“What was that?” Maria exclaimed, finally letting out her breath.
“Too close,” Wimbleton replied, standing up and gazing off in the direction the army had gone. “I checked with a compatriot of mine while I was away in Korak,. They’re correct, the ambassador is southward, but I don’t believe him to be dwelling in Ruvalth. There’s nothing there for him, which has me wondering if they know something we don’t. Unlikely, but possible. In any case, that’ll be our next goal. And as for you,” Wimbleton turned to Trenton, leaning down close to his ear, speaking quiet words bespoke for him, all pretenses dropping from his expression. “Your body is shattering, and I’m without the means to stabilize it. If you die again, if you lose yourself, you won’t come back next time. Keep that in mind,” Wimbleton stood.
“Care to share?” Garrote asked as Wimbleton rose once again.
“That’s his choice, not mine. The doctor can’t break patient confidentiality without consent, afterall,” Wimbleton smirked, the faux joy returning to his face.
“I question where you got your medical license,” Karfice said, cradling Maria’s still quivering body in his arms.
“Come on, we don’t have time to waste,” Kiva said, bending down to gently scoop up Trenton’s limp form, which sent waves of agony crawling all about his skin. “Up you go, and no dying on me,” she said, giving Trenton a quick peck on the cheek as her magic seeped into his body, alleviating the pain and slowly mending back together the tangled mess of his innards.
Little by little, albeit somewhat hesitantly, they departed from the branch of the tree, Kiva leading the charge. She knew the forest better than any other, and with the ability to grow and twist the natural environment to her liking, it was easy to make it out of the frost pit, the first signs of snow in some time dribbling from the skies above.
They made quite good pace across the forest, continuing as they had been the last couple weeks mostly free of conflict, laughing and joking in an attempt to keep spirits high despite the circumstances. It didn’t always work, and some days were quieter than others, but Wimbleton and Millie did a good job keeping people on top of their game. Millie was simple to read, her mind very singular, but Wimbleton was completely the opposite. It was impossible to gauge what was going on in his head, no matter how long or hard Trenton ruminated on it.
His emotion could switch so suddenly, his movements were too purposeful, his smile too endearing. Everything he did always rubbed Trenton the wrong way, but besides his intuition, nothing came of it. Maybe he was imagining things. Wimbleton had been remarkably helpful up to this point, and his words seemed honest. It was probably best for everyone’s sake to just leave it lying. No one needed more conflict, especially among friends, at a time like this. Although, Garrote might not be so graceful. When he thought no one was looking, his eyes would flicker towards Wimbleton, brow furrow just the slightest bit, heart rate–something Trenton could tell through the earth–pick up almost indeterminably. Well, if it ever became a problem, Trenton could sort it out then. No need to manifest any problems that don’t exist yet.
Within the week, they made it to the mother tree, its gargantuan form practically unimaginable to the unfamiliar earthlings. Its trunk extended for miles in each direction, curving ever so slightly on the edges if only one could see it. Even among the forest of giant trees, it stood out far among the rest, easily breaching the puffy clouds above, disappearing beyond what they could see.
So the rumors went, a race of bird people known as the korven lived up there, but entry was strictly forbidden and no man would dare attempt to break into such a sacred place. But as they approached closer, Trenton couldn’t help but wonder if the rumors were even true at all.
Supposedly the mother tree was a beacon of fertility and growth, enhancing all that dwelled around it, but sustaining an entire population so high up into the air seemed ridiculous. If the tree was as tall as Mount Thalian, something that could very well be true, then living atop it would be simply impossible. That far up, the air wouldn’t coalesce enough to form air bubbles, and temperatures would be too cold even for the most durable frost giants.
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“Is that where your tribe lives?” Leo asked, looking up at the great beast. They were a little ways out, still, but it was easy to make out amidst the rest of the forest.
Kiva nodded, “On one of the lower branches. We’re not quite as high as the korven, but it’s still a ways off the ground to deter intruders. It’s a bit tricky to get up, so I’ll go scout ahead. Just wait at the base of the tree for me.”
“Are you sure, lass? it’s dangero-” Raligoth called out after her, but she was already gone. “I swear, you lot are practically banging at Aadrieith’s door daily begging to be let in.”
“I’ll keep eyes on her. I highly doubt she can escape my range,” Wimbleton said, taking her position and leading them towards the base of the tree at a slightly elevated pace.
“How big is your range, anyway? Walibeld said strength is based on how much presence they have, but it’s hard to gauge just by feel,” Leo asked.
“It’s intuition, mostly, but it helps if you look in their core. Presence, magic, and aspect all originate from the core, so it’s the place to look if you want information. As for me, I can extend my presence across the continent if I wanted, but it wouldn’t be radial. I’d have to extend it in a single direction to get it that far. Generally I have about 2 or 3 miles worth of presence extended in every direction at all times. Any less and someone moving quick enough could attack before I notice them. The rest I just keep in my body for personal use,” Wimbleton explained.
“So you just…feel everything? How do you live like that? That sounds overwhelming,” Maria said, slapping the side of Karfice’s head again after he started dozing off. “This one can hardly even handle what his normal senses give him.”
“That's not very fair. I was thinking about the tree, and then I…I…” Karfice’s eye faded.
“Hey, pay attention! You can’t just zone out every time you don’t want to deal with a conversation. HEY!” Maria shouted, shaking him by the shoulders like an inexperienced parent.
“I’m really uncertain if those two hate each other or not,” Raligoth said.
“Don’t worry, it’s even harder to tell with your eyes. Consider yourself lucky,” Garrote said.
“Noted.”
Trenton turned back to Wimbleton, doing his best to focus on the topic at hand rather than get caught up in the multiple different conversations happening all around him, “So what exactly makes this mother tree so special? I thought trees were supposed to sap from surrounding plants, not give.”
Wimbleton shrugged, breaking past the last couple trees in their way and into a small clearing surrounding the mother tree, “It’s been around for ages. No one really remembers its inception anymore, so it’s impossible to say. The korven are quite good at keeping people away, so no studies can be conducted on the plant itself.”
“Speaking of the korven, do they really live at the top of the tree? It’s a little hard to believe.”
“That’s a good question. Let me check,” Wimbleton closed his eyes, presence bursting from his body upwards towards the top of the tree.
Up close it was even harder to fathom, like a sheer wall of tree flesh, but it also had a certain allure about it, almost like a gentle hum that permeated the air, vibrating every so slightly deep within Trenton’s soul. He took a step forward, the hum growing, inviting him closer. It was calling to him, like…the name of an old friend, long forgotten. He stepped closer. It was undeniable now, the allure of the tree unbreakable.
But just as Trenton reached out to touch the tree, unnoticed by his peers, a sound broke his concentration, dragging him back to the world at hand. It sounded like a scream, not terror per say, but…frustration, and it was getting closer worryingly fast. Trenton shook his head, stepping back from the tree in an attempt to locate the source of the noise, hammer already in hand. But his attempts would be in vain as the source graciously made itself known long before Trenton could come to his senses.
From above, a boy slammed into the ground, his body finding root in a crater much the shape of him. He cursed to himself as he stood, broken and battered body barely even capable of lifting himself to his feet. Were it not for the aid of the winds, which stirred about him with a wild fervor, he likely wouldn't be able to move at all.
The boy had a rather stout frame, wavy brown hair sitting pleasantly atop his elongated face. He looked something akin to a horse, as if someone had taken his head at birth and squashed on either side like he was made of dough. He cursed as he moved, brushing bits of dirt and bark from himself as he staggered back towards the tree, eyes never once glancing towards them.
“Damned birds…I know what you are…can not hide…from me,” he spat, curdled chunks of blood splattering against the edge of the tree as he began to climb once more.