When I came home, I immediately buried myself in the translation notes of Lerach's book on floristics, herbology of the modern magical world, and didn't hesitate to apparate to buy agronomy books from the mundane world.
I understood that the nymph had deliberately given me such a task to extract maximum benefit from me. But why not do it in a way that would be useful to me as well?
Such a request reminded me that the world of magic doesn't end with the disciplines I had chosen, and I used it as stimulus and motivation. To master the collected literature faster, I had to use consciousness acceleration and trance for concentration from mind magic. I only stopped when I felt my head was about to explode from pain, cast healing on myself, and continued. And still, I finished only after two weeks of hard work.
I managed to deflect Ariel's questions with "interesting books," which I actually had in the form of adventure novels and fairy tales. She even liked that her son was getting pleasure from reading, which she had apparently been deprived of. And she didn't have time for me anyway — the exams she had been preparing for the last year were approaching, and she walked around like the same sleepwalker as I did.
A few more days went into planning what, exactly, I wanted to achieve.
…
First of all, what is a magical forest and why is it called that? Logically, it's a forest where magical plants and animals live. But how do they differ from ordinary ones? Precisely because many of them, to varying degrees, use, absorb, or have changed due to large amounts of free ether.
This raises the logical question: where does this ether come from and why is there more of it in magical forests? It's all about ley lines, or as they're also called, dragon veins. These are channels visible only with astral sight — the planet's main arteries through which simply colossal amounts of energy flow. One such line conducts more energy per second than I would produce in a year.
And so, in places where these lines are closest to the surface, the etheric background increases many times over simply due to background radiation. Now let's move to our forest — it's thirty kilometers long and about seventeen kilometers wide, stretched from west to east, and from above resembles an irregularly shaped oval. But the ley line almost reaches the surface only along two kilometers.
My idea is to place anchors along this entire stretch, directly connected to this main channel. The ritual is more tedious than complex, since Sumerian mages often used it to power their homes from these lines. If everything works out as I planned, they will draw out and disperse much more energy than enters the atmosphere in background mode.
I calculated that I would need about fifty such anchors, every forty meters from each other. There were no questions about material choice - obsidian. Not Frai, but you couldn't think of anything better, especially since in the ordinary world it's not just easy to buy, but very easy. The problem might arise with obtaining perfectly round stones without cracks, but it's also easily solved with money.
However, simply sticking anchors everywhere isn't enough. Animals and plants will most likely either die or mutate in unknown ways near them — dispersers and converters are needed.
And here we return to magical plants. Many of them are capable of absorbing, converting, and dispersing excess energy in the form of prana and mana more suitable for plants.
Again the question: which species to use? Conifers and shrubs are immediately ruled out — the former will process energy too slowly and gradually, while the latter are too small and weak. Large deciduous trees like oak, maple, or poplar would work well, but only if I wanted to help flora alone. No, the same acorns feed many animals, but there's something even better.
Fruit trees give most of their energy precisely to their fruits. That's exactly why their wood is almost never used for creating magic wands. But this suits me perfectly: they'll both disperse mana and provide food for the forest's inhabitants.
And here we come to the reason why I planned for so long. The tree must be powerful, grow quickly, while not depleting the soil with its growth. Just as a human begins with conception, so a tree is born from a seed.
In floristics there's such an interesting subdivision as selection magic, with which you can create an oak with apples or a fir tree with watermelons — that is, the ability to merge seeds and choose the necessary properties of the source materials.
I'm far from such a level, and here comes a ritual that itself combines seeds, gathering the best characteristics from two separate ones. But it's limited because it allows using seeds only from related species.
Without overthinking, I collected bags of seeds from ten apple varieties, three of which were magical. I selected them for productivity, taste qualities, resistance to parasites and negative conditions, as well as magical properties, after which I sequentially combined them.
The resulting product was planted in the long-suffering clearing, assigned a separate number, and various spells for growth acceleration and improvement of the plant's properties from both herbology and floristics were used on it. Various fertilizers were also applied.
The specimen under time acceleration charms from the corresponding school and with dragon dung fertilizer won by a large margin. Subsequently, I also selected a set of charms that don't conflict with each other and improve the tree's characteristics without harm to it.
This took another month, and summer arrived, while fifty smooth black obsidian spheres forty centimeters in diameter, with the necessary symbols and runes carved on them, were already in my expanded-space bags. The control group of a hundred seeds, with reserve, was fused not from 10 pieces, but from forty, which, as experiments showed, would give a better effect.
…
Then came the tedium: approach the marked point, dig a circular pit one meter deep and four in diameter, transfigure a ritual stone circle from the earth at its bottom, check the symbols created immediately, place the sphere in the central recess, fill the ritual with mana, and wait for the result. If everything went well, restore energy in meditation and move on. If not, repeat.
This took another two weeks, and I was really so exhausted that I leveled up my nous by about ten percent from such frequent depletion and filling of the reserve.
I thought it would be easier from there. Yeah, right. First, I conducted rituals to banish salt from the earth, leaving only fertile soil. Fortunately, the etheric background had increased and recovery became easier. Then I filled the pits with black earth mixed with dragon dung. With charms, this was more monotonous than difficult.
Next, I planted the seeds, on which I imposed a complex of charms. Every day I needed to go through all fifty, checking germination, renewing charms, and watering them. Only by the end of summer did I finish, when the saplings had grown strong and began absorbing sufficient amounts of mana themselves.
I applied certain charms from herbology, floristics, and time magic so often that I learned to apply them almost instantly, and wand-based ones no longer required a concentrator and words. But I regretted nothing — these almost six months gave me more than I had expected. Knowledge in several directions, experience, and strength.
Moreover, over time, the influence of my saplings will spread to the entire forest — including the veil coven. And what apples there will be! I don't even know what kind myself, because the trees constantly receive mana supplementation, which I couldn't provide in experiments.
***
I looked at how my fifty saplings were growing - ones I had created and raised with my own hands through great effort - and felt spiritual uplift.
Fireballs, flying brooms, animated jewelry boxes? No, here was real magic that would remain even when I die, if I don't become immortal, or leave this world.
"Admiring the fruits of your labors?" — I heard a melodious voice from the side and turned, seeing the nymph whom I hadn't noticed at all. She approached one of the apple trees and placed her palm on the bark, listening to something.
"You could have simply planted seeds and waited for them to sprout, my request would already have been fulfilled. Why did you come every day and care for them?"
"Because they're my creation? I put so much work and effort into them that it would have been sacrilege to simply abandon them to fate," — I answered after thinking a bit.
"Well, you fulfilled my request, and I will help you as promised," — with a wave of her hand, a bud formed on the branch, then a flower whose petals almost immediately fell, and a fruit began to form. In just a few seconds, a golden fruit formed, which she picked and began eating.
"Tasty apples turned out, not bad work, youth."
"Wait, what if I had done something trivial? As you say, planted saplings and that's it — would you still have helped me?"
I asked, swallowing saliva as I watched the disappearing apple, whose core fell to the ground and immediately sprouted.
"Of course, I keep my word. But can a mage who settles for little achieve greatness?"
It seems I was played.
"That's unlikely. Then, what should I do?" I asked after a brief silence.
«First, listen and hear. And if you understand, that would be wonderful. I'll begin with the fact that I received knowledge of yoga from one man... many winters ago, and therefore I myself don't understand some things because they're simply not needed by me due to the fact that I'm not human. But I will sense if you're doing something wrong and guide you.»
So, yoga is not aimed at strengthening the body — that's merely a consequence. The main goal of yoga is self-knowledge, knowledge of one's soul and the surrounding world to achieve enlightenment, exit from the cycle of reincarnation, and transition to the next level of being. However, in practice, very, very few reached such a level.
There are two types of meditation in yoga - external and internal.
The first, naturally, is directed at the surrounding world, and the second - at oneself.
Do you want to ask something?" — the nymph addressed me.
"Yes," — I confirmed, — "which meditation is more important?"
"I'll answer your question with a question: which half of your body is more important, right or left?" I understood — I'm not a fool. A fool wouldn't have understood.
"Sorry, I asked something stupid," I replied.
"Better to seem foolish and ask than remain silent and stay ignorant. Through others you know yourself, and through yourself — others. Using only one type, you'll achieve what you want, but using both, you'll achieve what you need.
I'll continue. Meditation must always be directed at something. At your body, soul, at a bird in the forest, or something more vague, like a thought or idea. Also, you must clearly imagine what you want to achieve through meditation.
I'll take your example — you were probably disappointed by your small success, but you can't be blamed for this. You certainly don't lack persistence. You simply didn't understand what exactly you wanted to achieve. Abstract 'strength' of the physical body, without understanding your body, what specifically you want to strengthen and by how much — and this led you to the situation of a wandering blind man in darkness.
You already know internal meditation, and after my hint you'll be able to find your path. But I'll teach you external meditation today," she beckoned me with her finger to my apple tree.
"Try to feel yourself as a tree. Since you grew it yourself, you won't find a better conductor."
"Alright," — I replied and sat in lotus position, leaning against the tree. I felt the rough bark against my back and a large amount of ether passing through my body.
"External meditation doesn't concentrate on internal feelings — on the contrary, they interfere, and you must cut them off. When you succeed, you must imagine this tree in your thoughts, concentrate on this image, become it."
I listened to the nymph's voice until it disappeared. I felt nothing, as if I had died again. Then I remembered the words of guidance and imagined the apple tree in my head. Since my memory approached absolute and I cared for it every day, I imagined it thoroughly, down to the very last leaf.
How long I sat like that, I don't know, because at one moment someone seemed to flip a switch, and I became the tree. I "saw" not with eyes but with aura, felt with bark, and leaves determined where it was warm and sunny. Pleasant water with food dissolved in it rose through my roots. Somewhere in their center, the roots held a sphere that in perception was very hot, but at the same time carried pleasant energy that filled my body.
And my creator leaned against the trunk — the one who grew me from a seed and toward whom the branches themselves reached in an attempt to thank him, but I was still too weak. And next to the creator was the forest's mistress herself, before whom everyone in the forest bows...
My thoughts became vague after that, and I was torn from this vision.
"Not bad for the first time, but it was dangerous. You almost became a tree yourself and lost yourself in it irretrievably. Next time I might not be here, and you must learn to exit meditation yourself."
I came to lying on my back, my lungs burning from lack of oxygen, and I couldn't catch my breath. When I came to my senses and wanted to try again, she said:
"When you entered meditation, I felt that your soul is contaminated," she said thoughtfully.
"How so?" — I didn't understand.
"Suppressed feelings, hidden vices, guilt, shame, lies — all this lies as a burden on the soul and hinders development. Before continuing, you must rid yourself of them."
"And how do I do that?"
"Find it, find the burden that lies on your soul and wash it away, let it go. Every rational being has such a burden, and with age it only becomes heavier and more difficult to remove. This time, I'll help you."
I sat in lotus position again and concentrated on my soul. I felt nothing until a gentle female hand lay on my solar plexus and everything darkened again.
…
"Dad everything's fine, I'm just on academic leave," — the scene of my conversation with my father appeared before me. I'm nineteen, expelled from university for absences and failing exams due to drinking and partying. I'm lying to my father that everything's fine.
" I'll return in a year and continue, I need to understand myself and what I want."
"Of course son," — he began coughing, strongly and with strain, but I pay no attention to it. I didn't even think then that he had lung cancer.
He looked at me with warmth and love. — " I believe you."
Now I understand that father knew everything but said nothing to me. He didn't want to quarrel with me before his death, wanted me to be happy. Perhaps if I hadn't been such a stupid ass then, I would have noticed this. That same year he died, and everything was cut off for me.
I became incredibly ashamed and felt unworthy of his trust. While he suffered, I drank, smoked all sorts of drugs, and picked up girls at questionable parties. It was precisely after this event that I got my act together and began studying like mad.
The shame for not justifying his trust, for my lies and for never saying goodbye to him, was still somewhere deep in my heart. But now I understand that my father would be proud of me - everything I achieved in my past life is what he wanted for me. For me to find myself in this life and be happy.
My soul felt lighter, and the picture changed sharply.
…
"Miranda, I love you, will you be my girlfriend?"
I'm fourteen and in love for the first time. Of course, she was the first beauty of the class, and half the boys not only from our class but from the entire grade were in love with her. Only I was such a fool to think of confessing to her, and publicly at that.
"Have you seen yourself? A boy with an unpronounceable name. Get lost and don't embarrass me, idiot."
Yes, she was quite the bitch. She was more attracted to rich older men than her peers, which is why she considered herself the center of the universe. As I later learned, after school she eventually got pregnant by some guy who told her a pack of lies and became a single mother.
When I found out about this, I gloated. After all, because of her I became the school's laughingstock. But growing up, I realized that I was no less to blame myself for even approaching her. After all, only a completely stupid person, which I was, couldn't have predicted her reaction.
There's no point in holding childhood grudges, much less rejoicing in others' misfortune. The picture changed again, and I saw...
…
...Ariel. This wasn't a memory, rather my fear and guilt. She accused me of deceiving her, using her, and forcing her to give birth to myself. Of conducting untested rituals on her without saying anything. Of deceiving her all these years, pretending to be her son.
I thought I had redeemed my guilt to myself, but no — it had simply hidden. I simply approached and hugged this image, and it melted away. I realized that I couldn't free myself from this burden so simply until I received redemption from Ariel herself.
But precisely this burden prevents me from sliding into darkness, from beginning to use all the people around me to achieve my goals. This burden doesn't drag me down but reminds me to seek other solutions and become better.
If I confess, only I will feel better, and this will only complicate my relationship with Ariel, who won't know how to relate to me. I know she won't abandon me. But I won't lighten her burden — I'll only make it heavier. This is the moment when a lie is better than truth.
I accepted this burden. The setting changed for the last time.
…
A huge protuberance of black energy approached me with unthinkable speed, like an inevitable natural disaster. I knew this was my fear of Gaunt. It was literally welded into me.
"So I found you, muggle. Now you will experience incredible torments, and when you die, I will seal your soul and continue torturing it for hundreds of years!"
I had thought about this for a long time. My constant training was connected to him, to the fear that Gaunt would find me and kill me. This time forever. I knew that he had deceived me first, that he was dark with a rotten and torn soul. Moreover, I had destroyed what he considered a priceless tome, and he would never let me live for it.
How many times I woke from terrible dreams in horror and cold sweat. But now... I'm grateful to him. He brought me the book that made me a mage. He gave me the stimulus for development that I could never have maintained for so long myself.
Fear shouldn't interfere with thinking — fear is needed for motivation to survive, to engage all resources. My fear helped me survive. The image disappeared.
***
I woke up closer to evening, alone. The nymph wasn't beside me, and no matter how I called her, she didn't come. I understood — she had fulfilled her promise and owed me nothing more.
Getting up, I apparated closer to the village and trudged home.
***
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