“Thalon!” Griff screamed at the top of his lungs as they continued to fall from the sky.

“Focus, Griff!” Thalon yelled back, the rushing air drowning his words as he attempted to get closer to the scribe. The Sigist closed his eyes and fiercely brought his grey book closer to him. In that deafening descent, he muttered the word he had staked his soul on.

”Parhon,” Griff said as a great bubble of air enclosed both him and the wizard. It halted their descent, just enough for them to survive their crash into the densely wooded terrain below. The wizard and monk grunted and yelped as they collided with the old branches of the primordial forest, the light of the sun giving way to a darker secluded green that meshed with the ancient browns of the wooden trunks the magic users broke their bones on.

“Ow!” the wizard exclaimed in great pain, as he looked up to see a wizard-shaped hole in the canopy.

His rest was cut short, however, for soon after, the monk landed flat on his chest. “My thorax . . .” He cried with a strained voice.

“I don't want to fly anymore,” Griff said as he rolled over to the inviting grass.

“Well, that's a shame, Griff. I think it was your best landing yet.” Thalon sat back up.” My body hurts. But I think I'm good. Not my worst landing either. You alright Griff?” The wizard got up and lent a hand to his brother-in-magic.

“Yeah . . . think so.” The scribe sat up and looked around. “If my geography is correct, I think we are in the Eri Forest, the domain of the Eri Tribe.” He tried to get up, only to fall back again in pain.

“My knee!” the scribe yelped, and Thalon got closer to inspect it.

“ It's shattered,” the wizard said, looking worried.

“It's a punishment from the gods . . . I shouldn't have followed you” .

“Nonsense. A man of reason like yourself shouldn't be saying that,” Thalon said as he helped Griff to a tree. “Just hold on. I'm going to see if I—” Thalon stopped as he heard the noise of a dozen arrows being notched. One of them, in the branches above.

The wizard looked up to see a human dressed in green fur vestments, the point of his arrow aimed directly at his face. “-can find help.”

“I should have stayed in the monastery,” the scribe admitted as he saw the approaching group of forest hunters leaving from behind the trees. Thalon, flustered, simply said, “Uh . . . we come in peace?” At once, all went dark, and the wizard felt the weight of an ancient tree branch breaking over his skull.

As Thalon fell again into a forced slumber, he heard a thump beside him, and a fading exclamation. “Oh, for god's sake, not again . . .”

“Ow!” the monk grunted as he was dropped on the dirt floor, next to the manacle-bound wizard. Thalon began to rouse. The wooden door slammed shut. A few rays of light peered from beneath it and from the cracks in the thatched walls of their new holding cell.

“You alright, Griff?” the wizard asked as he inspected his friend's knee. The chains holding him bound as he adjusted himself.

“No, my knee is still shattered, idiot.” He rolled over to a more comfortable position on the plant fiber mat. “My head is spinning. Everything happened so quickly.”

“Tell me about it,” the wizard said as he melted the chains around his wrists and rummaged through his pockets to see what was left.

“Hey, Thalon,” the monk called.

“Yeah?”

“It's just . . . I was thinking. You could have just left the monastery at any point; you could have probably overwhelmed the monks and guards.

By the Dreggers, you could blow up this entire place too if you wanted it.” The wizard looked at the monk with a pensive expression. “Why haven't you?”

Thalon adjusted his hat and looked at Griff with a serious expression. “I don't want to hurt anyone. If I used my powers on other kin to get my way I would be no better than them.” He stressed the inflection on the last word.

“The gods, you mean?” Griff asked, still incredulous that he had chosen to follow a heretic.

The wizard nodded.

“By the One, what have I gotten myself into. What do you even want to do with the gods? I mean when we met, you said you were looking for answers.”

“It's complicated. I wanted to find more about these powers,” Thalon said, and placed his hands over the manacles of the monk. The chains began to melt.

“The ones you stole—sorry, discovered, from the gods?” Griff said as the wizard eyed him with slight distrust.

"Yes. Unfortunately, I got knocked out. I couldn't just barge in there and hurt my family. But it all worked out in the end; you answered some of my questions, Griff,” Thalon said with a slight smile.

“I did?”

“Yes. Now I know I'm not the only who hears parhon. My new question is, can all kin hear it, or only those blessed by the gods?” the wizard pondered as he scratched his beard.

“Is that your new plan then? To go tell every kin about Parhon? What are you even trying to accomplish with that?” Griff asked, wearily.

“Well I'm not sure yet. Haven't really planned that far ahead. Right now, we have to focus on fixing your knee, then we'll decide what to do.” The wizard squinted at Griff’s knee. “If only I had been born in the Evergarden instead of the Loreseed. I have no idea how to treat this.”

“It's not that hard to fix it, a simple greenback beetle paste with a touch of springmary would close the wound and help strengthen the bone.”

“Really? They sure prepare you Sigists for everything, don't they?” Thalon glanced back to Griff, but the monk was staring at the ceiling.

“I didn't say anything,” the floor-bound monk answered.

“Yeah, I didn't hear him talk,” a feminine voice spoke up from the darkness of the hut, behind the wizard's shoulder.

“Gah!” the wizard yelled, quickly crawling to the other side of the injured monk. As he looked back to the source of the voice, he saw her; before, she’d been camouflaged with the walls of the hut, but now a young Eri human was approaching the monk's side. She wore a humble dress of animal fur and leather, and had unkempt wild hair with volume matched only by the wild assortment of dirt, twigs, leaves and flowers that adorned her locks.

Whether the detritus was intentional or not, the wizard could not say.

“Uh, hello?” Thalon asked, reeling from the girl's uncanny ability to blend with her surroundings.

“Hello,” the girl replied plainly. Her humble expression and tone was a sealed mystery for the wizard. He looked back at her expecting more of an answer, but she merely stared back with a vacant look.

“Griff . . . do you see that girl?” the wizard whispered as he leaned slightly to his companion.

“Girl?” the monk asked and tried to straighten his back to look where the wizard pointed.

As he did, he came across the girl staring right back into him with her piercing green eyes, almost an exact reflection of an empty forest.

“Ah!” the monk yelled.

“Ah!” the girl parroted back, with an equal measure of fear and surprise.

“Where did she come from?!” Griff said as he hit his head on the floor of the hut.

“I don't know! What did you think I gasped for?!” The monk and girl continued yelling in turn.

“I don't know, I thought it was a wizard thing!”

“Why are we screaming?!” the girl asked.

“Who are you?!” Thalon asked as the girl and monk stopped yelling.

The young Eri woman recomposed herself and loosened her posture. ”Oh, I'm Fiona. Fiona Ericdauter. I came here to mend your wounds.” She gave a warm smile.

“Did someone send you?” the wizard asked, unsure of her true intentions.

“Send me? No, I came on my own. I like meeting new people. Hello!” She said cheerfully.

“How did you know I was hurt? Ow!” Griff moaned as Fiona began to inspect his knee further.

“Hm? Oh, I heard it from the hunters who brought you. They said they caught some poachers and one of them was hurt. I just had to come and say hi. Hi!” She waved to the injured monk on the floor. “I'm the fernian's daughter, so don't worry. I know my herbs and bugs, we will have that knee fixed in no time!” Her cheerful attitude was intoxicating, and Thalon could not resist smiling at her blind merriment.

The wizard recomposed himself, cleared his throat and asked, “Fernian’s daughter?”

“They are the local priests. Ow! -Griff yelped as Fiona cleaned the ruptured skin with a rather coarse leaf. “Specifically, the priests of the Eri. They mostly follow the Cult of Flora, the goddess of nature and life. Watch it!”

“What do they do?” Thalon asked as his mind wandered back to his youth when being curious was not yet punishable by excommunication.

“Oh, we do a lot of things!” Fiona answered with an excited smile, as she lost track of her work and moved her medicine pouch from hand to hand with a careless attitude. “We help care for the sick, guide our tribe, tell the hunters what to do, write poetry, prepare migration grounds, talk with the goddess.”

“You commune with the goddess?” Thalon interrupted. He was somewhat worried they had landed on a trap laid by the goddess of nature.

“Hm? Oh yes. Sometimes. If we need a big help. Although . . .” Her face fell. “It's been a while since we talked with Lady Flora. My mom is our current fernian, and she said Lady Flora has been silent for months now.” She got close and gestured for the wizard to approach. As she hovered above the injured monk, she whispered to the wizard, “Between you and me, I think Lady Flora hasn't talked with us because she's sad with us. Some of us want to stop the migration and make permanent towns and farming. I think that's why Lady Flora doesn't want to talk.” She sounded disappointed, but whether it was at the goddess or the renegade Eri, the wizard could not tell.

“Can you fix my knee already?!” Griff said as the wizard fell into deep thought.

“Oops, sorry! Let's get back to it,” Fiona said, and took what looked like a living green beetle from her medicine bag.

As he saw the bug, Griff's eyes widened in fear. “What are you doing with that? I must say, I'm terribly afraid of insects.” The wizard scowled at the monk's words.

“Oh, don't worry, they are quite harmless,” Fiona said and opened her mouth to chew the formerly alive beetle. “Greenbacks. They are very refreshing. You want one?” Chunks of the beetle's chitin and legs fell onto the floor with her saliva. The wizard and monk silently shook their heads and began to wonder if they were being mentally tortured by their captors.

“Here we go!” the fernian apprentice said as she spat the chewed beetle onto her hand. It was now a mess of green and grey paste. “After this, you should be back on your knee by nightfall,” she said as she began to push the paste into the open wound on the monk's knee.

Her words echoed in Griff's mind and time slowed down as he stared at the mess of chitin and twitching legs in the paste on her hand. He began to breathe erratically and his heartbeat at an incessant rate.

He thought back to the saint's words, but it was no use. He felt the insect entrails spread along his skin. As this happened, he thought back to when he had first heard Parhon, and his breath was momentarily taken away.

Either instinctively or on command, the wizard couldn't say, he saw what appeared to be the monk strategically depriving himself of air so he could fall unconscious and not have to face his fear of small-legged creatures.

“Huh . . . he must have been pretty tired,” Fiona said, looking sad that she would not be able to talk more with her new friend.

“He just needs some rest,” Thalon said, covering for his companion.

“Yeah, he'll be fine. Hey, you want to come see the camp?” Fiona asked excitedly as she pulled a small blanket over the monk's unconscious body.

“I can go out?” the wizard asked with a curious look, not understanding the nature of their capture.

“Probably not, but that has never stopped me before. C'mon!” Fiona grabbed the wizard's hands and pulled him up.

Thalon did not resist and followed her lead as they left the hut out into the Eri camp.

The wizard covered his eyes as he was taken aback by the sudden light of the day.

It was an emblematic camp of the famed Eri hunters and tribesmen. Strewn throughout the temporary sleeping grounds were the various tents and dog-pulled house-carts that the Eri dwelled in. As the dense forest intensified all around them though, Thalon noticed as a few, permanent, manmade structures dotted the campsite.

One of them, a pointy stone monolith that resembled an old arrowhead. As the sun illuminated it through an intentional opening in the canopy, Thalon could see numbers engraved on it.

“The markings of visitors?” Thalon thought to himself.

They walked past wooden pens that held the playful Erian dogs, and Thalon noticed some more recent, permanent structures. Lined throughout the main artery of the camp were a few log and thatch cabins with different runes and markings carved on each doorway. The cabins clashed with the temporary tents and carts, and even in the dark, secluded air of the Eri forest, Thalon sensed a palpable tension. It felt as if the smallest of embers could set the entire elderwood forest ablaze.

As they moved through the camp, Eri tribesman took notice of the pointy hatted wizard being led by the fernian's daughter. Tanners, woodsmen, gatherers and hunters all stopped their work and stared in disapproval at Fiona and her, even for them, wild ways.

“Fiona!” A corpulent man, dressed in a hunter garb of fur and leather yelled to the wild woman as he stood between her and her path. “What do you think you are doing? Put that poacher back into the supply hut.”

“Poacher?” Thalon let out.

“Don't worry, Sven. He's with me!”

“That's exactly what worries me,” Sven said, as Fiona tried to maneuver around the lumps of fat blocking her way.

“Sven, let her pass,” a young man dressed in a green cloak ordered as he approached the commotion.

Thalon eyed him and took notice of the quiver of arrows in his back and his piercing green eyes.

“Elijah, she can't keep doing this. If we can't even get our own to be united in purpose, how will we ever get her mother's nomads to side with us?” The bulky Sven said as Elijah adjusted his light brown hair and stared with a furious look at his hunting mate. “They won't learn if you force it on them, you damned idiot!” His voice echoed through the forest, followed only by the scared calls of the rare birds of the forest.

Elijah pushed Sven aside, who nearly stumbled as the camp’s onlookers stared at the commotion.

“What are you all looking at? Back to your chores!” Sven said as he grumbled away, trying to hold to any remaining hint of dignity he had left.

“Sorry about him. Are you alright, Fiona?” Elijah asked with a genuine tone of concern, as he turned back to the fernian's daughter.

“Yeah, I'm alright. Thanks Eli.” She spoke in a warm voice that evoked a hint of a blush from Elijah.

“So, this your friend?” Elijah stared at Thalon’s hand, which was currently held by Fiona.

Although he kept a calm demeanor, Thalon felt as if the air emanating from the hunter was hot enough to burn the entire forest.

Elijah's eyes pierced the wizard's soul with envy and hate. Thalon felt afraid, but also curious of what such feelings could do if they were powered by Parhon .

“Oh, I'm just showing him around the camp. His friend and him are fun!” she answered.

“Is that so? Good. A friend of Fiona is a friend of mine.” Elijah moved forward and raised his hand to his chin. “Listen, uh—”

“Thalon,” the wizard answered, questioning the hunter’s intentions in his mind.

“Thalon. Sorry about the whole capture ordeal. Things have been a bit tense around here,” he said as he gestured with his hands. His hypnotic movements and voice mesmerized the humble wizard.

“The Legionary Civil War is happening right outside our forest and we have been having some . . . unsavory characters come into our forest and steal our game. Surely, you understand our caution,” he said with a confident and sly look, his previous hostile intent disappearing as the wizard felt pulled towards the hunter's natural charisma.

“Uh, yeah, of course,” the wizard said with a slight stammer as he felt the presence of the hunter towering high above him, like the trees that surrounded them. Their shadow, a reflection of the power his intonation and words carried.

“Good,” Elijah answered with a smile. “Feel free to stay until your friend gets better. Hope you enjoy our camp. And you, Fiona. I'll see you later?”

“Always, Eli,” she answered with a deep blush.

Elijah smiled and turned away as he gave a wink, and Fiona and Thalon continued on their way.

“Hey,” the hunter called, as he and the duo turned back to see one another. “I like your hat,” Elijah admitted with a snap of his fingers before he turned back again and ventured back into the camp.

As they too turned back again, Thalon adjusted his pointy wizard hat and felt a renewed sense of confidence surging through him.

“This way!” Fiona said with an excited skip, as she led the wizard to a great tree at the edge of the camp. It towered over all others and pierced through the canopy, seeming to stand watch over its domain. At its base, a great opening revealed the depths of the earth. Fionna signaled for Thalon to look deeper into the ancient entryway. Its bottom was hollow and the tree walls went deep as they followed the roots to the bowels of Vaelia. In that natural smooth bore, a faint light glinted from its depths and noise and sounds of humming and chanting beckoned the wizard further. The song climbed through the wooden pipe and brought tranquility and peace. The wizard felt enthralled by it and as he instinctively leaned to greet the light, he asked Fiona, “What's down there?”

“My mom.” She unceremoniously said, as she pushed the wizard down to the natural wooden slide below them. The wizard gave a quick yelp as he fell and slid down the trunk. In the confusion, he could hear the fernian apprentice jump after him. Fiona's childlike yell echoed into the depths and mixed with the wizard’s frightened screams.

“Ow!” the wizard let out as the slide gave way to a flat, coarse sand and stone floor.

His initial grunt of pain was outdone by a greater one, as Fiona landed too, giggling while sitting atop the back of the dazed wizard.

“I love this tree!” she said as she rolled over and helped the wizard get back up on his feet. “Mind the ceiling.”

“What? Ow!” the wizard grunted as he held his head and took notice of the unusually short stone and dirt ceiling above them.

“Hi mom. Is this the one you asked for?”

A spectral-like figure moved at the edge of the rootcave. Nested in a corner, hunched over a glowing, cyan colony of mushrooms, an older feminine form dressed in grey furs and a white robe looked back at her guests. There was a strange glint in her eye, one that Thalon had only seen before in the wizened hermit scholars. Her skin showed signs of its age, wrinkles dotting her face. A few streaks of white meshed with the woman's natural dark brown hair.

“You are here!” she said as she began to crawl to Thalon and inspected his clothes.

“Mom, this is Thalon. Thalon, this is my mom, Fatima, our camp's fernian,” Fiona said as she comfortably sat on the stone floor with her legs crossed.

“Uh, charmed,” Thalon said and raised his hand in greeting.

“Thalon! Finally, you arrive . . . Come this way,” Fatima said as she grabbed her guest by the hand and pulled him closer to the glowing fungi colony.

“Woah, what's this about?” Thalon let out as his knee scraped the cold floor.

“The whole forest is in an uproar! You are the talk of the grove! They told me you would be coming soon, and it's a good thing you arrived when you did. They have a lot to tell you they do. Also, a very important message,” the fernian said as she sat down.

“Who does?” the bewildered wizard asked.

“The mushrooms!” she said with a worried face as she pointed to the fungal colony on the floor of the cave.

“What?”

“Just listen.” Fatima grabbed the wizard's head and pulled it close to the colony.

Outside, the wind rattled. The ground vibrated slightly as creatures passed over top. Deeper into the ground, Thalon heard the very light scatter of bugs and worms. But from the mushrooms, only silence.

“I don't—” the wizard stopped as a faint buzzing whisper came from the glowing colony below them. It burrowed deep into his head and the humming became louder as he focused on it. Finally, from a raspy mesh of voices, he heard words. “She's here.” As the words reached him, a familiar feeling of dread and anxiety took hold of him; a deity had arrived. The ground shook with intensity. Stones and mounds of dirt fell from the low ceiling while vines and roots broke through the rock they stood on. Behind him, Thalon heard excited oohs and aahs from Fiona.

“Miss, what—” he exclaimed as he turned back to the fernian, only to see a much more familiar sight. Her eyes glowed with an incandescent white light; she was being possessed by a God. They had found him again.

“Thalon of the Loreseed,” the fernian spoke with a booming and echoing inflection as the hidden underground sanctuary crumbled around them.

“No! I will never go back! Kill me and take my soul now or let me go. I will never accept you again!” Thalon said as he backed away and raised his arms to shield himself.

As he moved back, he bumped against Fiona who looked to her glowing mother with surprising reverence.

“My lady . . .” Fiona bowed down.

“What?” Thalon asked as he gave a side glance to the fernian's apprentice.

Vines and roots began to encircle the fernian, and as he looked around him, Thalon saw as the chamber too began to change. The walls of dirt receded and expanded. Flowers, leaves and seeds sprouted on the living walls, and before the wizard could react to it, the entire chamber changed. No longer a small, cramped chamber of stone and dirt, now the great underground chamber raised itself to an impossible ceiling as rapidly growing trees raced to its underground canopy. High above them, the possessed fernian emitted a blinding pale yellow light. The greenery in the wall raced to their new sun. The ground became covered with a mat of mosses and fungi, and as they looked around them, Thalon and Fiona saw a great underground forest of silver trees and giant mushrooms stretched to infinity in the underground liminal space. The darkness was broken as the glowing fernian began to descend. All around her, hordes of multicolored glowing mushrooms and mosses bloomed and lit up as she passed. As her furred boots touched the ground, her luminescence faded and flowers sprouted where she touched. Fiona could no longer recognize the face that was possessing her mother's body, but Thalon knew it. He raised his arms and held his ground in defense against what she wanted.

“Flora,” Thalon hesitated.

“Goddess of life and nature. My lady,” Fiona exclaimed with both joy and anxiety and bowed again to her patron goddess. There was a tense feeling in the air. Fiona had no idea why, but she could feel anger from the wizard. The wizard and the goddess locked looks, each staring deeply into the essence of the other. To Thalon, the elusive lady of nature's intent remained as it always had been to him, a deep-rooted mystery. Her eyes shone with a powerful air of resilience and strength. But much to the wizard's and the fernian apprentice’s surprise, the goddess knelt. Life sprouted around her and as various small bugs and a few underground animals emerged to meet her, the duo heard surprising words from the protector of nature and life.

“Thalon of the Loreseed. Our most faithful servant. Will thy help me, the lady of nature?”

The wizard recoiled, afraid it was some sort of divine trick. “Help you? Why would you want help from me?”

The goddess gave him a stern look. “Thy deed is known throughout the celestial court. We know what it signals, we knew one day it would come. Some of the gods have rejected this divine mandate and have elected to fight it and you for their right to rule over Vaelia and the Kin. Others, such as myself, have understood our tenure has come to an end. So it was written in the first days of the new light. Rather than being blind to it, some of us have simply elected to finish our affairs and dealings in this mortal plane. Not all of us were deaf to the plight and suffering of the kin. Some of us really do wish to leave those who we guard prepared for the coming strife of the new age,” she said.

“I-I don't understand. You knew what I would do? What deeds, what do you mean?” Thalon asked, and his defensive posture relaxed.

Behind him, Fiona stared with an incredulous look at what was transpiring. The goddess puppeteered the hands of the fernian, and as she did, the vines and plants of the tree walls twisted to mimic the actions she spoke of.

“Your discovery of the book of power. We did not know it would be you, did not know when it would take place, or that it would be in the Gods’ Palace itself. Things that will be are not a certainty or written with ink yet. They merely exist as vague ideas and thoughts in The One. We are of the light of The One, and we are aware of the generalities of what will happen, but how, why and when, they elude us. And until they become a certainty, perhaps elude the One itself,” the goddess said, her head down in reverence to the creator god that outranked even her and all the other gods of Vaelia.

She continued. “We knew that one day a kin would rise and bring an end to the Age of the gods. In the elder days, we thought it was Sigurd, the god of knowledge, and the court tried to circumvent the will of The One. We made him one of our own, and we thought ourselves so clever that we would rule over Vaelia forever. Then you appeared.” She said it with a hint of sadness. “The One, or someone else, revealed the book to you, and now you know of what was, and how.”

The wizard’s expression changed to one of frustration and he stepped forward and pointed at the goddess. “What?! Are you saying that what I have done, what I have lived, what I chose, is not of my own making? You are saying it was all still planned by The One?!”

“No, young wizard. Your actions, your choices, your path is entirely of your own making. The One does not control you, as I do to this honorable fernian. You are not its conduit or pawn, the One simply nudged you to the role you now have. Up until the very last moment, it could have been another, and even now the path you take might be entirely contrary to what was intended by the creator. But whatever happens, even if you try to circumvent it as we did in ages past, know that while your choices are yours to make and your roads yours to take, what was meant to happen will happen, one way or another.”

The wizard's expression relaxed, although he still felt anxious, and Fiona peered from behind him. “What about the gods that reject this?” he asked with a weird tone, still processing the entire ordeal. Flora's expression changed to one of contempt as she moved the fernian's hands and created the outline of the renegade gods. “The Obscured ones, some of the Children of Materies, and a few of the Kin Guardians. All will seek to find you and destroy you and your soul, Thalon. They want to delay the end of this age and prolong their rule as long as possible. However, there is one who you should be wary of above all others.”

“Who?” the wizard asked, afraid of the answer.

“The one who started this quest of yours in the first place. Nialasach, the Lord of Horror and Fear, has not taken kindly to your rejection of being his acolyte. Even now, he scours the shadows and dark places of Vaelia, looking for clues and hints of your whereabouts. A few other gods and I, who have accepted the change you bring, have tried to delay him. But this will only work for a time. You must gather allies to your cause, discover the inner workings of the Kin's power, and forcefully expel the renegade gods who refuse to leave this plane. Once you do, we will prevent them from ever returning.” She said it in a serene tone, but Thalon shook at the thought of facing the god of horror and fear again. But as the words registered, he remembered the injustice that had started his quest.

“What about you?!” he asked. It was more accusation than question. “What of the souls of the kin that you, Lady of Nature and Life, have taken over the ages? Are you not also complicit in the gods’ tyranny?!

And if you really mean what you say, why don't you and the other gods help me now and banish the other renegade gods already?”

The goddess felt the wizard’s words burn through her vines and roots, and she answered with a rare deflective tone. “I have always cared for my garden and the kin that inhabit it. From the most ancient of ages, I have protected those who give me their worship. I have never taken their souls for myself. I have always replanted them back into my earthly garden and given them new life as the trees, plants, animals and insects, and sometimes kin again, that roamed it. And I cannot help you because of that. I have never taken the kin’s power for myself. I am weak, as are the other gods who were not greedy. To the renegade gods, I am but an insect in the shade of a mountain. Besides, you are right,” she said as she bowed her head in reverence. “The fully unlocked power of the kin . . . If the renegade god's power is a mountain, yours is of a sea that will wash over and engulf it. Whatever help we can give you pales in comparison to what you can achieve once you discover the untapped depths of your soul. So it is we who need your help, more than you need ours.”

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The wizard looked shaken. Somewhere in the depths of his past, his former monk self could not believe that a god was addressing him as her equal. He shook that feeling down and took a step forward.

“What do you need help with then? And what can you tell me about the Parhon?”

The goddess looked back with a warm smile, pleased that the wizard had dropped his hostile tone. “This garden, this camp, this tribe,” she said nostalgically. “For centuries, I have looked over the Eri tribe. Seen them grow, seen them suffer, seen them prosper. But they are still ill-prepared for the troubles that you will bring. Some in this tribe wish to abandon their nomadic, ranger ways. They covet the prosperity of their imperial brothers. They want to build farms and villages, cut the forest and exploit it, so they too can prosper like their brothers to the East. If they are allowed to do so though, they will not survive the coming troubles. You must change their minds. Convince them to continue with their hunter ways. Only then will they be able to survive their future. Achieve this for me, and I shall tell you of a place where all of your questions about Parhon will be answered and where you can unlock your full potential.” The wizard thought long about the goddess’s proposal, while in the back, Fiona watched in silence, not wanting to disturb the celestial meeting. Finally, Thalon looked up to the goddess. With a determined expression, he said, “I'll help them.”

The goddess smiled at the wizard's words. ”Thank you. May your skies be clear, Thalon of the Loreseed. I shall see you again once you have cleaned this garden of its weeds.”

As she finished, the entire chamber seemed to collapse. Trees began to whither and the moss receded, and with a quick blinding flash of light, the cramped underground chamber returned. The fernian shook her head and cleaned the sweat from her brow as she looked toward her daughter and the wizard looking attentively at her.

“Mom . . .” Fiona’s voice wavered. The goddess’s words were shaking the foundations of the apprentice.

“Sweetie,” she said and tried to move, only for Fiona to answer by running back outside to the camp. “Wait!” she sighed as Fiona disappeared and she was left alone with the confused wizard.

“Are you alright?” the wizard asked the defeated fernian.

“I am, don't worry your pointy hatted head. Us fernians are used to channeling the goddess,” she said with a reassuring voice. “It's just a shame she had to hear that too.”

Thalon wondered if all priests and faith leaders in Vaelia knew what he had discovered in the library and if they had colluded and kept secret the true nature of the gods and the kin for all these centuries.

“She didn't know about the gods taking the kin's souls?” Thalon asked somewhat brutishly.

“What? No, no one cares about that here. Didn't you hear the goddess?” Fatima asked, annoyed at the wizard’s lack of tact. “No. It's been a while since I revealed our Lady's will to the tribe . . . especially Fiona. She—” Her eyes fell to the stone floor. “She's with those ‘Elijahs.’ I was afraid of how they would react. They would think the lady has abandoned them!” Thalon thought of a way to comfort the priestess. He had been trained for this sort of thing, to restore the faith when it faltered, but his schooling failed him. He looked to Fatima and his simple, mortal words brought her more comfort than any seance with the goddess had in months.

“We'll just have to find a way to show them she hasn't then. We'll fix things, “He said as he extended his hand with a confident smile.

“Thank you, wizard.” She sounded a little reassured, and hearing her say his title made Thalon feel powerful.

A cold breeze washed over the forest and pierced the wooden pillars of the earth. Towering high above her, Fiona saw the canopy leaves dancing gracefully, if somewhat anxiously in this time of year. She could feel it in her skin: a primordial sense spoke to her. The air coursed against her body like sunlight traveling the organic pathways of the tree leaves towards their trunk. The winds were changing. She crept away from the camp and into the dark grove, birds and calls heralding her as she did. Suddenly, the tension in the air grew as a broken twig and a fluster of bush leaves echoed among the plants and the mosses. She began running and heard frantic steps following. Fiona danced between the tree trunks, maneuvering through the ancient wooden pillars. The stones rolled beneath her feet, and the leaves and ferns gave way to her choreography. But as she flew delicately above the fragile flowers she made a dreadful misstep. The mosses betrayed her, as she stumbled and slipped on their fresh dew, it was all it took. She fell with her back towards the ground and felt a figure catch and push its weight down on her. The dimmed sun disappeared behind the towering pursuer. Her eyes widened and as her vision adjusted, she said, “Caught me!”

“You need to look where you step, Fi,” Elijah said with both a blush and a concerned tone.

“I'm too fast for you! I was just giving you a chance, Eli,” she said, staring at the hunter on top of her. His long, green cloak shielded them both from the dark, grove around them. Elijah felt himself melting as he stared back to the love of his life, words failing him. They never seemed to come out right when he was alone with her. He struggled to think, but as the right arrangement of letters and sentences was forming, Fiona pulled him towards her, into a passionate and comforting kiss. Their worries vanished as they held each other. Just for a moment, the goddess’s words disappeared from Fiona's mind. But it was not to last. In that euphoria, she could feel a thought beginning to take form. Out from the very depths of her soul, an unknown word appeared to her. She did not know what it was, or what it meant exactly, but she recognized its look. The form began to solidify into the shape of the ‘wizard’ she had met, and all her worries, fears, and anxieties came rushing back, led by the wizard. The passion vanished from her lips, and Elijah stopped mid-kiss. “Fi? What's wrong?”

The apprentice twisted in the dirt. Elijah felt powerless; he could protect her from the dangers of the forest, but there was no cloak big enough to warm her from the cold darkness of self-doubt. Fiona sat back up. “I—I . . .” she stuttered.

“It's alright, Fi, you know you can trust me.” Elijah took her hands.

The apprentice thought about the goddess’s words and the chaos they would cause. She wondered if it was best to keep quiet about it, but she knew better. If she was not meant to know about it, surely the goddess would not have revealed it while she was in the room. She embraced the truth and admitted, “The goddess . . . revealed herself to my mother.”

Elijah looked dumbfound at Fionna. He almost dismissed it as another one of her antics, but he knew this was different; her usual hyperactive self was gone, replaced with an uncharacteristically moody and introspective energy that he had not seen in a very long time.

“She did? What did our Lady say?” he asked enthusiastically.

“She doesn't like us. She said we are going to destroy the tribe if we settle.”

Elijah was aghast at her words, his hands beginning to tremble from the revelation. “What? No, that can't be true. Is that why she hasn't revealed herself to us all this time?”

Fiona nodded in silence.

“Damn it!” Elijah bellowed, as he realized his vision of reality clashed with that of his goddess.

“Oh Eli, what if she's right? What if all of this is just a mistake? Who are we to question the Lady?” Fiona pleaded to her lover, begging for any reassurance, as the dim light of the sun struggled to pierce the foliage.

“Fiona . . .” Elijah said in a low voice. He raised her head with his hand and looked deep into her green eyes. “She's wrong. How can she possibly know what we suffer? Even before she stopped talking with us, she would leave for all of everfrost, the time we needed her the most! Who is she to come to us and tell us we must suffer and starve just because it's how she wants us to live?” Fiona's eyes stared intently into Elijah’s, and a small but confident smile formed.

“We are Eri, we are free. We live with the wind, free from chieftains or emperors. And if we choose to settle down, that's our freedom and choice to make! Fiona, my love,” he said as he got closer. “Tell me. Would you rather follow the words of the Lady, continuing to see our friends and family die of hunger during everfrost, or do you want to follow through with our dream? Start a family and have a safe source of food so no one will ever go hungry again?”

“A strong house, three children who would never go hungry or cold in the everfrost . . .”

“Why only three? Why not, five, seven, ten!” Elijah said as he lifted Fiona from her depression and into the air. The apprentice landed again, and as they sat hugging on the leaf floor, the hunter spoke softly. “We would always provide for them. No bony hares, no diseased boars. Just a warm golden soup with freshly picked greens and sweet roots every night. If that's a world where we have to fight the goddess, then I say we do it.”

The honeyed words filled her spirit with hope and determination, but even as she was comforted in her lover's arms, something deep in her soul struggled to pull her back to the unknown depth. A shadow of uncertainty in the shape of a pointy hat continued to loom over her, but she pushed such thoughts aside, kissed her beloved, and spoke; “We'll fight her. For a better world.”

“I'll gather everyone. Tonight, we end this. We'll confront them and take control of our destiny,” Eli said as he held the love of his life and watched the orange of the setting sun beaming through cracks in the foliage.

“I'll meet you later then, Eli. I need to take care of some things first.”

“Your dad?” the bowmaster asked with a stern look.

The fernian apprentice nodded, and the hunter moved in to hug his beloved one last time before they changed the fate of the Eri tribespeople forever.

“I will always be by your side,” Elijah said before Fiona pulled away and silently disappeared into the forest.

The forest felt overwhelming. Small embers of orange light pierced through the gaps between leaves of trees that swayed and danced to the melody of the southern wind. Mosses and flowers welcomed the nervous fernian apprentice. Her step was careful and deliberate; to an untrained outsider, this was just another bit of forest, but as a fernian in training, Fiona knew better. It was holy ground. The birds heralded her arrival as the dirt floor gave way to scattered pieces of granite and schist. The small stones turned to large boulders, and the apprentice arrived at the right place. Surrounded by dense forest, in a circle of moss and rock, was a small, man-made clearing where boulders were arranged around a towering tree that was partially fused with a porous yellow and gray boulder. Vines dangled and down the tree, through the open holes in the yellow rock, and connected all the rocks in the circle with the surrounding forest. Fiona passed through the upright stone menhirs, all of them marked with various runes and pictograms, until finally, she stopped in front of a newly inscribed one. Close to the inner ring of the tree and rock was a small stone monolith about half the size of the young apprentice. It was still clear of vines, moss, or other natural reclamation, and only a handful of runes were engraved on it. The apprentice knelt before it, her eyes darting through the runes until finally, she found it a simple rune, lovingly carved into the grey stone. Two arrows crossed together next to a clouded sun. Fiona's hand brushed against the cold stone and her eyes began to water. “Dad . . . what should I do . . .”

Tears began to flow down from the apprentice, onto the stone and dirt floor, accompanied by her muffled, grieving cries. Amidst stutters and crying, she pleaded to the stone. “The Lady, she wants us to continue hunting. But I don't want to lose anyone else. I don't want to lose mom or Eli like I lost you.” She tried to look up from her crying. “It's not fair . . . why do we have to suffer like this? Dying in the everfrost, just because that's the way our goddess wants us to live. You didn't have to go.”

The fernian apprentice thought back to the cold everfrost when her faith began to waver; to the cold, the hunger and death. Sadness and anger swelled together as she thought of it, and instead of finding comfort in the divine light of the goddess, she felt nothing but confusion and fear.

“Please . . . talk with me,” she begged to the cold stone monolith. It answered with a natural silence. Despair began to set in as she felt the divine light abandon her, and in her soul, she felt only darkness. She prayed, wishing it didn't have to be so. Quietly and in her mind, she begged the goddess, “Tell me I'm wrong, please. My lady, don't abandon me.”

Just then, the silence was broken by a noise from the top of the small stone monolith. Fiona focused on it until she saw the source of the song. A small bird stood atop her family's menhir and gently sang her his song. The call of the yellow sparrow echoed in the clearing, breaking through the wind and the swaying of the trees as it brought comfort to the grieving apprentice. She patiently listened to the gentle song of the stone ring's guardian. It resonated within her and brought a strange calmness she had not sensed in a long time. She cleared her eyes of the tears, closed them, and let the birdsong guide her through the darkness and doubt in her mind. The forest air filled her body and soul as she steadied her breathing and calmed herself, the setting orange sun bringing a few dots of warmth through the canopy. The apprentice placed her hands on the floor and felt connected to the natural world that surrounded her as she felt the comfort of the moss and vines that ran along the floor below her. A realization began to form in her mind, brought about in part from the call of nature and in part from that unknown word that the pointy-hatted wizard had uttered to the goddess. She clenched her hands shut as she forced herself to pierce through the dark unknown of her conscious. In the darkness of her mind, the yellow sparrow lead her through the self-doubt that plagued her. She looked back and saw filaments of white light holding her in place. She felt constricted, as if outside her mind her own body was actually being surrounded by vines that were slowly twisting her and getting tighter as they pressed down on her body. She let go of her physical weariness, focusing mentally on the white constraints. A hand went loose and she extended it towards the void, towards the yellow sparrow. Her mind wandered, a primordial sense speaking to her and as the unknown word emerged again, she saw as the yellow sparrow took the form of a familiar older hunter. He extended his hand. As she grabbed it, she felt the pull from the word and the filaments broke off as the black void gave way to her enlightenment. The constriction was gone, both mental and physical, and as she focused herself, she saw the old, bearded hunter smile at her before morphing back into the sparrow and flying off into the enlightened yellow and orange space that had replaced the black void of doubt. Fiona felt at peace as the epiphany coursed through her and no longer felt bound by the whims of Lady Flora. She felt free and liberated as she realized the ancient truth of her people. She placed her newly transformed faith not on Lady Flora, but the world and nature itself. She swore off the orders and directives from the so-called “Keeper of Nature” and promised to only serve and protect the world itself, be it the plants, animals, or the people that inhabited it. She would bring back the true meaning of fernian, long before it had been taken by the “Lady of the Wild.”

Fiona opened her eyes to find the sparrow, now in the great ancient tree, looking to her.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile. In turn, the small, yellow bird let out one last call and flew upwards beyond the canopy, into the sky. Fiona looked around. Vines and roots had seemingly sprouted from the ground and now laid broken all around her. The apprentice merely remarked, “Huh. Weird.”

She got up from the stone circle, gently placed her hand on the monolith and said with a quiet voice, “I will make you proud, dad.”

She then turned around and watched the setting sun give way to the moon as she walked with a newfound determination toward the camp. Fueled both by the unknown word of power and her new self-made purpose, the forest accompanied her in companionship as she walked through it.

Night fell swiftly in the Eri camps. On the nomad side, the wizard and the Sigist were being acclaimed as their heroes and saviors as Thalon revealed his encounter with the goddess to the Eri. The nomadic loyalists began to lift the wizard and cheer him on. Meanwhile, the Eri settlers brooded in the dark and awaited their own hope, and from the darkness, two sets of footprints emerged. The apprentice looked to Elijah and with a determined look she said to him and her followers, “We'll save them.”

Fires smoke floated upwards into the night sky, along with the roars and cheers of the nomads celebrating their heroes.

“Pointy Hat!” Fiona bellowed from the darkness, pointing to the stranger in the heart of her tribe.

“Oh, by Sigurd . . .”

“Fiona! What are you doing?” The monk and fernian priestess said as they saw the mob approaching the camp.

“I’m doing what's right, mom,” the former apprentice said with a determined if weary tone. The full weight of her choice hung over her head.

“It's time we take control of our fate. The Lady has abandoned us so we must abandon her too!” Elijah said as he stepped forward. The crowds of Eri nomads leered at him.

“Woah, hold on a second, we can talk about this,” the wizard said as he slid from the cheering crowds and set himself between the two factions.

“Stay out of this, wizard, it has nothing to do with you,” Elijah the bowmaster said as his gaze met with the wizard's. The wizard recoiled for a brief second.

“Fiona, Elijah. This is not what the Lady wants. She wants us to be one again. Please, put down your weapons,” the priestess pleaded with the couple.

“The gods are not so quick to abandon their protected kin. You'll see that as long as you pray and respect them, they'll come to your aid,” the Sigist said as he limped forward with his cane.

“Yeah, right . . .” the wizard mused to himself under his breath.

Elijah looked deep into the monk's eyes and said with a fiery voice, “You know nothing of us, book peddler. We don't need you, or your Imperial cults.”

“Mom . . . we can't. Don't you see? To live as the Lady wants just means slowly dying. She claims to be the protector of nature and life but when we need her, she's always silent. How can we act as her emissaries and be her gardeners when the Lady herself is just an uncaring rock? I don't want to lose anyone else, ever again,” the apprentice pleaded with a hardened heart, her tone begging for the fernian to join her and let her emotions be free.

The fernian was silent, and as the words befell her, she began to think of the suffering she had endured for the sake of her position. In her mind, she began to doubt her faith. Meanwhile, the Sigist looked to the couple with discernible disgust. Insults and thoughts echoed in his mind. “Heretics, bandits, savages, serfs.” He tried to begin moving his body and instinctively the unlocked word of power, the parhon, erupted from the vast infinite space of his subconscious and he tried to raise his cane upwards. All it would take was to aim it, to blow away the doubters into the darkness of the forest. But as he tried to move forward, something stopped him. He snapped out of his anger as he saw a familiar beige and yellow sleeve blocking him from unleashing his divine ordnance. From beneath the long shadow of that yellow pointy hat, the eyes of the wizard were aflame with purpose and determination. As Griff gazed into them, he understood. The Sigist gave a respectful nod and fell back behind his savior again. The wizard then turned to the fernian priestess and spoke softly. “Don't worry, I'll handle this.” His words filled the fernian with hope and reignited her faith. Even though she could feel he had no love for any gods anymore, the blessing of the Lady emanated from the young mustached and bearded wizard. As Fiona looked at him, she felt as his presence dwarfed over the entire forest. She did not know what it was but she could feel that something deep within his soul powered him forward. As she stared at the imposing outsider, a thought erupted from somewhere deep inside her. A quick flashing hint of electricity coursed through her spine, as she recalled the word. “Parhon.”

“Elijah, was it?” Thalon asked, leaning forward to look to the bowmaster in the eye. “What are you trying to do here?”

The bowmaster was stunned by the question. “We are trying to save our tribe, to have a future. Besides, like I said to your friend, it has nothing to do with you outsiders.”

Fiona watched Elijah's green eyes pierce through the wizard. For a moment, the outsider flinched. Like a precise strike from an axe, the bowmaster's voice began to cut at the wizard's authority. With a quick step the wizard breathed in and steeled himself against the daring bowmaster. “Even if I'm an outsider, I still care about my fellow kin, just as I know you do and perhaps care even a greater deal for your tribe.” He said with a genuine and warm tone, and Fiona couldn't tell whether it was a trick or not. “I mean, you wouldn't be going against the goddess unless you thought it was for the best of your tribe and family.”

The bowmaster eyed the wizard with suspicion. Next to him, Fiona was fighting a deeper battle. The wizard’s words reverberated in her soul. She thought back to the family she had lost and the family she could lose, and the unknown word spurred her forward. “It's true, but it’s more than that. I want us to stop slowly dying. I want to start a family and know that none of my children or their children will starve in the everfrost. A goddess that claims to protect all life and nature but can't bother to protect us, her children, isn't worthy of worship!”

“Oh, Fiona . . .” the fernian said under her breathe, almost in tears.

“Fi . . .” Elijah said with a shocked expression at his love's newfound zeal and intensity. “I didn't know you felt like that.”

“It's the truth, Eli. They deserve to know.” As she finished, she noticed the wizard and monk look at one another and give a simultaneous nod. She wasn't certain of what they were thinking, but as she stared back into their eyes, she could almost see the signs of a simple thought saying “You're like us.”

The wizard turned his attention to the fernian apprentice. “Fiona . . . you were there. You heard Lady Flora’s words. Do you really think your way's the right way forward?” Thalon winced at the notion that he was following a god's orders.

Fiona looked to the wizard, his previous towering presence now diminished, perhaps intentionally, as he placed his trust into the obligation to the truth and Fiona's words. “I don't know the will of the goddess. I'm not a fernian yet, probably never will be, at least not how the lady wants it. I don't know who you are or what the troubles you bring are, but I know the everfrost is cold. I know what hunger is, how it gnaws and eats the body itself, know the sickness and death it brings. So much death. I don't want that anymore. I want to grow a family, want my children to grow strong and healthy and not have to go a night without eating. I don't want them to lose their father like I did just because we can't find game in the forest. If having all this means that we have to go against the Lady and suffer through her troubles, then so be it. It can't be worse than what we go through already with her blessing.”

Both crowds looked at Fiona with shock and empathy. All their lives, they had known her as the wild, carefree and optimistic fernian daughter. Yet as she told them of her hopes and dreams for the future, both nomads and settlers felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for having underestimated her. Fatima was speechless at her daughter’s words. She wanted to move to her side to tell her she would stand by her regardless of what happened. The fernian tried to take a step forward, but before she did, the Sigist put his cane in front of her, blocking her path. The fernian looked back to the wandering scholar, tears forming in her eyes. The outsider wore a serious expression as he shook his head. The monk and the wizard knew if she moved now, the nomads would follow and all their efforts would be for naught. The Eri would disappear into an unknown future.

The wizard took a step forward, and as the settlers raised their bows and javelins towards him, he spoke. “You want a better world for you and your kin. I understand that, I want the same too.” The wizard’s open and warm posture clashed with the hostility of the settlers and Fiona felt pulled towards him.

“Then why are you following the orders from that careless monster?” Elijah said as he let go of Fiona’s hand and aimed his bow at the wizard.

A devious look erupted from the wizard and Fiona felt the weight of the world crashing down as he said, “I'm not. She's taking orders from me.”

The light of the moon illuminated the wizard from behind and cast a large shadow throughout the camp. This was no longer a mere man who stood like a lone tree, being slowly hacked at by the couple. It was a monster, an incomprehensibly large mountain that towered high above everything and dwarfed all they had known to be true. Fiona steeled herself. No matter how impossibly large the wizard's aura was now, she would hold steadfast in her convictions. As she looked to Elijah, however, she noticed as his resolve vanished and melted away and for the first time in her life she saw him quiver in fear. “W-What do you mean by that?” he asked. The wizard turned his attention to the apprentice and as his gaze met hers.

“Tell them, Fiona. What did the Lady do when she saw me?”

The question stirred Fiona; it was as if time stood still as she considered everything. This thing, this monster . . . he was playing with her. She had fallen right into his trap. For a solid moment she considered telling a half-truth, just as during the private seances, when the fernians would give their interpretation of the Lady's will, she too could give an altered version of the Lady’s words. No one would blame her, not her mother, not the settlers. But it was not to be. A jolt of electricity coursed through her spine and up into her head. An unknown word steered and spoke to her. She would speak the truth, even if it meant she’d fall into his trap. “She knelt before him.”

“What?!” Elijah blurted incredulously, asking the question on everyone's minds. “Why would she do something like that?”

Fiona held her ground as she saw Elijah recoiling.

“Why? Because I am the herald of a new age!” Thalon said as he tried his best to straighten his back and project his voice to the camp. “I have dwelled among the gods in their palace, stolen their magic, and I shall use it to bring about a new world; a world for the kin, free from the gods. Isn't that what you want?”

The audience flinched at the wizards' words, wondering if what he said was true or not. Beside him, the Sigist simply said to himself, “Finally, the truth comes out.”

“That is insane! You honestly expect me to believe that?” Elijah said, drawing his bow.

“Eli. Put down the bow,” Fiona said sternly.

“No! I'm not afraid of this thing,” the bowmaster said as he shook with fear, staring at the smirking mustached wizard.

“Eli, don't worry. We'll be alright,” the apprentice said. Slowly, the bowmaster lowered his bow. She looked to the wizard, his aura and authority continuing to tower high above her. She forced herself to put up a serious expression and she said as both crowds listened attentively to their debate. “I don't know why the goddess knelt before you, but if you think we'll be scared of you because of that, you are wrong! I'm not scared of the goddess and I'm not afraid of you! I'm an Eri. We live to be free. We were free long before the goddess stole our freedom and made us slaves to her will. There was a time when being a fernian meant something. It meant helping our tribe, making sure we survived and lived in harmony with all that surrounded us! Now it just means following the Lady's orders, even if it costs our own lives. I won't have it, and any self-respecting Eri shouldn't either!” Fiona said. When she finished, she realized the crowd was hanging on her every word.

In turn, the wizard shed the threatening aura that he cultivated moments previously, adopting a more measured posture as he looked to the crowd and then to Fiona.

“Fiona, I think you're under the wrong impression. I want to help you.”

The apprentice raised her eyebrow. “You could help us by not doing what the Lady wants.”

The words hit deep with the wizard. He winced at the notion of fulfilling a god's command. “It's not that simple. Tell me, you said you wanted to start a family. Why can't you do it now?” the wizard asked.

Fiona humored the wizard as the crowd watched attentively. “It's not safe. We are always in danger of starving, especially in everfrost. If we could settle and start a village or a farm, we wouldn't have to go hungry again. I could grow old knowing my family would be safe and well fed.”

The wizard paced back and forth as he listened. “I see. Are you sure they would be safer?”

The apprentice was baffled by the question. “I don't understand. What do you mean?”

“I can't argue with the food. It is true you would have more and be well fed—have a surplus even. But the world is full of dangers, filled with monsters and predators that would want to take that food away. Normally, out in the world, wealthy villages or towns survive by either having tall walls or a god's blessing protecting them from natural dangers. You, however, would be here. And this forest is not the best place for such a long-term project. If you went on your own, you wouldn't have the goddess's blessing. If anything, she might feel threatened that you would be squatting on her domain now and might send predators to attack you.” As Thalon finished, the crowd began to murmur. “If you were to settle, you would be a target for monsters and predators. Right now, you have the Lady's blessing and are mobile enough that monsters being attracted to stockpiles isn't an issue.

“We would fight them back! We can take them on,” Elijah said. Beside him, Fiona began to question her views.

“You would take them on? With what?” Thalon asked.

“We are expert hunters and survivors. If we have survived all these centuries, we can take on a few beasts,” Elijah said. Fiona lowered her head, considering her situation and feeling a little embarrassed for her love.

“These aren't just beasts. They are aberrations created by Jut, the god of monsters. Horrible entities that roam Vaelia to cause dread. You haven't seen them close as I have. Towns and villages use heavy Imperial equipment and material to defend themselves against them. You don't have any of that!” Thalon said.

“Then we'll build the equipment we need to defend ourselves. We'll adapt like we always have,” Elijah said, slowly regaining his composure.

“You are a fool.” As the wizard said this, Elijah clenched his fist. “The infrastructure for such a thing takes years to build. Time you don't have.”

“We would build it between seasons,” Elijah said, growing impatient.

“What a stupid idea. Something like that takes organization, laborers, craftsmen, blacksmiths, masons. Things you don't have any experience with.”

“We'll learn,” the bowmaster said, his patience beginning to grow thin as Fiona became aware of what was going through his head.

“From who? The Empire? You know how they have all that? They have structures, hierarchies, slaves. Is that what you want to have too?”

“Enough . . .” Elijah said under his breath.

“That's what you'll have if you do this. You'll slowly lose your freedom. You will become shackled to the lands you work, like all the other serfs and peasants of Vaelia.”

“Enough.”

“That is if the monsters and beasts don't kill all of you before you get a single brick ready.”

“Enough!”

“Eli?” Fiona asked, watching the bowmaster’s shaking hand.

“And even if you survive, where will your freedom and equality be when you’re stuck under the thumb and authority of some chieftain or king? Unless you plan for that chieftain or king to be you?”

“I said enough!” the bowmaster screamed at the top of his lungs as he notched an arrow in his bow and let it loose.

“Eli, no!”

“No!”

“Thalon!”

There was a terrible silence in the camp. Instinctively, the wizard had recoiled when he saw the arrow being drawn. He tried to slur out the word of power but he had not been fast enough. He braced for the impact of the arrow, but it never came. He slowly opened his eyes and saw it; the arrow was stopped in midair by vines that sprouted from the ground and trees. Surprisingly, it had not come from him or Griff. In fact, the Sigist was lying flat on the floor, having tripped while attempting to blow away the arrow. The source of the vines was the fernian apprentice. Fiona sat in an uncomfortable position, her fingers moving and controlling the vines that had caught the arrow. Beside her, Elijah and his followers were bound by thick roots. She opened her eyes and was as shocked as the other Eri were.

“Eli! By Flora, I'm so sorry.” She moved to clear the vines covering Elijah's mouth. “I have no idea what happened, I just saw you shooting and something came up.”

“You hear it too,” Thalon said as he cleaned the sweat from his brow and helped Griff back to his feet.

“Hear it?” Fiona asked.

“Parhon,” Griff said amidst groans of pain.

As she heard the words once again, the apprentice felt a surge of power flow through her. She didn’t think or do anything, but Elijah and the bound settlers groaned with renewed pain.

“It's tighter!” Elijah cried from between the vines. “Stop it, Fi!”

“Oh, I'm so, so sorry!” she said hurriedly as she squatted and instinctively moved her fingers. One by one the vines opened and let the settlers fall onto the dirt. The wizard approached the apprentice as she nursed her love back to health and pleaded as he knelt by her side. ” What are we meant to do? It seems that either way we die or have to follow someone else's rules.”

The wizard affectionately placed his hand on her shoulder. “You don't have to die or follow anyone's rules.”

A glow of moonlight emanated from behind the wizard as she looked up to him. An affectionate, hopeful warmth radiated from Thalon, casting a newfound hope into her despairing heart.

“How?” she asked faintly, a hopeful smile begging to be set free.

“All I ask is that you understand the necessity of remaining true to your way of life. Continue as hunters and rangers. Forage, move, hide, stalk and live how you want. As long as you do, you can survive anything this world throws your way. You don't have to obey the goddess anymore; all you need to do is continue as you are. If you do, the Eri will never disappear from Vaelia,” the wizard said with comforting certainty.

Fiona looked to the wizard with hopeful eyes; she wanted to agree and take the wizard's hand, but something stopped her. She spoke. “But won't we continue to slowly die?”

The wizard rose up and said with a smirk, “Not anymore. Look deep into your soul. There's a word there that will guide you and make sure your people never suffer in everfrost again.”

Fiona thought back to the word she had heard, to Parhon. As she did, she placed her hands on the floor and as the word echoed in her mind she felt in tune with the forest. She felt the touch of the roots of the trees and the sway of the branches and leaves in the wind. The buzzing of insects, chirping of birds, and scatter of small animals in the forest grounds. More than that, she felt the warmth of the earth and the hope that she was looking for.

“So?” the wizard looked down at the squatting apprentice, already knowing what she felt.

Fiona looked up with a smile and as she grabbed the wizard's hand and got up. “This is . . . amazing,” she said.

“It's my gift to you, to all of the Eri. Use it well and your people will never suffer again,” Thalon said as he extended his hands. Tears began to flow from Fiona’s eyes and with a newfound sense of hope, determination, and happiness she raised her fist and loudly proclaimed, “We are Eri. We are free!”

The Eri erupted into cheers and celebration, as the settlers followed Fiona's lead and cheered in agreement.

“We will remain true to our ways!” Fiona said as she finally approached and hugged her mother. Around them, the two groups of Eri finally mingled with one another again, their rivalry brought to an end. Family and friends finally reunited as one again.

“Fiona!” Elijah said as he slowly stood up, accompanied by a handful of hostile Eri settlers. “You can't be serious! You're just going to listen to and trust this outsider? What about the food and the cold everfrost!”

The fernian apprentice looked back and with a slight, hopeful smile she said., “We'll survive.”

The bowmaster, appalled, looked at Fiona and gathered his handful of remaining followers. “Oh yeah?” he shouted, “Then we are through! I don't want to start a family with someone that has a death wish! I hope you and all you lunatic Floranists freeze to death!” With a quick turn and a hand gesture, Elijah turned around, followed by his handful of Eri settlers.

Fiona, meanwhile, was shocked by Elijah’s answer and only moved when she was pulled by her mother towards the campfire, where the newly reunited Eri tribesmen cheered and celebrated as they finished their daily supper. Thalon sat between Griff and the fernian priestess, who began to console her daughter and try to get her out of the catatonic shock caused by her former lover.

The Sigist turned to the wizard. “That was a close one,” he said. “Tell me, my heretic friend, is it going to be like that everywhere we go?”

“Oh no, of course not, Griff,” Thalon laughed and fixed his hat. “I'm sure it's going to get, much, much worse.”

“Sigurd help us,” the Sigist said as he downed a mug of hot soup, and Thalon began to share the knowledge of the word of power with the newly reunited Eri. The monk stared upwards to the stars beyond the canopy which was pierced by the moon, illuminating the newfound hope of the free Kin.

The sun rose above the tree lines and brightened the camp. Beside the houses and shacks a handful of settlers leered at the Eri nomads as they gathered their belongings and prepared to leave on their house-wagons. There was something they had to do first, however. The Eri settlers gathered around the great stone monument with Fatima in front of it, looking to her kin with a reassuring expression. At the front of the crowd, the wizard and the Sigist waited expectantly, while Fiona, now a former apprentice, stood at their side looking nervous. The fernian closed her eyes, breathed in the scent of the camp, and felt her body being occupied by a higher spirit. A celestial glow emanated from her now-white eyes and light surrounded the fernian, transforming her into the figure of Lady Flora. She wore a dress of leaves, vines, and hardwood and her skin was as green as the plants she protected. Her long and wavy hair resembled elongated leaves.

The eldest child of Materies spoke with a soft tone to her protected kin.

“My faithful, remember this sad day, for it is one you must not forget.” The Eri looked to their lady, some with tears in their eyes, others smiling at the chance of seeing the Lady once more.

“Today, I shall leave these mortal planes forever. You will never see me again.”

Some of the Eri began to talk among themselves and gasp in disbelief as they heard their patron.

“No! Why must you leave us, oh Lady?” a middle-aged Eri woman said, holding her young son. Her voice carried through the gossip, bringing silence.

“My time has reached its end; by decree of The One, I can no longer remain here with you. Don't worry, I will still hear your prayers and be in your hearts for as long as you hold me there.” As they heard her words, the Eri looked down in disappointment. But out of the expected mass feeling of sadness, one by one, the Eri began to look up again with a new hope and determination, an unknown word steering them and moving their hearts, a golden essence flowing through their veins.

The lady looked to them and spoke again. “I know you will be safe; you have remained true to me and as long as you do, you will survive. I wish to leave you with a gift. I have blessed every silver tree that grows in this grove. You may cut them and fashion them into holy signs and totems. Place them near your camps and wagons and as long as you stay true to the forests and protect them, these totems too will protect you from the darkness of the Obscured gods, their creations, and the harshness of the world.”

As she finished, the Eri smiled with hope, bowing and thanking their guardian in unison. Before she could leave, the lady turned to the pointy hatted wizard. “And you, my yellow hatted friend. You have fulfilled your promise to help my faithful. Now I shall fulfill my end of the deal. You must go west, beyond the domain of the Eri and into the Land of the Legions, past the Ley River and deep into Craddle Valley. Nestled between two rivers, you will find the ruins of our greatest shame. The ruins of Hopefield,” she finished. The Signist took note of the directions in his notebook.

The wizard gave a courteous bow and with a respectful voice said, “Thank you.”

The goddess looked up to the skies, preparing to leave, but as she looked back she noticed that one issue still required her attention. She looked to the former fernian apprentice, Fiona. Her heart was conflicted. The light of devotion no longer burned within her. Perhaps it never had. She still wanted to ask the Lady something but was afraid the Lady no longer loved her. Flora approached the young apprentice and told her affectionately, “Even if my words do not hold as much sway to you as before. Know that you have proven yourself as a true guardian of nature. May the flowers and trees bless your path, fernian Fiona.”

Fiona looked to the Lady of Nature and a crying smile erupted from her. As the Lady prepared to leave, she merely said “Thank you . . . my lady.”

The goddess gave one last look to her protected people. “I will always be with you, my children.” Then the great Lady separated herself from the fernian, her spirit climbing gracefully to the sky before disappearing in a great, blinding portal of searing light that illuminated the entire forest.

The forest fell into a moment of silence as the divine Lady of the woods left the mortal realm of Vaelia forever, never to grace the wild grove lands with her serenity and beauty ever again. The world felt a bit freer but also more flawed and dangerous. The wizard looked back to his companion and noticed there was an understanding and grieving stare behind the stern facade the monk put up. He knew what they had done and why they had done it, but he didn't have to like it. Thalon nodded in agreement, his posture betraying his true pride as he adjusted his hat and basked in the glory of his deed. He had banished a God. The Eri's silence broke when Elijah coughed behind the shade of his new house, together with a handful of Elijites. His glare pierced through the Eri, sending his message: “Leave and never come back, just like she has.”

The Eri began to prepare. A few mushed their dogs as the wagons began to move to greener pastures. Wagon by wagon, the Eri thanked the wizard and waved as they left, but one family refused to move. Thalon saw Fatima hug her daughter, sobbing. She gave her one last, heartfelt hug and waved as the fernian readily approached the wizard and monk, wearing a leather backpack.

“Hey! Pointy Hat!” she said , wiping her brow.

“Yeah?”

“Guess what, I'm coming with you.”

The wizard and Sigist looked to one another, and Thalon answered. “Oh? Why's that?” He asked, already knowing the answer from the kindred spirit.

“I need some time away from everything here and out there,” she said, glancing at the forest. “And I like what you said. I thought it would be a good idea to accompany you. If you need me, that is. I know my way around plants and herbs,” she said with a chipper attitude, finally returning to her wild and optimistic outlook. “So, what do you say, Pointy Hat?” she asked with a grin.

The wizard extended his hand. “Sounds like a deal, Fiona. Welcome to the team.”

“Please. call me Fi,” she replied with a smile, shaking his hand.

“Good to know I'm not going to be the only one witnessing this madness,” Griff said as he looked to the cheerful Fiona, almost jumping in place at the prospect.

He adjusted his satchel. “Well then. Shall we go?”

“Of course! Onwards, to the west!” Thalon exclaimed as he pointed towards the road.

“I am so excited!” the fernian exclaimed as the trio advanced, following the trail of the wagons towards a daring and uncharted world for now.