Page 126 of Beyond The Maples
Through everything we're reading, and the little I've been able to decipher from my chats with Sibs, magic is more of a cognizantentity than it is a "thing". It's almost the exact opposite of what we've been taught—that magic is a gift, completely controlled by the Gods. But the more I learn, the more I realize that can't be true. Some of these books describe magic as being sentient. There is no give without take, magic is in constant pursuit of balance.
"Well, I don't know if this is helpful, but it's sure... interesting," Farra says, coming to sit beside me.
"This talks about binding—how mortals can bind magical creatures to themselves..." Farra squints, "But it comes at a high cost."
I frown.
"Bind what? A sprite? What would that mean?"
"It would mean traditionally non-magical people would have access to another's magic, through the binding. But again, it says it's against the laws of nature and the binder gives up a piece of their essence—or soul—when doing so. But it's weird, because it goes on to say you can bindanything," she says, concern lacing her features.
My stomach sinks.
"Anything? Even a God?" I ask, as my heart thumps heavily in my chest. Didn't Sibs say something about Silvanis being bound?
Farra hums. "According to this, I'd say yes."
"Does it say how?" I ask, and I'm met with a frown.
"Not that I can see. It says something about the original leer stones, but it's really unclear."
"Good," I shudder. No one should have that kind of power, especially now.
I grab another one of the thicker books. It's old, and hard to read. Even though it's written in the common tongue, it uses such outdated language that I have to almost translate it in my head.
I want information for a few different reasons. One: I don't know if Zaphira is going to welcome a ragtag crew of their enemies with open arms. Information is easy to trade, but it has to be valuable enough. Two: it feels like once we're gone, I may never have the opportunity to figure out what's happening. If I'm leaving people behind, I'd like to leave them withsomething.Knowledge, at thevery least.
I look over the part of the book that goes over the compass. Found in the forest by our ancestors, it had been left by the Gods as a gift. The compass used to generate magic, giving and taking within the natural world, and dispersing magic through the natural web of life.
It's odd we even call it a compass at all. The older versions don't have direction markers on them. The eight prongs are symmetrical: four large alternating with four small. With all the information I have now, it almost looks like a star. The middle represents the 'mother and father' as Sibs put it, the outside symbols representing the four seasons and four Gods—or whatever they are. Are they really Gods, if they were once human?
A knock comes at the door, and I freeze for a moment before Leo and Tarius let themselves in. My body relaxes.
"We really gotta get better at locking that," Farra mumbles.
As far as I can tell, Leo and Farra have yet to make up. I'm one cranky look away from facilitating a feelings circle, but I force myself to stop micromanaging, and give them an opportunity to figure it out on their own.
Tarius awkwardly slumps down on the floor, sitting with us in a circle, before grabbing a book for himself to mull it over.
"Found anything useful yet?" he asks, to no one in particular.
I let out a tired groan. "Not really."
"That's too bad, but it's good we're leaving. Those death machines they are building are trouble," Tarius says casually, face buried in the book he picked up.
Farra and I glance at each other.
"What are you talking about?"
"You know, those things the engineers have been working on non-stop. It's why the bottom floor has security, I guess. I don't blame them. They look monstrous." He does a little shiver.
"Tarius, my man, you're going to have to give us a little more information,please," Leo says, calmly.
"Also, why are we just hearing about this now?! We've been info searching for weeks," Isay, exasperated.
Tarius actually looks hurt. "I'm sorry. I didn't think... it doesn't have anything to do with this stuff..." He points to the books in front of us. "I thought we were trying to figure out the past stuff... I... " He trails off, pink staining his cheeks.
"Hey, it's all good. We've all been busy, and you're right, we have been focused on figuring out the lost history. Can you tell us what you're talking about? What machines?" To someone else, the way I'm speaking might sound condescending. But I've noticed Tarius does better with soft, blunt direction.
