The rest of the chat between Anastacia and Acacia consisted of mostly of the necromancer updating the spriggan on the happenings in the outside world as things truly were instead of the slightly altered version where she still had anything to do with Mournvalley, and in return, the spriggan told stories from far in the past, including the last time they had seen necromancers. Anastacia also shared with them the rest of the plan regarding Sorbus, though Acacia already seemed to be fairly informed about how things were, almost as if they had followed the necromancer and fox into the glade earlier. Acacia also promised to teach Sorbus about different plants that were beneficial to people, as well as about the different maladies and diseases mortals suffered from – something which the cat seemed to know suspiciously much about. Over the course of the interaction, Anastacia’s body slowly got more used to the daunting presence that was Acacia, but never to a point she would have even considered getting any closer to them than was absolutely needed.
“It depends where you draw a line between the ancient beasts that predate the cycle of souls and the first animals as they are today. There were tons of beasts and creatures similar to some animals you see today, usually the god responsible for creating the latter having ascended from among the former – but if you were to pick the literal first animal that was created to be part of the cycle, it was the frog. They’re based on much fiercer primordial creatures called the froggaths, which are almost indistinguishable from the outside… Anyway, the flow of time was a bit hazy back then since everything was immortal and days weren’t a thing, but I’m fairly sure there was like a solid year or so where the only animals you could see were frogs, just tons of them everywhere.” The cat answered one of Anastacia’s less important questions regarding the ancient times as they were on their way back to Xamiliere and Sorbus.
“How were the froggaths different from frogs then, and are there any left?” The necromancer further inquired.
Acacia stopped for a moment to remind themselves what exactly made them different from frogs, aside from their ageless existence. “For one, they don’t croak. Instead they make a noise that makes most mortals think they’re hearing a frog croaking. The easiest way to tell them apart from frogs is probably just addressing them in their own language, they’re compelled to answer if you do that. There’s no reason to think there wouldn’t be plenty of them left living among normal frogs, you might have already run into one or two if you’re the kind that sees a lot of frogs.”
“So you’re saying it’s not possible for me to tell them apart since I don’t speak froggathian, or whatever?” Anastacia sighed.
“I’m sure someone here can teach you a greeting for them.” Giggled the spriggan.
Telling frogs and froggaths apart from one another was a trivial task compared to telling when Acacia bothered to answer honestly and when they came up with nonsensical answers in an effort to make someone else look like an idiot. It was more than possible that the entire thing was a lie just to make Anastacia question the identity of each and every frog she would see from now on. Over the course of the morning, many such suspicious answers had been given, and despite having been granted the rare chance to speak with someone who had been there from the first few moments of existence, she didn’t feel at all more knowledgeable about the past in the end. Even if everything the spriggan said was true, a lot of it was impossible to verify and would have seemed like the ravings of a lunatic if she was ever to share the knowledge with anyone.
“One physically intact necromancer, as promised!” Acacia declared to the other two spriggans waiting for them when they and Anastacia made it back to the rock. “I would suggest that you were timely about your return to this Hasta fellow.”
“Did you learn anything interesting, Anna?” Xamiliere asked and stood up to greet the necromancer.
After sliding down from the massive root they had been walking along, Anastacia immediately tilted her head back and fixated her gaze at the massive branches of the great tree far above them. “You could say that.” She answered and carefully stepped towards the rock until she bumped into Xamiliere.
Xamiliere tiredly squeezed the necromancer’s cheeks and sighed. “Trying really hard not to stare at Sorbus, huh?”
“What could you possibly mean? I’m just admiring the leaves up there. They’re… very big and… colorful. Yup, don’t see all those colors on one tree, let alone at one time. Some of those colors I’ve not seen on leaves before at all.” Anastacia prattled out a hasty excuse. “The branches too, very impressive! I bet even the smaller ones could carry my weight. I should keep looking at them… Focus on them entirely and not think about anything else…”
“Anna, you looking at Sorbus is between you two, I’m not going to be that upset about something like that. You don’t need to worry that much.” Xamiliere said and leaned over the necromance to block her line of sight of the treetops. “You’re just going to hurt your neck.”
Anastacia shook her head and kept fighting the urge to look anywhere else. “I’d rather you not be upset at all, so this is how things are going to be for a while.”
“Is there a problem? Should I change something?!” Sorbus asked, concerned that they had messed up something about their new body.
“Not really, you may have done too good of a job in fact. It’s just that spring has finally arrived to this idiot and she can’t handle the excitement yet. She barely knows which way is up with you prancing around without clothes.” Explained Xamiliere. Even she was starting to find the trouble Anastacia was having more endearing than something she needed to worry about.
Sorbus clapped, as was the mortal custom when something exciting happened, as far as they knew at least. “How fun! Very people-like of her to pretend she has control over her own urges, I guess that’s what being civilized means.”
It didn’t take much for Xamiliere to figure out exactly what was going through Anastacia’s head. She knew Acacia would do their absolute damnest to steer the situation in the direction they thought was the most entertaining, and had certainly said something to the necromancer during their chat. Since the poor fool was now trying very hard to not hurt her feelings, it must have had something to do with some piece of ‘advice’ Anastacia had received. For someone who usually required no persuasion or approval to do exactly what she herself wanted exactly how she wanted, the amount of resolve the necromancer was showing was truly touching to Xamiliere, but not what she ultimately wanted. Anastacia’s undivided attention and dedication would have indeed been the dream for her, but one that conflicted with reality in several ways. The idea that the relatively brief time Anastacia had to live would be in any way chained by something as petty as the insecurities of a timeless being, was beyond disgusting to her, even more so now that she had spent time thinking about it while Anastacia was with Acacia. She knew that in the end nothing else would make her happier, than the foolish little mortal she had been captivated by living her short life exactly as she desired – now if she herself happened to catch some form of affection by simply making herself available, that was a different matter entirely.
“Well, Anna, if that’s what you figured works for you, I’m not going to stop you, but don’t hold back on my account.” Xamiliere shrugged, buried her insecurities and selfish needs deep within before giving the necromancer’s cheeks one more squeeze and returning to her spot on the rock. With her own selfish thoughts firmly tucked away, what began to surface was the intense need to mock the mortal for acting so reserved – something all nature spirits felt and what she often acted on back in Valor, where she was the odd one out.
“It’s nothing! I can control a hundred bodies with my mind, surely I can keep mine in check for a bit. It’s like fighting the urge to stare at the sun, probably better for myself to have this under control as well.” Anastacia kept insisting, partly believing her own words but mostly because of what Acacia had said.
“You have an urge to stare at the sun?...” Xamiliere frowned. She was starting to get almost annoyed by the necromancer’s well-intentioned stubbornness for her sake and decided give in to her spriggan nature to nip the problem in the bud. “I mean, whatever! Guess it’s entirely up to me to recognize all the hard work Sorbus put into this then!” She suddenly exclaimed and shoved Sorbus over on the rock, purely for the sound it made.
Though perhaps slower on the uptake than most, Sorbus quickly understood their part in the ruse, as testing the necromancer’s resolve was at the top of their to-do list as well now that they had learned of their appearance’s effects on her. “Oh?! This is what we’re doing now?” They giggled and got back up as quietly as they could.
“What are you doing?!” Anastacia immediately demanded to know but covered her eyes without looking. “Acacia, what are they doing?! Tell me!”
“Something better left without description, I’m afraid.” Acacia smirked from atop the root. “But certainly this is not enough to break the steel of your will, is it?”
Being a necromancer, Anastacia usually had some idea of what was going on in her vicinity even without seeing most of it. Being left guessing based on nothing but sound cues of wooden clatter and grinding of bark against bark was both new and extremely distressing, as her mind worked overtime to fill in what she was missing out on. Yet, her conviction prevailed for the time being. She had been told to demonstrate that her affection for Xamiliere was greater than whatever fleeting fancies she might have had and that was exactly what she was going to do, no matter the traps laid out for her to fall into.
In reality, what was happening was simply the pair of spriggans occasionally bumping into each other’s shoulders to create the rustling of stressed wood and dragging their forearms together while giggling and gasping.
“You’ve done an excellent job choosing the tree for your body. This is rowan, is it not?” Xamiliere gave a genuine comment aloud to further fuel the necromancer’s imagination. “Smooth to the touch but there is a texture to it when caressed. It works extremely well with your height and slender upper body, since it means there are larger broad areas – like here.” She said and smacked her own knee.
“Yes! It has always been my favorite tree!” The fox yelped and held back laughter. “Honestly, I didn’t know what to do with all this stuff you have here, and the necromancer seems to do fine without, so I just left them out and focused on other things. Do you mind if I…”
“Go ahead, they’re there to be a handful anyway – a personal preference of mine. You can sort yours out on a later date if it comes up, but honestly I think you’ve got a perfectly good baseline going. You’ve certainly got more than a handful elsewhere.” Xamiliere continued providing actual feedback while the two of them excitedly waited for the necromancer to cave in to their teasing.
Red as a cherry, Anastacia had fallen silent and was now almost worried it wouldn’t be appropriate to look anymore even if she wanted to, which she desperately did. Every second, Acacia’s suggestion was quickly losing ground to Xamiliere’s reassurance that she wouldn’t be upset even if someone else caught the necromancer’s eye for a bit. For a while still, she kept holding her fingers together in front of her eyes so tightly that they were starting to hurt, because she knew that anything less than that would immediately make her slip up and take a peek.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Like these things right here. The nightmares that Hasta guy is having will be a thing of the past with his head resting between legs like these – just be careful to not crush his head.” Xamiliere said and grinned victoriously as she finally saw the glimmer of the necromancer’s eyes through a gap between her fingers. “So that’s what it took to do it, huh? Good to know.”
“I… what? Weren’t you…? But I thought-“ Anastacia confusedly uttered when she saw the two spriggans simply sitting on the edge of the rock and the situation not at all corresponding to what she had imagined.
Xamiliere reached out with her arms to invite the necromancer to her with a gentle smile on her face, and when Anastacia hesitantly approached, she locked her in a tight embrace she would not release before Anastacia herself would wiggle out of it. “That was adorable, but never again even consider that you holding back on anything you want to do would make me happy.” She whispered while glaring at the smugly smiling cat watching over them.
“Okay…” Anastacia agreed, but didn’t entirely discard the point Acacia had made, she would simply have to come up with some other way to show her affection.
Sorbus, on the other hand, was very proud of what they had achieved and suddenly very full of confidence for their new getup. For a while, they had the patience to wait for Anastacia and Xamiliere to detach from one another, but when that didn’t seem to be happening any time soon, they started dropping very overt hints that maybe it was time to go back to meet Hasta now. When even that failed to snap the pair out of their bliss, Acacia decided to say something.
“I think Sorbus is right, it is better if you go back soon.” The cat pointed out in a tone that somehow sounded more like a threat than anything else and immediately killed the warm mood.
Anastacia reluctantly freed herself from Xamiliere’s grasp, took a few steps away from the rock and mentally prepared to turn around. “Okay, okay, okay, let me just get this out of my system.” She said exhaustedly and turned around to finally get a good look at Sorbus. She turned bright red almost immediately and remained silent for a full minute, barely blinking while thoroughly inspecting what she saw.
“How long do you reckon this might take? Should we worry that I broke her?” Sorbus asked from Xamiliere.
“Shouldn’t be that long anymore. There’s always been a couple of loose parts rattling inside her head as far as I can tell, so I don’t think you’ve done any lasting damage – though you may have done a number on her innocence.” Xamiliere guessed. “What I think is going on, is that she’s learning more about herself than anything else. Stuff that everyone who knows her has already seen coming for a while now really. You would think she would have figured at least some of this out when she started rubbing herself on the second tall simulacrum she found, but apparently some of it is still a mystery to her.”
Sorbus nodded, understanding roughly what she meant. “Shouldn’t you be working on yourself then, if you’re serious about this? You’ve got the freedom to take any shape under the sun you want after all.”
“I’m taking notes, trust me.” Xamiliere said and let out a chuckle that turned into a sigh. “It’s not that simple though. Would you alter your usual fox look that lightly? This is what I feel comfortable as and that won’t change – but that doesn’t mean I won’t make temporary adjustments to blow her mind when she least expects it.”
“How very sly of you, but won’t saying as much now spoil the surprise?” The fox pondered and pointed at the necromancer, who was standing barely two meters away.
Xamiliere waved her hand to the necromancer, which caused no reaction. “She hasn’t been on this realm for a while now. You could probably get up and leave, and she wouldn’t notice anymore.” She explained leaned back to wait. “Sorbus, can I ask for a favor?”
“Of course! What can this little fox do?!” Sorbus excitedly answered, not being used to someone relying on them.
“I need you to watch over Anna while you’re out there.” Xamiliere whispered. “I get that this guy probably isn’t bad, but she can get careless and that clearly can get her hurt there. So if you could sort of spearhead the whole operation and keep her to the side, it would mean a lot to me.”
Sorbus’s green eyes flared as they were given responsibility over something so important. “Of course!” She exclaimed full of determination.
“This is all very fun to watch, but I really do think it’s about time for you to return to the poor guy.” Acacia pitched in again.
Xamiliere had noticed that the cat had been hurrying for them to go ever since the chat with Anastacia had ended. It was more than a bit suspicious behavior for the spriggan who often preferred a role as a spectator, so Xamiliere figured that the cat must have known something they were unwilling to reveal directly. She had her doubts that it was anything too drastic, but felt that it was likely better to play along if it was truly important enough for Acacia to take note. “Anna!” She raised her voice and managed to snap the necromancer back into the present.
“Wh… what?” Anastacia asked, still red and clearly disoriented but at least mentally present. Her eyes bounced between both spriggans instead of staying glued to Sorbus, so her situation had at least improved during the internal journey she had taken in the past couple of minutes.
“Time to go.” Xamiliere smiled and pointed at Sorbus, who could barely stay still over the excitement that they would finally get the chance to meet face to face with Hasta. As soon as the necromancer so much as nodded, the fox darted up from the rock, grabbed Anastacia’s hand and rushed into the forest without a moment or word spared for farewells. After waiting for the two to disappear into the distance, Xamiliere spoke up again. “Care to tell me what’s the hurry?”
Acacia chuckled, surprised that Xamiliere would bring up the matter instead of simply ignoring them until Anastacia returned. “Ballow leaf is indeed a marvelous plant for mortal medicine. It will ease fever and even excruciating pain, and can be given even to the little ones. In pressing situations chewing on it is possible for adults, but without some extraction and distillation it will cause fatigue and nausea as well.” They simply stated without giving away the full answer before moving on from the subject onto other things, showing no intention of leaving Xamiliere in peace while Anastacia and Sorbus were off to deal with the ramifications of their earlier actions. “So, adventurers, huh?”
Emerging from the mysterious and ancient pathway between forests, Anastacia was immediately dragged out into the open glade by the excited spriggan. The direct sunlight scorching whatever southern part of the world they were in almost blinded her after the relatively shaded stay in the grove, and she immediately took a tumble into the untamed grass.
“Oh shit!” Sorbus exclaimed, having failed their task of looking after the necromancer in less than a minute.
“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.” Anastacia reassured the spriggan, who kneeled next to her to make sure she wasn’t dead. Laying on her back, she covered her face partly to shield her eyes from the sun and partly to still avoid direct eye contact with Sorbus. The sheer amount of life around them took some adjusting after being in the grove. As a sensation it was not that much unlike the blinding sunlight, though less painful. However, focusing on their surroundings, she happened to pick up on something odd. “Huh? He’s still in bed. Didn’t take him for someone who sleeps in.”
It was easy to tell if someone is sleeping even from afar, but that didn’t seem to be the case for Hasta on further inspection. Even if he was a restless sleeper, something wasn’t quite right. Based on the few physical clues Anastacia could pick up from such a distance, the elf seemed to be in some level of distress, which could well have been his usual aches, but the necromancer’s mind immediately reminded her of the very questionable remedy she had concocted. Fueled and distracted by guilt, Anastacia scrambled back up on her feet and started rushing towards the little hut.
“Is something wrong?” Sorbus asked after effortlessly catching up, but received no answer.
Reaching the more maintained perimeter and the hut itself, Anastacia was the first to reach for the naturally curved piece of a branch that had been nailed to the door to serve as a handle. Her hand never had the time to touch it though, as Sorbus yanked her away – after all, they had promised to keep the necromancer out of harm’s way. Anastacia would have asked for a reason, but managed to come up with the correct one before having the chance to do so and accepted her fate as the backup – which may well have been more fitting for the purpose of the visit.
With the necromancer out of the way, Sorbus grabbed the doorhandle without hesitation, and was immediately greeted by a flash of blue light as a number of magical sigils briefly lit up around it and a jolt of magical energy blew apart the wooden hand that had touched the trapped door. She hadn’t had the time to take cover, so the necromancer could only stand there as smoldering bits of spriggan rained down around her.
Mostly unfazed by the sudden disappearance of one of their hands, Sorbus showed the scorched sump to their friend with an amused-looking smirk on their face instead of the quizzical look they had meant to make.
“Are you okay?” Anastacia asked for the sake of being nice, she knew such a minor injury was nothing to a spriggan after all. “What kind of an asshole traps their front door when I told him we’d be back?!”
It only took a few seconds for a new, slightly less aesthetically pleasing hand to grow back from the stump. “I’m going to try again.” The spriggan stated and tapped the doorhandle, this time without any surprise fireworks. With the trap disabled, they were able to grab the handle properly and give the door a pull, but aside from a worrying creak from the entire frame of the hut, it wouldn’t budge.
Taking a quick look at the door, Anastacia saw the keyhole of a fairly sturdy-looking lock below the handle. “WHY IS IT LOCKED?! THERE IS NO ONE HERE TO BREAK INTO YOUR SHITTY CABIN!” She screamed out of frustration.
Eluded by the concept of locks on doors, Sorbus figured the door must have been stuck. They shoved their fingers into the small gaps between it and the frame on both sides, and gave it one more pull for good measure. With a loud creak followed by a crash, the metal hinges tore themselves out of the wall and latch locking the door broke through the frame on the other side. Hasta’s carpentry skills must have needed some more work, as it really didn’t seem to require all that much strength from the spriggan to remove the entire door. Not finding an easy place to set the door down in the small porch area, Sorbus tossed it onto the yard and prepared to enter, and then prepared some more, and then kept on preparing.
“What’s up?” Anastacia asked from the hesitating spriggan.
“What if I scare him after all?” Sorbus worried and nervously moved their hands, not really sure what to do with them.
The necromancer leaned to the side a bit and took a peek inside. “That’s not really here or there. Judging from the lack of screaming after getting a hole torn into his house, he seems to be pretty out of it. I can see him from here, in fact.” She pointed out. The sheer inconvenience and the attempt to literally disarm her may have slightly eroded her concern for the elf.
“Oh…” The spriggan entered the hut, having to slightly lower their head to get through the empty door frame and only barely being able to stand up straight without knocking something down from the storage space above the ceiling beams.
Somewhere between asleep and unconscious, drenched in sweat, Hasta was clearly suffering from some level of poisoning as a result of the drink Anastacia had prepared last time. A very needed vomit bucket by the bed filled the inside of the cabin with the stinging smell of stomach acid and dissuaded the necromancer from following her friend inside.
“Okay, so we may have somewhat poisoned him.” She admitted and tried to estimate Hasta’s condition from the outside. “I think he’s fine… -ish, but probably more than a bit dehydrated. Can you hand me a pot or something from there? I’ll go boil and cool down some water from the lake. While I do that, throw that bucket somewhere and open the window to get some fresh air in.”
Sorbus hurriedly did as they were asked and Anastacia left the two alone for a moment to get some water. As she was rinsing the pot she had been given, she could see the spriggan push the window out of its frame, breaking the hinges and lock on it as well.
Unsure of what to do next, Sorbus sat down on the bed and just stared at the elf. Utterly fascinated by each little twitch and gasp, the spriggan cautiously poked and prodded him in the chest as it seemed to cause an interesting twitch every time. “Hello there, my name is Sorbus… Hi, my name is Sorbus… Welcome? No… Good morning?” They muttered, trying to come up with something to say for when Hasta finally woke up. It wasn’t the first or the second time they had done so either, as almost every time they were in the glade, Sorbus’ thoughts were mostly consumed by the idea of speaking to Hasta for the first time. Yet no progress on the matter had ever been made on any front and they were still stuck on the greeting. While thinking, Sorbus noticed the piece of silvery jewelry dangling from Hasta’s wrist. Not knowing that Anastacia’s presence was the reason behind its seemingly uncomfortable fit, the spriggan figured that it would be wise to take off such a restricting piece of metal and began inspecting the simple clasp. Perhaps not the most dexterous with their hands yet, Sorbus accidentally broke the chain and the medallion fell off Hasta’s arm. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…” They panicked and started to look for a place to hide the hopefully-not-precious piece of jewelry. Not finding a convenient place as quickly as they had hoped, the spriggan grabbed it and shoved the medallion into their mouth in the hopes that it would be entirely forgotten about and they could discard it after changing back into their fox shape.
As the last of the silvery chain disappeared into the tangled depths of the wooden body, never to be seen again, Sorbus glanced up and saw one cloudy and one perhaps rightfully frightened eye staring back at them from the other end of the bed. “Helbcome, therbus sorme me… No! I… goobus my narbus!” Was the incomprehensible string of panicked nonsense that came out from the spriggan’s mouth as the first thing said between the two.