They have driven us underground, taken from us the land that our ancestors have fought and died for. They stole the sun from us! No more. We will not stay silent any longer! We will build an army, drive the Ekavar kingdom back, and reclaim our homeland!

-Excerpt from a speech by General Lon Gerevar the II

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"So, Saul, where to now?" Nick asked, a smug grin on his face. Saul groaned, along suffering noise.

I do not know why I let you have an opinion.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I think it's a great name!"

I fear for your progeny.

"You can just say children!" Nick yelled, smiling. They had continued walking down the path, chatting as Nick relished the new use of his hands, until the path ended. The shade of the lichen on the walls had been steadily changing as they approached, from an ominous red into a warm, welcoming orange. This mean t that his eyesight had been perfectly fine when he stumbled onto the abandoned kingdom buried under the earth.

The path had opened up, revealing a massive, open cave. Vaguely European in design, all of the faraway buildings Nick could see had long since fallen into disrepair. The only thing that seemed in alright condition was the castle at the center of the city. All flowing lines and flat plateaus, The construction seemed completely at odds with the more rustic architecture surrounding it. It had no walls, instead being surrounded by what looked like abandoned terrace farms, with streaks of light flowing around them in complex spirals and crosses. A small line of stairs cut through the farms, leading up to an almost naturally formed entrance. Nick couldn't see inside the black entryway, but even from his vantage point, the sight was imposing.

In between him and the city was a field of what looked to be cooled magma, forming sheets of glimmering black rock. Cutting through them were rivers of lava, like cracks into hell. Strange vegetation sparsely populated the plateaus, the only common thing among them being glowing orange and yellow leaves. Nick took a step towards the nearest one, a sapling about as tall as himself, and tentatively placed his finger against one of the leaves. At least, he tried to do it tentatively, but he had yet to manage the weight of his hands, instead sending the limb crashing into the glittering obsidian bark. With a crunch, the affected branch sheared off, sending leaves scattering through the air.

"Oops."

Oops, indeed.

Nick peered at his fist, checking it for burn marks, but was surprised to see glowing smears of yellow and orange goo. A leaf or two stuck to the wood, but they slipped off after a quick shake of his hands, something he was still amazed he could do now. A thought struck him.

"Hey Saul, are we sure these are plants? They kinda look like rocks."

I had a similar thought. They seem to be a mixture of both plant and not? My current theory is that something drastically changed the landscape, affecting the shrubbery. In simple terms, they used to be plants, but they have since been petrified.

"Wait, something made this place like this? What could make a wasteland like this?"

Something that we may be trapped in a cave with, Nicholas. I would advise caution.

"Honestly, it might as well at this point."

Pattern recognition suggests that this should be worrying you extremely.

"Well Saul, here's a question. Literally what do I do about that? Whatever it is, it evaporated a kingdom. Is me freaking out going to unexplode me when we meet this thing? No, no it's not. Now, we have some science to do."

...Very well.

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Nick's 'science' was a number of theories he had been cooking up in regards to magic. He didn't know the rules, and so the only thing he could do was try things until he figured them out. First being, Nick wanted to try talking to plants again. As much as he wanted to explore an abandoned city, the threat of painful and fiery death was more persuasive than he liked to admit. So, instead, he walked back down the hallway until he found the root wall from before. He sat down, cross legged, but before he really dove into finding inner peace, as was his new approach, he gave Saul an assignment.

"Plants grow, yeah?"

Yes Nicholas, plants grow.

"And you're plants, aren't you?"

I see where you are going with this. I will test the theory. Good luck, friend.

Nick tried in vain to hide his heart warming at that. "Good luck to you too, friend." Nick closed his eyes, his knuckles pressed against the roots. He breathed in, counting out 4 seconds, and then out for the same count. In. Out. In. A whisper in the back of his mind, like ground parting. Nick's eyes shot open with excitement, but the sensation vanished immediately. Almost the same second as he recognized the change, it was gone. He refused to be discouraged, closing his eyes once more. His meditation continued, his breath leveling out, until his mind lay empty. The process was so easy, that he might've been embarrassed about it had anyone pointed it out. But then, the rustle of wind through leaves whispered into the back of his mind. He desperately tried to hold onto it, but it slipped through his fingers. He tried over and over again, but the moment anything strange happened he focused too hard, driving the sensation away almost immediately. Hour after hour of no progress was only interrupted by the monstrous growl of his stomach.

Nick sighed, "Alright, let's find some food. Any luck, Saul?"

Not as such, but I have a theory. We can test it while you walk.

"Alright, but where are we walking to?"

If you can find a safe way into the city, we may be able to find some surviving non-perishables.

"I'm not sure this medieval kingdom will have canned soup. Or a microwave."

I was speaking of hardtack, or anything pickled.

"Where did you learn about medieval food storage?"

You read a Wikipedia article on it 4 years and 3 months ago.

"Wait, we have a photographic memory now?"

Not as such. I am just perfectly capable of reviewing everything you have ever experienced. I will be able to remind you of details such that it appears eidetic, but you will not be able to recall images with the perfect clarity afforded to the real thing.

"I know you know how to make things make sense. Why don't you?"

It is more fun this way.

"Yeah, I figured. Alright, let's head back! You can tell me your theory."

Very well.

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I believe that magic requires our active cooperation.

"Hold on, magic? Like throwing fireballs and exploding things with my mind?"

Not as such. It is about as plausible as anything else, I suppose, but I have yet to discover any mechanism for 'exploding things with your mind'. However, we already have demonstrated magic, in the use of your hands.

"Oh yeah! I guess I didn't really register it as magic because it's just making my hands work more or less like normal."

Indeed. However, I have yet to encounter a reason why they need to perfectly resemble hands, or be the current size they are.

"So you think we can make the hands less heavy? How?"

I am getting to it, Nicholas, please keep a handle on your impatience. Saul chastised. Nick looked appropriately chagrined.

The only difference I have detected is that moving your hands is an act of cooperation. I provide the power, but your will dictates the form. I can have some minor impacts on the effect afterwards, smoothing it out to make it more natural, but I require that first impulse beforehand. I have tested this while you were napping.

"I was not napping! That was very important practice, I'll have you know." Saul shot him the mental equivalent of a deadpan look, before continuing on.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Point being, I believe that so long as you make the attempt to 'grow' the wood, I will be able to take over, allowing us a lot more versatility in combat.

"I'm about to be so good at shadow puppets!" Nick yelled excitedly.

Or that, I suppose. Feel free to make the attempt.

"Way ahead of you, buddy," Nick said, his nose wrinkling with concentration. Saul fell silent as well, taking control once the impulse was directed at him. He had a lot more in depth theories about why this worked, but he had no real way of testing them until he could meet a citizen of this world. Pushing the distraction away, he began his work. The impulse was complex, and gave him a lot to work with, but he decided to start simple. In a lateral progression from articulating a hand, Saul slimmed the hand down. It was similar to working with clay, but significantly more responsive. He pushed the excess material up the arm, feeling the joint stiffen as wood climbed up his shoulders. The hands became more proportionate, and wood flowed like water up over his shoulders and across his chest, forming what seemed almost like armour across Nick's upper body. It pushed up around the neck, allowing freedom of movement without needing to be magically micromanaged, but only stretched to around the clavicle along the bottom. Nick heard Saul grunting with exertion, involuntary sounds that he hadn't know the voice to be capable of. Saul was tired, something he had never personally felt, but the thrill of doing magic kept him going. Even at all of two days old, he had adopted Nick's fascination with the ethereal.

With a deep breath, Saul decided to step it up. The hands were much more reminiscent of Nick's old ones, complete with an old scar from an event that Saul was too courteous to revisit, but he wanted to go further. Starting small, for the sake of safety, he tried to grow a branch from the tip of Nick's index finger. Nick, excitedly holding up the much more maneuverable limb, watched at the tip began glowing a gentle, wavering green. Slowly, at a rate just barely visible, the finger extended, without thinning out, but then the light guttered out. Nick's ecstatic smile dropped.

"Saul, what happened? Are you alright?"

The disembodied voice was panting like he had run a marathon. There... huff... is no cause... for concern. Huff... The task simply... huff... took a lot out of me.

"No kidding! Alright, lets hold off on the more strenuous magic for now, yeah?" He specified strenuous, because even in his exhausted state, Saul was still allowing the wood to move freely. It didn't appear to be too difficult to move the wood already there, but creating new material had completely winded a being that didn't even have lungs.

I think that may be for the best. Saul said, slowly regaining his breath. He was no longer actively wheezing, at least. The good news was, their experimentations had taken them all the way to the cavern once more. The wasteland had a haunted sort of beauty to it, though the mood was a little bit disturbed by the relatively intact city behind it. He stepped onto the plateau, getting a feel for his new hands. Now that he could actually move them with any level of grace, he was taking full advantage of it. He grabbed the petrified trees, relishing the ease with which he did so. He picked things off the ground and just threw them, watching with awe as an easy overhand toss sent a loose stone a good 60 feet, as if he had put his full force into it.

He nearly skipped over the obsidian flats, frequently stopping to observe a new, obviously magical creature. He saw beetles with long tube mouths, that seemed to be actually drinking lava by boring holes into the obsidian. They seemed relatively peaceful, but he didn't go out of his way to antagonise them. He also saw, clinging to the ceiling, something that had the construction of a stickbug. It was long and lanky, and massive, if he could see them from the cavern floor. It was covered in glowing purples and greens, constantly shifting over its body. Nick couldn't tell what they were doing, and he wasn't quite suicidal enough to find out.

Whenever he came across one of the many rivers of lava, he followed it downstream until he found a place where it had cooled. There always seemed to be specific pathways of obsidian crossing them, so he never got completely stuck. By the time he had gotten halfway to the city, Saul had recovered enough to resume their usual bickering.

"I'm just saying, I usually don't pass out from thinking too hard," Nick teased.

That may because you have never thought too hard. Saul shot back.

"Oh screw you," he laughed. They fell into silence for a moment.

"When we get out of here, however that happens, where do we go from there?"

While I am unfamiliar with the geography of this world, I believe that following the river will lead us to civilization if there is one to be found.

"You think we're the only people on this world?"

I think that this world is a lot more dangerous than the one we are familiar with. There is obvious signs of habitation, the city we are headed towards being the largest, but the fact that it is empty is a warning sign.

"If we can survive this long, then an entire civilization of people can do the same," Nick said with confidence.

I hope you are correct.

Nick continued walking in contemplative silence. Eventually, when he grew bored once more, he began prompting Saul to from new designs of the arm coverings. It was a little uncomfortable, almost like every motion had a slight lag to it when covered by the wood, but it was slowly getting better. Nick's main priority, however, was making sure the coverings looked as cool as possible. Saul cautioned him that armour should be rounded in order to deflect blades, but the idea of extended elbow guards struck him as too cool to deny. A plate extended off the forearm, ending in a jagged pattern that was carved to look like bark. It tapered to a modest point, but it wasn't really intended as a weapon. The most important thing it did, however, was prompt Saul to come up with a new experiment. Before, when he had tried growing more wood, he had tired himself out after less than half an inch of growth. However, that was solid, probably magical, and extremely dense wood. Instead, what if he tried growing bark, to actually cover the limb instead of having weaknesses carved into the piece.

Sharing his idea, Saul asked Nick to keep an eye on his palm while he focused. When he agreed, Saul got to work. Nick directed him to grow bark along the front of the palm, kind of like gloves. Saul obliged, falling silent. Slowly, Nick watched as rough, darker brown patches began sprouting from the fingertips. Saul was grunting with exertion, but progress was actually being made! Once the layer of bark reached a certain thickness, it began spreading, running down the fingers and pooling in the palm. It also extended over the fingernails, leaving little bark claws, and climbing up the back of his forearm. By the time it had reached his elbows, stretching over the extension he had made earlier, Saul was nearly as winded as he had been earlier. The growth faded, taking along with it the gentle green glow that had slowly built up.

Nick flexed his hand, checking the front and back. "Well, seems like that worked!"

Saul was panting heavily. It would appear so. I am glad our experiment proved fruitful. Exhausted though he was, his enthusiasm shone through.

"Ha, like plants, I get it."

I hate you.

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Nick approached the ominous gate, towering far overhead. Whatever it had looked like before, it was now a jagged construction, all sharp edges and short angles, with a glimmering obsidian finish. The gate hung above like the teeth of an enormous beast, ready to bite down at any second. There was a road through the gate, cobbled in the same shiny black stone, that led into a small marketplace before winding off. Hesitantly, Nick stepped inside. When nothing murdered him, his confidence grew, and he continued on. The houses all looked vaguely medieval, European, which was strange to find on another world, as Saul was quick to point out.

"Maybe it's just the best type of house?"

The only reason a house would have a pointed roof is if it needed to prevent snow from becoming trapped. Do you get the impression that it snows frequently down here?

"What about tradition? Or, what if they just thought it looked nice?" Saul fell silent, acknowledging the point. They passed a tall house, its walls an ashy grey that almost seemed white next to the blackened pillars. Nick grabbed the doorknob, slowly pulling it open, wary of whatever creature might be lurking within, but his caution proved unnecessary. The house was empty, a thick layer of dust covering every object within sight. Not getting complacent, Nick crept forward, prompting a spike to stretch out from his left hand. His forearm shrunk, looking anemic as the weapon grew. Head on a swivel, he stepped into the main room. It would have had a nice, homey atmosphere, he figured, but it had been abandoned too long for it to seem anything other than dead. Around a dining table, chairs were pulled out, plates covered in dusty, rotten food were still laid out, enough for a family of four. The chairs laid empty, torches around the room burned out.

Across from the table, a small kitchen had yet to be cleaned up from the family's dinner. Nick walked over, grabbing one of the cooking knives. He pulled the spike back, correctly assuming that the metal would be more effective than poking things with effectively a pointy stick. Then, he turned his attention to the cabinets. Hoping for a pot, or something he could use for even a small amount of protection, he opened the squeaky pantry door above his head. He had to do a double take when his exploration revealed a string of perfectly preserved sausages, a dense wheel of cheese, and several obviously fresh baked loaves of bread, still hot from the oven.

"Saul! Check this out!"

Saul, who had been zoning out, stirred back to full attention as his name was called. Is that... food?

"It is! We're good! Once I can ask the roots to let us through, we can sneak past the Manticore and get water, and then we have shelter, food, and water! Then we just need to carry a bunch of this food out, and we can follow the river to people!"

Wait, Nicholas. The other food here has clearly been left for so long as to completely spoil. We should search for the mechanism preventing this food from doing the same.

"Mechanism? I don't think it's like a freezer anything."

I meant, we should discover how this works.

"Ohhhhh. Yeah, if we can stop food spoiling for this long, we'll be set pretty much anywhere!" Nick eagerly pulled the food out, laying it on the wooden countertop, and then stuck his head completely into the cupboard.

Do you see anything?

"I feel like you'd have a better chance than I would, you saw those zombies coming from behind me!"

I was communicating with the grass they were stepping on. I do not see things in any way besides reviewing your memory of experiencing sight.

"That's, kinda sad. I'll get you a body of your own, one day."

I do not anticipate that being feasible, as we are deeply connected, but I appreciate the concern.

"Magic is real, dude! Anything is possible!"

Let us figure out to what extent that is true.

"You're right, if posh. But I can't really see anything, it's a bit too dark in there." Suddenly, Saul had an idea.

Wait, Nicholas. I believe that my growing of bark created a small amount of light.

"Dude, you're right! That's genius! Alright, ill stick my hand in there, and you can try growing stuff on it." Nick awkwardly shoved his hand into the pantry, his wooden wrist now digging into his chin. When prompted, Saul began growing bark all over. As he did, he thought it might have been a touch easier than he remembered. As a soft, green glow lit up the inside of the cupboard, Nick caught a glimpse of a series of arcane sigils, glimmering with an otherworldly blue light. He couldn't make out the actual shape of the runes, as they seemed to snake around and actively avoid being perceived.

The sight was so distracting that both Nick and Saul failed to notice the scraping and shuffling coming from behind them. The runes had them so transfixed, that they completely ignored the zombies lurking in the darkness.