The foreign feeling of the roots starts to fade as my body becomes numb. I see nothing, I hear nothing, I feel nothing. There's only darkness and silence.
As I wait until the Bed of Communion finishes connecting to me, the boredom makes me fall asleep, and I start to dream.
--
I see the Source of Life, the power Creation refined and infused in us. It's so pure and perfect that it attracts all sorts of living beings, almost fully covering the endless Source from my view.
Out of all the interesting and diverse beings drawing upon the Source, a simple vine spreading out catches my attention.
I follow it as it grows and grows further from away, bravely exploring the unknown all by itself, then it's stopped by a flower that takes roots around it and chokes it out.
The flower blooms, its beautiful and textured petals rearranging itself repeatedly like a kinetic sculpture, then it spreads its pollen around, creating more of its kind and filling the air with its fragrant perfume.
A short, flat, and fluffy animal appears and starts eating the flowers. Its small mouth nibbles on the flowers with blinding speed, quickly eating each flower through hundreds of little bites.
It suddenly squeaks and scampers away, but a Gatun pounces on it and kills it with one strike, then it runs off with its prey before other predators appear.
The Gatun runs and runs, its long and powerful limbs tirelessly swinging back and forth. It braves new lands by itself for it must, or else it'll become the food of something bigger than it.
Its muscles grow weary and weak, its fur loses its sheen and grays, its eyes start failing it and it misses its prey. Its body slowly starts to fail from old age, then it meets a predator stronger than it.
The two fight fiercely for every fight is one for their lives, and the old Gatun manages to scare the other predator away but becomes mortally wounded as a result.
After siring many children, eating countless prey, surviving in every foreign environment, the proud beast breathes for the last time and dies under just another common tree.
Its body rots and nature reclaims its flesh as it's eaten by bugs, then plants start to grow on its remains.
A vine takes birth from inside its bones, then bravely spreads out and away from its source towards the unknown. The cycle is starting over again, and again, and again, becoming faster each time.
From the plants, to animals, to the bugs, to the plants again. Their cycle becomes so fast that they all appear at the same time. The vine is eaten by the fluffy animal while it's bitten by the Gatun, whose lower body rotting, being eaten by bugs, and vines grow again from its bones.
The cycle of survival is neverending. They're always eating one another, spreading further from the Source of All Life, but in the end, they're all still connected to it.
--
I suddenly wake up as the numbing from the anesthesia reduces, allowing me to feel my body again. I've been connected directly to a live Eia, and we share our senses with each other.
I can see through its "eyes," but I see nothing right now, and the Eia would also be able to see through mine if I wasn't in complete darkness. But the purpose of this training is for me to take over the Eia, not for us to learn how to coexist.
Trying to move my body is useless, so I focus on my [Weaverism]. The roots of the Eia are in my body, inside my veins, drinking my blood, and I need to reclaim my control over my own vital fluid.
I gather some of my mana and send out a pulse, then I watch for reverberations outside of my body. My blood reacts to my mana, and it briefly returns to my control.
I send more and more mana out, and my connection with my blood grows.
This is mine. This belongs to me.
I grit my teeth and grunt in effort as I force my blood to move, and I feel the whole Eia plant twitch.
Good. It seems everything is under my control.
Plants don't have muscles to move individual parts of their body, but they can still move nonetheless through a connection, a shared "will" that allows them to make basic actions in perfect sync with each other, and I must copy that.
The hundreds of little roots that hold my blood are all parallel to each other, separated. I can see them as if they were threads of a loom, just ready to be weaved. They can't physically touch each other, but I can connect them all with my Life.
Almaria's teachings come back into my mind to help me focus.
Our bodies are our physical forms, able to act upon the world. Our spirits are our "diagrams," the patterns from which our bodies are created. Our Threads are our future, for the Overseer has already seen it all, but our will interferes with their omniscience. Our Source of Life is what powers us all and give us intelligence; different from mana, it's nearly endless but extremely limited in comparison. Our Life is our will quantified, it's a sub-process in raw form, and it's what gives us the impetus to move, consume, and expand.
Our Life is our will quantified, it's a sub-process in raw form, and it's what gives us the impetus to move, consume, and expand.
I repeat the last part in my mind many times as I gradually loosen my focus, entering a trance as I start to tap into my Source.
I can't sharpen my will to an edge like I'd do to create a sub-process, I need to keep it "loose" and "vague." I know what I want, but I can't control how things go, so I have to let it all take its own course.
I'm not the Eia, and it's not a part of me. We're neither a humanoid, nor Eia, we're a new, unique being.
I infuse my mana with my will and pulse it again.
My own Thread unravels and becomes many small strands that start to weave with each other, creating a "sheet" of myself. I'm not just one, singular being, but a fabric composed of many smaller parts of me, and I wrap myself around the Eia.
I see with the Eia's "eyes" strands of Life birthing from the strands of blood, and connecting them all to each other, weaving a cloth that allows me to truly fuse with the plant.
Once the weaving is done, I start to adapt to my new, extended body, becoming very comfortable in it, so much that I start to become sleepy. Just standing immobile all day while my roots absorb nutrients in a warm and hospitable small room just feels so good.
I tug at the weave and jolt awake. I have something to do, so I can't get comfortable yet.
I observe all of my weave and find the one spot that leads somewhere out of my control. It's a thin, single strand that connects me to the Life out there. It's not physical, so trying to pass through without breaking is almost impossible. Almost.
I groan, and my whole weave hums in resonance.
I hate this test.
I push my weave to one side then the other repeatedly, thinning it out at the middle. Once I feel like it's thin enough, I pull it forward, towards the small, single strand.
It's a slow process, but little by little, I take control of the strand. I can't take over it forcefully because my will is too strong, and it'll easily break if I try to, so I can only do it through this indirect way.
As the hours pass, my weave weakens along with my mana and mental will. Feeling like I'm about to fail, I become desperate and try to forcefully get through the last stretch, but the strand breaks, and I feel a sting as some of my Life is wasted away.
Godsdamnit!
Through the Eia's eyes, I see a new Source of Life appearing, and I have a good feeling that it's Almaria.
The person gets close to me and cuts one of the roots connecting me to the Eia, giving me another sting, so I start to return to my body. I undo the weave and return my Life to me, then I burst the blood at specific spots, cutting the roots connecting me to the plant.
Once all of the connections are severed, I release the blood from my hold, and the anesthetic from the Eia's roots starts to wear off, allowing me to move my muscles again.
After a few minutes, I open my eyes and see a faint light illuminating Almaria's fair face.
"Are you doing fine, Yulania?" She asks, her thin eyebrows wrinkled in worry.
"Yes…" I weakly mutter as the anesthetic is still acting upon me.
"Good…" She mutter and smiles, then she frowns a bit disappointingly. "Well, not so good since you failed the test, but you were doing good… until you weren't and failed, but it was mostly good."
I chuckle weakly, then she leans over me and starts helping remove all the roots still inside my veins. It stings a bit, but Almaria activates the [Regeneration] on the Bed of Communion, and all the pain goes away.
"I hate the single strand test…" I mumble and pout.
"Didn't you progress further this time? You'll get through it one day," Almaria tries to console me.
I sit up and start stretching. "It's just so boring…!"
She smiles kindly, and her small circular glasses gleam as they reflect her [Spirit Light]. "Yes, it is, but it teaches you a very useful skill. You need to learn how to be delicate if you want to learn how to be efficient. Brute-forcing everything will make your magic plateau easily, and you can't forever remain a mediocre mage."
I sigh and start putting on my thin clothes again as I grumble, "I know, I know. I'm the Chosen Descendant, so I can't go through any shortcut."
She pats my head and smiles. "Exactly, but if you want to rant, remember this again once you're done."
"Alright…"
--
I put on my "hanging dousnadeia" and stand up. The hanging pieces of cloth cover most of my skin, but Mom has been talking about removing most of them to allow others to see my body. My breasts have been growing, so I can actually show some cleavage now.
I'm old enough to get past the Sin, so they've also talked about finding a fiancee for me. They say that Bastico already lost his virginity, but I don't really find any of the servants attractive enough to do the same.
As I become able to focus on my skills again, I sense two little peepers nearby. "Tutu, tata! I told you to stop peeping!" I yell angrily, and the two little ones scamper away. "Hmph!"
I'll twist their ears when I catch them.
Almaria smiles wryly and helps me up, then I slowly walk out of the room, my body still a bit weak and uneasy. I want to ask the healers to cast [Purify Body] on me, but Elder Mom will definitely pull on my ear if I waste their mana on that, so I harden my guts and endure it.
We cross an [Eternal Gate] taking us out of the underground and back inside the castle.
I feel a weight off my shoulders as we're now back in the open and tall halls. How the dwarves live in their entire lives underground is a mystery to me.
We go back into the main hall and take another Gate to the greenhouse. At least I have an excuse for this time if Elder Mom complains about the overuse of the Gates.
I sit down on one of the comfortable chairs and sigh, then massage my muscles, and the last remains of the Communion fade away.
The greenhouse is a nice place to relax after such a tiring test. My eyes aren't sensitive anymore, so the vibrant and beautiful plants aren't a bother to look at. Their fragrant smell is actually calming as they were chosen specifically because they aid in concentration. [Nature Magic] and [Weaverism] are both magic schools that require a lot of calmness to chant or manipulate their spells.
Almaria sits down on the other chair beside mine and pulls a vine towards her through [Weaverism]. "Let's practice your control again. We'll do fractals for this morning," she beckons to the vine, and I take control of it.
"A hard one right away?" I question with a frown.
"A Chosen Descendant shouldn't skimp on their training," she sagely lectures and readjusts her glasses on her small face.
I grit my teeth and roll my eyes internally, then I start growing the vines along the large table before us in fractal patterns.
Almaria leans back on her chair and pulls out a book to read. On the cover, I see a circular drawing of plants, animals, and bugs all eating each other in an endless cycle. I guess my dream wasn't as mysterious as I thought it was…
--
I get up and stretch then yawn as I'm finally allowed to rest. I look up and see the sun up high. It's barely midday and I'm already tired.
The sun warms the plants almost directly through the transparent glass, but at least we have a small tent to protect us from the God of the Sun.
After warming my skin, I sit down at the table and gaze upon my piece of art. I used a four-armed spiral as a basis for the fractal, and for the divisions, I went for two large ones, each surrounded by three smaller ones made of three mini-spirals. I've tilted every spiral and division, then connected them all in a spiral. After filling up the gaps with warped spirals, I colored it all with a rainbow gradient.
Nothing truly special, but beautiful nonetheless.
I hear footsteps and turn around, then I see Elder Mom coming towards us. Her face looks stern and stiff as always, as if her expression was sculpted from stone.
She stops before Almaria and stares at her. Anyone lesser would be sweating cold at the intensity of her eyes.
"How was it?" Mom asks, her tone betraying nothing of her emotions.
Almaria sends me a kind glance, but she can't lie before Mom. "She almost got through, but she failed in the end," she confesses.
Mom turns to me and says nothing. I know she's disappointed, but she never shows it, at least.
She lands her hand on my head and wordlessly pats me, then I snort and close my eyes.
"Come for lunch, then you'll continue your training for the rest of the day," she delivers the sneak attack upon my heart.
Godsdamnit! Have some mercy!
--
We enter the dining hall, the back wall is completely opened, exposing us to the blue sky and allowing the blazing sun to hit the white floor, reflecting so much light that it illuminates the entire hall.
I take off my shoes to enjoy the gentle grass, then I spot the little peeping goblins and narrow my eyes at them. I know they fear my glare, and they immediately wince when they notice me.
I grin evilly at them and start the verbal lashing, "Well, well, well. If it isn't the little Goblin Stalkers. Your plan didn't work so well when we were fated to meet so soon, isn't that right?"
Dad stops drinking his alcohol and slowly turns his eyes to them.
"Peeping again?" Elder Mom's icy cold tone makes them shiver.
"Caught in the act," I smugly respond, and she mirrors my eyes, doubling the intensity of our severe glare.
"If they're doing it for fun, then there's no harm in that," Younger Mom kindly defends them with a smile.
"Yes, there isn't, except for the great rudeness of the act," Elder Mom responds without taking her eyes off the twins.
"I'd prefer not to risk it. I don't want that sort of relationship for her," Dad states, and I feel a bit awkward.
I'm not a pedophile…
Elder Mom will see that the twins get their punishment, so I soften my glare and sit down at the table, then I serve myself some sweet cider, which I mix with a lot of juice to make it milder. If the other nobles could see me they'd laugh, but nobody knows what you're drinking if you don't show when it's being mixed.
I start serving myself and get a bit more meat in hope of building some muscle. My sword lessons are getting a bit tough, and I need more "Strength" to make being a hybrid practical.
I don't really want to be just a mage, that'd limit the type of partners only to other mages or hybrids. I… kind of like tall, muscular people, and mages seem to rarely be like that.
Since I'm a woman, it's better to keep my harem small unless I add more women to it, but I'm not sure how advantageous that'd be, so I don't have room to add too many members to my harem, which means I have to be picky about who I choose. I want a small and cute person, and a tall and muscular one. I also want one to be cute and meek while the other is bold and domineering.
Dad's gentle voice brings me out of my musings, "Yulania, I'd like to take you to an Eia farm."
"She'll be busy today," Elder Mom casually responds and sends me a glance.
I smile wryly and nod.
"Tomorrow, then…" Dad relents without trying.
Noooo~…
--
I spend a long, boring day practicing [Weaverism], then I'm allowed to rest on the next one, but Dad takes me for a tour through an Eia farm. I've seen the Eia plant, but not a farm of it, so I'm a bit curious about it. The whole [Weaverism] magic school is based on this plant, so it doesn't hurt to learn more about it.
We go out of town and take a wide hanging road towards one of the disk farms. Below us is the beautiful and huge lake that provides for Escanso, and I never tire of looking at it's dark and deep waters
We could ride Gatuns or have a carriage take us, but Lords are supposed to be physically fit, so being seen taking walks occasionally is the minimum expected for us. Even if the Lord's a mage, being fat and seen as lazy is terrible for their image.
The fully armored knights flank us and make way, keeping anyone suspicious away from us. I must admit that it feels good to have them protect us this way, though Dad will surely chastise me if I tell him that. We aren't supposed to revel in our privilege of Lordship or even inconvenience the common folk with it, or else both the temple and the Tribunal will make a stink.
Our feet hit the wet and mossy road, and I see some of it sticking to my boots. Younger Mom says that a good boot is the one that looks good while dirty and also survives the cleaning after. I think she's only created this saying because she gets her clothes dirty from working in her private garden all the time. I mean, it's true, but the part about "looking good while dirty" is a bit oddly specific.
The Eia fog starts to clear up, allowing us to see the farm properly. At this distance, it's just like a normal farm, except the crops move as if there's a storm ravaging them, but there's barely a breeze.
"They're doing morning exercises," Dad comments, and I nod along. A healthy Eia plant should be as quick as a spear thrust and as nimble as a Gatun.
We start hearing the slow and melodic song the farmers play to get the Eias to move. It's slightly hypnotic and so well-played that it makes me think these farmers are better than the bards that wander the town.
We eventually get close enough that we can take a closer look at the Eia plants, and their beauty awes me. These aren't like the small, cute, and very dumb Eia plants that we use for training, these are fully-fledged predators.
Their long and bulbous green "head" almost looks humanoid; dark, creepy-looking slits indicate where their Life-sensitive "eyes" are; a nearly invisible horizontal slit over their entire face hides the very long "mouth" that can snap at their prey from meters away; leaves cover their whole body in the vague shape of a person like a Cublend; two-meters long bark arms hide inside their bodies that they use for protection; and their roots wave about like "feelers," trying to sense any sort of mana.
Though they can walk, none ever tries to do so because they'd lose their favorite meal: warm blood. They're free to leave, but they've all been tamed and become loyal like a weredog. Eia farms don't need guards to protect them against neither humanoids nor monsters for the Eia plants can protect their home themselves.
We stop before the line of plants, and their eerily humanoid heads all slowly turn to observe us. They shake their bodies and arms along with the music of the farmers, but their curiosity keeps their "eyes" locked on us.
While I gawk at the beautiful colors of their leaves, Dad starts explaining, "I'd like to bring you here when one of the guardian dryads come visit, but they only do it every few years, so we'll come again next year for you to meet one."
"No, this is fine," I absentmindedly respond.
The song ends and the plants stop moving, then Dad pushes me through a narrow path, and I shiver as the Eias all purposely brush their leaves against us to "taste us."
My Life-senses even start to get stimulated as I feel the web all around us. Every Eia is so deeply connected to one another they're almost a single entity, but they're all still independent from one another.
"This is our gold, Yunia. This is why Escanso was built here, because nowhere else can we get Eia with such a high-quality," Dad proudly comments as we walk.
"What's so special about this place?" I question curiously. I've always wondered why our Eia is so good.
"I'd say that half of it is our water. The fish under our lake are very vicious, flooding the waters with nutrients and the right flavor of mana for the Eia. The other half is in the people…"
The song stops and I see a farmer cut his wrists with a dagger, then he starts to walk along the rows of plants while letting his blood drip on the dirt. The Eia all stop moving and start shaking faintly, filling the air with a faint buzzing all around us.
The farmer smiles brightly as he runs his hand over the "heads" of the Eias, then The plants crowd around him and even lower themselves so he can more easily reach them.
My Life-sense starts tingling again, and I notice how the farmer's Life is so connected to the Eia that I'm not sure if he's part of the plants, or the plants are part of him.
Dad follows my gaze and nods in satisfaction. "The people here have such a strong connection to Life that we weren't that surprised about your affinity to it," he continues, then his tone becomes a bit somber. "The Eia we produce is so important to the High Forest that the moment we stop selling it, we'd all be executed by the Elder Council and replaced."
This is a bit chilling. For as much as the Eia trade is our pride, it's also a chain on our necks.
--
--
Hall of Fame of Patrons
The patrons who support Rupegia shall have their names sung by the bards for they deserve the glory and honor. Their names are:
Prince PreownedFIN.
Prince Creamy Spinach.
Lord Andrew Meyers.
Lord Samuel Lim.
Lord Bill.
Lord Novgarod.
Lord Ashadun.
Lord Michale Erwin.
Lord Bakerdea.
Lord Nathan Vanbrunt.
Lord Maurice.
Lord Empyrean.
Lord Mattirro Draca.
Lord Joshua Tal.
Lord Colorblind.
Lord RottenTangerine.
Lord Fullmoon.
Lord Joxsan Herrera.
Lord Sean Drake.
Lord EESDESESESRDT.
Lord Brody Haugan.
Lord FrostyCube.
Lord Mike Bartter.
Lord Cardinal Steiner.
Lord Krawn.
Lord Warwulfv.
Lord Cidant.
Lord Jorge Franco.
Lord Bradly.
Lord Freddie.
Lord Khristopher Welsh.
Lord DJ.
Lord Philip.
Lord Tenebris Lupus.
Lord ImportantNPC.
Noble Salty Panda.
Noble Mild Fracas.
Noble Aclys.
Noble Shawn Plumley.
Noble CarlBaxter.
Noble WeirdWhirl.
Noble War God.
Noble Yeuromain.
Noble Jorge Franco.
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