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Y took a deep breath as he set the sussur bloom down on the ground, then sat cross-legged in front of it. He could feel his connection to the Weave around him flicker, then disappear entirely as the flower consumed the magic from the air. In theory, this should work... If he cast a spell, he wouldn’t be able to draw from the Weave, so it would force him to draw from his own psionic well instead... right?
He laid his zurkhwood staff over his lap and looked down at it thoughtfully, then slowly settled his hands on the gnarled head.
“Fiat lux!” A familiar surge of power rushed through Y’s body to his fingertips, but immediately fizzled out before it could permeate the space beyond his body. “Gordul!” he hissed under his breath, glaring down at his hands. He knew that he could do this, he’d managed it just a couple of days prior. But that was an accident. Now that he was actually trying to use his psionics, they seemed to elude him.
Okay, okay... Maybe he could try again. He closed his eyes and tried to feel the absence of magic around him, to find an opening he could latch onto. But to no avail. The spell disappeared even faster than the last time.
Y growled under his breath and tightened his grip on his staff, feeling the knots in the wood dig into his palms. What was he missing?! In a moment of frustration, he picked the flower up and tossed it aside petulantly, shuddering at the sudden rush of the Weave plaiting itself back together around him, like air filling his lungs.
"What are you doing, Y?"
Y nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice echoing in his head. He whirled around, gasping. "Gods, Omeluum!"
"I apologize if I startled you. It was not my intention." Omeluum looked between Y and the discarded sussur bloom, and Y couldn't help but glance anxiously to the direction of where the others were sleeping. He trusted Omeluum – really, he did – but every instinct he had screamed at him that being alone with a mind flayer was dangerous. That he shouldn't be here.
He tried to shake off the feeling and offered what he hoped was a friendly smile. "It's fine, I guess I'm just not used to people talking in my head yet." He looked over at the sussur bloom with a small frown. "But, uh – to answer your question, would you think I'm crazy if I said I was trying to cast spells in an antimagic field?"
Omeluum followed Y’s gaze. “If you are attempting to overcome the sussur bloom’s effects, I fear that you will have little success. Sussur trees live off of faerzress. Any attempt to prevent its absorption would only result in the death of the plant.”
“No, no, I know, I just...” Damn, this was going to be uncomfortable to try to explain to a mind flayer. “You... know my people’s history, right? And how that’s why so many of us are born with sorcerous abilities?”
“I am aware.” Omeluum paused, its gaze now fixed on Y as it tried to assess where he was going with this.
“Well, I was reading about people – non-derros, I mean – who got similar abilities from... uh...” Y’s voice trailed off and he looked up at Omeluum apprehensively.
“From being enslaved by a being from the Far Realm. You may speak plainly, Y. I know well what my people did to yours.”
“...Right.” Y coughed uncomfortably. “Well, some of them gained psionic abilities too, and could cast spells with them. So I thought I’d see if I could do it too. The sussur bloom was to prevent me from falling back on using regular magic.”
Omeluum considered this for a moment. “I would be greatly surprised if you could not. I have often wondered why the derro never embraced their psionic potential in the same way the duergar have. But then, I suppose that would require acknowledging what actually happened.”
Y winced and briefly looked away. “Making up an exciting creation story is easier to stomach, I can tell you that much.” He quickly shook his head. “The other day, I managed to cast a cantrip and didn’t realize until after the fact that I was under a sussur tree. So I know that I can , but now that I’m actually trying...”
“I understand. I had much of the same difficulty, only in reverse.” Omeluum approached the sussur bloom, using telekinesis to draw it up into its hands. “When you are using magic, you are a conduit. The power itself comes from the Weave, but your will shapes it into the spells you cast. Many mages – sorcerers in particular – may think that they themselves are the source of their power, but being near a sussur tree is quite sufficient to prove otherwise. The components you use for spells are used to help draw that power to you. But with psionics -” Omeluum looked at a spot on the ground a few feet away, and instantly, colourful lights burst from the ground. “- the power comes from within your own mind.”
Y’s eyes went wide as he stared at the lights, then looked down at the staff still in his hands. “So... I don’t need this, do I?”
“Not for psionics, no.” Omeluum watched as he put the staff down, then handed him the sussur bloom. “Try again. This time, allow the power to grow inside yourself, rather than gathering it from your surroundings.”
Y nodded and stared at the flower, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He honed in on the ever-present buzzing in his mind and began to nurture it, fuel it, until it was all-encompassing. His skull began to tingle as the energy coursed through him, until it released like a slingshot and careened past his fingertips and into the flower, immediately causing it to glow with an almost blinding light. Y laughed incredulously.
“I did it! Omeluum, I did it!” Y bounced on his heels, pale eyes glittering as he looked up at Omeluum with a grin.
Omeluum’s own eyes softened and it nodded in approval. “Very good. You learn quickly.” It paused. “Just one more thing. Do remember to limit yourself. I do not wish for you to overexert yourself and get hurt.”
Y laughed at that. “No kidding. That was just one spell and I already feel exhausted.” He set the flower down, gazing at its glow one more time before the spell faded away. “Thank you, Omeluum. Really.” Maybe he’d get used to working with a mind flayer faster than he thought.