The Keeper of the Grove

by Orkus

A Keeper's Care

The ride Cert endured upon the grand antlers of the deer lasted almost an hour. During that time she had to deal with the breeze brought on by her ride's swift movement, and his head sometimes ducking below some low-hanging branches, but that was about it. The journey was bumpy, but somehow fluent. Fluent enough to eventually grow tired on.

It was soon after she let out her third yawn when his pace began to slow. With Cert's attention regained as soon as she noticed this, the deer entered a particularly dense and dark area of underbrush that was thick enough to prompt the ailing changeling to shield her face from all the copious leaves and occasional twigs scraping at her body with her hooves. When she was sure that it was finally over, the first thing she heard was the deer speaking.

"And here we are," he announced, his words bringing the changeling's eyes open and forward. "This is where you have been attempting to invade with that paltry little band of yours. This is the Sacred Grove of my people."

Cert had to fight to keep her stunned jaw from lowering. Like some of the more scenic areas of the forest she trekked through, the sight that lay before her now was nothing short of incredulous, reeking utterly of something harmonious and untouched by the hooves of civilization. The light of the afternoon sun peaking through the treetops in golden rays, illuminating all there possibly was to be witnessed, including a small, clear stream that ran in a smooth, straight pattern around some of the trees. Trotting forward just a few feet more, the deer of wood came to a stop underneath a haggard old willow with a rather thick, gnarled trunk, bearing long, drooping branches with curtain-like leaves hanging from them. With care in his movement, he knelt down and lowered his head at the tree's base. The changeling took her time departing from his antlers, but as she left, she had a question to give.

"Who... who are you, exactly? A guardian of some kind?" she spoke, touching down upon the fertile soil and the lush, green grass growing out of it.

"I am the Keeper," he said, his tone firm and proud. "I maintain my grove with unwavering vigilance and the utmost of passions. I keep it safe from any sort of threat that has a chance to disrupt the peace within it. Threats like you and your retinue of odd, pony-shaped bugs."

While fixating her half-paralyzed self upon the floor of the grove properly, Cert took the chance to scoff at his description of her kind. "What, never seen a changeling before?"

"I am afraid I have not," was his reply. "I've met plenty of ponies. I've encountered burly yaks. I was once even paid a visit by a somewhat queer-mannered lizard-person. But a changeling? Your kind, wherever you originated from, have never once stepped into these woods until now. You are the first I've spoken to."

After a few still seconds passed, a low humming sound next rumbled from within his throat, telling Cert that another question was brimming on his own mind right before he voiced it. "Satisfy my curiosity if you may, but what does the name 'changeling' even mean? Do you change things in any way? I ask only because it resembles the name of some creatures from folklore."

"Um... it's complicated," Cert spoke, seeing that he apparently knew nothing about how changelings could shapeshift. Truth be told, neither she, nor her soldiers had bothered to change forms since entering the forest. They gained what information they knew about how to reach the deer's sacred grove she was now sitting in by spying upon them from a distance before pulling aside lone ones that went out foraging for food. "And I don't feel so well discussing complex matters right now," she went on, finishing what she had to say in a sore voice.

"Fair enough," nodded the Keeper. He was about to take a much closer look at the injuries she suffered, but he noticed a few certain objects were in the way. "If I am to tend to you properly, may you please remove your armor?"

Cert complied to his request only after a few seconds of thinking it over, rolling her teal eyes as she did so. Using her forehooves, she pulled off her helmet, followed by the rest of her gear. When the last piece of her armor was off and levitated into a pile nearby with the use of her magic, the Keeper had himself a clear look at Cert's hairless, chitinous form in full. One of the first things he spotted during the observation was the ragged remnants of her left ear, which came as a small surprise to him.

"Your... ear," he spoke with as much politeness as he could muster. "That looks like a most nasty wound to have suffered through."

"Battles promise wounds," Cert grunted, settling herself down upon her chest and twitching what little there was of the ear in question. "I've gained my share of them."

"Well, then I should focus on the wounds you have now, yes?" he smiled, clearly attempting to make a friendly jest before his expression became slightly more serious. "I shall return in but a moment." Standing up again, the deer trotted away, from the willow Cert laid under, through the shallow stream and into the depths of the grove. When he returned around a minute later, he had several clumps of crimson-tinted, grass-like stuff in his mouth. He dropped them upon the ground together, and believing him to be simply gathering plants he was going to use as medicine, Cert huffed and looked away to the part of the grove ahead of herself. Roughly several seconds later she chanced a more curious look back in the Keeper's direction, only to see the knelt-down deer had just one of the reddish clumps in the fore of his maw, and was a mere inch away from touching the wounds in her side with it.

"Wah- hey, hey!" she shouted in an alarmed tone, stopping his advance by shooting a leg forward and landing it on his his nose. "What in the heck is-"

"Blood moss," calmly spoke the Keeper from one corner of his mouth, the other part still holding the clump steadily in clenched teeth. He shook his head in a quick motion, knocking her hoof from his snout, where it fell back down to the changeling's side. The deer next placed down the piece of moss again, as to speak more freely. "This is what my people call blood moss. It has many other names, but that one is most commonly used. Because of its color, mostly."

"And you were seconds from letting that stuff touch my body... why, exactly?" Cert's tone sounded absolutely livid.

"To help heal you," he steadily answered. "When pressed to wounds that have been caused by the venomous, albeit nonlethal defensive hairs of a great stinging nettle, the special substances held within blood moss nullifies the plant's toxins running through the body, if properly applied. It helps one to recover leagues past what the natural duration rate of the sting is."

"And how long is that, then?" Cert huffed, haughtiness heavy in her tone. "A few days? An entire week? I could handle being like this that long."

"You would be without feeling and use in the lower portion of your body for nearly an entire year if left untreated." His response was as blunt as a falling rock, and for Cert, it had all of the impact of one. Her grimace holding and fanged mouth opening, she was about to spit out another argument she could have with him that was against it, but was immediately beset upon by the fact that there was nothing she could use as fuel for such a clash. Her mouth soon reluctantly closed and she turned away, cursing under her breath.

"You know what? Fine! Fine..." she groused, folding her forehooves in front of her and laying her chin upon them, her face twisted into a contemptuous frown. "Do whatever it is you need to do with that... stuff. But I swear on Queen Chrysalis' mane, if it hurts even the slightest bit..."

"It will not hurt," he told her. "Point of fact, it will feel very relieving -- assuming changelings react to its application as well as deer do."

Cert heard him well, though she pretended not to. The scowling, sardonic look she put next on told him that she understood, but was not very reassured. Shrugging, the Keeper picked up the piece of moss from before into his mouth again and brought it to the area where she had been stung earlier in the day. Cert winced back as he started his treatment upon her injuries, the minuscule wounds themselves still feeling like singeing embers leftover from the inferno of torment that was the strike from the needles' initial impact. But the moment the moss touched her chitinous flesh, it was not pain she felt. No, far from it.

What she felt was... pleasant. Yes, extraordinarily pleasant. And it was so great in its unexpectedly wonderful magnitude that her stiffened and tense joints loosened like an unfastened sail in a powerful gale to the level of alleviation and gratification she experienced from it. The searing pleasure. The sweet... release from all she had to withstand since this accursed and disastrous trek of hers began. For but a fragile moment she felt like letting out a mighty moan from the delightfully warm feelings rolling all over and throughout her weary body, but for the sake of keeping the creature beside her from hearing it, she held it in.

It was as the rubbing of the moss was entering its fifteenth, splendid minute when the Keeper pulled the spent piece away and dropped it to the side, staring down next at the remaining pieces he had brought along. Before he picked one up and began again though, he wanted to ask the changeling something while she was still lucid enough to answer. "From what I could gather, your accomplices called you 'Captain Cert'. And yet, I feel as though 'Cert' may not be your full name. It is far too..." he paused for a second, looking for the right word, "...Simple. Yes, much too simple. Tell me, is this the truth, small creature?"

Going silent for a moment and entering deep thought upon coming to her more stable senses, Cert replied to his query soon enough. "We changelings aren't really known for having anything less than simple names. But... to be honest, my name's... Certiorari. Certiorari Brittle," she mumbled upon eventually giving in to his question, if only to keep her captor from delving further into the matter and get back to the spectacular sensation that was his usage of the blood moss on her wounds. "That's my full name, but I much rather prefer to be called Cert."

One of the Keeper's brows lifted in interest. "Why simply 'Cert'? Certiorari is a lovely name."

She huffed at his compliment, lifting her head from the ground, if only briefly, so she could shift a dry glance his way. "Because I like it short. It's easier for other changelings to pronounce. And it's just... just better."

"There are other reasons, are there not?" the deer inferred as his patient parted her loosened front legs, deciding to bring her chin down onto the surface of the soft grass below them instead. "Care to tell?"

"What concern of it is yours?" Her words came out in an annoyed murmur. "My reasons are my own. Why don't you stop talking and get back to... that thing you were just doing."

"The thing you were once so unenthusiastic to experience?"

"Yeah..." begrudgingly spoke Cert. "That. It felt... nice."

"Fair enough," sighed the deer, picking the new clump of blood moss up into his mouth. Fully focusing back onto his task, he rubbed the moss over the areas of the wounds he had not gotten to as good as with the last one. Cert could not help but give off a quiet, soothed purr as she felt the Keeper's gentle touch once more, and the horrid stinging that remained from where those spikes had hit her mollified further after but a short while.

A pleased hum left the Keeper in turn as he heard the changeling, very happy with himself that he was able to conciliate the gruff being. Cert could hear him too, and cared not about it, just so long as she could keep feeling his soft touch. With some reluctance she eventually opened her now-drooping eyelids, determined not to let herself fall asleep. And what she then caught in her line of sight awoke her fully. It took her a few seconds for her vision to adapt, but when it did her mirthful expression faded.

Just past the stream and peeking through the dark fold of several branches, were several sets of glowing eyes. The eyes were many, wide, and large - highlighted like lights from the inky blackness surrounding them. Golden-amber in color, they blinked several times as they watched Cert like lurking predators observing their prey. She could swear she heard some form of high-pitched chittering coming from their direction, nearly, but not fully indistinguishable from the sounds of the chirping insects all around, and in that instant her instincts forced her into full, startled awareness.

"What... what are those?" she demanded to know, pointing a hoof in their direction. Upon realizing that they had been spotted, whatever the creatures were made a few final sounds to one another and vanished into the grove. This only served to pique Cert's worry further, as any could see by her sudden fidgeting. Stopping again in his work, the Keeper placed a delicate hoof to the changeling's shoulder as it happened to calm her, if only slightly.

"Those?" he soon said, shifting one of his eyes over his shoulder and observing the last of the shadow-cloaked beings departing. "They are saplings. It was not my choice to name them, it is what they chose to call themselves. They were here, living within and protecting this grove long before I came along."

Using his hoof to press her slowly back to the earth, he gave off a small chuckle as Cert's ears lowered with the last of her guard after a short while. "They may be fierce when they believe themselves or this grove to be threatened, but worry not about them. I have told them as we were coming here that you are not to be harmed, but tended to. They shan't lay a hoof or leaf upon you."

He went back to tending to Cert, but this time Cert kept her eyes fully open. She ignored the feelings of the blood moss for now, instead focusing on what she had just witnessed. Seeking more than anything now to get her mind off of them, she tried to start a new conversation.

"What kind of creature are you, Keeper?" she questioned, her tone bearing a hint of true interest. "You're made of wood, but you look like a deer. You say you have power over this forest, but if I'm not mistaken, deer are incapable of performing sorcerous magic of any kind. How is this possible? How are you possible?"

Giving off a thoughtful expression to this query for but a moment, a great, long, and smug grin stretched out over his snout, aching oh-so much of harmless cruelty. "I give my sincerest apologies, but my reasons are... my own."

Cert was unamused by the beast of wood mirroring her use of the words prior, but there was little she could do against it. "They are, I suppose," was her next mutter. "But there's also something else I want to find out."

The Keeper's expression faded back to what it was prior and his brow cocked at this. "And what is it you wish to know now?"

"The source of my mission," she flatly responded. "I came here on that mission from my queen to find a mystical type of sap that supposedly comes from a single tree, said to be as ancient as the world itself. The sap... the tree... it's all true?"

"The sap? Yes, of course it exists. And what you have heard about it being from but a single, venerated tree is indeed true. The Great Tree lives at the very heart of this grove we now lay in."

"And its sap can cure any ailment, correct?"

"Yes, it can," gladly confirmed the deer.

"Then why don't you just use that on me?" Cert's hole-filled hooves tugged at some of the grass laying in front of her, but not hard enough to pull the vibrant green blades from the ground. "You could just give some to me and send me on my way. That would be that, right?"

Another hum, lower in its pitch, left the Keeper. "I am afraid that I cannot do anything of that sort."

"And why's that?" The rest of her movement stopping, one of Cert's brows arched, confused.

"Because it is against my duty. My sacred duty to my people and this grove we revere. The only one who can retrieve the sap now is yourself, and even then I doubt you have what it takes to earn it."

Cert exhaled a stale breath, frustration welling up within her. "And why, pray tell, is that?" she came again, aching for an answer that made sense.

"Because even if one of dark intentions should somehow surpass myself and all that I send at them, there is still a final trial that lays in their path before they can claim the life-sap: the Great Tree itself, from which the Sacred Amber originates," the Keeper said, his voice monotonous and completely without the joyful emotion he seemed to radiate. "It remains closed and sealed, its bark impenetrable by any physical or mystical means. Only those it deems worthy can hope to actually gain entry into its bowels and tap from its very heart."

"Is that so?" Though quiet for a second, a full laugh soon escaped from Cert. "Well, in that case, should I ever get the chance to see the tree for myself after I heal from this poison, I'm sure that I'll pass its... what'd you say it was? A test of worth? I've proven my worth to my queen and my hive many times."

"Is that so?" echoed the deer, a toothy, mocking smirk forming on his mouth. "If that day does come, then I wish unto you the best of luck. I truly do."

"I'm sure..." puffed the changeling. Finding all the information she needed (for now), Cert relaxed herself as best as she could when she prepared to receive more care from him. "But enough about that for now. Back to work, Keeper."

Upon hearing the order given by his guest in a tone containing nothing short of arrogance, the Keeper could find only amusement, and he cherished it immensely as he went back to his solicitous tending. An hour passed them by at a steady crawl and the last rays of sunlight had been replaced by a silver curtain of moonlight during that time. As darkness crept in, fireflies began to come out, their abdomens lighting up every few seconds like stray embers from a campfire. When the Keeper's rubbing slowed and eventually ceased a final time, it was clear to the weary Cert that he was getting ready to leave. What he was going to do after discarding all the used blood moss clumps, she didn't know. Before he had a chance to even stand, she decided again to talk, if only to learn one more, biting thing before he had the chance to part.

"Why... did you choose to bring me here? To heal me, even in spite of viewing me as a threat to your tree?" inquired the changeling, now lacking any form of sarcasm or peevishness in her words.

To this, the Keeper was still for several moments until his reply came. "As I said once to you before, I am compassionate. Wicked or otherwise, I prefer not to actually kill potential invaders, lest they prove themselves to be beyond forgiveness. With your long-gone allies as my evidence, I would much rather frighten them off. But should dauntless ones like yourself become terribly wounded in the following skirmish, I allow them to limp back to the nearest village for aid with their tails tucked between their legs. However, given how I witnessed you and your fellows treat some of my people with intimidation in order to reach our most hallowed place, I do not think they would welcome you so warmly."

"So... I guess that means I'll just have to heal up here then, huh?" Cert's expression was no longer hard and glaring, but simply passive. She then shrugged, "Very well then... I guess it could have been worse. Far worse..."

"It will take just a tad less than a full score of days for you to fully recover from the nettle's poison," the Keeper went on, using a cloven hoof to brush away the spent blood moss from his guest. "I assure you Cert, you will be back upon your legs by that time, so long as I am able to apply blood moss to your wounds every day. But such a method of renewal also requires ample rest." He stood up next, evident to Cert enough that he was indeed about to leave her side. "And with that, may you sleep well, changeling. I will let you be until the morning comes."

Bowing his antlered head, the deer turned himself around and began heading back to the inner folds of the grove in a light and graceful trot, traveling beyond the stream and disappearing behind the cluster of trees within seconds. Cert was left alone under the willow tree, and only now did she fully realize a chorus of crickets and other creatures were sounding about, each one's loud, chirping music like that of a fantastic, lulling instrument. The sense of paranoia over the 'saplings' she witnessed was long gone, if only because the Keeper told her they wouldn't harm her. Though she knew excruciatingly little of him, if anything at all, his given word was... enough. Enough to trust, but not enough to keep her from feeling the incomparable, pulling desire of fulfilling her objective.

Cert's horned head lowered upon the grass and she pulled her forehooves in for extra warmth in spite of the ample heat of the summer night. Even as her eyelids closed and she succumbed to the allure of sleep, the changeling was planning on how she could possibly deal with the Keeper of the Sacred Grove. Even if he was a mighty sentinel with the power to manipulate nature, and even with the near-omniscient abilities the forest itself afforded to him, there had to be some sort of flaw with him. Some kind of weakness that could be exploited for her own benefit on the matter. It was clear that he hadn't told her everything about himself, but if she were somehow able to goad, if not directly pry that information out, it would become his most assured downfall.

There was zero chance she would leave this forest empty-hoofed come the time she fully healed, and there was no fathomable way she would return to the hive with only a fantastic story to show for all of this. She would get that sap for her queen at all costs, and the Keeper who had so very kindly taken her in was the key she needed to make that goal a reality.

If there was one thing Cert knew, even half-paralyzed and slowly nodding off to the beat of sleep's song within this life-filled grove, it was that a changeling, no matter how badly injured, was still built to manipulate others...

Comments

[Mythril_Miner]

It appears that there is a larger story behind you work, seeing as Cert Shares the name Brittle with another special changeling..