The Children of Fire
(Before Master Yorri wandered off to bully Firmir)
Menlinwen,
Do not under any circumstances allow further Dawi exploration of the nest which you have mentioned, not without at least ten more Aesavalu. Your suspicions were correct, that was an unfertilized egg of the Aesvarinor. You are lucky, all of you, to still be alive. I shudder to imagine what the thing's parents might have done if it were not unfertilized, if you had taken one of the thing's eggs when it could have been an actual child. I'll not begrudge the Dwarfs, not when the Geomancers keep being Geomancers, but they need to know what they're actually dealing with.
-Steedkin Ylric Volthan
Menlinwen of House Ebonsea of the Kingdom of Cothique draws in a particularly sharp breath in the silence of her own inner sanctum, her eyes widening as she examines the slightly translucent "gem", a smooth oval the shade of magma, glimmering and catching in the mystical light. It reflects the texts and tomes and scrolls that line the walls, along with the lyres, lutes, flutes and other instruments she plays to relax and to help her think when trying to study magic.
As well as the considerably lighter bottle of particularly strong brandy from home, which she had planned to save for a special occasion.
Then she had realized exactly what the orange stones being peddled in the streets of Kraka Drak were, had bought two for what was simultaneously an exorbitant price and an absolute steal, and then sent one off to one of the Steedkin of Ellyrion, while she studied the other herself.
And that letter had confirmed it.
They were unfertilized Aesvarinor eggs.
That unfertilized was very important, but she still felt cold dread as she imagined what could happen if some innocent, ignorant dwarf, not quite realizing what they had touched, ended up angering one of the beasts.
"Aesvarinor, here?" She laughed, mirthless, mad. "You are an ironic thing, aren't you?"
"Hm. Sounds serious lass."
Menlinwen did not jump. She did not start. She did not meep.
She was too inebriated for it.
Yorri, the Dwarf even more ancient than Snorri, seemed to appear from nowhere.
"We did have a lesson today, didn't we? My apologies master Dwarf, I realized we were in a truly precarious situation, one that could have effects on both Tor Vernath and on Kraka Drak. Aesvarinor, within prowling distance." There was a slight spark of guilt, in spite of everything: it was one thing for the client not to take the lessons, it was quite another for a client not to receive lessons because she was too busy...overreacting.
"Children of Fire?" Yorri cocks his head curiously, then grabs a chair, lifting it and planting it across from the mage with a soft thump. "I'm going to guess by the fact that you said Varinor and Avalu that that's not a good thing?" Inwardly, she was pleased that, for all it was a subtle thing, her student had grasped the connotations diverging within Varinor and Avalu.
"No. Tell me, has Snorri told you anything about the Winds, about Aqshy?"
"Just this once, you can treat me like a beardling and really lecture me about it."
"Alright, alright, very well. The Winds of Magic split apart from the mortal mind in three cardinal directions. Cardinal, the Wind as itself. Nurturing Ghyran. Bestial Ghur. In spell work, the kind of thing that lends itself light and energy and effect." She looks the old dwarf in the eye. "Are you following?"
"Well enough. Please continue." The Dwarf shuffled in his seat and began to eat some jerky, though his eyes were well focused on her.
"Then there is Mystic, the metaphors and similes and analogies that the mind attaches to these concepts. The hourglass of Shyish. The music of Hysh. The Pestle of Chamon."
"Fascinating. But then, wouldn't everything end up weighed down with every Wind?"
"Not every analogy holds equal weight because not every analogy is held by every culture, but you're not wrong, a culture holding a sufficiently distinct analogy within itself about a matter can change the expression of a Wind, and the more people hold to the analogy the more deeply it's woven into a Wind. The Ram, for instance, would likely be a symbol of Ghyran to your people as a source of life, of meat and wool and mile, while for my people it is tinged with Shyish...touched by association with Morai Heg."
"Indeed."
"But, to return to the main point. Finally there is the Elemental, the physical manifestation of the Wind. The mist of Ulgu. The lightning of Azyr." She exhaled. "The fire of Aqshy. The Aesvarinor are essentially a physical manifestation of Elemental Aqshy. Of fire." She sits down, palming her head. "More particularly, of Magma. They have an instinctual grasp of the Elemental spells of Aqshy, of the very hot fire of the earth, and a temperament to match. The earth breaks, the ground quakes, great spouts of lava and fire." She looks to the floor, her head shaking. "We've got them in Saphery. We thought, the rest of us at least, that it was something the Geomancers created to help fight off Chaos. More fool us, I suppose."
"...That honestly mostly sounds like a dragon lass." Yorri pours himself some of the brandy as well, and puts it to his lips.
"And wouldn't it be a problem if somebody stole dragon eggs and brought them here?"
Yorri pauses, considers. The throws the brandy back in a single gulp. It's hard enough, considering the elves claim to drink "for flavor", but even so it pales in comparison to some of the brews he's had. "Aye. I suppose it would."
"Then you see the problem. Somebody has found a nest of their eggs, been harvesting them, and selling them in Kraka Drak. Fortunately so far, the only ones I've found have all been unfertilized. So far."
"And if they weren't?"
"Then a six-and-a-half foot behemoth of stone and fire that bleeds lava and shatters the ground would have attacked you, accompanied by its mate and any mature children that had also reached full maturity." Her voice is matter of fact. "They may not be quite as physically dangerous as Magma Worms, I'll acknowledge that, but they're a damn sight more sociable and full of magic. Damn near impossible to kill too. Most of its body is covered in granite hard rocks, shaped like a damn harness of plate, and the weakspots, the underbelly and the joints, they bleed lava when the thing is full grown." She pulls out a journal and tosses it to him. "Here, look."
And Yorri does.
He sees the thing as a juvenile. Two feet tall, but heavy and dense. A tri-segmented body in a roughly bidepdal plan. The upper segment consists of the head, with one, blunt spike, eyes with sclera the shade of white flame and pupils a vivid, fiery red, though the notes say it can be the same color as natural fire, framed by flashes of orange flesh when viewed from the right angle. It is covered by hard rock, in shades of an earthier, stony red, blue, yellow or orange. The second segment at the belly is a fleshy portion, allowing the thing to bend and move in spite of being covered in rock and it is a magma orange, revealing the beast's true nature: A beast of Elemental Aqshy, channeling the shear heat and power buried under the earth. There are seams of this orange flesh at each joint, but they are a trap of sorts, for piercing them only spews hot blood. At best uncomfortable, at worst boiling. At the bottom, the third segment consists of stumpy, smooth legs with merest beginnings of claws at the feet. Its control over magic is ecclectic.
The second stage of the lifecycle is next. The lower body is covered in a layer of rock and metal from the material consumed in the juvenile stage, even as it grows to a solid four feet tall. The head continues to poke out but itself morphs, the one spike splitting into two , somewhat sharper spikes. Crystalline nubs poke out from the back along the spine, physical embodiment of Aqshy, "somewhat like Power Stones (what?)" according to the notes, "though far less refined", ending in what will become the tail. They do, however, let it cast the Elemental Spells of Aqshy by instinct. Its blood its similar to hot magma at this stage. Though the least physically adapt in this stage, they have become potent enough spellcasters to survive any merely mundane predator, if far from real wizard
A third (Confirmed???) stage. The full grown, mature exemplar of the species. Standing roughly six-and-a-half feet tall, its jaws have developed into a powerful beak capable of biting through near anything especially after weakened with the heat of its internal fire. Its limbs broad and powerful enough to slice through ithilmar in a single blow. The twin spikes of the chrysalis stage develop into three, viciously sharp spikes. Magically, it has become capable of shifting rock and stone and flames alike, channeling the molten heat and power contained within the earth to unleash fissures of magma, or simple waves of fire. The crystalline spines along its back, still following the curve of its spine, go down all along the tail. Its blood is magma at this point, making killing it even more difficult, in spite of the obvious weakpoints along its belly and joints.
Behaviorally, it is as hot-blooded, wrathful, and furious as a creature of Aqshy should be expected, though whether from a higher intelligence than expected or diverging territory it generally avoids people. It is generally recommended to flee--elf, and roughly elf-shaped creatures, do not provide enough energy to be worth hunting, but it does not like competitors in its territory.
"I notice this says confirmed," is the first thing Yorri says. "Does that mean--"
"There are rumors. Legends of what happens if the thing consumes enough, pure, Aqshy. If some damned fool gave it a large enough Power Stone. You know how these things always go."
He considers for a moment. "I admit, I wouldn't want to run into one unarmed, but don't you suppose you may be overreacting? Can it really be worse than a Wyrm?"
Menlinwen draws back, in a way he is mildly familiar with; intellectually she is acknowledging the truth of what he said, even as her pride is annoyed by it. "I suppose so. But these things have travelled to Cothique; more than once, we have stumbled onto their lairs." She shakes her head in remembrance. "They're no beast of Chaos, hungry, thirsty for blood and suffering; but they are rage, and passion, and wrath itself, incarnate in lava and fire and stone, and they do not take well to being surprised." She pauses, to let the point sink in lest he try something foolish. "Or especially to having their spawning places assailed. There are stories of them wiping out entire Bray Herds, the Shaman, and the giant they'd enslaved, just to take back an egg one of the abominations had stolen to try and power some vile ritual."
"The eggs are magic too, then?" He starts stroking his beard and Menlinwen feels her hands clenching.
"Oh yes, every part of them. But killing them is a nightmare at the best of times, and trying to peacefully harvest anything from them like the phoenixes or the giant eagles has proven too difficult by and large. The Priests of Adiadoth revere them as expressions of sacred fire, and a slight handful have even managed to keep the things as familiars, while the Priests of Lileath have learned to communicate with them, secrets of Ghur and Aqshy alike allowing them to modify their spells. So far the best anyone has managed in a broader scale is a trickle of unfertilized eggs as reagents for Aqshy. The Blackfangs like to say they're always only a hundred years from figuring it out themselves, but then they've been saying that since the Catastrophe."
--
Asur Culture Corner:
Learn Eltharin-
Aesvarinor: Children of Fire. In particular, the rune Varinor is a rune more associated with the physical connotations of fire, in comparison to the higher aspirations associated with Avalu. That is not to say Varinor only has negative connotations, but if one desired to describe a fire that burned down a town, Varinor would be the word to go with.
Aesvalu: Sons of Holy Fire, Priests of Lileath. Known also as Steedkin, they spiritually connect with her great mustang, Cindermane, hence their title, regarding the creature as a fellow servant. They tend to make use of every Wind of Magic, and are headquartered in Ellyrion.
