Welcome back. The The Flow journey continues.

Chapter 4 – Pressure

Alaeyira appeared in a meadow filled with small flowers of every color. She walked toward the forest, and with each step it felt as if the flowers turned toward her. There was no path, yet her steps were steady and clear, as if the destination itself was the path she was already walking.

As if by magic, with her next step the forest vanished, and she found herself near a small cottage, just outside what looked like a town of sorts — a blend of medieval and Elven nature‑architecture, something that shouldn’t work, and yet the magic‑born proved that it does.

She entered the cottage, waved her hand, and the tea leaves, water, teapot, and stove worked together to prepare the tea. She let herself fall into the armchair near the window. She looked toward the forest, took a deep breath, and whispered:

“Home.”

She barely had time to enjoy the tea when Soltara burst inside. Soltara had been following Alaeyira for years, trying to convince her to take her as an apprentice. But Alaeyira always refused — gently. Not because Soltara lacked potential; she had plenty, perhaps even more than Alaeyira had at her age. But because Soltara would have to face something whose outcome even Alaeyira could not predict — and she could not drag Soltara into it.

“My lady…” Soltara began, then stopped breathing fast, before continuing, “…my lady, the elders… the elders are gathering in the Sanctum. Someone told them that you sold magic artefacts to a non‑magic human.”

“Tea?” Alaeyira asked calmly, already pouring into the empty teacup on the small table in front of her. It was uncertain whether the cup was there because she knew she would have a visitor, or simply because she had the habit of being prepared.

“My…” Soltara began, but Alaeyira gestured for her to sit… and she obeyed. She never disobeyed her, afraid of pushing her away and losing any chance of becoming her apprentice. Little did she know that sometimes Alaeyira wished Soltara would be a bit more persuasive, more convincing, even a bit more demanding.

They sat there without exchanging thoughts or words, enjoying the calmness of the approaching sunset.

“It’s time,” Alaeyira said, placing the teacup on its plate. She stood up, waved a finger, and her cape came over her shoulder. She was only a few steps from the door when three rapid knocks sounded — demanding an answer.

Soltara jumped off her chair, escaping a sharp sound of surprise.

Alaeyira opened the door.

An elder stood there — long white hair, a robe woven with golden threads, holding a staff with a wooden shaft and a blue crystal on top, which by any law of physics should not stay there.

“Master,” Alaeyira said, bowing in reverence.

“Master?” Soltara echoed, reaching her side. Then she looked at the door. “Elder Arboust… evening,” she continued, flustered, and offered her own reverence.

Alaeyira and Arboust looked at each other, and both understood what needed to be done.

She stepped outside, took Arboust’s arm, and before Soltara had the chance to follow, Alaeyira said — without turning back:

“On the study table there is a potion recipe. Make four vials. If it’s not perfect, I’ll make you drink it — so make sure there are no mistakes. For later…”

She finished, waved two fingers, and the door closed — almost hitting Soltara’s nose.

“Yes, Master,” Soltara said exuberantly, a confirmation full of energy — exactly the kind Alaeyira could have imagined before it even happened. After all, this was the very first request Soltara had ever received, and if this wasn’t a sign… even a faint one.. that she had a chance in becomeing her apprentice, then nothing was.

 They walked calmy through the town’s streets. Same rush, same symphony of sounds, same random blending of smells that brings a constant pull to a flowers corner or just wakes up the stomach. They discussed many things except why the elders are summoning her. Not because the subject does not require their attention or is not important, because they need this time for them. The issue would not disappear, so it made no difference if it was tackled later.

They lingered a bit on the subject of Soltara becoming an apprentice. Arboust did not asked her to take her as apprentice, instead he told her how fulfilled he is and lucky in having her as apprentice. How she passed the struggles and how she grew in what she is today. Alaeyira knew exactly what Arboust is hinting too and her smiling and little confirmation of the accomplishments, was enough the let him feel an apprentice is possible… someday. Subtlety, hinting that main reason for her to have an apprentice will be just to continue his legacy, being a shame to stop with her.  

They passed by a tavern where a wedding was held and all there were dancing in cercle while in the middle was the bride and groom. They lingered there a few min as there was no rush, both enjoying that moment of contagious happiness. Maybe because the Sanctum was just a couple of minutes away and a portion of joy and happiness is always stronger than any magic.

They entered the Sanctum, walked through the tall, arced hallways with golden motifs, crossed the center atrium and enter in a room relatively small in comparison with all the pass by then. This was the second time Alaeyira visited the Sanctum. First time was almost ten years before, when she was just a child, for the apprentice selection. When the elders chose their apprentice, is always one and happens rare enough to be set as a tradition and celebrations.

The three Elder were waiting for then with radiant faces, as no reason to be afraid exists, and were happy to have them there. They were sitting in a small semicircle, starting with Elver Evayileen, an even with nature and water magic affinity, Elder Bomidar, a dwarfen mage with earth and fire affinity and Elder Fanfir from the icy tribes, with wind and ice affinity. And then, on their left, sat Elder Arboust, the only mage with shadow and light affinity. The Elders were held in high regards because they are the only ones with dual affinity. The council used to be far larger but for reasons unknown, for generations no dual magi appeared. Or supreme mage with three affinities, for that matter. As for an archmagi, some say is over a millennium, but Arboust simply said “is so long ago than truh skipped the legend pages and fell right into myth”. The last archmagi is recorded to have four affinity and was closed to master the fifth one, which is so unbelievable as a non-magic to evade a magical attack.

“Take a sit dear,” said Evayileen with a soft elven accent, with her specific melodic and soothing voice, and a chair materialize closed to Alaeyira, tall enough to be almost at the same level with them.

“Alaeyira…” Arboust began softly — and yet she flinched, just a bit. His tone was calm, as it always was, but he called her full name. He always called her Lyira, and the few times he used her full name were when things were dead serious.

“Relax, dear, we will not ask you to get married!” said Evayileen, triggering a small burst of laughter from Bomidar and Fanfir. Arboust just shook his head in a well, that wouldn’t be a bad idea kind of way, which made Alaeyira smile. They had already touched this subject a couple of times. For their amusement, she sighed in relief.

“Lyira…” Arboust continued, correcting himself, “…why do you think we called you here? And why now? Do you know?”

Alaeyira took her time before answering. She had learned that behind a simple question there is rarely a simple answer — especially when the question comes from an Elder. She waved her hand and five teacups and a steaming teapot appeared. She poured the tea, unrushed, almost ceremonial, and then served it one by one, starting with Arboust. No one stopped her or told her the interruption was unnecessary or against any rule. Perhaps because one of the unwritten rules in the magic‑born community is: never mess with teatime.

Alaeyira waited a bit longer, until each Elder took a sip of tea, then answered — clearly and respectfully.

“I sold a focus array to a non‑magic human, without authorization from the Magic Artefacts Control Ministry.”

“That trinket?” Bomidar said, and started laughing.

“Soon it will be two centuries since those were marked as obsolete. Maybe in a few more centuries they’ll be useful for a museum,” added Fanfir, supportive.

“Besides, did you really sell the artefact to that human? No transaction recorded on that trinket’s energy signature.”

“How is your cultivation progress? You should have ascended by now, Lyira. And your visit to that human… don’t get me wrong — is it of any help?”

Another small pause followed, broken only by slurps and fading footsteps from outside.

“Normally… no… but there is something I can’t explain,” Alaeyira replied — and immediately wondered if what she said made any sense to them. Because now she knew why she had been summoned, and suddenly she felt she had no answers for what she believed would follow.

Evayileen lifted a soundproof barrier, and the four Elders chatted for a couple of minutes — which was a couple of minutes more than Alaeyira would have given a reason for. But she could not show surprise, nor did she have time for it, as she was trying to prepare for the follow‑up questions.

The barrier dissolved.

“Ascending is a priority,” Fanfir began — sounding more like a command due to his baritone voice and the rhythm of his speech. “It’s your duty.”

“A duty it might be…” Arboust intervened, with the clear tone he used when explaining a spell to her for the tenth time, just before his patience began to fray, “…but it is not hers to carry. As it was never ours, nor the ones before us. Yes, she is the first in a century with true potential for dual affinity. But it is not for us to decide if she will awaken — nor to blame her if she does not.”

“But…” Bomidar started, then stopped when the other three looked at him. “Little sorceress,” he continued, gentler, “we are here to help you with whatever you need. We are old enough to start feeling the flow of the realm beyond this one. You’re the hope we would like to take with us when leaving. Think about it.”

From that point on, there was no pressure from them. Bomidar’s last sentence was more than enough. They spent a few more minutes chatting, asking questions about the human who had captured her attention. They didn’t learn more than they already knew.

Later, it would be proven that they were not even ready to know.

Previous: Chapter 3 – The “Why” in “How”

Coming Next: Chapter 5 – Incompatibility