Chapter 35: Time

*Time remaining: 299 days, 1 hour, 45 minutes, 12 seconds.

I step out of the darkness into the domain around his tree.

Sairal looks up from one of the vials he’s inspecting and nods at me. “You assimilated that thing?”

“I did. Gave 15 Constitution,” I confirm. I look at the vials in his hand that seem to be filled with millions of spores, each one glowing. “And you? Have you finished up with the things you’ve bought?”

He shakes the bottle in his hand, “No, this is only the beginning.”

I sit next to him and also lean against the trunk of the tree. I look up at the stars that hang in the sky above. Most of them are hidden by the canopy of his tree, but I can see a moon or two along with a nebula that’s mostly purple.

“I’m bored. Do you want to bore me further with your lectures on mushrooms and why they are the best?” I ask him, trying to diffuse the tenseness that has hung in the air since the first chime of the event.

My joke is good enough to draw a smile on his face, albeit a small one. “Actually, this is fascinating when you can sense magic or know the mechanics behind it.”

“And what’s that? I don’t know anything about magic,” I say looking at the spores that swirl in the vial like an angry tornado made out of motes of light.

I shift closer to him, our arms touching as I lean closer to the vial in his hands. “You are doing something with the spores. Aren’t these the expensive spores?”

“They are. Truly a find. Never in a hundred years I could go to the third layer and harvest some for myself,” he says looking at the spores.

There is a minute of silence between us as we watch the vial. From the blue glow of mana, some of the spores start to gain a distinct colour, ranging from green to every colour imaginable.

“See how they glow now? I am pushing my magic into them to awaken them. If that happens successfully they become (J) grade mushroom guardians that I have to raise.”

I lean closer to the vial, trying to see the individual spores that rage in the vial. “But how are these different from the ones in the forest? Why are these ones so much more expensive?”

The dryad gives me an approving look. “That’s a good question. For a spore to awaken and become a mushroom guardian they need to surpass a certain energy density in them. If they can’t hold that mana injected into them they will break and die.”

He taps the bottom of the vial where the dead spores lay. They don’t shine anymore and look like ash or dust.

“The Outskirts of Luxia aren’t dense with magic. No, they are actually devoid of magic,” he corrects himself, “Spores from here rarely are able to survive the magical density needed for them to awaken. The third layer has a magical density that is comparable to or even stronger than in the central forest. Hence the price and the increased rate of awakening.”

Together we watch the spores fall to the ground by the thousands per second like snow.

“How many will awaken?”

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“Two? Maybe three with my luck.”

I keep staring at the vial that must hold billions if not trillions of spores. “But there are so many.”

A few silent, comfortable minutes pass. As more spores die, the ones that remain grow more distinct. I smile as the spores look like bottled confetti.

More minutes pass before I speak up again, “What if we add my sap to it? Would that help? Maybe my healing properties can make the spores last longer?”

The dryad pauses and all the spores temporarily dim as he stops infusing mana and fully turns to me. “You would?”

I nod, “You said it yourself. We need all the strength we can get.”

“Thank you.”

I cut my finger and let a few drops of my sap fall into the vial. It feels weird doing this freely. I always feared that someone would find me and lock me up for this. And now I’m doing it on my own volition.

The spores glow brighter as Sairal pushes more magic into them. We watch them for what feels like hours. Like me, he clings to this moment. He too is scared of what’s to come. I don’t want the time to pass, grasping for the needles of the clock, wanting to steal time.

But time marches on, shown by the countdown that I hesitantly put back in the left corner of my vision. And even if I removed it again, time would still be noted by the shifting of the stars and the number of spores.

We sit like this for what feels like hours, listening to the silence and watching the spores.

All too soon only twenty remain out of the billions that once were there; each one a glowing speck of light, so close to the needed threshold for them to reach.

This moment is coming to a close.

I’m the one that speaks up first, “Whatever happens…be safe. I don’t want to lose the only friend I have.”

Two spores flicker out, urging us on.

“A friend,” he almost sighs the word as another spore flickers out, “No one called me that in a long time.”

More spores fall to the bottom of the vial. When ten are left his voice fills the air, “I think I would tell you if you asked.”

“What do you mean?”

“…Why I’m like this. So…thirsting for power. Why I am out here all alone, by myself. Why I am Isolated with nothing to fight, nothing to do. Before Cobalt and you appeared life was miserable. All I did was sit in my tree day by day, month by month, year by year… waiting for a human strong enough to end it all.”

Two spores die. Eight remain.

“You know. Some days I believed what they told me. That I was responsible That it somehow all was my fault. It took me a long time to realise that’s how they play their game.”

Another spore dies. Seven remain.

Sairal turns towards me. I almost expected to see tears rolling down his cheeks, but that isn’t him. Instead, he lets me in for just a second. For just that single I see what they’ve done to him, how hollow he is, as they have taken everything from him.

A spore dies. Six remain.

In that moment of openness, I see the real him. How delicate he actually is. That a touch can bruise and a word can draw blood.

“Will you ask me?” he says afraid and trying to slink into the shadows in the night, as if I would pull out one of the few things he has left and never give it back.

“No.”

His mouth opens and closes in confusion before slumping against the tree.

“Maybe someday you can tell me without, being asked for it. I don’t want to pull any truths or secrets out of you. I just want to be friends.”

The dryad is silent as I continue, “Everything is a bit bleak right now, but if I can help just ask.

I look back at the vial. Five spores glow with light. Something changes in them, instead of flickering out, they hum and begin to grow into (J) grade mushroom guardians.

“Sairal. Look. Five made it.”

Hollow-eyed, he still looks at me, emotions hidden so far away that the Depths couldn’t compare.

Does he hate me now? Maybe I should’ve asked…

He turns back to the vial, observing the newly formed mushroom guardians. “You helped.”

He turns back to me and gives me a faint smile, pain bleeding through it.

Maybe it’s me, but he seems less hollow than before.