Reincarnation Sickness

The old man led her parents out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Her father spoke first, "Will this change her? Is she still our little girl?"

"She is the same as she always was," the old man said simply, "Her personality will not change too harshly from Reincarnation Sickness, as she was always predisposed towards such a personality to begin with. Souls are, at their core, very reluctant to change too very much without extreme stressors causing it. She will need to be taught, though, to control the power she wields and to read dreams so she may know which are dreams of the past and which are merely dreams."

The old man, Alnus, was no stranger to her family, called in merely because she had mysteriously fallen ill, but was the local Mystic, in charge of all things regarding magic in their small village. He dropped his voice some and went on to speak with her parents, making certain to assuage their fears. He would teach her all she needed to know in time. His immediate focus was on calming her parents, which would quickly be followed by making a draught so she could safely slumber.

In the confines of the room, she sipped on the warm herbal tea, grimacing at the slight bitterness she detected now that it was no longer the only lifeline keeping her from falling back into the dark abyss that her dream suddenly felt like.

Her ears twitched uncomfortably, unable to settle as if they were still pinned by the uncomfortable bonnet, her tail was in much the same state, lashing as if it had a mind all its own. She caught hold of her tail and began to brush it, using the action to center herself.

Other small bits of knowledge had come with the dream and remained lodged in her memory. The maid did not have a name, at least not in the conventional sense. She had something her parents called her, but it was not something that the lord would have recognized as a name. She had merely been Tuft, called after the recessive tufts of fur on the tips of her ears.

Moving a hand from her tail, she touched her own silver-furred ears, suddenly incredibly conscious of the tufts of black fur at their tips. Her father's fur both on his ears and tail was as dark as a moonless, starless sky and her mother's fur was a soft grey. Both had sleek fur. It had never worried her before as it suddenly began to.

Her mother told her many times that at her birth they had first thought her fur the same light grey as her mother's. A gentle wash had revealed the almost metallic gleam from which part of her name came. She was not Tuft, her name was Silaira.

She stood and stumbled over to her mirror, afraid for a moment that she was no longer herself, but the face that looked back at her was her own. Her violet eyes moved along her soaked nightgown, hanging lifelessly off her instead of flowing as it normally did. She glanced at her tail, still silver-furred and fuller than either of her parents, and then moved her gaze to her tufted ears, still the same as she remembered them.

As if they had heard her move, likely they had as she had not been quiet, the adults reentered the room. Alnus tutted at her slightly as he spoke, admonishing her in place of her parents, who were both relieved that their daughter was alright and worried that something may yet be wrong with her, "You must not be up and about right now, little one. You have been dreaming a long time, yes, but your body was not resting during that time. I am going to go mix the draught necessary to stave off the dreams of the Reincarnation Sickness. In the meantime, you should get a bath with your mother's supervision, considering when your weariness catches up with you, it could do so quite suddenly."

Quietly, uncertain if perhaps her voice might suddenly be different, she spoke up, "I am not Tuft…Right?"

Alnus sighed wearily, that she remembered the name that went with the past life was an indication of trauma, and quite a lot of it. Whatever she had dreamt, it had either been terrifying or had ended horrifically, "You are Silaira, as you have been since you were born. In a past life, you were Tuft once, though we've little way to know how long ago, nor how far away."

"It was in Elfin lands," she answered simply before changing the topic, "Why do I remember my past life? I thought souls could not do that."

"Normal souls cannot, little one," he explained patiently, "But, if I am being honest, I have been waiting for you to show the signs since your birth," seeing the confusion on her face he continued before she could speak, "Metallic elements to the fur are a sign of great compatibility to magic among the Faelyn. That you were born with silvered fur means you will have strong ties to at least one element, if not more."

"You are yet young, none of the young ones your age have been taught about Reincarnation Sickness as of yet. It normally does not manifest so soon. I expected we would have another five years if not a few more before it would begin to appear. It is vital that I mix the draught to keep you from experiencing it for now. I will be able to teach you more, but only after I am certain of your safety."

When he returned after she had bathed and her mother had changed the sheets and blankets on her bed, he had a jar of powder in hand, "The measuring utensil you need is in the jar," he said, addressing both her and her parents, "Use a level scoop every night to make a cup of tea at least an hour before bed," he did so as he continued speaking, handing her the cup when it was dissolved, "It has the minimal amount of negative side effects and will keep you safe."

"Minimal?" her father caught on, "What exactly are the side effects?"

"This draught stops all dreams, not just the ones caused by the Reincarnation Sickness. It is merely a temporary measure, we will stop using the tea once she has matured a bit more, around five years from now so that things may progress as normal."

All Faelyn, even the most magically unskilled, possessed the ability to Dreamwalk, or to visit the dreams of others. While they had no control over it, they used it to further develop a sense of community and belonging, befriending individuals they might otherwise never meet in their waking hours. Sometimes the Dreamwalking led them to individual dreamers, other times to whole groups, but it was an important part of growing up as a Faelyn, as integral to them as the magics that were unique to their kind.

Had the draught been a more permanent measure, her parents may have fought against its implementation, but Dreamwalking often did not start until puberty as it was, meaning that their young child would not grow up disconnected from her people. The idea of such a thing was akin to torture to most adult Faelyn.

Silaira already knew what Dreamwalking was, so she said softly but to the point, "Tell me more about Reincarnation Sickness, teacher Alnus."

He sighed and settled in, motioning for her to start drinking her tea, "As you well know, all souls of our world, of all creatures, die and are reborn. Most souls stay the same creature, as souls, in general, are reluctant to change. The tether to one's memories of their past lives is made of magic. Most have a tether so weak that they are merely passingly aware that they lived once before, if aware of it at all. Some have a stronger awareness, knowing perhaps that their soul is one of the few that has chosen to change over time. Others, such as yourself, have a tether strong enough to the memories of your past life that they clamor to make themselves known."

He took a breath, letting out a light sigh, "Such memories can range from the beautiful to the horrifying but they all have something in common. They are an opportunity the core of your soul sees for you to learn things that will help keep you alive. In the case of whatever you may have dreamed with Tuft's life, it could be something like avoiding the Elfin lands until you are powerful enough to not fear them. Other dreams could help you learn about skills you had in your past lives, both magical and physical. There is a lot to be taken from such dreams, so long as you learn to differentiate between them, regular dreams, and Dreamwalking. We call this phenomenon of a powerful soul Reincarnation Sickness because the dreams take a toll on the body."

"Over the next several years, I would have started teaching the group of younglings around your age about it, as it normally shows with puberty since your connection to your magic also begins to grow at that time. Instead, you were left unprepared and suffered the worst of the effects of the sickness part of it. You slept for nearly a week, little one, a nightmarish sleep that had you screaming much of the time, sweating and feverish. Neither your mind nor your body were prepared for what the dreams could do to you and, most importantly, you did not know how to force yourself awake. As a result, we had to wait for you to wake naturally, to hope that you were able to do so."

He stood, "Now," he turned his attention back to her parents, "I would advise keeping her awake for another hour at least. Then let her sleep. She will be tired for a few days at least, but still should only sleep at night to restore her natural rhythms; her body was sorely taxed by the Resurrection Sickness. Had it gone on much longer, she could have lost her sanity, even her life. It is time for me to take my leave. Take care that she always drinks the tea before bed and come to me once the powder gets down to the marked line so I can make more."