Chapter 15: The First of the Zephyric Brew-winds

The Dauftima pride was once a large and powerful family of magi, ruled by its eldritch brew witches. The oldest and most powerful groups of mages once possessed what are known as Exspells, exalted elder spells. All spells are patterns, and a true exspell is a origin pattern from which countless lesser spells are derived.

Patterns are knowledge, information, the details and rules that govern a form! Knowledge is power and the Exspells were powerful knowledge indeed. However, in the era that the three sisters lived in, most Expells were sealed, cursed, hexed, forgotten or otherwise made nigh unfathomable.

The Dauftima pride never had an Exspell, the time that such knowledge flowed freely was in the past. They did however have a set of fourteen spells derived from the Zephyr of Absolution. The set of spells were named the Zephyric Brew-winds. The patterns of these brew-winds were in Qusheab’s red witch’s hat.

Qusheab could barely comprehend or even visualize the first of these spells, never mind the thirteen remaining ones. What she did know however, that was more than enough to give great control over the smoke, smog, fumes or whatever issued from a brewing concoction!

She stood before the main brew of the cottage. The brew thick with the essence of time and the destruction and creation of the loop magic. As she stirred the steam flew back into the brew, forming a loop.

The air became heavy with the anticipation of ritual, and before Qusheab had done anything currents arose in the flow of magic. The echo of an echo of an Exspell was quite enough for the flow of magic to remember and recall. The light of the cottage converged and the other potions brewing in the hall grew still and quiet, oppressed by a power greater than they.

Qusheab’s lips moved.

The first of the Zephyric Brew-winds…

“It’s name is Catharsis! I know it not, but its shadow rests in my mind”

The words were a wind, tearing from her mouth, assaulting the flow and the steam of the brew. The brew’s steam resisted for a moment before it submitted. A fuzzy image of a pattern was brought into being before Qusheab, unseen by normal sight! Revealed by magesight!

The wind did not end and Qusheab doubled over as if her very soul was escaping from her with the magic wind. The Dauftima pride had fallen far, but Qusheab was still a proud brew-witch! It would take more than this to end her!

“I of the line of Dauftima, Witch who brewed the stars and leaves, submit to me oh echo, bend to my will oh wind!”

The wind stopped coming from her, but in turn it raged, threatening to spill the .

“I of the line of Dauftima, I who brewed my tears to storms, thou are my power, as my ancestors commanded so I command!”

The wind shuddered, and settled following the steam of the brew.

Qusheab did not even take a moment for a breath, she could not risk doing so, the obedience of the pattern was a mere act. It was only the force of history of the dauftima pride that allowed her any bit of control at all.

“Wards there once were, wards there will once again be. Destruction there is, destruction there will not be. I hex this destruction with the Zephyric Catharsis!”

Qusheab no longer stirred the brew. She stirred the wind with her ladle, and while the ladle crumbled under the might of the spell, it still worked. As a haunting aria the wind swept all of the cottage, all corners, all nooks. With the brew’s steam fused into it, the wounds of the ward peeled off, and the wards were restored to a state where they had been functional.

The wind swept back these marks of destruction and they hovered in a ball above the main brew, like some manner of obscene egg. Qusheab could not simply dispose of such things, so she put a paw into her hat and pulled out a jar. This jar had a sinister air, and was made completely from bone, the whole body of which was carved into a single sealing pattern. She pulled the stopper out of the jar and soundlessly the mass of destruction was sucked within. With painful effort, she pushed the stopper in, using the remaining force of the Zephyric Brew-wind to aid her.

The wind dispersed and the wards in some sense were restored.

Qusheab collapsed and panted heavily. She quickly took out a potion with a thick brownish orange liquid within. Holding her nose and grimacing she downed the contents. Before she had fully recovered however, her eyes opened wide in shock.

The restoration of the wards had pushed out the influence of the fallen realm’s magic.

In doing so, they revealed the true state of the cottage!