The strange woman stood rooted to the floor at the declaration. Her feet disappeared into the wood. For a moment, the life left her eyes, and Jeb stared at the dead eyes of a perfectly carved piece of living wood. Just as he was feeling concerned, the fire returned to her eyes and she took a step, severing the connection to the tree.
Somehow, Jeb knew immediately that it was a different presence inside the wood. Unlike the fiery red eyes that the tree woman had before fading away, these new eyes were a dark and empty void that spoke of endless time spent in painful solitude. Jeb let out a sigh of relief when she turned to focus on the first Druid.
When she opened her mouth, silence resonated out instead of sound. Her mouth closed, she blinked a few times, and the darkness of her eyes faded to a much smaller black. They still drank in the light of the room, but no longer gave Jeb the same sense of fundamental nihilism.
“Do you truly believe that the Archdruid is not interested in ensuring that each Druid is housed in the Circle which is best for them?”
“Unless you’re hiding someone else behind those eyes, it’s just the two of us in here, Nell. You don’t need to pretend with me.”
Her eyes narrowed, and the darkness deepened. With a tone that hushed the remaining sound in the room, she responded, “if you do not believe that the Druidic Enclave is what it claims to be, then why do you remain?”
Jeb heard the locusts before he saw them fly back into the room. They surrounded the man like armor. If she was mad at his comment, he was downright infuriated at her response. As he opened his mouth to retort, he looked over at Jeb.
“We can resolve our own personal grievances another time. I don’t want our new guest to develop an incorrect idea of life in the Enclave.”
“No?” she replied. “Very well then.”
The two stared a little longer, both clearly coming down from whatever conflict they had been about to enter. When the two were calm, both turned to Jeb. The man gestured at the tree as though encouraging her to speak.
“Greetings are conveyed between myself and you, Nature Magic User.” Her voice had taken on a new timbre, sounding almost as though produced by clever artifice, rather than anything organic. “Is understanding possessed of the meaning of the formal set of actions which will have been undergone in order for you to have found the closed loop of uniform radius which you are most aligned to?”
“Um,” Jeb replied hesitantly, “why are you speaking like that?”
“Apologies are in need of conveyance from my lips to your mouth. Nell, myself, has been possessed with minimal reason to interact in the tongue of the people who choose indirectly those who reign over them. The comprehension of your own words is granted to this speaker within this shell by virtue of a Magic from many unnumbered moons ago, and the aged Magic may not be fully efficacious in the present moment in comparison with its initial creation.”
“You were speaking it fine just a moment ago, though,” Jeb protested.
She furrowed her brow in confusion. Jeb was momentarily struck by how skin-like the bark was. When animated, it truly seemed to move exactly as his own skin did.
“You can understand me?” she asked, tone filled with disbelief.
“Yes?” Jeb replied, unsure why her cadence suddenly seemed natural again.
“Where were you given knowledge of-” whatever word she said did not register with Jeb. He felt a momentary spike of pain in his temple as the conflicting terms of “the language”, “the tongue”, “Druidic”, and at least half a dozen other phrases all battled for dominance.
When the pain receded, Jeb’s memory assured him that she had said “Druidic.”
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“I don’t know Druidic,” Jeb replied. “The only language that I have ever been taught is Republican Standard.”
“You jest!” she yelled, letting out a sound like bird call. It took Jeb a moment to realize that she was laughing.
Her laughter cut off suddenly and she turned to the Druid of Swarms. “I am sure that you have no further objections to calling the Archdruid?”
The locusts returned. “Absolutely.”
The two Druids quickly rushed out of a newly formed door in the room, and Jeb followed. Unlike the circuitous route that Jeb had taken to the first meeting room, this route was a direct path to a bare stone. Looking further, Jeb realized that it was a cliff. The clearing hung over a deep chasm, and Jeb could hear water rushing somewhere below.
The two Druids wasted no time. Vines and roots snaked out as insects started tracing intricate patterns in the air. The bare rock face seemed to reject the working, and Jeb saw strain grow on the Druids’ faces. As each root died and withered, another took its place.
Just as the two Druids seemed ready to abandon their attempt, a bolt of lightning shot down from the still-clear sky. It landed in the middle of the stone, arcing and tracing a complementary pattern to those already being worked. As thunder rumbled, Jeb saw another Druid arrive. Her hair floated behind and around her, haloing a face that flashed in time with the lightning. When the lightning faded, also deadened by the space, another bolt struck.
Sunshine started to collect on the space as though focused by a series of lenses. It seemed to strengthen the roots, which took longer to die. More and more Magical effects started drawing arcane patterns over and through the stone as Druids continued to appear. Finally, when the sun had fallen and the moon stood directly overhead, moonlight poured down onto the stone as though a liquid.
It stabilized the effects on the stone, and Jeb felt the tension in the space dissipate. Surrounded by the leaders of different Circles, Jeb was reminded of the way that reality was anchored by the presence of High Tiered individuals. The rest of the leaders turned to the two who had led him there.
“Why did you summon the Circle of Elders?” the Stormcaller asked. Her robes had tracing embroideries of arcing white. As she moved, the embroidery seemed to move across the fabric, creating new and shifting patterns on the fabric.
“The Archdruid was not to be called until the solstice,” two Druids incanted in unison. One wore a blinding white robe, and the other wore a deep black robe. As Jeb watched, the brightness on the first robe started moving slowly onto the dark robe. The darkness took its place.
Jeb had the feeling that these two Druids were associated with the moon. They seemed to have some authority within the Circle of Elders, if the way that the rest of the crowd fell silent at their words was any indication. Just as he was beginning to feel relieved that no one was focusing on him, a deep growling voice called him out.
“What is the Outsider doing in the Circle?” he demanded. Looking at the speaker, Jeb was reminded of Professor Bearson. Where Bearson had been civilized with an underlying edge of wildness, however, this Druid was the reverse. He stood head and shoulders above most of the other Druids, built like the strongest of laborers Jeb had ever known. Thick hair covered his body.
When Jeb’s eyes finally focused on his face, he leapt back in surprise. His face was equally covered in hair, and his nose flared out almost like a horses. Beady black eyes looked at Jeb, and circular ears stood on top of his head. Jeb had the sudden realization that he had never seen Professor Bearson’s face.
The other Druids did not react at the sight of the speaker, and Jeb had to assume there was a reason for that. He looked at the Druid of Trees, who spoke in a calming tone.
“The Seeker speaks Druidic,” she said, and Jeb once again felt a spike of pain as his mind debated what word she was using. This usage had a different connotation than what she had said before, though he was unable to figure out what shade of meaning had changed. “Even were that not true, the Archdruid has a responsibility to meet with every new Seeker. The fact that this one has entered his Trial before the solstice is not a reason to deny him.”
“I personally do not see the need to run a complete Trial,” the Swarming Druid added. “The Seeker is already Bound to a Swarm. However, the fact that he Speaks is still sufficient reason to call the Archdruid.”
Jeb heard someone scoff. Turning to the speaker, Jeb saw someone with robes that seemed to match his own. Stars danced across the fabric and onto their exposed skin.
“His own robe speaks of his connection to the Stars,” she said, which seemed to open the floodgates to the rest of the Circle. Voices piled on top of each other as each Druid tried to make their opinion known, and Jeb felt every force of nature wash over him as the leaders analyzed him. Magical effects started to crowd the platform again as tempers began to flare. Just as he was about to fear for his own safety in the high Magic environment, the effects disappeared.
In their place, an absolute silence reigned. A figure with a staff that radiated age was suddenly standing in the middle of the stone. Jeb found that he could not bear to look directly at the Archdruid. The Druids around him were just as cowed. For a moment, all of their pretenses were stripped away. They were nothing more than mortals who had been given power over their peers. The Archdruid was truly something greater.