The party split off with three mariners from the original ten having returned to the camp to inform the captains of the Queen's safety. And Stein who retreated back into the Fenian archives.
Now, the group who lead the diplomatic effort was comprised of Miria, Rorrick, Agar, Vania, Kel, Gilbert, and Rorrick's first mate, Henrik.
The sun lingered above the clearing, and although the meeting with the felq had been rather ominous there didn't seem to exist any sort problem or issue that the forest folk, or Fenians, suffered from.
“I like this place. It's so peaceful and calm,” Rorrick said as they walked in the clearing and noticed the few forest folk who took in the summer sun for a warm afternoon nap in the grass.
“I wouldn't be so sure, Mr. Rorrick. Under the stillest waters sleeps the biggest titanfish,” Gilbert said with a wry glance at the cheerful Fenians.
Soon enough, the party arrived at a rather odd structure. On the right side of a tree stood a stage-like building. Raising itself from the ground was a massive tree stump, smaller than the Alq Fen, and with a small stairway carved onto it.
“What a stage!” Rorrick said to himself when he saw the naturally made platform.
Around the stump, a great number of chairs were arranged in a circle. Some of them were cut stumps, others were rocks with comfortable amounts of moss on them, and some were beautifully-carved wooden chairs with various ornaments on them.
A few forest folk quietly spectated a handful of Fenians playing odd string and woodwind instruments, while others discussed and talked among themselves in a passionate and melodious tone.
It was clear to the human party that, whatever this place was, it was the heart of daily forest folk life.
Kel instructed Vania to show the Humans to their seats, and as soon as these strange creatures entered their holy circle, everyone went silent and stared at the sea folk.
“Huh, hello?” Rorrick said, attempting humor but inspiring confusion.
“You want me to translate?” Vania asked the bard.
“Yes of course I want you to translate!”
As the rest of the party took their seats among the forest folk, Vania began to explain the situation to the audience. Suddenly, out the top of the stump stage, two adult female forest folk twins, both of them still without a bit of bark on their skin, emerged and stared at the party.
Both wore beautifully-woven dresses of flowers, leaves and organic fiber, with one wearing a pink lily on her hair and a respectively-colored cloak, and the other a purple lily and matching cloak.
At first, other than the cloaks and lilies, there didn't seem to be anything else to set them apart. But after a few seconds, the captains noticed the purple lily sister seemed to have heavy bags under her eyes and a near-constant yawning quirk.
“Now who might these strangers be, sister Lea?” the pink lily tree woman inquired to her counterpart with her hands on her hips.
“More strangers from the sea, no doubt, Mea.” the purple lily Fenian answered before she once again let out a gaping yawn.
“More strangers?” Miria asked once Vania had translated.
“Quiet! We make the questions now.”
“For we—” Lea yawned “—are the ones in charge.”
“In charge of what exactly?” Rorrick asked.
Below the parties, the sitting Fenians shot excited looks at the duo.
“Of the stage, of course!” The twins both began to pose, holding hands.
“We are Mea!”
“And Lea!”
“And we are, The Stringmancer Elders!”
“And we are, The Stringmancer Elders!”
The forest folk all began to throw small pieces of cotton into the air as they celebrated the introduction of their musical champions.
“Aren't you a bit too young to be elders?” Rorrick asked as he noticed the twins’ smooth features.
“It's merely a title, stranger.”
“To be fair,” Lea answered with another yawn, ”it was a pretty apt title a couple weeks ago.” She gave a devious sleepy stare at an annoyed looking, almost entirely bark-covered Fenian with an old drum.
“We won the duel, fair and square. Now we are the elder stringmancers!”
“Teachers of music and song.”
“And the second leaders of the Alq Fen!” The sisters said as they basked in the glory of their title.
“Teachers? Well, I'm a musician myself,” Rorrick said, as the rest of the humans wondered if this was really the best time for a duet.
“Rorrick, I don't think you should—” Miria was cut short as the twins spoke over her.
“Oh is that right?” Both of them began to snicker to themselves. “Well sister, I don't think this shrub understands who he's up against.”
“Heh, although he's very dreamy for a shrub. I wouldn't mind falling asleep with him,” Lea said with a wink to the bard.
The bard was at a loss for words and a bit embarrassed when he heard the translation.
The retainers surrounding Miria felt a strange temperature surge as the queen began to suffer from an odd feeling she hadn't experienced before.
“Well, what do you say, shrub? Up for a challenge?” Mea extended her hand toward Rorrick, inviting him for a duel.
Everyone looked to the bard with a bit of reprehension, and as he stood up, Rorrick asked with a sly look, “What's the bet?”
“If we win, you will become our loyal servant,” Mea dared.
“And you will do everything we want, any time we want, anywhere we want,” Lea added. Her cheeks turned a yellow shade, which Rorrick suspected was a blush.
“So what you say, shrub? What is your price?” Mea asked Rorrick as her sister lost her drowsiness at the prospect of having a foreign servant.
Rorrick pondered for a bit, and as he looked to the disapproving stares from Miria and Gilbert, he declared, “You are the masters of music from the forest folk, are you not? Well, if I win, I want you to teach and share with me your music and song!”
“Rorrick, no!” Miria said as her hair began to turn into a fiery red. Her shout stung the ears of the forest folk.
“The shrub asks for so little, with so much at stake,” Mea said to her sister.
“Maybe being a servant isn't a big deal to them. What an interesting people!” Lea said as she dreamed of the number of servants an especially talented musician would have in the human homelands.
“You see? This is why I didn't trust them Your Highness,” Gilbert said to Miria, who was giving the twins a malicious stare. “They still practice slavery; these people are barbarians.”
Miria ignored Gilbert, muttering to herself, “Who do they think they are? To make Rorrick their slave!”
“We accept your challenge, shrub! A traditional Fen stringmancer duel. Rules as usual.”
“Both challengers will give a single performance each, and whoever gets the most public praise will be declared the winner!”
“Are you ready, shrub?” Mea said as she looked to Rorrick with a bit of pity.
“Please, be my guest. You two first,” he dared.
The two sisters looked to one another, nodded, and began their performance.
The clearing became silent, and the sun itself seemed to dim in preparation for the performance.
Rorrick stood on the stage, patiently waiting to see what sort of instrument the twins would play. Then, to the surprise of the bard and the humans, the twins both stood with their backs to one another and prepared to sing. Lea and Mea held hands, aligned their feet and extended their free hands outwards as if praising the beauty around them. Then they began their song.
It was a sound no human ear had heard since the dawn of creation: a beautiful, alien harmony capable of rivaling the songs of the goddess of poetry.
In their voice, Rorrick could hear the orchestra of millennia of years of leaves rustling, the howling winds, and the calls of beasts and bugs. And in this great cacophony of natural noise and chaos, there was harmony and beauty.
It awoke something deep within the humans—something that they had repressed and forgotten long ago. With the song of nature, they reconnected with it and found the primordial light that the Gods had bestowed upon them so long ago.
In the grand scheme of the song, all their troubles, all their issues, seemed trivial.
For with the song of nature, they realized the trees and rocks did not care for their plight, ideals or philosophies. They had known greater, grander strife; they had lived through ages of both hellscapes and paradises to which human tales could never come close.
And so, finally, the humans realized what was transpiring before them. By the power of the song, the human party had been brought back to the times of creation. They saw the ages blink past them, and they witnessed the history of the forest folk.
They watched as the first tree emerged from a barren, ashen land. The first felq emerged from under the first tree into an alien jungle of giant fungi, ferns, and bugs.
The Fenian tribes that slowly emerged split apart from their rooted brothers that surrounded them and created the first songs and sounds of the children of the trees. But as the ages passed, they also noticed something strange: there were other races of forest folk.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
Besides the “original” Fens, the humans saw visions of spiky forest folk with thousands of needles protruding from them. They seemed more like cacti than normal trees.
The last type of fen they saw was a sickly, pale, and slow-moving race. Permanently covered in a diseased green lichen and rotten bark, this race seemed to spread disease and drain the lifeforce of wherever they went. Their roots reached deep into the earth and the streams, and they poisoned the waters around them so nothing besides them could grow.
To the surprise of the humans, they watched as the peaceful-looking Fenians and their cacti brothers entered into a centuries-long war with these acid drinkers.
The ending of the centuries-old war, only coming after a single young acid drinker Fen set fire to himself and the entire island where his race dwelled, permanently extinguishing their culture and existence from Aelea.
Centuries of peace and prosperity followed, witnessed by the trees too was the destruction of the moon. Although the Fens of yore panicked and wondered over its significance, the humans recognized it as the moment when the First Wizard Thalon expelled the gods from Vaelia.
Centuries more came to pass and the humans saw what seemed like an especially important and bittersweet moment in forest folk history.
They watched as a young forest folk dared to explore and begin settling all the islands of the archipelago. His adventure culminated with a small fleet of forest folk departing their home island chain to explore the world. Outside the reach and safety of the Ring of Storms, their fate, was forever unknown to those who stayed home.
The humans could feel the song beginning to close in, but as the last few notes floated through the clearing, they saw something shocking.
A strange floating city, on a giant base of wood that was propelled on the water, by three differently-shaped sails connected to three sandstone towers. The sails resembled giant woven tapestries more than proper seafaring sails. And this floating city docked on the westernmost isle of the archipelago. The humans had not arrived first; someone else was on the islands. Someone from an unknown western land.
Finally, the song ended as the humans saw themselves for a split second landing on the easternmost island with their ships. Their own travels and adventures comprised only a minuscule part of the still-unfolding tale of the Roaring Sea Isles.
The light returned to the clearing. As the humans began to recover from the otherworldly spectacle they had witnessed, the Fens erupted into cheer and celebration, throwing flower petals and bits of cotton to the stage in acclamation of their musical masters.
“That's . . . a lot to think about,” Miria said, dazed.”Rorrick! Show those house flowers what a real bard is made of!”
“I told ya these trees were dangerous!” Gilbert exclaimed as he looked with newfound fear at the smiling trees around him.
All eyes fell upon the bard as they wondered what he could possibly do to beat the twins.
To the surprise of everyone, the bard simply took out his lute from behind his back and with a blank, focused expression, began strumming.
It began as a slow ballad. The wind itself stopped as if to listen in curiosity. Then, to the surprise of the fens in the clearing, as he strummed his slow ballad, the bard sang.
Aelia was new and the dragons soared
Men searched for safety on the shores
The gods above, they did not care
When the Dragon Lord began to dare
Tribes were burned and cities razed
but from the ashes a hero was raised!
Empress Gwen Len Aelia!
Eternal Gwen Len Aelia!
Descended from God, to be a mortal and fight
Descended to help men in their plight
She united all in the Lenian Sea
She made every tribe bend the knee
The Dragon Lord saw the empire she made
and in his fortress, Tjarkonil was afraid
The Empire of Len pushed back the dragons!
To the frozen north, past Ar Fragons
The children of men danced and sang
for all was well when the bells rang
Empress Gwen Len Aelia!
Eternal Gwen Len Aelia!
Banished the dragons and united men!
Banished the beasts that haunted us then!
But her life would come to end
and to the heavens she did not ascend
for she chose to remain in Vaelia
to protect the human children of Aelia.
and in the great Imperial city of Len
There dwells her spirit, watching over men
Empress Gwen Len Aelia!
Eternal Gwen Len Aelia!
Come back to us, to save us again.
Come back to us, so you can reign.
Everyone listened attentively as the words faded and the bard kept strumming out his ballad to ages past. Finally he finished, and the entire clearing went silent.
For a few seconds, the humans feared they had lost one of their leaders but to their surprise, the crowd and even some passersby that had decided to stay erupted into celebration.
The audience tossed full flowers and cotton branches onto the stage, and a few Fenians even climbed onto the stage and raised Rorrick in the air, celebrating the creator of the strange arrangement and harmony they had never heard before.
“I—I don't understand. How could Rorrick win? I had never heard something as beautiful as the twins’ song,” Gilbert said in astonishment as the queen herself joined the cheer.
“Well the Fens also had never heard something as beautiful as Mr. Rorrick's song,” Vania said. “It was new; something we’ve never heard before. Just like Mr. Rorrick's song wasn't that special to you, the twins’ song wasn't that special to the Fens.”
“But what about the visions?” Gilbert asked with an incredulous stare.
Vania looked confused. “Visions? What visions?”
Gilbert raised an eyebrow at their guide, but before he could inquire further, she left her seat and began to translate again for the winning bard.
“Don't worry too much about it, Captain. Rorrick had a bit of magic of his own to dazzle the Fens,” Miria said, pleased that the bard had not lost his touch.
“Haha. I won! You need to keep your end of the deal now!” Rorrick said triumphantly as he was put back down again by his adoring fans.
Mea nodded back and answered with a smirk. “A duel is a duel. You were pretty good after all—for a shrub.”
“Pity. I was looking to have someone to cuddle with tonight,” Lea said as her hope for a prospective servant disappeared. In its stead, her drowsiness returned.
“We will teach you all we know. But we must warn you, its hard work and you can't learn everything in a day of course,” the pink lily sister said as many of the forest folk left the stage and began to return to their daily routines.
“It would be nice if you could teach us what you know too,” the purple lily said as she wondered what other mysteries and secrets the bard's songs held.
“Well of course! Can we start right now?” Rorrick asked eagerly.
“My, my. Such an early bloomer. Very well, we will start with the basics.”
As the human party sat back down and prepared to see what sort of teachings the forest folk had, a strange prickly figure approached the queen with Agar, who translated.
“Highness. An emissary from our cousins in the west wants to speak with you.”
“You can speak, Agar? Well, that's new.” The queen smiled.
“I was also there during classes. It's just, my wife tends to . . . talk a lot. So over time I just decided to keep shut since she always interrupts me,” Agar admitted. “In any case, the emissary, Your Highness?”
“Of course. Bring him forward.”
As the figure approached, Miria recognized him as the race they had seen in their vision of the cacti-like forest folk.
He wore a breastplate made of hollowed-out trunks of wood. Stranger still were his weapons. The cacti held a bag on his waist with various darts, a blowpipe of sorts on his back, and a sharp bone knife.
“Your Highness. I have heard of you from Hunt Master Kel, and the nature whisperers have told me of your arrival. Please, if you would be so kind as to walk with me,” the cacti said as he knelt, wincing as his knee touched the ground.
“Of course.” The queen rose and offered her hand to the cacti, who refused, walking ahead.
“Agar, I need you to come with me. Gilbert, stay here with Rorrick and the rest.”
“But Your Highness!”
“It’s an order, Captain.”
Gilbert sighed. “Aye aye, Your Majesty.”
“It won’t take long. Be well behaved,” the queen said, excusing herself.
“Treating me like a damn child,” the first captain grumbled once she was out of earshot.
“Your Highness, I have a request to ask of you.”
“What might that request be?” Miria asked as she and Agar joined the cacti.
“Well, I'm not sure how much you know about our islands. But you are not the first sea walkers to arrive here.”
“Is that so?” The queen feigned ignorance to learn more about the strange foreigners she and the rest of the expedition saw in their vision.
“I'm afraid so,” The cacti sounded annoyed. “They arrived one or two generations ago and forcefully settled in Vaen Island—my people's island.”
“A western isle I assume?”
“Yes. The biggest, westernmost island,” he replied, looking a little surprised. “I see you trees truly know the ways of the sea currents.”
“You could say water is in our blood,” Miria said with a proud smile.
“Well, these invaders are not sea trees! Er, forgive me. People. They came from the west on their floating city, but they keep boasting that they are true sand people, and that we know nothing of the burning sand,” the cacti exclaimed with a furious expression.
“Sand people?” Miria asked as the trio stopped walking.
“Yes. They say they lived among the sands for generations. When they arrived, they were not like you.” The cacti began recalling his memories. “I was only a young sapling then, but I remember clear as midday. Their great city dragged itself along the sand, pushing toward the sun. They destroyed every Spiked village they came across; they destroyed families. My own father was killed by their warriors when he and a handful of hunters tried to defend our tribe.” The cacti was visibly shaken. He clenched his fist and continued. “Every spiked tribe and house was scattered to the desert wind as those sun believers’ raids became more and more common.”
“Sun believers?” Miria thought to herself. She wanted to ask more about it, but for now, she let the western emissary continue his tale.
“It has been centuries since our races last knew war. But ever since the sun warriors arrived, my people have lived in caverns and tunnels below the sand. Always in very small numbers of gatherings, and we strike while hidden from the sun warriors whenever we can.” The cacti said as he gestured toward his own weapons. “I have tried for seasons now to convince the Felq to send his own people so that together we can defeat the sun warriors like we did together to another enemy so long ago. But . . . the Felq is afraid.”
“Afraid?” Miria asked.
“Yes. Once they arrived, and after they destroyed my people's home, the sun warriors tried to travel here, to the Alq Fen. But they could not enter the forest. They were repelled by the Fen hunters.”
“They even tried to burn down the forest to enter,” Agar added. “But we were quick to put the fires out, and they haven't come close to the Alq Fen or the other islands since.”
The cacti sighed in frustration. “Ever since then, the Felq has given an order for every Fen that was west of the Alq Fen to return here to the clearing or settle somewhere else in an eastern island. We were invited too, of course. But our home is in the sand. We can't let it fall to invaders like this.”
“I see. I presume you want our help to liberate your home?”
“Yes. The felq has sent a few Fens over time to help us with our ambushes, but it's not enough. The sun worshipers’ home is always moving and is too big and well-guarded for us to ambush or invade.”
“My mother was part of one of those ambushes sent by the Felq and she was captured years ago,” Agar revealed to the queen as he looked down with a mix of sadness and rage.
“I'm sorry, Agar. That's horrible.” Miria debated the situation for a while and finally declared, “I may need some time to think things over and discuss it with the rest of my captains. Will you leave any time soon, Mr. . . . Actually, what is your name?”
The cacti reacted with a bit of embarrassment. “I'm sorry, I was so eager to talk with you that I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Ceae, leader of the Burning Rock tribe and the permanent emissary of the Spiked Ones to the Fens of Alq Fen,” the cacti answered as he bowed and placed his fist above his chest in reverence.
“A pleasure to meet you, Ceae of the Burning Rock. My name is Miria Roseport, Queen of Haven-Harbor and leader of the Varzense people,” the queen announced in her usual royal greeting. “Do not worry. I see that you and your people have gone through much strife in these past ages. My own people also suffered from an invading army that we could not defeat by ourselves.
I must deliberate on what you have told me. I will inform my people, and the other leaders, but I assure you, your plight does not fall upon deaf ears. You have suffered many woes, and as the monarch, I will not let these horrible acts go unpunished, that I can assure you!” Miria proclaimed as her diplomatic training almost automatically kicked in after hearing the emissary’s words.
“Thank you, thank you, Your Highness. Please, save my people. If you need to speak with me at any time, you can find me close to the Alq Fen training ground,” Ceae answered and once again knelt before the queen.
“I will come for you if need be. Thank you for sharing your plight with me, Ceae,” Miria said in a comforting tone as she allowed the spiked messenger to rise up.
“Thank you for your patience, Your Highness,” the cacti replied as he begged his leave and finally Miria and Agar began walking back toward the stage-arena where Rorrick and the rest of the captains were
“Sorry Your Highness, but do you really think Captain Gilbert and the others will agree to help us drive the western invaders? I know I haven't been around that long with you, but he seems as stubborn as Kel,” Agar asked honestly.
“I doubt it. We left our home so we wouldn't need to waste lives fighting in a war. But I can't just let such evils go unpunished like this. Especially when we need allies. People need our help and I intend on providing it,” the queen answered in a decidedly confident tone.
“Well I hope your powers of speech are as strong as Mr. Rorrick's powers of music. Because I fear we will fight a war of words before we fight a war of swords.”