Wraithwood Botanist

Before I decide which technique to give you, I must finally ask. Will you protect this forest?

I felt infinite levels of frustration after hearing that question. Everyone keeps asking me to do that… they keep demanding that I do it. They’re requiring me to do it, but… I paused, hoping my honesty would bleed through. I don’t even know what that means to you. And-and… I don’t want to live alone forever. So I’ll probably try to bring people to live with me. And I doubt I can survive without a legacy, so I’m guaranteed to sell resources. I’m a human, Yakana. And if I’m being honest, asking a human to protect a forest is like asking wolves to protect lambs.

Mira.

I fell silent.

Brindle’s magic will allow you to reinforce the Bramble—or remove it. I can’t just teach anyone such magic.

My mind became fuzzy and I escaped to the surface, where I coughed and wheezed and choked on the information. What the fuck… I whispered as the souls screamed around me. Flashbacks of the Bramble ran across my mind. Killing. So much killing. Death and violence and….

The hateful, wild cries of the souls felt judgmental, so I escaped underwater again.

Mira, Yakana said.

I heard him—but I didn’t want to listen.

Mira. To be a Guardian isn’t to forsake your nature. It is not to make promises. It comes from having a desire to protect what is precious, and I can sense a deep love of nature. Is it enough for you to protect it?

From what, Yakana? From who? What qualifies as a need for protection? These things are subjective.

Yes. They’re subjective to you.

I froze.

If you have a desire to protect that which you find precious, Yakana said, then you will know when there is a need. That’s what it means to be a Guardian, Mira. To what extent is up to you. At what cost is up to you. What I ask, is whether the desire exists.

I…

I couldn’t say that I would. I didn’t chain myself to trees or join mycoremediation teams on Earth. I wasn’t involved in politics, and I sure as hell didn’t fight the government. Now, I was becoming remarkably skilled at slowing time and cutting animals in half, but that didn’t change anything.

If I got a tribute requirement? Sure. I’d be a good soldier and fight back and do whatever, then decide whether I would continue. It was a job—

—not a self-imposed commitment.

Ask me later, I said after deep deliberation. Actions speak louder than words.

Yakana seemed to smile. Good answer. Now chant. Kataléxi mía alitalía, spóndeos silviai temnérosa…

I followed—and instantly felt my body cave in as if it were a black hole that desired to suck everything within.

2.

Aiden watched the map update. They were getting close to the river—and that was a terrible thing. If Thorvel killed Mira, his contract with Brexton would break.

Halten! Aiden yelled. If we don’t make contact with Mira, I’ll become Brexton’s servant!

We’ve covered this! Halten screamed, dodging another attack.

Then why’re you leading these things to an intruder? They’ll kill ’er if they see her!

We’re not going to her—we’re going to the river! Only Thorvel has a soul core. Once we approach, only he can get near.

Aiden turned and saw a wyvern preparing a breath attack in Halten’s blind spot.

To your flank! he yelled.

Halten shot upward just in time to prevent a fire blast from potentially breaking his shield and killing Aiden. Stop talking! Let me work!

Aiden did, acting as Halten’s eyes as he dove, swooped, and shot to the sky, doing barrel rolls as fire and wind blasted behind him from all angles.

Thorvel, Halten’s colossal twin, suddenly shot ahead of them, cutting off the route at the cost of leaving his back exposed. It was stupid to show one’s back to their enemy—but there they were. They must have had a code.

Leave us! Halten roared. We will conduct our business and go.

What business? Thorvel growled.

To drop off these supplies.

For who?

Aiden gulped. These creatures were not in the First Domain and thus didn’t get the announcement—assuming that they got notifications at all.

A neophyte, Halten said. She was dropped in this forest during the last integration.

And you want to help her survive? Thorvel roared.

No. I wish to save this child from his own kind.

Oh, your master.

Never speak such words again.

Thorvel snorted but stayed silent. It seemed serious to him, too.

You’re here to drop supplies for a neophyte?

Yes.

Take me to her. I will rid your need.

Aiden’s heart nearly stopped.

He must make contact to fulfill his obligation.

Then satisfy his needs and then I will remove your need. Then, you can take the boy and return to exile. Now take me to her.

Aiden’s heart drummed in sixteenth notes, and he felt like he might fall off a cliff. It wasn’t right—the situation wasn’t right. Two months ago, Aiden considered flying into Areswood Forest to save Mira due to the sheer injustice of her ending up in the forest. Since then, he lost interest, as she didn’t want to be saved. Now, he was unknowingly being driven to kill her!

Things had spiraled out of control in all the worst ways.

Halten… Aiden said.

Halten didn’t answer. The wyvern considered it carefully, doubtlessly weighing the pros and cons of selling Mira out.

Halten…

Silence.

Aiden froze at Halten’s chilling tone. Then, he fell silent until the river was in sight. The river was distracting. It was far milkier and ominous than the one Aiden practiced healing magic near, and the thin mist around the water in his section was now as ghostly and toxic as London fog.

Halten paused in the air, and the others followed, adhering to a code despite their disagreement. Thorvel turned to face his brother head-on.

We prevent intruders, Halten said after great deliberation, we do not interfere with the Chosen.

Thorvel snorted. Have you thought so little about your actions that you’re just now considering your role?

No. I determined that aiding a Chosen did not break our oath. But I did not consider whether harming one would.

How convenient.

Convenient? If it weren’t for that woman, I wouldn’t be engaging in this farce!

Thorvel paused and considered his words. Aiden couldn’t see past Halten’s scales, so he borrowed Halten’s eyes to see the deliberation on Thorvel’s face. It seemed authentic.

I have no attachment to a human I have never met, Thorvel, Halten said. I think her presence is corrupting, and I would surely conspire to rid her of this forest if I thought I could—but I can’t. One person may be teleported here per decade. If that wasn’t by design, then why allow it at all?

Thorvel’s eyes narrowed. That is the Founder’s design—and the Founders were foolish. We swore allegiance to Brindle—nothing more.

Yes. And if Brindle sought to prevent the Chosen, he could have created a Bramble near the Divide. But he didn’t. Just as he protects the Founder’s—

The forest suddenly exploded with chaotic cries. Beasts of all descriptions howled and whooped and hissed in the forest, creating a cacophony that Aiden could hear hundreds of feet up. Trees rustled in the distance from some feverish stampede, and birds flew through the air.

Most dramatically, the milky fog in the river began flowing north up the river, disappearing from sight.

Everything froze between the vraxles. Then Thorvel turned to Halten with fury and betrayal in his eyes. What is this? he roared.

Before Halten could answer, he flew toward Mira at a speed that proved that he hadn’t flown seriously before.

3.

The cat bounds through the forest. His lungs feel like fire—his muscles hard as ice—but he presses on through the trees as the dragons draw near. Each feels like a horde of wild beasts, and there are many. The cat cannot kill one, let alone the swarm, and so he quickly opens his Guide to make a sacrifice.

His Guide pops up, telling him that he has used his last Diamond Request on a soul-harvesting spell. A beautiful white cat appears beside him, bounding between trees. As she runs, she communicates the chant, and he follows along, thankful to learn it’s similar to the other spells he has learned. He runs on.

He reaches the river as the next roar sounds in the distance, warning him to hurry. He speeds up, hopping over boulders, flying between brushes, bounding, pouncing, and sprinting toward the Diktyo River.

The closer he gets, the more he realizes how different it is. To his left and far right, the water is clear and unfettered by souls, and beasts are pushing and clawing and scratching each other as they charge into it, taking advantage of the missing fog. As for where the souls are, they are where Mira is, condensed in a vortex that morphs with animal beast visages.

The cat does not know what is going on—

—but he knows Mira isn’t moving, and he isn’t ready to face the wyverns.

He needs to get stronger.

The cat blinks into a large beast’s shadow, jumping onto the oxen-like creature’s spine and biting down, activating the soul-harvesting technique. It is a spell to harvest souls from creatures to process into soul mana, and he uses it despite lacking a core.

His body burns and his soul shudders and he wants to cry out in pain. But the pain is only temporary. He only needs to bear it for a moment—so he presses on.

He bounds onto another creature and a third. Soon, he’s engaged in a blood bath as fast as he can move, shredding through everything in sight—always ending by sinking his canines into the beast and churning his core.

He will be ready for when the dragons come.

4.

Halten’s body shuddered when he saw the souls congealing on the surface. For the first time since Brindle had been there, there had been a direct soul cleansing in the river, and the beasts were rioting. Birds and herbivores and predators congealed in a great mass, and one area, in particular, was a vicious, bloody riot as beasts trampled one another to get into or out of the river.

There was an agitator—

—a small one.

Halten could only see its mana and aura, and both indicated that it was the size of a shalk, yet it was tearing through large beasts indiscriminately.

He wanted to stop its onslaught, but something was wrong about the beast—it wasn’t killing. It only seemed to fight, defend, and then bite one beast after the next, leaving them feeling woozy.

Is it harvesting—

Suddenly, Thorvel released a roar that rustled tree leaves and blew waves in the water. The beasts stopped and panicked and the vortex of souls cleansing in the river suddenly broke, spilling souls in all directions. A wave of fog hit a crowd of beasts and they bucked and thrashed and scrambled to get out of the water, some falling victim to the soul corruption.

What are you doing? Halten yelled to Thorvel.

What am I doing? Aren’t you watching this?

Halten was. To his immense amazement, he saw a human swim to the surface after the vortex broke, take a breath, and return. A moment later, all the souls returned into a vortex, allowing them to watch a cleansing begin in real-time. As they spoke, thousands of souls were being purified, allowing them to move onto the next realm—thousands. Not one. Not two. The human Mira was cleansing the Diktyo River!

This was the most beneficial thing that could possibly happen for the river. Yet Thorvel was treating it like a threat and travesty. It only occurred to Halten then that Thorvel wasn’t born when Brindle was present. He didn’t get a cleansing or make the vow directly. In fact, Thorvel was seventeen thousand years younger than he was. His oath to Brindle was carried out by tradition and nothing more. Thus, he didn’t know what was going on.

This is a cleansing, you fool! Halten roared. These souls—

Thorvel turned to listen, but circumstance prevented him from learning what was happening. Hundreds of beasts had been subjected to concentrated souls—and many of them were losing their battles and turning.

Suddenly, they charged and screeched and gored one another, using tusks and horns and snouts to crush the nearest beast near them. Water splashed from the river in droves.

Cleansing? Thorvel roared. She’s corrupting their souls!

No, she’s—

Thorvel ignored Halten, pushing forward toward the vortex of souls. He inhaled deeply, and heat blasted through the area as fire built up in his lungs, turning the water to steam.

Halten’s world slowed to a crawl. The human Aiden screamed in his mind, and he wanted to stop Thorvel and beat him for his ignorance, but he could not attack so close to the water. Ranged attacks would kill the human Mira, and direct attacks would risk his soul being exposed. After two curses siphoned his soul force and a century of not replenishing it, entering even this area of the Diktyo River would corrupt his soul. It was risky on all accounts.

He could not help the human Mira.

Suddenly, a rock flew at Thorvel as he readied his attack. Halten and Thorvel both registered the rock and saw it for what it was—a rock. Nothing more.

So Thorvel ignored it and prepared his attack, but Halten didn’t. It was too unnatural for a rock to fly a hundred feet in the air, perfectly aimed at a wyvern’s eye. So he watched as the rock, light gray in the sun, suddenly entered Thorvel’s shadow—

—and then everything changed.

A blur with an overwhelming aura abruptly teleported on top of the rock, eye-level with Thorvel. The next moment, the small blur swung a paw, and three sickles of raw aura flew right into Thorvel’s eye as he breathed fire upon the cleansing ceremony.

The attack struck Thorvel’s eye with the intensity of a wyvern’s wind blade, making his eye explode as he crashed into the forest, fire breath torching random trees in its wake.

A gruesome three seconds of contemplation followed, with all the vraxles behind Halten staring blankly as the forest caught ablaze. Then, the vraxles noticed the tiny, invisible creature that attacked Thorvel—and they released blood-curdling battle cries.

The battle had begun.