The path of Arcane - Journal of Syndreth Fieryfey

[Cinta]

BEWARE!

I'm not a professional writer. I enjoy experimenting with different writing styles, and some parts are intentionally over-dramatized.
For those who recognize their characters mentioned here: I love to RP with you all, you gave me some wonderful times playing here and a ton of new ideas to be preserved in the short stories! This is the reason why you are mentioned below, regardless of what happens in Syndreth's mind.
(I mean, she's and elf. She can't help being impulsive and chaotic.)

---

- Memories of a home -

It was a morning of a typical summer day in Leuthilspar. The first rays of the raising sun shyly shined through the canopy of the shadowtop trees, slowly warming up the leaf-covered ground of the living areas in the forest city. Sitting on the terrace of one of these tree homes, a young, maybe a few ten years old sun elf girl was dangling her legs in boredom. The girl sat there since dawn, with a slight hint of longing in her eyes, as she watched her two older brothers clashing together again and again in a joyful sparring. The boys - or men, in just a few years - gracefully tumbled away or parried the swings vice versa, neither seemed able to overcome the other. Their fight was too savage for the girl to join, and they would not even have the patience to let her in. They are to be joining the palace guard - a high valued rank, based on the tone of the adults - when they come of age. So the girl just sat there, pretending to be fully content examining the large, hardcover book she just acquired from her father's library.

A tall elven man, clad in an ornamented mage's robe, descended on the spiral staircase that was magically transformed form the living branches of the ancient tree, leading up to their home. The man stopped on the terrace, watching his sons' duel with an expressionless face for a time. Then he looked down to the girl and raised his brows slightly when recognized the contents of the book. Her little daughter grinned to him but dared not to speak. He let out a soft sigh when an idea came to his mind, and spoke to her. "Sill'yndrethenill, dress up. You are coming with me." With that, he turned from her and left towards the gardens to summon his silver haired steed. The girl stared after him at first with a dumbfound expression, then jumped up and rushed up on the stairs.

The road leading out from the city was enchantingly beautiful. When they reached the clearing along the river Shaelyn, they turned right to follow the rushing waves towards the Great Sea. In a comforting rhythm, the mount's hooves clattered on the magic-sculpted crystal pavement of the road. Sill'yndrethenill clung on her father's robe with her hands, while gazing back to where the river came from. A long way backwards, on the two sides of the river valley, raising from green slopes of vineyards and fragrant groves, a twin mountain reached towards the sky, giving home - as she heard - to giant eagles and pegasi.

When the sun was at it's zenith, they reached the sea. There her father unstrapped his luggage from the stead and started with determined steps towards the salty water. Sill' barely managed not to start jumping around - She heard about this! She knew what will happen! - while she ran after him. The man stopped before the waves and started chanting while forming a circle with his arms around himself and the girl. In that instant, a blueish sphere formed around their head, making it possible - as she found out soon - to breath under the water! This way they continued their journey on the white sand, into and under the water, following a flickering light source in the depth. They were not far from the shore, when lithe figures appeared around them. Sea elves with deep green skin, striped and mottled with brown, dressed lightly in clothes resembling underwater plants. They came in a group of ten, to greet the esteemed enchanter from the isle, and the wizard presented them his wares of enchanted necklaces, bracelets, small daggers and even a gleaming trident. For this rare merchandise, the aquatic ones offered lumps of special minerals, hand sized pearls and elongated bones of strange underwater creatures.

While the adults bartered, Sill' hovered around with an awed expression. Her curiosity even increased when she discovered an other child about her age, hiding behind a nearby rock formation on the seafloor. Taking a glance on her occupied father, Sill' decided to float closer to the sea elf youngster. The other - who was also a girl - stared at her with frightened eyes, her gills rising and falling at a fast pace, seeming ready to flee in every moment. The sun elf girl stared back at her with wide eyes, then driven by a sudden idea, Sill' bowed slightly and reached to her left arm to take off her bracelet, stapled together from rose quartz crystals. The other girl froze in place, but not for long before a smile widened across her face. With a sudden movement, she grabbed the bracelet and examined it curiously. Then the sea elf girl reached to her neck to take off a chain of deep-sea shells and gave them to Sill'yndrethenill.

Sill' watched the chained shells dancing in her hand with the soft currents, when her palm started to moist, as if her father's spell would start to loose it's power to shelter her from the salty water...

---

A teardrop falling on her resting hands roused Sill' from her reverie. It has been more than fifty years ago that she had to leave Evermeet, but these memories haunted her nonetheless. More than fifty years, that she was called to her father's study room, to learn about the task that would exile her from their home, for nearly a lifetime.

Preparing for the day somehow felt especially long that day. Since a time now, she lived in Evereska among her People, had her own room on a magnificent blueleaf tree in the city outskirts, had a master in the Arcane that she respected, and the chores as an apprentice were not overly strenuous... So why is that she felt so out of place?

[Cinta]

- Faith -

Their cart rattled harshly in the night, following the rough route towards east. The caravan left Loudwater a tenday ago, but they were still far from the Lonely Moor, where the two elf would say their farewell to the Black Road and make their way towards Evereska through the wilderness. The moon elf wizard sitting next to the carter was in a particularly good mood, and tirelessly entertained the merchants with not-always-respectful stories of his homeland and People, to the great and loud amusement of those around him. Following the cart on foot, a young looking sun elf mageling and a human monk of middle age marched together in relative silence. They were immersed in a quiet conversation, and the elf girl listened to the man's explanations with wide eyes.

They spent the last month in Loudwater, purchasing crafting and spell components from the passing merchant caravans during the day, and gathering lore and socializing at nights - in the latter, her master was really good at, but for Sill', talking to strangers felt more like a bother. However on the morning when their caravan would depart from the riverside town, the elf girl met the monk named Geran, when she approached the carts to pack up the stuff they purchased during the past weeks. The man was meditating there since dawn, and offered his help with the packages. Having nothing else to do until the departure, they engaged in a polite conversation, which later transformed into an inquiring discussion accompanying them for the following weeks. Geran was good-tempered and modest, perceptive and open-minded, and had a comforting look in his eyes, that made it easy for Sill'yndrethenill to talk about anything that was on her mind. She even overlooked him calling her Syndreth - teasingly saying that her elven name was too hard to pronounce.

So during the long trip, she talked about how lost she felt when she had to leave Evermeet, which was a fragment of Anvandor given to their ancestors by Corellon Larethian as a place of refuge on Toril. There, every elf could feel the presence of the Seldarine when looking at the Green Island's ancient trees providing them shelter, the rock fortresses and crystal towers raised from the earth itself, all remaining in natural contact with the land that gave home to only creatures friendly to the elves. She confessed how distant the Gods of her People felt since she had to leave the land that was the final station of Retreat for others. And without divine guidance, how meaningless and lost she felt on this crude land. She talked about how her mind wandered, finding solace only in the Art, and only when working with magic did she feel tranquil and sincere. She even told him how she thought that magic was a beautiful component of the flowing energies composing this world, that it's not inherently good or evil in it's nature, and all those using it should strive to preserve the balance of this neutrality.

Geran, in return, told her about his life and how he worshiped his God, not through religious ceremonies and prayers, but through his actions following the principles of the Deity he had chosen. He talked about how the tiresome training was his ceremony, contemplation on the best path to walk was his prayer, and always working hard to act in accordance with those principles was his worship. "I'm not sure how it goes with elves" - he said - "but most of our kind doesn't receive a Divine call ever in our lives. Most of us just tend to follow the principles we create based on our experiences in life. Though..." - he smiled humbly - "after hearing you talk, I think you already have a Godess you could relate to. Even if you couldn't name her yet."

---

Few years later, another peaceful morning greeted the city of Evereska, and found Syndreth in quiet meditation on her balcony. Last night - as sudden as it was - she got the order to leave Evereska and make her way to the Sword Coasts without delay.

She tied up her silken chestnut hair into a large knot, a hairdo that fits better traveling the roads. She packed in all her belongings, reaching lastly for the small communication orb. The purple and gold hued globe was small, could be easily hidden in one's palm, framed by a delicate cage of curving titanium wires. She let the orb slip into her belt-pouch, next to the small book she held there. Deep in thought, she caressed the edges of the book, running down her fingers on the silver chain sealing the book and bearing the symbol of the Godess of Mysteries on it's end. After a long breath, she stepped towards the door.

[Cinta]

- Insight -

This urging feeling started when she memorized her first fire evocation. She remembered well how she struggled with the simplest spells that would call the flames to life... Every time when she thought of letting the incantation on its way, a painful itching rose in her nerves. Each and every time, for long years, like she was missing something, a vital element that would take her closer to the true nature of the magical flames. How much time it took till she understood how to form this urging - which, now she knew, was a wonderful gift of the Godess - into this power readily building up in her mind...

Nowadays? It was easy as an orcish puzzle. Syndreth sweeped her eyes swiftly around the chamber that was transformed into a battleground not long ago, then fixated on a kobold shaman, barking commands on the side. The phrases for Aganazaar's Scorcher started to wake in her mind, but died instantly into a sharp image of desiring tongues of flame. In the same time she spread the fingers of her outstretched fist upwards, and with a sudden hiss, a fiery burst of fire engulfed the vermin, making it to fall to the ground and roll around hysterically. Syndreth blinked, trying to clear her mind from the sudden weight of tangled syllables. But the Scorcher was still there in her mind untouched, she knew, thus allowing her to draw insight from it's structure and shape her own image of fire again and again. She allowed herself a little, grateful smile.

The battered ranger who accompanied her that afternoon, leaped back from the flames bursting up so close to him, and offered only an annoyed growl as an answer.

[Cinta]

- Practice and practice -

With eyes closed, she stood before the statue of the Lady of Mysteries for a long time. The Temple of Mystra was peaceful as usual, the entry-portal quietly hummed, golden and purple light globes hovered around, forming a hypnotizing flow of Arcane energy inside the Altar chamber. The faint background lighting slowly undulated, following the rhythm of the gently tinkling sound that filled the room. From time to time, distinct singing and chanting could be heard, though they were alone in the Temple. Somewhere on her right, Priestess Neela tirelessly tended to her chores around the chamber. Syndreth felt pleased just by standing there. She needed a quiet place to silence her mind. Staying in an inn tonight would not do, the chattering groups of people enjoying themselves would tire her for some reason.

After a time, she opened her eyes and bent her head to the statue, then moved to sit on the marble ledge of one of the small, glittering ponds encircling the stone pillars of the chamber. From her bag, she took out three scrolls that looked especially interesting when she first glanced at them in the caves. Folding out the first scroll, she tried to solve the gibberish writings of a late kobold shaman. 'Strength of a Bull' - it was obvious from the illustration on the parchment's upper corner. Below that, a jumbled mass of Dragonic words and self-invented pictographs followed, as a reminder for the writer, how to move it's reptilian hands and which tone to use for the different syllables of the incantation. It took her some time to comprehend the method of casting used by the kobold, and even more time to develop a clear vision in her mind for what would she be required to do to achieve the same results. So she just sat there, immersed in the process of learning, getting her mind used to the syllables and fine movements that would allow her to drew power from the Wave. Usually that was the hardest part, and success could only be determined by practical tests.

After a time, apparently long forgotten about her environment, Syndreth got up and stood into a firm stance, and let her arms follow the conceived series of movements, while her tongue formed the incantation on a low-pitched voice. Just in that instant that she finished the casting, a swift trembling run through her body, leaving only a fleeting soreness, as her muscles started to expand in size and physical strength. It was a success, she knew immediately. Looking down, she measured her new shape with an amused smile, and absently tried to accustom to the feeling of much broader shoulders. Then the crackling voice of her boat-cut gown being torn in the front startled her from her contentment. She quickly glanced to Neela, but the priestess seemed to be occupied by her chores and did not gave her attention. With a relieved smile, Syndreth pinned her cloak together at a lower position, and sat down again to write down the spell to her book. Her version was mainly in elven, curving lines filling four pages.

The contents of the second scroll turned to be already known to her - a transmutation that would quicken one's movement - written in common, and the scroll contained all the components needed for the casting. It will serve her well as a reserve to use anytime, but not that interesting as a research material..

But the third, that is special. Fire evocation - a 'Fireball', according to the scriber - that would launch a glowing, pea-sized bead from the caster's finger, just to detonate some distance away into an explosion of flames, setting fire to combustibles and melting away even metals of low melting points, not distinguishing friends from foes. A crude tool of destruction, fitting for the ambitious human mages of these lands... Syndreth licked her lips contemplating. Setting prejudice aside, it was part of her tasks to learn and experience as much as she can regarding the magic of this land, and report back her findings.

Some minutes later, Syndreth left the gates of Baldur's towards the farmlands to find the least flammable spot somewhere behind the fields.

[Cinta]

- Virtue? -

The happenings with that 'Fireball' yesterday... It was unworthy of an Ar-Tel'Quessir of her caliber. Nowadays, she appears to be impatient and hasty. From where these habits even came from? She already bought a new robe, since the last one got torn and slightly burnt on the sleeves. Still, she will have to do something with those ill-fated trees..

---

She spent that night in a room in the Blade and Stars. Bought some rice-filled grape leafs earlier that day, those now resting untouched on the nightstand next to her. She could not bring herself to eat. Instead, lying on her back on the bed, deep brown hair unfolding in all directions over the bed-sheet, she was reading the letter bearing the seal of the Church of Mystra probably for the tenth time. 'Requirements for application', the title stated.
She laid down her arm with the letter by her side and stared at the ceiling with an annoyed grimace. The requirements to join was fair enough, she had to admit, but she had a problem with the first line: 'Documents attesting virtue, signed by two people'. Now, she would hardly find even one person here to sign something like that for her, not to mention two... Turning on her belly, she pensively watched Othis leisurely licking his paws on the middle of the dinning table. The weasel seemed to be undisturbed by the progression of events.

Maybe she could request an 'Attesting' letter from Master Elandorr and one of his colleagues in Evereska... Though she shouldn't use her contacts so openly for personal issues, this could be reasoned well. Her own prowess in the Art and the responsibility to build connections with local wizards could both benefit from her joining the Temple... The question is, how personal is this for her? What does she want to achieve anyway? Something stirred inside her that made her chest tighten, her pride trying in vain to block the answer coming from deep within her heart to reach her mind... Maybe you just want a place to cling into, a place to call home...

She sat up and closed her eyes to silence her mind. Patience. She will obtain these documents by her own work. For that is what her masters would expect from her. And that is what she expects form herself.

[Cinta]

//OOC: Most entries have been rewritten to fit the new BIO. //

[Cinta]

- Request granted -

The journey back from Candlekeep was uneventful and relatively fast. The wandering wizardess knocked her boots together to shake off some of the mud stuck on her sole before entering the Blade and Stars. Thinking back to the last few days, Syndreth felt satisfied. She found a handful of useful books in the Keep's library and even managed to evade getting in a conflict... When entering the inn, some people turned to see her, but did not gave her more attention. Stepping closer to the bar, Hesper handed her a packet of parchment coiled up into a thick roll, a package delivered for her some days ago.

---

One and half an hour later, Syndreth was leaning on the table with her elbows, and didn't really understood what was in front of her. The parchments didn't hold any introductory part but it was form her master, she recognized the handwriting. And she did ask her master to send her a copy of a spell, that would enable her to correct her mistake. But the contents of these parchments... On twelve pages, in great detail, the scrolls contained movements that resembled dance steps more than somatics of a spell, and the verbal components felt more like verses of a song... Could this be an ancient Tel'Quessir ritual that their ancestors used to enhance the growth of vegetation? She never heard about anything similar to this, the whole structure of the 'spell' felt strange and suspicious. It can't be... It is true that she made a mistake by being careless with those flames, but Master Elandorr wouldn't be so cruel to give her a lesson this way, by making fun of her, would he?

She flip through the pages one more time. This is ridiculous. This whole process feels like an 'elven lass' dancing and singing around a bunch of trees. This is way too stereotypical, the exact image of what a dwarf would paint of her People...

She turned the last page, and found a footnote on the backside. "Results may not be seen within a tenday. Effectiveness will be enhanced, if repeated every night." Syndreth buried her face in her palms and quietly groaned.

[Cinta]

- "The reason I am here" -

The enchanted key turned in the keyhole, and the heavy metal barriers rolled away form the entrance in a soundless grace. Now a portal - just a long step - and she was inside the Scholar's Quarters. A small room greeted her when reaching the end of the corridor, inside the room six beds and six chests waited for the residents to occupy. The only decoration of the room was a pair of tapestries hanging on the two sides of the vaulted window. "Study over anything else, is it?" She smiled. Traveling gear and backpack was dropped down to the bed next to the window. She will live here alone for a time anyway.

When walking back on the long corridor lined with bookshelves, along the vacant living quarters and reading room, the surrounding silence formed a thought in her mind. The empty Temple of the Lady of Mysteries symbolized the same thing, that made her fall in love with magic at first. It hold an inconceivable number of possibilities waiting to be discovered.

---

As usual, ten gold was the rent for one night in the Blade and Stars. But today, she didn't come here to rest. When reaching her room, Syndreth closed the door and carefully covered the keyhole by hanging her cloak on the handle. After looking around one last time, she closed the curtains on the window and quietly started the incantation of a spell. Arcane energy woke in her hands and flowed along the threads of the Wave in every direction, without any reflection in the room and it's vicinity. A few moment was enough to see, there was no magic hidden around. She reached to her belt to take out a small purple-hued orb, then from her tied-up hair pulled out a pair of golden hairpins. The pins had the shape of an elongated helix with a flared tripod on their thicker ends. With a practiced movement, she twined the pins together to create a small mounting, standing on a tripod on one end, holding the orb with the tripod on the other end. When the orb was in it's place, she had nothing more to do than wait for the item to do it's purpose. She watched in silence as their family crest came to life within the depths of the orb; a stylized reddish-orange wing appeared, then burned out in amber flames.

"Sill'yndrethenill at your service, Great Mothers." She said then in melodic Espruar.

[Cinta]

- Usal -

(Hunt)

Two lithe figures sneaked in the dark passages of the underground cave beneath the malodorous orc lair. The movement of the elven man on the lead was perfection itself, never making a wrong move or false step that would betray his presence between the shadows. Two slender blades were sheathed carefully at his hips, ready to be drawn anytime, and a hooded dark cloak covered his head and the shimmering of the sleek black scales on his armor. The elven woman following him was much less skilled in hiding, frequently halting her movement when the man raised his hand, and waiting patiently while the other went ahead scouting. Even if not stealthy, her movements held the grace of a cat, while her hands rested on the strap that held her staff in it's place. For long hours, they continued their hunt in silence, without a word wasted to discuss the future or the past, trusting in each other's decisions of the moment while they encountered orcish patrols again and again. Just like how an elven hunting party should be...

Several voices of crude orcish language could be heard from the direction of the broad chamber that waited them after a curve in the cave tunnel. "Around a dozen, two of them at least shamans." The man's hands signaled when he turned back to see the other elf. The woman nodded quickly, then watched the man starting off, following the shadowy nooks along the cave wall, where the shimmering light of the phosphorescent mushrooms couldn't reach him.

Then she leaned to the wall tightly and waited. Water was dripping somewhere near. She just listened. Rowdy laughing came from the chamber. She just waited. Then something suddenly thud on the ground and the laughter changed to alarming shouts. Her heart started to race. Sounds of metal clanging on metal. Her task is to remain hidden til the right moment. Arrows took off and hissed in the air. They must have gathered around him by now. Arcane words of summoning called out whatever creatures. Wait it out. Dire roars indicated that the summoned beasts noticed the retreating ranger. Now she spun and started towards the cavern. Metal clanging, lightning cracking. He can't be hurt yet, for she was the one warding him. She tried to calm her racing heart. An archer spotted her and aimed from the other side of the chamber. Concentrate. She moved her hands and started to speak the words of the incantation. An arrow bounced off of her spell shield. Too late.

While mouthing the last words of the spell, she glanced to the man engaging in a savage dance of whirling blades in the center of the chamber. Suddenly several masses of flame balls appeared in the air and blasted down on everyone standing inside the cavern. The chamber was huge, but not huge enough even for those standing by the walls, for the flames reached everyone who was not quick enough to dodge the fiery bursts. Orcs fell to the ground or tumbled, but not long before meeting a pair of slender scimitars. The man never slowed his assault, even when the flames enfolded him. He trusted her wardings - the thought warmed her heart. Even when bleeding from several wounds, his attacks were fierce but controlled. This was not the first time she felt awe about the feral strength of the wood elf. The pair of the burned furred dire-bears went berserk in the meantime, not caring anymore to trample over the rolling orcs, and nearly jumped on the elf slashing his way through the weakening circle around him. The woman quickly spat an arcane command and moved her fingers in a difficult manner before pointing on the healthiest looking dire-bear. The beast was about to rise on two legs and smash down with all weight, when it suddenly disappeared in thin air. Another orc went down by the keen elven blades, trying to parry in vain. One of the shamans on the back regained his footing and fixated his eyes on the nearing elf, casting a spell that would send him stumble around in fear, providing a perfect aim for the remaining warriors. The wood elf, however, just shook his head between two spin, and made a hateful look in the direction of the shaman, before tumbling away from the dire-bear's reach. Time to cut the source of evil.

An arrow was deflected by the shield spell, another bounced off of her magically hardened skin. Concentrate! The sun elf wizard reached her fingers again and managed to dismiss the other bear-beast. Suddenly, the threads of the Wave what she tangled into difficult magical shields, started to unfold, her wards dissipating around her. She quickly looked up to the other end of the cavern, and answered the orc spell-caster's insult with shooting sharp ice darts from her fingertips. The already injured orc staggered back, and never saw the flashing of the two scimitars behind him. The mystic fell to the ground to join his evil god in the afterlife. Suddenly the ground rumbled around the sun elf wizard, and skeleton warriors rose from the earth to surround her. She barely managed to leap back in a distance that would give her enough time to conjure a summon on her own. A celestial lion appeared between her and the undead, engaging in close combat with two of them. The third one however - Damn it to the Nine Hells - still strolled towards her and rose it's axe to cut her in two pieces. With just a thought, colorful lights whirled up suddenly to provide her aegis, absorbing entirely the force of the first blow. She has to disappear! An other arrow hissed near her ear and stripped the forming spell from her mind. Blast it... She leaped back again and reached to her belt to grab a potion. The second blow of the skeleton ate up the lingering remains of her protection and painfully grazed her shoulder. She managed to gulp down most of the colorless liquid from the bottle. Falling back, she became invisible, then just rolled, further and further away, without thinking.

The second shaman must have saw the most actual danger nearing him, for he turned towards the wood elf, spatting a curse and stepping back quickly. The man suddenly felt weaker, his legs denying him, he slowed his charge. Contemplating for a moment, he looked back to regard his companion, but the woman was nowhere to be seen, only a huge amber colored lion rampaged between three glowing eyed skeletons. The ranger scowled in disgust. Arrows started to shoot towards him, so he just tumbled away and changed his sabers to the finely crafted longbow. Fired once, the orc caster screamed up, his injured arm falling down. He rolled then fired again, the caster fell back to lie on the ground motionless. Somewhere on the side, the celestial lion painfully roared under the cruel assault of the undead warriors, and started to dissolve to return to his home plane. Just a breath later, the skeletons fell apart into a heap of bones, when their summoner sighed the last at the other end of the chamber.

Time was enough for the remaining archers to overturn a huge table and locate themselves in the best position against the wood elf slowly advancing towards them. The man seemed exhausted and injured enough, their confidence revived. But then the world suddenly blow up between them, angry flames ripped apart the air and sent them flying. They would never again make the mistake to gather so close to each other when a wizard is out of sight.

Smoke flew up, ash drifted down, and the wood elf hung his bow back across his chest. Looking on his left, he saw a rather weary wizardess, aquamarine colored robe torn and dusty, her bare shoulder bleeding and hair escaping from the bun on one side.
"I need to rest." She stated with an annoyed grimace on her face.
The man nodded then added: "And again, you came down into an orc lair wearing a dress."
The woman made a long sigh and turned to walk towards the pedestal standing at the back of the chamber.

[Cinta]

A crumpled letter was thrown inside the trash in the Scholars' Quarters.

The letter was read only once, it's contents now doomed to be forgotten:

"My dearest Pupil,

I hope this parchment finds you in good health. It came to my understanding that I accidentally swapped the addressing on my last two letters. So you must have received the one that I meant to send to my lady friend, containing a light exercise for the evenings. I certainly hope that my small mistake didn't cause you too much trouble.
Regarding the spell to grow those trees, you should consult with a druid.

With warm hugs,
Elandorr Gwaelon"

[Cinta]

For weeks, it went on like that. Meeting with the ranger was surprisingly easy, as if he purposely let her find him, just by walking around in the forest. Then they went on a hunt, like it was the most obvious thing to do in the world.

By nights they were out, by days Syndreth locked herself in the lab, sorting through all the spells she collected in her book so far. Time for practice was little, so she had to choose her spells carefully. Conjuration fascinated her since she was a child, bringing objects and creatures into manifestation felt like creating a piece of art, just like when the artist can see the finished painting in advance when the canvas is still blank. On the other hand, she found the enchantments wondrous, forcing others to surrender instead of killing them on sight sounded an elegant solution above anything else.
So she practiced till the words of those spells sounded familiar even after she emptied her mind, and her muscles seemed to follow the somatics on their own. Practice built up a hidden memory somewhere behind her consciousness, and her chosen spells became more effective even without her realizing it.

---

Leaves rattled under leather boots when the two elf engaged the orc scouting party in the Wood of Sharp Teeth. The roster was easy and well practiced, it's effectiveness giving them great confidence. In one encounter however, their luck changed. While casting, the wizard felt one of her enchantment spells to come out particularly powerful, as if the Wave welcomed her manipulation, enfolding around their opponents quicker and more merciless than ever, filling their minds with baleful thoughts of uncertainty and mistrust towards each other. At the same time, the ranger parried and tumbled a little closer to the core of the outspreading magical energy. An ominous sensation tickled in Syndreth, but the ranger doesn't seemed to stop his whirling, so she continued what she had to do.

When the last orc collapsed under the swing of the terrifying steel, the ranger whipped his head towards Syndreth, his face was clear confusion. A mind-blanking chill run up on her spine. The man locked his eyes on hers, and his expression changed to pure anger.
No, no, nooo... Mystra, you can't let that happen. But the effect of the spell was obvious. What do I have that could help?
For long and valuable moments, she just stood there and stared at the hastily nearing man. Her mind was blank. She stared at the slender blades in his hands and felt fear like never before.

The first cut of the enchanted blade destroyed her spell shield and woke her from her astonishment. No... This was soo wrong.. The scimitar that she enchanted even more by her own Art, cut through her protection like it was nothing.
I have to flee! She started the casting, but it was too late already. No. this shouldn't be happening. Mystra, aid me! She was vulnerable and she was too late. Her mind shouted out. Mystra! The ice-cold blade penetrated her abdomen and the word suddenly went dark.

---

When Syndreth regained consciousness again, she was lying on her back in a small grove, well hidden in the forest. A striking feeling made her hand slid to her stomach, but the wound seemed to be closed enough for some mysterious reasons, and the bandages was fresh and dry around it. So I've survived. She turned her head to the side and saw the ranger sitting next to her, his head lowered and resting in his hands. Their eyes met and the man spoke first.
"I... I don't know what happened..."
But she knew all too well. She pushed herself up to sit in front of the ranger, and made a long sigh, searching for the words to explain. This was all her fault.
The ranger didn't want to believe her at first, and maybe didn't believe her even at the end. Syndreth pleaded him not to blame himself but be angry at her instead. "I am angry now, is it any better?"

This was when the golden haired counselor of Doron Amar found them in the grove, and invited them to join her and take a rest at the elven village, what Syndreth gratefully accepted. The ranger however, seemed reluctant and upset, and said his farewell to them, walking off and disappearing between the shadows of the forest.

---

On the next day, Syndreth was loitering around in the church back in Baldur's Gate. No one was in the inner chambers at that time, for which she was grateful to the Gods. She felt sick just by thinking back on what happened, and for the first time in her life, she felt uneasiness when thinking on her magic.
When the evening came at last, Nezkreal found her sitting in the library. The knight's comforting presence and wisdom made her mind ease and revealed a path for her to correct her mistakes.

Even though she thought she was over with it. She needs to find a master again.

[Cinta]

- In Evereska again -

"Sill'yndrethenill, it was too long! Here, have a sit and entertain me, how are you faring?" The middle-aged moonelf wizard hurried to the wooden cabinet to fill two slender glasses with fine, scarlet colored wine. After stepping in the room, Syndreth took a long look around the familiar office of her former master, and felt an indistinct sadness overcasting her heart. She took off her deep blue cloak and hung it on one of the protruding boughs serving as a hanger, then accepted the glass offered to her. Her expression must have betrayed her thoughts, for the elf man leaned closer to catch her eyes.
"My dear girl, what happened?" With his short silver hair neatly styled back above the strict, dark brows, supplemented by that angular jaw line, framed by those ridiculously long standing collars, and with his well-practiced sweet tone, Master Elandorr always gave the impression of a protagonist of some epic poem of heroic deeds. The revelation made her smile.

In the mean time, pixie-looking creatures started to pour inside through the window, each bringing a small bowl of assorted delicacies, and preparing an evening meal on the table. Syndreth started to understand why does the esteemed ladies of the city keep the master illusionist in such high regard. She decided to get over with this discussion quickly.
"I came because I feel I'm loosing control of myself.. I've unintentionally endangered the life of myself and an other by my magic... I need someone to teach me, how to become better."

The wizard sat his glass down on the table and took a few steps towards the middle of the room. "Mistakes happen, what important is that we learn from them." Folding his hands behind his back, he talked to her facing the other side of the room. "You were let on your way being fully taught of what you need."
The tone of his last sentence made Syndreth's heart beat faster. "Mistakes? I nearly killed both of us!"
The moonelf suddenly turned to face her, his eyes mirroring a hint of compassion just for a second before answering on a lecturing tone. "Are you fearing your own spells? Then those spells must be practiced the most. Fear must be overcome by understanding our capabilities.." the change of his tone triggered an annoyed answer in the elf woman "I need council, not self-reflection. I'm fed up with my own company."
Disregarding her, the master illusionist continued "You already know everything you need. You know which spells are there to counter others, all that remains is careful planning and preparation." Elandorr focused his mind on the female, trying to catch her eyes again, but she seemed completely immersed in her melodrama by now.
"I have no sane purpose being on the Coast! I sit there, and do nothing, except occasionally endangering the lives of others.." She set down the fragile glass on the table with a force that made the man's mouth twitch. "Of course you have nothing worth of doing." He said. "You live in a human city, and worship a human Goddess, not to menti-"
"You wish me to abandon my faith?" She burst out.
Her master raised his voice to match the tone of hers when answering "I couldn't care less about your faith. What I say is to go out and meet our kin, get involved in their business!" with a dissatisfied frown, he looked through the woman from head to toe "You always sit on the side and wait for others to approach you for the sake of you pretty eyes.. If there's something that would make you incompetent for this task, then it's your attitude!"
The female's face went red in an instant.
"And why should I strive anyway? When was the last time that the work of one changed the direction of where the world is going? It will be never our actions that decide our People's fate.."
"You are questioning the wisdom of those living since centuries more than yourself." Elandorr's voice held a veiled warning.
The woman dropped her shoulders and stared at him with a desperate look on her face.
"Master, I am lost.. let me stay here just for a while, and lear-"
The man cut her sentence with a wave of his hand. "Fine, do whatever you want. Tomorrow you will start early by joining the chores of the apprentices." With that, he walked past her and through the door, leaving the woman alone in the room. The door shut itself with a theatrical slam.

Syndreth dropped down on the chair next to her. With folded arms, she watched the fragrant steam rising from the untouched meals for a long time.

[Cinta]

/// OOC notes added to the very beginning. The following few entries happened a way back on the story's timeline, but slowly I will come up to be up-to-date ///

[Cinta]

- Meeting with the Artist -

As another night has fallen on Evereska, the flickering glow of the circle of candles remained the only source of light in the small spell-chamber. But the dancing veil of shadows was soon broken, as the last of the whispered magic words brought the magic circle to life around the neatly painted calling diagram, filling the chamber with bluish gleaming. The large magic circle was somehow unfit to the tiny room, giving only a few feet distance between the runes and the wall where the caster could move around. But at the same time, this closeness gave a strange feeling of intimacy between the caster and the creature to be dragged to this plane, while providing a solid example how sure the wizard was in the power of her protective wards.

That night Syndreth wore an unusually elegant gown of traditional elven sewing. Her silky brown hair flowed down freely, except from a number of slim braids collecting the loose tresses above her temples. That time, appearance was important. The plane she planned to reach out, was the home of the noble creatures who fancied themselves as the guardians of artistry and beauty, the devotees of all things precious and lovely. They were said to love nothing more than an evening spent dancing and singing around the campfire, and these presumptions served as the basis of the wizard's strategy.

A diamond was placed in the middle of the diagram, and the wizard focused her mind on it while reciting the calling. For a moment, the air above the gem started to whirl, the light distorting around the edges of the momentary rift between the planes that formed the gate to Arborea. Through the rift, a humming beam of light shone through, and a slim humanoid creature appeared inside the circle, his complexion a variety of the colors of the flames from bone white to scarlet red. Then the humanoid form suddenly disappeared, rapidly transforming into a pillar of flame, bursting towards the magical barrier that held it inside the arcane markings. After long moments of trying in vain to brake out, the being must have decided to gain back it's composure, and the flames collapsed to form an elf-like figure, the fire dying out everywhere except the creature's narrowed eyes, where the flickering flames danced still. At last, a red-haired eladrin stood inside the circle, measuring the wizard with a resentful expression.

Staring into the creature's eyes, the wizard was enchanted by the primal beauty of the eladrin, feeling her resolve weaken to keep it locked inside the circle. But remembering her role at last, she averted her eyes from it's gaze and inclined her head in an elegant bow.
"Fair day to you, noble cousin. I am sorry for making you come here so sudden. I wish to offer you a deal that could prove interesting and useful for both of us."
The firre's flaming eyes looked through her from head to toe, then swept around the small room, considering the magic circle around him. "Not like I have a choice but to hear you out... Talk then spellweaver, what do you want from me?"
The wizard stepped closer to the ring of runes. "I offer a deal. You provide me your strength in the combats to come and your wisdom in the tests of the mind. In return I will let you experience this world in a way, that would surely pique your interest."
The firre crossed his arms, giving the female a dubious look. "You must be aware that I will not partake in any act that would go against my principles. What assurance can you give me, that I'm not wasting my time for the plots of an evil witch?"
The wizard locked her light golden-brown eyes with the creature's, and stepped as close to the edge of the circle as it was possible without disturbing the wardings. "I believe you have your own methods to find that out." She leveled her chin and let her arms down besides herself. The eladrin showed only a quick smile before accepting the invitation.

The first thing the wizard noticed was that the dancing orange sparkles from the firre's eyes started to enfold her, as if she was falling in a flaming pit through the creature's gaze. The fear of helplessness pierced her chest like a thousand needles, as she felt the firre's natural ability to detect thoughts starting to probe her. But she managed to steel her will to jump straight ahead into that vulnerable state, opening her mind to the creature, letting her face to smoothen and features to melt. Now she could feel the presence of the firre clearly, like a curious wind swirling through her thoughts, eager to learn. So she gave him what he came for, guiding him through her memories like they were on an exhibition. She showed him her happiness, her sorrow, the things she strive for, the things she loathed. Then she concentrated all her mind on that single ability of hers, the gift of the Goddess, and relived that fantastic moment of creation when the elemental flames was first born in her hands. Feeling a moment of silence from the probing wind, she opened her mouth. "I need someone to consult with. I need someone to trust with sharing my thoughts, to gain advice through a person who stands above the restless flow of this world."
With an exaggerated sigh, the firre let her go from his gaze, and the wizard just then realized that she was standing on her toes, leaning dangerously close above the circle. "What you propose is more than a single service. Borrowing a being's time all for yourself, don't you feel ashamed?"
The wizard hurried to regain her footing and composure, to answer on a calm tone. "What I propose is partnership over a longtime adventure on a land distant from your own. I don't ask for submission, but a common interest about what we could discover in this world. I wish to share the adventures and curious events coming in various forms, that would later provide base for epic novels to be written." She held a moment of silence, and continued with a solid determination in her eyes. "And I'm sure that I will find one of your people who would be thrilled to participate in those adventures. For this, I'm prepared to continue calling out to your land until I find that one individual."
The firre's laugh harshly bounced back from the stone walls of the chamber, but his gaze now held an amused interest over the orange flames. "Fair." The eladrin seemed to ponder for a moment. "So you require no service to be defined beforehand?"
The wizard's brows narrowed in thought before answering. "Come when I call, and return when either of us wishes for it first. Other than that, I hope I will provide entertainment enough for you to remain in my company."
The firre nodded, but his expression still held a hint of doubt. The wizard then turned her back to him, taking some light steps to the small table next to the wall, recovering a book, with golden lines engraved on it's hardened cover. Walking back, she handed it to the eladrin. The firre watched as the book crossed the air above the magic circle before reaching for it.
"It's a piece of poetry of a human. Even though living for so short time, some of them manages to create remarkable art. Consider this when you decide: what I propose is not just work to do, but joy of exotic kinds."
"Mhmm..." The firre acknowledged her saying with a small smile around the edges of his mouth, then flipped the book open. Either for testing the female's patience, or simply just enjoying the contents, he took a long time standing there, flipping through the pages. The wizard remained standing before him, her eyes scanning the eladrin's face for any hint of emotions.

"Interesting." When the eladrin looked up to her at last, the distant tone disappeared from his voice. "What is your name, Tel'quessir?"
"Sill'yndrethenill Sylrillis" The female bowed deeply when introducing.
"You can call me Calen. So how long would you need my company, Sill'yndrethenill?"
"Until we both find it fruitful."
"Then, Sill'yndrethenill Sylrillis, I agree to your conditions. Now, shall we move forward from this ridiculous situation?" He made a large movement with his arms, indicating the still glowing circle around him. The woman nodded, a content smile appearing on her face.
"I'm 'thrilled' to have a look around this new world..." The firre's careless grin showed up for the first time, and Syndreth had a feeling that she will see this expression a lot.

[Cinta]

/// The parts in blue were not written by me, nor does the story ends here! Only minor modifications were made to fit the texts together. ///

- A Dream -
I

Next night, when weariness crept upon Syndreth and she fell to her rest, the Reverie, she didn't notice... that she actually fell asleep.

~

It was a sunny day in Evereska- a place which with the Art and architecture reminded much of splendor of Evermeet. Syndreth remembered her master of the Art, Elandorr Gwaelon. Not a very pious person, yet he always held Tel'Seldarine in high respect, as all elves did. She remembered that time, the day when she was about to summon her first outsider - a small animal from plane of Faerie. She remembered the small rush of excitement at discovering new ways of the Art and the Weave, she remembered every single word of encouragement and guidance she has received.
She remembered. And relived her past in the sacred Reverie...

Yet... as she was about to finish casting of the spell to summon a small deer - her surrounding suddenly darkened. Beautiful gardens were replaced with wild, forest bushes. The open space closed in between ancient, white marble walls, reaching a long distance towards the sky. There was darkness in the hall that was not maintained for perhaps millennia... And then, there was light. And there was a song. As Syndreth turned around, she saw a wide hall with pillars reaching up towards the ceiling hidden in shadows, surrounding the center of the chamber. From a hole in the said ceiling - she noticed a shining brightly full moon that gently bestowed its light upon...

...Seven elven women, dressed in transparent white gowns. Each of them held each others hands as they sat in a circle. The hall were calm, serene. Sacred. The elven women chanted in unison some strange words and wordless songs without an end, but even as Syndreth couldn't quite understand what they are chanting, she felt it all had meaning. Greater meaning and fulfillment than anything she has met before. After several breaths that seemed like eternity, they suddenly say something she could finally understand.

"~Teeeeu'ivaeeee'ire. Neeeevae karask sehaaaaaaan reeeeevaaaar. Wyyyyliiiiiinta~"

~

And then she was awake. Realizing she has been dreaming asleep.