Chapter Eleven

Mister Greeny watched his little one with quiet, emerald eyes. She walked aimlessly through the forest, trying her best to remain quiet but still sounding like a herd of cattle tromping through the trees. He found it amusing but still a little concerning. If she wanted to survive in the forest by herself, without him watching over her, she needed to be able to become a ghost amongst the trees.

He was prepared to unveil a world of knowledge to her, things he believed were crucial for her survival. His magic, ancient and potent, was just the beginning. In the years since his awakening, he had observed numerous villages, including her own, from the safety of the trees, absorbing their skills and secrets.

At first, his observations were driven by pure curiosity. The creatures of this vibrant new world were a stark contrast to the simple beasts he had overseen in the past. They were a captivating sight, displaying intelligence, ingenuity, and a penchant for creating beautiful works of art that he found endlessly fascinating. But as he delved deeper into their lives and culture, he began to appreciate their unique, individual qualities.

He learned everything he could from watching them in preparation for this day.

He padded after her, his paws making no sound and his body flowing like liquid through the trees. He had taken the form of a wolf, and although it wasn’t as imposing as the bear or as frightening as the wyrm, it was still one of his favorites. It was smaller but nimble and much less intimidating than the other forms he could take, other than the man, but he still avoided taking that shape if he could.

It made him uncomfortable.

He waited until his little one stopped to rest. She fumbled with her pack, the dull, metal clasp catching on something and refusing to release. A string of curses spilled from her mouth, causing him to pause in his steps as he approached her unseen. He decided to wait until she had a moment to collect herself, knowing better than to approach her when she was so obviously angry.

One of the many things he had learned over the years.

He waited patiently, directly in front of her, only two dozen feet away. He wasn’t trying to hide himself; he was entirely out in the open, but the little one was still oblivious to his presence. Fortunately, he had thoroughly cleared the forest around the village ; she wouldn’t have survived for long if he hadn’t.

Mister Greeny sighed silently before he purposefully stepped on a thick twig next to him. The resulting crack caused the little one’s eyes to snap to him, going wide as she finally realized she wasn’t alone.

“H—hello,” She stammered , pressing her body tightly against the tree behind her. He could tell she was frightened but was pleased she hadn’t immediately run away.

Hello. He replied in his grating, whooshing voice. It is good to see you again, little one.

Her eyes went wide in recognition. “Mister… Greeny?” She took a timid step away from the safety of the tree behind her. “You look… different.”

The uncertainty in her voice was plain to hear, prompting him to morph into a form she was more familiar with. It was something he should have done to begin with, but he held a small hope that he wouldn’t have to. His body squirmed as the thick vines slithered and shifted ; the sounds of groaning wood and flexing timber like a gale blowing through the trees filled the space between them. For a moment, he was a formless wall of living vegetation . Then , with a sudden and violent crack, everything snapped into place.

He stood before her on two legs, splaying roots in the place of toes and feet. His arms were thin but strong and hung loosely to his side like gently swaying branches , resembling a weeping willow. He looked at her with softly glowing eyes, the emerald light giving his featureless face an uncanny feeling that would make anyone uneasy. The vines shifting as he smiled at her only made it worse.

You must be tired, little one , Mister Greeny said as he held out his hand. The vines twirled into a crooked stem, and an ice-blue flower with small, oval petals bloomed from it as it turned to face Nia. Take this ; it will replenish you. We have some way to go before we can begin.

Nia looked from the pretty flower into his dimly glowing eyes. She had come into the forest, run away from her home and loving parents, to find Mister Greeny, but now she was suddenly very apprehensive. Her childhood memories showed her a beautiful, magnificent, magical spirit, covered in blooming flowers like a spring meadow and with a kind, gentle face smiling down at her. But what her eyes showed her was vastly different.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

There were no blooming flowers, only twisted vines in muted greens and browns knotted together, creating something only passably person-shaped. His arms and legs had no joints and curved unnaturally in odd directions that caused her skin to prickle when she thought about them. His torso was much too wide and long in proportion to the rest of his body, making him look like a poorly made wooden puppet.

But the worst part of him was his face. It was a featureless mass of wood; only a small bump was where his nose should have been, with two deeply recessed eye-sockets above it and eerie emerald light shining from them.

She didn’t reach out to take the offered flower. “I—I’m sorry. I think I made a mistake.”

Forgive me if I frightened you , Mister Greeny said after a moment as he lowered his proffered arm, closing his willowy fist around the ice-blue flower and reabsorbing the magic used to create it. The fear she felt was evident in her eyes. It was something that caused a lance of pain to spear his core, along with an overwhelming sense of sadness. It pains me that I have.

She flinched at his rough and raspy words . They were grating to her ears and almost painful to listen to, another thing her childish memories had painted in a different light, but the hurt carried in their familiar tone caused her to pause. On the surface, the being in front of her was alien and unknown, terrifying because it was so different from her. But she was different too, distinct from the villagers and her parents, not as drastically as her and the being, but still different all the same.

She knew what it was like to be shunned.

“I— didn’t mean… to hurt you.” Her voice was soft and remorseful, “I was only surprised, that’s all.”

I understand, he said, stepping away from her and nodding . Perhaps you need more time before you are ready.

“Ready for what?” Nia asked. She felt slightly more comfortable now that she had a chance to think. Her heart had gone from a thunderous staccato to something much more closely resembling a normal heartbeat.

To learn.

The quick reply was almost lost to her, blending in with the sounds of the forest around them and the blood rushing in her ears. “To learn? What am I supposed to learn?”

Whatever you wish. He told her, or nothing at all, that is up to you.

His unblinking eyes continued to stare at her, watching as she bit her bottom lip in thought. He was patient. He would give her as much time as needed to think about his words. He had waited this long; a bit longer was nothing.

“Do you know who my parents are?” She asked finally. “My real parents.”

Her face was hopeful but apprehensive, and her eyes had trouble looking into his.

I only know that they gave their lives for yours. He admitted to her with as much empathy as he could. He had learned many things over the years, including what bandits were. He didn’t know how she would feel about her birthparents’ origins but thought it best to leave that discussion for another time.

Her shoulders slumped, and she let out a long, resigned sigh. “So, they’re dead.” She whispered to herself before looking up at him, her eyes wet with emotion. “What were their names? Do you know?”

Your father’s name was Victor. He shook his head slowly, but I did not know your mother’s name. I am sorry.

Nia nodded to herself, wiping her hand at the corner of her eyes. “Did they— did they love me?”

Mister Greeny paused for a breath, not knowing how to respond to such a question. He didn’t know if her father loved her; he had observed him for a short time and only saw the man’s quick temper and propensity for violence. He didn’t think the man had the capacity for anything more. On the other hand, her mother obviously loved her to some degree; she wouldn’t have wasted time retrieving her from the tent if she hadn’t. Still, he didn’t know for sure.

They did, he lied. Very much so.

He didn’t feel any guilt for lying to her. It was what she needed to hear; the truth would only hurt her, and he would do anything to prevent that from happening. If you are willing, I can show you the place I have prepared for you. If not, I will lead you back to your village; either way, I will answer any questions you have along the way.