stable and aligned with his dream-related affinities, ensuring the energies remained coherent enough to form a pseudo-artefact Will, a near-sentient presence. This Will acted as the engine, enabling the enchantment to function without requiring far more complex and resource-intensive inscriptions.
The problem was that a near-divine ability demanded near-divine characteristics, specifically Wisdom and Intelligence. While Ori's intelligence far exceeded that of an average mortal, it was perhaps a thousand times lower than what he needed to comfortably sustain a domain indefinitely. His current inability to process every floating particle of mass or energy overloaded his mind with a deluge of sensory information no mortal could endure for long.
Ori knew the Dreamwalkers' Ward would test not only his skills as an enchanter but also the boundaries of his dream affinities, his domain control, and his mental resilience. Despite the risks, the potential of mastering such an enchantment drove him forward. He was determined to overcome his limitations and breathe life into the silver brooch, hoping it would serve as his first real step toward redemption and self-forgiveness.
Stolen novel; please report.
As Ori collapsed onto his bed, his arcane vision still active, he felt a surreal sensation. He was sliding between consciousness and unconsciousness with unnerving lucidity, as if leaving his body behind and sinking beneath the surface of the waking world into a realm of his own design.
For a moment, he wasn't entirely sure if he was asleep, a bizarre, inverse hypnopompic state that was as novel as it was disorientating. Fortunately, by now, he could recognise the space he was entering.
Soon, Ori found himself adrift in Freya's dreamscape. The prismatic auroras and gentle rolling hills were a welcome contrast to the turmoil of his waking hours. However, as his astral form coalesced, he noticed something was wrong. The colours were muted and the winds bitingly cold, mirroring his own troubled state of mind.
Freya sensed him immediately, the tug of their bond announcing his arrival. But as she approached, she realised this was not the same bright, cheeky Ori she had last spoken to. His aura was a turbulent storm, swirling with dark shades of frustration, self-doubt, and simmering anger.
"Oh, what's got your knickers in a twist?" Freya asked bluntly as she hovered before him, her spectral form pulsing with a mix of concern and exasperation.
Ori's astral form shrugged, his shoulders tense. "Just found some clarity, that's all."
"Clarity doesn't produce billowing clouds of storm aura ruining the peace and tranquillity of my dream, Ori. What happened?"
Ori went on to explain the events since they had last met, from Harriet's reasons for summoning him and her confession of love, to his tryst with Poppy in the night garden and their abrupt interruption. Finally, he detailed his encounter with Irbron, the ensuing assault and imprisonment, and the life, boon, and curse he had demanded in recompense.
As Ori recounted his struggles, the dreamscape responded, the winds tossing the pink-leafed grasses. Freya listened with pursed lips, her glowing presence a steady anchor amidst the tumult of his emotional overspill. When he finished, she spoke curtly.
"You feel like you were lied to?"
"Maybe? I don't know."
"But not by the Elven Queen?"
"No, not Harriet. I think I had this idea of finding peace, or some kind of safety, far away from the battlefield, before I started this trial. I guess mentally, I wasn't prepared for it."
"The blows that catch us unawares deal the most damage."
"Yeah," Ori agreed.
"But, Ori, this is still a trial, and all actions have consequences. Unless you limited yourself to having zero interactions with anyone, it would have been impossible for you to avoid conflict. In this case, a jilted ex-lover of your girlfriend."
"She's not my—"
"Ori, please do not complete that sentence, or else," Freya said, her voice suddenly icy.
"But—"
"Listen to me very carefully. I will offer you no relationship advice, but if you do not treat the women who care for you with respect, we will have a reckoning, you and I," Freya said with an air of finality that made Ori's astral form shiver.
"Freya?"
Freya sighed. "Hopefully, there will come a time when you'll look back at yourself now, at a time where you are no one and have nothing to your name, and yet you still manage to find people who care for you, and you'll weep in envy and nostalgia over more simplistic days."
Ori sat, his glowing eyes fixed on the distant horizon, his expression thoughtful. It was moments like this where, despite their comparable ages, Freya's improbable wealth of knowledge and experience humbled him.
"You think they actually love me?" he wondered.
"It is no subconscious thing to want to form such a bond; you have to be willing and present in mind, heart, and in the case of elves, spirit."
"How do you mean?" Ori pressed.
"Despite the obvious physical similarities, elves and humans are different. 'Their beauty belies an icy heart' is, I believe, the refrain many a human refers to whenever they have the misfortune of meeting a high elf."
"Icy heart? If that's the case, then why are they so… interested in me?"
"Boys…" Freya sighed. "AND you're a human too… so driven by physical appearances, a primal response to beauty so hard-coded into the brains of you males that it forms the basis of all worth and value judgements. So what if they are beautiful and you are not? All high elves are beautiful. In a culture where physical attractiveness is a birthright, how do you suspect they deem a suitor's worthiness?"
"I don't know. Personality?" Ori asked, genuinely curious.
"Ha! Just as physical attractiveness is the be-all and end-all for human males, elven females go loopy over souls, specifically inherent affinities. You likely got their knickers wet just by showing your mysterious transcendent affinity to them."
"That's mad! Wait, so you're saying all elves might find me attractive just because of my magic? Or my soul?"
"High Elves, and likely specifically the celestial elves like the Lunaesidhe and Solerial. Lesser elves are more fae-like, but I honestly don't know, Ori. Either way, before you plan on seducing your way through the high elven population, you'll need to gain some measure of strength to back up that transcendent affinity of yours. Until then, keep it in your pants."
"My magic or my—"
"You are such a boy," Freya growled.
"And what about the fae?" Ori asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"No."
"No, what do you mean?"
"I mean no, I won't be the one to tell you, and the day you eventually find out will be the day your head expands so large that it'll float off in the wind like a soap bubble."
"Ha, well, I guess I've to thank you for keeping my head attached. Anyway, I thought you weren't offering advice?" Ori smirked. "And besides, what about Harriet and Poppy?"
"What's done is done. I admire you for trying to work out the potential consequences of your actions, but in this case, it really is too late."
"And once again, I'm really confused," Ori sighed.
"You'll figure it out once you get over your insecurities," Freya sighed. "Besides, I'm more suited to knocking down big heads and over-inflated egos, not dealing with your current state; though I fear I've got my work cut out for me in future."
Ori smiled at the admission. "So you're confident we'll have a future? And that you'll stick around?"
"Yes. That's becoming obvious to me now. I'll still need to return to the glade at some point, but…" As Freya continued, Ori's heart lifted at her stoic certainty. It was like she saw his success as an unavoidable fact, her burden of inevitability.
"How? And why would you stay with me? I'm not even sure what I'm going to do if we get out of that prison."
"Which is exactly why I’m going to stick around and keep you out of causing too much trouble. For now, let the future rest and focus your mind on the now. As all of this," Freya buzzed over Ori's head, her movements pointing out the stormy clouds above, "has shown, you lack control in the Dreaming, and stewing in your anger isn't going to help anything. Time to channel that energy into something productive."
"Yeah," Ori agreed, standing up to show he was ready for some exercises.
"Now, I suggest we do some training. Time away from the problems of the Waking will help you blow off some steam," Freya continued.
Ori took a deep breath, letting Freya's words and the tranquillity of the dream wash over him. "Yeah, alright. Training sounds good. Where do we start?"
Freya chuckled. "Control. Your aura is leaking emotions all over the place. Focus on calming your mind and visualise your aura as you do so."
As Ori concentrated, Freya guided him through the process of stabilising his presence in the dreamscape. The winds died down, the colours harmonising into serene, prismatic pinks, purples, and blues.
"That's better," Freya remarked. "Now, let's see if you can maintain that while we work on your dream focus."
"My dream focus?"
Ori thought for a moment, then pulled out the broken fragments of the soul-bound artefact he had named after Lady Seraphine. The once-pristine crystalline wand now lay in shattered pieces, glittering in his palm. "I could try using these."
Freya's form pulsed with curiosity. "That is your focus from the waking world, yes? The fractured soul-bound artefact wand." Ori nodded. "It could work; the emotional connection is certainly there, and the crystal should be able to channel intent, which is paramount in the Dreaming. It'll also be interesting to see if it changes when you get round to repairing it. Come, let us begin."
As Freya guided Ori through stabilising his aura, she began discussing various aspects of dream manipulation. "Now that you've got some control over your emotional projection, it's time to learn concealment within the Dreaming."
Ori nodded, focusing on maintaining the calming visualisation of his aura. "Like hiding from other dreamers?"
"Yes," Freya confirmed. "The Dreaming is vast and unpredictable. You may need to observe without being noticed or protect yourself from unwanted attention. You'll need to blend in with the dream environment, making your presence unobtrusive."
Freya demonstrated by dimming her spectral form until she was barely distinguishable from the shimmering auroras above. Ori concentrated, attempting to mimic her technique. Gradually, his astral form faded, blending perfectly into the prismatic hues of the dreamscape.
"Good," Freya praised as Ori's form became nearly invisible. "With practice, you'll maintain this concealment even while interacting with the dream."
"Yeah, this doesn’t feel like pervy dream spying, not one bit."
"Ori!"
Next, Freya moved on to permanence and dream creation. "The Dreaming is mutable, responding to the subconscious. However, it's possible to create lasting constructs—to shape the dream with intent and will."
Ori thought of the Dreamwalkers' Ward, the enchanted brooch designed to protect the wearer from dream intrusions. "Could I use it with the ward I've been working on?"
Freya nodded. "It’s similar in principle. The Dreamwalkers' Ward is a physical anchor, a conduit for dream magic to affect the waking world. But within the Dreaming, you can create barriers, sanctuaries, or even weapons, given sufficient focus and power."
Ori's eyes widened slightly. "Weapons? To harm other dreamers?"
Freya's form pulsed with caution. "In extreme cases. Dream constructs can harm, scare, or disorient. But such actions have consequences, both within the dream and in the waking world, with spillover varying greatly depending on your current plane of existence."
"Like, what kind of consequences?"
"Well, as you're on the elemental plane, dream spillover is rarer and less damaging. But, for example, if crafted using a strong enough intent within a domain, any transmutations made would last several seconds—less so if against another Awakened."
"Wait, dream affinity allows me to transmute… anything within my domain?"
"WITH A STRONG ENOUGH INTENT!" Freya exclaimed. "Intent is the key; you need to instinctively know and understand what you're transmuting, and that will require familiarity borne of hard-earned practice."
Freya then introduced using Split Mind in the Dreaming. "Your Split Mind transmutation can be applied here. In the Dreaming, it allows you to be in multiple places at once, to explore different aspects of the dream simultaneously."
Ori's astral form split into three, each examining the others with curiosity. Each third seemed faded or semi-transparent, though nowhere near the exact mathematical third of opacity he expected.
"Rah, this is mad, fam. I’m feelin' all three perspectives at once."
Freya giggled. "It takes getting used to, but it can be incredibly useful for gathering information or multitasking within the dream."
As the training continued, Freya taught Ori to sense the dreams of those physically close to him in the waking world. "Every dreamer leaves a unique imprint, a resonance detectable while dreamwalking. With practice, you'll locate and even enter the dreams of those around you."
Ori focused, reaching out with his dream senses. He felt the faint, shimmering presence of Harriet and Poppy, their dreams tantalisingly close yet completely separate. "I think I can feel them, Harriet and Poppy. Their dreams are like distant stars, glimmering on the horizon."
Freya's form pulsed with approval. "Very good. Remember, entering another's dream uninvited should only be done with trust and consent."
"Unless they're demons."
Freya sighed. "Exceptions prove the rule."
As the lesson drew to a close, Freya offered a final reminder. "Ori, when you cross the boundaries between dreams… in those spaces between spaces lie ancient, strange entities. Don't linger, and don't leave a trace. Such beings are best left undisturbed."
"Yeah, you’ve already told me about them. I'll be careful," Ori nodded as the waking world slowly began to regain its hold over his consciousness.