The scream was one of rage and sorrow, and as you skid to a stop in the entrance to the cavern you can see why. Mercy finished the tree.

It's dead.

Dry, white, barkless branches claw at the air, suspended above a wide, stunted, rounded trunk. The canopy stretches across the entire space, criss crossing and entangling with itself. Dry, black leaves are drifting in the air like ash as Mercy expends her rage, pounding on the tree. Each blow sends a shudder through the wood and causes the last few leaves still clinging on to give up. As they fall, so does the dryad; sinking to her knees and placing her head in her hands, she lets out another muffled yell.

You gently shoo the others away and enter alone. Mercy doesn't respond until you sit next to her.

“I really thought it would work.”

Her voice is hoarse as she whispers, croaks.

You don't know what to say, so you remain quiet.

“Today has been... a day, Red.”

“Yeah.” you reply.

You both sit in silence for a little while longer.

“Got any more bright ideas?”

You shake your head. “Not yet.”

She snorts. “'Not yet'. Well best think quick. You only have a few dozen hours left to do something that's been impossible for years.”

You nudge her with a wing. “Even if I fail the-” you pause, an uncomfortable feeling in your gut. You don't want to fail your first ever quest. It feels important. More important than it should do. Like you need this, this victory. You push past the feeling. “Even if I fail the quest Mercy, I'm still going to get you that tree.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

She lets out a shaky breath. “I hope you're right Red, I really do. But what if there's a reason it's by the full moon? Maybe it has to be done when...” she waves a hand vaguely at the ceiling “When the stars align or something that only happens every hundred years? I'd rather not have the false hope. I'd...”

She trails off and for a moment you think she's done.

“I wish you'd never told me Red. No offence. But you offered me something I've wanted for a very long time. That I'd given up on as a child's dream. You really... You really made me believe. You do that. Inspire people that nothing's impossible.”

She lets out a bitter laugh and the tree shudders, almost in response. One by one the thinnest branches split from the thicker, raining around you with a patter.

“Tell them to follow their dreams. Tell that little kobold that if she works hard she'll be respected. That her tribe will forgive her being born a runt. Tell the goblin that she has a chance to rebuild her tribe here, safe. Tell Amanda that she has a chance to live a normal life, that she can grow, that she can recover from being cast out by a Go-” she cuts herself off, violently, as larger and larger chunks of wood start to slam into the ground around you.

Then she speaks again, her voice rising over the cracking and splintering of wood as she spits out words as if they hurt her.

“And you fucked me. And didn't die. You reached into my soul and told the demon that she'd found the answer to the hunger. To the guilt. Then, just when I learn that you're taken, that you'd never be mine, not all of you, you reach down and offer me a hand in friendship and offer the exact same thing to my other half. That you could give me a home. That I could be normal. And you do it all in a way like you don't know what you're offering us! Like you're just casually offering to break society in half, to split generations of magical theory in two just because you feel like it!”

She cuts herself off again, turning blind eyes towards the trunk. You struggle to hear her murmur over the noise of the tree falling apart around you.

“It's intoxicating.”

You struggle for words. Despite the wooded rain that's fallen all around you, a small space is clear, centred on the two of you as debris falls and shatters all around.

Finally, all that is left is the trunk, a crown of broken boughs stretching up from it.

It's Mercy who breaks the silence.

Her voice is soft, melancholy. “Make me a promise Red?”

You nod.

“Never promise me anything again.”