Five steps further into his life-directed travels, the goblin is stopped again by his spiders. And he thought they were now on the same page. Of course, things can not be so simple.
Cru, Strider is naturally soft-spoken. When she says his name now, it feels like a nervous whisper. Maybe his speech was too fiery. Will you let me travel with you? Wherever you are going, I can get you there quicker.
I want to come, too. Though I can not quicken your pace, I will not slow you down. No, allow me to be the blade that cuts down any obstacle that may impede you. Cru intended to travel alone. His fears convinced him he needed to face this trial alone. He still feels like this is a task he should handle alone, but he does not like the idea of crushing his spiders' initiative.
"You two can come. Shelby, Diti, and Gwen work with the drifter to get some training and coordinate security efforts. He has the command." Once again, no pushback. Not even a recoil at the mention of the orc. He thought there was a rivalry there based on harbored feelings of jealousy. Not only did Jim sneak past their guard, but he showed all of them up in a fight against Roxi and Fury.
When he turns to the river this time, he senses the three priestesses' departure. Swiftly, two take to the trees, and one jogs through the woods.
Strider hunches down for him to climb atop, and Trish blazes forward toward the river. The trio do not cross the river. Instead, they trace the river's flow back to its origins, taking them through mountain valleys. They climb two mountains before the sun passes the horizon. Cru continuously bolsters Strider's strength and speed with an ample supply of life mana. Occasionally, spirit beasts can be found dead with deep gashes running through them. Their lives are drained and sent to Cru. True to her words, Trish keeps obstacles out of their way, allowing them to travel with haste. By afternoon, they stand on the tallest mountain. Mount Tall if his energy readings are accurate.
A moment is spared when the druid finds the remains of a bugbear fortress in the valley east of Mount Tall. What once was a towering castle is now a burned ruin. The bugbears were not kind to their home here, and their taint still reaches deep into the earth.
As he had done before, Cru sends life into the grounds scarred by fire, axes, and violence. The overwhelming task is made possible by the abundance of life mana lingering on the edge of the fortress where the trees have not yet been cut down. The golden energetic energy is eager to be used to restore the lands.
Only after the land no longer feels sick does Cru feel life, pulling him further west. One more mountain is scaled before they call it a night. The goblin itches to keep following the tug on his core but is not so careless as to push his priestesses past their limits.
Cru reaches his destination before evening the next day. The tug on his core is overwhelming now. It feels like the roots of the forest are reaching from the ground to pull him in.
The brightness of life and the wild activity within the grove starkly contrast with the sickly quiet plaguing the Deep Dark Woods a few weeks ago. Vibrant energy enriches the air, and the trees seem to glow. The image of the ghostly forest where Cru nearly lost his chance at his new life is still ingrained in his memory. He thinks about his fight with Roxi almost daily and how close he came to losing. Now, the Deep Dark Woods are beckoning with life and light. The named forest no longer matches its name.
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Standing firm in the grove's center is a brilliant Golden Mana Tree. As the druid steps closer, his heart beats rapidly. His body is invigorated, and he feels he has the strength of ten warriors. Not able to withstand the sharp energy flowing from the tree, his two spiders stand back, watching timidly as he steps closer. His steps are careful. He knows if he falters even a little, his priestesses will risk their lives to come to his aid.
As Cru reaches the tree, he feels his chest about to explode. His arm shakes as he stretches his hand to the tree. There is so much energy, so much life. It is overwhelming, and not just him… the entire forest is drowning in excess energy. This… isn't right. It should not be like this. Cru saved this forest. His gift was meant to bring prosperity to the forest.
Balance. The idea flows from the tree into his heart. Cru focuses on the connection established with the tree, searching for greater understanding. He thought he was bringing balance. The forest was starving for life. The Golden Mana Tree was to fill the void left by the dryad. Perhaps it has already served that role, and now there is nowhere for the excess mana to go, so it drowns the forest. Why can the forest not use the energy? Grow larger trees, deeper roots, and larger creatures. Life finds a way to prosper.
Time. The grove sends a simple thought into the druid's core. The forest here is still young. It is in a new world, with different levels of mana. It is still learning to adapt. Even the hundred years it has been here had been suppressed by the dryad. The Golden Mana Tree helped the grove recover, but now it is suppressing the forest in its own way. A tug of guilt pulls at his emotions for his naivety.
Life is always more complicated than it needs to be. A forest is sick; providing it with a source of life should be a surefire solution. People want to be friends—they should not have to prepare themselves for betrayal or letdown. Dreams are within reach—why not reach out and clutch them? Why is life always a dance of one step forward and three steps back?
Cru is needed, even wanted back at Wolvsden. He and his spiders provide the security the budding town so desperately needs. Still, much like this tree, he is a poison to the Rising Fist.
Life surges into the goblin from the Golden Mana Tree. Under the mountain of power, Cru falters. This is the same struggle he has fought his entire life. He is too weak to claim what he wants. He succumbs to his despair in a moment of weakness — weak and little. Tears blur his eyes. He closes his lids to keep them contained. His efforts are futile.
Cry out. Lash out. This is your world. This is your reality. You are a runt. Silly to think otherwise. His thoughts betray him, and he wants to throw his head against the tree to rid himself of his ridicule… his shame… of himself. You will just be back at the bottom. The last thought sparks his fury. Not at himself. Not even a little of his fury is directed at him. It is at his home and the creature they made him be, the creature they abandoned. He didn't need the strength to defeat his dungeon; all he needed was the strength to cut ties to his home.
He is not a member of The Eternal Darkness. They never wanted him. He… never needed them. He was abused for their gain. Why does he allow them to still have a claim on him? He does not need their approval. He does not need their affection. As his thoughts turn from despair to anger, life continues to burn within him. His core surges, and through his connection with the Golden Mana Tree, he can sense the depth of his soul, foundations, spider bonds, and life mana. The bond to his old home, The Eternal Darkness, holds it all together.
He held onto this identity of belonging to the strongest dungeon his whole life. The Eternal Darkness could rule the world if they wanted to. They had the people and the power for complete control, and he was a member of them. Even if he was weak, he belonged to the Darkness. Now that he is through with the one-way relationship, he finds that his old identity is the basis of his core. Without Darkness, he has no life.
This time, he does not let despair in. Once was enough. His will is solid. He forged his own path. He chose his own name. He will not let his life be claimed by another. In an abrupt pull of mana, Crusher floods his core with life. Unbelievable pain wracks his body. His vision is white. Blood drips from his face. Still, the goblin pulls in mana, willing himself to complete one last task. Flooded with life, the goblin's body falls. A hard thud echoes off the tree. Two spiders try to rescue their god but find they cannot move. Slowly, they fade away into specks of life.