Eternal Forest: Savage Rising (9 page)

             
“So, what did they say?”

             
Viyana paused and turned to the door. It was still open, letting the bright rays of the spring sun flood into the large home. She poked her head out, surveying for anyone nearby that may be listening. What she was about to say was clearly not for everyone to hear, so why she was saying them to him was beyond strange.

             
Convinced that privacy wasn’t an issue, Viyana turned back to face Cherin. “They spoke of a Sorceress that lived in the Wilds. She could make their crops grow no matter how dry and lifeless the land had become.”

             
“What kind of sorceress?” Cherin asked.

             
“They said she was young, with fair skin, green eyes, and long hair as pink as a cherry blossom in spring.”

             
Cherin held his breath. His reason for being here was starting to become clear. “You think it’s…it’s…”

             
“Azalea,” Viyana said, confirming his suspicion. Cherin had never actually spoken in length with the strange, pink-haired girl his traitorous brother ran away with after slaying the Lord of Meadowgold, but stories of her name and strange powers quickly became staples of community gossip. He’d gotten a short glimpse of her terrifying and amazing powers, and he’d never forgotten the things that he saw.

             
“So, the girl is still alive?” Cherin asked.

             
“It seems so,” Viyana replied. “And, if she is, it’s likely so is your brother. If that’s true, then it’s safe to assume they are still together out in the forest.”

             
“And you want me to convince them to come back,” Cherin said. His Lady’s plan was clear to him now. His fists clenched tightly atop the table. His mind replayed that terrible night as he stood in the pouring rain and watched his brother abandon him and their family forever. “Like it’s just that simple,” he said softly.

             
Viyana marched over and slammed her palms down on the table. “Do you think this decision easy?!” she shouted. “I’m the one that awoke to find her Lord and first lieutenant lying dead in the mud! Your brother and that girl murdered our master to save the life of a savage beast! I’ve prayed to the Lady for years for him to return so I could cut off his head!”

             
She paused to take a deep breath. Her shoulders dropped as she looked off to the side. She had to collect herself and regain her composure. It was important to remain firm and in command. Yelling would only convey a lack of control over both the situation and her emotions. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. “Your brother may be a traitor, but he may also be the key to bringing Azalea back to Meadowgold and saving our tribe.”

             
Cherin could understand his Ladyship’s anger all too easily. He’d often thought of what he would do, what he would say, if his little brother were to return. Would he forgive him? Would he disgrace him? Would he embrace him?

             
Would he kill him?

             
“What do you require of me?” he asked.

             
Viyana returned to her seat. Her fingers folded into each other as her hands rested on the table. “The dwarves have invited representatives from each of the tribes to Stonemouth, where they can gather what they need to survive the rest of the year.”

             
Cherin’s eyes widened. “Impossible,” he said in almost a whisper. “No crop can be so bountiful.”

             
Viyana nodded. “The evidence is in front of you now. If Azalea is the Sorceress that brings them such good fortunes, we must find her and convince her to return to Meadowgold. If she is still with your brother, seeing you may convince him to return.”

             
“I doubt that highly,” Cherin said. He didn’t want to disrespect his Lady, but he had to be realistic. “We didn’t actually get along, even before he became a traitor.”

             
“Well, it’s all we have to work with, unless you two have any other family.”

             
“We don’t,” Cherin said with a heavy sigh. His eyes turned towards the floor. “They passed two winters ago.”

             
“Lady be with them,” Viyana said. “But that just leaves you.”

             
“So what happens now?” Cherin asked.

             
“You stay here tonight,” Viyana answered. “We leave for Stonemouth at dawn.”

Chapter 9

            
 
Conditions were so dry that each boot fall on the forest floor sent a cloud of dust into the air. The sun was high, and the air was unusually warm considering how young the spring season was. It all made for terrible growing conditions. The previous harvest had produced useless crops, and any fruit yielded by the trees this early in the spring would be far from ripe enough for eating.

             
Regardless of the conditions, Mica pulled his cart tirelessly as he led a small band of fellow dwarves into the Wilds just north of their mountainside city, Stonemouth. The large, wooden wheels bounced with each root and small stone they had to cross.

This was a task it was never intended to do. Like the humans, dwarves grew their food in prepared fields at the base of the mountains. Foraging in the trees was for the elves and the faeries. The cart was only designed to travel from one flat field to the next, but desperate times had
called for a change in tactics. Mica felt the cart come to a sudden stop and he nearly lost his balance. He looked back to see one of the wheels lodged between two thick roots sticking out of the dry ground.

“Careful, Mica!” said another dwarf as he emerged from behind the cart. The dwarf had fiery red hair and no beard. His sideburns trailed down the sides of his face in long, thick braids.

“I am being careful,” Mica insisted. Letting go of the cart, he ran his thick fingers through his messy blond hair. “This is harder than it looks.” Indeed, this was hard work for any creature to perform, but dwarves had a stocky build and stood at the most four feet tall. Their limited size made pulling such a large object especially difficult.

“If we can’t get the cart through the trees when it’s empty, what are we going to do when it’s filled to the brim?” the red headed dwarf asked.

Mica rubbed the blisters on his hands as he looked off towards the north. “Do you really think the trees will be full again?”

“Is this his first return trip to the Grove, Quartz?” another dwarf asked of the red headed man.

Quarts let out a chuckle. “And you should have seen how big his eyes were the first time.”

“Hey, I’m sure you were shocked your first time seeing it,” Mica said with a huff. “No one has ever seen fruits that big or that plentiful.”

“Her magic is a wonder, no doubt about that,” Quartz said. “To think that such a bounty could come from such terrible conditions. She is truly a blessing from the Lady.”

Having nursed his aching hands as well as he could, Mica took up the cart once again. He lifted his left foot to continue the trek, but paused for another moment. “Do you…do you think she’ll be there?”

“Not likely,” another dwarf said from behind the cart. He was carrying a delicately wrapped parcel in his hands. The mysterious package was covered in a fine, white linen and tied with sparkling, golden thread. “The Sorceress is rarely witnessed, and when she is, she flees our sight quickly.”

“You’ve seen her then, Slate?” Mica asked as he finally began pulling the cart again.” He wasn’t enjoying having to perform the task all on his own, but he knew the tradeoff would be getting to watch the other dwarves try to pull it back when it was full. “You’ve actually seen her in person.”

“I did, once,” Slate answered. His black hair bounced against his back in three long braids as he walked. A long goatee trailed down from his chin and nearly touched the parcel in his hands. “It was two moons ago, on my first trip to the Grove. There was still frost on the ground from winter’s end, yet the fruit trees were fuller than late summer.”

Mica’s eyes were wide with excitement. “Did you speak with her?” he asked. “What was she like?”

Slate chuckled a bit and shook his head. “It wasn’t like that at all. We only saw her for a fleeting moment from across the Grove. I still remember the way she moved, each step like a dance as she made her way about the trees. Such grace, such beauty.”

“So, what happened?” Quartz asked. Slate’s tale was intriguing enough to have captured his interest.

“Her head turned towards us and we were discovered,” Slate answered. “Before we could move, she turned away and darted away like a spooked deer.”

“I’d sure love to see her,” Mica said.

“Perhaps we will,” Quartz said with a smile. Much of the remaining journey through the Wilds was spent in silence. Each dwarf stayed immersed in his own thoughts. The discovery of the Grove had come at the height of the previous summer. Rain was scarce and the forest was drying up rapidly. Their crops failed quickly, sending the entire tribe into a panic. No one knew if there would be enough food to feed everyone in Stonemouth and the surrounding settlements that dotted the hills of the Eastern Mountains.

Becoming desperate, the dwarves ventured into the Wilds in search of food. It was a dangerous undertaking, as the journey took them nearly into the Savage Lands. It was there in the Wilds, in a deep valley between two mountains, that the Grove was discovered.

Nothing about the Grove seemed natural. The valley that housed it was deep, with tall cliffs enclosing it from the east and the west. The valley only received a few hours of direct sunlight each day. The dwarves who first stumbled across it knew no fruit-bearing trees should be able to grow in such conditions, let alone thrive as well as they were. Nevertheless, they’d eagerly hurried home with all they could carry.

When the dwarves returned the following day, not only was the Grove still bountiful, but it seemed the spoils they’d taken the previous day had been replenished. Day after day, the dwarves returned to the Grove, each time finding it full and lush like the day before. Even as the rest of the forest shriveled and died from the lack of rain, the Grove continued to thrive most unnaturally.

The dwarves had no priestess or priest, but many did worship the Lady. Believers from the dwarven territory flocked to the Grove, believing it to be divinely touched. They sang songs, performed dances, and left gifts amongst the trees in thanksgiving for all they’d been given. It wasn’t until the first fall leaves began to change that they saw their first glimpse of the Sorceress. Even though the trees all around were turning brown and falling away, the trees of the Grove stayed green and full, continuing to produce fruit.

No one ever saw her except for in fleeting images out of the corner of their eyes. Only once was a lucky dwarf able to stay still and silent enough to watch her work. What he saw was hard to believe. The Sorceress, who appeared to be a young, human girl, wandered the grove alone, moving from tree to tree and placing a gentle touch upon the bark. With her touch, the canopy would become fuller and the fruits would regrow with unnatural speed.

Many thought they were seeing the Lady herself, but only the great elf Shimmer and her followers had seen the deity with their own eyes, and she did not appear to them as a human woman. The dwarf hurried home and told tales of the discovery. He described the great beauty of the Sorceress, making special mention of her long, pink hair.

Mica set the cart down as he came to a narrow passageway between the mountains. The Grove lay just beyond, but with the cliffs so close, the cart had no room to travel any farther. They
would have to bring their bounty through the passageway to load the cart, but it was a small inconvenience for such a rich reward.

“Time to go load up,” Quartz said as he jumped up into the cart. From within the empty trolley, he tossed out several large, burlap sacks. The dwarves around him took up the sacks and headed into the passageway single file. The walk was a straight shot, but almost too narrow for the dwarves’ stocky shoulders to fit through.

The Grove truly was a remarkable sight. Covering roughly 120 square yards, it stretched long-ways through the valley. Fruit trees grew in perfect rows across a surface of lush grass. Between the trees, patches of vegetables, berry bushes, and other small edible plants grew together. The cliff walls were blanketed from top to bottom in colorful flowers. It was a magical place, both in beauty and in bounty.

Quartz emerged first into the Grove. With his bag open, he went immediately to work picking fruits from the nearest trees. Mica made his way into the Grove next, but paused awestruck as the other dwarves moved around him. His jaw dropped open and his arms hung limp at his side. His hands opened, causing the sack he carried to fall softly on the ground.

Dropping an apple into his bag, Quartz turned his head back and discovered Mica standing just out of the passageway. “What are you doing, goblin-brain?”

“It’s not possible,” Mica said in almost a whisper. Taking a few steps forward, he reached out and plucked a full apple from the nearest tree, from a branch he himself had picked bare only a couple of days before. “It’s simply not possible.”

“Lady’s grace, is he really going to do this?” Slate asked while moving towards the center of the Grove.

Mica wobbled his head, trying to shake the disbelief from his mind. “Where are you going?” he asked loudly.

“Where do you think?” Slate asked, still moving away. “I’m going to leave the tribute.”

“You’re going to the altar?!” Mica said with excitement. “Wait for me!” Leaving his sack on the ground, Mica raced through the trees after Slate.

“Why all the excitement?” Quartz asked with a roll of his eyes. “You’ve seen the altar before.”

“Maybe she’ll be there,” he said.

“You blighted fool,” Quartz said as he chased after him. “The Sorceress has never been seen at the altar.”

“But she always takes the offerings left there, so she’s come there before,” Mica retorted. Blinded by his own excitement, he refused to stop and consider his logic. The Sorceress coming to
them in the Grove was as likely as robin landing on an outstretched hand. Just seeing her was rare enough. Still, his heart was full of hope, and there was no convincing him something magical wasn’t going to happen.

Mica was moving so fast that he ran past Slate and reached the altar first. Made of carved slabs of granite, the altar stood two feet off the ground. A long, smooth surface covered the top. It was a simple structure, but the dwarves of Stonemouth felt it important to honor their Sorceress in any way they could. Since the altar was built, no group of dwarves had visited the grove without bringing some kind of tribute.

Finally catching up to their excited friend, Slate, Quartz, and the other dwarves gathered in a half-circle around the altar. Slate took a step forward and gently placed his parcel in the center of the granite slab. The others watched on as he pulled the golden thread and allowed the fine wrapping to fall away revealing an exquisitely made dress. It was made of dark green silk, with patterns of golden thread beautifully woven into the chest and sleeves.

“That’s beautiful,” Quartz said.

Slate nodded. “Handmade by Sapphire herself.

“The master dressmaker?” Mica asked. “That is indeed a fine gift. I hope the Sorceress will like it.”

“I love it,” said a voice from behind them.

The dwarves suddenly spun around in alarm. Standing behind them several yards away was a young woman. She had on a crudely made dress fashioned from animal hides and hand-spun cotton. Her cloak was old and worn out, with tears, stains, and patches covering it from top to bottom. She lowered her hood, revealing dazzling, green eyes and long, pink hair. “Thank you,” Azalea said.

“Sorceress!” the dwarves said in unison as they dropped to their knees and bowed.

Azalea extended her hands out. A smile of embarrassment crossed her face. “Please, there is no need for that.”

“You grace us with your presence,” Slate said as he lifted his head up. “We have longed for many months to thank you in person for this amazing bounty.”

“There is really no need,” Azalea insisted. In truth, she’d created the Grove simply to feed Zehlyr, Heeska, and herself after their escape into the Wilds. Without her strange power, it was likely they would never have survived on their own. However, with such a terrible drought plaguing the forest, she was more than happy to let all partake of the bounty.

“Sorceress,” Mica said as he rose to his feet. His knees wobbled with nervousness. “We implore you, return to Stonemouth with us so that we may have a banquet in your honor. Our entire tribe is indebted to you and we would see you thanked properly.”

Azalea tried to speak again, but Quartz interrupted her.

“He’s right, Sorceress. The Grove has produced more food than we could hope to consume in ten seasons. There are guests coming soon from all across the Lands of Order to share your copious gifts. We beg you, please reveal yourself to those you have saved.”

Azalea didn’t know what to say. She’d avoided contact with the dwarves for so long because she feared having to explain her miraculous power, which she herself still didn’t understand. She’d been perfectly content simply being the dwarves’ silent provider. After all, she harbored no ill will for them; they weren’t the ones that tried to kill her and those she cared for.

They weren’t like the humans.

It wasn’t until the dwarves began building altars and leaving tributes that she began to feel a bit of guilt weighing on her soul. She hadn’t realized just how highly they thought of her. She’d overheard their conversations as they trekked through her Grove and she’d read the lovely letters left for her when they departed. They viewed her as a blessing from the Lady herself. She certainly didn’t feel like anything special, but the fact remained that
she had become a very important person in dwarven society.