“What is a silverthread?” Glade barked, hauling Kedryn back from the glowing sapling. For all he knew, it was a carnivorous plant that lured unsuspecting travelers to their death.
Riya stood dumbstruck, ignoring Glade’s question as she stared at the sapling in disbelief.
Seeing that he wasn’t going to get anything from her, he chose to ask Bragden.
“What’s a silverthread?” he projected.
“It’s another reason for us to leave this adjudicator cursed place!” Bragden snarled in Glade’s mind. “But yer two elf friends are probably seein this as some sort o’ miracle handed to them from the Overseer himself.”
“Not helping,” Glade snarled right back. “Kedryn is in a trance and is trying to make his way toward the sapling. Is the tree dangerous?”
“Aye, it be dangerous!” Glade imagined the surly dwarf stomping around the clearing and pulling his beard as he answered. “If’n any other elf besides one o’ the treeless or our bloody own royal pyro knew it was here we’d all be gutted afore the sun set!”
“You’ve pretty much painted that picture ever since we found Storms’ Rest. Either get new material or skip to the part where you finally tell me something worth listening to,” Glade said.
“Sir,” Kedryn interrupted his thoughts, “I’m supposed to go to the tree… It needs me…”
That sentence alone drove home that Kedryn was most definitely not acting of his own volition, which in his mind classified the tree as a threat.
“I’m going to fry the tree!” Glade snarled back to Bragden. “It’s got some sort of hold on Kedryn!”
Just as he was about to reach out to Ember to cast his fire spell, Bragden shouted in his mind.
“STOP! IF YOU DESTROY IT, YOU’LL DAMN US ALL!”
“THEN TELL ME WHAT IN THE HELL IS HAPPENING TO MY FRIEND!” Glade cried.
“I…” Bragden took a mental breath, which threw Glade for a loop as he could actually hear the dwarf think about taking a breath. “Nobody outside o’ the royal elves and their slagging Arborists know the truth ‘bout the silverthread trees. All we know are legends. The main theme though is that the first elf bonded the father o’ all trees, also known as the silverthread. This gave the elven races long life, magic, and all their slagging racial perks. Every elf knows that a silverthread is beyond sacred. If’n ye were to destroy one, and I don’t think anyone beyond an Adjudicator can do that, every bloody elf throughout the known planes would stop at nothing until you, your kin, and your kin’s kin along with all their known friends and relatives were wiped from the face o’ Viel. Even the treeless would join in that cause!”
Glade looked over the charred remains of what had to be a burned down silverthread tree. If what Bragden said was true, he wondered who, or what, had successfully destroyed this tree.
He turned to Riya. The elf was now kneeling with her arms crossed, whispering something under her breath as she continued to stare at the sapling. He couldn’t tell her emotional state because of the shadow armor, but he could well imagine her being overwhelmed if even a tenth of what Bragden explained was true.
“Sir,” Kedryn said, a little more insistently than before. “You need to let me go. I need to…”
“Corporal!” Glade interrupted, forcing Kedryn to look away from the tree and into his eyes. “You are not to go anywhere near that sapling, am I clear!?”
Kedryn stared at Glade uncomprehendingly for a moment, before slowly nodding.
“That’s a start,” he grumbled, but didn’t let go of Kedryn’s collar. “Tell me, what is happening to you? Why do you need to go to the tree?”
This entire situation was well beyond what he was ready to deal with at the moment. Killing a massive slime so that a magical crystal could continue to power their mystical long-lost kingdom was one thing, but a talking tree that granted long life and was on par with an actual deity while it took over the mind of your friend? That was just a little too much weirdness for him to handle in one day.
Kedryn looked at Glade for a long moment before looking longingly at the sapling.
“Because… its where I belong…,” Kedryn replied, his brow furrowing. “But… I don’t know why I’m supposed to… supposed to…”
There was another long moment where Glade watched Kedryn go through some sort of internal struggle.
“Hello?” Bragden called. “Is this telepathy thing still workin? Why isn’t anyone answerin?”
“I’m still here,” Gent replied, somehow projecting a smirk. “Ye can still chat with me if’n ye like.”
Glade felt more than heard Bragden slug Gent.
“That’s fer bein a slagging moron,” Bragden grumbled. Gent just laughed.
“I’m here,” Glade responded. “Kedryn is working through the mental interference with the tree. I’m going to disconnect with you two and reestablish a connection with Kedryn. Hopefully, that will interfere with whatever is happening to him.”
“Good call,” Bragden sent back.
Glade severed his connection with the dwarves and immediately activated his telepathic skill. The barren mindscape once again felt completely out of place. Ignoring the quiet, Glade connected to Kedryn and Bragden, hoping that the old dwarf might be able to help.
The moment he did, Glade felt some sort of influence invading Kedryn’s mind and immediately went on the offensive.
You have attacked your bonded, Bei’Kedryn Serevlir, of House Serevlir with a weak psychic attack and inflicted 18 points of metaphysical damage. Bei’Kedryn Serevlir is disoriented for the next 180 seconds (10 seconds for every point of metaphysical damage).
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Kedryn’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he went limp in Glade’s arms.
“That slagging hurt!” Bragden cried.
“Are you afraid of a little scream?” Glade chided him as he dragged his lighter than expected friend away from the tree. “Just wait until Krazzik and the others hear how you got weak in the knees because…”
“Ye made yer point,” Bragden growled. “But next time ye should warn an aging dwarf afore ye do something like that! I’m not as young as I used to be.”
Glade chuckled, then laid Kedryn amongst some dead bushes.
“Let me know when he wakes up,” Glade sent to Bragden, who immediately returned a scoff back through their link.
“And exactly how am I supposed to do that? I can’t slagging see the boy, now can I?”
Glade rolled his eyes. Why couldn’t anything ever be easy around here.
“Riya,” he called, but the elf didn’t answer him.
Knowing the debuff timer for Kedryn was counting down, Glade rushed over to Riya and shook her shoulder.
Grabbing the shadow armor felt… odd. Like she was only half there.
“Riya,” he said more loudly. “We need to leave. I don’t know what this thing is, but it’s got some hold over Kedryn. Its best if we retreat to a safe distance…”
“We are perfectly safe, Captain Glade,” Riya replied, though she was still kneeling and facing the sapling.
“Be that as it may, I’m not certain we should stay,” Glade said, a hint of steel edging into his voice. “The influence the sapling has over Kedryn…”
“Is natural,” Riya said, snapping an intense gaze at Glade. At least he thought it was an intense gaze. It was hard to tell with her face nothing but smoky shadow. “Silverthreads are the personification of light and life. They are more than holy to us elves and deserve not only our utmost respect but our trust as well.”
Glade looked at Riya for a long, drawn-out moment as his mind raced to formulate the best way he could describe his fears.
“And are you certain that Kedryn wouldn’t be harmed by a sapling that was growing from the remains of an older silverthread tree? From what Bragden explained, these trees are supposed to be immortal and indestructible. Yet here is one that has died, with a sapling growing from its ashes.”
It was difficult to detect, but Glade was certain he saw a hint of worry come across in her body language.
“I…,” Riya paused, stealing another glance toward the sapling growing out of the remains of the dead tree.
After another painful moment of silence, Riya looked away, her voice laced with uncertainty.
“I don’t know.” she whispered.
“And that is the reason I’m not comfortable with Kedryn getting near the tree,” Glade replied, gently.
“Shouldn’t that be my choice?” Kedryn all but groaned.
“The pyro’s awake!” Bragden called.
Glade rolled his eyes at the unnecessary comment and centered his attention on Kedryn.
“It’s your decision to make so long as you can make that choice without being influenced,” Glade said aloud, turning around to face the Corporal.
“I can assure you that I am making my own choice,” Kedryn breathed, sitting up slowly as he rubbed his head. “And could you please not psychic zap me again? That hurt!”
“You really think you aren’t being influenced?” Glade asked incredulously. “Then by all means, tell me where your home is.”
The last he said with a stern glare.
Kedryn looked past him and to the sapling, a knowing smile curving the corners of his lips.
“That would a no,” Glade sighed, folding his arms. “Until we are certain there is no influence from the tree your word cannot be trusted. Until then, why don’t you make use of the time and start doing push-ups.”
“You can’t be serious!?” Kedryn balked.
“Would you rather I use my psychic attack on you every other minute instead?” Glade said with an arched eyebrow.
“Getting into the front leaning rest now, sir,” Kedryn sighed before rolling over and doing push-ups.
“Ha! That sounds like a party! Wish I was there to see the royal doing push-ups!” Bragden laughed inside their minds.
“Shut up,” Kedryn grumbled.
“Wait, you can listen to our conversation?” Glade asked, surprise evident in his mental voice. “I thought you couldn’t hear us before?”
“Ha! I done figured it out! Why? Can’t you do it?”
Glade paused, stunned at the revelation.
“I’ve never tried,” he said with a mental shrug.
“Ha! Glad I could help ye figure out yer own power! I only charge a few pure shards per lesson. I’ll deduct it from yer share o’ the loot,” Bragden laughed, clearly joking.
“Oh, I ain’t jokin boyo,” Bragden laughed all the louder.
Ignoring the insufferable dwarf, Glade turned back to Riya who was looking intently at the tree.
“I can’t fault your logic,” Riya finally sighed. “I’ve never read anything of substance when it comes to the symbiotic relationship between royals and their silverthread trees. But this circumstance does sound… odd.”
“Glad we have come to an agreement,” Glade said with a nod. “Let’s pack up our things and go.”
“Wait!” Riya said, her eyes widening in panic as she grabbed his arm. “There are too many rare herbs here. I can’t just walk away…”
“Yes, we can,” Glade said. “They will still be here if we come back. I don’t know about you, but I can’t think straight while worrying that boy wonder over there is going to go into a trance at any moment and start touching things he shouldn’t. Besides, how much time do you have left on the shadow armor?”
Riya’s shoulders sagged in defeat.
“You are, of course, correct,” she sighed. “I may not have time to collect the natural treasures, but could you grant me one request?”
“Depends on the request,” Glade frowned. They really did need to go. Not only was the day slipping away, but Riya’s mana had to be on its last legs. They still had over an hour’s hike to get back to the hall. He wasn’t comfortable taking these unnecessary risks.
“It is not for you to grant,” Riya replied gently, looking over to Kedryn.
Sensing someone was talking to him, Kedryn looked up from his impromptu work out.
“Did you… need me… for something?” he gasped.
“Yes,” Riya said, taking in a breath. “I would like to formally request that I be allowed to bury the shadow heir’s remains, along with his companions, within the influence of this fledgling silverthread.”
“Not going to happen,” Glade said at the same time Kedryn replied with, “Of course.”
They both looked at each other, Glade’s face going dark while Kedryn got to his feet and made a placating gesture.
“Before you say anything,” Kedryn began. “I understand your concerns and will abide by your decision to not connect with the sapling.” The Corporal paused long enough to cast a longing glance at the silvery tree before returning his gaze to Glade. “I can feel the influence of the tree. It is pure and perfect. If you could feel what I’m feeling, then you would understand…”
“Vlad used that line on me once before he poisoned me with homemade pain killers,” Glade growled. “I learn my lessons the first time around.”
“I understand,” Kedryn said quickly. Glade could sense an undercurrent of worry there, but he didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, the sapling could rot and die so long as Kedryn remained safe. “But the burial is something that is sacred. Being buried underneath a silverthread, regardless if it is dead, newly sprouted, or long lived would be a great honor. It might just be the tipping point we need to talk with the shadow elves.”
“Just how do you know that?” Glade asked.
“Because, he asked me,” Riya said.
“And me!” Bragden called. “Well, he sort o’ asked me. The real question was what types o’ trees we should look for to bury them dead shadow elves. I may have mentioned the silverthread in that explanation as an example, but now that I’m thinkin about it, I can’t say for sure. But either way, the pyro be right in his assessment.”
The first thought that struck him was that he had entirely forgotten about the shadow elves and the need to bury them somewhere sacred. His second thought was one of admiration that Kedryn had been trying to learn what he needed so they could complete that part of the quest.
The last thought that crossed Glade’s mind was that he really didn’t want to do this. Then again, everyone seemed to be on board. Knowing he was likely going to regret it, Glade gave in.
“Five minutes,” he sighed.