The Etra Anthology

130th of Gnielm, 336 EA

Citadel of the Athalial League, Athal

Mepka had helped Svaljna up the ladder and into the safety of the dormitory, miles away from the aether and all it’s many dangers. Her living quarters were not lavish by any means, but they had an intentionality to them that made the place feel lived in. Two of the three globules of arcane light lit on their entrance, the third sputtering like a low candle. The desk seemed to see more use than the small kitchen table, mugs all stacked up one into the other into the other. Artistic etchings of plants, long and tall fronds, lined the sides of the diffused window. 

She had poured both of them a drink, something small and sweet like the mead Svaljna always opted for back home. It was a welcome gesture, steadying.

“So. You’re here.” Mepka started, propping herself on the floor next to the closed door to her bedroom.

“Aye. You lead me here.” Svaljna spoke carefully, “I will not stay if you don’t wish it.”

“No, no, not here here.” Mepka corrected, waving her arms in the space. “You can stay for a while. Not forever, but a while. What I meant though, was Athal. You’re at the citadel. I’d like you to tell me what for.”

“I ask myself the same.” Svaljna took the question in stride, answering more confidently than she had before. “I came here to find myself anew, I suppose.”

“What does that mean?” Mepka sipped her drink, “Why would you want to be someone other than yourself?”

“It was easier.” Svaljna felt empty as she realized that was the truth. “My home was not good for me. It was not all of my own doing. There was pressure, to be a certain way, and I had not seen what another life could be like. Not until Athal came to the sands of my home plane. A traveling quest, they stayed with us for only a season. They were not liked. I did not want to be seen with them, so I would sneak to their campfires. I’d trade them stories, and shared secrets. The sort that I would have been called hrin for, if I had tried with the others in my clan. In turn, they told me about the citadel. That there was a life here for people like me. By the time they left on their quest, I’d already resolved to come after them. When the time was right.”

“I’ve been through something really similar.” Mepka said, looking strangely very excited to be speaking. “I didn’t like where I was at, either. I was trapped, in more ways than one. We didn’t know that there was anything outside of our little demiplane, anything beyond the aether. We thought that the way of the world was all there was, shitty as it was. I didn’t change myself, though. That was the problem. I was myself no matter how much it hurt me.”

“Do you regret that?” Svaljna ran her hand across the soft pelt of the fur she wore.

Mepka thought on it a long moment. “When I was in it, I felt like I did. But if I had gone with the flow even a little bit, I wouldn’t have gotten out. I wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t be the person I am today. And I fucking like myself now, a lot. Certainly more than when I ran out into the aether that last time. I thought it was going to kill me then. I thought that I wanted it to. Thankfully, it’s a kinder void than that.”

“The aether is not kind.” Svaljna said with a sureness.

“It was to me.” Mepka said, “It gave me power, and I used that power to push back against the wrong that was being done to me.”

“It ruined my life.” Svaljna’s voice turned towards a bitterness.

“It sounds like people ruined your life.” Mepka bit back.

That was a thought that stumbled Svaljna, and Mepka used that void to fill. “I like you, Svaljna. I think we’re alike, and that’s rare. I haven’t found a lot of others who’ve gone through the sort of gnarls that we have. And sometimes that can feel lonely, but mostly it’s hopeful to me because it means that most of the rest of the world isn’t as fucked up as the places we come from. So, what I guess I’m trying to say is, you’ve gotta learn to like yourself. Your home was shit, but you’re not there anymore and there’s nothing that can be done that would force you to go back. Not if you don’t let it. And especially not if you have the aether on your side. What did you call it, sveida? If this sveida is a part of us, well then it’s gotta be at least a little bit good because we are good. And fuck anyone who says otherwise.”

Svaljna still didn’t speak, behind her eyes there was just a rolling of thoughts like clay into a ball. She was utterly without pretense, which was the first step, but she found that there was not much left to pick up once that was put away.

“Here,” Mepka reached out a hand, interlacing it with Svaljna’s. “Ahtr’ul”

The world fastened from one into another and back, a closed circuit of power. Aetheric fog danced across their arms, blurring them to be as one. Mepka’s spark of magic felt different from Svaljna’s. It was more sheer, less melodic. Like a single note played, against a symphony. Still, it was recognizably sveida, and in the absence of judgement it did feel good to let it flow. Svaljna was left unsure as to whether that gratification was coming from Mepka’s magic or from within herself, but it was undeniably present.

“Ahtr’ul {{WOPx3}}” Svaljna strung back, putting her own complex spin on the magic between them. The fog stopped it’s free movement then, crystalizing into detailed helixes and waves which orchestrated themselves into beautiful arrays.

“Woah!” Mepka broke the connection, a look of pure wonder lighting her face. “That was incredible! Why the hell would you hide that!”

Svaljna managed a smile herself, her first in a long while. “I don’t know.”

Mepka pushed herself to standing. “Well, I’d like to see more of it. And I bet a lot of other people would too. If you’d show it, sometime.”

“I will think on this.” Svaljna let herself be unsure.

“Sure.” Mepka looked around the room. “In the meantime, make yourself comfortable. I’m getting to bed, I think. We can talk about what comes next in the morning.”

Svaljna nodded quietly, gratefully.

“Mepka?” Svaljna called out as she settled herself onto a claw-footed sofa.

Mepka hung in the doorway, looking back over her shoulder curiously.

“Thank you,” Svaljna emitted, “thank you for tonight.”

“Of course.” Mepka said simply, closing the door to the bedroom.

Svaljna was left alone then. She parsed over the runic lights, and surrendered herself to the unquiet dark of her thoughts. She laid there for hours, pacing over all that had happened. All that would or could happen.

“Ahtr’ul.” She whispered to herself, drawing up aether fog to her fingertips for no other reason than the natural satisfaction that came over her to flex it.

The aether moved in strange ways, always, but at this call it pulled oddly off of her arm, up and away from her. She followed it’s line, reclined back as she was, to the window.

There, outlined by the arch of the full moon, she was met with a single, green-ringed eye and a feral snarl. The eye closed, leaving just the toothy maw, and Svaljna had just enough time to scream before it began to slam it’s head against the glass.