From the Pen and Parchment of Benjamin of Manatee, refugee in Arboreus.
12 long years since the Dark Convergence, XXX years (TBA) after the Fracture.
A quaint little village — the scent of Rejuvenation in the air was still quite fragrant — the village of Hartfire, my new home. It was already the Moon of Harvest, and the Scept of Druids really knew how to make a show at this time of year. This time, even I decided to make an appearance. Even though I still wasn’t a full-fledged member of this community — no wonder, I didn’t partake in the Barking Ceremony yet, even though this year marked the fourth since I appeared here. What would that be on Syndesia? Twelve years, if I recall correctly?
Anyways, I lived here, with all the other Hart-Kin, as they’d be called in Common. Here, the locals call themselves Erwydra, which, while is hard for us to comprehend, still is more or less translated correctly. I’m not an eloquent speaker of the language of the locals — they didn’t teach us that in Horizon — yet I am already more than capable of holding long conversations, and even debate with them properly. Thankfully, my blood as both a merchant, and a scholar translate quite well even between languages. However, I can tell that there is quite a difference in culture.
While syndesian cultures more or less use stones, as well as woods for buildings, Arboreus, as I learned to know this plane’s name, tends to use all sorts of wood, and nature related magicks to manipulate the already existing flora to bend to their will, therefore creating all sorts of dwellings, not excluding mine. This type of magick however takes a certain affinity, that other races don’t seem to qualify for. For example, while I do know of human druids, they are mostly capable of using nature to their advantage, notwithholding an innate knowledge of all sorts of herbs and other greens, crawlers and animals, and even sometimes the very elements of nature — albeit the latest is rare with druids, as it is more suited for elemental mages.
However, the races of Arborean origins seem to exhibit such an innate affinity to these sorts of magicks, that even the wolf-like Udoadras, as well as the bear-, and tiger-like Nheedras, and Chadras respectively. While all of them show great potential, compared to the humans of Syndesia, Erwydras, and Nheedras in particular, are the best suited for these sorts of practices.
With all these descriptions of the great, and magickal, my ink will shortly run dry, and I still didn’t manage to throw everything I’ve seen here on paper. I am particularly looking forward to transcribe the daily life of an Hart-kin, as I personally feel it!s changes from my life before as human.
However, my changed daily routine aside — as not a lot of people should be invested in the intricacies of shedding antlers —, let me explain how this ritual of Rejuvenation usually goes, from my own experiences, in an anecdotal manner:
It was relatively early in the morning. Back in my childhood, I wouldn’t wake up until at least sunrise, but I had a tendency of staying in bed much later, sometimes almost until it was time for the bread to come out of the oven, and even sometimes until the leathers of the night were ready. During those times, I was mostly preoccupied with helping around the house, learning the not-so-niche know-how of preparing leather in a tanning tub, and pounding bread, yet now all that knowledge seems to be in vain.
Here, once you wake, as the last stars start fading over the purple skies, the wildfolk move in accordance with the laws of nature. It is no time for lazing in bed, the forest calls all, and even I feel the blessings of Nelena, mother of Nature, encompassing my heart. And as Nelena calls us, so does Tyros, once the stars are resting, his glory rises over the horizon, Rejuvenating all of us. This wed of the gods is the sole celebration of these here festivities.
As Nature rolls it’s course, so does Light, and according to the local beliefs, the sole purpose of living stems from their wedlock. However superficial or mythological this may sound, I found reality in this practice, as well as minor revelations of the gods — later on that. The equation however, spells out something rather common, that we all are quite familiar with: the circle of Life. Without Light, Nature dwindles, and without Nature our existence is in peril. Whether you view this through the eyes of non-believers, or the faithful, one thing is clear: we all cherish being alive.
And thus my story begins. After my wake, I prepared myself for the day thoroughly. I bathed, got rid of all access hair on my body, which is hard to find on this current body, as well as trimmed the bottoms of my antlers - those pesky baby hairs really make me look ungroomed. After donning my most dazzling robes, made to reflect on the power and intelligence of my new race, embroidered with the most soothing and ornate floral designs, I set out of my house — as I mentioned earlier, these dwellings are made of a type of nature magick, that the races of Arboreus are attuned to: this was the house I had made using my own affinity. It was akin to a willow tree, whose plant I sowed half a decade ago, and now grew out to be the most praiseworthy of plants. Stairs and ladders growing out of each and every branch, reaching for the forefront, with doors engraved of the finest meanders. The insides of the “growth” however depicted a more grounded, less spiritual visage: that of a scholar’s room would look like in the Horizon Institute of Magick. Bookselves towering as walls, encompassing every room, maybe except for the bathing balcony, as well as the kitchen — I saw those areas unfit for such decorations.
As I left this “growth”, I turned towards the town center, walking past faces I grew accustomed to seeing. My neighbors, Melinth, and Ephana, who ran a quaint little apothecary, with their daughter Elapha. She was in the same age as the girls of Myr, when they learned how to weave linen from flax. Thinking about my homeland caused me great pain, as I longed to see the once great cities. How they could have grown since then? Since that fateful day, when I bid farewell to my friends. Arcahem, Yasuke, I hope you are well, even this long after the Convergence. And to my comrades in arms, I hope you can live happily with your families, undisturbed, just as the fawn Elapha may.
Alas, that day was not for dread, quite as this diary is not for my crying. Let us continue— Emana, Loweth, as well as Helly were on their ways to the festivities. As I mentioned them in a previous chapter, they have been of great help to me, when I arrived, Loweth in particular. His great spirit, and warming antlers (as they say it here) gave me great reconciliation with my fate. They did not throw me away as garbage, nay, they gave me hope, and warmness. They shared their lives with mine, bathed, refitted, and fed me. How can I possibly not look at them with joy?
Everyone in the town, including me were carrying a wreath. This was a symbol of our attunement to nature, something we were only supposed to don during the great bonfire at noon, then once again during twilight. These two events symbolizing the death and rebirth of Nature and the Sun were the central motifs of this celebration. During the day Nature flows, as time, and as the dance we walk around the fire; while at night as the Sun fades, Nature slows, and our dancing will in turn take us to the ground, sitting and chatting, while also eating an assortment of plant-based snacks. As we sit down, we shall also throw our wreaths to the fire, showing that even in Nature, everything shall fade once.
I have been looking forward to this event, ever since I first heard of it.
