The Blessed Tree was the centerpiece of the Tanglesooth village. Its massive trunk was hollowed out, a network of carved tunnels going through its wooden body to connect to various facilities and safety shelters. High up on its branches were platforms and fortifications, meant for archers and casters to fight ¡ª which many goblins and trolls had begun doing, with pyromancers coming close enough to the living tree to be within attacking range.
This was their sanctuary when the Tanglesooth were under attack, and on other days, their home of origin, where all druids of their order had entwined their fates and magic with the Dryad¡¯s. The Blessed Tree exuded peace and tranquility ¡ª it was a sacred place respected by all. A place that demanded poise and dignity, where all spoke with utmost serenity.
It was supposed to be so, anyway.
¡°Move!¡± Emrys commanded two goblins guarding the entrance, the pair all but leaping out of his way as he barreled past. Another time, it would¡¯ve been an act of no small disrespect ¡ª but considering Seekit was darting beside him with an equally frantic pace, he was pretty sure nobody would mind. Gran certainly would let him off the hook.
If he could fix whatever Aodh did to Gran, that was.
You must see for yourself. Seekit¡¯s impassive voice came off as strained, Emrys practically feeling the loyal faunimal¡¯s stress over her bonded friend¡¯s state. Through large phloem-carved passages they traveled, Seekit leading the way. Lady Birog suffers from taint. She acts violently and with warped reason¡ª
¡°So I¡¯ve been told,¡± Emrys snapped, the rough texture of the floor scraping his bare feet. ¡°Is she fine? What did Aodh do exactly? Is it affecting you too?¡±
I suppressed our link. A strange snarl echoed through her mind-voice, Seekit¡¯s muzzle shifting as if it¡¯d rip open into an actual mouth to vocalize the sound. The silence maddens me nearly as much as Aodh¡¯s corrupted magic does. Pester me further and I may give in altogether.
Corrupted magic. Madness. Emrys gritted his teeth.
There was a series of mazelike pathways to the Dryad¡¯s chambers at the heartwood portion of the Blessed Tree¡¯s trunk, the most central part. Grandma Birog, the Dryad¡¯s Communer and her first line of defense, often kept watch at its entrance, though right now she would¡¯ve been making rounds to each of the shelters to check on their circumstances. Her status was practically on par with the chieftain¡¯s by nature of her role ¡ª for Aodh to attack her was an act of war on its own. To breach the Dryad¡¯s home thereafter¡ª
Why? Why would you ever act like this, Aodh?
Emrys had vaguely known the warrior. He was a somewhat stubborn person at times, and a little dense in the head too, but good-natured and loyal as well. A goblin and a druid who had taken his duty in ensuring the safety of their order with full diligence and devotion. Him turning his back like this, it was so unlike him. There must be an explanation to all this, an overly logical part of his head said.
He attacked Gran! the emotional part yelled back. He¡¯s violating the Dryad¡¯s privacy! What explanation is there?
Aodh wouldn¡¯t betray us, not in his right mind. He fought the Kindlefury, remember? He might have had remnants of their own magic upon him.
Which should¡¯ve worn off by this point, or our healers should¡¯ve taken care of! And their powers can¡¯t change one¡¯s magic anyway!
Him having corrupted magic doesn¡¯t mean he intentionally learned to wield such¡ª
He just betrayed us! He attacked Gran! Gran!
A wordless yell grabbed Emrys¡¯s attention, its aged yet sharp tone making his heart skip a beat. His inner voices of logic and emotion fused.
Gran.
Fear and love gave him wings. Emrys dashed past Seekit, turned a corner, and found Grandma Birog in the middle of the halls. Not far from the corridor that served as the gateway into the mazelike parts of the Blessed Tree, and the Dryad¡¯s abode.
Roots tied her up, the work of another goblin whose white-knuckled hands gripped her staff like a weapon ¡ª wielded by someone who clearly wasn¡¯t acquainted with fighting with it. A sickly purplish-red haze billowed from Gran¡¯s dark green skin, the stocky old goblin shifting her crazed, fiery eyes toward a stock-still Emrys. Her writhing ceased for a moment.
Then Seekit caught up, and Gran gnashed her teeth at her arrival. ¡°You! YOU!¡±
The haze solidified into spiked, monstrous vine tendrils, lashing out toward Seekit. The goblin holding Gran scrambled back, and Emrys gasped as he called upon his own root magic¡ª
But no need. Floating rocks crashed into the base of the tendrils and ripped them apart, Emrys turning to notice a troll too was amongst their group. His black robes and hairy figure belied his youth ¡ª he was possibly just a few years older than him, Emrys sensed. On the shorter side too, being not much taller than human men, though Emrys still barely reached his chest.
Two staffs were in his grasp. A gray staff of the Cragfall order, glowing with energy and with a plethora of jagged rocks of several sizes circling overhead, ready to strike if needed. And a decorated staff with vinelike patterns engraved on it.
Gran¡¯s.
Gran hissed at the troll, then at the goblin woman as she hastily conjured more roots, restraining her until she was practically cocooned in them. ¡°Treason! All of you, working with that slime Aodh and restraining me here!¡± she spat, before giving Emrys the stink eye. ¡°Even you, idiot boy! My ingrate of a servant girl bewitched you too, didn¡¯t she? After everything I¡¯ve done for you both!¡±
It dug a pit in Emrys stomach, hearing Gran¡¯s abnormal hostility ¡ª the small lacing of tenderness in her otherwise gruff voice was absent, with only vitriol left in its wake. Seekit too stiffened at the barbed words, the faunimal hovering a safe distance away from her. Perhaps out of wariness of the purplish-red haze oozing out of Gran and what it could do.
Or Gran herself.
The troll nodded to Emrys in a show of deference. ¡°This would be her grandson, mistress spirit?¡± he asked Seekit. ¡°I am Golmac, friend Emrys, and I¡¯m told we will need your skills. Mabel here has restrained your grandmother, but her healing touch does nothing against Kindlefury magic, I¡¯m afraid.¡±
¡°It¡¯s not Kindlefury magic.¡± The words tumbled out of Emrys¡¯s mouth before he could process them. He shook his head, approaching Gran with caution. ¡°It¡¯s similar, but it shouldn¡¯t be like this.¡±
Kindlefury magic was meant to empower oneself, after all, channeling rage into physical strength. The Kindlefury Druids were terrifying warriors bound to the Berserker, their spells able to infuse themselves with destructive, fiery abilities borne out of their anger. They also could mess with the minds of their enemies, making them fall into a blind rage and turn against each other without knowing. But the affliction Gran had wasn¡¯t quite the same.
Gran shouldn¡¯t be empowered herself by Aodh¡¯s magic. And she shouldn¡¯t have enough coherency to speak.
Emrys raised his staff, and Grandma Birog hissed, thrashing against her restraints. ¡°I¡¯ll have all your heads for this!¡± yelled Gran. ¡°Especially you, spirit! Craven coward, turning even my grandson against me! Prying away my staff from me!¡±
Mabel fumbled with her staff as a few bulges appeared in the roots holding her, bursting open to reveal yet more purplish-red vines of haze. Golmac tilted his staff in response, his rocks darting forward and ripping them apart. Emrys paled and ducked as one vine struck toward him, Golmac¡¯s rocks skewering it a half-second before it could turn to puncture his back. ¡°Your brethren will remember she who murdered the Tanglesooth!¡± Gran spat at Seekit. ¡°Open the link, you dumb servant girl, so I can give you the lashing you deserve!¡±
Seekit¡¯s eyelids flickered, her head twitching. Please hurry.
Please wasn¡¯t a phrase Seekit would use toward Emrys. Or anyone really. Overly personal stakes could do strange things to people.
Or the prospect of calamity marching upon our doorstep. With another possible calamity slinking its way into the deepest parts of the Blessed Tree too.
Emrys grunted, his staff glowing with a mist of a light jade hue. Seekit had brought him for reasons beyond familial relationships. He was no healer, and his root magic wasn¡¯t anything too impressive. But soothing the mind? That was his specialty.
He focused on Gran, and the mist billowed toward her, Gran choking as it lashed at the miasma leaking out of her. Emrys couldn¡¯t help but make a face ¡ª he could feel the way Aodh had messed with her mind, the manic aggression that addled her.
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He had been used to soothing the lingering effects of the magic the Kindlefury wielded. Their magic was like a branding fire, burning you into submission. This form of magic, however? It was subtler and more polluted, a disease that rooted itself deep into one¡¯s core and twisted the way they were meant to think.
Small wonder she¡¯s acting the way she is.
Extracting the disease with his magic proved rather difficult. Emrys pressed his magic onward, chipping away at the gunk of poisonous hatred that clogged the channels of Gran¡¯s mind, one piece at a time. ¡°Surely you could¡¯ve sent for another purifier druid,¡± he muttered to Seekit.
Few Tanglesooth share your talent, and they serve more critical roles in fighting off the humans. You know this.
The haze began to abate against his purity mist. Gran struggled the hardest she ever had, a small fury of hazy vines trying to rip themselves out of her cocoon. Golmac crushed and shredded them, and Mabel conjured yet more roots to patch the holes. Gran fired a loathing look at both, then at Emrys, estrangement twisting her features.
¡°Imbecile boy!¡± she said, her voice cracking. ¡°This is how you repay me? How you repay your parents?¡±
Emrys pressed his lips and pushed harder. His eyes threatened to water.
¡°He¡¯s down there, that cur Aodh! And you¡¯re conspiring with him, you filthy backstabbers! Curse you! Curse the Dryad ¡ª even she cuts herself off from my communications! Ingrates, every last one of you¡ª¡±
Emrys pushed hard, finding weakness in the taint, and the gunk collapsed. Gran recoiled as if physically struck, the purplish-red haze dissipating. Seekit shook with a start, as if finally free of a vicegrip that¡¯d been chafing her neck the whole time.
Lady Birog?
Gran¡¯s eyes blinked, swerving around at the faces observing her, then at her unfamiliar surroundings. A bothered grumble left her. ¡°I was supposed to be heading toward the western shelter,¡± she said. ¡°Curse you, Aodh. You can release me, Mabel, I¡¯m myself again.¡±
Mabel bit her lip, but an assertive nod from Seekit made the goblin woman heed the command. One moment later and the vines had retreated into seemingly nowhere, Gran pulling herself up at once. ¡°Gran,¡± breathed Emrys, stepping close to her. ¡°Are you fine?¡±
Gran snorted, before showing the back of her head toward Emrys. A dried purplish-red ooze lightly dyed it. ¡°The liar had been sneaking around, staff in hand, and I stopped him. Confiscated his staff and gave it to Seekit, then told him to explain his sudden lack of illness. Turns out the fungus-blighted trickster¡¯s far better than I thought at casting spells without a tool to focus his magic with ¡ª gave me quite the surprise.¡±
¡°You yourself were much more formidable than I expected, wise Fluxus Communer,¡± muttered Golmac.
¡°The Dryad, troll, we call her the Dryad. My staff?¡±
Golmac handed the staff over, Gran gripping it with a tight hand. ¡°I believe Aodh¡¯s touch made me say things I shouldn¡¯t have,¡± she said, tsking when Emrys and Seekit averted their gazes. ¡°Probably acted out in ways I shouldn¡¯t have either. Must be a good thing my grandson¡¯s not a complete failure at treating such hexes.¡±
It was a jab of sorts ¡ª but a light jab filled with praise and quiet affection, Emrys sighing in relief at its familiarity. He didn¡¯t retrieve his staff back, Lady Birog, commented Seekit. I kept it away, and you were too violent to deal with, so he opted to run off toward the Dryad¡¯s chambers.
Gran scoffed. ¡°Cowardice. How violent was I, dear Seekit?¡±
You struck me a few times when I urged you to stay put.
¡°Bah, of course I did. Aodh feigning sickness, only to play us like idiots at this dark hour! I won¡¯t let him take me for a fool again. Seekit, you¡¯ve done well by gathering these people to keep me in check, but I fear we may need more than us to handle this dire situation.¡±
Out of the cooking pot and into the metaphorical fire. Gran was well, thank goodness, but with her condition resolved, Emrys found himself confronted with the true danger at hand. The bleak, burning abyss that threatened to raze their home at its very roots.
Aodh¡¯s headed for the Dryad. With rage-inducing sorcery.
Mabel audibly gulped. ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry, u-us?¡± she spoke in a small voice. ¡°I don¡¯t t-think¡ª¡±
¡°Oh hush, girl, obviously not a bundle of nerves like you. Pray for our sakes and keep tending to the shelters ¡ª and keep your pretty lips quiet about Aodh causing trouble.¡± Gran flicked a hand. ¡°Well? Go on! Shoo!¡±
The goblin didn¡¯t hesitate a second longer, scrambling to her feet and hurrying back down the halls. Birog turned upon the others, expectant.
Emrys didn¡¯t need to be told twice. ¡°I am yours, Gran,¡± he declared.
¡°As am I,¡± the troll said, a gray palm over his robed chest. ¡°Call me Golmac, Dryad Communer. I had been injured while guarding the first boulder ring, and your healers had just released me when your spirit partner stumbled upon me, asking that I help Mabel suppress you.¡±
¡°Good that she did. I am Birog, young Golmac.¡± Gran shook her head. ¡°The Dryad¡¯s smothered her link to me, even more than Seekit did ¡ª I cannot reach her at all, but at least she already knows of Aodh¡¯s advance. She must¡¯ve sealed the passages down to her innermost sanctuary by now. I question if she can defend herself for long, however.¡±
She gave Seekit an inquiring look, to which she responded with a huff. We¡¯re tight on druids to stop the humans¡¯ siege. Pulling any out to handle Aodh seems unwise.
¡°Hm. Numbers won¡¯t help much anyway, Aodh¡¯s newfound magic would turn them against us. And I¡¯m not interested in letting word of Aodh¡¯s treachery demoralize the druids. A few faunimals, however, would be an asset¡ª¡±
Seekit bristled. They hardly care for the pleadings of a servant girl.
¡°They will care, because this is life and death. Try, Seekit, try.¡±
Bitter distress made Gran¡¯s gaze tremble. Emrys clasped her shoulder, Gran letting him hold her steady for a moment. A moment that could¡¯ve been spent chasing after Aodh, but instead spent on something just as valuable, if not more so.
On steeling themselves for what lay ahead.
Seekit inclined her head. For she who cared for me when my brethren did not, I will try.
¡°Be quick, dear.¡±
I shall, Lady Birog.
Off she darted, twice as quickly as when she arrived with Emrys. Gran wasted no further time, moving toward the entranceway to the Dryad¡¯s chambers. Emrys followed suit, Golmac lumbering behind at a pace that easily matched his, what with his larger stature. Away from the fires of their downfall they marched, and toward the poison that would fell their tree.
¡°Pardon me.¡± Golmac¡¯s voice made Emrys tilt his head, Gran slowing only the slightest bit to indicate she too was listening. ¡°Being not of your druid order, I fear I might not understand the full danger of this situation. This Aodh, was he a lawless person?¡±
Lawless. Ha. Far from it. ¡°It is extremely unlike him,¡± Gran stated. ¡°He was one of our nobler warriors. I still cannot fathom what prompted him to learn a form of magic similar to the Kindlefury¡¯s Berserker in secret, or why he takes such an abominably stupid action.¡±
They reached a living wood hallway of a darker shade than the rest of the carved-out tree. Vines covered its walls like a tapestry of muddled patterns and designs, and leaves and roots were etched into the floor. At the end stood a large double-door covered in even more vines.
Said door was bashed in, wood splintered apart to create a tear in between the locked doors. The vines surrounding the hole in the door were wilting, a purplish-red poison having eaten away their tips, much to Emrys¡¯s revulsion. Gran¡¯s expression was worse still, the silent rage she held almost an uncanny sister to her addled state while under Aodh¡¯s toxic influence.
¡°However.¡± She raised a gnarled finger. ¡°Whatever Aodh is doing, he wields magic much like the Kindlefury¡¯s, only twisted into a mold of his own shaping. And he dares to approach a Fluxus with that power.¡±
The Dryad. The source of the Tanglesooth¡¯s magic. Golmac fingered his heart, while Emrys gave out a pained groan. He looked at his staff, felt the power of the Dryad¡¯s purification using it as his medium, and feared what would happen if that purity were to be twisted.
¡°It¡¯s what I think it is, isn¡¯t it? Gran?¡± he asked.
¡°Think not, boy, and know it instead.¡± Gran strode toward the hole. ¡°If the Dryad goes mad from Aodh¡¯s tampering, it¡¯ll corrupt the magic we channel from her. The Tanglesooth will fall into chaos, and the humans will overrun us all.¡±
Aodh huffed, his cloak hung tightly around him as he hurried through the Dryad¡¯s maze. Transparent, purplish-red armor overlaid his cloak, complete with vine-like tendrils that slithered out of his back ¡ª a fusion of his native Tanglesooth magic with what he¡¯d taken from the Kindlefury.
Greenery, hanging vines, and glowing moss met him anywhere he looked, covering the dark heartwood that made up the maze¡¯s walls. Too many troublesome dead ends as well. The rage within him seethed, his tendrils snapping at nearby vines to make them wither at their ooze-like touch.
It took effort to push that rage away, Aodh forcing his tendrils to behave themselves. Not now. The rage mustn¡¯t take him.
Not enough things had gone to plan. It was just supposed to be a simple sneak-in! Go to the Dryad¡¯s chambers while Communer Birog wasn¡¯t around, reach the Dryad, and then have a polite and civil discussion on why he had just invaded her personal privacy in the middle of a war doomed to kill his people. Then he would make a proposal she would surely balk at, yet knew she needed to accept¡ª
But no. He had to mess that up and walk right into Birog. And then he had to panic and let emotional thinking get the better of him. Now he was missing his staff, and he had unnecessarily harmed the Communer.
The Dryad¡¯s general domain sense could overlook a lot of things. Intoxicating her Communer with rage miasma, however? There was absolutely no way the Fluxus guardian of the Tanglesooth would ignore such an act. She knew an intruder was coming.
Aodh couldn¡¯t help but scowl as he found himself confronted by a wall of conjured, tightly woven roots blocking off a pathway. He slowly approached, then leapt back when a series of roots jerked out of the earth to grab him. The Dryad was fighting him.
She¡¯s wasting time on me instead of the actual threat.
He had done a grave thing to Birog, and he was paying the price. Anger bubbled within Aodh ¡ª anger at himself for having failed this much, when everything rested on his shoulders. For having relied on such deception, only for it to amount to nothing. His tendrils howled at the thought, snapping at everything around them.
It couldn¡¯t be this way. No, this had to work! He had to salvage this. He would not accept this outcome! He had to, needed to¡ª
Breathe.
And so Aodh breathed, taking hold of his inner anger. He clasped the magic he¡¯d trained so long to figure out, the stolen energy he held within him, and turned his anger into resolve. His tendrils stilled, before winding up, poised like snakes charmed to serve at his command.
He ordered, and they lashed with precision, systematically lashing out at the roots converging on him. They all burned and crumbled at the acidic touch, Aodh breaking them apart with crushing strikes. He threw himself at the root barrier blocking his path, hacking it apart until a hole drenched in purplish-red ooze had been burnt through.
The obvious dead end at the other end ticked him off. Nearly did the rage consume him. Aodh shoved it back down.
Distractions. Curse you, Aodh. Everyone will die, and it¡¯s your fault.
A stray thought told him to turn back. To plead with Birog ¡ª but no, she wouldn¡¯t listen to his reasoning now. Surely her spirit helper, Seekit, would have gotten her someone to soothe her mind, and she¡¯d be planning to storm the maze after him.
There was only one way left now. He needed to reach the Dryad. Immediately. And he¡¯d tear down this entire forsaken maze to do so.
It¡¯s the only way forward.
He rushed down another corridor and prayed.
Chapter 3: Renegade
Goblin Haze, Druid Rage
Chapter 3: Renegade
The labyrinth beyond the locked doors teemed with abnormal greenery. Patches of moss carpeted the ground and walls, with bioluminescent pieces hanging upon the ceiling and creating a mystical shimmer to the place. Vines and bark-skinned roots grew everywhere, blanketing the area, and even little shrubs bizarrely grew out of the heartwood.
A few spots boiled with purplish-red splotches. Emrys inched away from them, his free hand settling against his chest.
Seldom had he seen the maze that surrounded the Dryad¡¯s resting place. Only once to bind himself to the Dryad¡¯s blessings, to be precise, and that had been in his childhood. It did look a little like how he remembered it as a kid, minus Aodh¡¯s tampering, though he certainly would be hard-pressed to figure out the route to the Dryad from just those fuzzy memories.
Grandma Birog, however, knew it like the back of her hand. The moment Golmac had squeezed through the broken doors, she began quietly moving through the branching paths with absolute confidence, like a master weaver working on the loom. ¡°We may have time yet,¡± she muttered. ¡°Aodh has his head start, but between his unfamiliarity with the Dryad¡¯s little maze and whatever blockades she would¡¯ve left, we will likely catch up to him before he can find his way down to the center.¡±
Her staff pointed toward a makeshift wall of roots blocking off one passage ¡ª or had been blocking it off, until purplish-red haze had burnt a hole straight into its center. ¡°Not even the right way,¡± Gran said with a tinge of mirth. ¡°Yes, such distractions will slow him down finely.¡±
Emrys allowed himself a little smile of his own, if only for a brief moment. Something about the monotonous beauty of the maze ate at him, its seemingly never-ending walls of firm heartwood mixed with expanses of greenery and pretty moss lights lending a liminal feel to the place. Like he had gotten trapped in some subspace world with no real escape.
He prayed Aodh felt the same way.
¡°What will we do?¡± Emrys blurted, adjusting his grip on his staff. His eyes shifted this and that way, wondering from what corner the warrior goblin druid would emerge from. ¡°When we find Aodh, what do we do with him?¡±
¡°Knock his teeth out. What, boy, you think we¡¯re to happily escort him back out and dance in the flower fields together like we¡¯re all good friends?¡± Gran clicked her tongue, muttering something Emrys thought was meant to be an insult of some sort. ¡°Any past loyalty Aodh has shown means little now. I will have him restrained, and the rest of you will see to it that he¡¯s rendered unconscious before he can retaliate¡ª¡±
¡°I mean after all that, Gran. If¡ª¡± Emrys frowned at his word choice ¡°¡ªwhen we take down Aodh, what do we do afterward?¡±
Gran held her tongue for a long moment. She pivoted to a side path, covered in roots damaged in purplish-red haze, and cast her own set of roots to hack away the rest of the barrier. ¡°Gotten further than I¡¯d have liked,¡± she muttered. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±
¡°Y-you don¡¯t know?¡±
¡°Boy, there¡¯s humans burning down our home outside, what makes you think I have the luxury to think about whether we¡¯ll execute Aodh or banish him or whatever?¡± Gran hissed, taking annoyance at her quiet outburst, before continuing. ¡°What I do know is that he¡¯s got much to fess up about. What¡¯s gotten into that young fellow, doing something like this? Is this Kindlefury getting the last laugh by making him into a turncoat, or did humans secretly put him up to this? How long has this been planned? I swear, I¡¯ve never been more flummoxed about anything in my life, even compared to all the dumb things you did to make my head spin, boy.¡±
Golmac held back a snort, Emrys rolling his eyes at the jab. Gran poking fun at him ¡ª strange how that could keep at bay the dread pooling in his stomach.
The ground had been sloping downward for a while now, Emrys had realized. It was sloping down a lot right now, in fact, wood transitioning to mud and packed dirt. He vaguely remembered that from his childhood days.
The Dryad¡¯s abode, it was said, was like the seed from which the entire base of the Blessed Tree had grown. Them having gone down meant something, didn¡¯t it? And so did the increased number of acidic splotches, having burnt through conjured walls of roots and greenery alike.
They were surely getting closer. To the Dryad, and Aodh too.
I can¡¯t stand all this anticipation. Again Emrys¡¯s eyes searched, waiting, wondering, worrying. The earth seemed to shake under his feet, making him sway. How much longer until Seekit returns? How much further need we go? Any more of this and I think I¡¯ll be leaping at shadows, expecting someone to show up¡ª
A giant plant maw burst out of the dirt, Gran yanking a startled Emrys away as it snapped up empty air. The eyeless head bared its grassy teeth, purplish-red haze leaking out in between the gaps and streaming around its head.
Oh.
Gran spent a precious half-second pinching her nose, before her staff came up. ¡°Fool Dryad!¡± she snapped, conjuring a flurry of thick roots that snaked out to clamp down on the plant head. ¡°Why would she send one of her maneater tunnelers toward Aodh? Boy!¡±
Emrys jolted, coming back to his senses. Golmac had already formed rocks out of thin air, the maneater snarling as he hurled them at its face. A distraction, which the enraged creature all too easily fell for.
It bit at the roots strangling its head, unable to pull it back down into the dirt, while a series of its thorny vines burst out to slice up Golmac. Emrys acted faster, his staff glowing with jade green mist, and the maneater tunneler hissed out as it grappled with the haze. Pure serenity warred with toxic fury, the monster redirecting its vines to stop Emrys¡¯s work, but Golmac¡¯s stones and Gran¡¯s roots kept him protected.
Filtering out Aodh¡¯s corruption proved easier than expected, in the end. Either the maneater tunneler¡¯s mind hadn¡¯t been as intoxicated as Gran¡¯s had been, or Emrys had already picked up on how to more efficiently root out the taint, but soon enough he had washed away the gunk clogging its mind. The maneater tunneler shook itself one last time, before regaining a sense of clarity. Its vines retracted back into the ground.
Slowly did its head turn toward Gran ¡ª as much as it could despite the roots trapping it. A rumbling noise left its mouth, expressing discomfort and shame. ¡°Oh, none of that, you old beast,¡± Gran responded. A quick wave of her staff and the roots unwound themselves, retreating into the earth and leaving the maneater tunneler free. ¡°Warn the Dryad and stay low for now, you won¡¯t be able to fight Aodh alone.¡±
The spawn of the Dryad were monsters in nature, not particularly intelligent ¡ª but they were loyal to their master, and her Communer by extension, and could understand commands well enough. The maneater tunneler obediently dipped its head, before burrowing itself back into the upturned earth. The little tremor it produced made Emrys shift his feet.
Golmac coughed. ¡°Dryad Communer Birog¡ª¡±
¡°Just Birog,¡± snapped Gran.
¡°¡ªthat fight we had with your Fluxus¡¯s defender, it made a ruckus, no? I fear we¡¯ve lost our element of surprise.¡±
The very air may as well have shifted, Emrys feeling like eyes were upon his back. At once his ears picked up on a not-too-distant rumbling noise, Gran scowling to herself.
¡°He¡¯s walling us off.¡±
She was right. A few twists and turns and they found themselves a barricade of sickly purplish-red roots blocking their way, a curse leaving Gran¡¯s lips. At once she summoned her own set of roots, thick and heavy, Gran bashing them against the wall until they ripped a hole through.
She moved through at once, her agility defying her age. Emrys hurried after, Golmac taking a moment to squeeze through. ¡°He can¡¯t do those quick enough without a staff to aid him,¡± she muttered. ¡°We¡¯re upon him now, and there¡¯s only so much he can do to delay us. Bah, Seekit, must you tarry still? I need your aid¡ª¡±
¡°Is she coming?¡± asked Emrys. ¡°How much longer?¡±
Gran squinted, as if deep in thought. Or rather in mental communication. ¡°She argues too long with her kindred,¡± she said, before blinking several times. ¡°Sadhbh? Sadhbh, you fool girl! What made you think sending your spawn against Kindlefury-like magic would help you? Hush, little Dryad, I know Aodh¡¯s right upon your doorstep!¡±
Sadhbh. Emrys¡¯s heart leapt ¡ª the maneater tunneler turned out to be a blessing in disguise. The Dryad had realized Gran was safe to commune with again.
Golmac tilted his head. ¡°Your tribe gave your Fluxus a druid name?¡± he whispered to Emrys. ¡°We never gave the Rock Giant one. Nor spoke so informally with him either.¡±
¡°Gran¡¯s like that,¡± stated Emrys. ¡°Their dynamic¡ª¡±
He cut himself off as another rumble sounded. A hiss went through Emrys¡¯s clenched teeth, irritation building up at all this trouble. Yet a part of him felt peace too, oddly enough. The sound was nearby ¡ª they really were right upon Aodh.
He must be desperate.
Gran hummed. ¡°Stall a little more, our dear Dryad,¡± she spoke aloud. ¡°I¡¯ll have Aodh handled soon.¡±
And so it was. Gran moved, and Emrys and Golmac followed all the way to the end, turning around a bend to find themselves face to face with a still-growing pile of roots that sought to implant themselves in the ceiling. Thinner than the last barrier too, with holes and slits left in between. And who stood behind those roots?
Aodh. A goblin of a bright green color in dark verdant robes, encased in transparent purplish-red armor. Tendrils extended from the armor, burrowing themselves into a wall of dense roots and brambles blocking his way. They sizzled as the tendrils left behind acidic ooze, burning through them.
It left Emrys at a loss, if only for a single moment. The fact that even without his staff, he could still conjure barrier roots, control the tendrils, and somehow make himself a layer of magic armor ¡ª was that some mimicry of the Armorbark¡¯s own powers, or a twisted, defensive manifestation of the Kindlefury¡¯s empowering rage? ¡ª it was undeniably impressive. Frightening too.
Then the warrior goblin hastily sidestepped as thorny roots sprouted out of the ground, his tendrils burning them away at once, and Emrys realized his newfound magic wouldn¡¯t be enough still. ¡°Oh, dear Dryad, must you fight me so?¡± Aodh said, a somber expression on his face as he glanced at Gran. ¡°Communer Birog, please, don¡¯t make this harder for me too.¡±
Honeyed words. From someone actively infiltrating the sanctuary of the Dryad, it made Emrys want to gag out. He and Gran raised their staffs.
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At once Aodh¡¯s tendrils snapped toward them, both groups and Golmac backing up as they poked through the gaps in the barrier roots between them. ¡°I¡¯d rather you didn¡¯t,¡± said Aodh, before dodging another set of spiked roots, a tendril removing them at once. ¡°Call off the Dryad¡¯s attacks, please.¡±
It was ridiculous, Emrys couldn¡¯t help but think. Here he¡¯d been, worrying himself sick about the danger Aodh posed ¡ª and he was certainly a danger, what with his rage-inducing poisons. But at the end of the day, he was a single aggressor fighting against the Dryad herself, fighting on a battlefield suitable for her. The Tanglesooth were trappers, and in such tight corridors, Aodh was as good as trapped. Even his own barrier, in a way, served to work against him.
He was in a bind. Metaphorically so, at the moment, and soon to be literal. ¡°Dispel your magic and turn yourself in, Aodh,¡± snapped Gran.
Aodh sighed. ¡°I regret striking you earlier, if it means anything.¡±
¡°I said to stand down, traitor! There¡¯s a pyromancer army out there¡ª¡±
¡°Precisely, Birog, why I need to do this! Curse it all, running into you made everything so much worse¡ª¡±
¡°Down, Aodh! Before I¡ª¡±
¡°One minute!¡± insisted Aodh. Yet another group of roots lashed out from beneath the earth, sweat glistening on Aodh¡¯s forehead as he shredded them a half-second before they snagged his legs. ¡°One minute to explain myself, Birog. At least let me do one thing right tonight.¡±
For Aodh to have the gall to ask for such mercy, cornered as he was, it made Emrys bristle. Yet Grandma Birog, strangely enough, took a moment to actually consider it. ¡°Dispel your magic,¡± she said.
¡°Make the Dryad stop,¡± countered Aodh.
¡°You first, traitor.¡±
Aodh ruminated on that for a full second, eyes twitching toward the thick barrier separating him from the Dryad. Impenetrable in his current state. He sighed.
¡°It doesn¡¯t matter anyway. Honesty¡¯s the only way forward now.¡±
The tendrils retreated back into Aodh¡¯s armor, which flickered before vanishing. The thin root wall separating both sides remained, but considering that just ensured that he wouldn¡¯t escape, it didn¡¯t really matter. Gran went quiet for a moment, before motioning to him with her hand.
¡°The Dryad hears. Speak.¡±
The warrior¡¯s haggard eyes flickered between a leery Gran, a frowning Golmac, and Emrys, who shot him an unpleasant, just-get-on-with-it look. ¡°I feigned sickness when word of the pyromancer humans came out,¡± he said. ¡°To avoid being called for combat, and so I could quietly slip in here when the battle came to our doorstep. It was dishonorable, I know.¡±
¡°You took the tricks of the Kindlefury,¡± said Gran. ¡°Then twisted them into something more awful¡ª¡±
¡°Can we defeat them?¡±
The sudden question made Gran grimace, an action Emrys shared. Not quite the question he expected Aodh to give out, what with his treachery.
¡°Your faunimal spirit, Birog, she isn¡¯t here. Calling for backup, isn¡¯t she? She must¡¯ve seen ¡ª ask her. Or the Dryad herself. She would¡¯ve surely sensed the changes in her domain.¡±
Gran did, squinting with lidded eyes. The hand holding her staff shook.
¡°Our druids are losing ground at the second of our three rings,¡± she said. ¡°They¡¯ll likely have to retreat soon.¡±
Golmac made a face. ¡°Too soon.¡±
Definitely too soon. The druids can¡¯t keep up defenses at the second ring? thought Emrys with a start. It was holding perfectly fine not too long ago! It shouldn¡¯t have¡ª
And yet it had. Even with the trolls and their stone magic assisting them, even with the faunimals fighting out of distaste against the firebending marauders, even with the Dryad¡¯s power, it wasn¡¯t enough. If this kept going, the Blessed Tree would be swarmed within a few hours at most.
It¡¯s not enough.
¡°Your forces aren¡¯t enough.¡± Aodh let himself slump against the earthen wall behind him, like a prisoner waiting for his execution. Either by his own people¡¯s hands, or the hands of humans. ¡°I knew that. I feared that.¡±
Gran cocked an eye at him. ¡°What are you doing?¡±
¡°What am I doing?¡± Aodh crossed his arms. ¡°Birog, the Dryad is the weakest amongst the Fluxi in this area. She is a pure creature, meant to heal, not to fight. Every skirmish with the Kindlefury we¡¯ve had made me all the more aware of how much she must rely on traps and cunning that cannot protect us forever. Every skirmish with them, I¡¯ve made a point of studying the way the Kindlefury conduct their magic, so that I could learn to use a variation of it without needing the Berserker to channel it like they do.¡±
The warrior straightened himself, just a little. A quiet fire sparked in his eyes.
¡°We have little time. To save our people, Communer Birog, I will teach the Dryad how to utilize my magic for herself. I will make my abilities become the Tanglesooth¡¯s to command.¡±
A short, strange silence held in the crisp air of the nature-filled maze at the center of the Blessed Tree. Golmac furrowed his brows, Emrys found himself pursing his lips, and Gran was balking at the statement Aodh meant.
¡°You want to teach the Dryad your magic,¡± she said.
¡°Correct,¡± said Aodh.
¡°Knowing full well it will take time for her to do such a thing.¡±
¡°She can absorb it¡ª¡±
¡°A Fluxus may be magical by nature, you oaf, but they cannot just learn a new form of magic! The only way you could possibly do that¡ª¡±
¡°Is through my poisons.¡± Aodh raised a finger. ¡°Listen to me, Birog. You gained rage-related abilities when I tampered with your mind, did you not? Weren¡¯t you still somewhat yourself, despite your madness? You were overdosed.¡±
The implications reached Emrys at once, realization dawning upon him. It had been strange that Gran wielded her own abilities from the taint she¡¯d been infected by. And that she still had enough of an ability to speak. Much of her speech had been addled rancor, yes, but the more he thought of it¡ª
It was still her. Only she let loose the most extreme and unhinged side of her thoughts. The poison had brought out the darkest parts of her.
Gran seemed to understand too, though her scowl only deepened all the more for it. ¡°I mean to give the Dryad a far smaller dose, which she can absorb and take full control of,¡± stated Aodh. ¡°Let me tell you a little something: the Kindlefury train themselves to resist the temptation of mindless rage when channeling the power of their Berserker. It is a guarded secret of theirs. I myself had to learn to resist my impulses, learning how to appropriately direct my angry feelings in order when wielding my abilities. And I can show the Dryad how to do so! I can! I must!¡±
His hands clasped themselves, a desperate part of Aodh digging itself out. ¡°I beg you, Birog. And I beg you, Dryad ¡ª you hear me, don¡¯t you? The poison will inflame your rage, but anger is a tool that can be controlled for a greater good, if one only knows how to! I will help you take control of it, and you¡¯ll be able to save our druid order! Please, you must!¡±
He was earnest. Somehow, Aodh really believed this was the solution to their problems: offering a power with dangerous ramifications if improperly used, yet could be enough to turn the tide. Emrys glanced at Golmac, the troll ruminating deeply over the warrior goblin¡¯s plan.
¡°It could work, couldn¡¯t it?¡± he considered.
It could. And against the bleakness of their situation, Emrys too found himself debating the necessity of such a last resort. The Kindlefury¡¯s magic was a powerful asset to their druid order, and if what little he¡¯d seen of Aodh¡¯s skills were to transfer over to the Dryad¡ª
She would be a force to be reckoned with.
And by extension, so would the Tanglesooth, for they drew from her well of magic. Her maneater tunnelers too would be affected, what with their link with the Dryad.
And yet.
Gran slowly shook her head. ¡°The Dryad wishes not to harm her own people.¡±
¡°She will not,¡± insisted Aodh. ¡°I will make sure of it.¡±
¡°Your poison will taint not just her, but all of us Tanglesooth Druids.¡±
¡°Not as long as she remains stable! The Berserker was an anchor point to the Kindlefury, and with the Dryad¡¯s natural purification magic, she will be even better at keeping our people in check! Please, she¡¯s too weak as she currently is¡ª¡±
¡°Too many variables, too many risks. Our druids aren¡¯t prepared for a sudden shift in their magic ¡ª you¡¯ll kill us before the humans do! You¡¯ve had more than a minute, Aodh.¡±
Gran raised her staff. It began to glow.
And then Golmac cried out. ¡°Behind!¡±
Too late. Emrys¡¯s head shifted just in time to find a purplish-red root right behind Gran, latching onto her staff. The old goblin yelped as it yanked it out of her grasp, flinging it immediately toward the half-built wall of roots separating their trio from Aodh.
The warrior had already stretched his hand out, clasping the staff. And then the pandemonium began.
It took a second for Emrys to process himself encased in a cocoon of purplish-red roots, his staff stolen out of his grasp as well. He struggled and writhed, but too tight were the roots, his cloak pressed against his form. With a little difficulty, he could move his head just enough to find Golmac yelling out, the troll throwing himself against his own cocoon of roots. His staff was missing too.
Gran too was trapped in her own prison, her feeble might unable to do her any good in freeing herself. ¡°Aodh!¡± she shouted.
Aodh¡¯s tendrils and armor had instantly reformed, their staffs claimed by three of the tendrils. A flurry of roots burst out of the earth, clearly the Dryad¡¯s panicked retaliation, but Aodh destroyed them all too easily with his many tendrils, which began ripping apart the barrier between him and her. Veins in his forehead bulged, determination written on his face.
And a quiet, shimmering anger. The first time he¡¯d shown such emotion in their interaction thus far, Emrys realized, a veiled fury that almost reminded him of the Kindlefury. ¡°Our order is dying, and our allies too,¡± he said. ¡°Hate me if you will, but this must be done.¡±
His tendrils struck the Dryad¡¯s barrier all at once, and Emrys felt his soul drop into a deep crevasse as splinters scattered, the roots cracking apart. Aodh ran off to meet their Fluxus.
¡°Aodh!¡± Emrys struggled harder still, all the more lost for what the warrior goblin had done. For how he¡¯d taken the most roguish, treacherous, ill-planned course of action in his wish to save the Tanglesooth. ¡°Aodh, you can¡¯t!¡±
No response. He was too far gone.
He¡¯s going to make everything worse!
Aodh had their staffs. Nothing would stop him from tainting the Dryad. Forcefully so.
He¡¯ll mess up her mind!
That abject fear made Emrys scream inside, the goblin doing everything he could to break out of his prison. He kicked with what little space he could, wriggled as much as possible, ignoring the utter futility of such an action.
He knew not how long he did so, only that he had scraped his throat in the process, his voice gone dry. But his body kept up the fight his voice couldn¡¯t manage, trying to wrest back his freedom, inch by inch. He pushed himself, fighting out of a single-minded will¡ª
Look at them! Ha!
Tanglesooth meat sacks and a smelly troll, all tangled up!
Ooh! Were their funny magic sticks not enough to take down a itty bitty goblin?
Emrys twitched, a trio of faunimals swirling over his face with large mischievous eyes, their forms being that of a chipmunk, a badger, and a rabbit. Behind them, Seekit glared with disdain, the fox spirit carrying with her a staff of light brown decorated with small bits of leafage.
Aodh¡¯s staff. Emrys¡¯s despair reversed course, turning into a rising glimmer of hope.
I thought to bring a spare. Seekit handed the staff to Gran, her hands clumsily grasping its handle as best as she could despite the confines of her prison. It appears I was wise to.
¡°Very wise.¡± Grandma Birog channeled through the staff, and roots sprouted out of the ground to break apart the purplish-red ones trapping their group, Emrys breathing a great sigh of relief as his hands and legs found their freedom. ¡°Well done, Seekit.¡±
Seekit preened a little, before taking annoyance at the giggles and snickers of the other faunimals. Aw, look at the pampered old maid! said the chipmunk.
Servant girl! Servant girl! taunted the badger.
She can¡¯t live without chaining herself by the neck to coots even older than her! said the rabbit. Such a busy slave! So boring!
If faunimals had teeth, Emrys knew Seekit would be grinding them together right now. ¡°Fae creatures,¡± Gran grumbled, before conjuring roots to destroy the thin barrier Aodh had left behind, hastening onward. ¡°We¡¯ve no time for this.¡±
Emrys, Golmac, and Seekit hurried along. The faunimals jeered, making a mockery of Gran¡¯s cranky voice, but otherwise followed right behind them. Even with their childish natures, they too had enough of a mind to understand the gravity of the situation.
¡°He¡¯s got our staffs.¡± Emrys looked to Gran for solace. ¡°Do we even have a chance against him?¡±
¡°Against a skilled warrior, with only one staff of our own and a few faunimals? I fear we¡¯re as good as lost, boy. But¡ª¡±
Gran snapped in Seekit¡¯s direction, the fae spirit darting over to rest her paws upon her head. Her eyes squeezed in concentration, her form shimmering, and Emrys had a double-take as the green light emanating from the staff Gran held briefly turned a shade of magical blue, similar to the color of the faunimals.
Her brethren reacted similarly, Seekit quietly drinking in their collective surprise with a tinge of smugness. ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯ll make it easy for him,¡± finished Gran.
Chapter 4: Recompense
Goblin Haze, Druid Rage
Chapter 4: Recompense
Roots burst out everywhere. Aodh¡¯s tendrils crushed them mercilessly.
His armored feet padded against dirt and moss, Communer Birog¡¯s staff in hand and glowing with sickly green energy mixed with wisps of purplish-red. Behind him, he cast a barricade of roots, one after another, their tangled mess a backup defense in case the Communer escaped her bindings. She had enough skill to do so without a staff ¡ª but hardly enough to get through so many blockades without her staff at hand.
Aodh wistfully eyed said staff, then the ones he had pilfered from her grandson and the troll accompanying them, held in two of his tendrils. A part of him tsked, considering he should¡¯ve scrambled their minds while he was at it. Just in case.
The other part of him refused. No. He¡¯d done enough harm. And for better or worse, there was still one more wrong to do, in order to right everything.
Just you and me, dear Dryad.
A few of her own hastily built barricades stood in the way. He ripped them apart, the way he ripped apart the Dryad¡¯s clumsy attempts to strike him down with her root magic. Pitiable. She knew her craft well enough, but she couldn¡¯t handle the force of nature he had become.
Her maze had run its course too. In little time, he had left behind its many dead ends, the path in front opening up to her innermost sanctum ¡ª an underground garden of beauty and grace. Little blades of grass sprouted like hair, covering the earth. Small pools of water touched the sides of the garden, and trimmed shrubs and pink flowers scattered themselves in elegant patterns around the area. Giant wooden roots of the Blessed Tree snaked out of the ceiling and draped down the walls, complete with curled vines and draping leafage.
Resplendent glowing moss completed the scenery. Attached to the tree roots and green-laden walls, their light filtered through the area from every side ¡ª and brought attention to the depression in the center of the room, a slightly shaded patch of upturned earth.
The Dryad rested there, a goblin-sized figure with vine-woven hands clasped in front of her. The spirit that gave the Tanglesooth their innate magic wore an elaborate robe woven with dark green leaves that covered her body in full, complete with hoods shrouding her three toothy, maw-like heads that heavily resembled her maneater tunnelers. Or rather, it was better to say the tunnelers resembled her.
Vines hung from her robe, extensions of herself that were buried into the earth. Eyeless as she was, Aodh knew she could see him as clear as day. She naturally could sense all things in her domain, from the Blessed Tree to the village and forest encircling, but she saw him especially. No, specifically. Her heads turned as one, the Dryad frowning at his unwelcome intrusion.
¡°Sadhbh.¡± Restless and stressed as he was, Aodh wasn¡¯t one to ignore courtesy. He placed a hand over his heart, in affirmation of his loyalty. ¡°My Dryad.¡±
¡°You name me in vain.¡± Only the middle head spoke, the Dryad¡¯s smooth voice strained and sullen. ¡°You come to infect me, warrior.¡±
¡°I come to offer salvation.¡±
¡°By intoxicating me with the rage of the Berserker?¡± The Dryad¡¯s vines writhed, and she let out a hum, heads tilting downward. ¡°Hold yourself, tunneler. We cannot hope to best this goblin.¡±
Aodh could almost hear the hostile rasp of the maneater tunneler surely beneath him, clearly agitated at the truth in the Dryad¡¯s words. ¡°The pyromancers are overrunning us,¡± said Aodh, striding forward. ¡°This is necessary, my Dryad. Risky, yes, but risks are all we have left.¡±
¡°Risks without rewards are worthless. Do you really mean your loyalty? Surely you would not waste your time then, forcibly pumping your cursed magic into me.¡± The Dryad leaned forward, her side-heads hissing in muted startlement. ¡°You wield a piece of the Berserker.¡±
Aodh froze up, tendrils rearing back. ¡°What?¡±
¡°I know what the essence of a Fluxus feels like!¡± snarled the Dryad. ¡°You have experience breaking into their resting places, have you not? I have felt Kindlefury magic before, but you wield something more than mere magic. It was during your last skirmish at their village, wasn¡¯t it?¡±
She could see. Oh goodness, she could see.
It hadn¡¯t occurred to Aodh that she¡¯d notice such a thing. Was that a part of her Fluxus nature? Could she innately sense the power woven into the Berserker¡¯s literal being, a power that he¡¯d stolen right under the Kindlefury¡¯s noses? ¡°I-I¡ª¡±
¡°Defiler! You tore into his heart!¡± The Dryad¡¯s hands elongated into whip-like vines. ¡°All this for your concocted plan to warp my own?¡±
¡°He was a thorn in our backs anyway! I neutered him and his druids! What would be wrong in¡ª?¡±
¡°In turning an enemy into a war-maddened nemesis? If the pyromancers had not wiped them out, they would be the ones coming here, tearing the Tanglesooth out of furious vengeance!¡±
¡°And I would give you their magic, and we¡¯d repel them for good!¡± Aodh¡¯s tendrils wriggled with indignation, the goblin barely managing to contain his bubbling anger. Darn it all, this was why he hadn¡¯t wanted anyone to know the full truth about his newfound magic ¡ª there wasn¡¯t a soul who would take it well. ¡°It was an opportunity, my Dryad! I was struggling greatly in my attempts to mimic their powers, and taking from the Berserker¡¯s essence¡ª¡±
¡°¡ªwiped out the Kindlefury.¡±
The dark, brooding tone in the Dryad¡¯s voice put a dampener on Aodh¡¯s inner rage, replaced by hollowness. A tinge of dark, vicious satisfaction too, but he pushed that way. ¡°Effectively, yes. I did.¡±
He had studied this during his search for a way to integrate the Kindlefury¡¯s magic into himself. A Fluxus¡¯s body was not the Fluxus itself, but rather their spherical hearts. They were core-shaped entities grafted with magic, their true essence lying within those cores. One could learn general magic abilities on their own, given lots of time and effort, but the Fluxi could shape magic into specific forms and make it far more accessible.
With all the roadblocks in creating the Kindlefury¡¯s rage powers from scratch, he had decided to take a shortcut: using a skirmish in their village as cover so that he could sneak into the Berserker¡¯s hidden sanctum, then absorb his essence for himself. Stealing a portion of his core didn¡¯t kill him, of course ¡ª while he had planned to end the insufferable threat to his home himself, Fluxi were horrifically resilient even with their very lifeforce damaged, and the Berserker¡¯s wrath had forced him to count his blessings and escape while he could.
But it had crippled the Berserker and the Kindlefury, at least temporarily. And with their weakened magic, the sudden appearance of pyromancer soldiers from an invasive human kingdom proved too much for them to handle.
The Dryad shook her heads. ¡°I wondered how they could have lost,¡± she said. ¡°Their rage spells would have ruined the human forces. Now they are nothing but slaves and corpses, like the Armorbark. And here we are, paying the price for their defeat.¡±
Chills. Aodh dispelled the thought of it at once, but the Dryad¡¯s sinister implication messed with him. Had you not tampered with the Kindlefury, the pyromancers would¡¯ve been crushed by them, a traitorous voice whispered. You doomed us in your zeal for power.
¡°N-no.¡± Aodh stiffened, hating himself for the stutter in his voice. Hating the Dryad¡¯s casual condemnation. His tendrils slithered toward her, burning up the greenery in her underground patch of paradise, and with a start he smothered that hate down. ¡°No, my Dryad, we haven¡¯t yet.¡±
¡°I feel their lives lost, warrior. I feel the scorched earth above, the flames that strip away buildings and clothes and flesh. The breaking of links between my druids and I.¡± The Dryad¡¯s voice quavered, tearing up at the thought. ¡°The broken links hurt the worst.¡±
¡°Let me fix this then! If I¡¯ve sinned, then let me atone for it!¡± Resolution kicked in, Aodh moving forward once more. ¡°You are angry, I know you are! You rage within at how useless you feel!¡±
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The Dryad¡¯s side-heads spat dryly. ¡°My spawn have fought. My roots have fought. I have lost count of whom we have killed, and it will never be enough.¡±
¡°It will be! Turn that fury into resolution, and you will be unstoppable! We will be unstoppable! Take the poison, Sadhbh¡ª¡±
¡°Do not call me that.¡±
¡°¡ªand through it, a sliver of the essence of the Berserker that I hold! You can absorb it for yourself, can you not? I stole it so that I could give it to you! So that you¡¯d never feel weak again, my Dryad! Just a drop of my poison, please!¡±
¡°You never lied about being sick.¡±
Aodh grimaced. ¡°I-I¡ª¡±
Yet again the Dryad seemed to see through him, knowing things she shouldn¡¯t know. ¡°His essence was too much for you, yes? Even now, rage muddles your mind. It grips you. You spent your sick days learning to control it.¡± The Dryad raised her whiplike vine arms toward him. ¡°Please leave. I do not have days.¡±
Curse it all. He wished he had days. The pyromancers had forced him to rush things.
¡°Even a drop of poison can ruin a well. What you wield is worse than poison, conniving warrior. It is assured destruction.¡±
No. This needed to be done. Aodh kept moving forward.
The Dryad watched him come. Not with anger, but with sadness. ¡°A Fluxus gone mad is a heinous thing,¡± she said. ¡°Would you really unleash such a monster upon the world?¡±
Hesitation. He hated the hesitation. The tendrils hissed¡ª
Focus! He snapped at himself. Don¡¯t lose yourself here, Aodh!
¡°Would you force me to take the Berserker¡¯s essence, knowing I will surely lose myself in the process? Just as my druids will?¡±
Aodh gritted his teeth. Anger into resolve. Anger into resolve! He had to¡ª
¡°Would you make me suffer?¡± The Dryad¡¯s voice was but a royal whimper. ¡°Make me a voiceless being in a monster wearing my flesh? Make me scream in silence as it commands a legion of rage, destroying everything I hold dear?¡±
¡°Shut up! SHUT UP!¡± Aodh snapped, his tendrils flaying the earth. They would¡¯ve snapped at her, if not for his will ¡ª his burning need ¡ª to right everything. ¡°You¡¯re a spirit of purity! Your powers can cleanse anger¡¯s taint! Take my poison and save our people¡ª¡±
At once his tendrils snapped around, striking down balls of light. Instinct made him dodge as thorned roots exploded out of the ground beneath, Aodh baring his teeth as he found Communer Birog striding out of the entrance to the Dryad¡¯s chambers. With his staff.
His staff. His staff! The one her faunimal fox Seekit stole from him, the sly cur!
Said faunimal hovered over her shoulder with impassive eyes, a trait shared by Communer Birog. As it was with her grandson and the troll helper, who came into view behind her. So fixated was Aodh on them¡ª
Oopsie!
Mine!
Nice staff you have!
¡ªthat the other three faunimals blindsided him, Aodh raging as he found Birog¡¯s helper¡¯s staffs stolen away by the chipmunk and badger faunimals, with the rabbit prying Communer Birog¡¯s staff out of his hands. ¡°No!¡± he yelled, tendrils yanking both the staff and the startled spirit back.
Purplish-red ooze secreted out of the tendrils and pierced the rabbit. She screeched, shaking her head like mad, to the horror of the chipmunk and badger.
Hey!
He hurt her!
Haze coated the rabbit¡¯s head like a toxic flame. She wildly dove at the twosome, and they scattered. ¡°Hey, give us our staffs first!¡± yelled her grandson Emrys.
Seekit huffed, before placing her paws upon Communer Birog¡¯s head, eyes shut. The green glow of her pilfered staff transitioned toward a shimmering blue, and Aodh raised his brows in trepidation.
¡°Hold me in case I collapse, Emrys,¡± the Communer told her grandson.
Rage armor, it turned out, was enough to cushion him against a literal blast of blue vine-like beams. Aodh crashed to the ground, the goblin wincing at the burning sensation rubbing against his chest and summoning a pile of roots in front of him for cover ¡ª before raging inwardly as the laser beams burned through his makeshift shield. The spirit could empower the Communer to alter Tanglesooth magic into something more akin to a faunimal¡¯s light-based magic?
Judging from the other faunimals¡¯ floored expressions ¡ª even the rabbit was gawking, her madness briefly spurned at the unexpected sight ¡ª they hadn¡¯t known of such a thing either. A result of the magical bond between Birog and her spirit? Why hadn¡¯t he ever seen this before? Darn it, why hadn¡¯t anyone else known about this?
Because the Communer would obviously hold secrets in case the Dryad¡¯s home was breached! a weary, rational side of him snapped back. And how could anyone else hope to do the same thing? The hatred most faunimals have for binding themselves to another soul¡ª
Another beam struck. Aodh howled and repaired his root wall, before spinning about with a mindless cry as he found the Dryad fleeing, her vines pulled out of the earth and hanging like tentacles around her. The Fluxus had moved to the walls of her sanctum, a maneater tunneler by her side and burrowing a hole through the earth.
She was doing the unthinkable ¡ª leaving her very own sanctum. Just to escape him.
No! NO! SHE CAN¡¯T!
Rage boiled over, complemented by desperation. Aodh leapt to his feet and bolted forward, purplish-red haze gathering around the staff he held. Roots burst out of the earth, and stones floated overhead, positioned to strike¡ª
Blighted faunimals, giving Birog¡¯s helpers their staffs back! he hissed to himself.
¡ªbut he wasn¡¯t having any of it. At once his tendrils burnt and snapped apart approaching roots, while striking rocks with enough ferocity to break them into pebbles. Light beams flew, and he brought up his own roots to cover him.
Which Birog¡¯s grandson Emrys countered by summoning roots to destroy his own, because of course. A laser crashed into Aodh¡¯s back, and the goblin tumbled into a roll. He spun around, glaring daggers at the boy, her grandmother, and their troll. At the faunimals.
¡°ENOUGH!¡± He swung his staff, and the group scattered as his purplish-red roots swarmed them. Then he turned back, and the maneater tunneler screeched as he slammed a thick root against its head. Other roots locked it in position, to keep it from burrowing.
The Dryad¡¯s side-heads eyed the tunneler and hissed, her own roots conjuring forth to free her spawn. Aodh scoffed, a tendril greedily stretching out.
It pierced the tunneler. It went mad too, thrashing in its binds.
¡°You can¡¯t escape our fates!¡± Aodh growled, berating himself many times over for the crack in his voice, for the weakness within him. ¡°Take the Berserker¡¯s power if you care for us, stubborn Dryad!¡±
The Dryad stared with eyeless, soulless gazes. With her tunneler gone wild, she could hardly hope to escape now. She was but a cornered rat.
A rat that fought in insolence, instead of accepting what needed to be done. The vines hanging around her robe pierced the earth.
The flurry of vines and roots that sprouted forth were but a futile protection. Aodh ripped them to shreds, a few tendrils snapping backward to deflect the chipmunk and badger faunimal¡¯s light spheres. Haze ominously spewed out of his staff, roots bursting out to strike at the duo along with Communer Birog and her allies, their group too busy with his assault to properly retaliate. His eyes saw red, Aodh sparing no expense to take out every trifling nuisance trying to delay him. To delay the humans¡¯ defeat.
¡°Every second you take will kill another of our people!¡± he yelled at the Druid, tendrils all but converging on her. ¡°Take my power! TAKE IT OR ELSE!¡±
The Dryad feared him. She should.
¡°I¡¯M HELPING YOU, COWARD! DON¡¯T MAKE ME FORCE IT DOWN YOUR SOUL!¡±
Fungus-blighted Dryad. He was doing the right thing! Why could nobody see that? Why couldn¡¯t she? It was their only chance at survival!
¡°TAKE IT!¡±
The Dryad huffed. Her vine-arm snaked out like lightning, reaching for his staff.
Aodh¡¯s tendrils grasped it just as quickly. They nearly sliced through ¡ª but the desire within him was beyond anger. For a greater cause, he restrained himself from repeating the sin he¡¯d done upon Communer Birog.
Anger into resolve. He stabbed a droplet of ooze through.
Oh, so bittersweet was her haunted cry. The eerie silence that followed. Finally! The deed was done! Half the war, finished at last, and no meddlers could do anything to stop it. The Berserker¡¯s power, given to a soul far more deserving of it! A drop of his essence was more than tolerable, and it was all she needed¡ª
Aodh buckled, the haze within him half-fading. His armor lost much of its cohesion, both it and his tendrils growing translucent. The anger felt distant, like a mere buzz in his ear.
Something deep within him felt broken, like he¡¯d been ripped apart from the inside out. His heart? No, something more profound. His soul, perhaps, and the magic infused with it.
He reached for the Berserker¡¯s essence locked within him. He only found scraps.
What?
The Dryad snarled and gnashed her teeth, and Aodh paled. Haze leaked out of her mouth and body like a plague. His eyes darted toward Communer Birog, rasping as haze addled her, then Emrys, his raised staff glowing with purity directed at himself. The troll and faunimals, unaffected by their lack of a tether to the Dryad, wore a myriad of troubled expressions.
The Berserker¡¯s essence was ripped out of him. Just a drop of poison, and yet she had somehow drunk more than that.
She sapped the essence? On her own volition? Or¡ª
Aodh felt his breath being constricted. It took a moment to realize that was the Dryad¡¯s vine arm, pulsing with purplish-red veins and tightened around his armorless neck.
¡°Fine.¡± The Dryad¡¯s voice came out guttural, its usual softness lost in her furious hostility. ¡°Have it your way, scum.¡±
Something was wrong. This shouldn¡¯t be happening! His rage had addled him, yes, but he¡¯d still been careful at the end! It was just a drop! ¡°My Dryad¡ª¡± cried Aodh.
Purplish-red roots ripped out of her arm and pierced through his armor, flesh, and life.
Chapter 5: Requiem
Goblin Haze, Druid Rage
Chapter 5: Requiem
Emrys hissed, the grip of rage seizing his heart pricking him like needles. Purity mist combated the purplish-red haze leaking out of his head, keeping him afloat as he kept cleansing himself.
Thank goodness he still could call upon the Dryad¡¯s mind-cleansing abilities, and that it worked despite the rage being inherently part of the magic he gained from her. His gaze swept through the underground garden the Dryad dwelled within, torn up by twisted purplish-red roots Aodh had conjured to stave them off. Gran, dear Gran, had nearly lost herself again, Emrys¡¯s heart twisting as she shook the haze spilling out of her head. Not fully consumed, but struggling against the anger pulsating from the Dryad into their tribe. Into her especially, the Communer of the Dryad.
He caught wind of the chipmunk and badger faunimal, trying to hold their thrashing, haze-addled rabbit friend in place. Seekit had her ears folded, eyes glaring at everything ¡ª she wasn¡¯t bound to the Dryad herself, but her bond with Gran clearly messed with her. Golmac stared on as if he¡¯d seen something precious wither before him. Which he technically had.
For at one side of the garden, the Dryad stood, a snarling mess of heads with haze billowing out of each. Purplish-red vines hung from her adorned dress like thin, viperlike tentacles, with similarly colored veins popping from her forehead and running all over her vinelike arms. Her maneater tunneler that Aodh had trapped, already crazed from his touch, seemed to have grown even more crazed. Its head kept snapping at empty air, somehow ignorant of its bindings.
And Aodh. He was dead.
The warrior¡¯s lifeless gaze had been one of horror, with tinges of regret. His chest bled out, his heart surely torn by the roots that had grown out of the Dryad¡¯s arm. Said roots had retracted, the Dryad suddenly snapping her heads upward.
Determined scowls plastered themselves onto her faces. The other Tanglesooth druids, Emrys remembered with a start.
Aodh¡¯s crime was done. And now a worse one would surely occur above, with the other druids hampered by the sudden influx of rage flowing through their connection with the Dryad to them.
¡°Emrys.¡± Golmac clasped his shoulder, eyes alight with urgency. ¡°Please tell me you can¡ª¡±
A rumble. Emrys leaned onto his staff, he and Golmac gawking as giant purplish-red roots exploded out of the ceiling, literally breaking through the trunk. She broke through her tree? She can do that? thought Emrys, before noticing the ooze burning through it. Ah, of course.
The Dryad, damaging her own tree. It was unthinkable ¡ª but anger clearly messed with her mind. But more than that¡ª
The root began to retract, the Dryad letting out a cackle, and Emrys panicked. She¡¯s escaping the tree!
No time. He ran, a teeny part of agitation lodged into his mind giving him an ironic boost of speed. His purity cloud split from him, Emrys struggling to maintain a second one and send it to the Dryad.
It almost worked. But it didn¡¯t. The moment it came into contact with the Dryad, she struck back, Emrys wheezing as the chest strike threw him off. His mist dispersed, and in came the poison, streams of rotten thoughts and agitated garbage swamping his head. Emrys inwardly gagged at it all.
¡°Oh, I¡¯ll have none of that, child.¡± The Dryad¡¯s cold voice put chills down Emrys¡¯s spine, her expression indifferent toward him ¡ª if not just a little peeved. ¡°The warrior so badly wanted me to become the monster he sought, did he not? Let it be so then. I¡¯ll water these fields in human blood, just as he wanted.¡±
¡°Darned Dryad!¡± The hiss in Emrys¡¯s tone startled himself, the goblin forcing himself to conjure another purity cloud and cleanse his head. ¡°Wait, please! You¡ª¡±
The hole through the tree trunk was fully opened. Teeth bared with furious glee, the Dryad shot her vine-tentacles upward, each extending by an impossible amount until they latched onto a foothold within the almost vertical tunnel. She pulled her up, shooting off.
Emrys watched. And gasped with horror.
She¡¯ll get herself killed. Or worse, she¡¯ll get us all killed.
Worrywort thoughts. But in the fact of a Fluxus blinded with rage, all plausible ones too. ¡°We need to hurry out!¡± he shouted to the others.
Grandma Birog let an eye wander toward him, full of distaste. ¡°And what, fight the Dryad herself, idiot boy?¡± she spat. ¡°Balderdash! She¡¯ll¡ª¡±
Emrys split his purity cloud, Gran gagging as he washed out her head as much as possible. Her eyes refocused, Gran clutching her staff like it was a lifeline.
¡°No, you¡¯re right, boy. We need her in control of the plagued poison Aodh infected her with,¡± she said. ¡°Golmac, Seekit, quickly now.¡±
What, the crazy druids are leaving us?
Help the touched rabbit, nitwits!
The chipmunk and badger¡¯s irksome cries almost made Emrys want to give himself in to the anger spiking within him. Doubly so when the two faunimals flew right into his face, crazed rabbit spirit in tow. He huffed.
Sadhbh the Dryad had never known strength felt like this. It was simply intoxicating.
Her roots smashed through her Blessed Tree, Sadhbh feeding herself off her hatred of having to do such a despicable thing. Not that she could bring herself to care much about damaging her tree anyway ¡ª eyeless as her avatar was, she saw better than any two-eyed creature did. Her body, her vines, they felt the earth and trees. They felt all that happened in it, upon it, and beyond it.
She knew, all too vividly, of the unbridled chaos unfolding outside. The fires. The deaths. The ants that were humans, encroaching on her home like the pests they were, having just taken over the second boulder ring. The infernos they hurled, and the burning boulders they launched via catapults to devastate buildings, structures, and people alike.
Her Blessed Tree had caught fire. It would resist the flames, but aflame it was, and it would surely spread in due time. With the flesh-bags that were humans already destroying everything sacred to her, did it matter if she did a little property damage of her own?
And there were her people too, the Tanglesooth, who had just fallen back to the third and final boulder ring surrounding her tree ¡ª and had gone into disarray. She felt them clutching their heads, snarling wordlessly, acting with agitation at trolls showing concern and worry toward their messed up states. Some had turned violent and disorderly, though for now their rage remained focused on the main threat of the pyromancers, their forces startled as they cast thick, gruesome roots of a discolored purplish-red hue that ripped through their ranks. Roots that proved relatively difficult to burn away.
Kindlefury¡¯s attacks did have a touch of fire-based elemental magic to them, after all. Funny it was still there. With the poison.
The blighted poison. She felt it ¡ª the Berserker¡¯s essence wriggling within her. The warrior goblin known as Aodh had been so, so stupid, taking such a notable piece of a Fluxus with him! A piece full of lingering will, warping his magic and purpose!
It was the Berserker¡¯s final act against her. His greatest ploy! The moment Aodh had touched her, the taint had pulled itself free, magically latching onto her own soul and grafting itself to her. Oh, sure, it would be fine if there had been time to filter it out, to take full control over the essence, but no! The maddened fool had been too blind to listen.
And you had to kill him? a small part of her thought. An all-too-kindly voice. When you could¡¯ve kept him for¡ª
Nope. Too late. The traitor got what he deserved! He infected her. Her! He turned her into a monster.
And she would revel in it. Power! Rage! All hers! Had this been how the Berserker felt all the time? Curse the warrior goblin Aodh, bless the warrior goblin Aodh! He had turned her itty bitty tricks and traps into a far more lethal force. And the goblin Emrys, that little snake who happened to be her Communer¡¯s grandson, he had the gall to limit her!
She even could¡¯ve sworn she heard the Communer herself, demanding her to control her rage, to confine her abilities. But no, she wouldn¡¯t do such a thing. Why should she?
She was rage incarnate now. And she was miffed. Furious. Boiling with insatiable animosity! And she loved it. All that hate for humans, for those slighting her and her kingdom ¡ª it made her all the stronger! She wanted her hate to be such that it could be engraved in the tiniest of letters ad infinitum throughout each root, branch, and leaf of her Blessed Tree, and yet it would only equal a millionth of her true hate at just a given millisecond. Hate!
She would annihilate the humans with that hate. Utterly and thoroughly.
Manic grins sprouted on each of Sadhbh¡¯s heads as she sped through her makeshift tunnels, the rage-enhanced strength of her vines throwing her forward with great agility. Wood transitioned abruptly to dirt and stone, the Dryad vividly feeling all that existed above her heads. There were her troops ¡ª the Tanglesooth druids, who were bickering and snapping at one another, too engrossed in their rage to maintain their unity. Trolls too got snatched up in the friction between allies. Her few surviving maneater tunnelers were a mess of their own, already having started biting each other while tearing apart humans limb from limb.
The faunimals, pesky, unreliable creatures that they were, had dared to pause their attrition in favor of gawking at the chaos. Her alliance, crumpling because they couldn¡¯t keep themselves together in front of the obvious enemy about to wipe them out! Infuriating.
If you soothed yourself, the Tanglesooth could regroup under your command, the too-kind voice whispered.
But that meant losing her own strength. And Aodh was right about one thing: she hated being useless. Aodh had made a fool of her, up until he¡¯d thrown away the Berserker¡¯s essence.
No, her druids weren¡¯t needed. She needed no one! Feeling out the humans, Sadhbh¡¯s grins stretched wide upon finding a large clumping of them in a particular area, between the fallen second ring of boulders and the third. Many fire-flinging catapults with them too.
The perfect place to introduce them to their final welcome party. Sadhbh channeled her hate, and turned it into venomic will.
Her roots exploded outward like a freak natural disaster, ripping through their entire squadron. Sadhbh swore she could hear with her many eardrums their screaming. The loveliest noise in a battlefield.
If the humans weren¡¯t surprised enough by the sudden rage-filled root magic her disorderly druids had cast, this definitely had astounded them. She felt every last entity out there, human and non-human, swivel their heads toward the majestic death-spike of roots that had torn up the area. She knew their silence, the awe, their fear. She feasted on it.
It was only the beginning. Hardly had the humans processed the new threat when she began the real onslaught, roots spiking out throughout the entire field. Humans fell and shrieked and died, and Sadhbh grew giddy at the blood spilled. Yes, yes!
The pyromancers were like panicked sheep. But it still wasn¡¯t enough. She didn¡¯t want to merely kill with her hate ¡ª she needed them to see it in her face.
So Sadhbh did that. Roots broke out overhead, ripping a hole into the night sky, and Sadhbh flung herself out. Purplish-red tendrils sprouted from all over her body like a sickly pulsating mass, and Sadhdh screeched, announcing her presence.
She felt everything even more vividly now. Humans pointing at her, a few freaking out at her terrible appearance. Several casting fires her way. Sadhbh casually blocked them with roots, before retaliating, said roots stretching out until their thorns had impaled the pyromancers¡¯ throats.
Their blood soaked the scorched ground, and the Dryad mindlessly laughed, amidst a battlefield of rage roots, flying boulders, fae lights, and fire. All eyes were on her, from bewildered trolls to wary faunimals, and even her enraged subjects amongst the Tanglesooth and the man-eater tunnelers paid her attention. The humans most certainly did, a small wave of them having recognized her overwhelming threat and rushing to neutralize her.
Sadhbh gladly let them come, finding every excuse to feel disgust toward the insects who thought to challenge her. A little voice begged her to reel herself in, but she discarded the thought at once, too busy basking in the destruction she knew she was capable of. In the endless contempt she felt toward everything that dared to slight her.
The humans came upon her, and she killed. Fire branded her, and she let the insult to injury empower her, striking back with greater fury. And when the humans had been all slain, she rushed toward the next batch she could reach. And she killed, again and again and again.
And again.
Goodness, hate was such a wonderful thing.
Hate was such a horrible thing.
Emrys had fought the feeling the whole way with his purity magic, escorting a haggard Gran out of the Blessed Tree maze. Golmac and Seekit followed, while the other faunimals zipped past them all, in a jubilant mood.
Freedom!
No more maze to get in our way!
Well, the chipmunk and badger were. The rabbit was a lot more solemn, scanning the corridors within the tree for any passerby. She¡¯d been that way ever since she¡¯d been freed from her rage curse.
Not that it mattered much to Emrys. He kept up the brisk pace he had set, moving through the hallways to escape the tree, and Gran managed to follow. All the while, thoughts of resignation swirled within Emrys¡¯s head.
Purifying a wrathful Dryad? It¡¯d have been easier to deal with Aodh.
¡°She won¡¯t hear me.¡± Gran¡¯s palms looked like they were drenched in sweat. ¡°The Dryad. She seems entirely deaf and oblivious to anything I say, and trying to reach her¡ª¡±
¡°I can tell.¡± Emrys wiped his forehead, clearing out the poisonous malice in his head with a little extra force. The Dryad¡¯s rage had grown more and more palpable ¡ª according to Gran, Aodh¡¯s poison had intensified her disgust toward the human pyromancers, and she¡¯d been working herself into a fever pitch in her zeal to empower herself with as much rage as she could muster. Which worsened the negative impacts her magical rage had on the Tanglesooth.
As if knowing his concerns, Gran firmly shook her head. ¡°Worry not about the shelters for now,¡± she insisted. ¡°Each one had druids equipped with purity magic ¡ª if they were smart, they¡¯d have bathed their entire area with their cleansing clouds, to stave off the rage. We have our own fight to deal with.¡±
Yes, they did. The people in the shelters were generally non-casters ¡ª they wouldn¡¯t be as affected by the rage since they weren¡¯t channeling magic, and would pose less of a threat to each other anyway. The people outside though?
Emrys felt his heart seize as he and the others emerged from the Blessed Forest, the guards on standby mindlessly pummeling each other with their fists ¡ª somehow both had dropped their staffs elsewhere. He tilted his head upward, and there he found a few flames, spreading across the trunk and branches of the tree.
The pyromancers had woefully managed to push the Tanglesooth to their last boulder ring, apparently at around the time Aodh had corrupted the Dryad. Emrys could see the mess already, trolls retreating back toward the Blessed Tree itself as some of his fellow goblins lashed out with purplish-red vines and roots. ¡°The goblins have gone mad!¡± a troll in dark brown robes yelled, beelining toward them. ¡°Are you fine, Fluxus Communer? You too, healing goblin? I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening¡ª¡±
¡°The Tanglesooth Fluxus was tampered with, brother,¡± Golmac answered for Gran and Emrys. ¡°She¡¯s out there fighting the humans.¡±
¡°The three-headed cackling plant witch?¡± The troll paled. ¡°Oh, she¡¯s the worst of them horrors. Thank goodness she spent so little time at our side of the barricade! Kills humans mostly, but you¡¯d think she wanted all our heads too.¡±
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Emrys bit down a curse. Aodh had wanted his home saved by any means necessary ¡ª and now those means just might topple it instead. And he had to soothe the Dryad? By himself?
Wait. No. No, of course not.
¡°The other mind soothers,¡± Emrys said to Seekit. ¡°Can you get me to them?¡±
Sabhdh couldn¡¯t feel the burns scarring her, nor remember the bodies she shredded. All she knew was that she was killing. She ripped and tore, and it would never be done.
The third boulder ring was a sizzling mess, figuratively and literally. Her useless goblins had started attacking the trolls instead of the humans, and a few trolls had stupidly fought back. Even one or two faunimals had let themselves get mixed into the fray. The perfect occasion for ridiculously bold human pyromancers to storm the defenses.
She leapt at them, smashing many heads together with her tendrils and tossing others skyward with huge roots that burst out of the earth, scattering tons of dirt in their wake. One or two of her roots struck the boulders too, and the people upon it.
They flew too. It happened sometimes.
More humans. Two had climbed up the boulder, readying fireballs at the goblins there. Roots extended out of her tendril to slice them. She nicked the goblins too.
The ungrateful fools had the audacity to swarm her with roots. She ripped them apart and struck down the goblins for their insubordination. One bumped his head and fell unconscious.
Another had his arm and chest profusely bleeding out. The Dryad ignored him and chased after her real prey, killing more and more humans.
The pain of a broken connection, a lost follower, was but a tickle. Accidents.
You killed your own! The too-kindly part of Sadhbh cried out, clearly stricken. You left him to die!
And? The goblin one been a fool. He had dared harm her clear savior.
He was one of yours!
Another drop, then, to the hatred she felt for the humans that were to blame for everything. They¡¯d pay dearly for every life she had to waste because of them.
Rage was power, and power was everything. The more Sadhbh fought, the less she cared. The more she craved. The more she raged on, and rinse and repeat.
She killed humans. She killed a few irksome goblins getting in her way too.
Loathing overcame her as other goblins took notice, the idiots ganging her in their madness with piles and piles of roots, grouping her with the extremely obvious evil that the humans were. Why was she defending these people anyway? These were supposed to be her druids? A bunch of upstarts with the nerve to repay her like this?
She would remind them of their place. They¡¯d learn not to invoke her anger! She¡¯d been too soft with these worms¡ª
No! Not them! her too-kindly voice called out. You can¡¯t!
The Dryad¡¯s tendrils lashed out everywhere as she squelched the insufferable voice.
Emrys split off a purity cloud toward the addled goblin Seekit had found rummaging through the leftover goods of a wooden stall a distance behind the third boulder ring, an older fellow in a yellowish cloak whom Gran had already tied up in roots. He gagged, haze spilling out of his mouth, and hissed at Golmac, who currently held his staff. ¡°Miserable wretches!¡± he spat. ¡°When I get my staff back¡ª¡±
Gran gagged his mouth. Seldom had Emrys been forced to purify three different people at once ¡ª himself, Gran, and the goblin in front of him ¡ª but he pushed on, struggling with filtering out the poison in the goblin¡¯s head, until clarity eventually sparked in his eyes. He gave a start at Gran, as if just processing her presence.
¡°The Dryad¡¯s gone mad and tainted us with her rage,¡± Emrys swiftly told him, as Gran set him free and Golmac returned his staff. ¡°If we don¡¯t cleanse her mind, the humans will be the last of our worries.¡±
¡°You heard my grandson, Finan. Go!¡± snapped Gran. ¡°Get to filtering out the gunk in the other healers¡¯ heads!¡±
The goblin hastily nodded, conjuring his own purity cloud over his head. ¡°O-of course, communer. I-I apologize if¡ª¡±
¡°I said go! And do not get into any conflict with the rest of our crazed order!¡±
Finan scrambled off, nearly tripping over his robes. Gran clutched her head the moment he was out of sight, hissing to herself. ¡°She¡¯s turning against our own,¡± she said. ¡°Accursed Dryad ¡ª oh, the plague be upon this rage spell! ¡ª I don¡¯t think she even realizes, but she¡¯s projecting her bloodlust. She sees us as getting in our way.¡±
The connection between Gran and the Dryad was proving to be a rather problematic affair ¡ª a double-edged sword with the blade mostly resting against Gran¡¯s neck. Yet one more reason to hurry this up.
Any longer, after all, and the Dryad might start treating us as her true enemy.
The brown-cloaked troll that had run into them had for some reason stuck with their group, as had the faunimals that assisted them. ¡°Find us the next of our purifier druids,¡± Emrys told Seekit, before rounding upon them as the fox spirit darted off in a quick search. ¡°Don¡¯t any of you have somewhere else to be, or are you just here for company?¡±
The chipmunk and badger gave him leering expressions, daring him to wave them off. As if this whole affair was but an amusement to them. The rabbit, however, put on a resolute look.
Give me something to do.
Emrys, Golmac, and Gran raised brows at her oddly formal tone, and the stranger request she made. Her friends reacted similarly, the chipmunk making a face at her. You¡¯re asking smelly goblins for orders? she questioned. What, did the dumb servant girl rub off on you?
Who said I¡¯m playing servant like the silly bond spirit? I attacked you under a rage hex! The rabbit scowled with her lack of a mouth, muzzle contorting. The druid Fluxus spirit is under the stupid hex too! She attacks everything! I want it to stop before she attacks us and our forests. Or do you not want that?
The chipmunk spirit backed up with a grimace, while the badger chewed upon their friend¡¯s words. ¡°What the fae spirit said,¡± the brown-cloaked troll said. ¡°N-not that I want to be out there with everything so stir-crazy, if you¡¯ll excuse me, but there must be something we can do to stop this madness.¡±
Stop the Dryad and stop the human threat, both at once. Tall order. But maybe Aodh¡¯s gambit, for all the destruction it was causing, could be salvaged.
Golmac spoke the words Emrys himself meant to say. ¡°Containing a Fluxus is no small matter, brother,¡± he said. ¡°We will surely need every hand we have against her.¡±
Gran nodded, rubbing her ailing head. ¡°Your friends,¡± she told the troll and the faunimals, the rabbit in particular. ¡°Go and gather as many of them as you can.¡±
When it had happened, Sadhbh didn¡¯t know, but the world had become her enemy.
She was running out of humans. She never thought it possible, but they were dying out, with many of the pyromancers beginning to reverse course and flee the battlefield. The enraged goblins struck down the stragglers with roots ¡ª and her too. A few trolls lobbed stones too, and faunimals hurled light orbs to burn her. A series of rips marked her shriveled dress, scars covering the entirety of her heads, and all it did was make her all the more furious.
They were focusing on her, like she was some vile monster. And the trolls and faunimals weren¡¯t even crazy like her in the head! Oh, she knew very well the goblins yearned for her death ¡ª the rage simply brought their truest, rawest, darkest thoughts out, after all ¡ª but clearly the other two parties¡¯ lust for bloodshed had no need for magic to bring out their evil intentions. They were much like the warrior goblin Aodh, seeking to steal from her core for themselves! They¡¯d never been allies in the first place.
Opportunists. She would destroy them for their treason. And then the Fluxi they served, who had surely conspired against her. But no, shouldn¡¯t she chase the humans first? Kill each and every last one of their soldiers? Or better yet, follow them to their human settlement, so she could repay the favor in full? Show them what it was like to be on the receiving end of extermination?
A large swath of roots jutted out of the earth like murderous spikes, the Dryad¡¯s reflexes letting her leap away just in time to avoid the clumsy attack, and at last she decided she was through with this charade. Did it even mean anything that she fought off the humans, when her so-called people were so unappreciative? She should¡¯ve let them burn! She should¡¯ve abandoned them! No more Tanglesooth to waste her time with.
That was when she decided: she hated everything. Everything hated her, after all! They hated her virtues, they hated her power! Everything hated each other too ¡ª hate was everything.
Fine by her. She loved, loved, loved hate. Hate made her everything! It made her a being worthy of being respected and feared, a being of great power. And nobody would take that away from her! She¡¯d be that way until the end of time, if she had to! All in her way would yield or perish!
The teeny-tiny voice of her old, too-kind self whimpered, crying that it was but the Berserker¡¯s essence messing her completely, taking her down a path of destruction that would leave her alone for eternity ¡ª or prematurely dead. The rest of her shamelessly corrupted self just cackled, eyeing the goblins, trolls, and faunimals she no longer needed, and saw them as the ants they really were. First them, then the pesky humans. She¡¯d¡ª
A storm of rocks and roots engulfed Sadhbh from all sides, crushing her tight. She rasped, tendrils slashing about in a crazed frenzy, the Dryad doing everything to free herself. Yet more stones came to replace the ones destroyed, and more roots too. What? Who? Who dared?
She gazed with her inner sense, and snarled upon the threat she found. A gathering of goblin druids, green purity clouds misting their faces, alongside a party of trolls. Even a few faunimals overhead too, all working together.
It baffled her. They were coordinated against her! Her! Where was their hate that made them fight one another? How dare¡ª
And then purity mist coalesced around her. Sabhdh wordlessly yelled out as if pricked by dagger-like thorns, her hazy rage losing its edge as it clashed with the purity. They were sapping her strength! They were taking away her wrath! The fiends!
Friends.
The echo of her too-kindly voice made the Dryad recoil. She screamed, tendrils thrashing like mad.
Emrys wasn¡¯t even sure how the druids mobilized so quickly without his or Gran¡¯s input, but he saw in the distance. Casters, goblin and troll alike, had grouped up upon a crooked section of the third boulder ring that¡¯d been somewhat displaced by the chaos of the humans and the Dryad. Many of the goblins were casting purity clouds over one another, but some, he noticed, had their staffs glowing with the darker green hues that came with root magic. The trolls too had their staffs burning bright with gray colors, a beacon of scattered lights in a charred midnight. Faunimals floated overhead too.
They were fighting the Dryad already. A little too early, he feared, for they surely needed more people. More goblins soothed to help, and more trolls. And yet, was it better to delay and let the Dryad rampage a second longer?
Golmac and another goblin with purifier magic they managed to find were moving ahead of him, Emrys sticking close to Gran. Her haggardness had briefly lifted, a spark of life returning to her face. ¡°The gunk in my head¡¯s clearing a little,¡± she said. ¡°You feel it, boy?¡±
Emrys did. It was faint, but he noticed how it was a tiny bit easier to clear out the poisonous anger trying to overwhelm their minds. The druids had somehow managed to capture and purify Sadhbh already? It was a miracle.
The humans are scattering.
Emrys jerked his head upward with a little too much force, Seekit descending upon them. The battlefield is left with only broken remnants of their forces, she declared. Many fight still, but they¡¯ve lost control.
Another miracle, just as badly needed. ¡°The Dryad made it too difficult for them to take advantage of our disunity,¡± Gran said with a wretchedly bitter smirk. ¡°Maybe, just maybe¡ª¡±
She staggered, falling back into Emrys¡¯s arms. ¡°Gran!¡± he yelled.
Are you fine, Lady Birog? asked Seekit, before her ears jolted straight up. Back!
Golmac and the goblin halted at once. ¡°Mistress spirit?¡± asked the former. ¡°What¡ª¡±
Large purplish-red roots exploded from beneath the feet of the goblin and troll coalition, their forces scattering everywhere. Boulders uprooted themselves, and Emrys felt his heart skip a beat as the Dryad leapt into view, shrieking like a feral beast freed from its cage.
She was even more far gone than Emrys had expected. Beyond the disgusting mass of bloodied tendrils wriggling out of her, she was buried in scars and injuries that would¡¯ve been debilitating for any normal person, yet acted like none of them mattered. Whatever little sense of reasoning she had, it was overridden by primal, murderous rage, the kind that wasn¡¯t even sure why it raged except for the sake of it. And she looked incredibly ticked off that the druids had tried to soothe the rage out of her.
He feared the thing she had become, far more than he feared Aodh. And yet, as the warped Dryad threw herself upon the druids, he found himself the most determined he¡¯d been in this entire ordeal.
Keeping his purity cloud up, Emrys gritted his teeth as he pushed himself, summoning roots to ensnare the Dryad. Which failed, unsurprisingly ¡ª the Dryad hissed out and cut the obstacles down ¡ª but bought time for her targets to recuperate. Goblins cast their own roots, and trolls levitated the boulders the Dryad had tossed about and destroyed, crushing the Dryad in between again. Her garbled cries made the very earth tremble.
Her tendrils ripped through, only for the Dryad to cover herself as faunimals assaulted her, lights burning her faces. Emrys sent a pinch of purity mist upon her, as did other goblins, and somehow it brought a pain to her truer than any physical force. He sidestepped as her roots arbitrarily grew out of the ground, flailing about with no real target.
The Dryad raged, screamed, made noises Emrys never had heard before. In the corner of his eye, Gran had pulled herself up, staring down the Fluxus she was linked to.
¡°Sadhbh,¡± she whispered, and the Dryad froze up.
Sadhbh.
The call of her name stirred something deep within the Dryad. Something tender. She hated it.
Or rather, she wished she could hate it. And she hated that she couldn¡¯t bring herself to.
One single word from her Communer, rippling throughout her mind, and suddenly she felt truly vulnerable. And yet loved. It paralyzed her, the Dryad forgetting for a moment that she was being crushed by roots and vines. That she was being smothered by vile mist that sapped away her hate.
Love. The opposite of hate. Serenity, the opposite of rage.
Her purplish-red tendrils grew desaturated, her haze reeling back from the cleansing mist eating away at her. ¡°No!¡± she hissed, ripping herself out of her prison with what strength she still retained. Her heads contorted in the direction of where Birog was, the accursed old goblin she¡¯d been chained to.
Her Communer returned her threefold death glares with a sullen, nostalgic one. She spoke aloud, but the Dryad heard them much louder, much clearer, within her own head.
Come back to your senses, dear. You¡¯re hurting your loved ones.
The words were no mist, forcibly dampening her rage, but the soothing tones it came with worked just as effectively, stirring awake the too-kind part of herself Sadhbh had worked so hard to silence. She hated that. She had to hate! The Berserker¡¯s essence within her fed on hate, gave her power through hate¡ª
But I don¡¯t want to hate.
Her too-kind self¡¯s words threw the Dryad into a final frenzy. She hacked and slashed her way out of her prison, lunging at the vile creature she had once called her Communer¡ª
Golmac blocked the Dryad with a shower of rocks, Emrys heaving as the impact knocked her off-course. She tumbled and pulled herself up, skittering about with her vines and tendrils, before yet another set of roots entangled her. ¡°You! YOU!¡± she mindlessly spat at a grim-faced Gran.
Emrys pulled her away just as purplish-red roots ruptured out of the earth ¡ª hesitantly so, he noticed ¡ª in an attempt to entangle her legs. ¡°Aodh gave her a piece of the Berserker?¡± she said, and Emrys thought he¡¯d hallucinated for a moment.
He what?
A bothered tsk came from Grandma Birog. ¡°Explains a lot of things,¡± she muttered, before she continued her appeal to the Dryad. ¡°Would you really hurt me, my little Sadhbh?¡±
Would you hurt the one person closest to you?
The Dryad drew sharp breaths. The tone of her Communer was like that she¡¯d often use when she¡¯d been but a newly-formed Fluxus, sweet and motherly. It hurt.
It hurt so much.
¡°GET OUT!¡± The bindings hadn¡¯t fully entangled her this time, the Dryad ripping free almost immediately ¡ª only for yet more roots to catch her, and for boulders to crash into her path. The fiend! Trying to tear her apart with sticks and stones, and destroy her with words!
Faunimal light spheres struck her. The purity mist kept eating at her strength. She felt sluggish, tired. She felt like weeping.
She felt weak. She never wanted to be weak again. Her Communer was making her weak! Too tight was their bond, a series of magical knots that required extensive work to unravel ¡ª or death, and Birog had to die. She had to¡ª
Why her? cried the too-kindly voice. Why Grandmother Birog?
The affection flayed her. It flayed the churning essence of the Berserker within her, tendrils moving as one to make the suffering stop. They weaved around vines, roots, and stones, the Dryad raging one more time for her right to hate as she reached for the Communer¡ª
Blue beams. Seekit had planted herself upon Gran right in the nick of time, Emrys covering his ears as the Dryad cried out in pure agony, her tendrils dissolving from the vine-like beams burning through them. Even now, he found himself in awe at the beauty, the power, behind the light attacks. Other goblins and trolls were surely mesmerized at the flashy magic before them that they had never seen before, for a few had paused their spells for just a brief moment.
The beams made the Dryad crumple, her wounds catching up. The endless swaths of poisonous rage clogging up her mind began to finally run out, Emrys feeling the taint losing its ever-present hold upon him as he and his fellow healers pushed all the way through. ¡°Stop it!¡± she said, the guttural edge in her voice dulled. ¡°I-it hurts!¡±
Gran had nearly fallen herself, exhaustion from the spell she casted forcing her to rest on her staff. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I had to hurt you, dear.¡±
I didn¡¯t want my death to hurt you more.
Sadhbh The Dryad choked. She hated ¡ª she wished she could hate! ¡ª how sincere the words felt.
Roots continued to hold her tightly, the Dryad weakly striking at them with what few tendrils she had left. No, no, this was all a trick! They were going to kill her and do terrible things with her leftover essence! They were no better than the humans! They were her enemies¡ª
They¡¯re my allies.
The rage, the hate, it began to flag. ¡°Stop making me weak,¡± she whimpered.
Gran shook her head. You¡¯re never weak when you¡¯re with your people.
Her people.
She had attacked her people. She had tried wiping out those fighting for her. She had killed.
It was like storm clouds had cleared up in Sadhbh¡¯s head. The poison within her protested ¡ª that sliver of the Berserker that had wormed its way from the warrior goblin Aodh into her, preying on her darkest, deepest fears ¡ª but the too-kind part of herself couldn¡¯t stand the poison anymore. She tapped into her magic, her pure magic, and pressed it against the essence deep within her.
It squealed, and the Dryad collapsed, her anger locked away. She mourned.
The Dryad¡¯s whimpers, a far cry from the dignified persona one would associate with a being like her, were what told everyone the fight was over. Roots burrowed away and purifying mists abated, Emrys panting as if he had run a marathon. The toxic rage within him was but a seed, contained away by a calming force that clearly had to be the Dryad¡¯s own magic at work.
The smell of smoke and fire wafted in the air. Village structures lay either broken or burnt to a crisp. A mess of cracked stones, splintered roots, and piles of tossed-up dirt littered the battleground, and Emrys couldn¡¯t help but notice the flames still blazing all over the Blessed Tree. Far in the distance, yells and small bursts of flames spoke of the skirmishes still happening between their regrouping forces and what remained of the humans. Not a purely pyrrhic victory, but far from celebratory either.
Through the overhanging leaves of the great Blessed Tree, the moon shone upon their muted gathering, acknowledging them. Goblins and trolls took solace in each other, hushed apologies and regretful, mournful murmurs passing between the Tanglesooth and those they had harmed out of blind rage. Even the faunimals held their silence, Emrys managing to spot the threesome that had joined them deep in the Blessed Tree. The rabbit alone made eye contact with him, her gaze vacant.
Golmac came beside him, wordless. Gran knelt beside the Dryad, a hand resting upon her middle head, and the heartbroken Fluxus teared up as she embraced the touch.
Epilogue: Renewal
Goblin Haze, Druid Rage
Epilogue: Renewal
The day revealed a tattered village, surrounded by three rings of boulders partially turned to rubble and centered upon a grandiose tree of charred wood whose flames had been snuffed out. A tremendous effort, done in the night by goblins and trolls that hadn¡¯t collapsed on the spot from war-induced exhaustion.
The Tanglesooth were packing up. The humans had been driven out, but with their home a mess and their narrow victory overshadowed by their losses, never mind worries of a possible second invasion, the druid order had made the difficult decision to move on. They¡¯d been rummaging through their homes and belongings for precious items and foodstuffs, and many, Emrys had found, were already making their way out of the village. Many were headed off to join the Cragfall troll druids in their hilly, rocky dwellings at the foot of the mountains off to the east, while others, far more leery, were scattering to places unknown.
Emrys, naturally, was of the former. He and Golmac had been sitting together atop one of the boulders of their third defensive ring, observing goblins and trolls covering up graves for their fallen. Too many graves. Though then again, he had expected none to begin with. None, for a village murdered would have nobody to dig graves in the first place, after all. Only enemies to cremate them.
They had lost a notable amount of skilled druid fighters, another reason for the Tanglesooth to leave home. A few trolls too, and even two corpses from the shelters. The humans had exacted their toll, but so had the Berserker¡¯s influence.
¡°The Berserker¡¯s own essence, stolen by Aodh.¡± Emrys turned toward Golmac, the troll ruminating on what he¡¯d relayed from Gran to him. ¡°I can hardly believe it, and yet, it makes a world¡¯s worth of sense.¡±
¡°I suppose,¡± Emrys said, holding his staff close to him. For the fifth time today, he felt within him for any trace of foreign rage, sighing when he found nothing. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯ve never heard of such a thing. Yanking a piece of a Fluxus¡¯s core out, just like that, and absorbing it for yourself?¡±
¡°I was taught it was a terrible taboo, to directly steal the magic grafted into a Fluxus,¡± replied Golmac. ¡°That piece still holds a part of the Fluxus within, after all. It might explain some of the oddities in Aodh¡¯s magic, hm? The Berserker had cursed whatever magic he learned on his own.¡±
Perhaps so. Gran hadn¡¯t said too much ¡ª but she did hint that when Aodh poisoned the Dryad, the Berserker¡¯s wrathful will must¡¯ve latched on, influencing her thoughts toward a self-destructive path just as he did for Aodh. A spiteful attempt to take out the Tanglesooth for good. Had he and the Kindlefury heard of the pyromancers early on? wondered Emrys. Perhaps the Berserker thought his days were numbered when Aodh stole from him, and decided to ensure that we went down too? Or was it just pure hatred that drove him?
¡°Just don¡¯t go sharing this stuff around,¡± Emrys told Golmac. ¡°Everyone else just knows the Kindlefury somehow compromised the Dryad post-mortem, and that her magic¡¯s tainted with the Berserker¡¯s. Only our chieftain and a few important people know about Aodh¡¯s involvement.¡±
Now that he thought of it, Aodh¡¯s corpse was still down there, at the Dryad¡¯s sanctum beneath the Blessed Tree. They¡¯d have to handle that later. It was morbidly ridiculous, Emrys decided, that the mad warrior¡¯s plans had actually worked. Being empowered by the Berserker¡¯s wrath had been the edge the Dryad needed to take down the human waves ¡ª but at a terrible cost of the Tanglesooth having turned upon each other and their allies. They had spilled their own blood.
None were more despondent than the Dryad herself. Injuries, grime, and blood still marked her, and she had barely moved from her spot, Grandma Birog asleep beside her and Seekit on standby. Gran had stayed up the night to keep comforting the Fluxus, and she had only succumbed to exhaustion in the earliest part of the morning.
Tanglesooth druids would come and go to speak with the Dryad, some also carrying the burdens of friendly fire, violence, and unwilling murder, and she would reply in quiet, soothing tones. For some reason, the chipmunk, badger, and rabbit faunimals had shown up as well, Seekit dealing with them with strained patience.
With little better to do, Emrys leapt off the boulder, striding over as a particularly teary goblin left the Dryad. Their somber conversation was juxtaposed by the noise of the chipmunk faunimal mentally blowing a raspberry at Seekit. The Dryad turned her heads upon the spirit, expressionless.
¡°She serves me,¡± came her soft-spoken warning.
Ooh! She serves you! The chipmunk dared roll her eyes at the very force of nature that could¡¯ve slaughtered their village the night before. A servant girl at the beck and call of your every whim! How humiliating! How¡ª
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The rabbit wisely thumped her, Seekit taking amusement at the yelp she produced. So there¡¯s actual benefits to this whole silly bond thing? she asked the fox spirit. It¡¯s not just your old goblin getting a free slave to play with?
Not that any of you would ever try, Seekit replied matter-of-factly. Or would extended life and a constant source of energy to feed upon be enough to entice you?
The rabbit looked at her chipmunk and badger friends. And then snorted.
And let some smelly bald goblin pull me around willy-nilly? Boooooring.
Too many rules and obligations! And like I¡¯m letting some dumb druid use my light! the badger said. When the Dryad turned a head upon her, she froze on the spot. N-no offense, great Fluxus.
The Dryad hummed. ¡°Your kindred do not have the natural ability to bond for little reason,¡± she noted. ¡°It may be of interest for you to consider it.¡±
And be like miss oldie moldie here? Ew, gross! The chipmunk blew another mental raspberry, darting off with a laugh before the rabbit could thump her again. The badger hollered for her to wait up, chasing after, making the rabbit grumble.
She cocked an eye at Seekit. You¡¯re still old. And a maid.
Caretaker, said Seekit.
Old maid!
The rabbit went off, Emrys resisting the urge to shake his head at the entire exchange. It had been startling to him that the rabbit¡¯s character had changed so drastically after Aodh had made her go berserk, but so much for that ¡ª faunimals were still faunimals, for better or worse.
¡°Emrys.¡± The Dryad¡¯s call made the goblin swivel his head over. ¡°Grandchild of my Communer. Does something trouble you too?¡±
With her level voice, one could¡¯ve almost missed how tight her lips were, how she huddled into herself. ¡°I would think you¡¯re the troubled one, my Dryad.¡±
¡°Sadhbh will do.¡± A throaty noise left her main mouth, the side heads drooping. ¡°I have maimed and killed.¡±
¡°Aodh and the Berserker¡¯s fault.¡±
¡°My own fault. The Berserker¡¯s taint pulled out of me a fear I seldom acknowledged, a fear of being weak and defenseless. He made me crave hatred as a means to power.¡± The Dryad¡¯s voice cracked. ¡°He made me harm my people out of hate.¡±
¡°What, you mean to say you let Aodh poison you in the first place?¡± Gran stirred, the Dryad shifting as the groggy goblin threw her a dead stare. ¡°Must I go over this again with you, child? All your people have harmed others without meaning to, and you¡¯ve absolved them of their blame ¡ª is it fair that you shun our wish to absolve you, a spirit compromised by outside forces, in return?¡±
It had been wise that the public had been told of the Berserker¡¯s trick, for it had spared everyone any ill feelings toward each other, knowing there¡¯d been a common enemy sowing discord in the shadows. Everyone so far who¡¯d come to the Dryad had expressed sorrow for the curse placed upon her, instead of rancor and hate-filled accusations. We already had a night full of that, Emrys dryly thought.
The Dryad trembled, sidestepping Gran¡¯s question. ¡°The Berserker¡¯s essence remains within me,¡± she said, a vine-woven hand upon her chest. ¡°I fear I cannot remove it. My purification magic keeps it dormant, but perhaps one day, it will rear up again.¡±
A repeat of everything was certainly not something Emrys wanted to see again. But Gran tsked, finding her concern unnecessary. ¡°It is your essence now,¡± she said. ¡°The Berserker¡¯s magic may live on within you, but he does not. It will not take so long to purge his rotten influence, you may find.¡±
It was strange to think about, knowing some aspect of the rage magic the Kindlefury wielded was forever part of the Tanglesooth now. They could call upon it, if the Dryad would allow it. They could empower themselves through their anger.
Aodh had said the Kindlefury needed discipline to control themselves when using their magic. The Tanglesooth would need to start learning that too, wouldn¡¯t they? If they were stuck with their rage, they may as well learn to be in full control of it.
Though I doubt the Dryad would be willing to have us experiment with it so soon.
Golmac had come up beside Emrys, his head inclining toward the Dryad in respect. ¡°At ease, troll,¡± she said, glancing toward their group. ¡°You all have my undying gratitude. I do not think I would have awoken from the nightmare I was under without your efforts.¡±
Seekit brushed away her words, referring to it as just their duty. ¡°I am always here for you, my child,¡± Gran reminded her, stroking her middle head. ¡°Always was, always will be.¡±
¡°I know, Grandmother Birog.¡±
Emrys kept himself from laughing, seeing Golmac¡¯s brows shoot up at the familial term. The Cragfall druids really didn¡¯t have any such close-knit relationships with their Stone Giant, did they? Different environment and culture, he supposed.
It¡¯d be nice to see the differences in how they lived their lives. Though really, it was nice to live at all.
None of us should¡¯ve been alive in the first place.
¡°It is a great kindness your druids permitted us to live alongside your kind,¡± the Dryad told Golmac. ¡°Would we not impose on you by doing so? I wouldn¡¯t wish to¡ª¡±
¡°To trouble us? Hardly.¡± Golmac put a hand over his heart. ¡°Though I am no representative of my kind, we fear neither a relapse of your rage, nor the burden of refugees. The humans may return someday ¡ª you will certainly return the favor then. You are all welcome with us, great Dryad Fluxus.¡±
¡°Sadhbh.¡±
The Dryad¡¯s emphasis on her name gave Golmac pause. Gran chuckled, and Emrys smiled as he waved Golmac onward. The troll adopted a warm smile of his own.
¡°Sadhbh.¡±
The Tanglesooth marched on. In the burnt, ash-filled remains of their home, a seed of renewal was planted.