The elderly woman sighs.
[It’s not that simple. It’s a buff class that works on sapients and ants so long as you are together. You could use a buff, could you not?]
As much as I want to say no, we are heavily outmatched by our opponents. Sensing my hesitation, Enid breaks into my thoughts.
[We’ve already spoken to Sloan and Victor, and they’ve approved our involvement, provided you agree. A lot of people from Renewal have come to help defend the nests. We feel that we have a chance to repay our debt.]
I scoff.
[Come on, Enid. How many people would be dumb enough to run into the Dungeon to try and defend a colony of monstrous ants? They’d have to be completely and irrevocably insane.]
Before I even finish my rant, they’ve begun to arrive in the chamber. People. Hundreds of them. Farmers, merchants, craftsmen and women, each and every one a refugee from the devastation of Garralosh. Word of my arrival must have spread quickly, because they run to me in waves, more appearing every moment. When the first arrive behind the priests, they immediately join them, falling to their knees and raising their hands in prayer.
More come, then more, still more, until I stand with my pets and the great gate of the colony behind me, and thousands of humans kneeling in a great arc before me.
[Just about every person of fighting age came,] Enid says gently. [Almost the entire town.]
I can’t even shake my head.
[What is wrong with you people?]
119. One Day More
Deep within the main nest of the young race of ants that he had come to know as ‘the colony,’ the sage who named himself Grey sat in deep meditation. Nearby, his apprentice, White, watched patiently as her master performed those feats of the mind she was not yet capable of. For though he sat still, not a single muscle moving across his entire frame, his mind roamed wide, seeking and communing. After several hours of stillness, he opened his eyes and breathed a deep sigh, relaxing the tension that had seized him.
“What were you able to find, teacher?” White asked.
In response, he only shook his head. A moment later, she felt his mind nudge against her own.
[You know better than to speak out loud in this place,] he admonished her. [The colony are not our enemies, but they are not Folk.]
The fox-girl ducked her head to acknowledge the reprimand.
[I understand. I feared you would be tired after your Seeking and did not wish to tax you.]
Her concern warmed his old heart, but he did not allow it to show on his face.
[I am stronger than you give me credit for, youngling. I have no need of your coddling.]
[Putting that aside, were you able to contact the bruan’chii?]
[Impatient as ever, my disciple. Yes. The Grove Keeper has awoken and begun to tend to her children. The Grove has grown so quickly, I fear the anger of the Mother Tree has been roused.]
[Isn’t that rare? I had read that the Mother Tree was a lover of peace.]
Grey leaned back and rubbed his legs secretly, trying to keep the motion out of his young charge’s eyes.
[The Mother Tree is, before anything else, a tree. She can be vicious when it comes to matters that touch on her wellbeing, or that of her children. From what I could glean, she has felt the presence of the Abyssal Legion in this place, and she has no love for them, putting it mildly.]
White nodded. Knowledge of the war between the young races and the old was important history to their people. The conflict between the Legion and bruan’chii had been particularly fierce. At the height of which, the Mother Tree herself had been under siege, even wounded, by the Legionaries. Had the alliance not been brokered in time, it’s possible the Legion would have been successful in their attempts to cull this new race from Pangera.
[Do you believe they will intervene?] she asked.
[I do. I’m not sure if they will risk open conflict at this stage, but I think a show of force will be the least we can expect from them.]
[And our people?]
The wolf-man heaved a deep breath and shook his head.
[It is never so easy to reach a consensus amongst the Folk, you know that, White. The decision to accept the colony as a young race and bring them into the alliance will take years, and many honour battles, to settle. The tribes are fractious at the best of times. Unless they are threatened, they will not unify quickly.]
[Surely your words carry weight there, Master. You could push them to act quickly.]
Grey turned his eyes directly on his disciple and stared hard at her. She sat still, hands folded in her lap as she looked steadily back at him. Her eyes were clear and focused, unpolluted by selfishness and greed.
[You have come to admire the colony, haven’t you, child? You desire our people to reach forth their hand and shelter them?]
[I do,] she acknowledged, not attempting to deny it. [I do not believe you should extinguish an entire race on the premise that they may one day do evil. I do not see evil here, but good.]
[A simple view of the world. There are always currents, variables—uncertainties. The nature of good and evil are not so clear. Do you think the Legion to be evil? I do not. They simply do what they think is right, as do we all. It is rare indeed to find the individual who walks on a path that they know to be wrong.]
[I have heard these words before,] his normally demure student told him, her mind firm. [But they do not answer my question. Will you act?]
Grey closed his eyes and regulated his breathing, sinking into meditation. He ignored the irritated huff White released when she saw his actions, and instead pondered the answer to her question. Was he willing to act? Usually so confident in his decisions, this time, he wasn’t sure. The branching paths of fate spread so far and wide from this point it was impossible to predict the consequences of any action. Who could walk boldly on such paths?
Deeper in the Dungeon…
The Grove Keeper was newly awakened, but already his body was flexible and lithe, filled with the power of the Mother. His memory still shifted and drifted, not yet settled in his new form, but he didn’t mind. Here in the Grove, so close to the tendril of the Origin Tree, he knew no harm could come to him. So long as the Mother watched over them, their safety was guaranteed, enabling them to act and carry out her will.
In this moment, her will was clear. Anger and indignation rang throughout the Grove until every branch and leaf quivered with it. The hated enemy had been found attempting to extinguish new light, just as they attempted on the Keeper’s own people. It would not stand.
Around the tendril, a vast garden had formed, filled to bursting with life and greenery that drank in the dark Mana of the second stratum without pause, transforming it into nutrition that further powered the growth of each vine, flower, tree, and shrub. To the outside eye, it appeared as if a flourishing ecosystem of plants had sprung to life in the harshest of environments, a miracle of nature. The Keeper roamed amongst the plants, caressing each in turn as he encouraged their growth and felt their energy flow into him in return.
The truth was simpler. This was not a plethora of plants, but one entity. All was the Mother Tree, each and every lifeform in the Grove just another expression of her careful design to draw in the power of the Dungeon and transform it to fuel her people. That energy was already being put to good use.
The Keeper turned back to the tendril, the filament that extended from one of his mother’s roots, and saw the dozens of shapes beginning to emerge.