Ames

A small, eccentric college that began as a secretive magical seminary, and still secretively operates as such when the lights go out.

Contemporary Fantasy, New Adult

c. 1600: Elder, the... Eldest of all of the Green Mountain dryads, is animated.

c. 1650: The 4 Green mountain mother dryads (Maple, Oak, Birch, and Hemlock) are animated, along with Elder's only daughter, Rowan.

c. 1700: A mage settlement called Ames is formed just a few miles from Maplewood, comprised of families fleeing the Salem Witch Trials. The dryads and mages, sharing much in common, have a friendly relationship, especially in the early days of the settlement when there are only 5 or so families in Ames.

c. 1800: Ames Magical Seminary is established in Ames, VT.

1877: As mage settlements pop up near the woods of all of the Green Mountain dryads, Elder and the four mothers charm the Armor Crystals and create the silver cuff fixture which they are to be set in. The Cuff, when inlaid with all of the crystals, grants its wearer exponentially increased magical ability, which the dryads begin to fear they may need with so many settlers encroaching on their land, but due to the volatile and powerful nature of its enchantment, there are many conditions to its use. Each mother dryad carries one of the crystals, with Elder carrying the Cuff. The crystals are magically bound to each mother dryad, and the Cuff to Elder; for another individual to use one of the objects, it must be given to them directly (not picked up or taken without the previous bearer's knowledge). All five objects must be set in place by five separate bearers at the same time for the Cuff to absorb the crystals and to work the way it is meant to work.

1899: Exactly twenty-two years to the day after the enchanting of the Armor Crystals, Elder is struck with a vision surrounding the fate of the Cuff and speaks a prophecy, which is as follows:
~
"A hundred twenty years from now, when hungry beasts intrude,
And steel devours verdant fields, and shadows supplant joy,
A stranger, who is close and dear, will earn our gratitude.
A grander woodland daughter will the armor cuff employ."

Early 20th Century: Ames experiences a small (non-magical) population boom, and a coalition of townsfolk request that the Seminary offer courses in areas such as anatomy, medicine, languages, and agriculture. Wanting to avoid scrutiny (or in their words, "another Salem"), they comply, hiring professors, and Ames Magical Seminary becomes Ames College and Seminary.

1942: Oakwood is razed to the ground by a nearby textile company on a wartime government contract so that they can build a manufacturing facility (which is now long defunct).

Mid-1960s: Local businessman Cornelius Addison becomes mayor of Ames. He "works with" the heads of the school to pursue full accreditation for Ames College and Seminary (after which it changes its name to Ames College), and uses large sums of his personal wealth to hire top-tier professors. This stimulates the economy of the town, and the prestige of the school begins to rise steadily, but the rising notoriety of the area poses a challenge for the dryads of Maplewood.

Late-1960s: Llewelyn Thwaite, a mage and the former president of Ames College and Seminary, becomes romantically involved with Maple, and begins to spend most of his time in Maplewood with her and her daughters.

Early-1970s: "Ames Forest," as it has been designated by the town, is given protected status.

Mid-1970s: Hemlock passes of old age (which for dryads, entails reverting permanently into tree form), passing the leadership of Hemlockwood onto her eldest daughter Juniper.

Late-1980s: The Addison Corporation, an energy company founded by Cornelius Addison's yuppie son Tanner Addison, starts to exert an increasing (and increasingly concerning) amount of influence over the town of Ames.

1980s-1990s: As Ames College rises in rankings, and the Addisons become wealthier and more influential, the dryads express their frustration to some of the older mage families still working at the school. As a result, the vice president of the school, Dr. Jules Devine (a mage from a wealthy and powerful lineage), begins to visit the Maplewood dryads more frequently. Welcomed by his former mentor Thwaite, he initially aims to come to an understanding with them. However, his motives become shadowy when he falls in love with Maple's daughter Magnolia, who does not reciprocate.

2000: After a concrete (but vague) rejection from Magnolia, Devine ceases to visit Maplewood regularly and becomes deeply bitter.

2001: When Maple's sister Cottonwood, a de facto messenger between the Maplewood dryads and the Ames mages, starts refusing to deliver Devine's letters to Magnolia, he storms into Maplewood in a spiteful rage, killing Cherry, the youngest of the Maplewood dryads (and a new mother, who had recently moved near Philadelphia with her human husband, and was back visiting her family). The Maplewood dryads place a protective confounding spell on their woods, making it nearly impossible for any non-dryad to come within half a mile of them without a dryad leading the way. Though they would like to employ the cuff now more than ever to enhance their ability to shield themselves, the Oakwood crystal is long-missing.

2004: The Addison Corporation lobbies to get the protected status of Ames Forest withdrawn. They succeed.

2011: When Devine discovers that not only did Magnolia not reciprocate his romantic feelings, but that she has moved to Birchwood to be with Dogwood, Birch's eldest daughter, he begs Cottonwood to let him return and "apologize" to the Maplewood dryads. Cottonwood does not allow this, and after an argument with his sister Phaedra and his brother-in-law Teddy, the unhinged and embittered Devine kills them both and not only gets away with it, but gains custody of their unsuspecting children Darcy (11) and Lachlan (16) and maintains his position as president of Ames College.

2017: An Addison R&D team is assembled to look into producing biofuel. They are tipped off by Devine about "mysterious trees" made of "high-calorific biomatter," and given what Devine deduces are the coordinates of Birchwood, but told to only go at night. After some initial dismissal of the idea, they visit Birchwood and are more than impressed by the potential of these trees for use in biofuel. These trees, however, are dryads (if you couldn't tell) and their "extension trees," and each extension tree that dies weakens a dryad's life force. The R&D team kills one of the already aging Birch's extension trees, and Birch dies shortly afterward. Meanwhile, on the walk back to the lab, a member of the R&D team is attacked by a strange-looking canine creature, with moss covering its fur.

Fall 2017 to Winter 2018: As the Green Mountain dryads grow panicked about the coming realization of the "a hundred twenty years from now" prophecy, Laurel ("Laurel Woods" to her colleagues), a Maplewood dryad and Ames alum on the board of trustees, works tirelessly to recruit Page Fitzroy, a high school senior, to Ames. Page, a friendly jock who knows nothing of her dryad blood ("a stranger who is close and dear"), is the child of the late Cherry and her human husband, making her the granddaughter ("grander woodland daughter") of Maple. As such, the Green Mountain dryads are inclined to believe that Page is the hero the prophecy foretold. In February 2018, Laurel finally convinces Page to commit to Ames with a hefty track scholarship.

Autumn 2018: After discussing the strange trip of the R&D team with Devine, Addison has decided that more investigation is needed into the characteristics of Ames Forest and the surrounding woods. However, not wanting to risk the safety of his own employees and end up with a lawsuit, Addison devises that Devine himself will teach a class called "Mysteries of Ames." Addison and Devine understand that they still must make the risks of the course clear to avoid legal trouble, but they also work on making it as appealing as possible. Disguised as an exclusive and exciting local history and cryptozoology course, Mysteries of Ames promises to offer "an incomparable experience," "personal fulfillment," "an intimate class setting," and "double credits." It is also offered only to a select group of students who Addison and Devine have deemed "highly vulnerable," a quality which they determine through a variety of factors, not the least of which is an end-of-semester "Student Satisfaction Survey."

Late Autumn 2018: Laurel suspects Addison and Devine's motives might have something to do with the fate of the forest, and that this all might have something to do with the prophecy. To ensure that Page is given the opportunity to take Mysteries of Ames, she devises a trap to moderately injure Page at a December track invitational. Stumbling over a vine that Laurel quickly materializes and quickly destroys, Page sprains multiple ligaments in her knee, making her unable to run track competitively for at least part of the next semester. Laurel frames Page's need to take temporary leave from the team as the "loss of a social support," and uses this reasoning to get Page on the list of "highly vulnerable students."

2019: The events of the story.

Some people are born with overt magical gifts. Those born into magical families will pretty much invariably inherent magical ability. Those born to a mage and a non-mage will likely also have magical ability, but will also likely be less powerful than their magical parent. Those born to two non-mages probably won't have magical ability, but it can happen if they have the "magic gene" in their family history. For reference, "mage" is an umbrella term for all magic users ("witch" and "wizard" are considered gendered and somewhat rude, and "sorcerer/sorceress" are derogatory); while some mages are "just" mages, dryads (for instance) would also be considered mages, as they are magic users.

Again, "magical ability," does mean "overt magical gifts." All humans, to some degree, have latent magical traits, as what we would consider "magical ability" is effectively heightened intuition and heightened connection with the forces of the natural world, and all humans have some degree of intuition and some ability to connect with the forces of the natural world. This is why when even non-mages handle powerful magical objects for a significant period of time or in a significant way, their latent magical traits become overt.

For classification purposes, there are two primary "types" of magic—empathic magic, and embodied magic. In simple terms, empathic magic concerns the metaphysical, and embodied magic concerns the physical. Some examples of empathic magic are emotional inducement, emotional absorption, and emotional reading (which is necessary to both of the former). Mages often develop a skill for empathic magic very young: studying empathic magic is similar to learning to draw, in that every mage is born slightly able to perform it, and some simply grow able to perform it with more expertise and fluency than others. Some examples of embodied magic are telekinesis, geokinesis, and body manipulation. Studying embodied magic is similar to learning an instrument, in that it requires regular practice for one's embodied magical ability to become in any way impressive. Additionally, those with more of an innate skill for empathic magic tend to be more successful with embodied magic, however, this is not a hard and fast rule, and anyone with overt magical ability can become skilled with embodied magic if they perform it regularly and with enough intensity. There is also incantational magic, which is more sacred and requires advanced, meditative clarity of purpose, and the pre-existing ability to perform empathic and embodied magic. Incantational magic requires its user to sing their spell, whereas empathic and embodied magic have no spoken component (hence "incantational"). Incantational magic is special, because while empathic and embodied magic can both only take effect while a mage is actually casting (and if a mage casts for too long, they will become weak; a good gauge of "have I been casting for too long?" is to see if your nose is bleeding), incantational magic can last beyond its actual casting.

Empathic and embodied magic require no casting focus (though the use of a focus can affect a mage's efficacy), but incantational magic does. A focus can be any natural object (aside from those with a consciousness), but the larger it is, the more powerful it is AND the more difficult it is to use, and the enchantment only lasts for as long as the focus survives. Thus, among mages, gems and crystals are the most common foci (additionally, different crystals amplify different types of enchantments and work with different types of intention). This, though, is why dryads have an innate gift for incantational magic, which is typically not a magic that one can have an innate gift for; A dryad (a full-dryad) is born from their mother's "planting" (another key difference between dryads and ordinary mages: dryads are able, with intense effort, to generate life), and as a dryad grows, so will their "extension trees" in a loose circle around them. These are non-conscious trees of a dryad's same species, the life force of which is intrinsically linked with theirs (they will start to wither whenever their dryad dies/de-animates). Because every dryad has complete dominion over and connection with their extension trees, they are able to use them as foci as easily as an ordinary mage can use a stone, if not more easily. Dryads are also interconnected by roots with all other dryads in their locale (even when they are in human form and are not literally rooted), and thus have powerful empathic abilities surrounding every living thing in that locale, conscious or not. Most dryads have also been raised singing the ancient songs and progressions that are most effective for incantational magic, and have a much deeper understanding of and appreciation for them than ordinary mages.

The most common type of mage born to non-mages is the healer, who has innate empathic magic abilities that are overt enough that they can truly be considered magical. Typically, by their adolescence, with or without magical instruction, they will show signs of embodied ability: these healers will also seem to heal rather quickly from their own wounds, and though they may not realize it, they will likely be able to soothe the pain of others' wounds as though they are a salve. They will also have an innate connection with animals, and are very intuitive when it comes to the feelings of others. Should they realize their abilities, a healer will often be able to learn to more intense magic; some of been capable of powerful emotional inducement, others able to close large gory wounds. The common thread among healers is their aforementioned connection with animals, the ability to perform small acts of embodied healing with little to no instruction, and an inability to use embodied magic for violent purposes, even if they attempt to do so.

To illustrate what we've learned so far, let's invent an enemy: we'll call him Bob. I am a mage, and I stare at Bob in his eyes. Using empathic magic, I glean that Bob is feeling kind of good, and so (still staring in his eyes, or touching him, but I don't want to do that) I induce bad feelings inside of him. But those feelings only last as long as I am actively casting (and when I do that for a while, my nose starts bleeding), so I stop, and though Bob is shaken and not AS happy as before, he is also not as sad as he was when I was actively inducing those bad feelings. So I stare at Bob's wrist and with intense concentration, I sprain it. He goes "ouch," but quickly puts ice on it, and I'm tired, so I don't have the endurance to sprain every muscle in his body. So I pull an amethyst pendant out of my pocket (with a silver chain, because silver and gold are the most effective conductors for a focus), and I put it on. I take a few deep breaths and try to clear my head, and then I quietly sing: "Pompous Bob with your damaged arm, you will now be unable to keep out of harm." However, I am basically trying to make it so that Bob completely loses his self-preservation instincts, and this is more than I can do with my itty bitty focus and my comparatively weak magical abilities, and my amethyst glows angrily for a split-second (or I read it that way, anyway). "Bob with your shoes and your coat and your hat," I sing, "It seems you have become allergic to cats." My amethyst glows for a few seconds, and suddenly, a cat walks in, and he starts sneezing. Not that much, though, which is disappointing. I call up my dryad friend, and say, "hey, can you perform a mean incantation on Bob for me?" She says, "bring him to the woods." You drag him out there, and surrounded by her extension trees, she sings "A pitiful man stands before me here. The sight of his sparse beard, it brings me to tears. Oh dearest Robert, before you go, I do hope your sad little beard will grow." Suddenly, Bob's beard begins to grow at an alarming rate, and before he knows it, it's down to his ankles. He runs away, tripping over his ridiculous beard as he does, all the way to his healer friend, who makes his sprained wrist feel a little better (but can't do anything about the beard), and you high-five your dryad friend.

However, her mother dryad (or whoever the leader of her woods is) is pissed at her, because they're really not supposed to do stuff like that.

There is no centralized magical "authority," primarily because the pockets of high magical population are spread out states (and even nations) apart (and because there is no reliable way to perform any kind of magical census, especially with many dryads living in the woods and not being official citizens of their countries, and with many mermaids living underwater—oh there are mermaids, there are TONS of magic users we'll never get to here). However, in those highly magically populated areas, it tends to be a sort of an open secret, and it is the consensus that mages should not make their powers irrefutably clear to many non-mages (lest they spark "another Salem").

2019 level.