”... And what do you mean there’s no such thing? I can clearly remember all of it!” The last time I had seen one being, like, just a few hours prior... Though she didn’t need to know that.

Grisella looked at me as if I had suddenly grown two heads.

“I’m telling you! Floating runes? Snarky descriptions? You aren’t making any sense!” She snorted, before frowning. “Sure, there are scrying mirrors that can generally categorize spells. Darkness below! I’ve heard of a few that go as far as detecting which specific nodes a willing practitioner has opened. Maybe even what they offer to their host too... But, that’s the end of it! In the first place, Breath comes from the Source itself! It’s something sublime and obscure, even to the Higher Tribes! Nay, even to its very Avatars! ...Maybe what you finally managed to remember is a bit scrambled?”

Well, that was strange, and it opened a lot of questions, though it wasn’t completely unexpected. After all, while messing around, I had managed to discover quite a few interesting things about my situation... That being said, at the moment, I was far more interested in something she had just mentioned.

“Nodes?”

It wasn’t the first time I’d come across the word, and I did have my guesses. But, well...

“To think a practitioner could forget even that much!” The witch gave me an almost saddened side glance, pondering for a moment. “Hmm... Were you actually a disciple of mine, I’d normally say it’s still way too soon; you’ve yet to get enough of a grasp on Breath for it to be relevant, and sometimes having too much information beforehand muddles the waters.” The witch paused for a moment, leaning into her chair while giving me a significant look. “But, I guess that doesn’t really matter here, does it? I suppose a general overview of things does make part of basic training, anyway...”

Perhaps her intention was to make me feel uncomfortable, in hopes I might experience a change of attitude. Fat chance, though!

I don’t mean to brag, but I’m generally unrepentant. Rather than dwell on her pitiful attempts at -presumed- psychological warfare, I focused on her chair. Truly, it was impressive, in an unconventional way; a wooden relic, probably as old as its owner, and about as ugly. Honestly, the sheer fact that it hadn’t turned into dust as soon as she sat down was nothing if not an active proof of magic. The fact that she had somehow magicked it out of thin air certainly added to its mystique.

Even as I wondered if I could someday get my own conjured crappy chair -despite myself, I had to admit it would constitute quite the upgrade from my shiny balls, for both utility and style points- the witch repeated the trick.

With a snap of her fingers, a delicate silver pipe, about as thin as a pencil and as long as her arm, and a velvety burgundy pouch, that I knew was filled with aromatic herbs- appeared in her hands. With graceful movements that didn’t fit her harpy-like appearance, the witch then ritualistically filled and lighted the contraption, letting out a few puffs of smoke while, apparently, silently basking in the pleasure of the moment.

I knew from experience that she wouldn’t say a word after that, at least for a while. Honestly, I was more than happy to oblige; our relationship was strange enough that the frequent silent pauses could perhaps be called companionable. If anything, the sight made me wish for a pipe of my own. A plain, wooden one would suffice for me, though; her filigree-covered trinket was a tad too fancy for my tastes. Of course, my body would first have to grow a couple decades older before I allowed myself to indulge.

Only a few months had gone by since our little contract was made. Despite somewhat bloody beginnings, I believe we eventually came to a sort of mutual understanding. Namely, Grisella had quickly learned she wasn’t ever going to get a straight answer out of me, as long as I wasn’t willing to cooperate, and she had also proven flexible enough to put up with my crap. Although, to be fair, I had acted as if I didn’t care much for what she could teach me -a blatant lie-, nor for my life -a half-lie, at the very least- so, considering the contract, she was kinda forced to.

Overall, I have to admit that I was somewhat impressed anyway. Even though she had let herself initially get a bit carried away by her thirst for knowledge, she had gradually shown herself to be of the decent enough sort, and pretty much the living proof that at least some people do grow wiser with age.

Too bad that that’s never held true for me!

Anyway, small matters aside, our general arrangement had proven quite beneficial to me. Publicly, the witch, stricken by whatever arcane talents she had allegedly detected in me, had decided to take me as her future apprentice. Since she was locally reputable, and anything even remotely magic-related apparently constituted a rare and prestigious occupation, my parents had been elated.

Thus, it came to no surprise that none opposed the idea of Grisella extricating me from Lina’s suffocating attentions, initially for a few hours at a time, once every second day, knowing that the schedule would become more intense as I grew older. Supposedly, she was working towards giving me an early education that not even ‘imperial nobility’ would be able to find a fault with; grammar, logic, rhetoric, arithmetic, music... Truly, nothing short of the Trivium and Quadrivium, with an actually functional, mystical addendum on top!

Though, to be fair, Lina and Munok had probably been delighted by the idea for more than one reason, I guess. In fact, it was pretty evident that they hadn’t dallied during their newly found ‘free’ time. A second baby was already well on its way; as I was still too young, they had yet to tell me, but Lina’s bulging belly had proven rather poor at keeping secrets.

For their sake, may their secondborn come out healthy, normal, and, most importantly, not possessed.

Eventually satisfied with her intoxication, or having woken up from a senility-induced short nap, Grisella parted her wrinkled eyelids, letting a ring of smoke out of her mouth at the same time. Unnaturally, the hazy fluid slowly morphed into the vague shape of some sort of bird, which lazily circled the room a couple of times before dissipating into the air.

My eyes followed the strange spectacle, from beginning to end.

“Nifty.”

The witch childishly grinned. “I know, right? It might look simple, but I spent years getting the hang of it. Manipulating Breath's simple enough, but cajoling it into life-like movements is easier said than done! Anyway,” She frowned. “Where were we?”

I coughed, sympathizing with the difficulties of old age. “The Nodes.”

“Right! The Nodes... Hmm,” She took another drag from her pipe. “Let’s get started, then. Do you remember how our world came to- No, never mind, of course you don’t, you wouldn’t be asking if you did.”

I shrugged, happy to let her make her own assumptions.

The witch pondered for a moment, before giving me a playful wink, which was frankly disturbing. Then, she exhaled another huge puff of smoke. Again, the fumes moved as if guided by an invisible hand, swiftly coalescing into an amorphous blob, right in the middle of the room.

“In the beginning,” The witch suitably started. “there was only the Principle, as we have come to call it. The Principle is the true origin; eternal, immutable, and incognizable. For an unknown amount of time, for time holds no meaning to it, everything was the Principle, and there was nothing but the Principle. However, eventually,” Grisella heavily emphasized the word, letting out another puff of smoke. “through the Principle’s laws, the Source came to be. The Source, as its name states, is the origin of all that we currently know; while as unfathomable as its parent, it is pliant, it can change. In a way, it is change.”

Even as the last words left her lips, joined by her latest exhalation, the misshapen blob of fumes slowly morphed into a perfect sphere.

Grisella then paused, giving me a pointed look, almost as if taunting me to object to anything.

I did not oblige, though. For one, I was too preoccupied trying to wrap my head around all the bullshit she was spewing -and wondering what it might have to do with what I had asked about-, to pay much attention to her cues. For another, what little brain power I had not dedicated to that daunting task, decided to constantly remind me that I had better later ask exactly what she was smoking, just so that I may avoid the substance. As far as I could tell, it seemed to induce cognitive decline, and maybe some hallucinations too.

“Of course,” After a moment, Grisella nodded, seemingly satisfied. “there are as many theories of how things came to be as there are stars in the nightsky, and what I mentioned is just one among them, but it is what the brightest minds of mankind have managed to unveil! Anyway, as I was saying, the Source was then forcibly brought down by the same laws that created it. Thus, the physical realm came to be. Or rather, a physical realm, the Lowest One. Our realm.”

The sphere of smoke split into two, the first half becoming a smaller sphere while the second one flattened, expanding to become a ring. The small sphere of smoke then passed through the center of the latter.

“Later, through its own momentum, the Source kept gradually ascending, giving birth to eight more, increasingly subtler realms.”

The ring that had been formed got duplicated and split into eight more, increasingly smaller rings that lined up one on top of each other, even as the sphere lazily went through their centers. Once it reached the top, the sphere popped, before reforming into a bigger one.

“Eventually, the Source did regain its original state, but the realms it created in its wake didn’t disappear, instead, they retained its emanations. Breath.”

Small rivulets of smoke came out of every ring, like questing tentacles, connecting them to the bigger sphere on top. After they did, the entire structure started morphing, quickly realigning into a diagram of the human body. Somehow, nine colored spots manifested on it, from the feet all the way to the head.

Grisella gave me a meaningful look.

“That divine spark insufflates life into all that Breathes, from the tiniest of seeds to the highest of mortals. As such, sentient beings are made in semblance of the Source’s journey. Thus, we all have nine Nodes-“

“And activating all nine allows you to ascend into godhood or something?”

She shot me an annoyed look. “What? Godhood?” She snorted. “Are you insane? No way, what the unwashed masses call ‘gods’ are another thing altogether! And don’t cut me off!” She grumbled. “You should know how hard it is to keep ideas on track after a certain age, right?”

I grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, bad habit.”

The witch nodded, even as her smoky human representation slowly lost shape, reverting back to normal, breathable lung cancer. “Good. Anyway, as I was trying to say,” She gave me a nasty look. “for most, Nodes are closed from birth, and they remain so for the rest of their lives. As the sages of old said, ‘While everyone can feel life filling their lungs, only a few privileged ones can truly Breathe.’. And what a privilege it truly is! Not only can some of the blessed cast spells, with enough dedication every one of them is able to forcibly open at least a handful of their Nodes! Before you ask, doing so makes you more. Better. Every Node opened increases your affinity with the Source, improving your mind and physique, and even your hold on Breath! In fact, the act of opening all nine allows a practitioner to fully commune with the Source, forever liberating the self from the shackles of time! Of course, ever getting close to that point is so rare that even seeing one of those mighty figures is said to bring good fortune...” She stopped for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh. “Sadly, let alone reaching those heights, most of us, mere mortals, cannot even hear its Call. Ah!”

Taking a couple of drags out of her pipe, she added. “Well, that only applies to us, of the Lower Tribes. I know for a fact that those belonging to the Higher ones, the likes of the Aes Sídhe, Elves, Djinns, among others, can progress unimpeded. Even dwarves...”

Grisella stopped talking, visibly lost in thought while idly staring at the smoke coming out of her pipe.

I appreciated the pause, there was a lot of information to parse through. Overall, her description did sound familiar, in many ways, which made me speculate whether there was any truth to it. Granted, I figured it might as well be that human minds just tend to intrinsically come up with similar crap everywhere. After all, pretty much every nation I’d been born in had come up with its own god of thunder, but Zeus, or one of its many equivalents, had yet to blast me to smithereens for my multiple blasphemies.

Also, I couldn’t help wondering if any of it was somehow related to my most recent discovery. Perhaps the so-called Source was secretly a gamer or something? I mean, who else would be dumb enough to give people a status sheet?

 

Name: Abramel

Tribe: Human

Allegiance: -

Alignment: -

Titles: -

Active Nodes:

-

Traits:

Astral Guidance

Skills:

Terribly Primitive Pneuma Manipulation

 

Trait: Astral Guidance

Subtler Realms are hard to access. A suitable reward is due for the suicidal fools who manage to scratch their surface.

Effect: Grants personalized access to non-restricted sections of Sophia Register, and a small probability of receiving Guidance.

 

Skill: Terribly Primitive* Pneuma Manipulation [Passive] (+)

“-Magic? Bah, no way dude!

-Have I ever lied to you? I swear on me mum my fart was shining!”

Vriya, 369 B.G.E.

Effect: Slightly enhances control over Pneuma and insignificantly reduces expenditure while casting. (+)

 

“So,” I started, after a few minutes of pregnant silence. “How do we go about opening these nodes?”

“That much is up to every practitioner.” She scoffed, giving me a mocking grin. “Or, at the very least, it’s not part of basic training.”

Well, damn.