Wraithwood Botanist

"Uh…" He moved his body subtly to use my shadow to shield his eyes. "Give me a minute… or two… Ugh."

I moved sharply, stealing my shadow and blinding him with the sun’s fury. Then I sighed. "Okay… I’ll keep myself busy." He thanked me as I found a tree with roots that made a stool-like chair and sat down, listening to the sound of the symphony bugs as I thought about my position.

I wanted to contact my family, but I was also afraid to. I was too deep in things I didn’t want to talk about. War. Violence. Conspiracies.

Would my parents still love me if they knew everything I had signed up for?

I didn’t know. But I wouldn’t agonize over it. I made my choice and had to stand beside it, no matter the cost. And more importantly, I wasn’t going to avoid the people I loved, so I swapped a gold request for two silvers, knowing that this could be my last message, and then set to work, writing out a letter with my mind as I watched the text fill my Guide.

Two hours later, I looked up and found Kyro glaring at me suspiciously. It kind of ticked me off, so I promptly began reading.

"Dear Mom and Dad and Tyler and Gatsby," I said sassily. "Guess who has two thumbs and a magic tent? This girl! If you think you’re living in style, just know that I’m living in an indestructible igloo that heats up and cools down to my specifications and even has a basic stove inside. Kline activates the array with his paws when I’m not looking, curling up against it instead of me. Guess his human isn’t good enough as a heater anymore. Or maybe it’s just that cool.

Anyway, that’s enough of that. Let’s talk about you. I really want to know how everyone is doing. Are the guards doing right by you? Are things awkward? Is Tyler staying out of trouble? It’s really hard to know what’s happening with me stuck in this forest, but I suppose that’s how it goes.

I’ll make a few guesses, though."

2.

Twenty minutes later, Doug got the notification and hurriedly turned to his wife. "Get Tyler. Mira just messaged us."

It was Dronami’s equivalent of Saturday, and Tanya refused to let Tyler practice until chores and family time were over, so he was still around. And the second he heard, he flew back to the dining room as if he hadn’t inhaled his food and acted remarkably busy and unable to speak twenty minutes ago.

Still, Doug did love the look of excitement on Tyler’s face to hear from Mira—even if it was mostly because she spoiled him rotten.

"Ready?" he asked.

Tanya gave the go-ahead, and he read the part that Mira had read to Kyro and then continued on.

"I’ll make a few guesses," he said. "After spending a hefty request to get Tyler a teacher in this uncivilized backwoods violent hellhole, they sent some elite ninja monk hitman templar gladiator to teach him, and Mom’s totally freaking out about it. She’s worried about his future and, you know, him dying a gruesomely violent death, and Tyler’s recently taken the stance that, "This is just the way of the world, Mom," to her dying dismay."

Tyler’s lips curved into a twisted grin, but Tanya forced it off his face by glaring at him and saying, "She’s mocking you."

"No, she’s not," Tyler said. "It’s because it’s true."

Doug laughed at first, but as he read on, his smile inverted into a grumpy scowl.

"What does it say?" Tanya asked.

"It says… I bet Dad’s been consoling her, drawing parallels between this world and the US Marine Corps and saying that Tyler just wants to follow in his old man’s footsteps. It’s not helping, but you all know Tyler’s right. This is just how it is now. It’s best just to make him as strong as possible."

Suddenly, Doug felt like a fraud. Mira called out his fallacious front. It would’ve been bad if she didn’t call out Tanya as well. Only Tyler was happy with the statement. That said, Mira’s honesty soon gripped all of them.

"Anyway," Doug read. "I’d bet Tyler’s teacher’s putting him through hell and making him thread cores every night, so he’s rushing to his room. Mom’s probably misinterpreting that and wonders if she’s alienating them and wishing she could be the "Cool dad," unaware that dads have it harder in strange ways. After all, Mom’s probably been thinking he was a suck-up, ignoring the fact that Tyler’s not talking to him either, so it’s a lose-lose. Worse, his asshole daughter hired his son a murder coach who’s surely taken over the father role, and there’s only so many pickle jars to open, so Dad’s been feeling a bit irrelevant and searching for ways to bond. He hasn’t found them, so, like Mom, he’s mistakenly come to the conclusion that we’ve reached the age when we don’t need him when, in reality, from birth till death, we’ll always bring our troubles to him first.

Tell me—how’d I do?"

"Brooooooo," Tyler laughed. "She just cooked you. You know it’s bad when you come to an alien world with magic and swords and she still no-scoped your life."

Tanya turned to him with a sinister smile. "What did I say about training in the house?"

Tyler’s face paled. "I said you’re beautiful and exciting. It’s wonderful that Mira understands you."

Doug laughed and sent Tanya a forgive him glance. She did, and he continued reading.

"I’m guessing it’s pretty accurate or at least in the ballpark. It’s easy to guess the big things when people are acting responsibly. But what I can’t guess is the little things: what your favorite restaurant is, the strange things you’ve experienced, and the special moments you’ve shared. I want to hear about your friends and dreams. That’s what I dream of hearing about when I think of visiting you. So please, tell me when you write back."

Doug suddenly felt very emotional and his stomach uncoiled into an empty pit. Then, the emotional moment crashed to a halt with the next words.

3.

"As for me, I’m lucky—as always—to be alive," I read, watching Kyro carefully. "Sounds kinda bleak to put it like that, but it’s the truth. With the upcoming Harvest, thousands of second and third-evolution beasts are migrating south in preparation to slaughter the harvesters, and I’m in the center of it. What’s worse is that somehow, I, through a partnership that will be soon announced if it hasn’t already, have the great honor and obligation to push through all these creatures to get to the Bramble this year.

What a time to be alive!

Thankfully, your daughter’s on a bit of a mean streak. Up until recently, I would attribute luck to being the primary reason that I’m still alive. Now, I think I’m approaching a point where I can truly survive on my own. Only took three months, ten miracles, and Jesus all but riding down on an asteroid to save me from the dinosaurs, but my fear of making it to the harvesters should be inversely proportional to the terror you should feel on the prospect of stepping past that gate."

Kyro, who had become far more relaxed after I began, became apprehensive again.

"What?" I asked.

He fluttered to a large pink mushroom and sat on it like a tiny stool, thinking about it. "It’s better to feign weakness when possible. If you tell people your strength, they’ll bring more people to compensate."

"Yeah… I thought about that. But in this case, it’s pretty unavoidable. Elana’s people will be expecting me, and that necessitates that I’m capable of pushing past a small army of freakish creatures. I doubt they’ll be able guage my real power—but they will be ready."

"Fair…" He motioned his hands. "Well?"

"Seriously?" I asked dryly. "You get that this might be the last letter I ever send to my family, right?"

"You are communicating with the outside world mere weeks before the Harvest," Kyro said. "The fact that I’m blindly trusting you’re reading what you actually wrote is a sign of deep respect."

I thought about his words and found them reasonable, so I read on.

"I am confident in surviving the beasts of the forest, but I am terrified of the Harvesters. Not the business people who would rather see me alive for repeat business but the everyday neophyte looking to achieve wealth or glory."

"Oh, that’s good," Kyro said.

"I’ve recently read a book called The History of the Last Conquer about the Areswood Forest and its harvests and have learned that the Harvesters are quite cruel. It’s because the Harvest is the one time where obtaining a single rare herb or core can allow someone to obtain great strength or live out the rest of their days in luxury. Since no one’s watching them, the Harvesters are known to turn on one another. In the past, there have been full mutinies or conspiracies to leave people in the forest. And when desperate, those left behind have burnt down swaths of the forest to avoid poisons, only to attract hordes of beasts that got dozens or hundreds killed."

"How interesting," Kyro said. "Did you read that last night?"

I frowned.

"Oh, so you’re ly~ing. Quite elegantly at that. I’ll make sure to take that into consideration when appraising the trustworthiness of this alleged letter and all future correspondence."

The corner of my mouth twitched. "Look. I’m not lying, okay? Nethralis told me a lot of it—this is just an excuse. And besides, I’d wager a kidney that everything else’s accurate as well. Either way, I’m trying to… fuck, just listen. For this reason!" I raised my voice and then continued.

4.

"I’ve been preparing to defend myself should I need to," Doug read. "So if things go South, please don’t think I’ve gone feral. Also, tell Tyler… no, you’ll read him this so I’ll tell him directly: Do not, under any circumstance, come to the Harvest this year."

Tyler’s arm hairs waved upward like static electricity passed over them. Doug could tell he wanted him to stop reading around Tanya, but Doug couldn’t, so he pressed on.

"I’m sure that your teacher is trustworthy, and the Dante family’s power has been held in high regard, but I have a feeling it’ll be particularly nasty with the amount of resources I’m trading. Pushing aside the number of plants that cause acute paralysis here, just showing up makes you a target for extortion or future plots. It’s just not worth it. Not yet."

Tanya raised an eyebrow at her son. "You’re not going."

"Mom… Kalas is making me go."

"He’s not making you do anything."

"He is, I swear."

Doug felt very tired, so he skimmed the letter, praying for salvation, and he found hope. "That said, if you wait, I will lavish you with cores and soul meat that’ll turn you into a god amongst your peers as a reward."

Tyler’s eyes trembled.

"Defy me," Doug hammered in with a booming voice, "and you’ll be pissing regret for years because I won’t give you a goddamn thing."

Tanya smiled triumphantly, but to everyone’s surprise, Tyler’s face turned increasingly grave.

"Anyway," Doug said, pushing off the subject. "I won’t try to convince you that the weather’s brisk in hell or that I’m safe. The trials I face are daunting—but. But…

I’m almost there, Mom. I can feel it. I’m this close to freedom. By winter, I’ll have built a home, and I’ll have a garden by spring, hunting in the morning and studying plants in the afternoon. It’ll be a peaceful life.

And Dad, your daughter has moved out of the realm of studying plants and has officially become a full-blown chemist. I can’t wait to send you all the creepy and evil things I make in secret, so Mom can’t see.

Oh, and Tyler. You gotta stay alive because I’m going to teach you the craziest spells when I see you next. You’re gonna be a monster after our vacation."

Tyler’s grave countenance thawed, and he smiled slightly.

"And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Gatsby. I’ve recently met some doggos that’ll make you wag your tail and spin in circles. And one of ’em’s a looker, too. And who knows, cycle enough, and you might be able to court her."

Gatsby thumped his tail against the ground. Idiot dog was now smarter than Doug was. It was eerie.

"God… I miss you guys," Doug read. "Even with the down parts, I’m smiling just writing this. I can’t wait to visit and to bring you here when the garden’s tended and my barriers are set up. It will be a dream.

Anyway, Kline’s glaring down a massive killer bug, and shit’s about to get nasty. So I better go."

Tanya’s face drained of color at the thought of man-eating insects, but Doug brushed it off, thinking, She doesn’t sound that concerned if she’s still writing… How strange, completely oblivious to the fact that Mira was suicidally calling a legendary Drokai demigod a "bug" to his face.

"Just know that I love you," Doug said, voice trailing off as he concluded the letter. "I’m missing you, and I hope to see you soon. Wish your daughter luck, and keep me in your thoughts in prayers.

Your deeply irrational, recalcitrant, and stubborn daughter, also known as the creative, uncompromising, and all altogether persistent princess you’ve raised—Mira Hill."

Doug’s eyes welled with tears again, and he thought about everything he wanted to reply, but he couldn’t find the words. Neither could Tyler, whose expression was forlorn, or Tanya, who was still worried about the bug. So he closed his eyes and thought long and hard about it. He hoped she could wait for a bit, unaware that Mira wouldn’t be able to read it for a considerably long time.

5.

I smirked at Kyro. "Does that meet your approval?"

He was stonewalling me, as I expected, but his expression was far more complex than I thought it would be. It was captivating, an expression that was equal parts solid wall and bottomless well.

"What?" I asked.

"The letter was touching, it really was," he said without a hint of sarcasm. "But what’s this about the Dante?"

I swallowed, feeling a deep pang of foreboding seize my lungs. "Well, someone’s gotta protect my family, and it’d be pretty pointless if I didn’t get the strongest. So I paid the Dante. Or… the Oracle did. It’s who it recommended."

"I see."

"I take it you have history with them?"

Kyro smiled strangely. "If that book of yours actually exists… I think you should read it."

I got an ominous premonition as he turned around. "They’re on contract," I said. "Two years. Oracle bound them to it somehow. I think they’re safe… for now."

"Did you say something?" He asked as he flew away.

"No."

"Good! Now let’s get going. We gotta long journey ahead of us." Kyro whipped his hand, and the canoe flew out of some brush cover and slowly placed it into the water. Then he turned to Kline. "The deeper we go, the stronger the soul concentration becomes. You’re safe here, but try not to fall out."

I frowned. "What about me?"

"Oh, soul cores are exceptionally rare and yours is remarkably pure—you can survive well into the fifth domain. That’s the only reason Nethralis has entertained this suicide request. Now hurry up. Daylight’s ticking."

Kyro closed his eyes as he fluttered into the canoe, and the souls drifted away from it as if there was a negative magnet repelling the area.

"It’s a simple spell. You’ll be using it for the rest of the trip as training."

"Uh huh…" I nervously stepped into the boat, feeling it rock back and forth choppily as I sat down. It made me slightly queasy, and it got worse when Kline jumped into my lap and Kyro thrust an oar into my hand.

"Do you know how to row one of these?" Kyro asked.

"Uh… No…"

"And this is why it pays to have wings." He lay down the bow of the canoe. "I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Just remember that if you tip it, it could mess up your kitty cat."

Kline promptly jumped out of the boat, deciding that he would rather face down endless swaths of migrating beasts than trust my ability to row a canoe. The vote of no confidence was psychologically damning. Traitor.

Still, I couldn’t blame him. Our entire lives since coming to Areswood had been a series of life-or-death crises. There was no sense in asking for one more.

Bitterness welling in my heart, I pushed off the shore with the oar, drifting sideways into the water, only afloat by the grace of Kyro’s telekinesis, and then stabbed at the ground until it was facing the right direction.

Right then, when I was taking a breath, Kyro released his hold, and we started rocketing down the river of souls, pushing toward Tranea Crypt, where my journey with plant-based soulmancy would soon begin.