At Malak’s statement, Ethan felt himself sink lower into the Albion pool.
Klax, meanwhile, grinned his wolfish grin.
“I could have told you that without the aid of prophecy,” he said.
Malak grinned. “Such is to be expected of the Archon’s servants.”
“Ok, ok,” Ethan replied. “First, let’s get it clear that these guys aren’t my ‘servants’. They follow me of their own volition. Second, if the war you’re talking about is the old one of Archon vs Lightborn, yeah, we’ve already made some progress on that front, but we’re not here just to beat the Greycloaks down and take over.”
“No,” Malak agreed, his eyes suddenly full of fire. “You are here to break what binds us all to our roles.”
Ethan narrowed his three eyes. “I guess word travels fast.”
“We of the root and the stem keep our ears close to the earth,” Malak replied with a twitching of his wrinkled ears. “The druids have existed since the first acorns fell on Argwylian soil. But it is only in the last century that we have taken up arms in pursuit of a greater cause.”
Klax nodded. “We have heard of your people back in Sanctum,” he said. “You fought well at the Battle of Kleddon Moor in the aftermath of Gyko’s fall.”
“These humans fought with you?” Ethan asked.
“Gyko was a patron to all who worshipped the earth,” the wolfman explained, no small degree of pride in his voice as he remembered Ethan’s predecessor. “Argwyll has no official religion, besides veneration of Kaedmon and his Lightborn, but all the same those who venerate the earth are seen as heretical. ‘Kaedmon made the world to be experienced, not worshipped.’ At least, that’s what they say.”
Ethan remembered Jun’Ei’s words then – about how Gyko had been a human Botanist in life.
Must’ve been great for you, Sis, he thought. Teaching a whole world to love the earth like you did…
“I wonder sometimes if the God Himself believes the lies he tells us,” Malak said sadly. “We fought well in the battle to preserve the life we chose. But still, we failed, brother Lycae.”
Klax shared his sorrow. “We all did.”
“Never again,” the old man said. Now he looked straight at Ethan, the same fiery determination filling his face, giving his ancient features the spark of youth. “Since that day, we of the Fifth Pillar have changed the Order. We have encouraged its growth. We looked within our ranks, and understood that in order to right this world, we must adopt a more…proactive approach.”
“And that’s where I come in?” Ethan asked.
Malak nodded in supplication. “You are the Archon. The bringer of Change. Before the Fifth Pillar, there were members of our Order that believes we should stay withdrawn from the world. That our loss in the last great battle was a sign that Kaedmon was to retain his rightful place as master of mankind. But this is a falsehood, Archon Ethan. We of the Fifth Pillar helped the druids of the Grove see that.”
Ethan listened to the old man’s words. But more than that, he saw the fervent power in his eyes. His old face had been utterly transformed. Maybe it was the benign waters they were bathing in, maybe it was the fact he was meeting his ‘hero’. Or maybe it was something else entirely.
“I thought the Fifth Pillar and the druids were one and the same?” he asked.
Malak gave a wry grin. “The Pillar has no specific affiliation with any group or guild,” he said. “We are those who understand that the Archon brings a new light to the world for everyone – human, hybrid, and monster alike. You will unify us, Ethan Hawke. The roots of the Albion have shown us this thing. The great tree never lies.”
Ethan and Klax both looked up at the ancient, dominating thing. They traced its bark, and saw its Drytchling servants tending to its varicose leaves glistening in the small patch of sunlight that dappled its brown veins.
“When you called to us, I knew the time was finally upon us all,” Malak continued quietly, as though he himself couldn’t believe the words. “And that you would be ready to receive the Gift of the Albion.”
Ethan craned his Host’s tiny neck. “Gift?”
The old druid’s grin widened. “It has been waiting for you,” he said as he rose, and Ethan proceeded to avert his gaze. “Come.”
…
When Tara woke up, and realized she was sitting in a pool of water, she was about ready to scratch somebodies’ eyes out.
But the feeling of warmth beside her stopped her abruptly. It was…familiar.
She felt the hand of her friend reach for hers under the pool, and her rage abated suddenly.
“Faun…what the fuck is this?”
They were both sitting together at the edge of the Albion pool, under the watchful eyes of five female Druids who shared the bathing chamber at the back of the great hall with them. Fauna, ever bashful, kept her hand close to her chest.
“Faun, you ain’t got nothing I haven’t seen before. Relax, huh?”
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The Hopla giggled slightly. “That’s my line,” she said.
Tara sighed, soaking into the pool, admitting to herself that the waters were calming even as she cursed herself for the memory coming to the forefront of her consciousness.
“I fucked up, didn’t I?”
Fauna blinked. “No,” she said. “No one thinks that.”
The Minxit scoffed, “I’m guessing that Ethan thinks these guys are here to help us. Look, if he’s behind them, I’ll back him, but I’m not gonna apologize for wanting to slit a human’s throat.”
“Nobody expects you to.”
“And I’m guessing that our illustrious leader made you come here to look after me, didn’t he? Because I freaked out back there, and you’re a calming influence. You’re supposed to make me chill the fuck out.”
Fauna glanced towards her friend. “Is it…working?”
Tara rolled her eyes, then sank down to her chin. “…yeah.”
They sat for a while, watching the operations of the Druids as they collected some of the water, trundled it away in baskets, or bathed in its warm embrace. Some of the humanoid wood-men, the Drytchlings, even started wandering over to share the water with them, bringing their young saps along with them who paddled and splashed about, crying in alien, croaky joy.
“I ain’t ever gonna understand them, Faun,” Tara said. “Humans.”
“They probably feel the same way about us.”
“Only because they’ve been taught to,” the Minxit retorted. “We’ve actually seen what they are capable of. They killed your family, Faun. Even you’ve seen i-“
“The Greycloaks killed my family,” Fauna corrected suddenly, with feeling. “It’s them who are the enemy, Tara. It’s them who’ve always been the enemy.”
Tara looked at her friend then, shocked by the candor in her usually frail voice. Fauna blushed, and sank down, forming bubbles on the water’s surface as she realized what she’d said, and how she’d said it.
But to her surprise, Tara just lay the back of her head against the side of the pool and laughed.
“You really ain’t the same bunny girl that started this journey, huh?” she said. “I remember when you used to stutter every second word that came outta your mouth. Now, here you are, a badass little spellcaster who knows exactly what she’s fightin’ for. And here I am, still just as fucked up as ever. You’d almost think I hadn’t learned anything, right?”
Tara stopped for a second, watching the little Drytchlings paddle in the pond, making tiny waves with their claws and looking up at their parents for approval.
“Maybe I haven’t,” she said. “Maybe the Archon should’ve swapped me out for a less damaged Minxit ages ago. I mean, what the fuck must he think of me now?”
For a few moments, Tara felt more alone than she’d felt in an age. She let her words hang in the air, as thick and heavy as the steam rolling up in a dense sheet from the hot water around them.
And then, suddenly, she felt Fauna’s head knock against her body.
“Well…I think you’re pretty great.”
The word ‘cringe’ was a word Ethan had taught her – and she wanted to bellow it so much at that moment that not doing so almost killed her.
But she didn’t. Instead, Tara let her own head fall against her sister’s, and they both sat together in the waters of the Albion, listening to eachothers’ hearts and remembering what they were really fighting for.
…
Malak led Ethan and Klax to the very center of the Albion, where two of his Druid brothers were waiting with Drytchling guards besdie them.
“It’s time,” the old man said.
The aged brothers moved aside (honestly, everyone and everything in this place was old beyond all reason) and revealed an opening in the bark of the tree. Malak, Klax and Ethan stepped through into the hollow of the tree, a great void filled with nothing but uncanny darkness.
Then, something rose from the floor.
The ground shook, and for a moment Ethan made ready to unsheathe Greybane, thinking old Malak had just lured them into a trap, but Sys’ senses told him otherwise.
Ethan, Sys said. Look…
In the center of the tree’s innards a bulky creature was rising – its height stretching up to the first branches of the Albion itself. It’s broad shoulders hunched, shaking off excess dirt from its thick oaken limbs as though it had been getting ready for this occasion for its entire life. Its hollow eyes fixed on Ethan and its mouth opened in a dull roar that showed rows of bark-encrusted teeth that, just like the claws that stretched themselves out at the end of the creature’s arms, looked like they could tear clean through the flesh of any man before he could do anything to stop it. It’s massive chest opened to reveal a living core of light – a blazing honeycomb heart that filled the bowels of the tree in luminescence, like a thousand fireflies dazzling the forests of the night. And its feet ended in two bulky stumps which it promptly stamped on the ground, announcing itself to its visitors.
Then, to Ethan’s surprise, it knelt before him.
Drytchling Prime
LVL 100
HP: 1500/1500
His little Salamandrike Host suddenly felt psychologically dominated by this beast…
“I think we all know what it wants,” Klax said, a smirk flickering across his face.
Malak nodded at the creature, bowing in veneration. “The Child of the Albion has one purpose,” he said. “To await the day of your coming, and to be your weapon against the Red Mage. The one who calls himself…Haylock.”
He said the Doctor’s name like it was tinged with secret power. It was as though here, in the bowels of his great tree, was the only place that name could be said in safety.
“You know our Doctor friend, huh?”
Malak nodded grimly. “He had committed himself to the devastation and twisting of the earth and all things within it,” he growled. “His abominations overrun the city of Sentinel when the Greycloaks stormed Lucent. He has been expanding his…projects, since then. He seeks our forest. He seeks any who resist his touch.”
Malak turned then to Ethan and shivered. His old bones had suddenly gotten just that little bit older.
“You have felt it, haven’t you?” he asked. “The invisible fingers he slips inside your veins.”
I mean, if you say it like that…
But Ethan knew how it felt, all right. He’d remember that feeling till the day he died. He’d remember the terror-stricken faces of his teammates as they were made to attack him.
And he vowed he’d never let it happen again.
“So, you want to help me fight him,” Ethan said simply. “And you’re giving me exactly the right body to fight him with. A bloodless one, and a powerful one.”
The eyes of the Drytchling Prime flicked up at Ethan suddenly. This was, without a doubt, the first time he’d be possessing a Host willingly.
“Will you do it?” Malak asked him cautiously. “Will you put on the mantle of the Albion, and be its champion?”
Ethan looked to Klax who nodded, understanding.
“I didn’t come this far to lose to some sadistic blood mage,” Ethan said as he commanded his Salamandrike to place him on the head of the Drytchling Prime. It was like the crowning ceremony for some new, oaken King of the forest.
And as Ethan gained control of his Host, he realized just how apt that sentiment was:
NEW HOST DETECTED
[Drytchling Prime] LVL 100
HP: 1500/1500
Skill Transfer from prior Host: Skitter [Grade C]
[Core Skills]
Vine Boom (Grade D)
Root March (Grade C)
Barkskin Cuirass (Grade D)
Thorn Hail (Grade C)
Roar (OVERWRITTEN)
Albion Authority (Grade D)
Spirit Cores: 400
The eyes of the Oaken King opened and blazed red, as its mind was filled with the fire of its new master.
“Alright,” Ethan said through its throat. “Let’s wipe the dumb smirk off that good Doctor’s face.”
Iron Lung Writes
The Iron Guild
What do you think of Slice of Life chapters like this one? (2 answers allowed)
