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Story: The Source of Storms
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she stammered, “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just I’ve never seen one… Someone like you before. You hear stories, but I didn’t know what it really looked like.”
“It’s alright. I didn’t mean you did, just that it happens,” I said.
She smiled, and I felt some of the tension ease.
Eilith convinced Catriona to stay for dinner and the two of them talked while I listened, busying my hands with carding wool. Cat told us of Skeioholm, and the recent happenings with this family and that. Skeioholm was a much larger village than the one I had grown up near, and the market alone sounded intriguing. The deep and sheltered harbor meant it attracted much more trade than most other villages of Seonaid, and brought in goods and wares from all over Elvik, sometimes even other countries. Most of the village of Skeioholm was fairly well-off, and enjoyed a good holiday party.
Cat took a particularly long time describing this year’s Yule celebration: The burning of the blessed yule log, the food, the mead, the dancing. She told us what her dress looked like, how it flared as she twirled and danced throughout the night. Her stories made me miss the celebrations in Skalmarnes, and I wondered if I might be able to attend a holiday festival in Skeioholm soon.
It grew dark as we talked and began to snow. Eilith insisted she stay the night rather than make the long journey to town in the dark, so Cat took my bed for the evening and I made a bed of sheepskins near the hearth. Rose, Eilith’s wolfdog, flopped down beside me. I drifted to sleep with my fingers buried in her thick, warm fur.
CHAPTER FIVE
Cat left in the morning, hugging us both goodbye and riding off down the shadowed road into the forest.
“Do those love potions really work?” I asked as we watched her go. “Are they actually magic?”
“They work. But the answer to your second question depends on what you consider magic. They work in the same way many of my tinctures do, with the natural healing power of plants. Damiana increases sexual proclivity and helps bind two people together. Fermented honey with linden flower relieves anxiety and has a relaxing effect. And it’s slightly alcoholic, for courage.”
“So it only works if two people are already attracted to each other?” I asked.
Eilith chuckled. “Yes, it helps move things along if there is already a mutual attraction, if taken with the right intention, of course. It requires a bit of the users’ own magic. So, if the interest isn’t already present in both parties, I don’t give it out.”
“So the potions aren’t magic, then.”
“You’re asking for a black and white answer in a world that is only gray, child,” she answered. “Love itself is a far more potent magic than any practitioner could distill into liquid form. I know the limits of my abilities, but it does not mean it isn’t magic.”
“What do you mean when you say their ‘own magic?’”
“There is life energy present in every living thing. Some call it consciousness, some say it’s the spirit in all of us. Others, like myself, call it Source. It’s present in all of nature, all around us,even within us. That’s where my medicines get their power, their magic. Straight from Source, delivered through plants. Some places have more of it than others.”
I nodded, and an image of those strange stones from my dream flashed through my mind.
“But some of the things I make require extra input from the spirit, or Source, of those using them. And just like some places have more Source, some people have more Source than others. And a stronger connection to all Source outside of themselves. Like you.”
“Like me?”
“Yes, like you. Come on, clearly there’s something different about you! For fae’s sake, I mean, you scare the shit out of everyone who meets you with those black eyes. You’re called ‘fae-touched’ for a reason.”
“I thought that was just the story,” I said. “Just what they call us because we’re different.”
“There’s always a reason for the story, Halja. Always truth hidden in the legend. That’s why we tell stories. It’s how we show each other the truth.” She glanced up at the leaden sky. “Come. It’s stopped snowing, and it’ll be easier if I demonstrate. We need to do this soon anyway.”
Eilith set off toward the groundwater spring and I followed. I was used to her cryptic philosophizing by now, and I waited patiently for her to explain as we went.
“I’m sure you know many of the myths and legends of our land, but it seems to me you need a better education in history.”
Blunt observations like this were the kind that had hurt my feelings when I was new here, but I was getting used to her way of speaking.
“Thousands of years ago, humans were not the only ones who roamed this world, made their cities here, raised their families here. The fae folk of legend were real, and shared thisrealm with us for thousands of years. And when they left, they left their mark all over this land.”
“The old relics and ruins really were from the fae?”
“Yes, child, and some of them still are,” she answered.
“What do you mean, still–”
“Just listen. Patience, and I’ll explain.” She pulled her long skirt up a few inches as she stepped over a snowcapped log. “The fae and the old humans of long ago understood that there is magic in the land. All around us, in the water, in the air, in the earth beneath our feet. And within the fae, in their very blood and bones too. They existed with Source as a natural part of their lives, and so exposed humans to it as well. Some humans even learned the secrets of wielding it, working with it. One of the most common ways to do that was through the earth and the plants it gives us. So, to answer your questions again: Yes, my potions do work. And yes, they are magic. Some more than others.
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