《Trees that Type》


 Prologue

    ¡°Bithi!¡± A hoarse voice called into the overgrown forest, a sight not uncommon to the residents of the grove. Standing at the edge of a clearing a greying woman resting against an elegant staff sighed as the forest stayed silent in response.


    It was the fourth time this week she had stood at the edge of the grove calling into the dense foliage for a voice that dared not respond.


    ¡°Bithi Vineland!¡± The woman yelled again, her voice stern and impatient. ¡°If I don''t see you in the next ten seconds, no more pies for a year!¡±


    The bushes to the left of the woman rustled in response to the threat. A frizzled tuft of dark brown hair poked out from behind the greenery. It hesitated momentarily before its owner begrudgingly stood from behind the leaves.


    ¡°You don¡¯t mean that¡­¡± The little girl pouted. Admitting her defeat the girl walked through the bush, the leaves and branches seemingly alive parted to let her pass, and stood before the older woman. ¡°Sorry¡­¡±


    The older woman sighed, kneeling before the little girl and wiping at the girl''s cheek with the sleeve of her blouse. ¡°How many times have I told you the deep words are dangerous little leaf, I don¡¯t want you to end up like¡­¡±


    The girl shrunk into herself, hugging her own knees as she avoided the gaze of the woman. It was a sentiment the little girl had heard dozens of times before. ¡®The deep woods are dangerous. You could get lost.¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t end up like your father.¡¯


    ¡°But¡­¡± The girl trailed off, already knowing the response to her protests. No matter how many times she tried to explain, the elders didn¡¯t listen. As long as she could remember the forest called to her, a yearning deep within her soul that she couldn¡¯t put into words.


    Feelings she couldn¡¯t explain, shadows in the trees that caught her eye and no one else''s. Dreams and visions she couldn¡¯t describe. None of it made sense to her except for one thing, something deep in the forest wanted her attention.


    Sighing, the girl looked up at the woman, her eyes misty and full of sorrow.


    The woman¡¯s stern expression softened and she gave the girl a warm smile. ¡°Come now little leaf, those pies aren¡¯t going to eat themselves.¡±


    The little girl perked up, the sadness of before vanishing near instantly at the mention of her favorite treat. If there was one thing that could distract her from the yearning of the forest it was her grandmother¡¯s pies. A secret recipe the old woman dared not share with anyone except for the girl.


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    Quickly standing the girl held the woman''s hand tightly and the two walked towards the center of the grove. Looking up at her grandmother the girl hugged her, despite everything she knew how worried her grandmother got when she disappeared into the forest.


    They were all each other had left.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Baba.¡± The girl said with her face buried in the fabric of the woman''s dress.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay my little leaf.¡± The woman responded, gently stroking the girl''s hair.


    = = =


    Bithi sat atop the branches of an enormous tree overlooking the rest of the forest. A sea of greenery that rocked and swayed at the mercy of the winds. In every direction the forest seemed to stretch on forever. Sparse clouds laid shade in patches over the overgrown woods.


    Leaning back against the trunk of the tree Bithi smiled. Something about the freedom of the treetops always brought back memories of her childhood, perhaps it was the calming breeze or the soft sounds of the forest that brought her back to being a kid. She didn¡¯t know and frankly didn¡¯t care. Her younger self would have been jumping for joy if she knew the mission had been given.


    ¡°Baba would be furious if she saw me now.¡± Bithi giggled to herself, holding tightly in her lap a familiar staff. Caressing the staff her expression grew solemn, it had been a few years since the passing of her grandmother. It hadn¡¯t been a sudden departure, the signs had been there long before. But it hadn¡¯t hurt any less.


    Bithi shook her head. She didn¡¯t have time to dwell on the past, not when she was so close. She had left the grove just shy of a month ago and her supplies were beginning to dwindle. Inspecting her pack she took note of what rations she had left as well as triple checking that package she had been given was secure.


    ¡°I¡¯ve rested long enough.¡± Taking one last look over the forest Bithi stood, balancing perfectly on the swaying branch of the tree. Despite the forest seeming endless she knew she was only hours from her destination. For the forest only seemed endless, as that was part of the illusion.


    Bithi lifted the staff, the sunlight catching a jewel inlaid near one end and sparkling a brilliant emerald glow. Had she been anything other than a Druid of the Forest she might have struggled to climb down from such a tall tree.


    Alas that was not the case.


    Swirling the tip of the staff Bithi drew a circle in the air, faint green lines of pure energy tracing her movements. A simple circle etched with runes appeared before her, the intensity of the energy growing with every movement.


    ¡° [Vines] ¡°


    Bithi spoke the word with an ethereal tone, the power of her tone reverberating through the air. Vines erupted from the staff, tightly wrapping themselves around the branch of the tree as anchor.


    Bithi checked the stability of the vines before gripping the staff tightly and leaping from the branch. Her fall was cut short by the vines only for a second before they began to gently lower her to the forest floor.


    Once she had reached the floor the vines shrunk back into the staff, disappearing with a gentle sparkle of green light. Satisfied Bithi looked around, a small shadow near the base of the tree catching her interest.


    ¡°Flamb, come on.¡± She called out to a shadow. Prancing out into the light with explosive energy was a small orangish-red creature with small ears and a long wiggly tail. A Flareweasel. The creature perked up, tilting its head to the side before scurrying up Bithi¡¯s leg and resting on her shoulder.


    Without another word the pair began walking through the dense forest with ease. Hours passed without so much as a peep, the only sounds filling the air were the rustle of the wind blowing through the leaves and the occasional creature scurrying in the underbrush.


    As the two continued their journey the forest began to change, the tall oaks of the forest gave way to more exotic foliage. Vibrant flowers began to replace the uniform greenery. Moisture in the air began to wick against her skin. It was a sign that she was getting closer.


    It wasn¡¯t long until the forest she had grown up in was gone, replaced with a wilder denser jungle.


    Eventually though, as the sun began to set and the jungle was baked in a warm orange glow that filtered down through the canopy., they reached their goal. A wall of sorts, where the jungle appeared to be painted rather than real.


    With a grin Bithi placed her palm against the fake wall, the scenery on it rippling in response. As if responding to her wishes the wall began to glow, a doorway of light just big enough for her appearing against it.


    As she stepped through the doorway of light the scenery took a drastic change, the jungle teeming with life and greenery, the forest she had called home for nineteen years.


    Became concrete.


    = PROLOGUE END =

 1.01 - Little Druid, Big City

    ¡°Whoa¡­¡± Bithi had heard the stories of the massive cities outside the forest and had even visited a small town with her parents when she was young. But it had been nothing compared to the towering monoliths of engineering that stood before her.


    Exiting the barrier that encompassed and protected the forest from unwanted outsiders, Bithi found herself standing in a field that stretched as far as she could see in either direction. A sort of break between the asphalt of the city and the foliage of the forest.


    ¡°Well, what¡¯s the worst that could happen, Flamb?¡± Bithi said, trying to reassure herself, the furry creature on her shoulder nuzzling her cheek in response. Approaching the city, Bithi was met with the first real obstacle of her journey so far.


    A wall.


    Nearly twice the height she was and stretching along as far as the field itself, Bithi sighed as she looked around for a gate or way through the wall. Of course, if she had really wanted to, she could have easily cast a spell to lift her over the wall. But the elders had given her a very strong warning before she had left.


    ¡°No Magic in the city.¡± Bithi repeated the warning to herself. At first she thought it was strange¡ªno magic? From all the stories she had heard, mages and magisters were celebrated in the outside world. But for the residents of the forest, it was different.


    Forest Dwellers, Tree Huggers, Nature Freaks, Guardians of the Old. Bithi and her people were called something different everywhere you went in the world. What, you may ask, did they call themselves? Well, the answer was simple.


    Druids.


    A race that sat amongst the oldest in the world. Harnessing the power of Nature and crafting spells to match.


    Bithi sighed. At least that was how the legends went; in reality, while yes, druids held a degree of control over nature, their usage of magic was, in concept, the same as every other school.


    ¡°Guess we¡¯re walking some more.¡± Bithi said dejectedly. Deciding to follow the wall to the left, Bithi secured the pack on her shoulder and began to walk. From over the wall, she could hear the faint hustle and bustle of the city, the constant hum occasionally interjected by a shout or loud horn of sorts.


    Compared to the small border town she had visited in her childhood, the city was intimidating to say the least. A growing nervousness planted itself firmly in her psyche, but regardless, she carried on.


    As she had followed the wall, it began to curve away from the forest, the field giving way to rolling hills of the grassland. A pale orange sky beset by gray cliffs peaked with white became the backdrop for the otherwise uniform green land.


    She followed the wall for a little over an hour before coming across a change in the otherwise unchanging barricade. In the distance, an old, worn road that wound through the hills towards the forest found its end at a gate built in the wall.


    ¡°Looks old.¡± Bithi commented. The road itself was overgrown with weeds and roots sprouting up through cracks in the pavement. Even the gate was in a level of disrepair that contrasted hard with the relative cleanliness of the wall. Its design was a far cry from the modern buildings that towered the skyline behind the wall, though still far more advanced than anything she had seen in the grove.


    Once she stood in front of the gate, she could appreciate it in greater detail, though it was simply a gate. Bithi frowned; she had expected something grander than a simple wooden gate to bar her way into the city. She wasn¡¯t sure what she had expected.


    It just wasn¡¯t¡­ this.


    ¡°Do I knock? I don¡¯t even see a way to open this. I really don¡¯t want to have to go even further around¡­¡± Bithi complained to the Flamb, who had hopped off her shoulder to give the door a good sniff.


    Inspecting the door closely, there didn¡¯t appear to be any way to open it, no knocker or any sort of mechanism that would indicate a way to open. Bithi scratched her head and rested her staff against the gate. If it really came to it, would she have to climb over the wall?


    She wasn¡¯t too keen on breaking the only rule she had been given, but after a long journey, she wasn¡¯t in the mood to aimlessly wander the wall till she found a way in. After a few minutes of pondering and searching the door, she decided on the only thing that made sense and knocked.


    Bracing her knuckles, she knocked weakly at first, not wanting to give herself splinters. But the sound barely rose above the ambience of the wind rushing through the plains. So she knocked again, harder this time. And then again, harder.


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    Still, it didn¡¯t seem to do anything and wasn¡¯t very loud. Stepping back, Bithi caressed her knuckles, red soreness already appearing on the skin. Then, she had an idea; picking back up her staff, she swung, hitting the door with the bottom of the staff.


    KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK


    Finally, a decent sound. She tried again a few times, taking care to hit the gate too hard. The staff was sturdy and had seen its fair share of battles, but it was still a gift and the last thing her grandmother had given her. She didn¡¯t want to break it.


    It wasn¡¯t until the fourth round of knocking on the gate and waiting for a response that it dawned on her.


    ¡°Wait, am I an idiot?¡± Bithi stopped, planting the staff in the ground beside her and thinking for a moment. ¡°Who is going to open a gate to a massive city just because someone knocked?¡±


    In hindsight it was obvious; if someone came knocking on her backdoor at home, the last thing she would do is open it willingly. Defeated and accepting the reality that she would have to continue the wall until its end or break the rule and climb over, Bithi turned and picked up the pack she had dropped behind her.


    ¡°Come on, Flamb, let g¡ª¡±


    ¡°WHO THE HELL IS KNOCKING!?¡± An enraged voice roared from behind Bithi as she started to step away. Whirling around with her staff raised, Bithi locked eyes with a burly man wearing a slightly disheveled grey uniform, an insignia of an owl emblazoned on his shoulder.


    The angered man stood where the gate was, or rather where it had been. As if it had never been there to begin with. A slight breeze carrying a bitter scent wafted through the gap in the wall. It made the hairs on Bith''s neck stand up and the back of her throat tingle.


    ¡°WHO ARE YOU?¡± The man shouted, approaching Bithi with rapid speed. Instinctively, Bithi stepped back, raising the staff to point at the man. Was this going to be her first experience in the city? A scuffle before she had even stepped foot inside. Bithi prepared herself for the worst before she remembered something.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Bithi shouted, hurriedly reaching for her pack and rummaging through it to produce a silver medallion bearing a familiar insignia. ¡°I was sent here as an envoy!¡±


    The man stopped, his angered expression going blank in confusion. ¡°An envoy, what? An envoy of who? Why are you banging on an abandoned gate instead of entering through¡­¡±


    He stopped, the man finally taking in Bithi¡¯s rustic appearance. From the patchwork leather cloak to the worn linen trousers and simple blouse, alongside a creature he had never seen before. The man sighed.


    ¡°You¡¯re a Druid, aren¡¯t you?¡± He asked.


    Bithi lowered her staff, happy the situation hadn¡¯t escalated further. She stepped forward to let the man inspect the medallion further. Begrudgingly accepting the medallion, the man looked it over, flipping it in his palm before sighing and handing it back.


    ¡°So, a real Druid of the Forest. A real tree kisser, care to explain why you¡¯re banging on a back door to the city instead of using the checkpoint like the rest of you?¡± The man sighed, slinking his shoulders back and rubbing his chin.


    Bithi gave the man a confused look. ¡°The rest of us? Are there other druids in the city?¡±


    ¡°Are there other¡­ They gave you tree huggers a whole section of the city, ¡°other druids in the city.¡± The man scoffed as he handed the medallion back. ¡°You must really be from the sticks if you don¡¯t know that. Explains why you¡¯re banging on the backdoor.¡±


    ¡°Sorry?¡± Bithi knew there were other groves than the one she grew up in; they even traded frequently. But this was the first she had heard about Druids outside the forest. The elders hadn¡¯t told or didn¡¯t know; she wasn¡¯t sure which was more concerning.


    ¡°Come on.¡± The man sighed, seemingly accepting the burden that had just been thrust upon him. Motioning for Bithi to follow him, the little druid cautiously accepted and followed the man through the gap in the wall. A few steps past the threshold of the gap, Bithi turned back, and sure enough, the gate had reappeared as silently as it had vanished.


    ¡°How does th¡ª¡±


    ¡°Nope, no stupid questions. Just follow me.¡±


    ¡°Bu¡ª¡±


    ¡°Look, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re a sweet girl, but you¡¯re already ruining the luxury of having to do barely any work back here; the least you could do is stay quiet.¡± The man shot Bithi a look over his shoulder.


    Bithi frowned but listened, remaining silent as the man led her away from the gate. It was tucked away, hidden behind a large brick building that cast shade over the entire alley and blocked any view of the rest of the city. In front of her, the man stopped at a small booth with a worn chair and a small desk scattered with papers. The word ¡°Police¡± was written in a dated font on a plaque that sat above the door.


    Looking past the grumpy old man, Bithi was relieved she had made it into the city and was spared the torture of walking the rest of the wall. In fact, was this not a positive for her? Police were supposed to be trustworthy, at least that¡¯s what she had heard.


    Rounding the corner of the building, Bithi was met with a reality that shattered the expectations she had built about the city. Trash and filth littered the dimly lit streets, buildings in various states of decay with planks boarding up windows and doorways. A sickly man sat huddled against a building with a deranged look in his eye.


    Everywhere she looked, the grime of the city, absent of the beauty of nature, had nestled itself in firmly.


    She started to regret a few of her choices.


    Just a few.

 1.02 - Big City, Rude People

    Whilst Bithi¡¯s initial impressions of the city were filth and grime, once the two had walked a fair distance down the crumbling sidewalk, the scenery began to improve. Much to her delight, it seemed the filth from before had been an extreme, though it was still a far cry from the greenery she had grown accustomed to.


    A city, a real city. Not like the small border town she had visited all those years ago. Back in the grove, the tallest building had been the elders, a two-story wooden hall that boasted enough space for gatherings and celebrations. Compared to the brick-and-mortar monoliths of the city, the elder¡¯s hall seemed tiny. And the two had barely left the slums.


    Bithi shook her head, whilst it was a shock she had expected this much at least. It wouldn¡¯t do for her to be dumbstruck by something as mundane as a building. But as dusk waned and the last vestiges of sunlight began to fade, a whole new surprise awaited the poor little druid.


    So far, Bithi had stuck close to the man, avoiding the stares of the occasional passerby or noisy resident peering out from their balcony. She knew she was out of place, and her gawking sure didn¡¯t help to hide the fact that she was not a local.


    But she couldn¡¯t help but stare; the buildings were one thing, sure, but everywhere she looked was something new. Of course she had to speculate on what some things might do, first and foremost the metal poles with domed tops lined the road.


    She could make out some sort of rounded crystal embedded beneath the dome, but with the dwindling sunlight, she struggled. That was, until the sun finally set and the poles flashed to life with an almost blinding light.


    ¡°Ahh!¡± Bithi yelped, averting her gaze and blinking repeatedly. The spots that had appeared in her visions gradually faded. ¡°W-What is that? Magic?¡±


    The man stopped and turned to face her, an amused look on his face. ¡°Magic? It¡¯s a lamp log hog; you don¡¯t have lamps in the forest?¡±


    Bithi frowned; of course they had lamps in the forest. Oil lamps, and they were nearly this damn bright. ¡°I have a name, you know. It¡¯s Bithi.¡±


    ¡°Bithi. Bathi. What¡¯s it matter? You nature freaks are all the same. Hurry up, and stop gawking at everything, you weirdo.¡± The man said, waving his hand dismissively as he began to continue down the sidewalk.


    Bithi sighed in frustration. Thoughts of casting a bramble spell onto her staff and knocking some sense into the man rushed into Bithi¡¯s mind, but she ignored them. It wasn¡¯t worth the effort of causing a problem for someone who clearly had no interest in being polite. Instead she opted to stay quiet and appreciate the sights the city had to offer.


    She hadn¡¯t noticed it at first, her focus firmly locked on the strange vehicles passing them by and the neon glowing signs that hung in building windows. She couldn¡¯t sense any magic.


    Of course she could sense her own, a pool of pale green mana circulating throughout her body. But in the air? From the man or the people passing them by? Aside from the occasional spark, there was nothing.


    Unlike the grove, where mana permeated the very air, not to mention the plants and people, it was scarily absent in the city.


    ¡°Is there no mana here?¡± Bithi instinctively asked.


    ¡°I said no questions.¡± The man snapped.


    ¡°Oh come on, it''s just one.¡± Bithi shot. Her patience with the man is drawing very thin.


    The man sighed, his brow furrowed in annoyance. ¡°This is why¡­ Look, Bithi. Firstly, Magic is restricted in the city. Unless you¡¯re an enforcer or one of those damned Magisters. No fancy explosive sparkles within the walls.¡±


    ¡°But¡­ why?¡± Bithi asked with genuine confusion. She could understand some magic being restricted, like Eldritch or even Nature. But all magic?


    ¡°Why? she asks. Do I look like I¡¯m paid enough to know why the lawmakers do what they do?¡± The man shook his head as he sighed. ¡°Look, kid. We¡¯re like ten minutes from the embassy, and then one of your people can explain it to you, alright? So no more questions.¡±


    Bithi nodded; she had hundreds more questions, but it was clear the man would be of little help in any regard. A few minutes passed, and Bithi was deep in thought about the myriad of reasons why the city would restrict magic, none of which she could even remotely begin to side with.


    Where any other person might have simply accepted the restriction of magic, to a druid of the forest, it was like cutting out an entire piece of their life. As soon as she had dropped off the package she was given and completed her mission, she had to know.


    Whilst the elders had instructed her to visit the city to deliver a mission, they had never told her how long she could be gone. ¡®What¡¯s a few extra days? I can say I just got lost in the forest¡­ Would they believe that?¡¯


    Deciding on her course of action, Bithi looked up; for the past few minutes, she had been staring at the ground, lost in thought as she walked. ¡°Do you thi-¡±


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    Bithi stopped. The man was gone, and the scenery around her had once again deteriorated. She spun around, searching down for the man. Had he crossed the road or turned down an alley? She had been following the sidewalk without thinking about it; were they not going in a straight line?


    ¡°Good job, Bith¡­¡± Bithi groaned. The man was gone, and there was no sign of him returning to look for her. What next, she thought. Perhaps someone else could point her in the right direction?


    Approaching a younger-looking man wearing a flat cap staring at some sort of weird device in his hand, Bithi cleared her throat. ¡°Ahem¡­¡±


    The man looked up, his absent expression wrinkled in disgust. ¡°Go away, loghog; can¡¯t you see I¡¯m busy?¡±


    ¡°I just need directions¡­¡± Bithi started before the man interjected.


    ¡°I said piss off, now.¡±


    Bithi stepped back; looking closer, the man looked far less friendly than she had initially thought and decided not to press any further. ¡®Maybe someone else?¡¯


    She tried again, this time with a young woman walking up the steps to a building.


    ¡°Sorry, I have somewhere I have to be.¡± The woman said so before abruptly entering the building and shutting the door.


    And again with an older man using a cane to walk, much to the same result.


    Just when she was ready to accept her fate and wander the city aimlessly, a boy who seemed just a bit younger than she was approached her.


    ¡°Need some help?¡±


    Bithi sprang up from the bricked ledge she had sat down on. ¡°Yes! Can you tell me where the¡­ embassy, I think it was, is?


    ¡°Of course I can; I¡¯ll do you one better and lead you there myself.¡± The boy replied with a wink. He was a charming young man, a little gruff with the stubble that topped his lip, but otherwise he looked trustworthy enough. At least, Bithi thought so.


    ¡°Thank you so much! I was really not looking forward to wandering the city. Why won¡¯t anyone help me?¡± Bithi asked as she dusted her trousers and picked up her staff.


    ¡°Ahaha, I don¡¯t mean to offend, but druids are bad luck, or at least that¡¯s what they say.¡± The boy replied as he began down the sidewalk.


    ¡°Bad luck, what? Why?¡±


    ¡°Dunno, that¡¯s just what everyone says. There was a huge fuss when the council decided to give you all a portion of the city.¡± The boy shrugged as he cut into a narrow alley. ¡°Come on, I know a shortcut.


    Bithi hesitated for a second but then followed, taking care to step over the trash and questionable puddles that littered the alley. The alley was dark and a bit too narrow for comfort, but she trudged on. A moment later the alley ended, giving way to a dimly lit yard hidden away between buildings.


    ¡°Are you sure the embassy is this way? I could have sworn I was heading the other way before¡­¡± Bithi¡¯s grasp on her staff tightened. Now that she thought about it, the man had been leading her towards the buildings scraping the sky before, not away like the boy had.


    ¡°Uhh, yeah, sure. Come on, we just have to cut through the warehouse, and we¡¯ll end up at the embassy for sure.¡± The boy replied without looking back.


    Bithi stopped, examining her surroundings. Secluded, dark, one way in and out. The perfect setup to trap someone. Trusting her better judgment, she began to turn around to leave. ¡°You know, I think I¡¯ll find my own way, thanks though.¡±


    As soon as the words left her mouth, a pillar of stone erupted where the alley was, blocking her exit.


    ¡°Booo, told you she wasn¡¯t that stupid.¡± A shrill voice taunted from her left. Stepping out from behind a dumpster, a ragged girl smirked at Bithi.


    Bithi raised her staff, pointing it at the girl before another voice spoke from behind.


    ¡°Well, still stupid enough to follow Phil this far.¡± A rougher young voice replied. Whipping around, Bithi aimed her staff at the owner, a burly boy wielding a pipe.


    ¡°What do you want!¡± Bithi shouted, pivoting back and forth to keep an eye on both.


    ¡°Oh come on, even a tree-kisser like you should get the situation.¡± This time the boy who had led her spoke, the innocent, charming expression replaced with a mischievous grin. ¡°Let¡¯s make it easy, shall we? Drop everything you have, and we¡¯ll let you go without roughing you up. Hate to hurt such a pretty face.¡±


    Bithi¡¯s eyes darted between the three. She backed up, bumping into the pillar of stone. One of them was clearly a mage, but wasn¡¯t magic banned? No, not the time she needed to focus. One of them was armed; what about the boy? She couldn¡¯t make out any sort of weapon on him, but the same could be said for the girl.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hurt you; just let me go.¡± Bithi bargained; she really didn¡¯t, but what she really didn¡¯t want to do was go against the elders. For as long as she had been able to walk, the elders always found out when she broke the rules. Always.


    The original boy stared at Bithi with a blank expression before sharing glances with the other two. All three burst out laughing, the burly boy hunching over with a wheeze. Which only served to confuse Bithi even further.


    ¡°I¡¯m serious, you know! Just let me go!¡± She repeated.


    ¡°Man, hear that, Phil? A druid doesn¡¯t want to hurt us.¡± The burly boy said, mocking what Bithi had threatened.


    ¡°You see something new every time with these freaks.¡± The girl added, finally composing herself.


    ¡°Look, Druid, I''m sure your branches and leaves are very threatening. But let¡¯s make this simple and just drop the bag and staff. For such a great laugh, we¡¯ll let you go with just that.¡± The original boy offered as he unsheathed a small dagger from behind his back.


    ¡°No. Sorry, I can¡¯t give you this.¡± Bithi answered, securing the pack on her back.


    ¡°Welp, guess we''re doing this the hard¡ª¡± Before the boy could finish, a torrent of bramble erupted from the ground, lifting him high into the sky. The boy winced as painful magical thorns dug hard into his skin. ¡°What the fuck!?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to get in so much trouble.¡± Bithi sighed.

 1.03 - Hooligans

    From the expression on the boy¡¯s face, it was clear he had not expected it. In fact, all three of her assailants were struck with various levels of shock as their supposed leader, Phil, was lifted into the air. As for Bithi, she was still worried about what the elders were going to say.


    ¡°L-Laura!¡± Phil screeched as he tried to and failed to hack away at the ever-growing bramble that wrapped itself around his torso. The thorns were magical, and whilst they wouldn¡¯t cut too deep, or cut at all if Bithi willed it, the very sensation felt like matchsticks against the skin.


    ¡°R-Right¡­!¡± Laura, the ragged girl, her eyes absent of the earlier bravado replaced with uncertainty, raised her arm. A bracelet she wore inset with a clouded yellowish-brown gem began to glow faintly. ¡°[Stone]¡±


    Inches from the girl''s hand, mana began to swirl. To the untrained eye, it appeared as if the air had gained color and begun to solidify. But to a mage, the faint crystallization of mana, the technique of pulling mana from oneself and allowing it to materialize in physical space. If time had slowed, one might even observe the very threads of magic intertwining themselves together.


    But in reality it was a mere second.


    Bithi stepped back, holding her staff out in front of her. She spoke, but not verbally; it was an advanced technique, but one she had trained on since she was little.


    ¡®[Nest]¡¯


    A barrier of branches and leaves sprouted from the ground, forming a shield of nature. The stone flew, impacting the barrier and shattering into sparkles of mana as it did.


    ¡°Again!¡± The burly boy shouted, raising the pipe; he rushed forward, ready to swing. As he brought down the pipe on the twiggy barrier, it expired right before impact, bursting into a blinding glitter of mana. ¡°Aaagh!¡±


    With the boy blinded, Bithi dashed left, circling around him and dodging another stone aimed for her chest. She whipped her staff, conjuring stepping stones out of magical stumps to leap into the air towards the girl.


    However, with her focus shifted onto the barrier, the bramble holding Phil had vanished, setting the boy free. He fell to the ground with an audible thump but quickly scrambled to his feet.


    ¡°Oi!¡± The freshly freed leader shouted, but the taunt went ignored. Bithi landed a few steps from the girl, close enough for what she had planned. She twirled her staff as a magical glow collected at one end.


    Laura stumbled back instinctually, tripping over loose trash as she did. She raised her arms defensively with her eyes squeezed shut, ready for a spell to be fired her way. But nothing came. She opened one eye. ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°[Sleep]¡± Bithi prodded the girl in the forehead with the end of her staff. The last thing the girl saw before falling into a magically induced slumber.


    With the burly one blinded and the ragged girl slumbering, peaceful Bithi turned to face the leader.


    ¡°What did you do to Bruno!¡± The leader shouted as he knelt beside the boy writhing in agony.


    ¡°My eyes! I can¡¯t see!¡± Bruno screamed.


    A small pang of guilt rang through Bithi. From the audacity to lure someone into the dark and try to rob them, she hadn¡¯t expected the fight to be so one-sided.


    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine; it¡¯s only temporary.¡± Bithi felt the need to say. They were still enemies, but the dim lighting had shadowed their features. It wasn¡¯t until her spell illuminated the lot that she realized they were kids.


    ¡°You killed Laura!¡± The leader''s eyes filled with rage as he stood to face Bithi, finally noticing the fate of his second comrade.


    ¡°Killed? What? She¡¯s asleep, you barkbrain.¡± Bithi responded, lowering her staff to a neutral position. ¡°Why are you kids even trying to rob me in the first place?¡±


    With the adrenaline faded, Bithi wondered why she had been so scared in the first place. Had the stories of the outside world warped her perception of power? She wasn¡¯t sure what she had expected; her imagination had always run a bit wild.


    But it wasn¡¯t this, because no matter how she framed it, these kids were weak.


    ¡°What would you know!¡± Phil snapped back, readying his dagger in trembling hands.


    Upon closer inspection, the blade was old. Worn down to the point Bithi wasn¡¯t even sure it had a real edge anymore. And it wasn¡¯t just the dagger, the kids'' attire, their taut and greyish skin, or the trashed lot barely a dozen feet away from the relatively clean streets.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m asking because I don¡¯t know. Isn¡¯t that how a question works?¡± Bithi couldn''t contain the snide remark near the end. It was a bad habit of hers she¡¯d developed as a kid. Her never-ending curiosity had birthed an ego she had a hard time containing at the most insensitive of times.


    ¡°You¡­!¡± The boy rushed forward with the dagger poised to stab. He was¡­ slow. Slower even than the burly one. If it had been just that, maybe Bithi wouldn¡¯t have laughed. But a few steps into the boy¡¯s ¡®sprint,¡¯ his foot caught a crack in the pavement, and he tumbled forward.


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    Bithi seriously wondered where the bravado from earlier had come from. She sighed; it was her first day in the city, and not only had she gotten lost, but she had also just beaten up three wannabe hooligan kids.


    ¡°Is everyone in the city like this?¡± Bithi wondered aloud.


    ¡°Eh, kinda?¡± An unknown voice replied from behind.


    Bithi whirled around, her staff ready for another fight, but she paused.


    ¡°Who¡¯re you?¡± Bithi asked.


    It was a woman, an older woman with greying hair and the visible signs of aging decorating her features. Her sturdy build and tattoos that formed a sleeve up both arms barely seemed to match the gentle smile she wore.


    She was strong, Bithi could tell.


    Slung over the older woman¡¯s shoulder was the girl, Laura, still blissfully asleep, unaware of her current predicament. In her other hand, shopping bags bursting with food and necessities.


    ¡°Care to explain why a druid is beating on my students in a dark alley?¡± The woman asked with a raised eyebrow. ¡°No, you¡¯re new in town. Too green for a city druid; what¡¯s your name, girl?


    ¡°Bithi.¡± Despite the woman¡¯s nonchalant attitude, Bithi couldn¡¯t help but feel uneasy. If the woman wanted to, she could have defeated her in an instant if she hadn¡¯t spoken. ¡°You didn¡¯t answer my question.¡±


    ¡°M-Madam Fran!¡± Phil stammered. ¡°I-I can explain¡­!¡±


    ¡°Save it, Phil; don¡¯t think I don¡¯t know what you three are up to.¡± Fran snapped, shooting Phil a deathly glare. ¡°There I was, enjoying a peaceful stroll home after shopping. Only for it to be interrupted by Misses Lee letting me know a certain charming youngster was luring people into the alley.¡±


    Phil froze, his face drained of color.


    Bithi couldn¡¯t hold in a snicker; they really were kids. Which only begged the question of why they were trying to rob her in the first place.


    ¡°I knew you were a stupid boy, but robbing someone? What would you have done if she had hurt your kids, or worse? What would you have done if someone called the police?¡± Fran approached Phil with her hand raised. The boy¡¯s expression tightened as he prepared himself to be hit. But instead, the woman placed her hand in the boy¡¯s hair gently.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry¡­¡± Phil relented, his shoulders sagging as he welcomed the hand.


    ¡°Bithi, was it? I apologize for these brats.¡± Fran said with a slight bow. ¡°They¡¯re normally rambunctious but never this daring. Why would you brats try to rob this poor girl in the first place?¡±


    ¡°Because¡­¡± Phil avoided her gaze, staring down at his feet. He stayed silent for a moment before he continued, ¡°Someone paid us fifty dal to steal her bag for him¡­¡±


    ¡°What? Who?¡± Fran and Bithi demanded in unison.


    ¡°I¡ªI don¡¯t know! He just said if we got the bag for him, he¡¯d give us another fifty!¡± Phil shielded his face, expecting some form of punishment. ¡°I¡¯d never seen him before!¡±


    Someone hired the kids to steal her bag? Bithi wondered why they would use such a roundabout method. No, who would want her bag in the first place? The only ones who should have known why she was in the city were the elders.


    ¡°Did you get his name?¡± Fran asked. She was right; if they got a name or even a description, maybe someone at the embassy could help.


    ¡°It was¡­ huh? No, but¡­¡± Phil¡¯s expression grew worried. ¡°I-I-I can¡¯t remember! That bastard wiped my memory, didn''t he? That''s illegal!¡±


    Fran sighed.


    Bithi knew of mental magics that could alter memory, or at least she had heard of them back in the grove. She recalled one of the elders who specialized in that field. It was a difficult magic to master, so whoever had hired the kids to rob her was skilled.


    ¡°I swear you kids¡­¡± Fran sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose as she did. ¡°Well, again, I apologize on their behalf.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright, I suppose; if anything, I should apologize as well.¡± Bithi replied, scratching her head. The idea that someone was after her was frightening, but she could worry about that after her mission. By then it wouldn¡¯t be her problem. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize they were just a bunch of kids.¡±


    ¡°We''re not kids!¡± Phil blurted out before sinking back after a glare from Fran.


    ¡°Sixteen is still a kid in my books. Hell, Laura and Bruno are barely fifteen. Speaking of Bruno, go help him up, and you three head inside. It¡¯s time for dinner.¡±


    With a reluctant nod Phil walked over and assisted Bruno to his feet, the magical blinding had worn off minutes ago but the boy still struggled to his feet. As if on cue, the magically induced sleep placed upon Laura began to fade, and Fran let her down, instructing her the same as the boys.


    Fran handed the bags she carried to a sulking Bruno after the three had collected themselves from the scuffle. The trio entered a door in the building to the left of the alley they had entered from, leaving Bithi and Fran alone in the lot.


    ¡°Well, I guess I should leave¡­¡± Bithi said, breaking the awkward silence.


    ¡°So what¡¯s a druid like yourself doing on this side of town?¡± Fran inquired with a flat tone. As soon as the kids had entered the building, the motherly attitude vanished. Replaced by a darkened seriousness that set Bithi on edge.


    ¡°Uh¡­ that¡¯s not really any of your business?¡± Bithi replied. Silence filled the air as every hair on Bithi¡¯s body stood on end. Her earlier assessment of the woman was spot on.


    If Fran wanted to, Bithi would be dead.


    ¡°Can I go now?¡± Bithi asked quietly.


    The woman¡¯s eyes narrowed. Bithi instinctually raised her staff, prepared for the worst.


    ¡°Bahahahaha!¡± Fran cackled. ¡°Sorry, sorry, I couldn¡¯t help myself. Bahahahahaha!¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Bithi''s expression jumped between a mix of confusion, fear, and bewilderment. ¡°Sorry?¡±


    ¡°I was testing you; I just wanted to see how you¡¯d react.¡± Fran replied, wiping a tear from her eye as she stifled her laughter. ¡°You¡¯re looking for the embassy, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Yes, someone was leading me earlier, but I lost them.¡± Bithi relaxed slightly; she thought the woman was strange, but in a sense, she reminded Bithi of her grandmother. If only a bit.


    ¡°Well, the gate would be closed by now, and those guards are a stickler about letting people in past curfew. Tell you what, come on in and have some dinner. I¡¯ll have the brats make you up a bed, and I¡¯ll take you there myself first thing in the morning.¡± Fran offered with a crooked grin.


    Bithi hesitated to answer. It was late, and frankly, she was exhausted; a month in the forest and a day she would rather forget had left her drained. Part of her wanted to say no, but for some reason she felt she could trust the woman. Maybe it was the fact she reminded her of Baba, or perhaps she was just curious about her in general.


    Bithi wasn¡¯t sure, but she was sure about one thing.


    ¡°Dinner sounds great.¡±

 1.04 - Quiet Breakfast

    The next morning, Bithi awoke to an unfamiliar ceiling. Memories of the night before flooded back as she groggily sat up in the bed she had borrowed. As part of the apology for her kids attacking her, Fran had let Bithi stay in one of the spare rooms in the orphanage.


    ¡°An Orphanage¡­¡± Bithi grumbled to herself as she plopped back against the pillows. It was a strange concept to her, people abandoning their children for another to raise. If, like hers, a child''s parents passed or left in the grove, it was the job of the collective to raise and nurture those left behind.


    The orphanage was only the beginning of a long night of weird and foreign concepts getting shoved into Bithi¡¯s brain. For every question answered, a dozen more took its place.


    Electricity, cars, laws, cellphones¡ªwords she couldn¡¯t even properly remember. It hadn¡¯t truly hit her how different life outside the forest was until she had sat down and talked with people.


    Lazily snuggling back into the soft bedding, she closed her eyes again. The constant yet strangely calm hustle and bustle of the city outside the windows reminded her of the forest. While the sounds were different, the ever-present presence of life was comforting to her.


    She rolled, stretching her legs out and letting them flop down as the blood rushed through her sleepy limbs. As much as she hated to admit it, she felt like she could sleep forever; her bed back in the grove might as well have been a stone slab compared to the divinity she lay upon now.


    But she knew she had to get up¡­ eventually.


    After about fifteen minutes, she finally gathered enough courage to peel herself from the bed and stand. Luckily she had brought a change of clothes on her journey; supposedly it was rather frowned upon to wear the same clothes every day in the city. Bithi still didn¡¯t get that one.


    Donning her simpler spare outfit, she fumbled with the door handle to her room for an embarrassing amount of time. Finally she unlocked it and stepped out into the hallway of the orphanage¡¯s third floor. Decidedly small, but for the inhabitants, it was still the largest building Bithi had ever been inside of.


    The room she was given for the night was situated at the far end of the hallway opposite the stairs leading up. The only other person who stayed on the third was Fran, the orphanage''s owner. As for the other half dozen or so rooms, Bithi was told it was for storage, but she couldn¡¯t even begin to imagine what would require so much space.


    Making her way to the stairs, being sure to step quietly so as to not wake Fran, she descended to the ground floor and entered the dining room. A large oval table surrounded by a hodgepodge of different chairs sat in the center of the room with two doors flanking either side. One led out into the yard from the day before, and the other led into a small kitchen.


    Down the hall past the stairs, Bithi could hear the faint murmurings of the orphanage¡¯s already awoken occupants. It had not only been the three hooligans from before who lived with the old lady. Almost a dozen children, some as young as five, lived under the protection and care of the strong woman.


    ¡°What a kind lady.¡± Bithi whispered to herself. Despite the woman''s gruff exterior and strange sense of humor, Bithi had learned just how much the kids meant to Fran the night before. She had listened to each and every one of the children¡¯s recalling of their days with such intent for even the most mundane of things.


    No one could fake such a warm smile.


    Left with a warm, fuzzy feeling, Bithi felt she could take on anything the city had to throw at her.


    Grrrrowl


    After breakfast, of course.


    It wasn¡¯t long before the rest of the orphanage awoke, some more pleasantly than others. Bithi sat patiently in the dining room with her bag and staff beside her as a stampede of children raced down the stairs not long after her.


    ¡°Bacon!¡± A young freckled boy shouted. Jon was his name, one Bithi would surely not forget given how loud the boy was.


    ¡°We had bacon yesterday, sausage!¡± A younger boy responded, Lulo, slipping past the blockage at the bottom of the stairs and racing into the kitchen. In just one dinner, Bithi knew the boy was rather nimble and quite the mischievous one.


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    ¡°G-Guys¡­ You¡¯re going to wake up, Auntie¡­!¡± A timid girl, trying to talk over the commotion, warned. But his warning went unheard or ignored; Bithi wasn¡¯t quite sure which.


    Entering from down the hall, the few already-woken occupants joined the rest, and soon enough, all the children of the orphanage were crammed into the dining room. Taking their seats, all of the children filtered into the chairs. The three from before chose to sit at the far end of the table away from Bithi as they had done the night before.


    All of the younger children had welcomed Bithi in with open arms and simply chatted with her as if she had always been there. But the old three, aside from a few coerced apologies, had opted to avoid her.


    Bithi didn¡¯t mind; while she was still curious about the identity of the mysterious man, she knew the kids were sincere in their regrets.


    ¡°Hello, little Douglas.¡± Bithi was greeted with a warm smile.


    The youngest member of the orphanage, a little boy named Douglas, had waddled up to Bithi and begun pulling on the leg of her pants. He had done so the night before as well after the boy went through a brief period of what Bithi could only describe as confused shock.


    Lifting the little boy in her lap, much to the happiness of the liftee, she situated him snugly in her lap before scooting her chair in.


    ¡°Comfy?¡± Bithi asked, to which Douglas responded with an enthusiastic nod. Bithi giggled, letting the boy play with a magical orb she conjured just for him.


    ¡°He seems to have taken quite a liking to you.¡±


    Bithi jumped slightly as Fran spoke to her. She sincerely wondered how the woman walked so quietly, and from the expressions of the kids, so did they.


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t mind. Most of the children back home are scared of me, so it''s a nice change.¡± Bithi responded as she twirled her fingers, causing the orb to pop into a sparkle of light.


    ¡°Real shame you¡¯ll be gone after breakfast then. In the two years that boy¡¯s been here, I¡¯ve not once seen him warm up to anyone like that.¡± Fran told us as she hefted a sack of vegetables out of a cupboard in the corner.


    ¡°Ha ha ha¡­¡± Bithi didn¡¯t know how to respond. It wasn¡¯t as if she had any responsibility to the orphanage or the city at all. It had been a strange twist of fate that placed her there at all.


    Yet, seeing the innocent twinkle in the boy¡¯s eyes as he clumsily swatted at the flitters of light, she felt guilty. Of course, she would be staying in the city for a while after delivering the package. There wasn¡¯t anything, or anyone, that said she couldn¡¯t come visit the orphanage while she was there.


    ¡°Moss and leaves¡­¡± Bithi whispered to herself. It was something her grandmother used to say, a sort of mantra. Though Bithi had never been told the meaning behind it, she had forged a meaning of her own behind the words.


    ¡°Jon! Lily! You know what day it is; get in here!¡± Fran shouted from the kitchen, eliciting a groan from two of the table''s occupants. Slinking from their chairs, the energetic boy and timid girl entered the kitchen.


    It wasn¡¯t long before they reemerged alongside Fran bearing a small feast of food. The younger kids roared, eagerly picking up their silverware and beaming from ear to ear. After the table was set and the food served, Fran took the seat beside Bithi.


    ¡°Alright Douglas, time to eat. No, don''t fight me; Bithi needs to eat too.¡± Fran sighed, lifting the protesting boy from Bithi¡¯s lap and depositing him on her own. Soon the chatter of the table was hushed by hungry mouths and full bellies.


    Once the food was gone and the table cleared, most of the children filtered out of the dining room. Some returned to their rooms; others left for something called a job, leaving just Bithi, Fran, and a sleepy Douglas.


    ¡°Thank you for letting me stay here and for the food as well. It was very generous.¡± Bithi thanked with a bow.


    ¡°Don¡¯t sweat it, kid; even if those hooligans hadn¡¯t done what they did, I¡¯d have let you stay.¡± Fran replied with a slight grin.


    ¡°Still, thank you.¡± Bithi repeated.


    ¡°Ah, alright, alright, you¡¯re going to make this old lady blush. Let me get this little goober in bed, and I¡¯ll take you to the embassy.¡± Fran said, lifting and cradling Douglas in her arms. With the same eerie deftness as before, Fran ascended the stairs without as much as a creak, leaving Bithi alone.


    Bithi smiled. She was sure Fran had her own circumstances, and part of her wanted to ask how she ended up running the strange place called an orphanage. But she knew better than to pry; everyone had their journey and secrets. Even her.


    ¡°What a lovely place.¡± Bithi spoke to no one.


    ¡°What, this old crap shack?¡± An unfamiliar voice replied. Startled, Bithi spun around to face its origin. An act she was starting to get tired of.


    ¡°Hi?¡± The voice''s owner, a woman roughly the same age as Bithi with messy orange hair and pale yellow irises, greeted with a confused look.


    ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°Fia, who are you?¡±