I leaned back into the tree with Witness resting beside me, and sighed. I’m not detecting any hostility so I guess it’s fine to let them approach. But I wonder what they’re doing all the way out here? I’m no expert, but I doubt this place is anywhere near a road, and that means their circumstances must be pretty… unique?

The small fire in front of me popped as a few of the blackened sticks slumped and toppled in on themselves. I held way back, but that didn’t stop them from being completely torched by my spell so I’ll probably have to add more in a minute or two.

More concerning, however, was the fact that my guests were taking so long. They were only a dozen or so feet from me at this point, but I hadn’t heard any rustling, and since I could tell that they had stopped moving, that meant they were likely observing me from the shadows, and probably plotting something too.

And still no hostility? Man, this is just too much! How can I not take the bait?

I rolled my shoulders, wrapped a few fingers around Witness just to be safe, and allowed my head to loll to the side I felt they were currently on. I barely contained my smile, and called out softly, since there was no need to yell for them to hear me. “I’m sure you must be cold and tired, wandering around out here at this hour. Why don’t you come over and have a seat? I can make the fire bigger, and you can warm up while I fix something to eat.”

Nothing.

And I do mean nothing.

Not. A. Sound.

Well, save for the palpable tension that became so thick that I was afraid that it was now holding those poor lost souls in their places, away from the warmth of my cozy little fire. I didn’t consider it, but there is a chance they can’t understand me. Crap. That would be awkward.

So I decided to give them a push.

Just a little one, yaknow? A tiny touch of mana to make the branches part and the roots nudge them forward.

Thankfully, that got them moving.

All six of them.

The two men in front were the tallest and in chainmail with swords and small shields in hand, while the middle pair were in long hooded cloaks that obscured everything other than their 4 foot stature, and the two in the back were slightly taller and wore light clothing. The man on the left was dressed in leather armor with a bow, and the other, the woman on the right, was clad in tattered finery, jewelry, silk robes, and the like–all covered in esoteric runes and patterns. All in all, they were something straight out of a generic fantasy. Though after everything I’ve been through over the last few days, I’m not as excited as I thought I’d be. Oh well, at least I get to meet new people! Hopefully friendly ones!

Understandably, they were unsteady on their feet, and doubtlessly wary, both of me and the vegetation that suddenly prodded them into action, so it was no surprise that they maintained a tight formation where the four taller ones surrounded the two short, hooded, and totally vulnerable looking members of their group.

But still no response, huh? Fine. Fine. Guess I’ll try to welcome them with my actions. Maybe that’ll get the point across!

I released my smile from its restraints and beckoned them over. “Come! Come! Sit! Sit! I won’t hurt you, though I am a little curious who you are, and how you came to be so far out in the wilderness.”

They loitered for another moment so I made good on my offer and got to work getting some food out of my pack and using Witness to gather more sticks to sustain and enlarge the fire. Yeah, yeah, I know! Using nature to burn nature is a bit insensitive, but people cremate dead people all the time, so how is this any different?

At last, the shorter of the two armored gentlemen in the front asked. “Master druid, we are grateful for your offer, but until we know which garden you are affiliated with, I’m afraid we must decline.”

I tilted my head. Hey! They can understand me! But what’s this about a garden? And who’s a druid? Not me! Then Uriel buzzed.

Notice: Gardens are the name for groups of druids, the reclusive users of mind over nature magic. While some are harmless, others reject outsiders, and some even sacrifice them in their rituals.

They derive the name of their groups from the Garden of Creation.

Ooof… Well, at least I know now. I stopped my preparations, and shook my head. “There’s no need to fear, I’m not affiliated with any garden, and besides, I’m not a druid.”

One of the two hooded fellows stepped back and muttered in a high pitched voice. “What?”

And the mage looking lady held the back of her hand to her mouth. “I beg your pardon?”

Then the shorter armored dude continued. “You… you aren’t a druid? But you just… ?”

I shrugged. “Just a little trick, that’s all.” I then poured a little more mana into Witness, and conjured six pillars of roots placed evenly around the now fortified fire, and then I shaped those pillars into ergonomic chairs. I bet they’ll be surprised at how comfortable they are!

The mage lady gawked, then fixed me with a pointed look. “Heavens! What is this if not Druidism?”

“Hey, I’m just trying to be hospitable. No offense, but you guys kinda look like you could use it.” I held out bits of grandour jerky, dried fruits that were thankfully not the spicy-bitter goga, and small, newly formed, cups of water that I forged and filled with the aid of the nearby trees and their internal water stores. “I’m more than happy to let you get some rest here, but the choice is yours. Will you stay? Or will you go?”

Consternation crossed the faces of the four I could see, and they deliberated in sometimes harsh whispers with one of the two hooded ones. At first I couldn’t understand what they were saying, both because it was quiet, but also because it was in an entirely different language.

Then, right on cue, Uriel buzzed like crazy, and the system spoke.

I leaned back against the tree, and listened.

The one hooded figure that reacted to my words before stomped their foot. “Your bickering is getting us nowhere! You are supposed to be our protectors, but every second we waste is a second not spent helping my brother! So decide! Now!”

Oh? That’s a rather large bomb to drop right away. And now that I look, the other hooded figure is sorta… wobbly.

The taller guard clenched his armored fists. “Apologies milady, I know you are both weary, but how can we trust this… person? They do not show their face, and deny being a druid despite clearly being one!”

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

The mage lady nodded. “I agree! There’s nothing savory about this at all, for if their claims are true, and they aren’t a druid, then what are they? A spy? An assassin?”

The hunter-like man shook his head and spoke for the first time. “I doubt they’re an assassin. After all, I can’t detect any hostility, traps, or poison, and given the power they’ve displayed, they could likely overwhelm us with the nearby trees at any point, and that’s not considering the fact that they had the drop on us, and decided to invite us over instead.”

Did… did he just admit that I have the advantage… When I’m literally ten feet away?

The group’s frowns only grew, and since it didn’t look like they were getting anywhere I spoke in their tongue. “Since you’re worried about my identity, my name is Anon Amos. I’m… well I’ve been a wanderer for as long as I can remember, and I really don’t mean you any harm. Heck! I might even be able to help with whatever that young man is suffering from.”

Obviously, they froze.

After all, who wouldn’t when the remarks they were making about someone in earshot are suddenly revealed to be in a language they can understand.

To my surprise, however, the vocal hooded person stepped forward, and squeaked up first. “You’ll… You’ll help us? Truly?”

I pulled back my hood and offered the most genuine and sympathetic smile I could muster. “I don’t know your circumstances, but you don’t seem like bad people. Stressed, maybe, but not bad. And that’s all the reason I really need.”

While the others gasped, presumably at my hideous face, she too pulled back her hood to reveal a cute girl, no older than thirteen with tanned skin. Her hair was strikingly blonde, and woven into a wide braid that disappeared behind her back, though the most noticeable things were the round tiger ears atop her head, and the long whiskers that sprouted from her cheeks.

Then the taller guard sheathed his weapon, stepped forward to half-block my view of her, and bowed. “Sir Anon, forgive our rudeness. May I present Annabelle and Mitchell, the beloved children of a relatively influential merchant.” He raised his head, and placed a hand over his heart. “You see, we were traveling with a caravan when bandits attacked. The heir was struck by a curse sent from the magus leading them, and we only barely managed to escape with our lives.”

Oh that’s just terrible!

Uriel buzzed,

Notice: Lies detected.

and I was so shocked at this alert that I muttered. “Lies?”

The somewhat calmer air was tense again in an instant. The weapons that had only just been sheathed were drawn again, and the mage lady started chanting, but the girl presumably named ‘Anabelle’ shouted. “Stop it! Don’t hurt her!”

The four fighters halted, perhaps aware that I hadn’t even moved, and the mage instead turned her attention to the hooded young ‘Mitchell’ who tipped over after wobbling even more than usual.

I kept my eyes on the ill boy and sighed in relief. Glad that’s over with. Though what the heck’s going on? One calls me sir, the other her? I’m pretty sure I’ve always been a–

The mage lady screamed. “He’s stopped breathing!”

Oh… Crap! What should I do? Body recovery magic? Light essence magic? Or should I try out that new ??? Protection ability I got after taking out that demon? And wait… What’s that tiger girl doing? It looks dangerous!

#

‘Anabelle’ plodded through the dark forest in the tracks of ‘Colbert’ and ‘Hence’ with ‘Norman’ and ‘Nadia’ guarding the rear.

Her task was simple. Follow directions, stay away from danger, but most importantly, survive. Because if something happened to her, the one physically and magically supporting ‘Mitchell’, then everything that they had gone through, all the pain they’d endured during their impromptu flight from her father’s lands, and all the effort she’d put into remembering the stupid cover story and aliases they’d been given, would be for nothing.

And just when she felt like her feet, and shoulder, couldn’t take anymore, ‘Colbert’ stopped them and whispered. “I see a campfire.”

‘Norman’ nodded and used his abilities to up the level of their camouflage, while ‘Nadia’ used air essence magic to silence their breathing and movements.

And there they saw a single hooded figure, leaned against a tree, sat in front of a small fire, utterly unmoving.

Her four protectors used hand signals to debate their next course of action. She didn’t know their meanings, but from some of the gestures she guessed that most of the choices were far from friendly.

It’s regrettable, but that’s the kind of situation we’re in. She lowered her eyes to the ground. I just wish I knew why Father sent us away so suddenly. I thought ‘Mitchell’ came to us to recover? But how is he to do that out here, when I can only stall his death by maintaining ‘rejuvenation’? She grimaced. I guess there’s still that one spell, but I really shouldn’t. Not yet. That’s for an emergency.

Then the person called out to them in the Nostrian language, one she only barely knew, but managed to decipher it as an invitation to rest.

However, her escort made no move to accept. In fact, their silent debate only became more frantic. She knew that ‘Nadia’ and ‘Hence’ understood Nostrian better than her, but until they could get ‘Colbert’, their leader, to understand their gestures they’d be at an impasse.

And then the forest suddenly ejected them from their hiding spot, in a surprisingly gentle manner.

Her heart raced as her guardians drew their weapons and readied for battle, but the seated figure made no move to fight, and again invited them to sit and rest. At least I think that’s what they said.

Then a wave of wonder and fear overtook her as a pulse of deep and pure mana raced outward from the mysterious person and brought the forest to life once again. Her mana sense revealed that it had enough energy to let the roots and vines string them all up, only it was instead used to gather fallen sticks to feed and enlarge the fire.

She glanced back, and from the subtle shifts in ‘Nadia’ and ‘Norman’s’ postures they must’ve sensed the clarity of that mana too. Is Father’s personal magus even anywhere close to being this mighty?

But her awe was overwritten by disappointment as ‘Hence’ declined the clearly powerful druid’s offer yet again, but she couldn’t stop a surprised “What?” from escaping when the strange hermit denied being a druid.

Then, as if to mock them and that very claim, they again unleashed that immense mana to craft six chairs from roots that emerged from the earth around the fire.

She tuned out all else around her as she became utterly fascinated with this force that could freely manipulate the world around them, and the fact that the one who possessed this magic used it to craft and fill cups to accommodate them, rather than fight or dominate. No magus I’ve ever met can do magic without chanting, and none of them can bear the mental strain that comes with moving so many different components. But they look… Unfazed.

In the magic of the moment she noticed that ‘Mitchell’ wasn’t leaning on her anymore. And through the gloom, her keen tiger eyes detected an almost peaceful look on his face.

Though he wavered from moment to moment, he was upright for the first time since he arrived at her family’s estate, and if what her father said was true, then he’d been suffering for even longer than that too.

A debate to decide what to do began, and her heart ached alongside her feet as her protectors leaned away from letting them rest anywhere near this enigmatic magus.

“Since you’re worried about my identity, my name is Anon Amos. I’m… well I’ve been a wanderer for as long as I can remember, and I really don’t mean you any harm. Heck! I might even be able to help with whatever that young man is suffering from.”

Her eyes opened wide and her mind went blank. Both because Anon understood their language, and because such an unearthly beautiful woman would offer to heal ‘Mitchell’ when they’d only just met and had their kindness rejected repeatedly.

I can’t believe that a completely white Torathan exists! Father said they were only fairy tales, that albinos of our kind are the closest thing to making that fantasy reality, but here one is! Right in front of me! This has to be fate!

‘Colbert’ recited their practiced story, rudely calling her ‘sir’ but as soon as he’d finished Anon muttered. “Lies?”

Lies?! She knows we’re lying?! I should’ve stopped him! The stories say a white Torathan’s eyes see through all! It must be true!

She screamed with all her might. “Stop it! Don’t hurt her!”

Because we’ll be the ones hurt if this becomes a fight! And I don’t need to rely on legends to know that!

And just as things were starting to calm again, and it looked like she’d finally get to sit down and rest, ‘Nadia’ caught ‘Mitchell’ as he tumbled, and yelled. “He’s stopped breathing!”

‘Anabelle’ shut her eyes, slumped to her knees, and mustered all the mana she had left to start casting the ‘oblation’ spell her old mentor had only taught her after years of begging, and only after stating a million times that she should never try to cast it. I guess this is where I die.