Earlier, when I’d connected to the mind of one of the sentries, the experience had been both painful and jarring. Now, faced with a mind just as alien but far stronger, I was momentarily overwhelmed as a flood of raw sensations washed over me. Feelings, images, senses that my body couldn’t perceive at all, all jumbled together in an unnatural melange. So powerful was the effect, that I wasn’t even aware of what was happening to my body anymore, completely focused on my mental space.
As the foreign mind slowly cast off the caul of slumber, however, it marshaled its thoughts into some semblance of order. I could detect the exact moment it became aware of me, with it immediately launching a mental probe my way.
??? … !
Raw curiosity gave way to a murky understanding, followed by a sort of excited panic. Its mind hastily reorganized itself into something more regimented, replacing the unguarded sensory stream with something more familiar. Sound. The mind flickered through hundreds of utterances in a single instant, only pausing once it sensed me react to one of them.
Spared from the vast weight of its mind, I was finally able to partially detach from my mental space, relieved to discover that the thorny roots were no longer attempting to puree my entire body. Unsummoning the machete I’d been seconds away from using, I slumped to the ground, exhausted.
Safe. Good. Or that wasn’t entirely true. Even with the battle concluded, I found myself lying in a puddle of my own blood. A puddle which was, unfortunately, still growing at an appreciable pace.
One of this place’s many accursed roots began to slide over to me once more. Thankfully, I watched as it retracted its many thorns, effectively declawing it as it poked at my wounds.
??? has cast Forest’s Renewal on you.
+100hp, 10 Stamina, 5 mana every second for 20 seconds.
The sheer volume of mana within me made my soul feel close to bursting, and I wondered if it was possible to damage me with too powerful a healing spell. Even so, I was practically thrown to my feet by the sheer restorative energy flowing through me. Soon, the only evidence of my previous ordeal was the damage to my gear, with even the blood having sank into the soil.
A weary and dirt-stained Verin shuffled over, thankfully sporting no more than a few cuts and bruises. “Lady Tess. I saw our quest update. The option to claim the heart has been removed? I assume you managed to do something. Is it over, or what still remains?”
With more pressing concerns, I hadn’t read the quest update myself, but I was hardly surprised at the development.
Deciding to leave the explanation to whatever forest entity was speaking into my mind, I answered by gesturing to a clump of roots which was weaving itself together. Though awkward at first, its form slowly refined itself, with various bits of wood thinning and thickening, extending and retracting, until it took on the shape of a man.
If anything, the guise was a tad too convincing, far more realistic than Elphaea’s usual appearance. With long pointed ears and angular features, the wooden body was clearly supposed to be some manner of elf. Complete with a set of robes and a pair of eyes that seemed to be permanently shut, the only thing that separated the body from being perfectly lifelike was its monochromatic, wooden exterior.
The elf sent a hand to his throat, massaging it as he gingerly opened his mouth.
“Test-test-test. Good! That seems to have worked nicely.” He spun about until both Verin and I were firmly in view of his sightless eyes, giving us a shallow bow. “Hello! Thank you two for waking me. I truly slept in this time, didn’t I? Apologies for the poor welcome -- the defenders can be a bit overzealous in my absence. Here.”
You have been granted safe passage through the Wandering Woods! All creatures in the woods will be non-hostile unless attacked. All disorientation and seclusion magic bypassed.
Even as the elf continued to speak, I sagged in relief. We’re not trapped anymore. We can go home. That, in and of itself, was a blessing.
“Now. Flesh-folk have names they give people when meeting them for the first time, isn’t that right? Mmm. At the risk of coming off as frivolous, how about something tree related, yes? You may call me Arbor, ancient heartwood and king of the wandering woods. You were granted some form of quest to get here, it would seem? Curious. Consider it fulfilled.”
Quest Completed!
+2500xp
Access to Arbor, King of the Forest.
This was our so-called king of the forest? Admittedly, I’d kind of gotten that vibe after entering the tree and seeing the heart, but it still managed to surprise me. I hadn’t necessarily assumed he would be human, per se, but I would have expected a nymph or even an actual elf more than I would a full-on tree. It was lucky that he could speak Common in the first place, honestly.
I ignored Verin pulling me into some sort of stiff bow, instead focusing on the more important issues.
This probably means no kitchens or beds anywhere, huh.
If Arbor took offense at my halfhearted bow, he didn’t show it. Instead, whether he’d sensed my disappointment or was otherwise privy to our quest rewards, the king rubbed at his nonexistent facial hair with a grimace.
“Lackluster rewards, hmm. Without you two, I likely would have slept for another few centuries, at the very least. The nymphs tend to grow restless when I leave them be for too long. And… something seems different about the forest? What a conundrum. The last time I saw a flesh-folk was very long ago. I don’t believe I have much that will be suitable to reward you with.”
Even more so than Din’Ket and Tal’Ket, Arbor felt aware in a way that nothing else we’d encountered in the dungeon had been. I almost wanted to ask him if he had a soul or was aware that he was in a dungeon, but that could wait. Morals aside, his musings had me second guessing if I’d made the right choice.
We’re underleveled and stuck here. Not just me, but Verin and Cal, too. Not that I liked to dwell on it, but I knew that we could genuinely die here if we didn’t get strong enough. Had I given up a huge boost to our power with nothing to show for it but goodwill and a clear conscience?
“I could maybe teach a spell or two if either of you practices Life Magic…” He paused, noticing as my ears suddenly perked up. Admittedly, it was nothing the grand magus couldn’t do for us, but with him asleep, it would still be a nice perk. “And, well. Probably not that exciting to you, but I can grow most plant life on command as long as it’s something I’m aware-”
Even with his eyes closed tight, the king of the forest looked alarmed as I rushed him, closing the distance between us with a spatial step. Clamping down on both of his polished shoulders, I brought my face close to his as I donned the most serious, no-nonsense face I could muster.
“Your Highness. I have a list.”
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“And what about pineapples? Do you know what a pineapple is? Or maybe a jackfruit? I don’t actually need to eat either of them, although I guess I would, but I think I heard on the internet that you can make pineapple leather. Do you know fruits that you can turn into leather? Or wait, what the hell am I saying? Cotton. Or what’s linen made from? Is that flax? What even is flax, actually? Maybe let’s stick to cotton. White and fluffy and-”
A gentle hand grabbed my arm, cutting me off with a polite tug. Shifting her eyes from me to King Arbor, Verin tried to communicate something silently, but it went entirely over my head. And besides, whatever it was, it could wait. Did she understand how important this was? I backtracked, trying to remember where I’d left off, before Verin gave my arm a more insistent yank.
“Lady Tess. While it thrills me to no end to hear you speaking this much, might I suggest that we continue this conversation at another time? We do not wish to impose further on His Highness, yes?” She quirked a single brow upwards as if daring me to gainsay her, which I was entirely tempted to do.
Arbor didn’t mind, did he? I fixed the wooden elf with my most winning smile, more genuine than I’d managed in ages, only to realize that the king looked… a bit wilted?
Not that he actually had any leaves coming off of him, but he visibly slouched, somehow looking less solid than he had before. I had the distinct sense that if I pushed my thumb into him hard enough, it would leave an indent.
What’s his problem? We’d only been at it for… Actually, I wasn’t sure. It couldn’t have been that long though, right?
“I think that would be… for the best, yes,” he lethargically agreed, completely spoiling the fun we’d been having. “I’m afraid I’m not used to being awake and actively using my magic like this. I might just take… a brief… nap.” His elven form sank to the ground, propping his back against the still-beating giant heart. Seeming to fight to get each word out, he said his farewells.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“Come back… in a few weeks… for more.” Almost as an afterthought, he managed to append two more words before succumbing to the siren call of slumber: “Bring… stories…”
And with that, all at once, the roots making up his body unwound themselves, leaving the two of us alone in the king’s heart chamber.
Even with how elated I was with my rewards, I couldn’t help but stifle a grumble. Ripoff. I’d only made him grow me, what, like, twenty different plants? What sort of king got tired from twenty plants? Maybe I should have eaten his heart after all.
As if sensing my change of heart, the king somehow managed to make his invitation a bit more formal than a few sleep-laden ramblings. A welcome notification sprung up on my interface.
You have been offered a recurring quest!
A Story for the Somnolent
King Arbor of the Wandering Woods has fallen back asleep, requiring a hearty nap before he can be woken again.
Confined to his tree, the king is ever the fan of stories of the outside world. If you trade the king a story, he’ll be happy to grow you plants or teach you magic until sleep claims him once again.
This is a recurring quest. This quest can be completed once a month.
A whole month! After he’d just finished sleeping for untold centuries? How did we get stuck with the world’s worst narcoleptic running our new dungeon-supplied grocery store?
Well, not the biggest deal. I hadn’t managed to get any new spells from him, but with my Life Magic sitting at level 19, it probably made sense to hit the Apprentice rank before asking him in any case.
And I also got all sorts of ingredients I don’t know how to use. Wouldn’t be surprised if it takes me a few weeks to figure them out, honestly. Actually, what should I even start with?
I was so lost in thought, that I didn’t even register the warm, content looks that Verin was giving me until she spoke.
“Lady Tess. Your smile looks much more natural today. As always, I am glad to see it.”
I froze, sliding a hand up to my face to trace my lips.
I was smiling.
When had that happened? Not that I never smiled, but these days, it was usually during a conversation. A proper reaction to a good joke, or a face to put on when circumstances warranted.
But just while walking around? For myself? How often did that happen?
“Huh. I guess I am.” My mind was pulled back to the many new treats I’d get to make in the upcoming days, and to Verin’s and Cal’s reactions when I did. “I guess I am,” I repeated, more assuredly.
The entire way back to the cabin, I felt a certain lightness to my step.
Cal hadn’t arrived by the time we got there, but that suited me just fine. I needed the time in any case.
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Cooking has reached level 18!
For all that I had more important things to be doing, I spent the week after our forest expedition playing with the various odds and ends I’d made Arbor grow for me. Some small part of me noted that it was a poor use of my time -- the whole point of us challenging the region was to level up until we were ready for the poison biome, after all -- but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Away from Verin’s prying eyes, I experimented in my mountain cave as much as possible.
Now, one might wonder exactly what sort of ingredients took an entire week to get used to. Even with only my single semester of cooking classes to go off of, I wouldn’t need any time to acclimate to your average leafy green, for example. Despite the number of times that I cursed myself for not thinking to ask for this or that, though, I had managed to snag two of the most important plants of all.
The first, to my great joy, was wheat.
Or, at least something wheat adjacent. Even at a glance, it was clear that what I was working with was slightly different from the heavily cultivated wheat I was used to, but I wasn’t complaining. To begin with, I was shocked the king knew about the grain at all, as I was fairly certain it wasn’t a standard forest plant. There was probably a story to be told there, but Arbor had fallen asleep long before I could ask.
The only thing that managed to temper my growing enthusiasm was the realization of just how annoying raw wheat really was. Without any modern tools, I was forced to beat each stalk against a rock, threshing it by hand. While I’d already long since made myself a mortar and pestle for alchemy, grinding all the wheat berries into flour was far more labor intensive than I’d imagined too.
And at the end of all that, I discovered first hand just how little flour all those wheat stalks actually make. It was a ripoff! A scam!
Add that to how much I wasted making the world’s worst yeastless bread (without an oven), and I was sorely tempted to try waking Arbor up early just to score some more.
If the first of the two Grand Ingredients would hopefully become a staple for us eventually, the second wasn’t meant to be eaten on its own. Instead, it was to grant us something that we’d been very, wildly, incredibly, supremely, inordinately lacking: sugar.
Not from the plant I’d been hoping for, admittedly. As strangely knowledgeable as Arbor was about non-forest vegetation, he drew a blank when it came to sugar cane. Sugar beets, on the other hand, were on the menu. Needless to say, I’d grabbed a metric bajillion.
With magic often making up for my new life’s relative lack of technical prowess, it was rare that I truly missed modern conveniences. In fact, in a lot of ways, I was better off. Who needed air conditioning when I could regulate my temperature whenever I wanted? And if I wanted an ice-cold drink from the fridge, I could just conjure it directly in front of me before freezing it with a single spell.
When it came to turning a sugar beet into sugar, however, I had to admit that the internet had its selling points. I was sure there was a way to get pure, solid sugar from the ugly white tubers, but that definitely wasn’t what I ended up with.
Instead, after chopping, boiling, and mashing them, I created a slightly funky brown substance that I was fairly sure counted as molasses. The consistency was off, the taste was weirdly earthy, and it wasn’t half as sweet as pure sugar was, but I didn’t care. It was the sweetest thing I’d tasted in months, and there were still plenty of things I could do with it until I made something better.
While the wheat and the beets were the true winners, that didn’t mean the rest of my produce haul went unappreciated, either. In something of a rarity for me, I worked for a solid week without even considering taking a recovery day. In fact, when I finally stopped trying out new recipes, it was less because I’d grown bored of cooking and more because I’d already run out of most of my new ingredients.
Verin was treated to a few new recipes during this time, but lest Cal accuse us of feasting like queens in her absence, I mostly stored the new dishes in Arcane Storage. It was something of a letdown, then, when she didn’t show up that week at all, forcing me to keep all the food stashed away.
After a full day of resting, I reluctantly returned to my spell training. I didn’t manage to level a single spell school, but that was less because I wasn’t making progress, and more because Cal finally showed up only a few days later.
Despite her penchant for arriving unseen, her return was anything but subtle as the grand figure of Tal’Ket swooped through the skies to drop her off. With an easygoing grin, she hopped from the bird’s back and gave us her most affected, deep bow.
“Miss me?” Forestalling any possible response from Verin, she held a hand up in a warding gesture. “Rhetorical question. I know the answer is yes.”
Verin pursed her lips in what was probably the noble version of a snort, immediately firing back with a retort that ignited their standard bickering.
Before they could get too far -- and before we inevitably traded stories of our time apart -- I cut them off. In this case, my concerns took precedence.
“Hi Cal. Welcome back. I made something.” I ushered them to the table we usually played board games on, feeling that this deserved more than just sitting on the ground. Preempting any speculation, I took out the first component of my greatest success, placing it between us.
“Oh shit. Are those crackers? When did we get wheat?” Not bothering to wait, Cal snatched a few from the stone plate I’d set out, lazily throwing them into her mouth. “Ooh! Herby. Pretty solid. Was this what you wanted to show us? Because it’s good, but I feel like you’ve done better.”
Muttering something about being ungrateful, Verin followed suit, pinching a single cracker from the plate before biting off a single corner. She masked her emotions much better, but I could tell she felt much the same as Cal.
Which made sense, honestly. The crackers weren’t my best work. The herb blend I’d settled on worked really nicely, with a sort of rosemary flavor as the dominant note. Without salt or butter or oil, though, there was only so much I could do.
No, the true reveal was what came next. Reaching into my Arcane Storage, I removed three stone jars with knives already sticking out of them.
With her class change, Cal had sacrificed just about all of her Perception, but the same wasn’t true of Verin. The moment the jars hit the table, she homed in on them, their sweet scent calling out to her.
If Verin had been a touch less proper and not insisted on using the provided knife, she would have been the first to sample the new offerings this time around. As it was, Cal grabbed a cracker and dipped it directly into one of the jars. She munched on it noisily, making no effort to restrain the little squeals of joy she let off.
“Jam! You made jam! Wait, Tess, this is actually really good!” Having said her piece, Cal grabbed another cracker, dipping it into both of the other jars to sample the remaining two flavors at once. She barely even looked guilty as her actions earned her a cry of outrage from Verin, instead greedily licking her lips before going in for another round.
“Lady Calilah, I am aware you do not sleep and are exceptionally skilled at escaping unpleasant situations, but please rest assured that if you finish any of those jars before I even try them, I will find a way to encase you in ice.” Having established her threat, Verin finally made her own opinion known. “This is remarkably good, though. Some flavors I’m failing to parse, but ultimately, they work rather nicely. Is this what you’ve been working on all this time?”
I nodded, treating myself to a few crackers as well.
For all that I’d assumed jam would be easy, I’d actually had a fair bit of trouble getting three batches to turn out all right. Substituting molasses for sugar was already a hurdle, and then figuring how hot and how long to simmer the mixture for also took some trial and error.
Even then, some fruits just worked better than others. It was probably something chemical that I just didn’t understand, but once I’d chilled half jam attempts, they’d jelled into a nice, spreadable consistency. The others were just sugary fruit. I’d had high hopes for some peach jam, but it was one of the worst results of the bunch.
I scooped up a large dollop of the biggest success -- blackberry jam -- and let the pleasant taste wash away the memories of raw rabbit and plain, pan-fried scorpion. To my sides, both Verin and Cal wore expressions of absolute contentment, each of them reaching for another cracker, and then another after that.
Tomorrow, it was back to training, and then we’d all be stuck in a poison jungle after that. But for all that the dungeon put us through hell and back, sometimes there were moments like these, too.
Moments where I got to watch my friends’ faces light up while trying something I’d made them.
And moments where I got to eat some good jam.
Soul Resistance has reached level 13!