By the time Lady Von Mori returned, and it was very much Lady Von Mori, only a fool would refuse her the title, the fire had burnt itself to ash, the last embers had cooled, and the first hints of sunrise to made themselves known. Alec lay asleep, the necromancer’s dark cloak wrapped around him, a kindness which regrettably had had to be applied after the young teen had slipped into slumber.

This time the dryad entered without the theatrical flair, walking into the clearing with a girl of around Alec’s early-teen years, at least in appearance, at her heels and clutching a branch of wood to her chest. Of course, upon closer inspection, the girl was also a dryad, albeit not quite as obviously or grandly as the lady of the forest. Her hair was probably the biggest giveaway, waxy and red, while the girl’s nails were almost talons.

“This is Holly,” Von Mori said in the way of explanation. “She has agreed to accompany you through the forest.”

“I was hoping for a dryad out of their first century.” It was probably as close as Erebus ever got to an outright complaint.

“She was the only volunteer,” was Von Mori’s chilly reply.

“And has she been made aware of the consequences?”

“Indeed she has.”

It was only now that the necromancer addressed Holly directly, voice still hushed to avoid waking the sleeping Alec. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know.” Holly replied firmly.

“It’s probably not my business, but why did you volunteer?”

“How else is a dryad supposed to see the world?” she replied as if it were obvious.

That actually earned a brief smile from Erebus, “Very well, I only hope that hindsight does not find the price of your wanderlust too high.”

“Only one way to find out,” Holly stated blithely.

“Very well, return to your tree, we will join you shortly,” he commanded quietly, with Holly gratefully complying, to be this far from her soulbound plant was a strain despite her mother’s aid.

“Doubts, necromancer?” Von Mori asked once the young dryad had disappeared.

“I would have to be an unusually cruel monster to not,” Erebus replied quietly.

“True,” the elder dryad observed. “But this was your idea.”

“Desperate times call for terrible ideas,” Erebus said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Your paladin is closing on this clearing,” Von Mori declared suddenly, her gaze now sightlessly focused on the middle distance. “Wake the child, we must move.”

“How do you know?” the magician asked, though moving to wake Alec regardless.

“This is my forest, I know everything that happens within it, though I know not how he has our location, the trees had led him on a merry chase these past hours yet now he makes for us as a bloodhound upon a scent. I wonder what changed,” she mused aloud.

Erebus shook Alec’s shoulder none too gently. “Wake up boy! Wake up.”

Groggily by the third such shake the boy complied, throwing his protector’s cloak off of him as soon as he was awake enough to notice it. “Wha- what’s going on?” he asked, the last word modulated by a titanic yawn whilst he stretched.

“We need to move, fast. Von Mori says that… a predator is closing in on the clearing. If either of us is to see the dawn then we must go now!” The urgency in his tone spurred Alec to wakefulness; anything that could scare such a dread creature as a necromancer could probably scare and kill him.

The necromancer grabbed his cloak and pack, shrugging them on before kneeling down to pick up his staff. “Now we run,” he said softly, following his own advice.

As the three made their way through the forest — technically two as Von Mori was the forest — Erebus found himself with the surprisingly arduous task of keeping up with the dryad whilst also ensuring that the young Alec was not left behind.

Fortunately, Holly’s tree proved a mere mile away, admittedly with ample opportunity to get lost along the way, their path speeded in Von Mori’s wake, miraculously cleared of the byzantine snares and tripwires a forest floor became at any speed above a walk. Despite the disparate paces, they all made it safely to the tree, a young holly unsurprisingly.

“What’s the lifespan?” Erebus asked with even greater seriousness than usual.

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“Most I’ve ever seen a holly manage is five of your centuries, but most don’t even reach one,” Von Mori said boredly, not seeing the point of the question.

He sighed heavily, “A pity. I can only offer her two hundred years, you see I’m not lich material.” There was the barest hint of a wry smile at the last bit.

“It is longer than she would expect,” Von Mori snapped coldly.

“Considering I am literally about to rend soul from flesh I think I owe her more than under half her potential lifetime,” Erebus remarked, voice full of ire, if not anger. His expression soon changed as his gaze fell upon Alec, from grim determination to a quiet thoughtfulness. “Tell me boy, what does the Order teach you about dryads?”

Von Mori nearly lost her temper. “We don’t have time for this!” she almost screamed, just managing to remember to keep her voice down.

“There is always time for rational discourse,” Erebus said calmly. Von Mori went to argue only to stop as he held up a palm for silence, achieving easily with authoritative body language what he had almost failed to achieve with magic. “I will be brief.”

“You’d better be,” the forest spirit grumbled, folding her arms. “Time is against us, your ‘predator’ draws near, though at least he appears uncertain of the path.”

“Well Alec? Answer the question,” Erebus ordered as kindly as he could.

“Uh well… they’re tree spirits, nearly every tree has one and uh… if you cut down their tree then they die. Forest ones don’t like people but they usually won’t hurt you unless you’re lighting a fire or carrying an axe, I think,” Alec managed, struggling from being put on the spot.

“Better than I expected from paladin teachings,” Erebus admitted, “Though mildly inaccurate.” The mage paused, clearly mulling something over in his mind. “This tree’s dryad has offered to guide us through the forest, but to do that I’m going to have to hurt her very badly,” he began, trying to put the process into words that wouldn’t come over as too eldritch for a person who had spent their entire lives under the paladin yoke.

“Why would you want to do that?” asked Alec, looking confused.

“Because…” A brief pause as he chose with care the words he’d use, “Because it’s the only way to allow a dryad to move so far from its tree. Now I need you to do something for me if you’re willing. To move away from her tree, a dryad needs to be bound to a person, much like how they are already bound to their tree.” Another sigh from Erebus. “If I bind her to me then she’ll be forced to spend the rest of her life in musty libraries, cold stone walls and colder caves, which is why, with your permission, I’d like to bind her to you.”

“Huh?” was the shocked response.

“Snap out of it Alec, normally I’d demand you both take months to make such a decision but we don’t have anything like that sort of time. The monster I mentioned will soon pick up our trail, yes or no. Decide.”

Seconds trickled past until the teen broke the silence. “. . . yes.

“Okay.” Erebus put his pack down and fished out an axehead and a small handle. With a mechanical click, he slid the axehead into place then pulled the base of the handle down, the steel periscoping out until that too provoked a click as it locked into place as well. “Hold this.”

Alec complied nervously.

“Now, when I tell you, I want you to drive the axehead as hard as you can into the tree.”

Alec nodded.

Erebus grimaced, “Then let us begin.” Closing his eyes the necromancer began to chant, placing his palms on the trunk.

Minutes dragged by; it was as if the entire forest was holding its breath, and, going from Von Mori’s tensed form, maybe it was.

Finally there was a noticeable effect. The axe adopting a fiery glow, red, orange and yellow dancing along the cutting edge, next came Holly, despite her earlier bravado, dragged kicking and screaming from her tree. Alec was so shocked that he nearly dropped the axe.

Erebus continued to chant; the words were of no language Alec had ever heard, though he’d be amongst the first to admit he wasn’t exactly well travelled. A faint whisper filled the air, a thousand voices echoing the necromancer until, at last, Holly was fully extricated from her home.

The chant stopped. “Do it now.”

The hatchet swung round and impacted on the bark. In the hands of the young teen it should have barely grazed the wood at such a bad angle; instead, it embedded right to the handle, cracks spread across the trunk, an intricate spiderweb of destruction slowly spreading through the young Holly, then two things happened at once, the tree caught fire and Holly let out a single soul-rending shriek before collapsing to the ground - a puppet with its strings cut.

Silence descended once more, if only for a few moments. Erebus was the first to recover, surveying the pale drawn faces of Von Mori and Alec.

“First time observing a sundering?” he asked the elder dryad.

Von Mori shook her head, “First that I’ve been party to.”

“It doesn’t get any nicer,” Erebus stated before gently placing his hand on Alec’s shoulder. “What about you, are you okay?”

“Uh I- I think so… maybe,” the boy stammered, staggering slightly.

“Evidently not,” the necromancer mused with a slight chuckle. “Can you walk?”

“Yes,” Alec weakly answered before proving himself wrong by losing his balance, propping himself back up on a tree.

“Again; evidently not. Lady Von Mori, I hate to ask but can you carry one of them? I doubt I can manage both.”

“I am no beast of burden necromancer, I may be sworn to give aid but I am not some servant to fetch and carry for you. Now if you’ll excuse me your hunters are upon your trail once more. I will delay them for a time and then consider my oaths fulfilled in this matter, good luck young Erebus.”

The dark mage tried to reply, perhaps protest, but she had already disappeared in a hurricane of leaves. “Always with the dramatic exits,” he grumbled. Then, with a grimace, he tied his staff to his pack and hefted both Holly and Alec — with much protest — over his shoulders and set off at a run. The pair would be rather bruised and sore by the end of it, but, in Erebus’ opinion, it would be a small price for their joint survival.