Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Four - Tree Time

I landed with a thump atop a big old rock, my knees bending with the impact and my ears flopping down so fast they tapped my shoulders.

Standing up slowly so as to not spook anyone, I took a moment to look all around me. The last thing I wanted was to be ambushed while my friends were still above. Actually, I wouldn’t want to be ambushed even with my friends around.

Ambushes were no fun.

The nearby stream gurgled and did happy little stream things, and the woods--despite seeming rather dark and foreboding from above--were actually real quaint when on ground level, with big trees as far as the eye could see and the occasional bush and scampering squirrel. It was a bit cool in the shadow of the Beaver but not so much that it was uncomfortable.

The only truly worrisome thing was the trees looking at me from within the forest. I could make out maybe six or seven dryads, some half hidden behind trees or boulders, others disguised by bushes.

If some of them weren’t moving a little, there was no way I would have noticed them at all. They certainly had an advantage when it came to hiding in a forest.

I wondered if this world had a variation on ‘missing the forest for the trees’ and whether it took into account dryads being a thing.

The rope ladder smacked the ground a couple of meters away, dragging my attention up to the Beaver where a couple of the lumberjacks looked like they were ready to come down.

Not to be outdone, Amaryllis climbed onto the rails, stuck her arms out next to her, and stepped off. She glided down nice and gently for a bit, then landed on top a pile of stones that shifted and clattered beneath her.

“Anything interesting around?” she asked as she brushed her feathers straight.

“Not really,” I said. “Lots of dryads in the woods, but none have stepped up yet. Is everyone coming down?”

“Not everyone, no. We’re supposed to meet with some dryad leader first, then head over to the important trees. A huge waste of time, if you ask me. They’re trees, it’s not like their opinion matters.”

I shook my head. “I don’t agree,” I said. “They might be trees, but they’re still people. This is their home. I'm actually kinda glad that they can defend it. It means that we need to take them as seriously as they deserve.”

“Well, whatever,” Amaryllis said. “That five percent discount on goods, even if just applied to wood and lumber, will be worth any number of talking trees.”

I rolled my eyes, making sure that Amaryllis could see it, because what was the point of rolling your eyes otherwise? “We should go say hi to the nice dryads before the lumberjacks and company guys get down here. I have the impression that they’re not the best of friends.”

“You think?” Amaryllis asked.

I made sure to bump shoulders with her as I passed by. “Come on, let’s go talk to some nice trees,” I said.

We approached the stream, across from which I could see the largest number of dryads gathered behind a small pile of rocks and a few tightly knit trees. “How do we call them over?” Amaryllis asked.

“We could go to them?”

My harpy friend hummed. “I don’t know. It’d feel safer to meet halfway.”

That was fair. And if they didn’t want to, then I’d go and meet them myself. Sometimes, to make new friends, you just had to put yourself out there a little. “Hello dryads!” I called out.

Amaryllis’ head snapped around to stare at me. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You sounded like someone just hit you in the chest,” she said.

I patted my chest, still covered in intact armour, then looked back up to her. “No? I’m fine. I was just calling out to the dryads.”

“That was their language then?” she asked.

“How did it sound like?” I wondered.

“Like someone wheezing. I’ve heard old birds who smoked pipes their whole lives speak more clearly,” she said.

Shrugging, I turned back to the woods. “It doesn’t seem to have worked,” I said. Cupping my hands over my mouth, I tried again. “Hey there! My name is Broccoli, and I’m a friend! We want to speak with you, please!”

The trees rustled, and some of the dryads that may have thought they were hidden tucked themselves behind some trees and bushes in a hurry. The gesture was somehow very innocent and child-like. Were they young dryads? They were certainly smaller than Oak had been. Very cute! I approved wholeheartedly of little tree people. The only problem was that with bark-like faces it would be hard to pinch their cheeks.

Movement from nearby had me turning just in time to see a bush split apart and a pair of large dryads move out from hiding. They had been surprisingly close the entire time.

One was shorter than the other, with a curvier body and a distinctly willowy look. The dryad had long, braided branches atop its head that fell down in a long cascade along its back. I was tempted to call it a ‘her.’ She was definitely very feminine, with a few flowers in her ‘hair’ and an outfit of sorts made of woven leaves.

The other, larger dryad was...

“Oak!”

Amaryllis eyed Oak, then me. “This is that dryad you know?” she asked.

I nodded as Oak stepped up and placed the butt of his spear onto the ground next to him. He was a bit bigger than I remembered, with a few more scars along his tough bark-y skin. He was wearing a sort of toga made of woven leaves, with bits of wood placed along it. Armour of sorts?

“Sister... Broccoli?” Oak said.

“Hey!” I cheered before bouncing across the stream. A few of the dryads flinched at the motion, and I saw bows and spears rise, but no one did anything rash as I crashed into Oak and gave him a big hug. “Oak!”

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Oak didn’t so much as step back from the force of my hug. “Sister Broccoli,” he said before he started to pat me on the head. “Ears?”

“Yup!” I said. “I grew ears since last we met. Do you think they’re cute?”

Oak looked at them very carefully, and seemed to ponder his words. “Growing is... good.”

I felt my cheeks warming up, and I stepped back from Oak. “Thanks! I kinda like them.” I clapped my hands. “Oh, you need to meet my friends. And I need to hear everything that happened to you. And who’s this willow dryad? Is she a girl-dryad... is she your girlfriend?”

Oak let out a long sigh, but it sounded like a happy sigh. “Still talk fast,” he said.

I couldn’t help but giggle. “Sorry! I just have lots to say.”

“Hello, Sister Broccoli,” the dryad next to Oak said. She had a big smile on, and a bunch of flower bulbs in her outfit started to open up to reveal all sorts of pretty flowers. “I’m Wisp.”

“Hi Wisp!” I said before opening my arms wide in the optimal hugging position. “Can I hug you too?”

“Yes!” Wisp said.

I wanted to be careful not to squish her flowers, but Wisp didn’t seem to care at all and gave me a tight squeeze. “Whoa, you’re strong!” I said as I let go of her.

Wisp let out a breezy laugh. “Yes.”

“So, are you a boy dryad or a girl dryad? You’re very pretty,” I said.

Wisp seemed to think on it for a moment. “I’m Willow,” The dryad said. “Girl, but mostly tree.”

“That’s so cool!” I said. “Are you the ones that we’re supposed to meet here today?” I asked.

Oak seemed to hesitate before nodding. “Meeting with the Destroyer,” he said. “Peace instead of war. And no more cutting of brethren.”

That sobered the mood up a little. A glance over my shoulder revealed that not everyone was down yet. Awen had joined Amaryllis on the shore though, and they both looked nervous in their own way. “Do you want to meet my friends?” I asked. “We’re here to help make things better.”

“Sister Broccoli will help?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

“You already helped much. Weapons to fight the tree-cutters.” He raised his spear.

It took me a moment to add things together in my head and realize that somewhere along the way, I may have maybe made a little mistake. “L-let’s talk about that in a bit,” I said.

“New weapons?” Oak asked.

“Ah-haha, not quite,” I said. “Did your littler friends want to come out too?”

Oak shook his head. “They stay here. For protection. Wisp can come.” He gestured to the willow dryad.

“Alright.” I gestured to Amaryllis and Awen. “Come on, I’ll show you to my best friends, and maybe later we can check out the Beaver together?”

“Beaver?” Oak repeated.

“That’s my ship!”

He looked up to the ship, a frown growing across his brow. “So much wood. So many brothers. But... to fly.”

“Flying is pretty cool,” I said. “Maybe Amaryllis can show you how to make a glider or something. It wouldn’t be flying-flying, but it would be pretty close. And I bet there are magics that could help.”

The thought of flying trees was too amusing not to imagine.

Oak nodded very seriously. “I will learn,” he said. Then, with a sweeping gesture, roots speared out of the ground beneath us and arched over the stream before planting themselves in the cracks and crevices in the rocks opposite. Soon enough, there was a nice bridge spanning the running water.

“Neat!” I said as I skipped over the bridge to my waiting friends. “Guys! It turns out I know this dryad.”

Amaryllis seemed completely unphased, which was somehow a little disappointing. “Of course you do. Will you be adding some trees to the crew next?”

“I was just thinking that!” I said.

She whapped my head with a wing. “You idiot, I was being facetious. We’re not going to have an airship crewed by trees of all things.”

“But it would be so cool,” I said.

“Um.” Awen said. “It would be pretty, ah, neat?”

Amaryllis tossed her wings up and stepped past me to greet Oak and Wisp. “Hello,” she said.

I turned to find Oak looking at Amaryllis with his brows furrowed. “You... hit Sister Broccoli,” he said.

Amaryllis nodded. “She was being an idiot.”

He seemed to consider this, then nodded as if it made perfect sense.

“Hey!” I protested. Huffing, I jumped over to the two and stationed myself next to them. “I didn’t know you could talk, uh, human-ish, Oak.”

The dryad nodded. “Have learned. For... communicating.”

“I’m impressed,” I said while giving him a thumbs up. “So, this is Amaryllis, my best friend. And this over here.” I reached out and pulled Awen closer. She came, then gave the two dryads a shy little wave. “Is my best friend Awen.”

“This one flies?” he asked while gesturing to Amaryllis.

Wisp stepped up to her, and very carefully reached out a branching hand to touch her wings. “Nice,” Wisp said.

“She can glide a bit. Like a chicken.”

Amaryllis poked my side, right under where my breastplate ended. “I understood that,” she said. “You’re still speaking common.”

“Oof,” I said. “Don’t worry, I’d never insult you without you being able to understand.”

She poked me again.

Oak’s wooden face carefully twisted into a small smile. “Sister Broccoli still makes friends,” he said.

Grinning back, I nodded. “Yup! I’m glad to see that you’re well, Oak. I was a bit worried for a bit when I heard that there was trouble with dryads around here.”

“Lots of trouble,” Wisp agreed. “Oak caused much of it.”

“Oh?” I asked. “Well, that sounds like there’s a story behind it. Do you think you can tell us what’s going on? Before we need to meet with the others? If we’re going to help, it’d be nice if we were all on the same page.”

***