A week passes quickly aboard the Timbergrove. Between training, studying, talking, and of course drinking, the destination is finally near. With the island now so close, I rush onto his neck and perch myself right on top of Myers shoulder.

“You said we’re almost there?” I ask.

“The island should be in vision soon. But, I want to warn you.” Myers raises a finger and points in the distance. “We've got a storm coming.”

Following the finger, a darkening horizon of clouds becomes visible. “The storm seems pretty far.”

“It is far, but it is also fast. I expect the storm to hit us by evening.”

“Shit. How bad of a storm are we talking about? Is it going to be as bad as the one when we arrived at the tower?”

“No,” The old man answers. “This storm will be extremely wet and manageably windy.”

“Right. So it’s not a threat.”

Myers grunts. “Not unless you plan to use cannons- or anything that fires a projectile. The wind and rain makes accuracy difficult unless you’ve got a high level [Gunner] with skills to calculate wind speed before each shot.”

I open his mouth to comment, but pause when a distant island comes into view.

“Holy shit, that’s a castle.”

In the distance, an island floats at Timbergroves elevation. On the island, and in the center of it is a castle partially melded into a mountain. The castle looks old and covered in stone without any greenery in sight. It also looks undamaged.

“Why the hell is there a castle? It looks abandoned,” I say.

“That is a recently risen island. The castle has recently risen with it.”

The fuck is risen? Did it just form out of the planet's crust or something?

“Explain.”

Myers strokes his beard. “Well, the nature of smaller islands is that they can be damaged to the point that they fall into the planet's crust and are turned into slag. At the same time, eruptions in the planet release large amounts of mana-rich stone. If the stone is large enough and well-shaped, the stone will then float and become a new island.”

That makes sense, I suppose. I mean, these islands were formed somehow.

“I can get behind that. But, what's with the castle? Shouldn’t it have turned into slag?” I ask.

Myers leans a hand on the helm. He uses the other hand to reach into a coat pocket and retrieve a spyglass. “Generally, defensive structures like castles or town walls have runes engraved into the stone. These runes enhance the stone to make it stronger.”

“Strong enough to withstand the planet's core? Seems impossible, otherwise anything with these runes are going to be indestructible.”

Myers chuckles. “A good and logical answer, even correct, but what you forget is that these runes run on ambient mana. Castle walls can only hold long enough until the mana runs out and you are left with mere stone until they regenerate from ambient mana. In most cases, this can take days, if not weeks to recover to full strength.”

Well, that's good to know if I ever have a need to siege a castle. I just have to keep shooting at it until it runs out of mana.

“In most cases,” I repeat.

“Yes. Regeneration speed is based on ambient mana. Ambient mana is most densest at the planet's core.”

Ohhhh.

“So the runes regenerate faster than the damage from heat.”

Myers extends his spyglass and looks through it. “Correct. Though, sometimes the descent of the island crashing can cause damage to the castle, but this structure looks perfectly preserved. We should be able to find many valuables inside.”

The old man raises the spyglass to my face. I look through it and am met with a far better sight of the structure. So far, there is nothing special about the structure. It looks very much like a medieva- “I see tentacles!” I shout.

long slender tentacles seems to appear and wrap around the opposite side of the island.

Surprised, Myers shifts the spyglass back to his vision. Then he laughs gleefully.

“There's a gardener already here.”

“A what?”

“You’ll see it soon. Please go grab Clay. He needs to see this.”

I give Myers another look, but the old fart is just smiling like a fat kid holding a chocolate cake. An entire chocolate cake, mind you.

“Fine. Just give me a moment.”

When I return with myself in Clay’s arms, we’ve traveled close enough that I can finally see the source of those tentacles. Me and Clay both stare at what amounts to a gigantic floating whale larger than Valentine's ship. The whale, if you can call it that, is wedged to the side of the island with its mouth firmly open. From its mouth, hundreds, if not thousands of tentacles roam the island secreting some kind of acidic liquid.

But, what truly impresses me is the whale's body. Trees, shrugs, greenery- an entire forest covers every inch of the whale's body. I can see animals roaming around and dozens of various bird species flying around the whale.

“Myers, I’ve brought Clay. Now explain what the hell that is,” I ask the grinning old man.

Myers looks at me and clay with a childlike smirk. He extends a palm towards the whale. “That is a Gardener of Tristique. They are the most beloved and respected beasts to roam the skies. To see one is considered a blessing by all that roam the skies.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Alright. Sure. Simple explanation aside, what exactly are they and what is it doing? Why are they called gardeners?”

“Because that is what they are. Tell me, have you wondered why so many islands are covered in plants and animals? Why they even have life on them?” he asks me.

I frown. “Honestly, no. But now that you raise the question…”

I take a good look at the Gardener and note some of the plants and birds.

I’ve seen some of those species in Arbor.

“This Gardener is seeding the newly formed islands. They’re creating life. But what's with the tentacles? Are they consuming something?” I ask.

The old man leans on the orb. He smiles at the wide eyes of Clay. The child is mesmerized by the hulking living island.

“Gardeners are attracted to recently risen islands because of extreme nutrient and mana density of the stone. Their tentacles break down the stone into soil, which then allows them to absorb the nutrients within. Whatever nutrient and soil not absorbed is adequate enough for plants to take route. After several Gardeners and a decade of time, an island with adequate rainfall will turn into a green biome.”

That is such an impressive ecosystem.

“Do people hunt these Gardeners?”

Myers' smile disappears. “Only by the ignorant, stupid, and the desperate. Attacking a Gardener is a sin- though idiots will try in hope of taking a Gardener's core.”

“So people try,” I say.

“And die every single time.”

Dayum. “I’m guessing they fight back.”

The old man shakes his head. “No, they don’t. Gardeners are the most peaceful things in all of Tristique and at the same time they are the most destructive.”

“That seems odd. How can you be the most peaceful and most destructive at the same time?” I ask.

The old man stops leaning on the orb. With a firm touch, the Timbergrove starts to slow down as we are approaching closer to the island.

“When a Gardener is about to die or is severely damaged, their bodies undergo an explosive reaction. One moment they are in pain, and the next, their bodies explode with such force and heat that everything several miles around them is vaporized. Those safe and far enough away have described the result as a mushroom cloud.”

Holy shit, that’s a nuclear explosion! No wonder nobody attacks them. It’s complete suicide.

“Um.” Clay raises his hand up. Then he points it near the island. “What is that?”

Me and Myers follow the child's finger to find a vine. A single thick vine extending half a mile from a nearby island to the island of our destination. Taking a good look at the other island, I can't help but note that the island was seemingly sheared in half.

“That is odd. Do vines extend like that?” I ask.

“No. That’s clearly a work of magic,” Myers says.

“Do you think Valentine or one of his crew made that?”

The old man frowns. “Doubtful. He has no reason to. I believe it is best to be wary though. The castle may not be as empty as we believe.”

____________________________________________________________

We park the timbergrove at the closest point of the island to the castle. Then we tie the ship down to nearby fissures of stone. When that is done, I look at my crew.

“Alright, who doesn’t want to go visit an abandoned castle?” I ask.

None raise their hands.

Yea, figured as much.

“We can’t all leave. Someone still has to watch the ship.”

No answer.

“Fine. I guess I choose. Myers, Emma, Clay, and Cillian will come with me. Boriss and Irmgard, you both have ship defense duty.”

Irmgard nods, and Boriss salutes with a frown.

Exiting the ship, I can't help but find the ground mostly covered in basalt. Clearly, when the island rose, it was smothered in lava that quickly cooled.

I wonder if it is specifically basalt that a Gardener is attracted to.

Traversing the mostly basalt flooring is simple, moreso because I am not doing the walking. Clay is. Arriving at the castle's entrance, it is clear that Valentine was here before on account of the shattered remains of the stone gate near the entrance.

“This castle is immensely old,” Myers comments. The old man touches the stone interior with a finger. “This masonry was formed by hand and not by magic. The few structures that have been built in such a way are over a millennium old.”

“Any idea to whom this castle belonged to?” I ask.

“No. But I imagine we can find out if there is a library wing.”

“This is fun!” Clay yells eagerly. The child is all but ready to enter the dense darkness of the castle.

“I wonder if they have some aged booze,” Cillian comments.

I snort. “We’re here for treasure, not booze.”

The Scott ignores me. Instead, he retrieves a lantern from his pack and lights it. “Lets go.” He stops towards the entrance, but I quickly hop in front. “Me first. I can see in the dark and I can react faster than anyone here to danger.

Grumbling, Cillian allows me to lead them inside. Traveling past the gatehouse, we’re met with the remains of [guards] and their rusted equipment. Some of the equipment looks to have melted a bit too.

“Let's hope the treasure isn’t melted.”

“Most castles have runes built to protect from high temperatures,” Myers adds.

“Most?”

“Generally, areas where nobility spend their time are temperature regulated.”

“I see.”

Past the gatehouse, we’re met with what looks like a man-made cave system.

“Is this part of the castle?” Emma asks.

“It’s the bailey, except it is covered in stone. Looks like Valentine mined out the rock.”

“With magic.” The old man feels the cave stone. “It is too smooth if done manually.”

“Well, it’s good that he did, because I didn’t bring a pickaxe. Now, let's go explore. Keep behind me.”

Traveling through the bailey, we find our first destination. The barracks is open with the door in shambles. Clearly, someone in Valentine's group doesn’t know how doors work. Entering inside, I’m met with disappointment.

“Everything is melted,” I announce. “Even the bones.”

The wood is all charcoal and the metal has liquified into a mess.

“I guess they don’t care if the barracks gets a tad too hot.”

“Check the [Head Guards] Quarters,” Myers encourages.

Down past where the [Guards] sleep, we find an office with a door turned to coal and the hinges melted down. Inside, we are met with a cool breeze but also more coal and melted metal. On the ceiling, a rune is aglow.

“That’s a rune of air current,” Emma pipes up. “It doesn't control the temperature, but it can cool anyone sitting under it.”

“Enough to make a [Head Guard] comfortable, but not enough to deal with extreme heat,” I comment. The armory where the [Guards] get their equipment is also melted. If ever I need metal, I know where to get it.

With the barracks a dud, we find our way to the servants quarters as well as the storage area. Same problem.

But, when we enter the Keep, the temperature instantly becomes perfect.

“Finally. We’re getting somewhere.”

Once we enter the Keep, I quickly halt. My ears wiggle.

“Someone is here.”