As the airship drifted closer to the vast, emerald expanse on the horizon, Eugene's eyes widened in awe. The sheer enormity of the towering forest was unlike anything he'd ever seen. Krungus, standing by the railing with an air of smug familiarity, gestured grandly toward the approaching treetops.
"Ah, the Forest of Consideration!" he declared, his voice filled with nostalgia.
Qlaark, seated nearby with his usual meticulous posture, glanced up from his book and corrected him without hesitation. "It’s not called that anymore, Krungus. It’s now known as the Consideration Tree Museum."
Krungus's brow furrowed. "Museum? What do you mean, museum? It's a forest. A living, breathing—"
"A preserved historical site," Qlaark interrupted, flicking through a few pages. "It houses the largest trees anyone has ever recorded. They’re a protected wonder now, not just some stretch of wild growth."
Eugene absorbed their conversation, the pieces of a much larger puzzle slowly fitting together in his mind. It was becoming clearer by the moment—people in the city had no real grasp of what lay beyond their borders. And Krungus, despite his bravado, seemed just as lost. His time in imprisonment had left him disconnected from a world that had moved on without him. Nine thousand years ago, information about distant lands had been scarce, trickling through in fragments and half-truths. What little Krungus and his kind had known about outside forces was ancient history now.
As the ship sailed closer, the trees came into clearer view. Eugene's mind instinctively compared them to the great sequoias of California—except these were far larger, their trunks stretching skyward like colossal pillars supporting the heavens. The leaves shimmered an ethereal blue, their shapes reminiscent of oversized clovers, delicate yet immense.
The airship's shadow passed beneath the sprawling canopies, plunging them into a surreal twilight. It was a strange, almost otherworldly sensation, flying within the forest itself, as if they had entered the domain of giants. Eugene pressed his face to the window, mesmerized by the labyrinth of intertwining branches and the way the sunlight dappled through them in shimmering patches of indigo and emerald.
"It's like another world down there," he murmured.
Krungus leaned against the railing, his eyes reflecting a mix of wonder and frustration. "It used to be... But I suppose even the wildest places get tamed eventually."
Qlaark smirked. "Well, not entirely. There are still sections of the Consideration Tree Museum that are off-limits. No one really knows what’s in the deepest parts.
The airship glided smoothly through the vast expanse of the Consideration Tree Museum, heading straight for the off-limits area. The towering blue-leafed giants loomed beneath them, their canopies so thick that barely any light filtered through to the forest floor. The ship hummed with quiet energy as Krungus guided it effortlessly above the restricted zone, a smug look of defiance on his face.
"We're not exactly being subtle, are we?" Eugene muttered, peering down over the edge of the ship.
"Subtlety is for burglars and cowards," Krungus replied, waving a hand dismissively. "I, at least, am a wizard. We descend in style."
With a flick of his staff, the airship came to a hovering stop high above the ground. The trees stretched far below them, their colossal trunks disappearing into the misty undergrowth.
"Uh, Krungus?" Qlaark eyed the massive drop below. "We can't exactly use the stairs from up here."
"Details, details," Krungus muttered, already preparing his next spell. He raised his staff and muttered an incantation under his breath. A shimmering aura enveloped them, a faint weightlessness tugging at Eugene's limbs. "There. A nice, reliable slow fall spell. You'll land as gently as a feather in a breeze."
Eugene swallowed hard. "And if your spell wears off halfway down?"
Krungus smirked. "Then you’ll provide me with an amusing memory."
"Great. Just what I needed—wizard sarcasm," Eugene grumbled before stepping over the edge.
The three of them floated down slowly, drifting like leaves toward the dense forest floor. As they descended, Eugene got a better look at their destination.
At first, he thought they were entering some kind of eerie meadow nestled within the forest, but as they got closer, he realized it wasn’t foliage that stretched out before them—it was rows upon rows of colossal headstones. Towering monuments of stone, weathered and covered in intricate carvings, extended as far as the eye could see. Some were cracked, others completely intact, but all of them bore inscriptions in a language he didn’t recognize.
Krungus landed with an air of certainty, sweeping his staff around dramatically. "Ah, the ruins of Grzft! Named after the last great giant chieftain who ruled these lands with an iron fist, maintaining the balance between the great clans. A noble giant indeed."
Qlaark squawked. "Uh... no, Krungus. Grzft was a goblin necromancer."
Krungus stopped mid-gesture. "What?"
Qlaark adjusted his feathers. "Yeah. A sneaky little goblin who got caught trying to dig up some of these bones to raise an army. They obliterated him on the spot. The 'ruins' part is just a joke because, well, he's buried here now. Forever."
Eugene raised an eyebrow. "Wait, so this place isn't, like, some grand resting ground for giants?"
"Oh, it is," Qlaark said with a nod. "Giants were much loved, especially when they were easy to find. Raising them as undead is about as sacrilegious as it gets. No one's allowed to touch this place. That's why it’s off-limits."
Krungus cleared his throat and adjusted his robes. "Ah. Well... that does change the tone a bit."
Eugene chuckled. "You were so confident there for a second."
"I'm confident in many things, Eugene," Krungus huffed, tapping his staff against one of the colossal headstones. "History I learned millenia ago just isn't always one of them."
As they continued walking through the massive graveyard, the thick mist curling around their ankles, an eerie silence settled over the group. The towering headstones felt oppressive, as if they were being watched by the very spirits they were meant to commemorate.
Qlaark glanced around nervously. "I don't like this place. It feels... wrong."
Krungus nodded solemnly. "The weight of forgotten history tends to have that effect. But we’re here for the Pachyrin, and I have no doubt he’ll show himself soon enough. He’s not the type to ignore trespassers."
There was a rustling off in the distance followed by a snorting noise, ferns blocking our view of whatever it was.
Eugene glanced at the towering stone markers again. "Yeah, but what if something else is here too?"
A giant boar, ancient and colossal, burst forth from the ferns in between the towering gravestones. Its thick hide was covered in patches of red moss, giving it an almost otherworldly appearance. Gnarled tusks jutted out from its mouth, each one as long as Eugene's arm. Its eyes burned with a glowing passion, a rage.
“Time to shine, sugar,” Cozimia’s voice purred in Eugene’s mind. “Try not to blow it to bits, though. I could go for some roast pork later.”
Eugene barely had time to process the thought before Krungus shoved him behind one of the massive tree trunks. "Stay out of the way if you don't want to be gored, lad!" the wizard barked.
Qlaark flapped up onto a low-hanging branch, feathers ruffled. “I—I think it saw us before we saw it.”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
The beast let out a deafening bellow, scraping one massive hoof against the earth, tearing up chunks of moss and soil as it prepared for another charge.
Eugene’s hands hovered over the lantern at his hip, feeling the weight of the power inside. He swallowed hard, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. “Alright, alright… precision, not destruction. No problem.” He whispered, trying to psych himself up.
Krungus peeked out from behind the tree, his eyes narrowing. “It’s old. Very old. Likely guarding something… or being controlled.”
Before anyone could act, the mist around them thickened, curling unnaturally around the trees like it was alive. A figure emerged slowly, stepping through the fog with an air of authority.
B'doom.
The druid appeared, wrapped in layers of wild, tattered robes woven with vines and bits of bark. His dark green skin was streaked with natural markings, and his long beard seemed to blend seamlessly with the surrounding foliage. In one hand, he held a staff crafted from twisted roots, and his eyes gleamed with an unsettling mix of wisdom and caution.
The boar, snorting heavily and preparing to charge again, suddenly stilled as B'doom approached. With a gentle touch to its forehead, the massive creature grunted in recognition and knelt slightly, eyes losing their feral glow.
“Easy now, old friend,” B'doom murmured in a deep, gravelly voice that seemed to carry through the entire grove. “You’ve done your duty.”
The druid turned his attention to Krungus, Eugene, and Qlaark, his expression unreadable. “You tread upon sacred ground, wizard.” His gaze flickered to Eugene. “And you… you wield something that does not belong here.”
Eugene swallowed hard, instinctively tightening his grip on the lantern. “I, uh… wasn’t planning on using it. I mean, maybe a little.”
B’doom’s lips twitched into something that might have been a smirk. “Intentions rarely survive the chaos of the moment.”
Krungus stepped forward, brushing off his robes. “We’re here for you, B’doom. Not to stir up trouble.”
“Well, it's a good thing I got here, then, before you might have been tempted to. Who knows what could’ve happened.” It looked like B’doom was smiling at Krungus, but between the beard and the trunk it was extremely hard to tell.
Without hesitation, Krungus strode forward, ignoring the towering presence of B’doom and the tense atmosphere that had settled over the group. Before B’doom could utter another word, Krungus wrapped his arms around the druid’s massive torso and hugged him tightly.
For a moment, there was only the sound of the rustling forest and the faint snorting of the colossal boar. Eugene and Qlaark exchanged bewildered glances, neither of them expecting this reaction from the gruff old wizard.
B’doom stiffened at first, his muscles tensing under Krungus’ grip, but then, slowly, he let out a long exhale. His broad, bark-textured hands hovered awkwardly before settling lightly on Krungus’ back, returning the embrace with a gentleness unexpected from someone so massive.
“You… have never hugged me before,” B'doom rumbled, his voice resonating deep like the creaking of old wood. “Why now?”
Krungus pulled back slightly, looking up at his old friend with an expression both weary and resolute. “Because I should have,” he said simply, patting B’doom’s side like an old friend reunited after lifetimes apart. “And because I need you.”
B’doom arched a mossy brow. “To do what?”
Krungus grinned, though there was a touch of solemnity behind it. “Get the Gardens going again. We need you back in the City. Things... aren't what they used to be.”
The Pachyrin studied him for a long moment, his piercing eyes reading something in Krungus that Eugene couldn’t quite discern. Then, with a deep, grounding sigh, B'doom gave a slow nod. “My work here was completed years ago. I have simply... lingered.” His gaze swept over the towering gravestones, a distant sadness in his voice. “I had no reason to leave. Until now.”
Krungus clapped him on the arm. “Good. No more moping around in graveyards. The City needs you.”
Eugene, still processing the bizarre emotional moment, leaned over to Qlaark. “So... is this how powerful wizards recruit people? Hugging them into submission?”
Qlaark shrugged. “I honestly didn’t expect this. Thought there’d be more lightning bolts or something.”
Krungus shot them both a withering glare over his shoulder. “You’d be surprised what a hug can do, Eugene. More powerful than fireballs. Sometimes.”
B’doom gave a low chuckle, an ancient, earthy sound. “Let’s see if your City is still worth tending.”
----------------------------------------
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows through the towering blue-clovered canopy, the airship settled gently in the non-restricted part of the forest. The rhythmic hum of its arcane engine faded into a soft purr, leaving the forest in a serene, eerie silence. Fireflies flitted through the trees, their glow barely enough to illuminate the mist curling around the enormous roots of the towering trees.
Inside the ship, the atmosphere was anything but serene.
B'doom, sitting cross-legged on the floor near the central table, stared at Krungus with an expression caught somewhere between amusement and deep concern. His massive hands rested on his knees, and his eyes, reflecting the dim glow of the enchanted lanterns, studied his old friend with a weight that felt almost paternal. “So,” B'doom rumbled, his deep voice like the rustling of ancient leaves, “let me get this straight. You... miscast a banishment spell. And instead of sending something away, you brought this one—” he gestured broadly toward Eugene, who sat awkwardly in one of the ornate wooden chairs, “—from another realm entirely?”
Krungus sighed, leaning heavily on his staff, his usual confidence dented slightly. “Look, I wasn’t exactly in the best condition at the time, alright? Nine thousand years of solitude will do things to a man.”
B'doom’s lips twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile. “A man, yes. A wizard of your supposed caliber? I expected better.”
Eugene, feeling the weight of their gaze, raised a hand. “Uh, to be fair, I was in the middle of picking a movie when I got sucked into this world, so... yeah. No magic, no nothing. Just good ol' Blockbuster, which I remember you guys have never heard of. They rented movies… uh, entertainment, I guess?”
B'doom turned his head toward Eugene with an almost reverent curiosity. “An establishment with no magic, yet it provided entertainment?”
Eugene nodded sagely. “Thousands of movies, all alphabetized. Some even on sale.”
B'doom shook his head slowly. “Truly... bizarre.”
Krungus groaned, rubbing his temples. “Can we please move past the Blockbuster thing?”
B'doom’s expression darkened slightly, and he sat up straighter, his tone losing its earlier lightness. “Krungus... I need to know. What happened? Why were you gone for so long?”
A silence settled between them, heavy and unspoken. For a moment, it seemed like Krungus might deflect the question, as he so often did with anything resembling emotion. But then, with a deep breath, he nodded. “Of course, friend. Let’s talk.” He gestured toward one of the private rooms deeper within the airship. “Come on.”
B'doom rose to his full towering height, his head nearly brushing the ceiling as he followed Krungus into the adjacent chamber. The door closed behind them with a soft click, leaving Eugene and Qlaark alone in the main cabin.
Eugene leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply. “Well... that’s a lot.”
Qlaark, perched on a stool nearby, absentmindedly ran a hand over his cracked beak. He didn’t seem quite as lively as before. There was something in his posture, something in the way his shoulders sagged slightly, that Eugene had never noticed before. He wasn’t the same Qlaark who had talked his ear off about second chances and gods in the bustling bazaar. There was a crack—one deeper than his beak.
“Hey,” Eugene said awkwardly, tapping the table. “So... this has been pretty wild, huh?”
Qlaark blinked, as if startled out of some deep thought. “Oh. Yeah. Wild.” He forced a chuckle, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Eugene shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t exactly the greatest at emotional support, but even he could see that Qlaark was struggling. “Listen, man. I, uh... I know that whole thing with the Flock didn’t go down great. I mean, it really, really sucked.” He winced, realizing how poorly that came out. “But, you know... you're still here, right? That’s something.”
Qlaark sighed, his eyes distant. “It’s not just that we failed. It’s that they were ready for us. Someone knew. Someone powerful.” He shook his head, feathers ruffling. “The Flock had a plan. We were going to make things better, safer. And now... now it’s just smoke and ashes.”
Eugene hesitated, searching for the right words. “I get it. It’s hard when you care about something and it blows up in your face. Sometimes literally.” He tapped the side of his head. “But, hey... maybe it’s not over. You’ve got people like Krungus around now. And me, for what it’s worth.”
Qlaark’s beak twitched into a slight smile. “You? You’re barely more than a lost traveler with no clue how this world works.”
Eugene shrugged. “Yeah, well, I’m a fast learner. And I happen to have a magic genie living in my lantern, which, you know, might come in handy.”
Qlaark chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re terrible at this whole encouragement thing.”
Eugene grinned. “Honestly, you’re so short I’m having a hard time not treating you like a kid brother I never had.”
The toucanfolk laughed and patted Eugene’s back, since he couldn’t reach his shoulder. “Thanks. I mean it. I’ll figure things out. I always do.”
The conversation was interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open. Krungus and B'doom emerged from the room, the tension between them palpable. B'doom’s expression was inscrutable, but there was a new sense of resolve in his posture. Krungus looked tired, as if the weight of his confession had drained him more than he’d expected.
“Well?” Eugene asked hesitantly.
B’doom inclined his head. “I have agreed to return to the City, and thus The Number. There is work to be done. Balance needs to be restored.”
Krungus let out a deep breath, smiling and clapping B’doom on the back. “And I couldn’t ask for a better druid to do it.” He turned to Eugene and winked. “Rest up. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
Eugene exchanged a glance with Qlaark. Whatever Krungus had told B’doom, it had clearly been enough to convince the towering druid to leave his self-imposed exile.