//------------------------------// // Book 7: Temptation I // Story: The Holy Covenant of the Triumvirate // by rathgood //------------------------------// Book 7: Temptation I The little lies we tell ourselves can be twisted and will bare dark fruit. Temptation of the Earth. The conflict with the wryms had shown the tribe that they could put aside their differences and unite for a common goal. It also showed them that they still had a penchant for great violence. They had let rage fill their hearts and in doing so had prepared to destroy an entire race. Had the divine intervention of the three sisters not adverted the war, many would have perished. Whole villages, whole cities would have fallen. Most of the tribes people understood and accepted the ceasefire. Many more welcomed the return of peace and the return of normality. Even those who lost family to the accident welcomed it. Or so they told themselves. They embraced the lie they told themselves to make the hurt and loss go away. The most hurt of these were the earth-born. They had comprised most of the settlers who had died to the wyrms. Also, like the plants they tended, they planted deep roots and to them, family was everything. Bonds of blood tied everyone of them together and such bonds do not end at death. The mark each of them makes on their family and friends stays with each forever. Death is a natural part of life, they all know it, but premature, unnatural death is not. With such strong bonds, the gapping wounds left by such losses grows larger than with the other groups. The sudden and unfulfilling end to the conflict caused these wounds to fester, rotting them from the inside out. They lied to themselves, to staunch the pain, to lesson the grief. The forest saw of these lies and smiled. It could not act directly, as that would attract the attention of the sisters, attention it was not ready for. The tender was not ready to play his hand. He needed time to finish preparing his chariot and to prepare soldiers of his own. This opening however, was to good to pass up. Here he could weaken those that would oppose him. Here he could bolster his own forces. Here he would get to play a game, one to alleviate the boredom he so hated. Here he could use the earth-born's connection to the plants; the gift granted to them by the All-Seeing; to touch their minds. To find a herald, to lead a flock to him. Reaching out the roots of the forest, he touched the roots of the plants being tended by the mourning. These in turn spread his influence to the workers tending the fields. He dug deep into the minds, looking for purchase. Looking for a crack to break into their mind and plant his seed. He found fertile fields in the mind of one of them. One who had lost all his family in the event. One who had been away when it happened. One who blamed himself for not being there and dyeing with them. This earth-born would work. The tender planted the seed of a memory. A memory of a story told to him when he was young by his mother. A story of a spring, deep in the forest, whose waters when drank would grant ones heart's desire. The story he remembered well now. It was his favorite growing up and one he wondered how he'd forgotten. One the earth-born now wished to share with the others who still hurt. Perhaps together they could find this spring and ease their pain. Maybe the waters could fill the void left in them by the Wrym's attack. So he gathered the people and spoke to them. The forest fed powers of persuasion into its new herald, to move the hearts of the others. "Brothers and sisters of the Earth, hear me now. We all lost ones to the unprovoked attack of the wryms, we all have voids which need filling. I have come before you today to recount a story my late mother told me when I was a youngling. One that might lead us to salvation from the pain." The assembled crowd murmured. "Deep in the great forest, ever free from the touch and control of our people lies a spring of purest water. In its water blooms flowers, pink of head and green of stem. Under the glare of the moon they absorb the dreams of those around, growing more vibrant. On the new moon, when no light is to be had the plants die, imparting their seeds and essence into the waters. Those that seek the desires of the heart need but drink this imbued water and all their dreams will open up before them." The tender touched some in the crowd through these words and they in turn believed that the story had been recounted to them in the past. They added their own words to the speech and like a plague it spread from one to the other, the lies became truth to the group. "It is this spring that I propose we seek on the new moon. Alone the dreams of one might not suffice, but together, all of our dreams could combine and bring forth a miracle. One that could return our loved ones to us!" The infected crowd cheered and plans were laid to seek out the spring. They spread out across the land, moving in small groups, surrounding the forest. Each small group would go forth into the forest, from every angle, this way they would find the spring. The smaller groups they had agreed would also reduce the chance they would be noticed and someone would interfere. Using trained birds to send messages when the spring was found, they would converge and wait for the new moon. A week before the new moon they set out from all sides. Intent on their goal. The forest welcomed this new flock with open arms, restraining his minions and other beasts that dwelled within his realm, to keep them safe. He led his herald straight to the spring. A spring cast to look like pure water, but instead was tainted with the tender's very essence. The herald arrived three days prior to the new moon and dispatched the messenger birds to assemble the group. With in two days the masses arrived, welcomed to the paradise the tender manifested for them. They feasted for the day, in celebration to the coming new moon. Shrouded from the gaze of the sun by the foliage, the sisters were blind to the meeting. Night came and the other eye of the All-Seeing closed, once again blinding the sisters to what would transpire this night. As the story told, the flowers in the spring died and the water became stained pinkish red by their power. The water now resembled blood. Taking the chalices they brought with them, the assembled earth-born filled them and passed them around. When all was served, they drank deep of the water. The bile they actually drank had been sweetened by the tender with their own lies. The essence of the forest flowed through them, they all saw their loved ones faces before them, welcoming them back. They all died there on the spot. They all rose shortly there after, reborn by the forest. Now twice as large, four times as strong, and no longer alive their very breath froze the air. They were no longer earth-born. They were now chaos-born, soldiers of the forest and its tender. The herald was larger by far then any of them and was named by their dark master the leader. Combined they roared into the night, unrestrained rage against the sisters and their matron. The tender laughed deep at what he had accomplished. More pawns to replace the slain wrym. He selected the strong from among the flock to join him eternally. They welcomed the full ascension. Roots ripped from the ground, surrounding the willing sacrifices and merged their bodies with that of the ebon wrym. Building their strength into the body. Complimenting it, further completing it. One down, five to go. Soon. Soon he would be free. Soon he would show the sisters how powerless they truly are. When the twilight retreated and the sun dawned the next day, the paradise grove they had seen was now a fetid pit of the damned. The spring was no more, in its place was a darkened cave, spiraling down into the bowels of the earth. Beckoned by the uniting voice in their heads, the herald led the chaos-born into the lair of chaos, the den of Entropy. Here they would train, away from the prying eyes of the three. Here they would master their new gifts. Here they would plan how to spread this ascension to the others in the tribe. Weather and magic would join them, compliment them, and make the master whole. Some would not remain. Taking into them a portion of the tender’s powers, they raised an illusion that only the sisters could purge. An illusion of how they looked prior to the gifting. These scouts would go forth and return to the Harmony tribe. There, the chaos-born would recruit others to join the cause. In the bastion of the sisters, the Twilight felt an unease come over her. More attuned to the natural balance than her older sisters, she could feel the subtle shift, but paid it no mind. To her, further strengthening the bonds forged by the wrym incident came first. If the Earth-born, Magic-born, and Weather-born could come together like that in a time peace, they would be unbreakable. On that point the three aspects had agreed. However, as in the past, they could not come to an accord at how to present themselves to the harmony tribe. The direct interaction of the Twilight to resolve the looming war had been the right action, but now, more than ever, the people saw them as guardians; as sacred beings; as goddesses made flesh. Some had taken to worshipping them like the tribes from before the sundering had worshipped the All-Seeing. They stood at a crossroads, unsure of what they should do. But having revealed themselves, do something they must. The remaining members of the original Harmony tribe, the ones who had not integrated themselves into the new tribe. Those that had stayed on as their distant family and as their hereditary guards would do what the sisters could not. They sent some of their members outwards, to begin to talk of the sisters and of the All-seeing.