Chương 4: Fórsa

"This world is like… a parasite." Miriam raised her eyebrows. She sat on her cot, listening intently, like the good student she had always been. Eoin grinned.

"Not very flattering is it? But it's true. Fórsa is… vital essence, the stuff of life itself. It only comes from one place."

"The ocean?" She thought of that invisible tug out to the horizon over the sea she'd felt earlier.

"No. Your world, which we call the Realms Above. We call our world the Tír. From little vents in reality, the fórsa of your world drains out into ours. Humans and Realms Above animals and all the fish and trees of your world are all made from real solid matter, bonded together by who knows what. But here, we are made entirely from life essence. It's why some of us can change our appearance at will. Or why an 'old' woman like yourself can be completely rebuilt - it's just rearranging fórsa."

Eoin gestured and the image of a mountain appeared floating in mid-air.

"Following me so far?"

"Following, yes. Believing is coming slower."

"We'll get there," Eoin laughed.

"Well, that's what our friend Solas is after. Life essence. We use it to make ourselves stronger. Most of us use the fórsa that's flowing around us to do so, with years of rigorous training. Solas, unfortunately, can't do that anymore."

"Why can't he?" Miriam tried not to be too dazzled by the light drawing of the mountain floating in front of her. It was like a sculpture made of blue glass. Effortlessly beautiful and further proof that this wasn't - couldn't ever be - the world in which she had been born.

"Solas is what we call a Wisp. Or, a Will-O'-the-Wisp, if you want to be mean about it. His kind are born here on the outer ring. They live closest to the edges of the world, where the vents touch. Such as the cave I assume you came through. Unfortunately for them, that means their capacity for fórsa is the weakest it can be. Solas has absorbed as much ambient fórsa as he can. He can get no stronger by any… natural means." Eoin's mouth tightened into a line.

"But… he's closer to the source of fórsa. Why doesn't that make him more powerful?"

"Ah! Good question! Such a bright student you are! Ask yourself: does silt settle at the top of a lake, or at the bottom? Such is true for fórsa. Whatever natural mechanism is pulling the fórsa into the Tír, it's located at the center ring. Deeper into the world." An arrow descended from the floating mountain image, breaking its way through multiple concentric circles as it descended downward, slowing as it moved. Eoin continued.

"Fórsa just flits on by here and concentrates in the tenth ring. It's also why no one from the outer rings can survive in the inner ones without getting significantly stronger first - the pressure of the fórsa in each will overwhelm them."

"So Solas wants to travel to the inner rings, but he can't get strong enough to do so? That's why he's planning on… juicing me for my fórsa?" Miriam couldn't help but shudder at the thought.

"Exactly. He always was an ambitious little shit and it killed him when he plateaued." Eoin's floating image vanished and he leaned on a table.

"This is all partly my fault I'm afraid."

"Your fault?"

"Yes. I was a young researcher then, and foolish. Well - foolish in different ways than I am foolish now. I wanted to believe the Wisps might not be the scoundrels the tales made them out to be. The Inner Rings are not well-known for their tolerance of the Lesser Sidhe, and rumors had a way of being exaggerated." Eoin picked up a gear and began absentmindedly cleaning it with a dirty rag.

"I wanted to study the vents. I had a theory about fórsa transference that was ultimately disproven, but never mind that. I was determined to see them for myself. So I made the journey here and met with Solas."

"You did?" Miriam asked darkly.

"I didn't know what he was going to do," Eoin said defensively.

"I thought him another student of the natural world, like myself. He allowed me access to the vent nearby. I didn't know he was building that." He pointed upward.

"The lighthouse crystal?"

"Yes, but it's not a lighthouse. Way too short for that, and not really needed here in the Tír. Sailors here have… other ways of finding their way around the ocean. Anyway. Story for another time. The Amethyst Reel is just what it says it is. It's like a fishing pole that pulls ambient fórsa into it. That fórsa is then concentrated and can be sent into the vents." Eoin mimicked casting a fishing line. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

He sighed, dropping his hands.

"The problem was that our theory on fórsa transference was wrong. I think the Reel was supposed to act as a conduit by drawing concentrated fórsa into a singular battery of sorts. Rather than standing in a raincloud of fórsa, the user of the Reel would have a simple funnel through which he could direct its concentrated flow. Instead, what he had was a lure." Miriam gaped.

"He used the Reel to pull me through the vent?" Eoin nodded.

"I'm afraid so. It finds the nearest concentration of fórsa in the Realms Above and creates a link." Miriam nodded.

"So Solas will be able to get stronger by stealing my fórsa somehow?"

"He seems to think so. I never saw this when he and I were working together, but my guess is that he has adapted some of the Reel's enchantments into a machine that will allow him to absorb concentrated fórsa past his natural limits from entities with already processed forsa. People." Eoin tossed the gear back down on the table.

"What a loathsome creature."

"So you can teach me how to break out of here?" Eoin shrugged apologetically.

"Eventually, yes. But we have to start with the basics. Unfortunately I can't get you to the level of skill you'll need to escape before he visits you tomorrow with his little machine. However, I can make it much harder for him to get anything out of you. Slow the drain, so to speak, to give you time to break free." Miriam sighed.

"I suppose that will have to do. I don't have any other options I can see."" Fantastic!" Eoin hopped lightly, snapping back to his performative, cheerful demeanor.

"This is going to be so interesting! Manipulating fórsa is all about the mind. Remember, it's all life energy - you don't need the same tactics to move it the same way you would move matter back in the Realms Above. So what I'm going to teach you is all about honing that tool." Miriam breathed deeply.

"I'm ready."

"Absorbing fórsa is easy - everyone does it all the time, instinctively. Like breathing. But rebuilding your body and your spirit with it takes work. And, there are very distinct paths you have to choose to take to do that, which are limited by the environment you're in. You couldn't assimilate water fórsa in a desert. Which means it's unfortunate that you're just starting to do it here, in the Amberline Channels." Miriam smiled.

"You mean the Golden Swamp."

"Your words, not mine! We High Sidhe get in trouble if we use such hurtful terminology about the so-called 'Lesser Rings'." Eoin gestured and four symbols floated up in the air.

"Because of how thin the fórsa density is here, you have limited choices." He pointed to the first symbol, a rather obvious three wavy lines.

"Water. You can draw fórsa through your body in the water shape. It's a good one, fundamental and flexible. It doesn't prevent you from many other branches as you advance. A lot of people start with this one, myself included." The next symbol was an outline of a leaf.

"Nature. Or, more specifically, Life. This one is very common among your people - the dryads. Tree spirits. It's powerful early on, but few dryads make it past the fourth ring with it. The number of ways it limits further advancement are too strict for most people to overcome." The third symbol seemed the same as the nature one had, but it was inverted - the leaf was a cutout from a dark box around it.

"Blight. The odious flip side of life. The swamp is thick with it, death and rot and decay. Not a lot of people choose this one, and not a lot of people care to associate with those who do."

"Understandable," Miriam said. The idea of someone who would embrace decay into their very spirit was abhorrent.

"Lastly, Mind." This symbol was a single plain circle flanked by two half-circles.

"This is technically a subset of the Life path, but it's distinct enough that you have to train it very differently. This is the focus that our little friend Solas is an expert in, if that makes sense."

"It does." Miriam touched the wire bracelet on her wrist.

"I was barely able to talk when he had this thing activated."

"It's impressive you were able to talk at all, honestly. Solas is an ugly little gremlin, but he's unmatched in this Ring for his mind manipulation." Eoin gestured at the symbols again.

"So. Any of these striking a chord with you?" Miriam looked over each again, then shook her head.

"I don't know enough about this to choose. Which of these will help me get free?"

"Any of them presents certain opportunities for escape. With Life, you could summon roots from the ground to break through the floor, disrupting the ward he's placed on you. With Blight you could poison Solas in his sleep, even from down here, which would likely break the ward too. Water would allow you to re-weave the ward to your liking, though if I'm being honest it might take longer. The riskiest path is probably Mind - you'd be counting on being able to outdo him in the area of his strength.

It's possible, but he might kill you before you get there," Eoin admitted.

"But honestly, it's best to go with your gut instinct. Your soul knows what touches it best. Does anything jump out at you?" Miriam regarded the symbols again and closed her eyes.

"Not Blight," she said firmly.

"And not Mind. I was never much of a persuader."

"Good. Two left then." She shook her head.

"Both Water and Nature feel… good to me. I used to spend so much time staring at the water of my well that I find it calming. But I also grew up in a house surrounded by nature, engulfed by a massive willow tree. I see that symbol and it feels like home." Eoin smiled again.

"That makes sense! What else would a woman who grew up inside of a tree be, if not a dryad? But you do need to pick one to start. If you go to the next Ring you can choose a specialization, along with other, new choices that aren't available here."

"Water is where you started? You should be best at teaching that, right?" Eoin bowed.

"Wise as ever, my lady. The essence of water is movement. Please, stand up and follow my lead." Miriam did as he asked while he lowered his body slightly, widening his stance. He stretched one arm out, as if reaching, while pulling the other in, as if cradling something. He nodded to her and she attempted to match him. Once she was close enough he began to move.