Xochipilli woke up an hour later. Her heart ached to see him jump away from her embrace when he just looked so cute and comfortable in her arms…

  The boy was rather down after seeing that only six people without counting his uncle had joined their convoy. Those eyes screamed "I expected more people."

  "Are these all the survivors?" He asked his uncle a while later.

  "I don't think so," the man replied. "There are just the ones in our plantation. Gods amongst know only where the rest are, if not feeding the worms."

  Aloe didn't offer to help them. Perhaps if Xochipilli asked for her assistance she might have done it, but the boy didn't seem to burden her goddess. Perhaps he understood that finding random villagers who they didn't share vitality with was a difficult – if not outright impossible – endeavor. Some would say that she had already helped the boy too much by having saved him, let alone fed him, clothed him, given him a roof, taught him how to read and write, and taught him the vital arts. She had even infused his body with longer life and his mind with her ideals!

  How paradoxical that she had given him that much and yet it felt like so little.

  Everything felt little to her, as if she was the massive tree that loomed over the Evergreen. And in a way, she was.

  After the already rugged and exhausted Tecolatans collapsed from their march, Aloe prepared them a Radiating Undergrowth stew. It wasn't the best of foods, but it filled the stomach unlike any other. And she could prepare it anywhere. She had all the cooking utensils on her Slowtide and there were Flourishing Springs everywhere for her to fill a pot. She used a Blossomflame to not only cook but also heal the villagers, though they only had bruises at worst.

  Yet the greatest wounds they bore were exactly those she couldn't heal.

  "I've been too secretive in my story, too silent. Please, let me share it with you." Xochipilli had told her over the meal, and she only desired that he hadn't done it.

  The poor child explained to her what had happened on the plantation, how he had recalled what had happened on that day his life and that of his fellow villagers changed, and how his parents died. Her own life had been cruel, but the cruelty Xochipilli had experienced was on another level.

  How can he stand on his own small and thin legs when he has seen her mother split in half? All the cruelty she had experienced had been to herself, and as selfish of a person as she was, she preferred it that way. Her family hadn't been long-lived, but they died for reasons many others had. Nature. Life. Time. But humans were none of those reasons.

  She felt so tired.

  It's always people, isn't it? She didn't voice it, but from the look Xochipilli gave her, it would seem she hadn't hidden it too well.

  Before long, they were back again on their way. Maybe the plantation had been closer to the Heart of the Evergreen than Sadina was, but that didn't mean they had quite the journey before them. The Tecolatans kept talking in their language, and Xochipilli sometimes joined their conversations, but she didn't bother to join them.

  It wasn't even night when she had to take out a Radiating Undergrowth as a lantern as the darkness grew too thick. Not because of the density of the canopies, but by the projected shadow of the World Tree. But it certainly was night when they arrived at the base of the Heart of the Evergreen. Even though the dryads had been trailing them for a handful of kilometers now, the first one to greet them was the serviceable Aleahilhahiba.

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  "We didn't expect you so soon, oh mother." The lichenous dryad spoke with the same rectitude as always, yet something in her mannerisms – those miniature twitches of her polypore – told Aloe that she was ecstatic to see her.

  A handful of whispers flew in the background as Xochipilli's uncle seemed to be interpreting the words for his countrymen. Whether it was for her previous threat or Xochipilli's conversations, the Tecolatans didn't seem to be surprised by Aleahilhahiba's presence. Much.

  She couldn't blame them; her eldest daughter was quite the sight. Fungi were scary even when they were just static fruits on the ground.

  "Neither did I," she admitted. "I rescued these people from captivity. I'd like if you could grant them lodgings and meals."

  "But of course, oh mother, you only need to ask." Aleahilhahiba slightly bowed. "Do you plan to be back soon?"

  "I… most likely." The Mother of Plants slowly nodded. Tiredly. "I need to do one last errand, and once I'm done with it, nothing else will tie me down."

  "I pray that such errand is completed swiftly and without complications."

  "Pray?" She chuckled. "What do you pray to? I doubt you follow the tenets of Sulnaya."

  "To you, oh mother." Her bow now gained a new meaning. "We all pray to you. For you. For your sake. For your wellbeing."

  She felt the eyes of the dryads upon them. All of them. Even the ones that weren't present. Their… beliefs weighed her down more than any force of nature could. She felt nauseated. She needed to run. Now.

  "That is good to hear," Aloe expressed with a warm smile. "I will get going then."

  "Wait!" But as she turned to depart, a voice stopped her. Xochipilli's. "What about me?"

  "It is better if you stay here, child." She added softly.

  "But you promised me to board an airship with you!" The child stomped on the ground; his eyes were teary. A fool would have mistaken his actions with a tantrum, but she saw something else. She saw fear.

  Aloe bit her lips. "That I did. And no oathbreaker I am." The druid groaned as if the words that were about to come out of her mouth hurt her. "Fine, but the journey will be a rugged one."

  "I've grown used to them," he responded with a silly smile.

  The Mother of Plants couldn't hold herself and chuckled. The flames in her burning heart turned into warm ones for a brief instant before going back to being scorching and hurtful fires.

  "Well, you have heard him, Aleahilhahiba. We will be back soon." The dryad nodded at her words. "Xochipilli, say goodbye to your uncle. We are departing now."

  The boy waddled to his family, and they almost conversed for five minutes. The dialogue nearly turned heated, but whether it was because of her presence or that of the dryads, the man kept himself in check. Xochipilli rushed back to her after that.

  "I'm ready," the child raised her arms up to her, offering himself to her.

  Without so much of a sprout of doubt, Aloe grabbed him, and they dashed away from the Heart of the Evergreen. She was growing more confident in carrying the boy – as fragile as he was – which allowed her to move at greater speeds. Still only a jest compared to her true might, but faster than poor and cute Fikali had ever managed.

  Even though she was the one moving, they had to take rests as the journey was too hard on Xochipilli's boy even with toughness on. As much strength as the boy wanted to project, she had also suffered from bruises when riding a haste-boosted dweller, and that was with her having more vitality than him and being an adult. It didn't matter if he had more vitality, some paltry Haya wouldn't make a difference when his base physique was so feeble from his lack of development.

  It was well into the night when they made it to Sadina. Aloe could only thank her foresight for paying multiple days in advance for their room. Xochipilli fell asleep as soon as his body hit the mattress, but she kept watch.

  She had used glamour on those guards on the plantation and kept them alive, so it was only time until her presence became public. Yes, she might be able to alter her appearance, but there was no hiding her enthralling glamour.

  She was against the clock.

  News could only travel so fast, but she had almost lost a day. Her surprise factor could disappear at any moment. If she wanted to complete her quest, she had to do it before the other side could prepare.

  So as the night painfully passed by, Aloe prepared herself. Her passive vitality restoration was so great that pills were completely useless to her now, and she had stocks of evolved beings for decades, but she made her time worthwhile. Firstly, she let the Slowtide expand a bit to gain a bit more storage space. Then she evolved and stored grown Heartgrowths inside it.

  This was assuming the worst, but the heavens seldomly had shown her love, so the worst was also the most likely. Even if she were somehow unable to restore her vitality and her Blossomflame reserves were exhausted, she could substitute her body like a patchwork.

  Aloe Ayad had been waiting for this moment for centuries, and she wouldn't waste one second of preparation until she fulfilled her quest. Once and for all.