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// The Debater 
// Story: Up Through the Roots 
// by RangerOfRhudaur 
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She saw Obyrn and Robin scheming together, weaving enchantments to confound their enemies and tactics to conquer them. But then Robin was pierced by a shaft of light, and Obeyrn fell shortly afterwards.

She saw great cities under the mountains, khitin and Men laughing and trading together. But the khitin delved deeper and deeper, and the Men stayed up top, and they traded and laughed less and less. Eventually, the silent cities closed and sealed their gates for the final time.

She saw Peregrine and Rosalinda, pledging their fidelity to each other with soft smiles in a hidden eyrie. She watched them ride to war, sweeping down from the mountains to drive bandits into the Sea. And she teared up as Rosalinda wept, holding her husband's broken form, before charging into the fray with a bloodcurdling scream and joining him in death.

Men and other creatures, working together and thriving, before separating and decaying. The example repeated time and time again, and every time it went the same way; friendship between races grew, blossomed, withered, and died, along with many of the gains that friendship had earned. Together they lived, apart they died.

"Why are you showing me this?" she murmured to whatever was showing her the visions.

A tree larger than any she'd ever seen sprang up out of the ground before her, boles and knots seeming to make a face in it; eyes sleeping behind bole lids, a gently sloping nose, slightly parted lips of varnished wood. It was beautiful, and terrible, like a snake; those lips, which Wallflower would envy on another human, were prepared to give the order for her destruction without hesitation, she knew somehow.

A voice left the lips and burrowed into Wallflower's brain, impossibly ancient and fair and strong and hard. She fell to the ground, clutching her ears, as it boomed in her mind, "Those powers to which Men such as thee show thy favour prosper mightily, until that favour be withdrawn. None know why, and none know how, it is only known that it is so. We have studied you from afar, Wallflower Blush, and have found in thee a Man after our own heart; thou lovest the trees and green things of the world almost as much as we do, and thou care for them even as we shepherd our flocks. We propose an alliance with thee, as there was twixt Obyrn and Robin of infinite mischief long ago; thou will grant us thy favour, while we shall grant thee our's, as our champion."

"I'm," she grunted in reply, shakily rising to her feet. "no champion, I wasn't even before the wolf attacked me."

"Thou seest with the eyes of the world, half-blind," the voice scorned, driving her back to her knees. "Thou mayst not be well-muscled or wind-swift, but a champion needs not these things themselves if they may find it elsewhere, as you may do with your allies. Thou possess many allies, and our favour will grant thee more; no green thing will refuse thy call shouldst thou accept our favour, and neither will aught that subsist upon them. Let others grant their favours to the strong and the swift; we would grant our's to she would be their master."

"I'm not a champion," she insisted, trying to rise again. "and I'm definitely not a master."

"Thou art bold or full of cheek to lie so baldly to us," the voice replied. "Thou art the Sun and rain to many a thing of green, with the withdrawal of thy favour from them harming them just as the withdrawal of Robin's favour by death harmed Obyrn. What is the proper title for one whose actions are of such import, whose favour is of such necessity, but master?"

"A master of grass and flowers," Wallflower snorted. "Yeah, really scary."

"Mock not the grass," almost forced her to the floor again. "'Twas a lesson hard-learned, and well. Thou command the grass; dost thou not, then, command that which lives upon the grass? And if thou command them, dost thou not also command that which relies on them in turn? Thou command the grass, and so too the cow, and so too the wolf, and so too that which scrounges from the wolf's leavings. The world is in the bole of thy branches, if thou but stretch them out. Give us thy favour and we shall aid thee in spreading those branches. Thou shalt want naught if thou dost; the years shalt pass thee by, the Sun and dew shalt be thy bread and wine, and wherever dwellest green thou shalt have dominion. This and more shalt rain down upon thee like the morning dew, if thou but grant us thy favour and receive our's in turn."

"'The more that is promised,'" Wallflower retorted. "'the less shall be given. Demons promise much, but promises are all they give.'"

"I am no demon," almost split her head open. "In elder days, their kind feared my realm, treading carefully about it or, if need pressed them, with great fear through it. Thou speakest ill of that which is fairer than your thought, and dare to name that which wisdom bids keep silent. Thou art a fool, Wallflower Blush, a fool we have great need of. There is much thou needst learn before thou bears our favour, and not much time to learn it in."

"What are you talking about?" Wallflower weakly asked, clutching her throbbing head.

"Magic returns, and much else with it. Soon, the hour shall be ripe for our return, but others will return with us; we can sense them, prowling about thy tame little land. The folk of Obyrn remember the death of their laird and ready to make anew war upon thee and thy kin, while the Fair-Folk are not as numerous or valiant as they once were. But most of all, we sense those thou foolishly named, the coldshades, the everhates. They discern a weakness in this realm, and make ready to exploit it so far as they are able. They have put on guises and tempted others of the tribes, even some of those who stood with us against them once before, so that they may wage even greater war against those who stand against them. The storm comes, Wallflower Blush, and Everfree cannot withstand it alone. We need thou to be our champion, our ally against the Shadow in all its myriad forms; wilt thou be so?"

"I," Wallflower sighed. "I don't know. Why not ask Sunset Shimmer, she's better at this magic stuff than I am."

"Sunset Shimmer has her own part to play; what it is none have seen, only that it is. All shall soon be forced to choose, Wallflower Blush, either to stand with the Shadow or against it; there shall be no middle ground and no retreat. All will have their part to play, and this is not Sunset Shimmer's. Again I ask, will it be your's?"

"Will I," she hesitantly asked. "will I be able to stop after whatever's coming's over?"

"Our favour is not a scrap of silk to be worn and discarded at leisure," hissed inside her head. "It is a mantle to be worn so long as thou shalt live, as the wings are of a butterfly; a butterfly does not return to the form of a caterpillar or a chrysalis. Thou shalt metamorphose under our favour, Wallflower Blush, and metamorphosis may not be undone."

She bit her lip. "What if I say no?"

"Then we shalt know thee for a fool, and send thee to thy home to await thy inevitable death. Thou shalt not return to thy previous existence, whether thou accept our favour or no; either thou shalt grow outside of thy old form or thou shalt freeze entombed by it."

She took a deep breath, then released it. "Will your 'favour' give me back my voice?" she asked hopefully.

"Thou shalt speak the tongue of every green thing," came the reply. "but not from thy throat; no sound shalt issue from there again. It is beyond our powers to heal."

She hung her head, but then raised it again in determination; Sunset wouldn't let a little thing like getting her voice torn out stop her, so she wouldn't, either. "Okay, Everfree," she called out in a bold voice. "I accept your offer."

"Thou art proving thyself to be not as great a fool as we'd feared," Everfree replied, clearly pleased. "but there is still much for thee to learn. Speak to the Green-Warden, and she will begin your tutelage. For now, fare thee well, Wallflower Blush, and prepare; winter approaches, and if we fail it shalt never part."

"No pressure," she mumbled, and then she awoke. Once more, she felt the scars maiming her throat, and silently sighed; another thing for her to learn, better nonverbal communication.

An open bark-clad hand came into view. Confused, she looked up to see Stumper smiling at her, hand outstretched and green eyes beaming. "Welcome to Gaea Everfree's service," she rumbled. "I'm the Green-Warden, but you can call me Stumper like my friend does."

Wallflower smiled back at her, and shook the sturdy hand.

"Now that introductions are out of the way," Stumper sighed, retracting her hand. "there's the matter of your education. Everfree told me what she wanted you to learn, so let's get started. We've got a lot of ground to cover. First, though," she turned around and picked up a small bowl filled with some green slime and a small, crude brush. "we're going to have to give you what my friend says you'd call 'a makeover.' Personally, I prefer to think of it as a metamorphosis, a butterfly spreading new, beautiful wings."

That it can never get rid of, Wallflower thought, biting her lip, as Stumper dipped the brush into the bowl.