by Paul Yoder
She looked at Cavok and Reza, and then over to Arie and smiled, her plaited, vine-like leafy braids shimmering in the sun that broke through the canopy momentarily with the breeze.
“You have knowledge of my kind? This is rare these days,” the figure said, her voice an intricate weave of earthy and airy notes.
“Though, haltia’s have long been friends of the soil, root, and all green things. Why do these children hunt a tainted one?” she said, walking towards Arie now, her steps seeming like a blur of forest growth, everyone in the grove mesmerized by the spectacle, all speechless at merely the sight of her stride.
“H-he—” Arie stuttered as the treekin closed the gap between them, “is our companion, inflicted as he may be. We are trying to help him.”
“Help, she says,” and the dryad’s smile faded as she turned back to consider Nomad. “No. This one is beyond reclamation. This child’s fate is sealed in ash and shadow.”
“No,” Reza firmly interjected stepping into the conversation, adding, “there is a way to reclaim his soul, and we’ve vowed to see the black taint purged from him.”
The figure did not turn to face Reza but walked past Arie and into a tree next to her, phasing her body into the bark and disappearing, startling the group a second time as she phased from a tree back into the grove behind Reza, answering, “You think to slay a devil? Reckless. More will be added to the ashen one’s numbers.”
Reza turned around to face the illusive treekin who had gotten so close, that she was but inches from her face, the slight oaky scent of vanilla now enveloping her.
Though she wanted to take a step back, the figure much too close for comfort, Reza firmly held her ground, intercepting an oaken hand that was slowly rising up towards her, but Reza noticed, even though she firmly gripped the dryad’s wrist, it continued to rise easily until her clenched wooden hand rested between the two at chest level, all the while staring unblinkingly into Reza’s eyes, a smile on her nymphish face.
“Give your hand to me, child,” she whispered, only loud enough for Reza to hear.
Reza pulled harder at the dryad’s wrist, trying to budge it, but it was as though she were trying to move a firm oak with deep roots tying it to the earth. Giving up on controlling the thing’s wrist, she went to step back, but found that roots had slipped around her boots and clenched tight the moment she went to move.
Branches sprouted out from the dryad’s sides, latticing itself contour to Reza’s form, knitting a living net around her, weaving in and through her legs and arms, not actively restraining her as of yet, but Reza now had no doubt what was a comfortable net of wood and vines that enveloped her, could at once secure her tight in place.
“Your hand, child,” the dryad issued once more, her tone holding less of her previously wispy playfulness.
Cavok stepped forward, chest heaving, and the quickly mounted aggression Cavok exerted was palpable in the air. Though she couldn’t see him, Reza felt Cavok was about to trounce the dryad.
“Stand down, Cavok—for now,” Arie called, seeing things were beginning to escalate.
Reza awkwardly felt the trellis-like vines inch their way around her every body part, continuing to thicken. She saw no other options at that point.
Hesitantly, Reza brought forth her other hand, tore her gaze from the wooden face inches from her nose, and looked down, moving to hold out her hand in front of her, doing as the dryad had asked.
She held her oak hand over Reza’s and began to open it, causing Reza to flinch as something cool and gritty sprinkled onto her skin. The wood hand moved away, and Reza saw that she held soil in her palm.
“This is the fate of all who live in the cycle of life. It is your fate, the fate of your friends here, this forest’s fate, and even my fate. In that way, we are all kin. But,” she said, now looking towards Nomad who writhed in the hold of the old grandfather tree’s roots, “it is not that one’s fate. He is no longer in the cycle. The lord of ash only takes—never gives back. None of his children, even in death, help to renew life on this planet. They are not fit for compost or peat. They only deplete what life remains within the cycle.”
As the dryad had talked, the webwork of vines had receded from Reza, and she once more looked back to her deep lavender irises.
“Let—me go!” Nomad breathed out, the tree trunks weighing heavy on his chest.
Everyone looked to him now, even the dryad. Reza moved warily past the treekin and kneeled at Nomad’s side. The roots were pressing down on him so heavily, she doubted anyone else in the grove in his position would still be drawing breath.
It was the first time since her visit with him in the prison that she had heard his voice. Hearing his voice kindled the flicker of hope she had for his returning to them.
“Nomad, do you recognize me or know where we are?” Reza asked in a tender voice.
Nomad looked to her, his eyes clouded, bloodshot, but not an angry red as they had been previously.
Straining his head and torso around to get a bit more space to breathe, Nomad managed to squeeze out, “South—to Tarigannie. I need to go back! Let me go!”
Reza turned and looked to Arie and the others who had moved up to join her.
“What’s in Tarigannie?” Arie asked, everyone now huddled around him, getting more information out of him in his last two sentences than they had the last few days.
“The black blood—calls to him. It’s ripping my mind apart! I need to go to him!” Nomad writhed with such veracity, that the group took a step back, not knowing if the large roots were enough to contain his outburst.
“Black blood, calling to him, Tarigannie—you think he’s speaking of Lashik’s master, the arisen lord?” Fin asked, looking to Arie and Reza. “Lashik is dead, and the arisen lord took off after the battle along the road to Warwick. That cursed wound of his could be drawing him back to the one that cursed him, or the next closest thing.”
“This one is drawn to whatever abomination that represents Telenth-Lanor currently here in Una. Lashik, the arisen lord, are these disciples of Telenth?” the dryad asked, appearing behind the group suddenly, once again awkwardly close to Reza, seeming to ask her the question directly.
Cavok moved to position himself between the two, obviously not liking the tree sprite’s centering in on Reza. Though his show would have been intimidating even to the roughest of men, the dryad didn’t turn to consider him once, instead continuing to hold eye contact with Reza.
“I—don’t know for sure, but we think that perhaps the arisen lord is indeed an avatar of Telenth. When I first encountered him, there was no disputing his power and presence. He was…like nothing I’ve ever faced,” Reza responded, taken aback by even revisiting the memory of the arisen lord.
A thrashing from Nomad shook Fin and Arie’s attention back to the man buried in the ground, but Cavok remained solidly fixed between the two women, Reza’s eyes glued to the dark lavender orbs peering into her soul.
“Few have witnessed an avatar of the Deep Hells and survive to speak of such. There is a curiosity with this one. More than that, I feel the touch of Farenlome has graced you recently. What is this blessing you carry upon you?” the dryad said, moving even closer before Cavok stepped in, placing a warning hand on the slender branch that was her shoulder.
“I sense it, an old magic wrought from the earth by the hand of an ancient one of Farenlome,” she said, now looking to Cavok to consider the large man.
Fin and Arie both now looked to the strongman and dryad, practically feeling the amount of tension that sparked between the two. They all knew Cavok didn’t get riled up unless he meant to deliver good on his threat, and currently, he appeared plenty threatening.
“Oh!” Reza exclaimed, drawing everyone’s eyes, instantly breaking the rising tension. “I know what earth magic you’re speaking of,” she said, shuffling through a side pouch momentarily before producing Isis’ ring.
“A member of m
y faith recently brought this before an altar dedicated to Farenlome,” Reza explained, the ring completely captivating the dryad as well as the others.
Though she didn’t touch it, the dryad bobbed her head around the held up ring, inspecting it from various angles. “Rarely does Farenlome or her children offer such a generous bestowment of life energy…curious,” she paused, seeming more interested in Reza the more they talked.
“Why do you not wear it? I sense a strong protecting power within it,” her oaky voice crooned.
“I—do not know how long the enchantment will hold. As I understand it, the longer I wear the ring, the faster—Isis’ presence fades,” Reza hesitantly answered, still not sure if the dryad before them was in fact friend or foe.
“You say there was a presence within it?” the dryad quizzically asked. “I sense no spirit within.”
“Isis possessed this ring. She spoke with me often. Are you saying she’s no longer attached to this ring? But Farenlome blessed it,” Reza said, worry seeping into her words.
“Farenlome is the God of nature. It is unnatural for spirits to linger here in this realm. They belong elsewhere. If there was a spirit within, Farenlome may have very well released her from her artificial prison.”
Reza looked devastated. She had not even said farewell, and to think she had left her back there on the cold cliffside.
Seeing how distraught she was at the news, the dryad attempted to comfort her, “Farenlome would have not done this against her will. She is a gracious God. If there was a task keeping this Isis of yours here, or if she had desired to stay within that ring, she would not force her eviction.”
Reza contemplated the dryad’s words, narrowing her eyes, gazing upon the mesmerizing dryad’s wooden facial features, lost in thought for a moment as she contemplated Isis’ unannounced departure.
Deciding it was not the time to overly linger upon Isis, she asked, “You say there’s great power still within it, a protection? Might you be able to tell me more about that? If Isis is not there to give the aid, where does it then come from?”
“Farenlome converted what magics were there with a repurposed power. I know it is a source of protection, to guard the wearer from harm; though, I would need to commune with Farenlome herself to fully understand the nature of that ring. I would but say, wear it. It was a gift freely offered from our Mother. Do not take it lightly. It was meant to protect you along your way for some higher purpose,” the dryad said, weaving her words along, mesmerizing all listening.
“You seem to know more about this ring than any I’ve come across. I might ask you more on the subject if we had the time,” Reza spoke, then looking back to Nomad, adding, “but we have pressing matters to attend. Hiro’s hold on sanity wanes more and more each day. We have very little time to accomplish the impossible task of slaying the arisen lord to cut his blood bond.”
“Yes, well you four would have scarce a chance to contend with Telenth’s finest. This is a god’s chosen we speak of after all. The one beneath those roots there,” she said, pointing to Nomad, “is for all intents and purposes, forfeit to Telenth’s beck and call. He seems bound to return to his master—” the dryad said, finishing as though amid an intriguing thought, Arie taking the pause to question the woodland entity.
“You say we stand no chance at defeating this avatar and releasing Nomad from his bonds. How do you know what we are capable of? How are you to say for sure we stand no chance when you don’t even know us? We have overcome a great many challenges before together. Perhaps the gods are on our side.”
The woodland figure continued to pause, standing so still that she might otherwise be mistaken for a delicate carving, then her lavender orbs shifted slowly to Arie, considering her questions a moment before answering, “Your strongest among you is no match for my strength,” she said, grabbing the man’s hand that still rested on her shoulder, twisting his arm out of the way with little effort, Cavok grunting as he strained to resist her press, giving inches all the while.
“Those who might be blessed by the power of gods have little knowledge of that power,” she continued as she looked back to Reza. “And those who might aid their friends, stand on the sidelines, indecisive,” she finished, looking back to Arie and Fin.
She released Cavok’s wrist, waiting a moment to assess if he was going to re-engage with her. Cavok seemed willing to let the dryad continue her point, which she did.
“I am but a lesser child of Farenlome, one of countless. There is little special about me. Even the name the elders gave me upon my rebirth denotes my wonted nature—Leaf. A leaf matters, yes, but not alone. If I, a lowly leaf could halt you all here and now, what chance do you stand against a god’s chosen?”
The group stood idle, each considering the question posed, even Nomad calming a moment to rest half-buried beneath the old tree.
“We may be individually weak, relatively speaking, but you of all of us should know, together we are strong. It’s not just us four that fight for Nomad and against Telenth’s finest. We have friends; some who are not here, that will heed our call for aid. Those that have influence and power in the region, some that hold high office in the realm of the enchanters, those that can help us hunt down our quarry. We stand in favors of many benevolent gods and goddesses. We’re not going to be facing the arisen king alone,” Reza calmly stated, slipping on the ring of Isis. “We stand against Telenth and his minions with powers that far surpass us—even you would not stand a chance against the movement we will rally together.”
Leaf, noting the ring along her slender finger, considered the saren’s words carefully for a moment while everyone waited for her answer. After a moment, she whispered, “Farenlome has deemed you worthy. In truth, this is all I require. Whom you stand against or with, means little beside this. I wonder if perhaps—there may be more to your gang than meets the eye, as one should know, the eye may often deceive the true nature of things.”
Sighing, her eyes slowly shifting to Nomad covered in sweat and dirt, hair tousled and slick against his skin, Leaf said in a burdened voice, “Still, you wish to save the unredeemable. Telenth is a mighty foe. Your band and I have a common enemy. He is despised by Farenlome’s children and all living things. Knowing that an ancient one has already aided your mission causes me to consider seeking the council of the sisters. Perhaps there is more to this than what I initially suspected. My sisters will provide us with a clearer answer.”
“Sisters?” Cavok asked, concerned that there might be more treekin hiding in the grove, seeing firsthand that just one could give them more than enough trouble.
“Calm, large one,” Leaf said, smirking at Cavok, her fairy-like demeanor slipping back easily enough. “I and my sisters mean no harm to you. In fact, we may be able to further aid you, if you are willing to grant me time to call them forth, that is,” she finished, looking to Reza for an answer.
Reza was taken aback. A moment ago, she was borderline being assaulted by the dryad, and now she was offering to call in the aid of her family for their cause.
“Take the dryad’s offer, Reza. My people knew to never refuse them. Ill luck falls upon those that do or don’t come to their aid when called to,” Arie said, who wasn’t usually overly concerned with folktales, feeling quite differently about this one.
Reza looked back to Cavok and Fin for approval, but neither seemed to have an answer ready, though it was clear that Cavok was displeased by the dryad’s presence. The choice lied at her feet, it seemed.
“This council you mentioned, would we be required to be present and where will you hold it?” Reza asked after a moment of contemplation.
“The inner garden. It is but a little ways further in the grove not far from here. I would only admit you there,” she said, slowly pointing a wooden finger at Reza. “It is a sacred place, and though we usually allow no outside sprouts like yourselves, considering the circumstance, I think my sisters need to witness you and your ring for th
emselves when making their decision for aid.”
Reza was not particularly scared of traveling deeper into the woods with the dryad, but she was still unsure if accepting the dryad’s help was in the best interest of ultimately helping Nomad. She did have him roughly pinned down currently after all. What if the council decided not to aid them and ordered Nomad expunged? What then? At the least, her friends would be watching over him while she was away.
“I will go with you to the garden,” Reza sighed heavily, turning to her companions as she added in a finite tone, “I’m trusting you three to watch over Nomad. Keep him safe. I will be back as soon as possible. We move out when I do.”
“You got it,” Fin replied, taking a seat a respectful distance from Nomad and the grandfather tree, seeing that they’d be staying there for a while.
“Don’t linger for too long, those city guards and their friends just might come back to give us trouble after how we dealt with them. Best not to stick around these parts longer than we have to,” Fin added, taking out a knife and a sharpening stone from his pouch.
She nodded her head, considering the advice of her friend. Fin out of all of them knew the mentality and motives of law enforcers. She trusted his judgment on the matter without reservation.
Leaf, intently watching the group, silently assessed everyone’s responses. Slowly turning, she guided Reza past the boughed archway of two oak trees, leading them deeper into the shady forest that stretched endlessly before them, the treetop canopy becoming lower and the smell of soil becoming heavier the further they walked the old path.
13
Council of Sisters
“You are a saren, correct? I feel the residue of many lives upon your soul,” Leaf chatted as they casually made their way through the sleepy woodland trail.
“Yes,” Reza replied distantly, transfixed now for the last few minutes on studying the strange moving form of the woody dryad. She pulled her fixation from looking at the back of Leaf’s unreal form.
