Scientific Sorcery : 43 Multigenerational Effects of Starfall on Arcanicx Phenotype (Patreon)

The Yaga seemed at a momentary loss for words.

"Well?" I asked. "What should I do about Amari? Any suggestions, my wise and powerful Master of the Wood?"

I watched as Yaga's expression shifted from concern to contemplation. She took a long sip of her tea before responding and then slid an organic-looking cup over to me and poured me some tea. I didn’t drink it, not trusting its questionable properties.

"Amari is... a complex issue," she said finally. "She's one of the most powerful Sorceresses in all of Thornwild, and her influence extends far beyond the borders of Skulldug. It just doesn't make sense..."

"What doesn't make sense?" I demanded.

"Why would Amari send this young Arcanicx after you?" The Yaga waved a wrinkly hand at Cali.

"Maybe Amari was testing the waters, seeing how I'd react to a less experienced hunter before sending someone more formidable," I shrugged. "Isn't that how these things work? It also seems like Amari sells prophecies to rich, young Arcanicx. She'd make more money if she sold it to more people."

"Amari's motivations are often... obscure, related to the powers of the Wild Hunt," the Yaga said. "We can't discount the possibility that this is all part of some larger game she's playing. The Gygr's influence is... what's concerning me the most. This Arcanicx smells of Chrizantia's meddling, her body contaminated with far too much blood magic."

I glanced at Cali through the Astralscope, not seeing anything cursed around her. Grandhilda's 700+ year old spiritual senses were likely superior to my dinky gemstone glasses though.

"Was it my fault that the Gygr got into Callista's head?" I asked. "I took away all of her magic tools."

"Not exactly," the Yaga shook her head. "The infection in her is old..."

"How old?" I asked.

"Older than she is. The door to the deepest Astral Abyss has been pried open into the souls of her foremothers Since Starfall," the Yaga replied darkly. "Arcanicx like her are more monster than human, changed, remade by the poison of the Wormwood Star. Things like her hunt down our heroes, bind them into obedience. I didn’t think that someone like her would come after you so soon, didn’t think that Skulldug would sell a prophecy to someone from the South.”

“Can’t you see the future like Stormy?” I asked.

“Not when a big player like Amari is involved, muddying the waters,” the Yaga shook her head. 

"So, what, the Arcanicx are fundamentally corrupted beings, is that what you're saying?” I asked, glancing at Cali.

“Yes. They gain power through unnatural means, constantly feeding their artefacts blood. You cannot save this cursed creature,” the Yaga said. “Blood magic tears at the soul, weakens it. This girl’s soul is the result of generations of dark magic, and it isn’t simply torn–it’s filled with deep hollows, gnawed away by her use of the power of Wormwood. The Gygr borrowed through the hollows, infested her, by taking advantage of the damage that was already there.”

“How long does she have?” I asked.

“A week,” the Yaga shrugged. “Perhaps more. She is a perfect vessel for Chrizantia to create a Jotun. The Gygr already marked Callista as one of her chosen.”

“Will a Jotun come after her?” I asked.

“Yes,” the Yaga nodded.

“Won’t Zemy’s banner keep her invisible to that thing?” 

“They will indeed. But, if the Jotuns do not find her, then the Song of the Abyss itself will lead Callista to Chernobog, its call getting stronger with every passing day. Eventually, when she goes to sleep, she will not wake, and her own feet will take her to Chrizantia’s watery domain.”

“And if I…”

“If you attempt to stop her from reaching Chernobog, Cali or one of the Jotuns will capture or kill you, Ioan,” the Yaga said. “The void has always been inside Callista since her birth. She should not have come this far North. She is already a dead-walker.”

“But Stormy can...” I began.

“Stormy is just a kitten, Ioan,” the Yaga said. “She can sense the most likely outcome that will help you survive, but that’s about it. She lacks human understanding of… more complex, nuanced subjects. There is nothing you can do for Callista, Ioan. Your garden won’t even be able to use her body like you’ve used the bodies of the bandits from Bernt–the Arcanicx lack the heart cores of Nordstaii men.”

I simply stared at the witch. I came here hoping to acquire answers, but the answers I got weren’t the ones I wanted. 

Stormy got off the skull and relocated to my lap, wrapping herself around my hand, purring and staring up at me with violet-silver eyes.

“What about the men from Bernt?” I asked as I began to pet the kitten. “Bobliss knows how to kill witches.”

“That blade at your side can kill a witch,” the Yaga pointed out. “Bobliss is Jarl, the a grandchild of a DyrkJarl. It’s likely that he will simply rip that sword from your side and stab you through the heart with it. You've already drawn far too much attention to yourself and the more you roam about, the more likely you are to perish. The path of a witch is one of subtlety and patience, not reckless action.”

“What do you suggest I do?” I asked.

“Leave the Arcanicx and that cursed blade here,” the Yaga said. “I will drown both in my domain. My roots will take apart the girl and grind the cursed blade to naught in a century or so.”

I blinked.

“And me?”

“I will grant you a spot for your… domain to be planted inside mine.”

“What?” I sputtered.

“I have a few dead spots inside of my domain where my garden hasn’t taken root yet” the Yaga explained. “There was some dragonglass there that I finished dissolving only a decade ago.”

I squinted at her, my sense of paranoia ticking up.

“I’ve consulted the future and my Master Yaga Baga,” Grandhilda said. “I did warn you when we first met, Ioan–the path of a witch is simply not meant for boys. You are a man and thus your domain is fundamentally wrong, broken, static, not like that of female witches. Your domain will never grow in size, will never expand outward. Your magic senses will never grow, never increase no matter how much you meditate.”

I swallowed.

“You’re not radiating any magic at all Ioan. Your aura is absolutely still, inert, like dead water. You will never see spirits and the spirits will never see you,” the Yaga revealed.

“But I can…” I began.

“Liquify your tiny domain with a stone trinket you’ve made?” She arched a silver eyebrow. “That won’t help you survive. Forget about Svalbard, stay here, be my apprentice. Bobliss will never be able to reach you inside of my wood. Unlike the other young witches he killed, I am a Master of the Shalish wood, fighting back the Gygr’s influence for centuries.”

The offer was tempting–safety, a chance to learn from a true master, a reprieve from the multitude of threats that seemed to be closing in around me. But something about it didn't sit right.

"And what about my research?" I asked. "My desire to understand the nature of magic and this world?"

Yaga's eyes softened slightly. "You can continue your studies here, under my guidance. There's much I can teach you about the nature of magic and the world."

I shook my head. "But it wouldn't be the same, would it? I'd be stuck here, following your path, not forging my own."

"Ioan," Yaga sighed, "sometimes we must accept our limitations. The path you're on is dangerous. If you go out there you will die, fall to the Gygr. I can see torn silver threads on the Arcanicx’s outfit as plain as day - the Gygr’s influence permeates all of Svalbard like a spider's web. You cannot return to the pub, Ioan.”

“What, if I stay in your domain, flying Champions won’t spot me from the sky?” I asked.

“They will not,” the Yaga said. “The Shalish wood conceals itself from sight, is unplottable.” 

“We reached your domain just fine,” I said. 

“You slowly and purposefully approached from below, following a familiar who can sense the future,” the Yaga shrugged. “If you were an enemy I would have just drowned you.”

I looked down at Stormy’s wide violet eyes. There were spirals of endless stardust within, galaxies of magic, of possibility. I knew what I wanted, but what would the kitten think about us staying here? I pulled the Codex out of my bag and opened it to kitten drawings.

"What do you think? Should we stay here with Yaga Grandhilda?"

Stormy considered for a moment, then deliberately placed her paw on [NO].

"Are you sure? It seems like it would be safer here."

Stormy's paw remained firmly on [NO].

“We’re keeping our other kitten too then?”

[YES]

I slid the book back into my bag and turned back to Yaga, who was curiously watching our exchange. "It seems my feline advisor disagrees with your proposal."

Yaga's eyes narrowed. "And you trust the judgement of a cat over the wisdom of your Master?"

"Stormy kept me alive so far," I replied, my fingers wrapping around the Knell-blade.

The Yaga's eyes shimmered from within with green spirals, spindly things unfolding away from her figure like gargantuan wings heading to envelop me. Stormy rushed up my shoulder swatting at the shimmering feelers.

"You can't keep me here against my will, Grandhilda," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Can't I? You're in the heart of my domain now, Ioan. My power here is absolute. I could simply will the trees to hold you in place, or have the very air refuse to let you pass, order my familiar to put you to sleep.”

A cold chill ran down my spine.