《The Clan of the Hidden Tree: A Seven Stars Web Series》


 1.01 Prologue

    ¡°We¡¯ll need thirty panes of clear glass- standard size.¡± The hard looking dwarf standing at the shop counter picked a piece of tough food from his teeth as he considered the remaining items his crew would need for the rest of their job. ¡°We¡¯ll also need eighteen pallets of brick, three stacks of lumber and two pallets of clay shingles.¡±


    ¡°Very well,¡± the younger dwarf behind the counter replied. ¡°Are you certain that¡¯s everything, Tjork?¡± Nest knew Tjork well enough that there was no way he had gotten everything right on the first try. ¡°Some nails or mortar perhaps?¡±


    Tjork snapped his fingers and pointed at Nest. ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± The gruff dwarf shook his head. ¡°Forman would have lost it if I forgot nails again. Yes to both.¡±


    Nest took a deep breath in and slowly released it. ¡°Have you ever considered writing the supply list down?¡±


    Tjork frowned at the thought. ¡°You know, I¡¯d never considered that. Seems like an extra step.¡±


    The young dwarf took a longer and deeper breath, trying to ignore the blatant lazy stupidity of the man in front of him. He took a few seconds to jot down some details on an order slip, then finished up some math to figure the final cost. ¡°That¡¯s one rare and four common cores.¡±


    Tjork looked at the merchant with a hard stare. ¡°Seems a bit steep.¡±


    Nest shrugged his shoulders. ¡°Not much to be done about it. I¡¯m already giving you wholesale prices. Not enough sinners in the mountain anymore since the guild labeled us a cult.¡± Nest shook his head. ¡°Fewer sinners out collecting beast cores and loot from other dungeons means less is being brought in. The tree doesn''t get as much spirit energy, everything gets a bit more expensive.¡± The young man held up the paper he¡¯d done his math on. ¡°One rage, four common.¡±


    Tjork shook his head as he dug through his core pouch. ¡°Damn guild- stopping honest dwarfs from claiming ardite items should be illegal. It goes against their most basic laws.¡±


    The Sinner¡¯s Guild was the main adventuring guild throughout the empire. All beings who had bound themselves to ardite items were required by guild law to join. If they didn¡¯t, there was one simple alternative. Death.


    Ardite was a rare and powerful metal. Naturally magical in nature, it was a byproduct of dungeon magic. A fact known to few outside The Clan of the Hidden Tree.


    Nest¡¯s people had developed a special relationship with the dungeon that controlled this mountain. Unlike most, they understood what a dungeon core really was. It was a being with powerful abilities and reasoning. A sentient gemstone that could create and destroy at will.


    The dwarven clan had long ago developed a symbiotic relationship with the hidden tree, an A-Ranked dungeon core- bound to the sin of greed- that sat at the center of a split tree, hidden deep within the dungeon they now called home. None knew for sure where it was and many rumors suggested it didn¡¯t stay still for long.


    Nest had always found that idea strange. A tree that moves? What would that even look like?


    Most of the dungeon had been converted. Construction teams like the one Tjork was buying for would purchase materials from shops like the one Nest ran with his family. Those materials were purchased with cores that were brought in from other dungeons that members of their clan had collected.


    Nest provided materials to the construction crews, then filed a report to send to the high council, along with the collected cores- minus his cut. The high council took all the inventory requests from all of the shops in the dungeon to the emissary of the hidden tree, a powerful, humanized, A-Ranked mob that represented the dungeon to their people.


    As long as beast cores and other valuable material were coming into the dungeon, the system worked smoothly.


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    That was until the guild had labeled the hidden tree clan a dungeon cult. A group of zealots that worshiped dungeons as gods.


    Certainly, there were people in the mountain that held the dungeon core in very high regard, even to the point of worship. However, there was no benefit that was garnered from the act. Those who worshiped simply lived the same lives with the same rules as the rest of the clan.


    For the most part, everyone held to the truth of the matter. The dungeon had simply come up with a beneficial way to coexist with their people. It was a Greed dungeon after all. Its ability to passively collect wealth was unmatched by any lesser being. The dwarves simply lived in the wake of that collection. It pulled them along, lifting them up as the dungeon grew stronger.


    ¡°Supplies are in the warehouse.¡± Nest was no longer invested in the conversation. His mind had returned to the task at hand. He was carving a gift for his mother. A lioness, like the ones that existed deep in the mountain, where the tree had kept things wild. He scratched at the back of his head, near the base of his skull as he continued to cut the lines that would become the lion¡¯s tail.


    He huffed, annoyed at the itching sensation that persisted.


    He placed his knife down and continued to scratch. No matter what he did, the feeling persisted. Shifting uncomfortably in his seat at the shop counter- he turned, leaning his elbow on the surface. The irritation moved along with him, but stayed in the same spot.


    Heart racing slightly with the strange feeling within his head, he turned again, now facing completely away from the counter.


    The itch was no longer there. Now, directly in the center of his forehead he could only feel a pull. Like a string was tied to him and lightly being drawn in a specific direction.


    Nest¡¯s chest started thumping as his mind focused on the pull. Something within him told him that he needed to follow. That something was waiting for him.


    He stood and walked in the direction of the pull. His heart began to race at the feeling. This was right. It was the correct direction and he needed to find whatever was calling him.


    The young dwarf walked further into the shop, eventually coming to the back door. The pull was no longer directly in front of him, but if he wanted to follow it further, he would need to go through the door- so he did.


    Minutes later, Nest found himself walking down the street. The spot in his mind that pulled him forward moved from side to side as he walked, but it was always in front of him as his feet began to pick up pace.


    Before he knew what was happening, Nest was sprinting. Dungeon tunnels were around him, lit by artificial ambient light. Vegetation he had never seen before began to grow more densely on the walls, as if he were running headlong into a forest. For all he knew, he was.


    The call was too strong. He couldn¡¯t resist the desire to find what was pulling him forward when suddenly-


    The chamber opened. The light was bright as the grassland that filled the massive space spread from wall to wall. Birds flew up from the thick grass and rushed back into hiding as Nest disturbed the peaceful scene.


    He couldn¡¯t see any of it.


    All he could see was the massive tree that stood in the middle of the field. It was alive and beautiful. Even the massive split down its center only fed its character.


    The pull drew Nest forward. He needed to know what he was being drawn to.


    He walked nervously through the grass for what seemed like hours. The chamber was massive. Miles across, but Nest wouldn¡¯t run. Not in this place. Something deep within him told him to treat this place with reverence. Respect.


    As he drew close, the inside of the split trunk of the tree became visible. Inside, a bright glow of yellow drew his attention. The dungeon core.


    For a moment, he thought the core itself was what was drawing him in.


    As he moved closer, it became clear that he was wrong. The core simply sat above something.


    Nest got close enough to see the core up close. It was embedded in the flesh of the tree along the backside of a hollowed section.


    He looked down. At the base of the hollow, there was a knife. It wasn¡¯t a dagger of anything ornate. Just a knife- remarkably similar to the widdling blade he¡¯d left in his shop.


    He looked up at the core once more and it pulsed as if giving him the permission he desired.


    He looked down once more and reached for the blade.


    As he took the blade of swirling blue and black in his hand, it didn¡¯t speak, but he could feel a question burning in his mind.


    ¡°Yes- I will bond with you.¡±


    Euphoria filled his chest as relief filled him. His entire life, he had been living with something missing, he simply didn¡¯t know it.


    He lifted the ardite carving knife to look at it once more and his vision began to fade. Soon, he felt earth and grass impacting his back as his mind went white.

 1.02

    Nest blinked his eyes and found himself back at his desk. ¡°What the-¡± Had he been dreaming? He didn¡¯t remember falling asleep, or waking up for that matter.


    ¡°That was the hidden tree and the knife, it was-¡± He trailed off as he looked back down at the project he had been working on.


    The first thing he noticed was the large hunk of dark wood that was in his left hand. The lioness he had been carving for his mother was gone, sitting further down the counter where he¡¯d dropped it.


    In his right hand, his old carving knife had also been replaced.


    Blue and black metal swirled in an otherworldly fashion. When he looked directly at the pattern, it didn¡¯t move. But, when the knife was at the corner of his eye, he could swear the waving layers drifted and changed. ¡°Ardite?¡± Nest had met his share of sinners in his life. Many of the clan¡¯s most prominent business owners were sinners who had invested enough time and effort into their people that they had worked themselves into positions of prominence.


    Dwarves were already a long living species. Maybe not as long as the elves, but a couple hundred years of life was nothing to scoff at. Add on the life expectancy of a sinner? Well, if you were incapable of reaching prominence in those centuries of life, there was no helping you.


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen soul steel before, but I¡¯ve never held it. I¡¯ve never had a chance to inspect it.¡± Nest¡¯s curiosity was piqued as he flipped the blade around in his finger.


    The dwarven people were also one of the more sensitive when it came to feeling the natural flow of spirit energy. The free floating power of the universe that allowed sinners and dungeons to do what they did.


    The power flowing through this blade was something else entirely. Sure, there was spirit energy within, but that wasn¡¯t the issue. It¡¯s what the spirit energy was doing. The way it moved and behaved. It was like watching a construction team at a distance as they worked. Without context, the moving teams might simply look chaotic, but once you could see the structure coming into existence, you understood what was happening.


    Nest felt the spirit energy leave the knife, moving directly into his hand where he could practically see it flowing up his arm and towards his head.


    He watched it, visualizing its movement until it reached its destination.


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    The point at the back of his skull. Where his head met his neck.


    Nest¡¯s eyes widened as he realized what he was seeing.


    It was like a brightness. A light in the darkness that scrubbed existence clean. ¡°A spirit?¡±


    That¡¯s exactly what he was seeing. Something had happened and the spirit energy within his body was pooling in one spot. It was being purified in that collection point of infused flesh sinners called their spirit.


    ¡°Why is this happening? How-¡± He paused, remembering the pull that had drawn him to the tree. He remembered the feeling of claiming the knife and agreeing to bond with it. ¡°Am I a cultivator now? Am I a sinner?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Nest turned his head. Had he just heard something? ¡°Is anyone there?¡±


    After a few moments of silence, the dwarf stood and walked to the entrance of the store. He threw the door open and looked for whoever had been speaking, but he was alone.


    The darkness had begun to settle over the town in his region of the mountain. For this time of year, his work day would have been over before the sun started going down, so clearly some time had passed since he had spoken to Tjork.


    He turned again, looking into the shop. ¡°Who said that!¡± He held up the small knife threateningly, but no one was within. ¡°I know I heard something. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m going crazy. The only problem is that crazy people don''t know they¡¯re crazy.¡±


    As he walked back to the store counter, his heart leapt again. This time he didn¡¯t yell. He didn¡¯t go searching for the noise. He simply remained quiet and listened.


    As he got closer to the counter, the sound grew. What was it? What was happening? He looked around the countertop, assessing that the noise was coming from there.


    As his eyes moved across the items strewn on the surface, they caught on something and lingered. It was the lion. The small figure he had been carving and was nearly done with.


    The young dwarf picked up the figure and inspected it. For a long moment, it remained silent, until the sound came again. It wasn¡¯t an audible noise, but something in his mind that was connecting him to the small beast. He looked at the blade in his hand and could feel the instincts within him kick in.


    He brought the blade up to the lion and began to carve away the final few slivers that held the beast from completion.


    After a few moments, and some clean cuts with the ardite blade, he knew he was done. He sat the lion down on the counter. He went to inspect the blade. It was far higher quality than the one he had been using before. He hadn¡¯t known how long it had been without a user, but it was as sharp as any blade he¡¯d ever held. Nest flicked his thumb across the blade, feeling the impossibly potent edge.


    Then his heart leapt from his chest. ¡°Heavenlies above!¡± He jumped back in surprise, nearly falling to the ground.


    The small lioness figure was pacing across the counter. It moved fluidly, like you would expect from a living animal, not a piece of wood.


    After a moment, it stopped, sniffed some papers, then flopped down and was sleeping in seconds.

 1.03

    ¡°Blessed forest, what is happening?¡± Nest moved closer to the lioness. ¡°How are you alive?¡±


    The small figure lifted its head to look at the dwarf. After a moment, it stood and padded over to the comparatively giant being.


    *Bop*,


    ¡°Oww!¡± Nest took a step back. As information crept into his mind. The small lion had been mad about being woken up, so smacked Nest on the nose.


    The hit hadn¡¯t exactly hurt. Nest¡¯s response was more one of habit. Like when he bumped into a table too gently to do damage, but he still formed the response without thinking.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough out of you-¡± Nest was cut off as the lion took solid form and clattered back onto the table. It was once more in the position it was originally carved in. ¡°What? Hey! Wake up-¡±


    The dwarf stopped and thought about that for a moment. Was he telling a lioness figurine to wake up? He sharply stood straight, tugging at his vest and looking side to side. Was he going crazy?


    ¡°The lion was for sure moving. Right?¡± He looked back down at it. It was still frozen in its original shape. ¡°And I found the hidden tree?¡± He slowly reached down and pulled out the knife that was stowed away in the leather sheath his old carving knife previously rested in.


    The ardite blue reflected the warm lantern light of his shop. He rolled it in his hand. Having lived his entire life in a dungeon and having traded a few dungeon made goods in that time, it was clear that this item was not made by the dungeon. It was the masterwork of one of the guild¡¯s forge monks, the only people with the skill to forge ardite in the empire. But despite its quality, it lacked the fluidity of a dungeon made item. The blade, as well as the pins that held the bone handle in place were ardite.


    A dungeon typically grew an item together. It looked eerily perfect when you focused on it. This had imperfections, no matter how small they may be.


    ¡°So the tree didn¡¯t make it. That¡¯s good. It must have just been in possession of the knife when the blade called out to me.¡± He thought about that for a moment. What if the knife had called him and the tree didn¡¯t want him to take the blade. His heart sank into his shoes for a moment and it felt like every heartbeat was shaking his entire body.


    He calmed when he realised an important fact. ¡°Right. If the tree didn¡¯t want me to have the blade, it would have just killed me. Instead, it sent me back here.¡±


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    *Knock Knock- Creak*,


    ¡°Nesty?¡± The gentle, familiar voice of Nest¡¯s mother spoke through the opening door of the shop. ¡°Nesty, are you in here? It¡¯s getting late.¡±


    In a panic, Nest tucked away his blade. ¡°Ah- Yes,¡± He dusted any wood shavings off the table in  a rush and picked up the lioness, needing to hide it. ¡°Just finishing some- uhh-¡±


    It was too late. Nest¡¯s mother entered the door and caught Nest in the act. ¡°That¡¯s beautiful.¡± She pushed her chin out as she looked across the dark room. With the night cycle in the dungeon started, the only light was the dim lantern that lit Nest¡¯s desk. ¡°Whoever that is for is one lucky lady!¡±


    ¡°Lady?¡± Nest asked. ¡°What do you mean a lady?¡±


    ¡°Nesty-¡± His mother looked at him with a look that said, ¡®come on, I¡¯m not stupid,¡¯ ¡°A young man staying late at work to carve a female lion either has a set of lions- which you don¡¯t- or is making the lioness for a woman.¡± His mother walked across the room with the power and grace of a warrior monk. She was not a sinner, but the way she moved, and the way Nest knew she could fight could convince him she was.


    The Order of the Forest was a group of monks dedicated to the traditions of the Clan of the Hidden Tree. Ceremonially, they were warriors who trained in the ancient martial arts that were supposedly passed down from the tree itself to the first dwarves who settled in the mountain. Many people, Nest¡¯s family included, believed that the clan had been in the mountain as long as the core itself. Maybe even longer. That one day, a dwarf was mining through the stone and came across the core when it was young. When it served a different sin.


    Some people, the more radical dwarves, believed that the Hidden Tree created the dwarves. That the mountain itself was the birthplace of all their species.


    ¡°Actually¡­¡± Nest lowered his head slightly with embarrassment. ¡°The figure is for you. I wanted to give it to you for your birthday tomorrow.¡±


    His mother stopped in her tracks. Even the abrupt movement somehow looked smooth and fluid. She stood straight and her shoulders lowered as her head tilted. A big smile formed across her face. ¡°For me?¡±


    Nest nodded. ¡°When I think of the lioness, I think of you.¡± Nest shared a half-embarrassed smile.


    Before his eyes were even able to come back up and meet his mother¡¯s, she was standing in front of him, taking the lioness from his hands. ¡°It¡¯s beautiful.¡± She held the possession in her hands and Nest could see the influence of their zone play through her eyes.


    This was one of a very few times Nest had ever seen his mother allow greed to impact her. One of the main traditions of her order was to resist the influence of the sin that had captured this dungeon during the crusade.


    The tree had once been a Pride dungeon when the world was balanced. Many of the order died protecting the tree when the crusaders came. When they relegated this section of the world as the zone of Greed.


    The tree was forced to give up its own sin and adopt a new one. Its first decree to their people was to never stop resisting. To live a life free of the sins of the world. Such things were for dungeons, not for the people.


    Nest inhaled deeply, scared to share what was coming next. Scared to tell her what had transpired in the recent hours. ¡°I have something else to show you.¡±