Goodbyes and Safety

Tucking themself inside a groove in the trunk, in a hope to hide from further view, Wanderer began to climb their way up the trunk, a difficult and slow task with their injured shoulder.

A slight relief came when Emio, sensing their struggle, left their position upon the Vessel's shoulders and climbed alongside the Golem, their root-like tendrils slamming into the tree, creating their own purchase as they went.

Their pursuers grew closer, their searching shouts louder by the second, if it were not for the darkness of the night cloaking their escape, they would have undoubtedly already been found.

In the fear filled haze of their mind, the stupidity of their idea struck Wanderer like a fireball, they had willingly put themself in a situation where they had less ability to dodge anything thrown at them, and, at the pace they were climbing, they would surely be found before they could escape into the maze-like branches of the pine.

But they had committed and there was no turning back now, so the Golem redoubled their efforts, trying their hardest to push through the increasing pain.

The safety of the first of the collosal branches was nearly within reach, when the squad of warriors found their hiding place.

It was an event heralded by a cacophony of shouts and instructions and within moments the Magi and their guard had arrived as well, a great feeling of dread settling over the Golem at their arrival.

They were so close, the comforting boughs of the great tree within only a few steps of their current location, but their wounds were too debilitating, their body too weak.

The moment the Magi started up another spell of fire, they knew they were doomed.

There was no chance of surviving the spell, it was not the meagre fire bolts that they threw in the darkness of the night, this was a true fireball, the incinerating, destroying spell that caused the greater Golem’s doom.

The Golem was merely stunned by the attack, but Wanderer was different, they were soft and small, the fire bolts thrown by Magi would have had no effect on the hardened creature, yet even in grazing they charred Wanderer's clay flesh black.

Time seemed to slow as the spell neared its completion and a feeling of acceptance flowed over the Vessel, they said goodbye to their Spirit, who had been with them since the beginning and was still desperately searched for a way out of their doomed situation.

They said goodbye to Emio, while they had only been in their little group for a short time, they had already become a constant and endearing presence.

“Thank you, my friends”, they thought.

And as they felt the magic building to a crescendo, they took one final look around the beautiful world they had been placed in, they saw the infinite hills and valleys of the forest they had found themself in, the whirling and dancing magic of the spell that the Magi was weaving.

And the wooden tendril tied around their waist.

Wanderer laughed.

Not a true laugh of course, Wanderer had no mouth to do such a thing and it was not a laugh borne of happiness or mirth, it was a laugh that comes when one who expects themself to die suddenly finds there was never any danger, as a great relief comes over them.

“I am a fool”, was the thought the Vessel had as they were lifted like a bird through the needled branches, the fireball hitting little but bark below.

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Had not Emio demonstrated their incredible strength time and time again, why then could they not save them from their own perilous situation?

The verdestry carried them far, far into the dense branches, only slowing their descent when their attackers were completely out of sight, bringing them to a stop outside a massive hollow in the tree.

For a moment both Golem and verdestry fell still, and Spirit unusually quiet, all exhausted by the recent events.

In silence, Wanderer fixed their wounds, the burnt part of their arm having to be discarded, ruining their already deformed lower left arm even more.

After a time, a question passed through the Vessel's mind, “Why did Spirit dislike shield?”.

As they were sifting through the memories of their escape, they remembered the agitation that their Spirit faced when they layed their vision upon the bodyguard's shield, agitation mixed with grief, they realised.

And so, Wanderer did something they had never truly done before, they posed a question to their Spirit.

Feelings of mild shock and confusion prevailed through their bond, the guide unused to being directly addressed, but after a moment their reply came, an explanation in the feelings and emotions through which Spirit spoke.

There was a Spirit trapped inside the shield, different from themself, but kin nonetheless.

It was forced to provide the magic needed for the shield's enchantment and because of this, it had been reduced to a fraction of its former power and was slowly dwindling away every time the shields power was used.

Spirits gain magic from their concept, Wanderer parsed from the flurry of emotions that made up their guides message, and when they are removed from it they are unable to regain their power, as such, a starved Spirit will dwindle away until they are consumed by the spells they are forced to create.

Throughout the Spirits explanation, Wanderer felt a deep, want to retrieve the enchanted shield and set the trapped Spirit free, and for a moment Wanderer almost wanted to attempt to climb back down the tree and take the armament, yet the memories of their near death still stung fresh in their growing mind and they refrained from their instinctual reaction.

And so they sat deep in thought until a idea came to them, and in a act of consolation, they made a pact with their spirit, “I will set Spirits free, when I can”, and so, the Golem made a light promise to help their lifelong friend, and release their kin from their magical prisons.

Feeling the conversation finished , they turned their attention to their plant-like saviour, who was tucked into a corner of the large hollow.

Meandering toward them, Wanderer noticed their runic eye lazily focus on them, obviously unconcerned by their approach and too busy recovering their energy to worry about the Vessel's next actions.

The Golem scooped the herbal creature into their arms, an action met with a degree of mild uncertainty, then, as if by instinct, began to pet the small monster, their bottom two arms holding it and the top two caressing the weaving roots that made up its body.

The effect was instant, the slightly stiffened limbs of the Verdestry relaxed immediately, hanging limb in Wanderers arms, and a light but deep sound began to emanate from the creature, that of the shuffling of leaves and the groaning of trees, and Wanderer couldn't help but think that the little monster was in a state of pure bliss.

The two stayed like that for a matter of hours, passing the night away in each other's company, broken only by the rare happy comment from the Spirit.

Eventually, however, Wanderer and their Spirit both found themselves restless, deprived of their much-beloved exploration, and so, the trio set out from their hollow and slowly made their way along one of the many branches belonging to the massive conifer.

At their height, snow was common, it was not quite cold enough that snow would form on the branches themselves, but cold enough that the snow that fell from the branches above would cover the bough in many places and remain there for some time.

The snow made their path slippery in many places, requiring Wanderer to latch onto the surrounding pine needles for stability, which were often as long as the Vessel was tall.

After half an hour, Wanderer and the party had reached the edge of the massive bough, an effort much delayed by random gusts of wind that would shake the entire tree like a rattle, but as they reached the very tip of the branch, a great reward unfolded before them.

Lit by a violet sunrise, a view of not just the hills and valleys, but a great black desert and a massive mountain spewing deep red fire unfolded before them.