Page 39 of Whisper Woods

And photographs! Lots of photographs.

Don’t forget my magazines. And books. Pick me up something nice.

I’m getting worried, old man. Send me an update. Let me know you are alive at least.

I visited Estella. The pups are well. She tried to stab me through the heart for getting too close. She’s such a good girl.

Okay, if you do not send through a message soon I am going to have to cross the portals myself.

Actually, that doesn’t sound terrible.

Vylushkiva, Rafe, answer me already. Things are bad here. We need your information. If you don’t reply by noon, the High Eminence and the Council have granted leave for me to come and find you. As exciting as that is, this is not the time.

The sacred flame is almost extinguished.

A harsh breath shudders out of me. The sacred flame, maintained by the Orun, embodies the magic of Tathys. Though to be completely honesteverythingin our city embodies the magic of Tathys, and in many ways, it has lost its mystique.

But this? This is serious.I read through the messages, guilt gnawing at my guts as I do. Falyuk. This is not good. I shuffle through the notes again, reading them over one more time and then stacking them safely to one side.

Helpfully, Brydon has packed me my own notepads so I don’t have to tear at my Tavisher’s journal. Unhelpfully, it is one that I had picked up for him to trade with the children in the town, pale pink and covered with adorable cartoon rabbits. It’s even perfumed with a disgusting fake cherry scent.

Grimacing, I withdraw my pen and write.

Brydon, My sincerest apologies for making you wait. Things developed quickly, and I did not have the opportunity to receive your messages.

Also, I failed to get you photographs inside the nightclub.

While I wait for his reply, I inspect Tarook’s gift. At first perusal it appears to be a mage’s journal. An old one at that. I wish I had my tools here with me; I loathe having to handle such a delicate item with my bare hands like this. Not to mention the added danger of accidentally triggering something catastrophic by reading the wrong incantation. A genuine risk without the protections we have at home, and Brydon’s knowledge of these long dead languages.

Tarook said this was recovered from the site of Theo’s kidnapping. So what does that mean about the being who kidnapped him? Were they aware of the magnitude of the power they wielded with this book? Or were they blessedly ignorant of the fact they held the key to magic long lost to the Mundane?

A spark in the vessel pulls me from the outline of a ritual for dream walking. Placing the journal to the side, I retrieve Brydon’s message, ignoring the residual heat on the paper.

Well, I WAS glad you’re alive. But now you can rot in the ether.

Are you well? What has happened?

It’s a surprisingly difficult question to answer because the answer is both, a lot, and nothing at all. But, nonetheless, I recount the details. From the ailing energy of the Whisper Woods, to the wreckage I found on the pulse point. When it comes to sharing the details of my running into Seff at Slash, I find that wretched lump forming in my throat once again. Unable, and unwilling to recount the extent of mine and Seff’s relationship, I find myself minimising us down to something like acquaintances, and it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

I tell him of returning to the Black Stump and the kidnapping and the whispers of fae losing magic only for it to return mysteriously again, confirmed by the conversations I overheard this morning.

The ruptured pulse point and the ishke’s energy is certainly concerning. But I don’t understand how the rest of this is all connected?

Neither do I. But I’m going to find out. Have the others found anything?

I have no doubt you will, Rafe. There has been nothing of importance from the others. Those close to home have reported some shifts in the energy, but those further afield are unaffected. But for how long? The ishke are all connected… If the Whisper Woods falls, could the other sources of power fall too?

There are several sources of power spread throughout the globe—concentrated embodiments of magic. From these sources the magic runs through the ishke, connecting all beings, the elements, and magic. The Orun teach us that these places are actually where the Gods reside. That, in the time before time itself, the Gods laid down and became one with the earth, relieving themselves of their physical constraints and unleashing their magic into the world. It is whythe first tenet of the Orun is to always honour the Gods for their sacrifice.

I do not know. Tathys is our main concern right now. I will be in contact when I have more information.

As the message turns to ash, I watch the last of the flames flicker. My stomach growls, loud in the silence of the room. Glancing at the small clock on the mantelpiece, I’m rather shocked to see how late it is. The awareness brings my hunger into sharper focus, reminding me that I’ve missed breakfast and lunch. Which means it’s definitely past time to head down to the tavern in search of some food. And information.

***

The Black Stump Tavern is busy. This isn’t surprising with yesterday’s dramatic events. I have absolutely no doubt that beings have come from all over the Woods to find out what has happened. Which is extremely convenient for me.

Keeping up a casual pretence, I wander through the tavern, listening in where I can, watching for every minor detail. Clusters of beings are scattered throughout the premises. Making my way out to the patio, I spot several mages doing last-minute trades with a centaur and orc. Their camp on the lawns is organised chaos while Tarook directs its disassembly.

---