[Hlaeth] Ch 14 - Legus and Elders
Added 2025-03-29 05:13:37 +0000 UTC« Chapter 13 | Index | Chapter 15 »
“That is a great secret of the Elven Court!” Commander Tellusian immediately said gravely. “I cannot reveal to you such a magic…”
“The magic is called Weave Legus,” Wurdtrue immediately stated, to the shock of his rider. “You may find it similar to minor effects that allow you to attune to an area of more basic Wards of lesser magic. The Legus magic of the elves is old and mighty, and not something that humans mastered, even at the height of their magic.
“The spell works thusly.” And then he said a Word.
It was true draconic, the language which formed the basis for arcane magic in general and sorcery in particular, and from which wizardry was derived and reduced. Patterns of magic, Seals and formations, formed instantly at the Word being formed, flows of magic and power designed to interweave seamlessly with protective fields and harmonize with them, allowing someone to Cast inside such a place without interference or restrictions, exactly as if they were bonded or attuned to it to do so.
I impressed the spell into Magnus with his Spell Knowledge function, than instantly Wrote it to the Ring and my inner Wall of Spells, while four thoughtstreams pounced on it and began to parse it almost instantly.
It was only a IV, which meant not that complex, but it was very precise in application, specifically made for a type of magical field that I’d never been exposed to in the past, and maaaaaybe it could be configured to other such types of fields with some tweaking and a lot of practice.
That said, the complexities of it weren’t that hard to understand, and the fact that it was displayed to me as a Draconic Word instead of Wizardry or some other form made getting to the direct essence of it much easier for a Theurge like me. Draconic magic tended to be intrinsically Theurgic, after all, so this was catering to my specialty.
I nodded once. “I have it, and will so employ it to maintain my independence. I will once again reaffirm that I have no designs upon your kingdom or people, Commander Tellusian, and they are in no danger from me unless they choose to make themselves dangerous to me. That is Truth.”
He only gasped a tiny bit, but the true force of the Word was reduced, and it could only ring in his head with the absolute assurance that I had not lied.
My word was basically better than an oath of safe conduct.
“That is not to say that knowledge of such magic could not be used against us in the future!” he stated with a grimace, knowing the circumstances would have to be very bad on their side for me personally to ever do such a thing.
“That is utterly true. Let us endeavor to make sure those circumstances do not easily come to pass.”
He could only sigh, as the spell had already been passed on, and I obviously understood it and its capabilities already.
“With that said, I would prefer to avoid any huge faux pas if possible. I’m sure there’s at least a basic precedent for visiting dignitaries, barbarians though we be, and if it wouldn’t discomfit the Commander, I would learn the name and faces of the important people of the Court, that I would not insert my foot into my mouth at an inappropriate moment.”
He paused to think over that, and realized it was actually a pretty reasonable request, little more than introductions ahead of time. “Very well. The most important people to know are of course the Royal Family…”
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I had to admit it was a magnificent sight, a fairy-tale elven kingdom out of the stories coming into view and demanding to be appreciated as the living art that it was.
Lots of delicately sculpted primarily-white stone buildings of fantastic design, somehow both competing with one another and meshing into a greater whole without detracting from one another. Lots of towering magical Trees and gardens of various sorts, vigorous and full of life and energy, flowers in bloom of kinds we didn’t have back on Earth, the layout and growth of them a multi-level artistry all of its own.
And Magical. Oh, so magical.
The glamours alone on some of those gardens and growths and buildings could ensnare a mind and soul and render those who saw them helpless if activated. Any flaws or discrepancies in the work, or temporary inadequacies, were glossed over seamlessly, blending everything together. Layered spells wove into one another, obfuscating what was going on, and turning the whole thing into a maddeningly complex weave of living magic wrought from spells and the life of the forest woven through the entire city.
An elven Legus, a massive living Ward of magic at the Eternal level that encompassed the entire city and its environs, working with the lesser magicks within itself to buttress itself and them off of it, and, I was pretty sure, subtly established dominance over them, which I was sure some of the more powerful individuals therein would not be pleased to find out.
I didn’t know how much intrigue and courtly stuff was going on here, but bored elves weren’t much different from the Fey, and the Fey loved themselves courtly warfare and the like. I expected infighting and jockeying for position under a ruler who could hold a throne for literally millennia was the rule of the day, as the only way to advance was to bring down the person above you. They’d never die of old age or retire from inability to do the job or fatigue, at least in any reasonable time like humans did.
It was a problem we were going to have to face in the future, and which I was already addressing back home. Scotty was being prodded into being the face of the Allegiance, and was also aiming to raise up his own successor from the kids of the newest generation. All my Nobles had heirs they were training, just in case, and plans for true successors of the next generation to take over for them.
Positions of power and control were things the ambitious strove for, and that wasn’t a bad thing on its own. It did require that those positions be vacated regularly to provide openings, however.
It was also why new Allegiances would be made, new territories claimed, and new people rise to power that way. The young needed the room to grow, and us old sots hanging with bony claws onto the reins and trappings of power needed to move on to other things in time.
This timeless beauty ahead of me, like a fine spring moment caught in amber, fired off my alarm bells as we glided in.
I had Slotted the Weave Legus spell and Cast it now, before the living Ward reached out to encompass me.
Elves and dragons were watching as threads of magic reached out, met the incoming Ward, and established their own minor protocols. Specifically, the strictures which forbid non-elves from Casting easily within its confines were cleared away and canceled out, leaving me free to spellcast in the heart of the kingdom of the elves, and not reduced to a barbaric human holding onto a stick in the center of the elves’ magical might.
I followed the dragons in atop Feature, just behind the bronzed dragon bearing Captain Fyanyl, the sylvan elfin also enjoying the beautiful view from the air. The city might have been gardened, but the natural beauty was still extraordinary, streams and lakes and ponds glittering like silver pearls amid the gems of blooming plants, and the artful stones of the buildings rising as bastions of unchanging beauty among them.
The Royal Palace naturally had the tallest spires, the finest gardens, the most glorious trees, the most artistic facades, and the most gloriously complex, interwoven, and subtly misleading interlay of magic I’d ever seen. I wouldn’t say it was beyond the things the Archmage had done in terms of power, far from it actually, but in terms of needlessly elegant glamours and confusing shows of strength, it was definitely a winner.
I had six thoughtstreams now engaged in nothing but analysis of the Legus right now, enjoying themselves as they perceived it from multiple Theurgic angles and levels of perception. Amusingly enough, the enhanced spirituality of my ki was actually remarkably good at cutting through the magical obfuscation and glamour of the Fey-like magic here, resolving what was true and what was not. I was getting a master’s course in Wardcraft just studying all the different dweomers bound up and through the thing.
LOTS of minor effects in the bloody thing. Coy and cute little surprises slipped in to create advantage for the person or family doing so...
We swept down towards an open plaza of flawless white pebbles in a tree-shrouded garden to the side of the eastern wing of the Palace proper. A half-dozen figures who were not elves were waiting there in fine robes for us to arrive, while gold and silver-armored elves waited at attention with blind devotion for a ceremonial duty, doubtless enjoying their role as being part of the grand artwork that was on display.
It was a pebble garden, not flagstones, the reason being quite obvious as draconic claws bit into the pebbles and tore up furrows and troughs and made holes in the manicured elegance… things that could be corrected and smoothed out with basically a handwave.
Feature needed do no such thing of course, gliding elegantly into position and just hovering there above the ground as he brought his wings in, serpentine body undulating slowly.
I waited calmly for Commander Tellusian to dismount from Wurdtrue, the other riders doing the same from their dragons. The six not-elves, gleaming metallic scales and vestigial horns accenting slitted eyes the hues of their descendants, which no proper elf should bear, indicated that these were simply the chosen humanoid forms of the elder dragons alerted to our coming, a convenience for all so that they knew what they were dealing with.
They certainly didn’t have to look draconic at all, but their power and beauty was also clearly on display.
With Words, the younger Dragons themselves reverted to humanoid forms: strong, graceful, and quite attractive, ornate robes appearing about them in the swirl of magic with stitchings and symbolism that indicated ancestry, clan, interests, magical aptitude, and deeds and recognition in subtle and informative manners, if you knew how to interpret them and think in Draconic.
It was not a problem with me.
I waited patiently as they conferred, having plenty to occupy myself with the fascinating complexity of the Legus I was slowly unraveling some of the factors of, particularly the lesser Wards underneath it. I couldn’t properly discern the Eternal aspects of its magic, but amusingly enough, the subtlety with which they had woven the thing meant it didn’t have the pure power to deny Divinations at the level I could wield them at. They aimed for masking and confusion for efficiency, when straight-up power would have stopped at least some of what I was doing.
Then the whole thing seemed to shimmer for an instant, and I watched the weave of the magic distort and turn its attention on me, sensing something new that was brash enough to be staring at it.
Ho, there are intelligences and souls bound into the Legus, I thought, unconcerned with the return scrutiny sweeping over me and trying to learn something. Astral Ward at VIII+1 was going to deny anything under XI trying to take a look at me, and I didn’t sense this Legus working at that level.
I was definitely a focus of its attention, and it began to pluck at itself and shift around, as if trying to confuse me and complicate the study of its own structure… or entrap me if I continued.
I laughed to myself and stopped the active delving, but my passives were still very much in force, and I wasn’t going to stop just sitting back and watching what was going on very, very keenly indeed.
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