Vol. 2, Ch. 74: Sprouting Seeds
Later that afternoon, Neska followed Syra to the outskirts of town, where the town guard waved them through. Going through the main gate from the academy didn’t raise any attention, though when they were leaving Rivilat by one of the eastern gates, one of them raised a hand to wait.
“I don’t normally get too many Awakened going out on field trips out of town. What’s your business?”
“I’m visiting a friend of mine. She’s in the druid grove just east of town, in the Sharp Woods,” she answered calmly. “You do realize we cannot fit every single Awakened on campus, not with some of the biomes required, yes?”
“Yes, yes, I know, just checking, miss. It's in my job to ask questions; I meant no offense.” The guard tipped his helmet, looking at Syra’s paperwork, and smiled politely. “Alright, you’re all set. I know that there was that huge kerfuffle on Friday, so do be wary that the Varadur are trying to probe for weaknesses."
“We’re hardly easy targets,” Neska said, tilting her hat. It had occurred to her that she did that quite a bit. Maybe she had a love for hats before becoming a snake, then? “Thanks for the warning. It’s only a short trip there.”
It wasn't a particularly long walk, though Neska noted that people gave them stares as the two of them headed out to the Grove.
“How come you didn't have Juni or Brent come with us?”
“Well, as I said, she's a little bit shy. She prefers meeting people in small groups. Her and I have talked a little bit over the past year or so when I was in a shared class for basic survival training. Anyway, they have this small area where there's like a druid grove for the academy, and there's also a place for regular ranger classes to stay with their spirit animals and the like.” Syra had let down her hair, sighing contentedly. “Feels good to get out of the academy, even though it’s just a hop, skip, and a slither away.”
“Slither. Hah.” Neska laughed softly at the elementa’s word choice. “Any idea what to expect?”
“Nah. Not a clue. If nothing else, it’ll give you some time to see the rest of the world, and not be cooped up in the dorms, doing questionable chemical experiments, self-poisonings, and dodgy rituals.”
“Nothing terrible has befallen me thus far. I try to be careful. Though the tongues part was strange,” she replied. “Juni and Brent, of all people, are at the library after class, looking up the other thing we mentioned.”
They didn’t have to leave the main road, as the woods were visible down the road and leading into the foothills to the east. Large leafy trees with a mix of sharply scented conifers and other evergreens were interspersed by numerous households and farms. People–mostly children- waved at them. A boy commented that snakes couldn’t be witches.
She respectfully disagreed with that.
Farmland gave way to a quickly thickening forest, with wild flowers lining the pathway. The road was frequented by patrols of the Valos military, who waved in a friendlier manner than she had expected.
At least they knew the score of things and what the Awakened faced on the frontlines.
The road intersected a branching path, and Neska noted a small settlement. The building construction was simple: log cabins with metal-lined roofs. For one brief moment, Neska was reminded of the rustic, laid-back village of Peolein.
She stopped and peered at the smoke drifting from one chimney, wondering what she had left behind. Nothing but ashes.
Syra saw her falter and looked at her in curiosity. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah. I'm fine. It’s just…” she trailed off. “I've lived one life already, and it ended, and I only have brief glimpses of it. How do any Awakened deal with that? How do they not just…be overwhelmed by that gaping void from before? Or worse, remembering everything, even to the final moments?”
“We don’t get to choose what we do and don’t remember. I still remember. Those memories won’t ever let go of me, Cassia,” Syra said softly. “But I keep fighting for a day until we're free of the Varadur threat, and those gaping holes can start to heal. Someday.”
She pointed to a gathering of young men and women bustling about, harvesting lumber from a local grove of trees; others planted new trees, with the help of a man wearing a strange, leathery jacket and shroud, with a cowl over his head. He waved his hands over the small saprolings, murmuring.
She was more surprised when the sapling twisted and twitched slightly, and its nascent trunk grew a little thicker, the bark skin toughened, and darkened in color. “It’s always amazing how some classes work,” Syra whispered, following Neska’s gaze. “There’s so much I barely understand about some abilities. It almost looks like your [Rooting Hex] ability.
“Not quite. I’m sure their ability has its uniqueness,” she said casually. They continued and came across what looked like a large guild hall, with people entering and leaving. Neska noted that most of them appeared to be students wearing light leather armor or jackets, going about their routine and hurrying to what was presumably an assembly of students on one side of the clearing.
More interestingly, she could hear various animal calls, including bird screeches, and the roar of either a bear or a large feline. Distantly, she could see a few students with animals either sitting next to or even perched on them.
She heard somebody calling out in a bold tone, instructing people. Syra pointed to a nearby mill pond, where it looked like a giant beaver was clearing out dead wood. “See, we aren’t the only ones out here.”
“And what does the beaver evolve into?” Neska asked, intrigued.
“Something with even sharper teeth? I dunno. Aren’t you the one knowledgeable in monsters?”
“Not all of them. Plenty of things to learn.” Syra led them along a dirt path to a clearing within the woods, where a large patch of flowers, fruit-bearing trees, and bushes sat in semi-organized rows. "Maybe it evolves into a dire beaver that can fell steel, stone, giant monster limbs with its forceful bite."
"I just had a horrific image, Cassia. Yeah, no thanks," Syra shuddered.
No one else was around except for a few students in academy uniforms, studying under the shade of a tree, or attending the nearby class assembly.
A soft hum drifted through a faint breeze that picked up, the mid-afternoon sun starting to dip down toward the mountains to the west. The city of Rivilat and the academy slowly cast a growing shadow over the valley. She heard the humming continue, growing slightly louder.
Who’s singing that? She slithered toward the trees near the center of the forest glen, and the humming grew in strength.
She spotted movement between the bushes. To her surprise, the bush began to shake, and the branches twisted and bent, all arcing to a hand waving calmly to the rhythm of the humming.
But not a human hand. This hand was colored green, ended in small black claws, and its skin appeared to be almost barklike. Neska nudged Syra, only for the elementa to be slightly fluid, and the lamia only succeeded in getting her sleeve wet.
Syra shied away. “Sorry. I go all fluid sometimes. It happens. Accidental wetting comes with the territory, yeah?”
Is that…a euphemism for something? Never mind. Neska sighed softly. “Don’t suppose you can dry it off, can you?”
“Yep! Wash on, wash off!” She twirled a finger through the air, and motes of water hovered off the sleeve, then slid back into Syra’s hand, her skin rippling like water. “Oh, speaking of which, Hey, Brienne! Are you in?”
“Oh. Visitors. How delightful.” Neska heard the shuffle of leaves, and the bushes snaked and moved aside to reveal someone on the other side. When they came into view, Neska was stunned.
She’d seen this creature before, in images only. A woman about five feet high in academy robes appeared, her skin was a verdant green, her eyes carried an almost amber hue, though her hair took on a darker, almost earthy tone. Small vines or roots wrapped around her limbs and occasionally slid across her green body. Towards her chest and torso, she appeared more human…ish, and she smiled faintly as she bowed to the two of them.
Neska returned the gesture with a slow bow of her upper body, one hand clasped to her chest. “Greetings. You must be Syra’s friend.”
“Yes, it has been a little while. Come to water my garden again, Syra?” the nymph asked in a soft, almost childlike female voice. It was the kind of voice you’d want to hear if someone were to sing a lullaby, or a slow song to round evenings by a warm fire and in the company of friends.
“Well, yes. It has been a while since it rained, hasn’t it?” She walked up to the woman and hugged her gently, with a few roots tapping onto Syra and…extracting water?
Neska turned away. This must surely be an intimate moment for the two of them. “Do you two…uh…need a minute?” she called out over her shoulder.
“Oh, not at all. This is how kindred creatures of nature greet one another,” the woman said, soft green eyes looking at Neska with curiosity. She slunk around Syra, who was almost squealing with joy and trying to keep herself from getting too wound up in the background.
“I didn’t know you were a nymph. I don't think I've seen any on the main campus,” Neska said, turning to face the woman who walked as if gliding on air. Small vines grew and shrank as she walked across the grass, then extended a hand to her.
Neska looked down and shook her hand firmly. Despite the barklike texture, her skin felt surprisingly warm. “I’m Brienne. Greetings. You must be Cassia, yes?”
“I am. Uh, Lamia with a few…oddities,” she added vaguely.
The nymph tilted her head, and elven-like, lengthy ears that almost looked like leaves followed in turn. “There is something about you that is different. You have a power over nature too, don’t you?”
“I can conjure roots and other plants. May I?”
She slipped a few paces back and reached out to the earth for her [Woven roots hex]. With all the growth nearby, it wasn’t hard to conjure and reinforce. The nymph watched with brightened eyes, extending her hand to touch the slowly growing roots as Neska shaped them into a truss shape.
“Fascinating. A sister of nature. This would seem to be within the powers of a witch or a druid, yet you are neither. You’re an Awakened like me.”
“I thought nymphs were humanoids,” Neska asked, still focusing on slowly shaping the roots to make a woven structure.
Within a minute, she’d formed a small natural root trellis, with the woodlike roots making an arch over her head, complete with a small bloom of pink and blue flowers at the apex. The nymph smiled coyly. “Nymphs were technically classified as monsters, though with humanoid intelligence. I also think you’re showing off.”
“I wouldn’t call it showing off so much as pushing my ability to be creative,” she replied. The nymph had such an intense gaze, yet such soft features–
Whoa, where are these thoughts coming from? Think snakey thoughts. Wait, no, snakey thoughts lead to snugs. Which is the same thing. Neska cleared her throat and pointed to the trees in the clearing. “Those are frost apples, aren’t they?”
“You recognize them. How?”
“Normal apple trees have a lighter coloration and a different texture to the bark. The skins also carry a touch more blue to them,” Neska pointed out. “My witch–uh, the person who took care of me before I Awakened, taught me things.”
“Syra, I think I like your new scaly friend. She’s quite knowledgeable," the nymph said, brushing aside her dark hair and motioning them forward to walk with her. Neska found it intriguing how vegetation tracked and followed her movement, regardless of what plants were nearby. Guess they weren’t kidding when they said nymphs have an unnatural allure to plants, people, and snakes alike.
…Vivi, are these thoughts, um…normal?
I am steering clear of this one, Neska. I have little insight into social mingling other than the fragmented memories in your mind. You’ll have to find your own baseline on this one.
That was a rather odd statement. Okay. I’m giving this one any more thought than the notion that I find Brent, despite his cocky attitude, quite interesting and in need of snugs to tell him that he is not a lone wolf.
You just gave it a thought. Just saying.
Fine. I will totally have no thoughts about any of this and follow the alluring nymph. Brienne noted her silence and pointed to a small cluster of vines. “Know what those are?”
“Summer Bells. The yellow flowers fade quickly, and they form a citrus-type fruit, which you normally would find on a fruit-bearing tree or bush. Excellent in restoring afflictions impacting Attributes, if refined,” she said with perhaps too much information.
“Brienne, you’ve been warned. The snake knows things. Careful now, or you might not have just vines and roots hugging you,” Syra laughed. Neska shot her a silent glare, which made her laugh even harder. “You are clingy in a loveable way! Ah, I should have had you bring Juni.”
“I’m sure she and Brent are fine. Juni’s fast on the study work,” Neska reminded her. “Brienne, I have a question or two. Do you know what elderwood is? We’re trying to find groves within a few hours of the campus.”
“It is a toxic tree, to the careless,” Brienne stated as she walked along paver stones to a small lodge set up where a few students idled on a bench, either reading or talking casually to one another. Moss slowly grew in her footsteps, then slowly faded to bare stone as they continued. “Why are you looking for it?”
“One of our professors was attacked. One of the poisons used came from elderwood. I know it degrades fast, so it must have been made locally, and by hand, to avoid arousing interest. We lack knowledge on where the groves are located, but I know what they like. Shady areas, acidic soil. If we find their harvest spot, we might be able to find a trail to them directly.”
“Walk with me for a moment.” Brinne glanced at Neska, who pouted.
“Yes. That walking part might be difficult for a while,” she replied with a soft laugh after a moment to let the awkwardness soak in. Brienne led them down a faded dirt path to a small stream flowing to the mill pond nearby. Neska herself wouldn’t mind taking a splash in the summer heat, but maybe that could wait until later.
“I saw you were using your roots in ways beyond what your Tier would suggest. You have good control of it. But you’re not a witch.” She stopped, and turned toward Neska. “Or are you?”
“I have powers that mimic it. The [Rooting Hex] was one of my first. It’s handy…when I'm near anything resembling vegetation. Not so useful underground, though, or in rocky or urban areas. I have others. Control of embers, and a witch’s mana bolt, to name a few.”
Brienne shrugged. “Interesting. You comment that your root has limitations. I would say your imagination is the only limitation. What have you learned about your powers so far?”
“That…” Neska trailed off. Was this a test of some kind, or a possible germination of an idea? “Creative solutions are often the best paths to growth. If I had to sum it up in a few words, based on my own experiences.”
“What keeps you from using your roots just anywhere? Perhaps in a barren desert, where there is no life at all, or in the toxic, barren landscape of the ashen fields of Fengras Peak, to the far east, or the other volcanic islands of the western oceans?”
“I…I don’t know. I always assumed I’d build other powers as backups, in case one doesn’t prove useful for a given situation.”
Brienne walked under a pine tree, and as if on cue, a pine cone dropped neatly into her hand. She offered it to Neska. “Where does all life start from?”
“Hard to tell. Life’s a cycle. Or so I’ve been instructed repeatedly,” she added with a soft hiss. “The whole snake and Ourorobos thing gets brought up a lot.”
She canted her head, smiling politely. “Syra, where does life begin?”
“The ocean? That’s what my mom used to say. We came from primordial beasts that grew curious to see the world above the waves,” the elementa answered, picking up a pinecone and making a disgusted sound when she got pine pitch on her fingers. “Is this a riddle, Brienne? It sounds like one.”
“A riddle, perhaps, but one worth thinking about. Where does all life start?”
Neska saw Brienne glance at the cone in her hand, the way her hand caused the small recesses of the cone to open up. Okay, where does life start? Not in death, but actual life. Babies. Saplings.
No. Something before then, even. Eggs. Maybe seeds?
“Seeds. All life starts with the potential as a seed, or an embryo, for living beings,” She answered. She pointed to the cone in her hand. “That contains dozens of seeds that are dispersed through animals that eat the cone, and deposit them elsewhere, such as small mammals or birds.
“Good answer. And where do your roots originate from?”
“I…” she trailed off. “I suppose from organics within the soil. Something has to be there already to start from, or from planters within the interior of a building. I can’t draw the roots from just anywhere.”
“But, what if you could?”
“Are you suggesting I carry a bunch of seeds around? That’ll make me even more attractive in a bad way to birds,” Neska said dryly. Syra snickered off to her side. “Or, specific seeds?”
“Have you tried it before?”
Neska narrowed her eyes. Like this pinecone sitting in Brienne’s hand, an idea was germinating in her mind. She picked up a loose pinecone off the ground and began removing the individual petals of the woodlike material.
“You know something, I like the way you think. I want to try something out.”