“Our kin has united into one tribe, and we seek to trade with you,” Aria explained shortly.
“If it is our potions you seek, that can be arranged,” the Velthwyn leader replied, its cracked and rough lips curving faintly. “But tell me… was it for this alone that you wove such a spell?”
Aria hesitated for a moment, glancing briefly at Avenor before nodding. “No. I require a drop of nature’s essence.”
Avenor turned to her, confusion plain on his face. “A drop of what?”
“We do not trade it,” the Velthwyn replied, the words low and rasping. “You must have known this already. Else, you would not have willingly shortened your life.”
“You shortened your life? When?” Avenor burst out, disbelief in his voice.
“The formless magic,” Aria explained. “It draws on a mage’s lifeforce instead of their mind. That’s why only Elves used it… and the Velthwyn.”
“Why only them…” Avenor muttered, his brow furrowing before realization dawned. “Because Elves are immortal. Their lives can’t be shortened. How much did you sacrifice?”
“That is not for you to know,” Aria said, voice sharpening, though the irritation in her eyes faded as quickly as it came. “Not much. I may not be immortal like Elves or those who share their blood, but Velmoryns live long enough - more than a millennium, if we’re careful.”
“Poor children,” the Velthwyn leader murmured, shaking its head slowly. “Your lives are not long enough to forget the passing of time, yet not brief enough to cherish it.”
“Know this,” its golden eyes were fixed on Aria, voice low. “We granted you audience not for the price you paid, but for the sincerity with which you paid it.”
“So you’ll give her what she came for? The… erm… nature’s essence?” Avenor asked. “She sacrificed part of her life, isn’t that enough to earn an exception?”
“We asked for no such offering,” the Velthwyn replied. “Yet the burden falls upon us, as though we had demanded it.”
“No,” Aria said sharply, before Avenor could speak again. “I did not perform the spell to pressure you, nor to invoke guilt. The cost is mine alone. I merely wished to show the depth of my intent.”
Her eyes met Avenor’s, warning not to speak on her behalf, and then she turned back to the Velthwyn.
“I was also asked to inform you that our kin have united under our Lord, the God of Velmoryn. He will not only rule over us, but over the entire forest…”
“We are aware,” the leader said. “We have felt the forest shake with new breath. We have seen the tharuuns marked by your God and the change that followed. Yet if you come to claim our blood in His name, we must question your truth for none among you carry the scent of divine breath.”
Aria said nothing, her silence alone confirming that she had indeed tried to use my name to gain what she wanted.
“Let’s talk about the potions first,” Avenor said finally, realizing she had no intention of speaking. “Rather than just purchasing them, we’d prefer to learn how they’re made. Would that be possible?”
The leader fell quiet. It weighed the request carefully before giving a slow nod.
“Knowledge is meant to be shared,” it said at last. “We shall teach the children of darkness and light the art of brewing potions that do no harm. Yet,” its gaze drifted toward Avenor, voice lowering to a slow rumble. “We too would ask something in return… grant us passage to the Godly Tree within your burrow.”
Avenor blinked, caught off guard. Then the corner of his mouth twitched, a faint smirk betraying the thought already forming.
“In exchange for the…” he began, but Aria cut in before he could finish.
“We would need the council’s approval,” she said, ignoring the glare Avenor shot her. “But I believe no one would oppose. Still, the Divine Tree only obeys Father’s will, and it only listens to the Priestess. You should know, it can be dangerous to approach without bearing His mark.”
“No Velthwyn fears a tree, nor would one ever raise harm against it,” the leader said sharply, the sudden firmness in its voice strange compared to the earlier monotonous and rough tone. “Even should it be a Godly being.”
Aria nodded and got ready to press her original request again, to try one more time for the Velthwyn’s golden blood, but then my attention was drawn away as a blue notification appeared before me.
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[A Message]
Request for the Almighty God of Velmoryn:
I, the humble avatar of the God of Merchants, V, seek permission to enter Your Divine Kingdom. Should this time prove inconvenient, I shall withdraw and return when it better suits Your Highness’s will.