TR: 47

Chapter Forty-Seven: Arbolom

Kade kicked the pinecone along the dirt trail as his mind wandered about to distant memories.

His gnome companion trudged along in measure, casting worried glances askance as he mumbled his disapproval of the place. Their horses plodded along beside them at a gentle pace, seemingly unaffected by the forest’s odd presence, though from time to time a perturbed flick of the tail or a folding of an ear told that they, too, felt it . When Kade pressed their captor for answers about the forest, “We must remain small”, was his only explanation.

Kade had no idea what he had meant. The hooded man had been unremitting in their pace and just as unforgiving in his communication with them; other than a few glib words to direct them here and there, he had otherwise ignored them. The more they carried on in that fashion of exclusive silence, the more Kade had begun to feel like a prisoner–like an item. The man was cruelly cold, as distant and unapproachable as hope was in that moment.  Scrubby was convinced that they were being lead deep into the forest where the man was preparing to devour them with friends–beasts–who waited ravenously. Or, another theory–and one Kade thought more plausible–he aimed to lead them astray so that he could murder them and abandon their corpses, left to the devices of the forest and its scavengers, never to be heard of or seen again. Although, it made little sense to him why someone would abduct someone and go so far out of their way to dump the bodies; the man had had ample opportunities over the last several days to dispose of them in ways and places that no one would ever be able to find them. And yet, there they were, in Arbolom, a million kaldar a way from anything. So, there was that. Despite all the gloom surrounding them, Kade did his best to remain optimistic, if not for himself but for the gnome. He even remarked that the man didn’t look the ‘cannibal sort’, though this did little to assuage Scrubby’s nerves.

Though Kade had heard of Arbalom in stories, he was not prepared for the real thing. Whether it was the low light or his eyes playing tricks on him, the forest seemed to have a glow about it, almost an aura, as if the light was softened and diffused; light permeated everything there, from every gap in every bush, every opening between every tree, every shadow impossibly deprived of its ominous nature. And the air was different as well: a thin haze had settled down on them, low-lying clouds, translucent rose-colored vapors. The effect was similar to that of the heat wave one sees at a distance, hovering above an endless road on a summer day. Yet, despite all this, the energy was somehow peaceful, though it was apparent that something was…off. How he knew this he could not say, but it was almost as if the forest itself was trying to tell them something was wrong.  Kade had felt a similar feeling several times before: their run-ins with Chester at the gym; with the horse at the oceanside, transforming into a bloodthirsty kelpie; climbing the cliffs to Falkner’s where they faced the maternal rage of the Roc; and most recently in the royal garden, which led them to their current predicament. It was if all of these events were connected somehow–which seemed ridiculous of course–but there was no denying the feelings. More, the feelings told him it was all tied to this blue haired man that led them–the man from his dreams.

The man from his nightmares.

Kade was still unsure who this man was, but he had his suspicions. It was no secret that the prince of Brazen City had been assassinated; this they learned from the many rumblings they heard along the pass from the expats who were fleeing the city. So, it was natural to conclude that this man was somehow involved in that, perhaps, the cause of that. He certainly looked the part. Of course, they both took special care never to mention such an accusation, lest the man overhear it. In the end, the only information Kade had about him were mental sketches that he had formed in his head based on what he thought he knew, and a barebones story Scrubby had told him. According to the gnome, back in the city he overheard a conversation in an alleyway between an innkeeper and another where they had just escaped a throng of rioters that had gathered in the square. Apparently, one had seen an assassin up on the rooftops by the belfry of a watchtower. They were still in disbelief, unable to understand how such a distant shot was possible with throwing knives. And as the chatter continued, Scrubby learned that the plot was much thicker than that; out of the crowds arose some sort of…vigilante–an unidentified man in a hood who pursued the prince’s assassin. Scrubby elaborated how he had listened raptly as the innkeeper explained how the man shot out of the masses like a missile, soaring through the air with supernatural prowess and grace, landing atop the roofs and chasing the other out of sight. From there, the story only devolved further into obscurity and the gnome lost his patience, proceeding onward to smuggle a pint of ale from a nearby storeroom.

Of course, the unsaid question running through both their minds was whether or not their captor was that hero…or the villain. Neither said it outright, but by the passing glances they shared at times, they both knew it was a shared concern.

Lost in his distracted thoughts, Kade ran square into the rear of the hooded man’s ivory steed. Startled,  he rubbed his head and met the gaze of the man standing idly by his horse. Or, rather, he met his unmet gaze as the man stared off in the distance, his head cocked to the side, a look of concentration on his face. It was a rare moment where Kade got to take in his captor’s face; his complexion seemed to be cut of stone, chiseled cheek bones and a sharp but strong nose that hinted at a long line of good genetics. His golden circlet glinted in the overexposed light, the ruby set in the center shining like a bead of fire, and his cerulean strands of hair glimmered as if they too were made of metal. The man certainly cut an imposing figure.

“What…” Kade’s voice was cut off as the man reached out and placed a hand across his mouth.

They continued to listen in silence like that for a time, Kade not daring to make an attempt to remove the man’s cold, clammy hand from his face. Kade couldn’t hear anything. He had no idea what they were supposed to be listening for. And then, suddenly, it donned on him exactly why the man had stopped them so: he couldn’t hear anything.

There were no other sounds around them.

There were no bird calls, no animals rustling through bushes or leaves… It was as if the entire forest had been abandoned. Kade couldn’t believe it had evaded him up until that point, but in hindsight it made complete sense that something had been bothering him since they first entered Arbolom; subconsciously, he had been walking in a vacuum all along, only his inner being had noticed it. But what did it all mean? The man removed his hand and began to tether the horses’ leads around a nearby low lying branch. Kade and Scrubby approached him reluctantly.

“What did you hear?” Kade whispered.

The man acknowledged them with the briefest of emotionless glances before returning to his knot.

“What happened to all the birds?”

The man finished fastening the ties and motioned for them to come.

“Come. We’ll leave the horses for now. Follow my lead and don’t make a sound, understand?” He spoke to them in a quiet yet firm tone, one that was meant to brook no argument.

He got none as the two nodded in agreement. As they walked through the forest, Scrubby leaned into Kade, whispering.

“Make no noise, he says? Is that some kind of joke? There isn’t any here to begin with. In all my years, I’ve never heard of a silent forest. It’s unnatural, I tell you!”

Kade agreed, although he did so silently. While there were, more than likely, terrifying things in Arbolom, he knew nothing about them; what he did know was what this man leading them off into the unknown could do, and that was very real to him. And so, they carried on in that pregnant silence, filled with the dread of what was and what might come, until their captor parted a bush and wandered off an overgrown side trail. The man payed little attention to his followers, pushing aside branches with little consideration to their elastic rebound. After getting smacked in the face several times, Kade learned to keep behind. Scrubby didn’t have the same problem due to his short stature, of course, and did his best (though it wasn’t very good at all) to hold back a fiendish giggle every time Kade took one up the side of the head. The roughage was unforgiving: amidst the smattering of evergreens was a thick undergrowth of dense salal, prickly salmonberry and wild rose, tearing at his skin and clothes as they slowly won the war of a million micro-battles. Somehow, Scrubby seemed to avoid getting caught up. Kade thought it likely had something to do with living in a forest his whole life.  Their taciturn leader also didn’t seem to be bothered by it, though in his case it was obvious that his full suit of body armor could be thanked for that. And like the gnome, the man also had a supernatural talent at producing little to no sound, and with all the dry underbrush and rustle of foliage, this was an impressive feat. Yet, among all the abilities that the man seemed to possess, a was a terrible host. Scrubby had illuminated this very point earlier in one of their many clandestine conversations, explaining that the man’s behavior would be grounds for exile in his hometown:

“If trust is the key to our city, rudeness is certainly the lock.” He had explained.

As Kade reflected on their time there, he saw a motion ahead–the man holding up his hand–and the two of them stopped.

“Wait.” He said.

The light danced wildly across the metallic surface of his gauntlet. Kade hadn’t noticed it before, but it appeared that the metal had an anisotropic quality to it, the color shifting between silver and blue in the light, depending on the angle at which one perceived it. Scrubby, too, was drawn to the gleaming armor, as if he hadn’t noticed it prior. Out of curiosity, in a bold and perhaps suicidal move, he gently lifted a corner of the man’s robe in an attempt to peer under. Almost instantly, the man jerked the cloak away, rounding on the gnome with hellfire in his eyes.

“What are you doing?” He snapped.

Though his voice was barely a whisper, it had an edge sharp enough to remove the gnome’s adventurous hands and send him bolting behind Kade for safety. The man turned his attention back to whatever had attracted it.

Kade was about eighty percent certain the gnome had shit his pants.

Kade carefully sidled up beside the man to see what was so important, but was not tall enough to see over the bush in front of him. He parted the branches until light shone through a hole about the size of his head. On the other side there was a thicket and a scene that left him quite breathless:

In a small glade, surrounded by dense forest, there stood two strange characters deep in conversation. The sun shone down on them full force but they didn’t seem to be enjoying any of its splendor. One of the creatures was a man–or partially so; his upper torso resembled a topless, muscular human but his lower half was that of a horse, everything from the navel down. Though he hunkered over the other in what appeared to be a gesture of consolation, the creature still stood taller than all of them. Aside from the fact the half-man was like nothing Kade had ever seen, it didn’t strike him as particularly odd, for some reason. Perhaps, it should have, but he suspected that it had something to do with the forest, playing tricks on his mind.

Centaur. Kade thought, harkening back to the Fae fables of his youth.

But this centaur was nothing like the beasts from the stories he grew up; this one had a neatly combed red beard, formed to a point which looked like a slick fiery mass protruding from his chin. His hair was the same color, combed back and tied off at the nape of the neck with a ribbon, and on either side of its head protruded two spiral horns out its temples, like a ram. It was almost if this centaur were some kind of…gentleman.

Though, Kade noted with childish amusement, the creature had monstrous genitals.

Despite its intimidating appearance, the expression on its face was soft, concerned, as it gently cradled another creature in its arms. The creature it held appeared to be a woman, though she too was not quite what she seemed. She was much smaller than the man-horse, her body sleek and slender compared to his, and she had long, flowing blonde hair down to the small of her back, with various kinds of colorful flowers weaved into the strands. Atop her delicate forehead sat a crown of vandyvine, blossoming bell-shaped ivory flowers, framing her weeping face like a halo. Her dress was made of some kind of white, diaphanous material, strapless across one shoulder and braced at the waist with a braided rope embezzled with tiny, meticulously-placed leaves. Her garment left little to the imagination and Kade blushed as the light revealed more of her feminine figure than perhaps he had been prepared to see. Before he tore his eyes away a glistening caught his eye; there, on her back were two of the most stunning wings he had ever seen. They were not quite insectile in nature but nearly so, though their shape suggested something more graceful, like that of a falcon. Kade looked down as he heard a moan from below, the gnome having parted his own hole through which to peer through. Scrubby showed zero restraint and outright ogled the poor woman, undressing what was left with his eyes.

“Careful, or your tongue might fall of out your mouth.” Kade quipped.

Scrubby startled and, embarrassed, glared up at Kade before he disappeared back into the forest, grumbling angrily. Kade shook his head and turned his attention back to the glade. The faerie woman (for, surely, that must have been what she was) seemed to be in distress, sobbing as the centaur spoke gently to her, stroking her long flaxen hair as he cradled her in his arms. Kade listened carefully to see if he could pick up on their conversation.

“…it can’t last forever, Chaia. We’ve gone through hard times before.” The centaur’s voice was deep and commanding, but surprisingly soft at the edges.

“I know, Pascus, but not like this.” Her voice was high, wispy like the wind. “Why did they have to take her? Oh why her, Pascus? Why her?” The faerie broke into more sobbing and buried her head in the arms of her beastly friend.

“There, there.” Pascus gently stroked her head. “The others are waiting for us, so we shan’t tarry any longer. Come, let us set this right. We will have time to grieve once this is all over.”

The faerie seemed unconvinced. She wiped her eyes and looked up, glancing over to her side at a long crevice which bisected the glade, trailing off into the forest on both sides. Though Kade could not quite make it out from his position, it appeared to be a stream.

“Days and grief seem to be indiscernible as of late…it all blurs and blends together to become one great, nasty mess.”

Pascus nodded understandingly and stood up, rearing high above the fragile woman. He held out his large, bulging arm to help the faerie to her feet. Her delicate hand was nearly swallowed in his great grasp, though he exercised the utmost care in helping her, as if she were a fragile piece of glass. Once she was standing, bare feet in the dirt, she extended her wings, as if preparing for flight or, perhaps, allowing them to stretch. She wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand, sniffling away the last of her sobs as she became resolute. Or, perhaps, numb. Pascus turned and motioned into the woods.

“The gathering is happening, we must not miss it. It may be our only chance to drive them out. It’s what Fiu would have wanted.”

Chaia nodded and turned to go. She stopped halfway and looked back over her shoulder, looking around the glade until her gaze settling on Kade’s position. Her stare lingered there for a protracted moment, the ever-so-slightest delay, sharing his gaze. Kade’s heart raced at the fear of having been discovered. She spoke:

“Here, we will all make our last stand.”

Was she speaking… to him? Kade didn’t know what to do. As his mind raced with options, she turned and ran off into the forest, the centaur galloping after, the plodding sound of hooves fading into the wilderness beyond. He counted to thirty, allowing himself to be bathed in the silence that followed, and he let out a long sigh of relief. He pulled his head out of the bushes and turned back to the others.

“Well, that was close.”

No one was around to answer. The other two had vanished, leaving no sign as to where they went. Maybe they went back to check on the horses? As Kade turned to go back down the path from whence they had come, a soft mumbling drifted toward him, coming from back in the glade. He crept slowly back to the edge of the thicket, peering through the bush once more. Expecting to see the two strange creatures once more, this time it was entirely new couple: the two strange creatures he had been travelling with. His estranged companions were crouched over at the edge of the stream, staring into it, strangely transfixed. Kade cursed under his breath and stormed out into the clearing.

“Hey! What’s the big idea leaving me like that? I could’ve gotten lo…” Kade stopped mid-sentence as he caught a glimpse of the stream before them.

Instead of the normal course of water sluicing along as one would expect, a thick, viscous liquid the color of gold sat heavy in the riverbed. The aroma of pitch hit his nostrils, but there was something off about it; there was the sweet scent of pine but also an underlying noxiousness, like a poison masked. As Kade walked up to the others, his eyes went wide as he looked down upon countless dead creatures, suffocated and frozen in time, preserved in their final, agonizing moments. There were squirrels and other rodents, turtles, frogs and even milkbats, probably lured too close by the insects who were in turn drawn to it. As far as the eye could see,  there were casualties along its length, which told of other innumerable unseen tragedies.

“What is this stuff?” Kade asked.

He crouched down and poked a finger into the golden liquid, his finger coming out covered in a thick, sticky substance resembling syrup. He raised his finger to his nose sniffed.

“Tree sap?”

Scrubby nodded. “Yeah, it’s strange isn’t it? Whatever is causing this has to be even bigger than Mekin’del’aa in Koth-ga.”

Kade raised an eyebrow at the gnome. Scrubby caught the look and returned it in kind, placing a hand on his hip.

“What? You think you humans are the only ones who have elder arbia?” 

“Arbia? What are those?”

Scrubby covered his face with his hand in embarrassment. “You truly are hopeless, aren’t you kid? Have you been living in a hole these past twelve years?”

“If you count shit-holes, then yes. Besides, Gnomes live in holes, don’t they?”

Scrubby’s face flushed. “We do not live in holes! Our subterranean cities are renowned architectural marvels! Of all the nerve, I…”

“How many times do I have to tell you two to shut up?” The hooded man interjected.

The two went silent as a tomb. The man shook his head as he remained hunkered over the river, his arm extended down into the sap, working at something Kade couldn’t view from his position.

“By the Thirteen, has the Council truly got me fetching fools now?” he muttered under his breath, though loud enough for the others to hear.

They remained in awkward silence for a time, until the ever-looming boredom crept back in. Kade slowly leaned over toward the gnome who Kade was not entirely sure hadn’t turned to stone.

“What are arbia?” he whispered.

Scrubby bit his lip. Clearly, the gnome didn’t want to die, but his ego got the best of him.

“Great trees. How can you not know about them?” He hissed under his breath.

Kade thought about it for a moment then shrugged. “I don’t know… I’ve seen a lot of big trees in my time. What’s so special about it?”

“These aren’t just any big trees, you dolt! We are talking elder arbia here–as in ancient, First Era kinda old. Like, your grandma’s grandma’s grandma’s grandma’s grandma’s…”

“Okay, I get it. They’re really old. But what makes them so special? Back where I live, some of the old growth near the base of the mountain is probably several thousand years old. Wide around as a transport is long. They’re cool and all, but not really that rare. The industrial revolution was a long time ago, you know. It’s not like logging was a thing yesterday…”

“Kid, your history is about as atrocious as your gnomeology. The First Era was hundreds of thousands of years ago. It’s even thought that the Kaldan planted the first arbietta–the elder saplings–though that depends on who you ask. Fey folk don’t tend to give much weight to human tales, so it’s entirely possible the Yan planted them first. More likely, in fact. But more important, pretty much every culture planted one to call their own. It’s said the seeds were gifts given to the first societies by the Thirteen, with the hopes that they would cultivate them over time, until they were tall enough to act as portals to the heavens themselves. Like a reward, for taking care of them. And I’ll tell you a little secret…”

Scrubby paused, glancing over at the cloaked man to make sure he wasn’t eavesdropping. He was about as interested in them as a troll was to a salad. He placed a hand against his mouth and leaned toward Kade.

“…they do.”

Kade frowned at the gnome as the punchline sailed over his head.

“They do what?”

“The arbia–they do lead to other realms. Or, at least, some of them. Once they’re high enough.”

Kade pondered the thought then and then a smile split his face. “Wait. Are you saying… it’s actually trees that are the door to the True Realm? And here I thought it took a lifetime of extreme meditation, studying the arcane arts for generations upon generations, grueling failure after failure…”

The gnome’s expression darkened. “Why do I get the impression you are mocking me? Fun fact: of all the higher races–if humans can be called that–only mankind is dull enough to use sarcasm.”

Kade’s smile faded. “That can’t be true…”

“Oh, it is. Sarcasm is heavily frowned upon in Fey culture. Disingenuousness has caused almost as many wars as heartbreaks. Our kind evolved norms and laws to rise past it.” A wicked grin spread over Scrubby’s face. “Did you know that in some dwarven cities, a snide comment would lead you to the chopping block?”

“Chopping block? Wait…I thought you said the Fey were modern….”

Scrubby’s face flushed red. “You. Are. So. Difficult! I thought for sure I would die getting eaten by some….unnamable horror in these woods, but now I’m not so certain I won’t die of an aneurism.”

Kade shrugged. “Eh, you’ve still got time. There’s lots of woods left, yet.”

Scrubby shook his head. “You see, there it is again. Chopping block, I swear.”

Kade frowned. “Sure. But I’m actually interested in these arbo…arbia things. No joking this time. Can you tell me more?”

Scrubby sighed. “Listen: I can’t tell you much. Zale–my hometown–your intrusion there was unprecedented, and there’s a reason for that. Historically, humans ruin everything so we have to make sure that our towns remain unknown to them. And others. Gnomes have many enemies, it turns out. But there are other reasons as well that we need to live in isolation. Several of our great cities house the arbia; two have their own elder arbia, known as arbiel. I can’t tell you which ones, nor where they are, but you can trust me when I say they are something to be admired. And you can also trust that, for several reasons, many would love to get their hands on them for…unnatural purposes.”

“What do you mean unnatural?”

Scrubby took on a dark tone. “Arbiel are incredible sources of magick, Kade. Their bark alone can make some of the strongest potions and tinctures known to alchemy. Several of which are deadly poisons, if combined with other common ingredients. And not to mention if a shadowling were to get their hands on one…”

“Shadowling?”

“Shh! Shh! Keep it down, will you? Do you want to call one right to us? You will, at the rate you’re blabbering about! And surely, they are about in this…this…dreadful place!”

Kade swallowed, his seconds-ago confidence suddenly vanished. The gnome continued.

“Surely, you know by now there is magick all around us. In every living thing. In every dead thing. Heck, even in the rocks, some say. None of it is inherently good or bad, but it can be used for both purposes. Shadowlings are those that would use it to do harm to others. There is great power in destroying a life, and with that great seduction. I have felt it myself, standing at the base of the arbiel…”

Scrubby trailed off, his eyes glazing over as he stared into the distance, reminiscing.

“So…the arbiel are…evil then?”

Scrubby shook his head as he snapped out of his spell. “No you dolt! Weren’t you listening to anything I was saying? The arbiel are powerful, and that much power can be used to do great good or great damage. So, you can see why a shadowling–or their masters–might want access to one. It’s the main reason we must keep the locations of them secret. The secrets are guarded almost as heavily as the atriums in which they grow. And that’s the way it should be.”

Kade pondered the notion of heavenly trees until his eyes caught a glint in the distance.

“What is that?” Kade asked.

Scrubby stomped his foot on the forest floor. “You humans are impossible! Don’t you listen to a thing I say? I already told you that the arbia are…”

“No, not that. That.”

Kade pointed over Scrubby’s shoulder to the hooded man who was now dipping some kind of metallic object into the resinous runoff.

The man looked briefly over his shoulder before turning back to his work. “Effluemeter.” he said, tersely.

“What’s it do?”

The man continued to ignore him, too involved in whatever kind of work he was doing. Kade carefully wandered over to the man’s side, being sure to leave a healthy bubble between them. He squatted down beside him, glancing cautiously at the man’s face–or what he could seen of it, anyhow. Kade truly wasn’t even on his register. It was like they were invisible to him. Scrubby came up beside Kade, brushing against his jacket. Kade jumped in surprise.

“Spook much?”

“Takes one to know one.”

Scrubby opened his mouth to retort but, seeing the man barely a blade away, thought better of it. Instead, he glanced down at the small instrument in the man’s possession and nodded all-knowingly.

“Yes, an effluemeter. We use them as well. It’s a meter used to measure the flow of current in a liquid. It tells you how fast any particular substance is traveling–the rate. And, also, how much of that substance is passing from one point to another–the flow. It’s quite useful actually.”

Kade raised his eyebrow at the gnome. Scrubby looked up at his condescending friend and furrowed his brow at him.

“What? We’re not dwarves, you block-headed bigot! We have technology too, just like you. It’s not like we live in caves and eat mud for Phygis’s sake!”

Scrubby glanced back to the effluemeter as the needle settled on a number and the hooded man pressed a button which caused a red light to flash, a beep to sound.

“Actually,” the gnome said with a refined air of conceit, “some would say that our technology has even surpassed that of the humans.”

Kade scoffed at the gnome as he shot him a sarcastic look.

“And that’s why you still live in dirt?”

Scrubby’s face went a dull shade of red.

“We don’t live… what makes you… of all the pompous…”

“Are you two incapable of shutting up? Or, maybe, just not taking directions.” The hooded man said, narrowing his eyes dangerously at them.

They gulped back their words and nodded in deference. The man shook his head in agitation and resumed his work. After a moment of silence, Kade leaned close to Scrubby and whispered in his ear.

“Tell me about these trees again?”

Scrubby arched his shoulders, looking over at the man, in fear of breaching their oath to silence. He did not seem to pay them any mind.

“You’re no better than your friend–always playing with fire.” The gnome whispered back, bitterly.

“Come on, just tell me. It’s so bloody boring in here.” He nagged, still at a whisper.

Scrubby sighed then motioned Kade to follow. They wandered a way’s off as to not disturb their captor. Once they were sufficiently out of earshot, Scrubby continued.

“I thought that anyone who was anyone would know these kind of things, but it seems like your ignorance knows no bounds. So, I guess I am obliged to tell you so that you don’t end up embarrassing yourself in every forest you set foot in.”

Scrubby cleared his throat.

“Depending on what you believe, it is said that in the beginning, after the creator had molded the realms and built the world, the very next thing they did was imbue it all with a percentage of their power. These are what you humans call the flows, though they have many names. And the Creator was so so proud of their accomplishment that they wanted to create connections to the higher realms, so that those living in beneath them would be able to see their true masterpieces. These connections are what we know as nodes, and they are basically channels to powers beyond this world. Because the Creator was in the stage of creating life, they decided that lifeforms should take on this role, almost like a…metaphor, I guess. And so they created a tree for every forest that, legend says, touched the heavens and graced even the nephilim with their presence. Each tree was placed on a different continent, or at least what was to become each continent, and became a sacred force thereafter. But one cannot just find an Elder Arbia. These trees reside in protected realms themselves–a kind of sacred grove, you might say. And only those bestowed with the ancient knowledge passed on by generations of generations of ancestors have access to their whereabout. For you see, because the trees harness channels to other worlds, they are essentially conduits of those realms’ power, which is an incredibly tempting prospect for one looking to abuse it. Our realm is one of life, so the trees here channel that lifeforce to the beyond, and in turn the powers of the other realms can be channeled to here, if one is sufficiently trained and equipped.”

Scrubby paused, collecting his thoughts. “So you see, these trees which were not truly trees were the Elder Arbia, and their progeny would go on to be the other arbia we find across the globe to this day. This is what you might have heard called the Great Sequence or the Sequence of Origin, which basically says that the seeds sowed from the trees became all of the first creatures. After that, well, it was just a game played between Mother Nature and time, as evolution took over. Nevertheless, these connections remained throughout history. And because we are made from them, we, too, have these connections. It’s strongest in living things, but it is shared between all things, because all things stemmed from the Creator. Those with a more acute awareness of it are what we call magical creatures, or kerdaii in my tongue. Those with little or no awareness we call huggim, though, to a gnome this is hardly an insult. We pride ourselves on staying away from that kind of thing. Meddling with magick only ever brings trouble, let me tell you. But it still remains that all things have this connection, which means that if the tree falls, all things connected to it would also suffer. You see that sap there, that’s like the blood of the tree. Except, that blood is chock-full of energy–energy that calls to others like it. Living things. Especially, those that came from it. Or, at least their bloodlines way back. It must be like screaming in their veins–a wailing they can’t ignore. And I have a feeling that this stream here, somehow, has something to do with all of these poor, lost creatures which have been drawn into its snare. And, maybe, all the bad juju that surrounds this place…”

Scrubby hugged himself, shivering as he looked around nervously at the woods surrounding them. Kade considered the gnome’s lesson for a time.

“So, what you are saying is that this sap is like some kind of magical liquid that represents… the connection that we all have to each other?”

Scrubby shrugged. “More so the creatures in this forest, but sure, you’re not wrong. It could affect you and me in some way that we’re not aware of. It’s better to think of it as the blood of the earth, and if the earth is bled out, well… like anything else…you know what happens.”

Kade frowned in confusion. “I don’t understand. Then…this sap–this life force, is…bad?”

“No. What gave you that idea?”

“Then why are all of the creatures drawn to it and then killed when they get too close?”

“Because too much of anything is still too much.” The voice of the hooded man interjected from behind them.

They span around towards him as he stood up from the stream, wiping the sap off of the the rod with the edge of his cloak. He telescoped it back into the base of the meter and attached it to what looked like a utility belt hiding underneath. He stared at the two with a level look, somewhere between admonishment and pity. He motioned with a nod of his head to the far bank of the stream. Kade and Scrubby wandered cautiously over to where the man had signaled, stopping at the edge of the stream, where they shared a mutual gasp.

A young faerie girl, akin to the woman they had seen just moments before, lay unmoving on the far bank. She appeared to have died in a last-ditch effort to pull herself free, but remained half immersed at the hip, facedown in defeat. Liquid gold poured from her mouth, pooling out into the large sticky puddle which had collected around her. It was like the golden aura she had once possessed had been bled out of her, like a melted halo. Her eyes had a pleading look behind the gloss of pitch that told of terrible suffering in her final moments. It was now clear this was who the other two fey creatures had been grieving.

The hooded man made his way promptly downstream, the same way that the two creatures had made off. Kade and Scrubby gave one last sympathetic glance at the drowned faerie girl before exchanging one between them. No words were exchanged but both their eyes said it all:

Was this the kind of fate that awaited them?