The Storm King

The ninth-tier tree sprite looked much like Leon had last seen it: huge, powerful, but rather timid in what body language Leon could parse. However, perhaps as a sign of its growing trust, instead of bringing Leon inside of its tree where he assumed it was most powerful, it met with him out in the open.

Or, Leon wondered, perhaps it was a sign that it didn’t trust him at all, given the fragility of soul realms and the probability that it had last met him in its soul realm.

Regardless, he found it hard not to read that something had changed given the change in locale.

Following the fight through the research facility, Leon and the eighth-tier tree sprite accompanying them reaffirmed their tentative alliance, and not long after, everyone, including Leon this time, found themselves being teleported back to the goat man village. Unlike the last time they were here, however, they weren’t swarmed by hostile monsters controlled by the tree sprites. They were still watched like hawks by the other eleven eighth-tier tree sprites, but the one that had accompanied them into the research facility escorted Leon to the central ethereal tree. There, amongst its gargantuan roots, Leon again met with the ninth-tier tree sprite.

It was hardly the most auspicious of meeting locations, but at this point, with the expedition having essentially failed, Leon wasn’t going to be too picky. He just hoped that maybe he might be able to get something, anything, out of this meeting, even if that was just a fragile peace deal.

Last time, the ninth-tier tree sprite had communicated with him through thoughts, not using language but instead using darkness magic to transmit images and associated feelings. It was an efficient enough method of communication, but it still left certain things open to interpretation.

This time, instead of communicating in such a way, the eighth-tier tree sprite remained, and acted as a translator for the ninth-tier sprite.

“We thank you for the destruction of the Pain-Bringer,” the eighth-tier sprite said on behalf of the ninth, the rich orange amber gem that it had created resonating, emitting the sprite’s alien voice.

“No need,” Leon replied. “He was a mutual foe, so I would’ve killed him anyway at some point, I’m sure. Even if he continued with his deception…”

He waited a moment for the ninth and eighth-tier sprites to get on the same page before he received a response. He could already tell that this was going to be a very stop-and-start conversation if he had to wait for every response.

“Intentions matter less than deeds,” the eighth-tier sprite said. “When interests align, that is when good events are brought about. Why you aided us in the killing of the Pain-Bringer matters less than the fact that you did.”

Leon smiled. “A fine philosophy, I suppose. Thank you for helping me get through that place, it can’t have been easy to be in a place that represents such horror to your people.”

He waited again for a response.

“We do what we must when an enemy reveals themself,” the tree sprites replied.

Again, Leon smiled in appreciation. However, his smile thinned as he asked, “How about me? Am I an enemy? Are my people considered enemies?”

“That depends on you. We are not of the mind to continue hostilities, so long as such attitude is shared.”

“It is. I would like nothing more than to continue this alliance.”

The wait this time was longer than usual, and Leon couldn’t help but think they were debating the prospect of a more permanent partnership. He began to quietly prepare arguments why working with him would be better than staying here alone, as well as trying to school his attitude to not seem overly desperate. He really didn’t want this expedition to be a waste of time, and an alliance with a ninth-tier tree sprite and its powerful kin would be a huge boon to his growing power.

Unfortunately, the tree sprites soon replied, “We will not leave this forest. We wish only to be left in peace. We’ve been harmed enough by your kind.”

Leon chuckled self-deprecatingly to himself. ‘Of course they don’t want a permanent alliance,’ he thought. ‘They were slaughtered by my Clan.’

Aloud, he said, “That’s disappointing. I was hoping that we might be able to mend fences, but I understand your decision. Personally, I’m more than a little jealous that that’s even an option for you. I grew up far to the north in a forest much like this one—even with its own local tree sprites—and I never thought much of leaving until it became a necessity.

“Anyway. The last time I spoke to you, I brought up the possibility of salvaging what’s left of the research facility, but I never got an answer from you before we were so rudely interrupted. Have you given the idea any thought?”

“You wish for the works of that place to be yours?” the tree sprites asked. Leon couldn’t quite tell what emotion they were trying to convey given just how inhuman the amber voice was, but he treaded a little carefully around his response.

“I have my own goals,” Leon replied. “My Clan’s crimes led to its downfall. I wish to rebuild it, better than before in every way. I don’t know if that’s even possible, but I have to try. And to do that, I need all the help I can get. If there is anything down in that wreck that might be able to help with that goal, then I have to try and find it. Even if all that’s left are a few broken golems and the power crystal.”

The ninth-tier tree sprite began walking forward, approaching Leon as he explained his motive. Given its height, it towered over him, but it was so nervous that Leon never once felt the need to take even a single step back as it approached.

As it drew to within arm’s reach, it slowly, hesitantly, extended an arm toward him. Leon felt no hostility from the creature, so he didn’t react too much even as the tree sprite laid its hand upon his shoulder.

He felt power swirl about them, and he briefly saw glimpses of other tree sprites in a forest much like this one. It took him a moment to realize that it was a vision of the forest as it was before the arrival of his Clan, when the tree sprites lived peacefully undisturbed by the rest of the plane.

As he saw the tree sprite’s past, he felt certain that the tree sprite was seeing his, too. There wasn’t any proof that he could see of it happening, he just felt that it was true, as if the gentle power around them had linked the two of them together, joining them, letting them understand each other better than they could if they relied only on speech and body language.

After a few moments, the tree sprite pulled its hand back, and the visions that Leon saw ended. The tree sprite took a few steps back, settling into a more comfortable distance, but still stayed close enough to show how much its trust in him had grown.

The eighth-tier sprite stepped forward and again offered its amber for speech. “We are old,” the sprites said. “There are few of us left here. It’s gratifying to see that some of our cousins in the north have survived to this day, though it is only small comfort in the light of our losses after your people came here. We wish for peace. That is why we exert our control over so much of this forest: to ensure our own serenity, and the serenity of the forest. All who live here fall under us, and with us, they know peace.

“We understand now that you don’t want to disturb our peace, you merely seek your own. Peace… and justice. Peace… and vengeance. Such feelings, we understand.

“Our alliance was meant to be short-lived. We wanted you gone. We wanted our peace returned to us. It seems to us, however, that the best way to ensure that you leave us to our peace is to give you what aid we can and wish you the best in your endeavors.”

“You’ll let us salvage the research facility?” Leon asked, his heart accelerating in excitement.

“We will do better than that,” the sprites replied.

The ninth extended an arm again, but it was too far away to touch Leon. He almost stepped forward to make it easier until he realized that that wasn’t the sprite’s intention.

Instead, power gathered around its arm, and a white, translucent flower, resembling a beautiful, ethereal lotus, glowing in the gloom of the early evening down in the roots, bloomed upon its arm.

“A bud,” the eighth-tier sprite explained. “One that wished to leave and found a new forest. One who wished to understand the people without, rather than its kin within. We are not all in consensus that remaining within the forest with our peace is desirable. We wish to extend our alliance to this bud, and have it join you when you leave. Show our bud the outside, help our bud to understand.”

The flower grew and grew at an alarming rate, until the ninth-tier tree sprite seemed to have turned its own arm into another small tree. The flower’s roots reached down into the soil at their feet as its petals reached upward, toward the meager light seeping down to the roots. When it finished a few seconds later, a tree sprite stepped out of its long, thick stem.

It appeared very similar to the other two tree sprites, though without such exaggerated height. It was about Leon’s height and possessed of all the same features—or rather, lack thereof—of its kind: two enormous black eyes set in a roughly triangular head; long, thin limbs; and bark-like skin. From its head sprouted a hair-like mass of vines and wide leaves. It radiated an aura of about the sixth-tier.

It was powerful, though not so much as to be alarming, or to pose much threat. It stood before Leon as the flower behind it wilted, then dissolved into motes of light that quickly faded into the growing evening darkness. Sap emerged from its arm, then congealed and hardened into amber on its wrist, allowing it to speak just like the eighth-tier sprite.

“Greetings,” it said in a softer, though still in a resonant and completely inhuman voice.

“Hello,” Leon politely replied.

The eighth-tier sprite continued, “Our alliance shall stand so long as our bud remains with you. We hope this alliance proves fruitful.” The sprite seemed like it was through speaking, but a moment later, added, “And one more thing. For aiding us in the destruction of the Pain-Bringer, whose demise warrants greater reward given the potential you sacrificed in carrying it out.”

The ninth-tier sprite, still holding out a hand, conjured something from its soul realm, the object appearing in its hand with a flash of arcane light. As far as Leon could tell, it was some kind of wood, little more than a roughly-hewn chunk with reddish bark still coating one side.

However, contained within that chunk of wood was what he could only describe as a startling amount of lightning magic. As he stared at the wood, it rumbled with contained thunder, and then flashed as lightning arced through the cracks in its bark.

“This is one of the things that the Pain-Bringer studied,” the sprites explained. “We stole it upon our escape. Though the Pain-Bringer is dead, and all his knowledge lost with him, this is one of the objects of his study. We hope that any knowledge he sought, you might discover.”

Leon reached out, his fingers trembling with muted excitement, and took the chunk of wood. As soon as his fingers closed around it, he felt the lightning contained within it surge through him, the wood connecting with him almost like it was an extension of his body. Putting it into words was difficult, but it was a similar sensation to how his new pseudo-Adamant armor and his genuine-Adamant sword behaved. But those pieces of his gear had been made with either his blood, or the blood of the Thunderbird herself, and contained their shared power. It acted like a part of his body because, in a certain respect, they were extensions of his body.

But this piece of wood did so without any of his blood, and he stared at it in awe. The thing contained so much power… On its own, it wasn’t a game-changer, but he’d never seen such magic packed within something without it being enchanted.

“How did… How?” he asked, his awe keeping the words from properly forming upon his tongue.

“It was made a long time ago,” the tree sprites explained. “A freak event. A bolt of lightning struck a tree and was captured within. The bolt lingered on in that tree until your kind found it and chopped the tree down. Only that piece of it remains, but the excitement they displayed upon finding the tree is a strong memory. We see that their excitement is now reflected in you…”

Leon smiled and nodded like a child given a much-desired gift, though he’d not consciously wanted such a thing until this moment. But what this represented was a material that, if he could create more, might prove just as powerful and useful as Adamant, without the need to bleed for it, or to expend great time, effort, and resources in the creation of it.

Or, at least, not the blood. He supposed creating more of this kind of wood might take up much of the latter, but for the moment, he allowed himself to dream big.

His eyes then drifted toward the patiently-waiting sixth-tier tree sprite and wondered if there wasn’t some way they could synergize their skills. The ninth-tier sprite was captured by his Clan for its mastery of nature magic, after all…

And then he remembered the Hesperidic Apples just waiting to be grown back in Occulara, and his smile grew wider. Elise was a fantastic herbologist, and Helen was a great alchemist, and here was a being that could amplify both of their skills greatly, if it were amenable. At the very least, so long as it stayed with him, he would certainly have plenty of work for it to do.

“Thank you,” Leon said, showing nothing but sincerity. “Thank you.” He took a deep breath and relaxed slightly. While adding a strong tree sprite to his retinue and potentially gaining access to a new crafting material were already enough to make this trip worthwhile, even if they weren’t what he originally expected to walk away with, he felt like he shouldn’t entirely monopolize the gains made here. “Is there anything that can be done for the others?” he asked. “Many were killed here in the forest, and the Princess who led them lost an arm. I don’t want to seem ungrateful, for that would be the furthest thing from the truth… but I’m wondering if any help can’t be extended to them after all of this.”

As he spoke, Leon thought of Cassandra. The Princess had lost consciousness again shortly after being teleported to the goat man village, with her three mages and Helen seeing to her as best as they could. As he thought of her, his own left arm fiercely tingled, and he recalled those few days when he’d lost an arm to a vampire attack. He knew that such injuries weren’t permanent for those with great resources, and he didn’t think for a moment that her loss of an arm would last once she returned to Evergold, but still, he couldn’t help but wonder if there wasn’t anything that could be done now.

“The power to restore the dead to life is not one we possess,” the tree sprites said. “We cannot help you.”

Leon grimly smiled and decided not to push his luck too far.

“Are there any more questions you would like answered?” the sprites asked.

‘On the other hand…’ Leon thought with a sly grin as he looked up toward the ancient runes entwined with the upper branches of the central ethereal tree.

“You seem quite adept at using the ancient runes,” he observed. “How did you learn? Would… would you be willing to teach me how it all works?”

“We cannot,” the sprites answered simply. “These works were given, not created by us.”

“Given? By whom?”

The sprites didn’t answer him.

“OK,” he said. “Fair enough. I suppose I only have one question, then. What’s going on between you and the local manticores? They seem hostile to you…”

“These beings resent and reject our peace,” the sprites answered. “We do not force it upon them and try to maintain our peace with them anyway. They consistently refuse to abide by our peace, and so we are dragged into conflict time and again with them.”

“But you don’t wipe them out?” Leon asked. “You seem perfectly capable of it, so why not just run them right out of the forest? Like you do with humans?”

“Peace with humans is a difficult thing to maintain, and we do not believe that it would be maintained. It would also require giving up part of our forest again and again. The manticores, for all that they resist our peace, do not destroy our land. Your kind would not do the same.”

Leon shrugged. “Fair enough,” he said again. “So, is there anything that you wish to ask me?”

“When are you leaving?”

Leon almost reeled like he’d been slapped. “Right now, if that’s what you want. I’d just like to poke around the research facility, maybe pick up those destroyed golems and other bits, and then we’ll be on our way.”

The ninth-tier sprite nodded, though it was stiff and looked uncomfortable doing such a thing, and then turned around and walked into the darkness of the central tree’s extensive roots, not sparing even a goodbye as it did. The eighth-tier sprite said, “We will allow you one day. Begone by the second.”

It was Leon’s turn to nod, and after an awkward pause, he turned around and began walking away with the sixth-tier tree sprite, seemingly his ninth retainer, in tow.