Ryn of Avonside

Reality bubbled back into being like I was surfacing after dunking my head in a bubble bath. Not a very skilled or practiced manoeuvre, that was for certain. Hopefully I'd get better at that kind of everyday magical task. My heart was too heavy to find any real amusement in my fumbling, however.

I’d come out in a place that was dark, but not the full dark of night in the Nameless Garden, where there was no band of ringworld high above to always reflect light down on us. Wind rustled and moved through the canopy of the trees around me, letting me know even before my eyes had adjusted that I was in a forest. The ground beneath my toes was covered in wet leaves, squishing gently under my weight. A little gross, but I’d grown used to that during my time in the garden.

Just in case, I began to put distance between myself and my exit point, walking randomly through the forest. It was a thoroughly normal temperate forest, which was a little jarring after the beautiful, glowing forest of Esra’s Grove. It seemed so dull and boring. When compared to the beautiful crystal trees that'd become normal sights recently… well, this place wasn’t spectacular.

I was also a little disappointed to see that it wasn’t the same forest as the one where I'd found the fruit— the trees were all ones that enjoyed a slightly more warm and humid environment, which told me that I was at least in another climate. The night air was also warmer than it had been near Avonside. Damn.

Eventually, I figured I had walked far enough and sat down wearily against the trunk of some random, thoroughly mundane tree. My feet were starting to hurt— the soil here wasn’t the perfect almost frothy loam that it was in the garden, and the small rocks and half decomposed sticks had been hurting my unguarded feet.

I pulled open the sack first, wanting to put on the clothing within so I didn’t have to lug the heavy sack around with it cutting painfully into my shoulder the whole time. Plus there were probably shoes inside. The first thing that came out was a large coat, I couldn’t make out the colour of it other than it was dark, possibly a navy blue or black. I placed it to the side for now and reached in again.

Next was a pair of leather greaves, then some tall, sturdy boots with an inch of grippy heel on them, the kind you saw soldiers using in old movies, except they were high, coming up to almost my knee. They also came with a pair of big woolen socks perfect for walking long distances.

I also found a pair of tight pants, a shirt, and a scarf that in the dim light of the ring, I could almost be certain was blue. All in all, it seemed like a pretty nice outfit, so I hurriedly undressed and put it all on... well, after cleaning my feet with the robe anyway. The pants were tighter than I thought they would be and I had to wiggle quite a lot to get them over my thighs and hips. Damn, this body was great but it came with some interesting new challenges.

The outfit had a calming effect over me, as though Esra’s forethought to get an outfit ready for me might mean that she could handle her own escape too, and that she hadn’t just sacrificed herself for me. Shit, I really hoped that wasn’t what she’d just done. I could see her pretending everything was fine in order to get me to leave, then throwing herself into the fight with no hope of winning. Nevermind, scratch that, still not calm.

What did I do now though? It was dark and I was hugely tired— the creation of my grove had taken so much out of me that I was beginning to sway on my feet. I couldn’t just sleep here in the forest though could I?

Wait! I had my grove! I could sleep there, I just had to hope it didn’t rain or anything. Esra had said I would return to my Grove if I entered the Nameless Garden, so surely if I just went right back in… I felt around again for that unique sensation, the one at the edge of my mind, the seams of reality. I asked them to part, pushing it thin once more and stepped through.

When I arrived, I found myself shrouded in cold, howling winds that plucked at my newly acquired clothing and threatened to send me tumbling towards the edge. Shit! I hadn’t thought about weather and stuff! I hunkered down against the biting air and tried to think, what could I do? Try reshaping things a little? Could I even do that? I guess I could try.

I called up what remained of my magical might, which was pitifully small after the day’s exertions, and tried to think of a solution to my problem. What about just making a hole in the ground for now? I’d have to hope it didn’t rain, but at least I’d be out of the wind.

With my magic in mental hand, I pushed downward, forcing the land to reshape itself to my mental image. The task was harder than I thought, sapping my strength almost entirely in the process. It worked though, I had a small foxhole, only barely big enough for me to fit in and keep out of the wind.

I fell into the hole in a heap, my brain feeling all kinds of fuzzy and tired. I was vaguely aware of pulling at the pack, dragging a blanket out of it and wrapping it around myself. Then I was gone, asleep in an instant.

When I woke, it was with a groggy, dull headache and a lack of fine motor skills. For all intents and purposes it felt like I was hungover, which I guessed was the fault of my over use of magic the previous day.

Fumbling my way into my pack, I blearily pulled out something that looked like dried meat and a waterskin, and promptly ate and drank the whole lot. Then, I crawled up above and called my green plant-skin to come to the surface, where it could drink in the light of the sun. Oh my word, that felt good. I threw off my coat and pulled my sleeves up for even more surface area, then kicked off my boots and struggled with my socks too. My shirt, pants, and greaves quickly followed.

Laying there almost naked as I basked in the sunlight, I tried to come to grips with everything that had happened. I felt so damn off balance right now, my life felt like a chaotic roller coaster of happiness and pulled rugs. I just wanted everything to calm down for two seconds.

I spent an hour or so there, just wallowing in my own misery. Why couldn’t life just let me be? I wanted my friends back, and Esra too. Wait… my friends! I had the ring tracking spell!

With new purpose, and a refreshed mind and body, I pulled myself to my feet and put all my clothes back on… with some effort again. Damn these clothes were tight in places. Next, I went to my pack and did an actual count of my resources. I found a flint and tinder kit, a few changes of underclothes, a standalone hood, and a bunch of dried and preserved foods and several other items that would be useful in just such a situation as mine. Esra had really prepared well for this eventuality. I needed to thank her the next time I saw her...

Feeling a little better prepared now, I transitioned back to the mundane realm, this time to find myself in a sunlight drenched woodland. It was the same place I’d left, obviously, but it seemed almost serene compared to the dark and foreboding version of itself it had been during the night.

Now to attempt that location spell! I thought back to my Grove and the plant in question, and sure enough it surged forward, eager to help. I channeled magic through it, excited to see how it worked. The spell activated, creating a sort of mental image in my mind. It was annoyingly vague, and I frowned,pushing more power into the spell.

Snap. The sudden sensation jolted me, and the spell abruptly failed. A spike of pure force leapt outwards, blowing a dead branch off a tree in a spray of sodden, rotten wood.

“Fucking hell,” I muttered, staring at the carnage.

What did I just do? The ring was fine— maybe a little warm…

Tentatively, I reached for the spell again… and found nothing. There was the faintest echo, like a ghost was answering my mental call, but other than that, nothing.

With trepidation, I swapped back to my Grove and immediately saw what I'd done wrong. The spell plant was a gently burning stump of its former self.

I guess that's what happened when you tried to shove too much power through one little plant. With a sigh, I knelt and began to recreate the plant from memory. White stem with black spots, magnetic vascular bundles, black leaves… oh, and of course channel the emotion of yearning through the plant. There… now plant—

The replica spell plant grew up out of the ground blissfully unaware of the fate of its previous kin. It was probably best if I kept it oblivious.

When I was sure it was matured, I left and attempted the spell again. The mental image returned— a sort of tugging sensation that was part tactile, part mental.

It was vague, mostly just directional information, four of the rings were pretty damn far away, but then… two weren’t. Two were much, much closer.

Why had my friends split up? Why were two of them off on their own out here while the others were probably back at the university? I could tell because the two on their own seemed to be moving at quite a pace, while the others were moving only a little or else entirely stationary.

I had absolutely no idea where I was, what the lay of the land was like beyond what my eyes could see and I certainly had no idea about any of the people who called this region home. Which meant I didn’t really have any decisions to make other than, ‘Walk in the direction of my friends and hope for the best.’

So that’s exactly what I did, the pack on my shoulders, the empty bag safely stuffed inside, and my eyes wandering about me for anything that might be useful or harmful.

I walked for hours, the sun rising overhead until it dimmed to mark midday while it passed behind the other side of the ring. A thought occurred to me as that happened, something that really should have been the first thing on my mind after I realised magic was more than just myth. I was standing on a ring world, a ring world where magic was at least moderately widespread and integrated into some sort of medieval society.

Ring worlds were ostensibly the realm of science fiction. How the hell did this all work together? How did it connect and fit, because I was drawing a blank. Had the builders of the ring world used magic to create it, rather than old fashioned technology, as we were used to it? Was there a difference? Were we in an entirely different reality from our home, one where magic was just part of the laws of the universe? Shit, all I had were questions upon questions. None of which would actively help me right now, but at least it passed the time and kept me from worrying about Esra or my friends.

Eventually, the woodlands began to thin, and I found myself emerging into farmland— rolling fields of cropland in the middle of their growth cycle. Something like wheat or maybe rye, by the looks of things, although there were also pastures with baby animals frollicking among their older kin, as well as orchards in the middle of bloom. It was springtime in this portion of the ring. Crazy— that the ring could have seasons. I wonder how that worked?

I found a dirt road that led in the direction I wanted and began to follow it, all but openly staring like a tourist at the thoroughly mundane medieval life around me. It was about the time I saw my first random farm worker stop and gawk at me that I realised I was walking around without my disguise, and anyone could see that I was a mage. How could anyone miss my shining magenta hair? Quickly, I remedied that fact, pulling the normal human disguise spell over myself.

I didn’t feel any different, but a quick glance in a puddle confirmed the spell was working. I just hoped that news didn’t spread all over the place that there was a beautiful mage walking around. As an extra precaution I fished inside my pack and put the hood on, then wrapped my scarf around the lower half of my face. I didn’t know if I would be more or less vulnerable as a lone, stunningly gorgeous woman in medieval land, or a lone, stunningly gorgeous mage. I wasn’t going to tempt fate, I needed to get to my friends, needed to see them again.