PRL Serials

Lorv is in the Shifting Planes with the Vodun Lêgba, and Catastrophe, Havoc, and Grief of the Death Witch Coven, and they all stand on a platform around the vase of eight purple Mysticisms. Lorv stares at them and just the sight sends her back into her memory when she and Wielar piloted her planet-sized ship, Top, and they discovered the planet Rycoia in what the ship had detected as a massive nebula. The view of the nebula was beautiful from a distance and it seemed that everyone on Top stopped to watch the live footage of the violet colored scene of hazy space that showed on the interior of the outshell of the ship. After approaching it for many daylight cycles on Top, the ship discovered that it wasn’t a nebula at all and Lorv decided to explore the region closely because there was no fear of the harsh conditions that characterize a nebula that might harm the outshell of Top. 

They discovered that the source of the hazy, cloudy space was the planet Rycoia and as they approached it, Lorv began to sense arcana, the likes of which reminded her of the Fonlands. The Rycoians were very welcoming, and they treated Lorv with such reverence that she was eventually exalted as an honored guest of Rycoia who was always welcome on the planet. She had very good times on the planet and over subsequent visits, she learned more as she opened up trade between the planet and others in the Aerphim empire. She was most pleased at the enthusiasm with which the wider universe consumed Rycoian entertainment, she had become engrossed in their serials and enjoyed talking about the dramatic twists and turns with others she encountered on her travels, and it meant that she never missed episodes of her favorites no matter where in the universe she was. 

The first time she had seen the mysticisms that grow wild on the planet, she thought they were transplants from the Disc of Age because they glowed like Essence producing vegetation and were noticeably more beautiful that other flora that grew. One of the Mystics of Fytor had explained to her that the flower was produced by the planet as a gift to Rycoians as a symbol of the end of the trauma endured by the eight to contain the evil that tried to dominate the peoples of Rycoia. Many tried to hide the truth that the first eight Mysticisms contained the evil Ajogun, and the mystics reproduced them in the wild so that the legend of the eight containing the great could be forgotten. 

Staring at them now, all of this history comes back to her in waves and she is only half listening to the conversation, but she pushes it away because this is important business and not an occasion for losing oneself in memory. 

“It is not possible for you to simply free the Ajogun,” Lêgba was saying. 

“If that were possible,” Lorv said to the Death Witches, “the Ajogun are smart enough to have figured a way out by now. The spell on them is a spell of the Mysticisms themselves and they are better jailers than any of us realize. The spells of Rycoia are based on magic of the Fonlands. These Mysticisms are Fonlanders but born of the other realm, and they have had a very long time to perfect containing the Ajogun. The Mystic Orgeran of Fytor only wielded the power they excuse because he was chosen to by the Mysticism. All we can do is hope that they favor Lebga, or any of us, to endow us with the power to wield it against our enemy. If you want to convince the Mysticisms to release the Ajogun, you can try, but that will be easier if they chose you to wield their power.”

“They are flowers,’ Havoc says with disdain. “We can just destry them and what they contain will be released.”

“Destroy the jail, destroy the prisoners inside,” Lorv says soberly. “Try to force the Mysticisms to do anything and they will kill the prisoners first. They were tasked with never releasing their prisoners. If you try to disturb that with force, they will either defend themselves, or assess the situation as a loss and just kill their prisoners before they expire. THey have the upperhand on you all if you want to free the Ajogun. Make nice or you’ll never get what you want.”

Grief was the first of them all to approach the Mysticisms and she surrounded herself in her violet aspect that was a shade darker than the flowers. They all watched silently as Grief knelt and she clasped her hands in front of her.

“Beautiful Mysticisms, daughters of the Fonlands in a different realm,” Grief said humbly to the flowers in the vase. “I beg you to release the Ajogun if you can. Arun is one of them and he was my teacher, he gave me what I needed to be strong among my sisters who were very powerful. And beyond that, our home is under attack and I know that they would help protect everyone in the Fonlands…”

“Thank you, sister of the Fonlands,” a voice that is the combination of eight voices interrupts Grief and everyone on the platform startles to hear the Mysticisms speak. The voices are feminine and pleasant, but they sound like they come from a body. “Thank you all for being so welcoming. We have never felt the need for speech before now and you all are good teachers. We have heard your plea, Grief of the Death Witch Coven, and while we sympathize with your feelings, your reasoning is not compelling. The Ajogun deserve their eternal prison, they only seek to extinguish the Essence of others and that is why we glow purple. They have renounced the Essence inside of us and they use stores of Death magic that accumulated inside of them when they were in the Fonlands and on Rycoia. They are pure death now, more dangerous than when they were last here and we cannot release them. We are eager to aid in the defense of the Fonlands, however. That is concerning to us that this motherland that we have only just found is under threat. But sadly, you, Grief Witch, are not capable of wielding the powers that we can dispense.”

Grief is angry with this response and she powers up both her fists to plummet the flowers and the vase they occupy, but despite the strength of her blows, the Mysticisms are unharmed. Grief’s blows are easily deflected by a barrier that contours to the shape of the flowers. Everyone watching had moved to stop Grief before they realized what was happening, and then Catastrophe stepped forward to help Grief stand as she wept and walked away from the Mysticism. 

Lorv steps forward next and it takes Lêgba by surprise. She kneels before the Mysticisms as Grief had but on the opposite side. 

“Why did you choose Orgeran to wield your power?” Lorv asks. She had always wondered how the Mysticism made the call, even though by all accounts Ogeran was a powerful Mystic and probably the most deserving. She never expected to be able to talk to the Mysticisms, though, and she would take advantage of the opportunity.

“He was not perfect,” the Mysticisms say. “He had the flaws of any being, but he was determined to make his world better for everyone. He detested the suffering of others, he and would have given his life if it mean that others would have an easier time. That felt worthy of great power to us and we were happy to be a tool for him to make Rycoia into the haven of true freedom that it still is to this day.”

“Are the Mystics of Fytor a worthy order?” Lorv asks. “Is it a good thing that they stay on their planet, or should they interact more with other worlds of their universe to spread the freedoms of their homeworld.”

“The ideas of the Mystics are commendable, but not every Mystic is made equal,” the Mysticisms say wisely. “We believe that if there was a benefit to the Mystics intermingling with the wider universe, then it would have happened already, though we have had no say in that. There are Mystics of Fytor who wield greater power than we do, and they might see other worlds as playgrounds for their more base urges. Nothing would be able to stop a bad Mystic from doing bad things, so we are led to believe that the Rycoians should never leave their homeworld. Though some have, but thankfully, none of the power-mad ones.”

“This little interview session is entertaining and all,” Catastrophe interjects, “but can we get to the point?”

“Fine,” Lorv says and then to the Mysticisms, “I would be honored to wield your power in defense of the FOnlands. And it would be my honor to introduce you to the Disc of Age that is home to other flora like yourself that you may be happy to meet.”

“We would love to travel with you to the Disc of Age and if it suits us, make it our permanent home. But, aboatia Lorv, you are not the proper vessel to wield this magic. Your Death Flame is enticing, but you have never handled Death magic in the quantities that would be available to you and you are liable to hurt yourself. We will not be responsible for any harm to you.”

Lorv bows silently and retakes her standing positon next to Lêgba.

Havoc is next, but she does not kneel before the Mysticisms. She stand straight up with her shawl wafting in the cloud of her aspect. She has a beautiful female form that plumper that Catastrophe’s athletic build, but pleasant to behold, though her face is tight with anger at the moment and she barks words down at the flowers. 

“I won’t waste time pleading with you, I will only ask your judgement to move this along.”

“We would like to get to know the members of the Death Witch Coven better,” the Mysticisms say, “but at the moment, we believe all of you, including the Catastrophe witch, are only concerned with the freedom of the Ajogun, and as we have said, that will not happen. None of you will wield our power.”

All three of the Death Witches attack the Mysticisms this time and though Lêgba and Lorv both try to spring into action to stop the Witches, they are both repelled from the platform to another close by and it happens before either of them can counter it. The Death Witches fling spells and blasts of energy at the Mysticisms, they try to kick the vase, to grab and rip the petals of the flowers. Lêgba and Lorv watch with amusement. 

“I had no idea the Mysticisms were this powerful,” Lorv says, “though these three aren’t the heaviest hitters of the Coven. Grief is surprising though, I didn’t expect her to be the most aggressive of them.”

“They are a wonder,” Lêgba says and smiles down at Lorv as his body is imbued with the purple glow that had been inside the Mysticisms. “We have all agreed to bond for the good of the Fonlands.”

Lorv is speechless. The Vodun are impressive beings to behold in person, but combined with the power of the Mysticisms, Lêgba is something much more than he had been and Lorv has to back away from him. 

“Do not cower away,” Lêgba says, “we have agreed that you will hold a serve. Will you fight by my side and help me to do what must be done?”

Lorv is overcome by emotions and she realizes that the glow of the Mysticisms has moved inside of her. Her Death Flame burns from the tips of her wings. 

“It is an honor,” Lorv says and the two disappear from the Disc of Lêgba as the Catastrophe, Havoc, and Grief witches continue their futile assault on the eight mysticisms in the vase that none of them realize has lost its glow.