Where the Wild Things Are

[Sivan]

34th of Searing, Year 123 of Steel
Somewhere near Zaichaer

The aether tensed, then aligned. To an onlooker, though, it would seem as though reality tore and widened like a wound. Some other place was visible, and out from it lumbered a golden bear. When it looked back, the portal closed, and it looked hither and thither, snuffling at the air. Sivan the Artificer and Sivan the Alchemist had also become Sivan the Animist. Few were the creatures that fucked with a bear in the forest, and while his fur was unusual, it seemed a better shape for foreign territory than his own.

An invitation had been sent to him some time ago, but then there had been war. Urs had disappeared, and Zaichaer was a likely place for it. Aurin had brought him back from the brink of the cataclysm, and Aurin often returned, but Urs... Well, he had left and perhaps that was another reason why Sivan had finally come.

The portal had been helpful, and the portal would open up again once more at a designated time. So either the fabled Kindred of Zaichaer would see him or he would explore the far off forest until his means of returning returned.

The greater spirits hereabouts were quieter, more observant than he was used to. The lesser ones fluttered about with familiar enthusiasm. When he asked, they answered, and so eventually he was led to a circle of runestones. He snuffled the air once more, then shuffled into the circle, sitting in the center and waiting. He felt the aether moving through the stones. They would note his arrival, could scry him from afar, and decide whether or not to let him in.

Few had likely ever seen a bear meditate, and yet here it was happening. Wild spirits tended to be curious about those who traversed their ranges. Air and Water spirits traveled, Earth abided, and Fire did whatever was its wont. Wood spirits were often territorial, and Metal hardly minded what happened above.

SivanSivanSivan! they chanted in their language that was more concept than word. SunSunSun SwiftlyMoving! and BurningBird! and GoldenBear! They announced him in their own special way, though not all of them made sense to him, even as wise as he was to the nature of spirits.

[Rune]

The forest was at peace.

Sounja knelt in the moss off The Grove, arms raised, eyes closed, listening. The forest would tell them all that they needed to know, it always did. The birds sang and called, the sprites and sprites wove the music of their voices into the flow of the wind and the movement of the trees. The fungus sent messages over the networks over hundred of miles telling the larger plants where to find water or who needed nutrients sent to them until their soil rejuvenated from the recent destruction. The events that had upended the lives of every human within the territory claimed by Zaichaer were a year old now, but that was no time at all to the forest.

The mind of the one who knelt to commune stretched like their arms; opening up and reaching as far as it could just to feel the comfortable pull. In that stretch though, there was a new rhythm and several of the familiar voices of the forest had taken it up to sing its name.

SivanSivanSivan, they called. SunSunSun SwiftlyMoving, and GoldenBear, and dozens, hundreds of other things in description and greeting both. Sounja let the voices flow over them until they had an idea of what, of who, had entered the forest with intent, and what that intent might be.

It is late, but he answered the Coven's call Sounja's Aidolon, Dyfndr, rumbled from somewhere deep below where they knelt. Eyelids flickered open over horizontal pupils that adjusted slowly to the bright sun that shot through the little meditation clearing. The world outside might be trapped in a perpetual season of ice, but inside The Grove the seasons turned naturally and Searing was bursting in its pride.

"I will go." The words were spoken aloud, but they also echoed through the whole of The Grove. Not loud, more like a breeze moving from one side to the other so that all the inhabitants would know that Sounja was opening the way.

Standing, front legs first, and then back, they moved to the nearest doorway and spoke ancient words, evoking ancient pacts.

On the outside, perhaps twenty feet from where Sivan Sunrunner sat, rock pushed up through the ground, carved all over with symbols that looked only half finished or worn away until the branches, grasses and vines pushed down from above or up from below to cover the stone, filling in the gaps to form ancient Scrivened symbols of power. When they were complete the stone glowed faintly and from it Sounja stepped.

They were like no natural creature, and yet, like many. Brown fur covered the majority of their body, but their arms and hands were feathered and taloned. Their back half was that of a deer or a horse, two sets of hoofed feet supporting a torso that could have been that of a human male except for the lighter fur covering even their face. The face was mostly human too, except that the pupils were rectangles. Antlers sprouted from their head, currently branching out in growth but still the softer, rounded bone of the warmest season. In Ash they would harden and sharpen, but for now, the bone growth was still covered in a light fuzzy down.

Stepping out from The Grove into the wider forest almost daintily, Sounja waited, politely for the elf to come out of his meditative state so he might be greeted.

[Sivan]

Sivan felt things start to shift. While he wasn't local here, his spirits were regaling the locals with his praises, and since he had been invited, he didn't react with fear or distrust. Instead, he slowly shook off his trance, then slowly shifted from bear toward elf; he didn't return entirely to his elven form. An eye keen to nature might notice that he was also shifting toward wolf, and dragonfly wings sprouted from his shaggy back. In the end, he was a similar sort of creature. His face was closer to his true form, the better to speak, though his nose was more ursine or lupine, the top of his lip split. His eyes were the ice blue of a wolf, his shoulders broad as any bear's. He had opposable thumbs, but his fingers bore talons. He stood upright, but his knees were bent the wrong way. Golden fur covered parts of him, and golden irridescent wings vibrated in the air behind him. The elf was a hodgepodge of his three Spirits.

He bowed as his friends manifested. Geb looked like a little gnome made out of stone and earth. Khal was a red-skinned salamander. Zin took the form of a watery mercreature. Nut looked like a small elf, made of air, dust, and leaves. They all managed their own shows of respect. Exael manifested too, a bit farther off, tall and statuesque. It nodded.

"Hail, Kindred," he called. "A Railrunner made a path for me to answer your invitation. I am Sivan Sunrunner Len'Myren."

Sivan hadn't brought any of Torin's trinkets. The path had been laid for him and he was under the impression that he would be safe in their hospitality. He hoped his current form wouldn't be an insult, but rather a bridge of communication without words, with the language of a shared rune instead.

[Rune]

Deep in Sounja's eyes there was a dancing flicker, not quite amusement, but pleasure in the finding, interest in the knowing. Bowing at what might be nominally called their waist, or one of their waists, the tall being, perhaps ten feet at the tips of their growing antlers, lowered themselves in a bow that was such an odd combination of Old Zaichaeri precision and animal grace as to appear almost a parody, almost otherworldly.

"Sivan Len'Myren," The Hytori accent was good though it showed that the speaker was not a native to that language, "I am Sounja, of the Kindred Spirits. I Welcome You."

The words were obviously ritual and just as obviously held power both aetheric and authoritative. The forest responded, not just the trees or the animals, but The Forest as a whole seemed somehow to reach out to the elf. The touch was very light, nothing like overwhelming, a gentle brush of acknowledgment against his consciousness, but to a Summoner who could recognize the vast fullness of the massive woods it might be so.

Inclining their head to each in turn they spoke to the new spirits who manifested themselves around the one they were bound to. The words felt the same for all of them as they had for Sivan but the sounds were different and, by the end, it was obvious that Sounja was speaking to each in their own elemental tongue. To Exael was offered a nod in the same manner that one had been offered, without words or other acknowledgment.

When they rose again to their full height one of their deer's ears flicked and then they nodded,

"Dyfndr, my Aidolon, welcomes you also into himself." This second greeting was meant for all of them, and the implication that Sounja might be bonded to the spirit of the forest itself, fell slowly over the little group as a mantle comes to rest. Their host did not add anything more on the subject but left a polite gap of a long moment in case Sivan, or any of his companions, chose to ask.

"We are pleased that Aurin Kavafis could take our message of invitation to you where you dwell and deliver you here to us at this time of your choosing."

There was nothing coy in the words, no hidden implications, it seemed to simply be the way Sounja spoke. An older way, but beyond that, it felt as though they spoke in the same cadence and vocabulary as certain types of spirits did, in the language of the contracts of soul that Summoners must learn to survive.

[Sivan]

I, Exael, greet you. I am the sorcerer's aidolon.

He was a celestial creature in a wild place, but his soul was connected to Sivan's now, and so perhaps he was more comfortable there than he ought to be. Most of the spirits who would have been most interested in this place and these people remained behind, keeping sacred his own grove. But Perxy whooshed around him, dancing patterns through his fur before greeting the other air elementals in their own manner of communication. An eldritch thing even floated nearby, something like a jellyfish with a humanoid skull within its translucent flesh; its eye sockets glowed a pale blue as if reflecting the sky, but they were looking elsewhere, invested in other things than what was happening between the summoners.

Fascinating, he thought, wondering if he could build such a bridge between Torin's soul and the Gritaeri who was the soul of his valley.

"We are pleased to be here on this day," he replied. It had occurred to him that this was the anniversary of the breaking of Zaichaer; he didn't know if that made it an auspicious day or not, but while this place was connected to the Zaichaeri covens, it was not, itself, within Zaichaer. Of course, he would not put it past the covens to build permanent portals between them. The feather light touch of the spirits was not offputting for a half-Dratori summoner cloaked in a motley of animal anatomy. It felt exploratory and welcoming, and those were positive. He hadn't yet sussed out great secrets of the Grove, but his arcane senses were open to the world around him and the creatures, physical and spiritual, within it.

Sivan took a few steps forward on golden paws, then waited. It was vaguely animalistic, asking to be let into the den, but awaiting permission.

[Rune]

There was a sound, a combination of many smaller sounds; creaking of trees, shifting of earth, rustle of leaves. It was loud only in that all of it seemed to happen at once. It made those with sentient ears feel as if they could hear words in it, but not quite catch what they might be.

Exael would hear a greeting in return, something entirely of Earth that translated into Common only in a very basic way, identifying the speaker and its Aidolon and, if not welcoming the Celestial and the one it was bonded to, at least allowing them without malice. It would be difficult for the soul of a forest so large to feel the same kinds of things as creatures so small as Sivan or even Sounja, but it conveyed interest and no ill-will.

Sounja listened and seemed to understand, though even they could not have made words that contained the full message. When it had settled and Sivan had spoken they looked around the forest for a long moment, as though scenting something with an organ other than their nose, before returning to the part-bear form.

"It is indeed a portent day. Strange things have come to pass. All spawn of the storm of Mists that first came one year ago have disappeared from the forest. The spirits whisper of this happening beyond, all over Zaichaer. Do you know of this thing, Sivan Sunrunner?"

The tall guardian of the Kindred was asking if Sivan knew what had caused the disappearance and this was made clear somehow in the little gestures that they were constantly adding. It wasn't the Dratori hand language, but it was something similar, as though, perhaps in the ancient past the elves had learned it from the spirits.

Once the answer came Sounja nodded, and, as if realizing that they had left a guest standing on the threshold shook their head at themselves a little and waved a long arm back toward the opening of stone and vine.

"The forest is safe, once again, but I welcome you still, into The Grove, where you will be safe for so long as you choose to remain."

Passing through the portal felt no different than stepping through the stone arch that led from Sivan's garden to his neighbor's. Once inside, it also felt a little like passing into the little garden space that the elves had created. If suddenly the world had transformed into such a garden of spirits and magic, it would have felt like The Grove.

Creatures, all wild whether sentient or animal, could be seen here and there, wandering among the trees and clearings. Sounja closed the portal after they stepped through but then stood quietly, hands folded, allowing Sivan to feel, and see, and experience The Grove.

The sense that while the summoner experienced The Grove, The Grove was experiencing the summoner equally filled Sivan's mind. It was not an invasive experience, but more a sharing of selves, and, the longer he spent experiencing it the more he came to realize that every living thing within the magical place was a part of the experience. A thousand, thousand sparks of life, some with minds like his, some with minds so different that were almost impossible to comprehend, all floated within the space together, allowing themselves to be known. The greater consciousness of The Grove itself kept the encounter from being overwhelming, gentling so it was more like looking up at a vast sky filled with stars rather than looking up at the sun and being blinded. Every spark was aware and welcoming but none tried to push into Sivan or pull him into themselves, they just were there, available; interested but passive.

All of Sivan's bonded spirits had gone quiet as they too were pulled into all that was but none were feeling alarm.

As this was happening, Sivan's physical senses were working too, taking in the wild, but somehow intentional beauty of the place. After a few moments, he was able to see that there were dwellings and gathering places made of earth, of living trees and plants, of rock and of combinations of these, all around him. A river could be heard flowing not far away and the sun shone in bright shafts through trees so tall they must be as ancient as The Grove felt. Because of this the light all around was tinted in shades of green and yellow, making it feel not quite real, even as a part of Sivan thought that this might be the most real place he had ever been.

[Sivan]

"Zaechaer blamed Kalzasi," he said slowly. "Kalzasi blamed Zaichaer, or the Imperium to the West. From what I have gathered, though, these were god-matters. Overreaching. The sort of thing that made the Clockwork Wastes." Sivan was needfully vague; the news from the spirits was more conceptual than articulated. Now that he was closer to ground zero, he felt it in places within himself that were older. The cracking the of the Godspire. The shattering of the Rift Gates. This was similar, albeit more localized. He didn't have actionable details, only a sense that he ought to be careful when approaching such powers. "Aurin might know better than I. He travels to Zaichaer. He has been close to it. His senses are keen."

The elf knew Torin's master to be a master sembler among other things. If he was not learned in magic, he was skilled at powerful.

When they followed Sounja through the portal, his senses were not overwhelmed, but they were arrested. It did resonate like his home, but it also touched those older parts of his soul as well. He wondered if the ancient Hytori lived like this, in concert with nature, everything reverberating with enchantment.

"God is alive," he murmured to himself, "magic afoot." If asked, he would not have been able to say why the old Vallenor koan came to his lips. It did. Perhaps he would meditate upon it later.

After some time—he wasn't keeping track—he was almost a part of the Grove. He let enough of it in and put enough of himself out that he was, at least temporarily, at home here. To those with a sembling sense, his aura looked more like a tree's, drinking in the Grove's energy like water in his roots while leaves and flowers budded from him only to be gently tugged away as if in a breeze. He didn't lose himself, though he could sense ego death upon the horizon. He shifted existing for now in concert with the place and its genii.

Now he didn't need to speak. He smiled to Sounja, and Sounja knew he was ready for whatever was to come next.

[Rune]

Sounja smiled back, a sunny thing that had so much more depth to it now as, when their eyes met, Sivan got a little packet of information about the Kindred. None of it was in words, but it translated perfectly into the state of mind Sivan had allowed himself to shift into to exist in harmony with the Grove. The packet was Sounja in essence, not all of them, but like a deep pond that one dips a hand into. Impressions of their personhood as a whole, their current mood and state of well being, as well as a little of their current thoughts.

The thoughts suggested they walk a little, see more of the Grove and settle, then, they would speak again.

As they walked they encountered many types of beings; more spirits, those both untethered and bonded, animals, a variety of sentient races and their Aidolons. Each he passed offered Sivan gentle eye contact if he wanted it, and each time he accepted he got a little packet of similar information as he had gotten from Sounja. He could feel that they were receiving the same from him, a little burst of who he was, how he was, and what he was feeling. It came to him that it was what the people who lived in the Grove used as an introduction, a greeting, a communion. It would be very difficult to harm, or even argue in bad faith with someone with whom you have shared such a greeting, even for only the brief little bursts Sivan was receiving as a newcomer. It was easy to see that, if one lived constantly thus, it would be nearly impossible to fall out of harmony with the other living things that shared the space.

Time did not seem to pass the same way inside the Grove as it did outside, or, perhaps it was that time did not pass through Sivan the same way inside the Grove as it did elsewhere. Either way, it seemed as though Sivan spent days walking as a comfortable pace, meeting the inhabitants and being accepted by them as Exael and his bonded spirits did the same, but, eventually, he found himself in a little clearing. Several trees had died therein, and when they had their stumps had been left, leveled and smoothed to form a small grouping of wide, circular tables. Around the stumps had grown large mushrooms that could be used as chairs, but there were spaces without them as well. The reason for these became obvious when Sounja folded all four of their hoofed legs under them and settled to rest where they could comfortably speak to someone who sat at the table.

Sivan could choose to sit, or remain standing, there were no expectations, only comfort and rest offered. In a moment little spirits appeared carrying wide leaves that formed little bowls and placed them on the stump table. Other sprites came after, filling some bowls with clear water, others with flowers, nuts and berries.

"Will you refresh yourself with me, Sivan Sunrunner? I would speak to you of why we sent word requesting your presence."

[Sivan]

This all felt familiar, though it was not.

There was the similar feeling that he felt in his own garden, a much smaller place than this forest that was given the fond diminutive; it was much more than a grove. This felt like when he didn't have a name to call, when he had to cast a part of himself into the Aetherium or similar to seek out a spirit who would deign to work with him. And it felt like how he communicated there, how he communicated as a Dratori spiritwalker. But it also felt like how he communicated with Torin now, their auras open to each other.

Sivan wasn't oversharing, nor were they, but he was happy to greet, to be greeted, to commune.

When they came to the table, he adapted himself so that sitting at the chair would be comfortable. His shame became more fully humanoid, though his body remained covered in golden fur - shaggy where it needed to be though he doubted Sounja would be offended if Sivan sat nude as the day he was born. Elven ears remained more lupine, and while Sounja might not have noticed such detail, the colors of his eyes were not quite right. They were patterned after Dragonfly's. He saw the world in more vibrant and subtle color variations than most other creatures.

"I thank you," he said simply as he sat and a small bounty was brought before him, "for your hospitality." Once he ate, there would be another bond of non-aggression between them, if the Kindred followed ancient rules as did the Hytori. More nuance passed between them despite the simple words, and he knew Sounja understood. They understood each other, though his host promised him a deeper understanding.

Most of the spirits that had accompanied him drifted off, exploring the environs nearby. Exael, accepted but still strangely Other here, stood by Sivan. The celestial was from a realm quite different from this one, and while bridges could be built between celestials and the wild - Exael and Sivan were living proof - those bridges still spanned the void.

[Rune]

Once Sivan had settled and began to partake so did his host. Even for a creature so large Sounja ate with a delicacy that reminded one of a deer, or an aristocrat, a combination of the two. As they ate some of the birds returned to take a nut or berry, a few other small woodland creatures also arrived to run across the natural table to join them for a few mouthfuls accompanied by curious looks and sniffing before bounding back off into the gloaming.

When the hunger and thirst they had both worked up had been slated Sounja settled back onto their haunches, a posture of comfortable repose but their eyes stayed alertly attentive to their guest.

"What you have seen today, what you have experienced, is something we only share with other Kindred, or those we would like to become Kindred."

They let this idea settle for a drawn out moment to give Sivan time to process it before continuing.

"I do not believe Aurin Kavafis was told that we have heard your name spoken by the spirits, or that what we heard made us search for you through other realms, but what we found pleased us."

The smile that now came was gentle and friendly, appreciative without personal intention,

"Few who are initiated outside our order come to such a balance with nature as you have. Few seem able to commune with the spirits without attempting to force them to their will." The sonorous voice dipped into sadness over this reality but did not linger.

"We, the Kindred, would like to know you. To truly do so we would invite you to join us. There is power to be gained, secrets and mysteries that will be revealed but,"

The smile was more personal this time,

"I did not think either of those would be particularly appealing to you, which is one of the reasons I am so intent on making our offer. I would have you for a brother in our order, but before you should worry,"

They held up a forestalling hand,

"We would not require you to relocate. You would live where you chose but you would have access to The Grove, and the Kindred, though, to us, that is like saying the same thing twice. We would teach you, and, I have no doubt, learn from you. Our initiates, the ones we choose and mark and train are taught to be in tune with the natural world, the spirit world, and the world of sentient creatures. Almost all struggle with this, I did, for a long time. So, to find one who has achieved this on their own, by their own nature..."

Sounja's voice tailed off but they kept their eyes on the elf and spoke through the open bond of the Grove, a chorus of the voices of all who were within agreeing as one,

You are extraordinary. Join us that we may Be.

It was not a compulsion, it was an acceptance of Sivan as he was and an offer to assist him in becoming what he might want to be.