The little wisp had effectively been left in charge of the group; it was a sizeable responsibility, but nothing she couldn’t handle. If anything, she was worried about the tendency of humans to wander off. As a will-o-wisp, she was all too familiar with their exceptional talent for losing the path that’s right in front of them, both literally and figuratively. She was grateful for Zephyr’s presence, if only for his ability to act as a corral.
The golem had been an interesting addition, a foolhardy inverted spirit that had blamed her Magis for his own reckless choices. She’d been quick to disabuse him of that notion, playing into his pride as a greater spirit. You see, wisps cannot stand seeing others go astray, especially by their own mistakes. It’s possible the wind spirit had only agreed to get her to cease her lectures, but she was sure he would understand eventually.
Besides, their temporarily-shared partner wasn’t so bad. The Magis had fought and negotiated fairly with her kin, never demanding that any of them form the contract despite having a right to. As far as she was concerned, her contractor’s worst quality was a penchant for getting lost even when the area wasn’t convoluted enough to require a wisp’s skills. It’s fortunate that her Magis has her around to guide the way, or who knows where the poor thing would be; probably stuck in a corner somewhere, endlessly turning in circles.
She was less certain about these new people.
They felt strange to the senses of her wisp-fire. Her Magis had explained across their bond that they were technically dragon-kin but were so far removed from their ancestors that they only carried the barest hints of their heritage now. Their hair and eyes, for example, often follow the coloration of dragons taking on fiery or earthy hues, and in naming traditions as well. Effectively, they were human, but there was just enough blood from those hulking lizards left in them to make them feel off to anyone with a keen magic sense.
Even so, she was charged with chaperoning them, and she would fulfill her role to the best of her abilities. So far it had proven easier than minding the younger wisps in her grove; they were always rushing off the second anyone felt remotely confused about where they were or where they were going, being too eager to help would only cause humans to be overly reliant on the guidance of the wisps. Humans, and even other spirits and fae, had to be allowed time to figure things out for themselves first.
All in all, she would say things are going well. Her charges were just talking peacefully amongst themselves and speculating about her Magis partner. For her part, she sat high on Zephyr’s back to watch over the whole area, and for his part Zephyr appeared disinterested but maintained his awareness of any threats in the immediate surroundings. She could tell because of the wind currents that he was steadily breathing in and out, despite the act being unnecessary; he was searching for traces of danger or trouble.
She patted his head, conveying her happiness and gratitude. Zephyr grumbled at her, wiggling his earthen scales, but neglected to tell her to stop.
The little wisp wonders if her partner’s misfortune has rubbed off on her.
It may be true that nowhere is completely safe, but isn’t this a bit ridiculous? How could such a thing be here of all places?
The sand-flower is a giant worm indigenous to desserts and beaches. Their massive fleshy bodies are not fond of foliage-dense or rocky environments, the likes of which tend to boarder forests. At least, that’s what one of the humans had said was in a book they’d read.
Normally, they live as rather lethargic ambush predators, burying most of their body underground and extending two massive concentric rings of tentacles out into the sky to trap wayward birds, insects, or anything foolish enough to touch one of its false branches. Although they behave as if they are carnivorous trees, the variety of their coloration and their overall shape from a distance is reminiscent of a flower, leading the travelers that first saw them to call them as such.
However, the little wisp was beginning to feel like that description was overly charitable and flattering towards the creature. The writhing pale mass had too many legs and all of them looked too scrawny to contribute anything to the globby creature’s locomotion. And yet, it had squirmed its way up through a hole nearby that had been just out of sight, only to be noticed far too late. Perhaps, in its native environment it wouldn’t be such a big deal for the worm to wake up and open, but evidently it did not appreciate its current location very much.
It stretched up from the ground in a relatively quiet manner, delicately unfurling its tentacles which happened to be a bright pink haloed in a larger outer ring of pearl pink. It seemed like it could easily swallow a horse. If it had stayed in place everything would be fine, but it didn’t seem content to sit still. Instead, as if it had sensed them, despite having no obvious means too beyond touch, it began to thrash at them.
It whipped its many arms wildly, flailing aggressively. To be hit by any of them would be a death sentence; each contained several hundred tiny harpoons laced with venom, waiting for something or someone to get too close. The dozen or so that had already fired on their own now hung down as vicious barbed ornaments, dripping venom like drool.
Zephyr had struck out in an instant, winding his clay serpentine body around the sand-flower and wrestling it to the ground. He was impervious to the poison, given that he was a spirit in a golem body physical toxins could never impact him. However, he was not impervious to the damage that comes with smashing into boulders, trees, and roots. He wouldn’t last forever.
Unfortunately, there was relatively little the wisp could do to help in a non-magical fight. Perhaps if it were dark she could have offered some illumination, or reasoned with it if it were another spirit, but this was a beast of pure flesh and blood; she couldn’t even use magic freely, as the scale of what she could do without her Magis to power her was too small. She wasn’t even sure if she could serve as a distraction, rather, Zephyr was already doing that and more.
But she had experienced many things since leaving the grove.
The indignity of being shoved in a cage. The fear of nothingness, of stillness, of a fundamental loss. Loneliness. The fear of oneself. Desperation. Helplessness.
And also-
And also, cities, and markets, and endless fields. Closeness. Worry. Adventure. The world. Dreams beyond any life she would have lived for herself within the cradle of those trees. Power. Magic she would never be capable of alone. And trust. A different kind than she was accustomed to.
Yes. Her Magis had trusted her with this. She would not let her down.
The little wisp watched her partner. She had been even since before they formed a contract. And she had learned.
Her Magis favored refinement over pure overwhelming force. To be strong when you are lacking strength. To be more than you are by stretching every millimeter of yourself further than you think you can go.
An ordinary person might not be able to copy such a thing just by observing, but she was no mere person. She is a wisp. Her partner’s wisp.
So the will-o-wisp, a spirit that can fit in your hands with room to spare, charged forward in the chaos and drove the tip of her staff into the soft flesh of the sand-flower, reaching deep into the creature with what magic she had. She remembered what her Magis had said about why the boy-child in Teleost was sick. About the nature of living beings and physical forms. She sent her threads barreling carelessly through the worm as it shuddered in agony, driving them towards its meager core.
Although she had never done such a thing before, she found it was all too easy to destroy the core of a being with no magic defenses. Unable to properly conduct the magic around it, it began to fight harder, perhaps feeling its own impending death. She only had to damage it in a few places before the stronger northern leylines were helping her rip off chunks and carry them away.
Regrettably, the size disparity was a bit much for her first time slaying a panicked beast.
One of its many legs came down on her mindlessly, smacking her away and disrupting her attack. She was thrown back, and fully expected to take a harsh tumble across the ground but was snagged from the air by one of the not-dragons. It was the biggest and loudest one; he set her down gently and told her she had been very brave and fought well.
“We’ll take it from here, lil guy” Torin reassured her as she sat winded from having her magic snapped suddenly.
The only true weapon amongst the humans was the tingly black blade that the red-haired man had; the rest had improvised with rocks and sticks. They worked together to pin down tentacles and cut them without touching the sand-flower, hacking their way forward while Torin and Eris defended them from any stray appendages. It helped that the creature was weaker, that it was distracted by the pain of its core unraveling.
She had helped.
So, when the humans finally reached the main trunk of the worm and severed its head, it was her victory too.
She was no longer just a simple or common wisp, the likes of which could be called weak. She was no longer something to overlook, someone to overlook. She was a mighty conqueror, a slayer of beasts, a protector of others, a contracted spirit, and she was strong.
She won, and no one could ever take that from her.
…
“Woah, well that definitely wasn’t here before. What did I miss?” Her Magis had returned. The little wisp smiled, her wisp-fire smaller than it’d ever been, but so much brighter.
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