Up Through the Roots

by RangerOfRhudaur

The Dreamer

The cave was slate-grey, faintly lit by luminescent fungi that crept along the walls. The air was clear and cool and still, silently treading across the rocky floor. Roots reached down from the low ceiling, gnarling down like stalactites and burrowing into the walls. She could see a hole in the wall opposite her, possibly leading to another cave or a tunnel, though the darkness beyond made it impossible for her to tell. A spring-fed pool gurgled to her right, and on her left-

"Done with that part," Stumper grunted, rolling her shirt back down and helping cool her blush a few degrees. "Sorry about that, but it had to be done. Everfree's favour might not have taken root otherwise."

Wallflower nodded, then looked down at her arms; painted green vines traced up and down them now, occasionally bursting into flower-like symbols. The vines traced through her knuckles, eventually merging into two great Sun-like symbols that burned in the palms of her hands. The pattern continued over her back and chest, she knew, though she'd done her best to look away and not think about it while Stumper had painted them; she was uncomfortable wearing short-sleeved clothes, the thought of someone else seeing her sad, lifeless skin causing her to burn up in shame: the thought of someone having to work with it like Stumper had was basically her worst nightmare come to life. Stumper understood, though, and she'd managed to finish it quickly, something for which Wallflower now mutely thanked her with as much gratitude as she could muster.

"Almost done," the Green-Warden told her, filling her brush again. "All that's left now is the face. Try to hold still, please, I don't know what will happen if I mess up the symbols."

Wallflower nodded, then tried to set her face like stone, the way she'd always set it before she'd met Sunset; mouth slightly dragged down, eyes half-closed, don't expect their gazes to do anything other than fall right through you, you're invisible, you're not there, you're invisible, Wallflower Blush, nothing you do will change that-

"Done," Stumper nodded, lifting her brush off Wallflower's cheek with a flourish. "Just give it a moment and it should start working."

She raised a brow; start working and doing what? Then she felt a tingling against her skin. Looking down, she saw the vines begin to light up, light tracing its way up from her hands. "Don't worry," Stumper reassured her as she frantically tried to shake the glowing off. "Everything will be fine. Just let Everfree's magic flow and all will become clear."

She looked back at Stumper, scared, but felt herself calm somewhat as she saw the Green-Warden's smiling face.

Then the light reached the symbols blossoming around her eyes, and she gasped as her mind tore away from her.

***

She saw...

No, that wasn't the right word; she wasn't using her eyes, she didn't have eyes anymore.

She sensed others below her, passing slowly beneath her outstretched limbs. At least, she thought they were passing slowly; she sensed that they were taking one step, stopping shortly, then taking another, though they were still moving much faster than even the swiftest sapling grew. Their felt-and-fur canopies trailed behind them as they moved, though she couldn't sense their colors, and there were bows in their hands.

"What maketh thou of the prophecy?" one of them asked, his voice rattling through her though it was barely louder than her's. "We have our own thoughts, but first we would hear thine."

"We maketh little of it," his companion confessed. "A star fallen across the sea is a mystery not even our poetry reveals, and of the rest we reckon but less. What maketh thee?"

"We maketh the tale of an exile from it," the first replied. "a laird driven by misfortune across the sea, and upon the hither shore founding a new house, one to rule their new kingdom."

"Then thou thinkest the stony tree a familial one?"

"Indeed..." faded away as the two speakers walked away, too far for her to sense. She tried to follow them...

***

...and found herself in the dead of night, cool light streaming down from above.

"Man thou callest thyself," rippled through her, a female voice high in anger and scorn. "but more like a hobgoblin do I reckon thee."

"Wrong art thou, as thou ever are in matters of me, sweet sister," another voice, a male's this time, bristled her. "No hobgoblin is so merry as I, nor Trog so droll, nor deep-laird with so bright an eye. How can I be but merry, I who skip o'er mountains with a click of my heels, who stride ten leagues with a click of my fingers, who hunt those who once hunted me by the side of my fair lord?"

"How canst thou be merry, serving a monster such as he? Thy lord is as cruel as those from whom thou fled, his malice is patent and abundantly displayed, and thou wouldst notice if thou ceased thy follies for but a breath!"

"I can cease no folly," the male's voice fell and chilled. "for I do not indulge in folly. I am merry, sister, but do not think me simple, or overindulgent. My lord has his failings, I shall not deny, but so hast your lady, and her's are none so civilized. Dost thou forget the merry-makers she but recently waylaid?"

"They dared to trespass upon her land, despite ample warning!"

"Just as those my lord slays receive ample opportunities to steer their course away from his righteous sword. I will bother thee no more, Tana; prithee do the same for me, and remember even after I am gone that every Man hath his own wrongs."

There was a rush of wind, and Wallflower was gone again...

***

...and then found herself looking down at a large circle of mushrooms.

There were five figures standing inside, all wearing tightly-wound cloaks of a strange material. It shimmered as they moved, dark grey one moment, pale grey the next, then pitch black. Blue faces peered cautiously out from under their hoods, eyes like a cat's darting around anxiously. All of them held weapons, with more hanging from their belts, bristling with arrows and daggers.

There was a burst of movement out of the corner of her eye, and a bush was torn to shreds by a flight of arrows.

"Quiet," one of them hissed.

"Something was rustling the bushes," one of the archers retorted.

"Everything rustles here," another snorted. "I can't wait 'til we manage to quiet this place."

"And how long will that be?"

"Not long," the first speaker replied, smiling. "Not long at all. The circles are opening, magic's returning, and it sounds like the high-and-mighty aren't. Mark my words, by the next season we'll be able to silence this place for good."

A mist rose up from the mushrooms, and the figures faded away. Before she could try (and, judging by how things had been going, fail) to follow them, a faint sound began ringing in her ears. Turning, she tried to pin down where it was coming from, and what it was; eventually, she discovered that it was coming from somewhere underground, and it was someone playing a flute, quite badly.

Frowning, she tried to follow the music, and found herself in a dark void, completely empty of light. The flute shrilled through it, drilling into her ears, and she swam through the void in pursuit, shivering gently as the warmth fled her.

The flute grew louder, but then fainter, as if she were going the wrong direction. Looking around to see if she could find even a hint of the piper, she felt a chill go down her spine; she saw a spot in the void, little more than a dot at this distance, that was somehow darker than the rest, as if the darkness there was something more than the absence of light. The music seemed to be issuing from there, and every instinct in Wallflower's body was telling her to do the same, to flee from the whatever-it-was out in the void.

She ignored them, swimming her way hesitantly over to the deep shadow, watching in fear as it grew and grew, swallowing up the void just as it must've swallowed up the light within it, just as it would swallow her up. Just as, it seemed, it had swallowed the flute-player in the past. Swallowing, she closed her eyes and swam into the abyss.

Comments

[Pete100]

So wallflower blush has nature magic, now?