Ignis of Animi
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Ignis, Amicus, and Arline all landeded in an ungraceful heap of tangled limbs and branches. The enlil let out an ear splitting cry at the pain in her broken leg.
Arline stiffened, shocked by the awful noise and stunned by its painful effects.
Amicus shivered.
“Quit that racket!” a familiar voice chided the enlil.
Ignis’ eyes snapped towards the speaker, a tall, oak-like being that towered over her. Moss decorated its bark and two of its mighty branches folded across its trunk, much like arms folded across a torso.
“I… sorry…” the enlil apologized, sounding truly contrite, though her expression was more of a grimace.
The tree-like creature leaned forward, dark beady eyes focusing on the state of the creature. It spoke again in a low, rumbling voice.
“You seem to have fallen hatchling…”
Amicus shuffled his leaves and began an emphatic dance, hopping from one foot to another and waving his arms about.
The ent turned its attention to the small creature and watched the mons infans’ dance intently.
“I see…” it grumbled back. “I suppose it is only appropriate for the hatchling to be healed before we discuss the issues at hand….”
Arline finally seemed to recover from her shock and cried out, scrambling to her feet. “That lying bird owes me a debt! She--”
The ent merely gave the fae a slow, unimpressed stare. The kind of look an instructor might give an unruly student.
The fae stopped talking because she could feel that her complaints would not be heard.
Then, the ent raised a few of its branches, which glowed with a soft green light.
Ignis arched, face twisting into an ugly expression as her bones were realigned and fused. She collapsed afterwards and whimpered while vines grew and twisted around her leg, securing it. Finally, the pain faded into a dull, throbbing sensation. Her face had paled and was slick with a shiny layer of sweat from the process.
The ent rumbled, “Our magic is not like Castus… it can help with your body’s natural ability to heal but it will not repair damage immediately. This will… deepen the rift between you and Mortalis, hatchling …. However your guarantor has asked that I heal you. As you are his contracted, our grace extends toward you.”
“Thank you,” Ignis murmured in response, still breathing heavily.
Amicus stroked her damp forehead to comfort her.
After several long moments of breathing slowly and focusing on the contrast between the rough bark of Amicus’ twig-like fingers and the smoothness of his leaves, Ignis finally sat up. She used the sleeve of her cloak to wipe at her face. Noticing that it was far too warm for the heavy cloak she wore, the enlil stripped it off. Next, the heavy sweater and pants dropped to the ground, leaving Ignis in nothing but her feathers.
She shook, fluffing up her feathers, dark red rust colored ones covering her body. Her upper half was coated in fuzzy down while her lower half had the usual sort of feathers one saw on bird’s wings. Flight feathers hung from the undersides of her arms. Rolling, preening, and flapping, much in the way an actual bird might take a dust bath, Ignis did her best to rid her body of the uncomfortable sticky feeling of sweat that wouldn’t dry.
Smoothing down her feathers, Ignis preened her head feathers --black with a glossy sheen-- until they lay down as well.
“I assume this is related to my debt,” the avian ventured.
The ent rustled in the affirmative.
Ignis understood the gesture in part because it was reminiscent of Amicus’ own body language and because he understood it immediately, his own interpretation trickling into her consciousness automatically.
“You brought the fires of infernalis to this realm... and you must contain them.They have resurfaced since your last visit….”
“You did what,” Arline explained.
Ignis gave the fae an irritable look. She felt Amicus push to the forefront of her consciousness. The force of his spirit in her body was so sudden that the woman fell right into her familiar’s body before having a chance to resist.
In a voice that was less her own, and more like the wind in the trees, Amicus spoke using Ignis’ body. “I did what was necessary to preserve my familiar. Don’t even think to compare us to you.”
Ignis watched her own face twist into an ugly expression, eyes starting to glow red. She waved one of Amicus’ arms to get his attention before he activated her abilities unintentionally.
“It is my right to do as I see fit with my familiar. Do not question that again, fae.”
With that, Amicus allowed them to return to their own bodies.
Ignis blinked a few times, looking over to Amicus whose leaves were puffed up, much like her own feathers did when she was agitated. The enlil stroked the mons infans a few times to settle him down.
“Little forest child,” the ent interjected in its slow, grumbling way, “you need not defend your claim on the mortal. No one disputes that she is yours. However, she still does share responsibility for your actions.”
The statement was followed by yet another groan, one everyone seemed to understand.
The ent turned and began to lumber deeper into the forest.
Ignis scooped Amicus up into her arms and threw her clothing over one shoulder before following along with a scowling Arline in tow.
Dappled sunlight made patterns on the four beings moving through Natum as it filtered through the leaves overhead. Yellows, greens, and vibrant reds seemed to represent every season. Ignis could identify poplars, oaks, and birch, though there were many other trees that she couldn’t think of the name for though they appeared to be deciduous.
They came to a stone outcrop. Slate jutted from a nearby river while large stones formed a ring around the area.
The ent moved towards the center of the slate and settled there.
More creatures began to emerge from the trees as well. Two creatures that bore a striking resemblance to Arline, a great black dog whose shoulder was higher than the top of Ignis’ head, another ent -- this one a great pine of some sort-- and a centaur joined the first ent.
They each took places by one of the stones to form a semicircle, facing the oak ent.
At the oak’s prompting grumble, Ignis and Amicus took their place before the great creature. Arline made her way to her position a few feet away from the duo.
“Some representatives of this realm have gathered to discuss your fates….” the oaken ent informed them once everyone had stilled.
Arline looked toward her kin, but did not open her mouth to protest just yet. The Sidhe seemed less eager to try and assert herself when surrounded by other old, magical beings.
“This is your first visit to our realm since we last sent you back… and you have brought home one of our residents… though she seems to have interfered with Mortalis in a way that was… unappreciated by the mortals thus interrupting their vengeance.”
Ignis nodded once to affirm the truth of this statement and recognize what she had done.
“Ordinarily a mortal interfering in another mortal’s affairs would be none of our concern….”
The centaur spoke up next, drawing all eyes towards her. She had smooth brown fur and skin a color between dark earth and red clay. Her breasts were held up by wrappings that secured them in place and covered them. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and there was a wild look in her eyes.
“The centaur have been watching the stars ever since that flame reignited. We expected to extract a debt for the damage done, but the fire has returned in your absence. You should have died back then.”
Ignis didn’t flinch at the harsh statement, but her expression had fallen a bit.
“Evading death has damaged your connection to the mortal realm and allowed a bond to this one to grow. Those flames anchor you to Natum. That changes your status. Thus, calls into question your meddling in mortal affairs.”
Amicus rustled his leaves and took a few twirling steps.
“I understand that, though we have little precedent for dealing with halflings.”
The mons infans bristled but offered no further protest.
One of the fae spoke. The creature was tall and fair and beautiful, though neither its sex nor its gender were clear from its appearance and voice.
“You have returned our kin to Natum and freed her from great suffering, something which counts in your favor. It solidifies your position as a creature of Natum. Your mortal birth is unfortunate, though.”
The oak ent reentered the conversation. “Yes… there are deeds in your favor… still you must control those flames. Otherwise, we will be forced to extinguish them more permanently.... To do would most certainly end your mortal life. Other effects on your spirit are… unknown. There is a possibility you might become a woodland spirit…..”
“And what of me?” Arline cut in.
The birch ent finally spoke in a voice that was less gravelly and more liquid. It had a hint of rustling leaves to it. “You are to be dealt with by your kind, Sidhe….”
The other fae, a creature with dark golden colored hair affirmed this. “We shall deal with you in private. There is much to discuss, come.”
The pair of fae turned and walked back into the forest, disappearing between the trees.
Arline stood still, looking stricken for a moment before running after them. Her time with the humans had altered her worldview, but the Sidhe still remembered the customs of Natum enough to know better than to refuse to follow.
“We shall monitor the half mortal’s progress… our eyes will be toward the sky,” the centaur said.
The black dog made a breathy “woof” sound.
“Yes, someone should watch the halfling. It can be your responsibility to watch it and the mons infans for now,” the centaur replied.
Amicus hissed.
“Be patient young sapling,” the oak replied. “Though their words are bare they remain true….”
Ignis scooped her familiar, or rather, her contractor according to Natum, once more.
“I don’t understand how I’m supposed to control infernal flames….”
“You shall learn, hatchling,” the oak ent replied.
The birch rustled its leaves in agreement.
For the first time in a long time, Ignis feared for her life.
Arline stiffened, shocked by the awful noise and stunned by its painful effects.
Amicus shivered.
“Quit that racket!” a familiar voice chided the enlil.
Ignis’ eyes snapped towards the speaker, a tall, oak-like being that towered over her. Moss decorated its bark and two of its mighty branches folded across its trunk, much like arms folded across a torso.
“I… sorry…” the enlil apologized, sounding truly contrite, though her expression was more of a grimace.
The tree-like creature leaned forward, dark beady eyes focusing on the state of the creature. It spoke again in a low, rumbling voice.
“You seem to have fallen hatchling…”
Amicus shuffled his leaves and began an emphatic dance, hopping from one foot to another and waving his arms about.
The ent turned its attention to the small creature and watched the mons infans’ dance intently.
“I see…” it grumbled back. “I suppose it is only appropriate for the hatchling to be healed before we discuss the issues at hand….”
Arline finally seemed to recover from her shock and cried out, scrambling to her feet. “That lying bird owes me a debt! She--”
The ent merely gave the fae a slow, unimpressed stare. The kind of look an instructor might give an unruly student.
The fae stopped talking because she could feel that her complaints would not be heard.
Then, the ent raised a few of its branches, which glowed with a soft green light.
Ignis arched, face twisting into an ugly expression as her bones were realigned and fused. She collapsed afterwards and whimpered while vines grew and twisted around her leg, securing it. Finally, the pain faded into a dull, throbbing sensation. Her face had paled and was slick with a shiny layer of sweat from the process.
The ent rumbled, “Our magic is not like Castus… it can help with your body’s natural ability to heal but it will not repair damage immediately. This will… deepen the rift between you and Mortalis, hatchling …. However your guarantor has asked that I heal you. As you are his contracted, our grace extends toward you.”
“Thank you,” Ignis murmured in response, still breathing heavily.
Amicus stroked her damp forehead to comfort her.
After several long moments of breathing slowly and focusing on the contrast between the rough bark of Amicus’ twig-like fingers and the smoothness of his leaves, Ignis finally sat up. She used the sleeve of her cloak to wipe at her face. Noticing that it was far too warm for the heavy cloak she wore, the enlil stripped it off. Next, the heavy sweater and pants dropped to the ground, leaving Ignis in nothing but her feathers.
She shook, fluffing up her feathers, dark red rust colored ones covering her body. Her upper half was coated in fuzzy down while her lower half had the usual sort of feathers one saw on bird’s wings. Flight feathers hung from the undersides of her arms. Rolling, preening, and flapping, much in the way an actual bird might take a dust bath, Ignis did her best to rid her body of the uncomfortable sticky feeling of sweat that wouldn’t dry.
Smoothing down her feathers, Ignis preened her head feathers --black with a glossy sheen-- until they lay down as well.
“I assume this is related to my debt,” the avian ventured.
The ent rustled in the affirmative.
Ignis understood the gesture in part because it was reminiscent of Amicus’ own body language and because he understood it immediately, his own interpretation trickling into her consciousness automatically.
“You brought the fires of infernalis to this realm... and you must contain them.They have resurfaced since your last visit….”
“You did what,” Arline explained.
Ignis gave the fae an irritable look. She felt Amicus push to the forefront of her consciousness. The force of his spirit in her body was so sudden that the woman fell right into her familiar’s body before having a chance to resist.
In a voice that was less her own, and more like the wind in the trees, Amicus spoke using Ignis’ body. “I did what was necessary to preserve my familiar. Don’t even think to compare us to you.”
Ignis watched her own face twist into an ugly expression, eyes starting to glow red. She waved one of Amicus’ arms to get his attention before he activated her abilities unintentionally.
“It is my right to do as I see fit with my familiar. Do not question that again, fae.”
With that, Amicus allowed them to return to their own bodies.
Ignis blinked a few times, looking over to Amicus whose leaves were puffed up, much like her own feathers did when she was agitated. The enlil stroked the mons infans a few times to settle him down.
“Little forest child,” the ent interjected in its slow, grumbling way, “you need not defend your claim on the mortal. No one disputes that she is yours. However, she still does share responsibility for your actions.”
The statement was followed by yet another groan, one everyone seemed to understand.
The ent turned and began to lumber deeper into the forest.
Ignis scooped Amicus up into her arms and threw her clothing over one shoulder before following along with a scowling Arline in tow.
Dappled sunlight made patterns on the four beings moving through Natum as it filtered through the leaves overhead. Yellows, greens, and vibrant reds seemed to represent every season. Ignis could identify poplars, oaks, and birch, though there were many other trees that she couldn’t think of the name for though they appeared to be deciduous.
They came to a stone outcrop. Slate jutted from a nearby river while large stones formed a ring around the area.
The ent moved towards the center of the slate and settled there.
More creatures began to emerge from the trees as well. Two creatures that bore a striking resemblance to Arline, a great black dog whose shoulder was higher than the top of Ignis’ head, another ent -- this one a great pine of some sort-- and a centaur joined the first ent.
They each took places by one of the stones to form a semicircle, facing the oak ent.
At the oak’s prompting grumble, Ignis and Amicus took their place before the great creature. Arline made her way to her position a few feet away from the duo.
“Some representatives of this realm have gathered to discuss your fates….” the oaken ent informed them once everyone had stilled.
Arline looked toward her kin, but did not open her mouth to protest just yet. The Sidhe seemed less eager to try and assert herself when surrounded by other old, magical beings.
“This is your first visit to our realm since we last sent you back… and you have brought home one of our residents… though she seems to have interfered with Mortalis in a way that was… unappreciated by the mortals thus interrupting their vengeance.”
Ignis nodded once to affirm the truth of this statement and recognize what she had done.
“Ordinarily a mortal interfering in another mortal’s affairs would be none of our concern….”
The centaur spoke up next, drawing all eyes towards her. She had smooth brown fur and skin a color between dark earth and red clay. Her breasts were held up by wrappings that secured them in place and covered them. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and there was a wild look in her eyes.
“The centaur have been watching the stars ever since that flame reignited. We expected to extract a debt for the damage done, but the fire has returned in your absence. You should have died back then.”
Ignis didn’t flinch at the harsh statement, but her expression had fallen a bit.
“Evading death has damaged your connection to the mortal realm and allowed a bond to this one to grow. Those flames anchor you to Natum. That changes your status. Thus, calls into question your meddling in mortal affairs.”
Amicus rustled his leaves and took a few twirling steps.
“I understand that, though we have little precedent for dealing with halflings.”
The mons infans bristled but offered no further protest.
One of the fae spoke. The creature was tall and fair and beautiful, though neither its sex nor its gender were clear from its appearance and voice.
“You have returned our kin to Natum and freed her from great suffering, something which counts in your favor. It solidifies your position as a creature of Natum. Your mortal birth is unfortunate, though.”
The oak ent reentered the conversation. “Yes… there are deeds in your favor… still you must control those flames. Otherwise, we will be forced to extinguish them more permanently.... To do would most certainly end your mortal life. Other effects on your spirit are… unknown. There is a possibility you might become a woodland spirit…..”
“And what of me?” Arline cut in.
The birch ent finally spoke in a voice that was less gravelly and more liquid. It had a hint of rustling leaves to it. “You are to be dealt with by your kind, Sidhe….”
The other fae, a creature with dark golden colored hair affirmed this. “We shall deal with you in private. There is much to discuss, come.”
The pair of fae turned and walked back into the forest, disappearing between the trees.
Arline stood still, looking stricken for a moment before running after them. Her time with the humans had altered her worldview, but the Sidhe still remembered the customs of Natum enough to know better than to refuse to follow.
“We shall monitor the half mortal’s progress… our eyes will be toward the sky,” the centaur said.
The black dog made a breathy “woof” sound.
“Yes, someone should watch the halfling. It can be your responsibility to watch it and the mons infans for now,” the centaur replied.
Amicus hissed.
“Be patient young sapling,” the oak replied. “Though their words are bare they remain true….”
Ignis scooped her familiar, or rather, her contractor according to Natum, once more.
“I don’t understand how I’m supposed to control infernal flames….”
“You shall learn, hatchling,” the oak ent replied.
The birch rustled its leaves in agreement.
For the first time in a long time, Ignis feared for her life.