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Sidestory 90.3: The Pragmatic Warlock

Sidestory 90.3: The Pragmatic Warlock

“Nuhesha, may your spirits find peace.” Facing the front of the tree, Dezzro dragged his hand down the bark until he was on his knees with his palm in the dirt.

“Hey, get to work Dezz! I’m sick of you doing this every time. You may be strong, but you fell no more lumber than the others. If your slacking means we cut too close to the quota, you can bet your ass I’ll send you to the woods where you can sympathise with the trees all you want.” The foreman glowered before returning to ordering the workers about.

To the left and right, metal teeth ground away at the flesh of the trees. Axes thumped against the bodies unceasingly, slowly cracking at their legs until they fell. Teams of oxen forlornly pulled skidders, taking the logs away to be stripped down and split.

This was his job though, and he couldn’t afford to lose it. Swinging his axe, Nuhesha began to shake, leaves rustling above. Doing so many times before, he quickly entered the rhythm of slamming the blade into the trunk, chunks of wood fell to the ground with every swing.

Lightning crawled across his skin, almost unbearable uncomfortable, but Dezzro knew it was restraining itself already. Intangible punishment unable to be negated, he could only accept that even if it was for the greater good, it could not be condoned. As the hour passed, Dezzro began to wipe his sweat away with a rough tunic at greater frequency, mostly as momentary respite.

The work itself did not create any exhaustion. While his muscles trembled, that came from resisting the backlash. The power of Niukuk bestowed Dezzro with great strength, among other boons from the great spirit.

The Lord of the Forest came into conflict with many of the other great spirits, however with the recent incursion of the humans and enslavement of the elves, his power recently had been on the rise. Most spirits of the forest stood by the natural world, and would not compromise their dedication for anything. For a long time the elves and other beast races sought the majority of their power from these beings and prospered alongside them.

However with the imbalance of power and the recent subjugation, the elves were quick to lose support from the spirits. It may have seemed like true and unwavering devotion to the cause, but that was only their arrogance. Pacts were not only to the benefit to the physical races, a spirit’s primary mechanism for growth depended on those who borrowed and nurtured their power.

With the inability to provide, both they and the races which made pacts quickly lost the power to put up any sort of resistance against the Church. Previously, they fought a losing battle, but now no longer had any chance against them.

In this time, Niukuk took advantage of the situation to raise his own following.

Dezzro was neither el nor beast; his only hair consisted of a dark brown beard that stretched up to his scalp, and his arms were thick and tanned from working outdoors. Nothing in particular set him against the Church, it could even be argued that his actions followed Tian Meng.

Perhaps the view needed to be slightly twisted to make sense, but the Patriarch desired for humanity to stand with their own ability against those who would bring their downfall. Dezzro took this to mean one should pursue power as a means to sustain themselves.

So despite the act that he currently acted as an underling for Niukuk, a being directly opposed to the Church, he didn't find that contrary to the religion. Given the great spirit’s ambitions, Dezzro’s attendance to religious ceremonies was beneath rebuke. Their end goals were diametrically opposed, but the difference in scale allowed them to work with one another.

After hours of passing from one tree to the next, the splinter of Niukuk’s soul never missed a chance to let an excruciating wave of pain pass over Dezzro. The lumberjack did his best to ignore it and continue on. He had long since grown used to the treatment, and understood it to be a far better deal than many of the other nature spirits who would offer up pacts. Niukuk delivered punishment to those who transgressed, but after doing so the matter was settled. While the others may excuse one or two instances with lesser punishments, enough slip ups would usually result in a termination of both pact and life.

After so many days of enduring, while Dezzro did manage to cope, the end of his work day came as a relief. The break was both physical and mental in nature. While not originally invested in the fate of the wilderness, pacts inevitably altered to kind of the recipient to some degree. Finding himself more empathetic to the suffering of the trees, eventually he found himself more distanced from the other lumberjacks—not that he'd been particularly social before.

Walking over to the forester’s station, he walked inside the log cabin. Behind a large desk void of decoration and covered in fastidiously aligned stacks of papers, the foreman perused symbols arcane to Dezzro. Messe hardly looked up, pulling a sheet with more ink than white space.

“You've been cutting things rather close Dezzro. The less you produce, the more likely you are to be fired. While having someone who knows the ropes and won't get themselves killed is good, your sympathy to the elves is another black mark. Quit toeing the line.” Messe chastised him with a quick summation, scratching at papers as Dezzro set his axe down with the others.

“So long as I fill my quota, there's no need for warnings. I'll do as I please otherwise.” Venting, the wiry overseer didn't even glance back. Of course, had the lumberjack a stricter boss he likely wouldn't have said anything. But in Messe’s eyes, so long as the work was completed, he didn't care for decorum. Lumberjacking wasn't exactly a high-class profession.

“So be it. Just remember that you’re on thin ice.” With a final dismissive wave, Messe shooed him off, muttering something about company property before Dezzro left.

With that settled, he did not return to the crowded campgrounds that he and other lower tier workers occupied. Neither comfortable, nor possessing any company that he would desire, Dezzro instead turned to the west. Luckily at this point in time the growth copse was not too far from where he was situated, and the journey to the elvish encampment would not be too arduous.

Walking the path with long and steady strides, he continued unperturbed by the sneers of those who caught sight of him. Naturally humans were superior to elves, but pursuing strength was a more foundational principle. His colleagues might disdain him, but not being able to infer a bigger picture and set aside minor details just meant their priorities were skewed.

Separating the two camps likely was for the better. The elves felt fear and the humans held on to their condescension, both burning with hatred towards the other. It cost a small amount of efficiency, but a measure of distance between the two helped reduce the chance any impulsive actions would be carried out, from either side.

However, for the most part it was to the benefit of mankind. After all, the elves did not voluntarily offer their services. Possessing freedom only nominally, their families were more or less held hostage. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, the unaging elves held a fear that pushed them to choose servitude over death. Not to mention they were kept in line by the guards that came into view as Dezzro approached the growth copse.

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Skirting along the edges, he failed to escape from a patrol’s sight.

“Well, if it wasn’t the little elf sympathizer, who would it be? Not surprised to see you here again.” Scoffing, a figure dressed in white robes with hair the color of dead grass stepped out from between the orderly tents. “I don’t know why you frequent here so often, but don’t even think about stirring up any trouble. This is the work of the Church and for the benefit of humanity.”

“I am faithful to the Patriarch. Compromising humanity is not something I would do, Brian.” Dipping his head in piety towards the Disciple, his tone only respected the position and not the individual. Having been among the logging camps for quite some time, he realized Brian had long since fallen off the path of promotion, and the Disciple knew it. That didn’t lessen the gap of power between them, but Brian mellowed in comparison to his fellows. Keeping a tightly run ship to maintain his position, so long as nothing went awry, he ended up fairly lax in his duties.

“See that you do not. Whatever you scheme, leave the one called Iyessi alone. I’ll not have you subverting my authority.”

“I respect the sanctity of a Disciple’s orders. It’s not as though I’m here to help them.”

“Enough with your mindless acquiescence, I’m done with you.” Exasperated, Brian sighed and rolled his eyes.

Dezzro came almost daily, and Brian personally caught him sneaking about at least once a week.  Compared to his fellow Disciples who proudly believed they woould soon advance to Clerics, and the lowly elves that needed kept in line, the trespassing lumberjack made for good company and a change of pace, even if he did only berate him. It wasn’t as if Dezzro could actual undermine the power of the Church.

Separating from the Disciple, Dezzro felt nothing about his apathy. Though he pursued power in life, the choices of others did not matter to him, except in relation to his own advancement. If Brian felt content with his meagre station, then so be it. There would only be fewer obstacles in Dezzro’s way.

Needing to last several years before the cycle shifted, tents were lined up in a regular fashion with less than a foot between the sides. Though the repetitive nature was much more difficult to navigate than an organic mess at first, finding the location no longer troubled him—though the elven conspirators seemed befuddled by order in perpetuity.

Entering a nondescript canvas shelter in a random row and column, with little fanfare he stepped atop the wooden base that elevated the semi-permanent shelter. A congregation of thin, reddish-pink figures looked at him in silence. Their pointed ears extended to the length of a hand and doubtless picked up on his approach long before reaching them.

Angular faces wrinkled with downturned mouths, not bothering to conceal their dislike of the human. Barely they managed to contain their malice and keep from outwardly directing it towards him in action. After all, while he may not have been a unique necessity, his power far surpassed that of the elves. Dezzro of course did not care what their opinion of him was.

“≈Good evening, Agent of Niukuk. May the Moons watch over the Forest together.≈”

“≈And the sun looks over the trees alone.≈” Flipping his tongue about, Dezzro responded with a phrase in elvish. He found it foolish, but they would not proceed otherwise. The Church needed no deception to deal with such a minor rebellion. Such a plot might be allowed to continue just to get more work out of the elves before they were executed. Dezzro felt confident that such was not the case from observing Brian and the other Disciples though. He was not risking his life for the cause, there were rewards to be had.

“Where is Aeshun? Waiting around like this is a waste of time.”

“≈His name is Aelun; have patience Ukinoh.≈” Sahlee retorted with youthful virtiol. Dezzro knew there would be no point chastising him. For all their self-aggrandizing claims of peace and wisdom, they were really just stubborn like the stump of an old tree. Sometimes you kick at the stump not because you expect it to move, but merely to vent your frustration towards it.

It only took a moment to draw up the power required. Niukuk was Lord of the FOrest, representing strength and the hunt—straightforward and to the point. Not only was raw power his domain, but Dezzro did not intend to harm Sahlee seriously, and only planned a warning for the elf to remember his place.

The power bestowed by Niukuk grew within his soul, a thorny plant tearing away at his insides. Tendrils sucked energy from the surroundings, and pieces of himself were ripped by the psychic thorns. At first he thought that it was a matter of course and an inescapable reality of the power that pain was necessary. With time and familiarity, Dezzro realized that wasn’t the case; power did not need to come from his own body, it could even be stopped, and theoretically—reversed.

Doing so was not worth the effort for such a small price, and Dezzro deduced that the fact yhe was fed on was actually what Niukuk gained from the pact between them. So to make sure that their partnership continued, Dezzro made allowances.

After gathering the energy came the true release. Currently unable to do so on his own, Dezzro manipulated the thorns in his soul as a proxy to fine tune the ability. The multitude of stems each carried a will shared amongst its thorns, coming together where they were truly rooted to his spirit. By pushing his own desire upon one, the vine would alter before the thorns released their accumulated power.  In this moment, the stem that sucked away the essence of his soul represented the movement of the beast, specifically branching off into a smaller vine that affected the wind. Making the ability harmful would require a great deal of energy from his body, but that was not his goal in this instance.

A fist-sized sphere of air appeared in front of him, with minor turbulences extending a foot from the center, compressing in under a second. Carrying a few minor particulates from the gritty surroundings, it hurled into Sahlee’s neck. Nonthreatening, and in cramped quarters with no room to dodge, the elf dismissed it, turning up his nose and closing his eyes to keep dust from entering them. However, as the projectile weakly collided with his exposed neck and ruffles his tunic, Sahlee yelped.

“Keep it down, Lahlee.” Dezzro did not smirk, but definitely felt content. The elves which lived in the thick and overgrown depths of the forest rarely ventured under the sun before their subjugation. Apparently other tribes went out into the sun more frequently and tolerated it better, but the ivory skinned tribe of this copse sunburned easily. They liked to act above it all, but for young ones like Sahlee, breaking their composure was easy.

“≈Sahlee, mind your tongue. This is what it means to be an Agent of Niukuk. All wrongs have a punishment, but after which, it is as if they never were. Do not mock him.≈ “ One of the older elves surprisingly interjected on Dezzro’s behalf. Though definitely reading too much into his actions, one of the reasons Dezzro had been able to make a pact was due to his compatibility with the great spirit.

If he had the power, he called it as he saw it, and dealt with things as they came. The past has no bearing on the future, only the now does. Perhaps he was more similar to his benefactor than he first thought.

Waiting in cramped quarters another minute or two, Dezzro noticed the ears of a few elves twitch as they waited. Seconds passed, and the lumberjack caught  Sahlee smirking in anticipation.

“Kuk!” Hunched over, an exceptionally tall elf with mossy-brown hair let out a shout, jumping inside. With an unamused look, Dezzro adjusted his folded arms.

“You better not have delayed me for mere games Aeshun.” The two narrowed their eyes at each other.

“You wound me. I was making sure everyone was alert and ready.” Aelun let out a tiny sigh before continuing, clearly lying before turning serious. “≈We must be vigilant with every move, making not a single mistake, for doing so will cost us our only chance at freedom!≈”

“Yet you recruited me.” What a joke. The bastion of levity named Aelun was free like the wind. Whimsy was the real reason he suspected the elf recruited him.

Unlike other denizens of the forest, the Ancestral Line of Aelun was much more liberal in their requirements. Due to this, the Ancestors passed to almost every generation. Even those who would never use the power took it up due to the nonexistent restrictions. Even if it was only the smallest bit, the Ancestral Line of Aelun slowly and steadily grew in power, limited only by their infrequent births.

Extinction was not a true threat to the line, even if there were two other inheritors at most presently. If he so wished, Aelun would at least be able to escape the aftermath alone. With his power and it’s lack of dependencies, he could more easily afford to take risks, stepping on uncertain ground trying to move forward.

The irony of him preaching caution was not lost on Dezzro.

Still, Aelun had been correct in assessing him to be mercenary; there no doubt had been a risk, but Aelun evaluated him correctly, gaining soon to be empowered Dezzro’s aid.

“≈Winter is coming, as you know; while we have long used those frozen hours to train, the time has come to begin making use of our longstanding preparations. The last major rainfall is predicted to come long before the first snow. Due to this, Felman plans to send the caravan to the capital early. Along with several other contingencies we have set in place, we should be able to avoid the eye of the Grand Cathedral for long enough to entrench ourselves in the region.≈” With a grin, Aelun fell into a hushed and rushed speech in elvish. Dezzro could not keep up with the fluid and accelerating pace overall, but he could catch all of what related to him.

Years of preparation were about to pay off for the long ears. Aelun kept some parts of his speech vague, but the lumberjack knew it was not due to restraint over his presence. Much as he accepted a spirit’s power to make up for his poor compatibility with the flow of life, Aelun likely sought the aid of forces similarly disdained by elves.

Though curious, Dezzro would not push the matter. Soon enough, the elves would revolt, and he would get his bonus. From there, he would cut ties while ahead of the game.

No point sticking around for when the rest of the Chapter descended on them.