"Glad to hear it– you might also consider learning to Apparate yourself, in time," Eirun replied, her high opinion of Apparation being apparent in her tone.
When Engill indicated that she was ready, the elder Draoidh would approach her and then place a hand on her shoulder. In the next few moments, both of their frequencies would begin to rise until they were each little more than a combined cloud of Saol, nigh invisible to the naked eye. For Engill, this would surely be a unique experience, though how pleasant she might consider it would ultimately be subjective.
Being no Apparator herself, she lacked the spiritual control required to move or act at all in this form. She had no legs to kick, no arms to tread through the air as if it were water, not even a mouth to bring voice to her concerns– if any existed, that is. She would also not be able to wield her own Arcana like this, foreign as the experience was to her.
But still, it wasn't all bad. She had none of the physiological aspects one might associate with panic– no racing heart, no shaky breaths, no nausea, no tightening chest nor pit in the stomach. Lacking the parts which facilitated these things, the experience of being incorporeal was oft considered pleasant; some regarded it as an escape from bodily woes.
Her senses, too, would be vastly shifted compared to that which she had grown accustomed to. Vision was no longer limited to the perspective her eyes provided, her view now expanded to see in full from every part of the cloud of Saol she now inhabited– this vastly increased perspective might be dizzying, but at least such a symptom would be easier to bear without a body to mire in vertigo. She could hear, too, everything around her while taste and smell were combined into one strange sense. The only sense she truly lacked was touch.
The two of them together, pulled by Eirun's will, would flow swiftly into the forests beyond Ælfiríki. Buildings, trees, and wildlife would flit past them in a kaleidoscopic rush. Unused to this form of travel, Engill would find it somewhat difficult to gauge exactly how fast or how far they were going. Eventually, however, they would end appear in the middle of a verdant clearing.
Beneath the boughs of gargantuan trees lay a small swathe of land 'round which a river flowed. The grass grew in whorls with flagstone paths spiraling in turn on this little island; the middle of which appeared to be a ritual site of some sort, marked by a large stone, roughly five feet tall. Lush as the basin was, this area was dotted with numerous flowering plants trending towards purples and blues in color. Softly glowing wisteria trees, a known favorite of Ældrassil's, grew along the riverbanks. And though it was night, light still crept in from all around– the glow of Wisps and the natural bioluminescence of most of Ælheim's flora kept the Grove alight.
The two Draoidh would come to halt in the center of this island, with Engill materializing as solid first. If she had thought the process of shifting from flesh to incorporeal to be strange, the reverse would be stranger– gaining back all of her faculties at once would certainly be disorienting for those unused to it. Eirun would manifest herself a few feet away some seconds later.
"...to answer your other question, there are several methods we've observed over the years. The most efficient way is for you to grow yourself a cocoon out of your bound flora, and then I will return each day for the next seven to suffuse your cocoon with Saol," she began.
"One is incredibly vulnerable in that state– both to the world's dangers and to wilting; this process is normally a massive drain to both the body and soul. However, you will be safe here, protected by your kin. The soil of this island has been blessed with Ældrassil's own Saol, safeguarding you from withering. When you emerge, you'll be able to wield the vast amounts of Saol required to weave spells as a Fiadhaich does. That being the case, you will still need to be taught how to do so without hurting yourself or others." As she spoke, she began to walk over to the runecarved stone that stood just ajar from the center of the island.
"Whenever you are ready, you may begin to weave your cocoon– do so in the island's center," she concluded.
꧁══════════• ༺༉ { Eirun fyn'Blomgren Brida } ༉༻•══════════꧂
꧁══════════• ༺༉ ❁ ❀ ❁ ༉༻•══════════꧂
