Completed Remember Bhathairk

[Zeri Rekani]

(Following the events of "The Great Ones Beneath" and "Bhathairk: The Aftermath")
(Open to anyone and everyone)​

It started with just an orcish girl--perhaps foolishly, perhaps righteously--at the destroyed Gates of Bhathairk.

And Zeri had been incredibly nervous before she even began. When she thought about it, standing before that sea of tents and shouting her heartfelt desire and her sincere convictions and making herself vulnerable like that, standing before the tribesorcs who might pass her by and who might gather to listen, her hands began to shake and her teeth set to chattering and there came the awful, burning pain of dreaded anticipation in the pit of her chest. She in truth had a few false starts. She would stand before the ruined Gates of the city, try to say something, anything, with a coarse throat and legs that felt as if they had turned to tree sap. And then she would sit back down among the tent city of Bhathairk survivors, rattled and embarrassed. This she did with her face buried in the palms of her hands.

She couldn't do it. Oh gosh, oh spirits, she couldn't do it. She wanted to do it, she wanted so darned desperately to do it, but it was as if her body was in conflict with her spirit. Her Ma, her Pa, her brothers Rodon and Gurrash, she owed it to all of them. And she owed it to all of Bhathairk, to each and every tribesorc and tribeself and tribeshuman who called the Great Orcish Stronghold home and who had lost their loved ones as well. Friends and family had all been cruelly taken within the span of a single day, the worst in the whole of Bhathairk's history and maybe even one of the worst for all of Arethil (for, if the travelers from the west were right, had not Elbion suffered too?). They deserved better. Each and every one of the innocent dead, they deserved better. What happened to them, to their beloved city of Bhathairk, was unforgiveable--the pinnacle of wickedness. They. Deserved. Better.

They deserved a Bhathairk that was healed. The terrible sundering of the earth mended, the lava--Arethil's molten blood--sealed back beneath the dirt, the ruins cleaned up and the city rebuilt stronger than ever.

And they deserved a Bhathairk without foul monuments to Neha's villainous rampage.

Without the Mother's Meadow.

And without the Black Tree.

Zeri wanted to inspire her fellow tribespeople of Bhathairk to rally against these vile symbols left by the scaled murderer of their mothers and fathers, their sons and daughters, their brothers and sisters. She wanted her dream of a Bhathairk restored from devastation and grief to become a reality. And, most of all, she wanted justice for her Ma; and the best way she could think to do that was to help heal the wounds of Bhathairk. On a deep level, primal and unspoken and not beholden to reason, Zeri didn't want Neha to win. And so long as that Black Tree and that Meadow claimed ownership of Bhathairk, victory belonged to Neha.

And here Zeri was. Sitting like a cowardly little girl among the sprawling tents outside of her ruined city. Doing nothing. No. Worse. Too afraid to do anything. Her body weak and her spirit frail. Some "hero." Some "warrior." Aspirations of a girl too pitiful to be either. Even when Bhathairk needed it most. Even when her Ma--

Spoiler: The flash of memory

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said in a whimpering way as she threw more debris aside. "I shouldn't have left. I won't leave. Ever again. I love you, Ma. I love you, Pa. I love you, Rodon. I love you, Gur--"

Another stone and broken shingle thrown aside and Zeri uncovered something: a hand. Sticking up through the rubble, shattered and broken and bloody, the arm to which it was connected disappearing into the swallowing ruin. A hand whose skin was green. A hand whose form was slender and unmistakable to her eye.

Zeri froze. Her heart stopped. And she said in a meek voice, "Mama...?"

She reached for her mother's hand. Held it in both of hers. Squeezed it.

Mama squeezed back. Weak and frail.

And then did not squeeze.

"Mama??"

Zeri stood. Clenched her teeth and pursed her lips and narrowed her brow and stood. This was it. This was it. If she couldn't bring herself to merely talk to her own people, to confess her earnest wish to them and to open herself up to the forever sting of rejection, then what hope did she have of destroying the Tree and the Meadow? Of helping to heal Bhathairk? Of securing justice for her Ma and her family?

Zeri marched to the front of the ruined Gates again. Faced the tent city and the survivors that inhabited it, all of whom at present going about their business and paying her no mind. Her hands shook in trepidation.

But, at last, she overcame it. She slammed her right hand fiercely to her chest, her palm flat over her heart, and she declared at the very top of her lungs:

"MY NAME IS ZERI REKANI! AND I REMEMBER BHATHAIRK!"

* * * * *

GATES​

It took hours. The blue sky of afternoon gave way to the orange of the coming sunset as Zeri shouted and orated her way into the evening. First and for a long time to a crowd of none, only the few curious and fleeting looks from the orcs whose tents were set up closest to the destroyed Gates. But Zeri, despite her nervousness, continued to make her plea.

And as the hours went on, her nervousness abated. She grew more confident. More impassioned. More determined and absolutely driven and secure in the cause she was espousing. Once she had finally gotten going, an inversion had occurred: where before it was terribly difficult to start, now she found that she could not stop. Over and over again, repeating herself and rephrasing her words and stating her case and her plea, she kept at it. She simply would not quit, even as a few orcs thought her to be raving mad or delusional or just another case of a grief-stricken survivor.

But some started to listen. Some started to gather around. This gathering caused more to come, if only to see what was happening. And as that orange of the setting sun came, Zeri found herself preaching to a crowd consisting of hundreds of orcs--orcs, and humans and elves and others. A supporter of her cause had even brought along a cart for her to stand on and address the crowd from, and waterskins for her to wet her ragged throat after crying out to be heard for so long.

Zeri had a crowd. But she had not yet won the crowd.

"The fight isn't over!" she called from atop the cart. "The Risen have been put to rest, but the shadow of the Black Dragon remains! From Its body came the Black Tree, and from Its blood the Meadow!"

(Murmurs and arguments in the crowd. Orcish voices saying, "That's not what I saw," and "She's right! They're spawned from the Dragon!" and "I heard differently" and "What does it even matter if it is not a foe to fight?")

"Each of those flowers was bought by a cruel death, and that Tree is the culmination of all of them!" Zeri shouted. And she started pointing to members of the crowd she knew had lost someone. "A flower for the murder of your brother, a flower for the murder of your father, a flower for the murder of your son! As if flowers and a Tree could possibly equal what you have lost! Each and every one of them is a sneering tombstone that mocks the tragic passing of your friends, your family! The Black Dragon smirks and laughs at all who would see those flowers, who would further look at that Black Tree, and think them beautiful!"

Someone from the crowd to Zeri: "Hasn't Bhathairk suffered enough destruction?? Why do this?"

Zeri earnestly extended an open hand out in the direction of the person who had spoken. "Are we not a proud people? Will we accept this?? This cowardly surrender? This capitulation to the Black Dragon? We will just let the murderer of our family and friends, the destroyer of our beloved city, have the final say in what Bhathairk will look like? Will you bow down and just accept that tyranny? I won't! I say, No! I say that we beseech the shamans to mend the wounds of the earth! I say that we tear down that Tree and uproot that Meadow! Bhathairk was beautiful before, far more beautiful than it could ever be while scarred by the Black Dragon's trophies! Can you not see it in your mind's eye? I can! I can see it very well! And together, I know, I KNOW, that we can make Bhathairk beautiful once more! The wounds of the earth will take time, but the Meadow? That despicable Tree? Those can be gone today! We own Bhathairk! We, every single member of the Bhathairk Tribe, own this city! Not the Black Dragon! Not any dragon! We do!"

(Split opinions among the crowd. Some raised their fists to the air and roared their approval. Some looked aghast. Some looked doubtful. Some nodded silently in agreement. Some looked apathetic. Some called out pleas for peace while others called out for Zeri to continue to speak the truth.)

Zeri, quietly incredulous that she had even come this far while at the same time the passion for her plea grew, thrust her own fist into the air in solidarity with those in the crowd who had done the same.

Said, "I remember Bhathairk! And I love it with all my heart! Who will join me in seeing our Great Orcish Stronghold restored from ruin!? Restored as it was, as we all remember!? Who will join me?"

Zeri was making strides, but she had not yet rallied the survivors to action.

It may come that she succeeds and marches on the Tree and the Meadow.

Or it may come that she fails here and now, the crowd swayed against it and her attempt to destroy the Tree and the Meadow smothered before it had even truly begun.

The case was still being made.

 

[Weylin Kyrel]

The orcess was determined to cause mischief it seemed. All the way to the gates. All the way to the big, scary crowds. She was determined to speak her mind and try to get others to help her in her quest. After everything that had happened she was obsessed with getting rid of the meadow and tree the dragon had left behind. It seemed foolish to be dealing with it all before the streets had been cleared of those walking things. Better to prepare and make safe first.

But the hunter had decided he was going to fully support Zeri in whatever it was she wanted to do here. She was his friend. They had been through several life and death situations together already. Abandoning her wasn't an option. He just hoped this would bring her peace.

While all the commotion was going on at the gate, Weylin sulked around the ruins of the city. The crowds of orcs made him nervous. Very nervous. So instead of going to where they gathered he decided to help in a different way. He was out scavenging supplies. Shovels. Pickaxes. Buckets. Ropes. Anything that they could use to dig up and kill the plants of the meadow and the tree.

The hunter found himself hunkered down not far from the meadow in some rubble. White was laid down next to him. One of those walking things was stumbling around. He didn't want to fight it unless he had to. So he waited. And waited. Aaand waited.

It wasn't going anywhere.

The thing just kept walking in this circle around what looked like it was once a tower or a silo or some other round building. It caved in so was impossible to say what its function use to be.

Hopefully the thing would find something better to do soon. Weylin had supplies to find for Zeri's projects.

Zeri Rekani

 

[Zeri Rekani]

"Should we not clean up the ruins of Bhathairk first?" came another call from the crowd.

"And we are!" Zeri called back from her cart perch. "The Black Tree and the Mother's Meadow are ruins! Worse, in truth! The sea of destroyed homes behind me--mine among them--are places of love all! And while they lay devastated, the Black Tree and the Mother's Meadow--ugly, wretched symbols of death and cruelty--stand and cast their baleful shadows over the city decimated by their maker! I find it loathsome! Even in death, the Black Dragon torments us, because until we can reclaim those parts of our city from the Tree, from the Meadow, the Dragon owns them!"

"They are plants!" said another dissenter from the crowd. "The Spirits would--"

Zeri interrupted him. "NO! They are not merely plants! The Spirits of Earth, Air, Water, Fire, none of these reside within those abominations! They were not spawned of Arethil, but from the corrupted body and blood of an evil Dragon! They are unnatural, and they house no Spirits! And moreover, they are monuments! Trophies left by the Black Dragon to callously celebrate its wanton violence! Who among you can look upon that Tree, those flowers, and dare say to your fellow tribesmen and tribeswomen that you do not see the deaths of thousands--THOUSANDS--of innocent people?"

"She's right!" a supporter from the crowd shouted. "When the Amalgamation came, we as a people cleaned up the shards from those Spires!"

Zeri pointed toward the supporter in the crowd. "Hear him! Where was this talk of sparing the monuments left by a monster when the Amalgamation had come? Such words never left anyone's lips! No, we did what was right! We cleaned up our city. And there is no difference this time! The Amalgamation left Its broken Spires, the Black Dragon left Its Tree and Its Meadow. What was left by the Amalgamation, what is left now by the Black Dragon, both are equally disgusting in what they represent! We have to be strong! We have to do what is right! We must clean up our city!"

Zeri continued on with her pleas, taking notice of the crowd and how they were responding to her.

More and more nods. More and more cheers and chants. More and more gestures of support.

She was winning them over...at present.

Weylin Kyrel

 

[Weylin Kyrel]

Round and round and round and round and round and round the thing went around the ruin.

Why wouldn't it go away?

The hunter had been here for what felt like an hour. It was more like five to ten minutes but the tediousness of how it just kept walking a circle around the ruin made it feel like far longer. It had already been at it when he arrived here. How long exactly had it been doing this for?

The thought of ambushing it was beginning to cross his mind when the falling of some debris caught his attention. A rat was wandering around the ruins of a building on the opposite side of the street. For the first time the thing stopped doing its circles. The rat fully got its attention. No scream. No noise. It gave no warning of what it did next. It just suddenly began to sprint towards the rat. As it came within reach the rat suddenly noticed it was in danger and took off. The thing gave chase and soon enough both were gone.

Weylin just blinked a bit in confusion. Slowly he got himself out from his hiding place. Then he and White began to make their way around the round ruin.

As they began to pass by, something caught the hunter's eye. It was a trap door barely noticeable under the rubble. People stored things underground. Valuable things. Perhaps things that could help orcess. So he moved his way over to it and began the slow process of trying to remove the rubble from around what could potentially be their solution.

Zeri Rekani

 

[Zeri Rekani]

"We cannot bring back those we love and have lost," Zeri said to the crowd. "But we can help them rest in peace. We can honor their memory by taking back our city. Bhathairk belongs to us and to them, not to the Black Dragon. It will take time to undo all of the terrible damage that monster did, but we can do it. I believe we can. I believe that things can get better! I believe that the gaping wounds of the earth can be mended. I believe that our homes can be rebuilt. And I believe that the Tree and the Meadow can be gone. We don't need to suffer a day longer under the shadow of--"

"Zeri?" came a voice from behind her and to the left.

Zeri froze in shock. Some in the crowd seemed to mimic this shock, confused as to why she had stopped so abruptly and why her expression changed so quickly.

She knew that voice. And she glanced back over her shoulder with wide eyes and breathless anticipation.

* * * * *​

For weeks he had searched. All in vain. And just before Caliane, yes, that same Caliane, the Angel of Fire and the Savior of Bhathairk, had come back with a number of Avariel, he thought that the Plague was going to claim him. He along with the others who had fled into the underrealm with the drow during Neha's awakening thought that if the Plague did not take them, then the drow--understandably for their own protection--might put them all to the sword. Everyone discovered quickly what happened when the Plague progressed far enough. But the Avariel helped discover a cure, and he was saved.

During the time spent in the underrealm, he had retained some hope. Hope that while he had gotten to safety underground with the drow, his family had all managed to flee like many others on the surface. But when he was cured and he went about the community of survivors aboveground, he did not find them. He searched and searched as best he could and did not find them. He searched where it was safe and where it was not. And he did not find any of them. Then came despair. He thought them all to be lost, and that it was his fault. That he could have gathered them all and left as soon as the first earthquake had struck instead of staying--but how could he have known?

Then, an hour ago, he was approached by an acquaintance. An acquaintance who wasn't quite sure, but suggested he ought to go to the Gates of Bhathairk. And so he did.

Thandriel Rekani, Zeri's Pa, was overcome with dizzying incredulousness and joy the moment he saw her.

* * * * *​

"Papa...?" Zeri said, and the attention of the crowd shifted with her toward the tall elf.

"Zeri, I..." Thandriel couldn't finish. He could barely speak. His knees buckled and he crumbled down to them and then to his haunches and he held out his arms and beckoned weakly for her to come to him.

"PAPA!"

Zeri hopped down off of the cart and rushed toward him and threw herself into his arms and together they tumbled back onto the ground and she hugged him with all her meager might. She couldn't stop kissing him. On his cheek, on his nose, on his eyelid, on his forehead--sometimes she managed to say Papa between kisses, sometimes she only managed a single Pa. She seemed to be laughing and crying at the same time, overwhelmed with both powerful sadness and ecstatic joy.

The crowd, after catching on, had a collective gasp of astonishment ripple through them. Someone started clapping. A few more did. Then most were. They did not know either Zeri or Thandriel on a personal level, but all could feel degrees of empathic gladness for them, for the abrupt reunion of a father and his daughter, a daughter and her Pa.

Zeri buried her face in her Pa's shirt. Said something that was muffled to the point of being unintelligible.

Thandriel sat up, holding his daughter close as he did. He said to her, "I thought that you had perished, sweetheart. By the gods, I thought that I would never see you again."

"Papa," Zeri said, looking up at him. "Oh spirits, I thought you were dead too. Is Rodon okay? Is Gurrash okay?"

And here Thandriel had to tell her the awful truth: that he did not know. That he had not found them, nor heard anything of them. And Zeri likewise had to tell him an awful truth: that she knew for certain that Ma was dead. Tears edged out of Pa's eyes. He nodded. Then hugged Zeri to him again.

With her ear close to his mouth, he whispered to her: "Don't do this."

Zeri's heart skipped a beat. "W-What? Papa?"

"Don't do this, Zeri," he whispered. "This. With the Tree and the Meadow. I don't want to lose you too, baby girl. I love you."

Weylin Kyrel

 

[Weylin Kyrel]

Brick after brick. Charred chunk after charred chunk. Plenty of ash and dust everywhere.

The hunter didn't know how he had spotted the trapdoor through all of the rubble. It was extensive and thickly set. If all he had to do was reveal the door itself it might not have been so rough, but he needed to clear a path big enough to walk though as well as clear around the trap door as well so he could set things there. If there was anything worth taking down below the trap door.

As much work as it was, he couldn't stop. Zeri needed help so she could find some peace. The meadow and tree plagued her heart and mind too much. All he could do to help cure her of it was help her remove them from her home.... Or what was left of it.

Clothes now covered and stained with ash, progress had been made. A passable path had been cleared and the trapdoor freed up. He just needed to get things cleared around it now.

A sharp pain sliced through his hand. He looked down. The leather of his gloves was cut up from the edges of brick and stone. No doubt he would be bleeding soon. He had no time to stop. The work needed to be finished. Supplies needed to be found. And the only way that would happen is if he kept going.

And so Weylin did.

Minutes past by uneventfully. He was nearly done. A clearing around the trap door was nearly made. But as he began to move a large chunk of debris, a burnt beam of wood that had been stood straight up fell to its side. The hunter was forced to jump out of the way and land on rubble. He already knew he was going to have some bruises beneath his leather and cloth.

After getting himself up, Weylin wanted to curse. The beam had fallen over the trap door and was blocking it. He had to go around to the end not still in rubble and try to lift it up. It barely budged. Heavy was the tree this wood had come from. He sneered.

The hunter tried again to lift the beam. Slowly, very slowly, he began to lift it up. His body screamed at the effort. It liked his action less than he did. But soon enough he got it high enough up to duck under and get the beam on his shoulder. Then he began to push up with his legs. It was easier now. The weight fell with his weight.

He got a hold of it and began to walk back the way the beam had came. It rose back up higher and higher as he did. When it was nearly standing back up he pushed it away from himself and watched it tumble in front of him over the rubble he didn't need to clear.

Finally Weylin was done and could get to the task of exploring what lay below the trap door. He walked over to it and whistled for White. He pointed to space in front of the trap door. "Stay. Guard." She barked. He petted her head and then lifted the door up.

The hunter descended down the ladder below.

Zeri Rekani

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Bhatharik had undergone great changes not only on the surface but beneath too.

Upon descending the ladder below, the explorer would find that the basement that had once sat there was now gone. There were a few signs of it still - a discarded crete here, a broken shelving unit there - but the majority of it had been ripped away by the tide of the lava river that now bubbled underneath the house.

It had as strong a current as any swollen river would the night of a storm. It sloshed up the banks and spat lumps of fire out that hissed against blackened rocks when it landed. The air smelt of charred remains and odd things drifted by every now and then - debris, bodies, trinkets. In the middle of the river a rock protruded upwards sharply and buried into the rock itself was an axe.

 

[Zeri Rekani]

"I'm..." Zeri started, her confidence shaken. "I'm doing this for Ma."

Worry creased Thandriel's expression. "The Black Tree and the Mother's Meadow came from Neha, sweetheart. Think about that. They are not normal. They're dangerous. You don't know what you're up against."

Zeri glanced over her shoulder at the cart and the crowd still arranged in front of it. Back to her father. "I can't just leave now. I can't."

Thandriel cupped her cheeks with his hands and said, "Yes you can, Zeri. You can walk away. Right now. Before you do something..."

Zeri reached up and gently pulled her Pa's hands down from her face. She leaned in again. Kissed him on the cheek. And it hurt terribly to say, "I love you, Pa."

And Zeri stood. Thandriel stood a moment afterward. Zeri offered a wan smile to him and then turned and climbed back up onto the cart and faced the crowd that had gathered to hear her speak and who had come either to support her or to disagree with her. She looked out among them. Something of a hushed silence had fallen over them as they waited to hear what she had to say. Zeri took in a breath.

"Today..."

She cast a sideways glance to her Pa. Then back out to the crowd.

And said with a renewed determination, "We reclaim our city! Together!"

Those supporting Zeri's cause against the Tree and the Meadow gave cheers and roars of approval. Those that did not fell out from the ranks of the crowd, returning to the tents arrayed before the Gates. Her supporters initially numbered only about a hundred orcs, but--as they went to their tents to grab their weapons, gear, tools, armor, things that they thought they would need--the number doubled and became closer to two hundred as they brought back surviving friends and family. Veterans of past battles and adventurers who had traveled the world and learned orcs who had studied abroad all began to converse among one another, coming up with plans and secondary plans for how this feat might be accomplished, and these orcs formed something of a loose command structure for the ad hoc group. Zeri had the heart to be the figurehead, but she was well aware that she lacked the know-how, and this makeshift council filled in that gap.

Thandriel approached her as the two-hundred strong group were making final preparations to move out.

He said, "I'm coming along, Zeri. I do not like what you're about to do, but I only want to see you come safely through this."

"Pa," said Zeri. "Do you remember what Ma said to you before I left to find an Edelweiss in the Spine for the Elders?"

"Yes. I do. I do indeed."

She smiled again. Trying to be strong for him, strong for herself, but she was nervous nonetheless. "I can do this. Bhathairk can be beautiful again, and I can help make it so." And she tapped at her neck tattoo, the very tattoo that by custom signaled that she was no longer a little girl. "Watch."

One of the orcish veterans whistled. Got Zeri's attention. Tossed her a felling axe which she caught with both hands.

And Zeri Rekani turned toward the Gates of Bhathairk, the orcs rallied to reclaim Bhathairk from the shadow of the Black Dragon Neha gathered behind her.

Together, they marched in.

Weylin Kyrel

 

[Weylin Kyrel]

What the hunter found was hardly believable. An underground river of lava flowed here. Was that why the thing was patrolling around it? Were they attracted to the lava? He didn't know. All he could make out was that the basement was no more and had been replaced with fire and brimstone.... And an axe?

Narrowing his eyes and frowning a bit, he looked at the thing in the center of the lava. It was the shaft of an axe but it was made out of stone. Or it was made out of something that looked like stone. It must be special and if it was special then it might be able to help out Zeri with her goal.

So now he needed to figure out how to get this treasure.

Weylin's eyes darted around the place. There was nothing of use anywhere.... Except some rope. He carefully moved over and examined it. A coil of sturdy rope had somehow survived down here. It was not the longest, but it was long enough to give him an idea of how he could retrieve that axe for the orcess.

One end of the rope was tied to an arrow with a hooked head. Weylin notched it on his bow and looked for a good anchor for it. Some of the wooden support beams still seemed intact. He drew and loosed. The arrow went flying with the rope, which threw off its course a bit. It embedded itself into the beam a little further to the right than he had aimed, but it worked for him. He took the end on his side of the river of lava and tied it up high around a beam.

Then the hunter began to crawl along the rope above the lava towards the stone in the middle. Besides the stink, heat, and uncomfortable bubbling sounds below, he had no trouble reaching his destination. He dropped himself down to the rock and instantly became nervous. Its of flames would surge up from the sides every so often as the lava flowed on by slowly. The charred remains of some poor soul drifted by as a reminder of what a single mistake here would bring.

The hunter swallowed his nerves and got his hands around the axe shaft. Then he began to pull. Nothing happened. So he pulled again and then again and then again. Nothing still. The shaft was buried deep into the stone. Or maybe it was part of the stone and he was running a fools errand.

His foot slipped a bit as this thought ran across his mind. He began to fall off the side of the rock. Instinctively he grabbed onto and pulled himself to the shaft of the axe. It was not until now that it finally decided to give, as if it wished to give him a fiery death. But he managed to right his footing just in time to save his own life.

Breathing erratically, the hunter took a moment to just stand there. His heart was racing and he felt surges of energy flowing through his limbs. His mind seemed both to be racing faster than streaks of lightning yet also as frozen as the glaciers back home in the Spine. Eventually his mind calmed and he pulled the shaft fully out of the rock.

Time for him to leave this place the way he had came.

========================

After retrieving the axe and leaving the basement, Weylin had made his way towards the gates. This thing was special and he just knew it would be of use to Zeri. White was padding along with him when he turned a corner and saw more orcs in one place than the size of most towns back home.

The hunter immediately hide himself. His heart was racing again and he felt he was in a near panic. Flashes of memory came to him.

Fire. Blood. Death.

He slapped his own face. Now wasn't the time. He had something to do and needed to do it quickly. So he peeked out at the gathering and forced himself to slowly look for the right orc.

There she was.

Weylin began to sneak his way around the various groups of orcs towards Zeri. Thankfully they were distracted and she was near the front. His heart continued to race. Every step felt as if he was coming closer, ever so closer, to his death. A death by fire. A death by axe and spear and arrows. Bloody screams thirsting for his blood. Murderers seeking to steal life rather than goods. The same death as everyone he knew and loved....

The orcess' voice was around a corner. Weylin blinked. He had found himself inside the ruins of a building and Zeri was just outside it.

He sneaked over to the corner and peeked around. He saw her there talking to someone. He waited. As soon as the other orc left he reached around and drug the orcess into the ruin with him.

"Zeri." Weylin said in a hushed voice. His tone was near panicked like that of a man who had seen a ghost. His eyes darted around a bit and his hood was pulled up as far as he could get it. "Have something for you."

The hunter pulled out the axe shaft and placed it in the orcess' hands. "Here. Its special. Like you."

Zeri Rekani

 

[Zeri Rekani]

They came to a crossroads of sorts, and the group halted. In one direction they could go to the Meadow. The other, to the Black Tree. The council of veterans, adventurers, and scholars discussed briefly which way they ought to go first. It was not a long conversation. Zeri gave her input, and Thandriel--nearby--did not. He stood behind the conversing council, more or less between them and the greater bulk of the orcs and other tribesfolk who had come.

Zeri spoke her part to a grizzled old orcish veteran. And it was decided: the group would go to the Black Tree first, for it was the more challenging of the two to deal with.

Right as this consensus was reached, Zeri felt a tug and she stumbled some but righted herself. She had gasped but not yelped, and then she visibly relaxed when she saw that it was Weylin who had gotten her attention. Likewise, the few orcs of the crowd who had seen this relaxed when they assessed that Zeri thought herself to be in no danger. Thandriel had not seen it, his attention on the grizzled veteran who was speaking up about the decision to march on the Tree.

Zeri, Weylin said. He looked pale with fright. And though she clearly understood why that was, still it was strange to her that she could feel so at home among the orcs, elves, and humans of the group and Weylin--with specific regard to the first of those--did not.

"There you are. I was wondering--"

Have something for you.

Before the question of What could even leave her lips, Weylin presented the...wow, what kind of axe was that? Where did he even find it? He had said he was going to scavenge some supplies, but something like this was...

Zeri looked at the weapon with no shortage of wonder. She put down the regular felling axe and took hold of the shaft and--

Nearly dropped it. Outside, the large group was starting to move, heading toward the Black Tree.

"Oh-h-h! It's heavy. Ah, it's heavy. I got it, I got it." Zeri looked at the strange, vibrant axehead for a second, then back up to Weylin. Smiled in appreciation. Said, "I hope this works."

Weylin Kyrel

 

[Weylin Kyrel]

Some of the orcs had noticed him. It sent waves of panic through him. He felt like a hare spotted by a fox. This could only spell disaster for him. For White. For-

Zeri spoke after messing with the axe a bit. Seemed it was a bit heavy for her, but she would get use to it. He was sure of it. His focus was back on her now. She was smiling at him. Looked nice on her. Natural. It was good to see her happy.

"Me too." Weylin said to her pulling on his hood trying to make it go further forward when it was obvious it wouldn't. "You are heading to the tree right? I'll go to the meadow.... Once everyone has left."

That was his big plan. Wait for them to leave and then avoid the big group of angry orcs while still helping in his own little way. It took him away from Zeri but he hoped she felt supported. He was still supporting her after all.

When it was time for Zeri to rejoin her mob, Weylin would stop her for a moment and look her in the eyes. No words followed. He simply gave her a long hug before letting her go. And then he did his best to hide as far into the ruined house as he could while all the angry, heavily armed orcs marched on by cheering for the death of a living thing they were going to be responsible for killing.

================

Things were safe now. The orcs had been gone for a few minutes. The hunter slipped out of his hiding spot and got his sense of place sorted out. He remembered how to get to the meadow and where he had been.

But he still needed supplies.

So the human got himself going. There was more to explore and things he would need. Best he get to it.

=================

Luck was on Weylin's side. Not long after he had left towards the meadow he ran into a mostly intact building. It had turned out to be a warehouse. Based on the contents, it was for a general store. Tools, barrels, crates. The place seemed to have everything. It even had a handcart inside.

The hunter got to work clearing out the handcart. Boxes, crates, and baskets had to go. Shells, rocks, and grains weren't useful to him right now. He hated to admit that but they were. In their place he began to load up spades, pickaxes, and hoes. They could dig up and tear up the roots of the plants in the meadow this way.

There was something else of use he had found: oil. Lots of oil was being stored in urns and skins. Some of it was for cooking. Some of it was for maintaining weapons and armor. Some of it just seemed to be for rubbing on bare skin to make it all nice and shiny. Orcs heading to the tree clearly had done that to impress their fellows. It just reflected the flames of their torches and spooked the hunter more.

He loaded all of it up as well as all the dried reeds, grass, and small sticks he could find. All of it loaded into the handcart he began to pull it out of the warehouse and down the street towards the meadow.

Weylin had an idea.

Zeri Rekani

 

[Zeri Rekani]

"Yes," Zeri said. "We decided that we should go to the Tree first."

She thought of telling him to be careful at the Meadow, but she did not. He would be anyway. She thought of telling him about the good news, that her Pa had found her out by the Gates. And again she decided against it. A better time would come. A calmer time. One without the large crowd of orcs and tribesfolk just outside the ruin making him anxious and the tasks before them both weighing on their minds.

"Okay," she said. "We'll celebrate tonight. After all this is done. It'll be fun--you'll see."

Zeri turned to leave, but Weylin stopped her. She blinked. And he (oh gosh) pulled her into a hug that sent her heart into a warm flutter. Both of her hands were occupied holding the heavy axe, and likewise were pressed between them such that she couldn't hug him back. Flashes of a number of things went through her mind, culminating in what Pa said about the Tree and the Meadow being dangerous.

When he pulled back, Zeri said to him, "Weylin." Then she smiled bashfully and leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Said quickly after pulling back herself, "For good luck."

And with that she left the ruin and hurriedly rejoined the march toward the Black Tree.

* * * * *

THE BLACK TREE​

The first problem became immediately apparent for those who did not already know--Zeri included--once the crowd had arrived in the vicinity of the Black Tree. The Tree was not accessible by land. It was in the middle of one of the many chasms sundered open by the Black Dragon's rise, its very roots forming the kind of island it had become, these same roots plunging down into the lava river below and quite expressly immune to the heat and the molten rock.

The council of the crowd began to propose solutions: creating land bridges, stringing up a series of ropes, using tamed flying animals to get close or perhaps even beseeching the Avariel for aid.

Thandriel then, the odd elf out in the crowd (and council) of mostly orcs, spoke up. "I think it would be prudent to test the Tree."

The veterans, scholars, and adventurers of the council looked to him, as did Zeri, and as did the common orcs of the crowd behind him.

Thandriel gestured out toward the Tree. "Look upon it. Who here would say that this is a normal tree, a thing of nature? It is not, and because of this I merely advise caution."

The Grizzled veteran, the same from before, considered what Thandriel had to say. And he did look to the tree, then back to Thandriel. Said, "Agreed. But who among us will test the foul creation?"

Zeri volunteered at once, speaking up with booming earnestness, "I can loose an arrow at it!"

The Grizzled veteran, as well as others of the council, shook their heads. He said, "I think it will require more than a simple arrow, young Zeri, if this Tree has magic about it that can be provoked."

The talk went back and forth on the best and most expedient, most effective way to try to test the unnatural Tree. Using magic was agreed upon, and as soon as it was, one of the scholars of the council spoke up calmly and firmly. His name was Urgish, and he had just gone to attend a mage academy in Alliria when the tragedy of Neha's awakening struck Bhathairk. Like many, he had made haste back his home city, and also like many, he found no evidence of his loved ones surviving. His wife, his one-year-old son, both he presumed to be dead. And so it was that he offered to be the one to test the Tree. To see if the Tree had magic about it that would either protect it...or retaliate. He fully accepted the risk.

The Grizzled veteran took Urgish's hand and pulled him into a brotherly hug. Meanwhile, other old and young warriors called for the rest of the crowd to "Get back" and to "Give him some space."

Zeri moved back with her Pa, they like many others taking what cover they could behind the ruins of the old Bhathairk and the strange new buildings that had ascended up from the undercity.

Zeri had a spot where she could peer out from around a broken corner and see Urgish, standing at the edge of the Tree's chasm and facing it down. To Thandriel, she said, "What do you think might happen, Pa?"

"I don't know," he said, beside her. "I hope nothing. But I fear something. Neha's blood brought about the Risen, so..."

Zeri, reminded of the shambling monsters that had once been her fellow tribesfolk, brought the heavy axe Weylin had gifted to her closer to her chest. "They were defeated. Neha was defeated. We can defeat this Tree and that Meadow too."

Thandriel laid a hand on her shoulder. Held it until she looked over to him. Said four simple words, and left it at that: "Think about the cost."

* * * * *​

Urgish stood alone. His two-hundred-some comrades had all backed away and taken shelter. The Grizzled veteran had wished upon him bravery and honor, and had likewise gone to take cover.

Urgish looked to the tree. Said the names of his wife and his child.

Then began to evoke the manifestation of ice magic between the palms of his hands, the blue and white energy swirling into being as he recited the necessary words and shaped it with the subtle movements of his fingers and channeled his arcane talent. Growing it. Growing it. He took aim at the Tree.

And Urgish launched his blast of magical ice at the thick, black trunk of the Tree.

Weylin Kyrel Caliane Ruinë

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Ice crawled up the thick trunk and down the gnarled roots. For a moment it looked as any other tree would when it was coated in midwinter ice and snow from the Norden lands. Then slowly cracks began to appear. The ice bubbled and dripped as it began to melt. Where the ice had made it to the red leaves it now fell down as rain upon those that stood below its branches.

The tree seemed to give a sad, sad sigh.

Then slowly, from the branches, came a fruit. It was offered to the orc.

 

[Zeri Rekani]

Zeri watched as Urgish the mage launched his blast of ice magic against the Tree. It struck the Tree as one might expect from such a barrage of magic. In that moment Zeri felt no insignificant touch of vindication: they could destroy it. They could have their city back. What happened with the Black Dragon was incredibly devastating, yes, incredibly demoralizing, yes--even Zeri herself had fallen into despair during the flight away from the city with Szesh, thinking that nothing could be done. But things could get better. Bhathairk could be healed.

Something happened after that hopeful while.

The magic did not hold. Was it the heat of the lava (even though it wasn't as bad as it ought to be)? Was it the Tree itself? Did the magic simply wane of its own accord after a while? Zeri couldn't tell, and Urgish's back was to her, so she could not read if he had an expression of confusion or not.

Then she gasped. And she heard several other similar gasps of astonishment from other tribesfolk taking cover who were likewise watching.

A fruit. From the tree. Moving. Coming down before Urgish. And Urgish glanced back over his shoulder, his brow narrowed in uncertainty.

"Don't touch it!" came a call from one of the tribesfolk watching.

"What happened?" Thandriel asked Zeri.

"Move away from it!" advised the Grizzled veteran from elsewhere among the ruins and buildings the scattered crowd were sheltering behind.

"Do not trust it!" Zeri shouted.

"Zeri, what's going on?" Thandriel asked again.

He couldn't see from his position, but Thandriel knew enough that something odd, perhaps unprecedented, had occurred. He thought he might see for himself, step out and peek from the corner as his daughter was doing. Just to get an idea of what was transpiring between Urgish and the Tree.

Then Zeri growled in determination and abruptly abandoned the corner of the ruined building and started marching toward Urgish and the fruit.

"Zeri, no-no-no, don't!" Thandriel said as soon as he realized what was going on. He made a dive to try and grab her, but missed, stumbling and landing on his stomach down on the ground.

Zeri kept her brisk pace. The axe Weylin had given her in both hands. She had her eyes on the fruit, and thoughts of her Ma in her mind.

She was on the approach.

* * * * *​

Urgish had looked over his shoulder after he saw the fruit being...offered? At first that was his thought, but then he ruled it more to be some kind of reaction than a conscious choice. He listened to the shouts and calls from his fellows back behind the cover of ruins and old buildings, saw their faces and their eyes. Watching him.

Then he looked back to the Tree. Took a few steps to the side, away from the fruit. He did not see Zeri approaching.

Urgish said in a low, steady voice, "You think a fruit will replace the wife and son that I lost?"

And at this he immediately felt foolish. Foolish to be talking to a tree. He was a more secularly-minded orc, less inclined to the religious beliefs in pervasive spirits throughout Arethil. Dark magic may infest this Tree, but it was still a tree. It did not listen and it did not speak. The true killer of his wife and son, the Great Dragon who could have heard and understood his words, was already dead. This tree was a hollow remnant, deaf and dumb against the immense suffering caused by the being that was its progenitor.

He left those thoughts behind. Focused again on his task. And he would see if this reaction was a fluke or if it would happen again. Or if something else might occur.

Urgish began to channel and prepare another blast of ice. His eyes on the Tree and not the fruit.

Weylin Kyrel Caliane Ruinë

 

[Weylin Kyrel]

A mule or ox was what Weylin needed right now. The handcart was almost too heavy for him to move on his own. It was mostly due to all the oil he had loaded up in it and there was still more he had to get on a second trip. Hopefully it would not be slower than a snail like this trip had become.

It was more than the weight in the cart that was making things so slow for the hunter. There was also the Risen, as he overheard some of the orcs call them, that roamed the ruins. White would bump his leg when she sensed one near them and the two would need to hide nearby for a bit. Sometimes it was in the rubble off to the side of the street. Sometimes it was under the cart. Sometimes in the cart. It depended on what the best place was at the time. It slowed his progress down greatly but at least he wasn't having to risk a fight.

==================

Eventually Weylin made it to the Meadow. His first time here and he hadn't expected to find what he found. The space of wilderness here was huge. Towns could be laid side by side in it from the Spine and it might have more space. How such a contrast from the cramped, clustered city could exist within it was a riddle that the hunter knew he could never solve.

How was he going to kill all of this?

As much as Weylin felt at home here and safe, he needed to get rid of it. He needed to find a way to get rid of it. This was what he told Zeri he would do. All of this needed to die for her.

But how was he going to kill all of it?

The oil the hunter had collected was not going to be enough. He needed more. He needed better fuel for flames.... Black stuff! He needed that black stuff his dad had told him about. What did his dad call it? Pitch! That was it. He needed pitch. If he could find enough pitch then he could spread it out and burn down the Meadow with it and the supplies he had already collected.

Where could he find pitch though? His dad had mentioned it and where it was often used. What were they?

The hunter began to unload his cart as he thought over everything his dad had told him about pitch. There was something about it that. Something that connected this pitch stuff with something similar used back home. Something that was daily used.....

Weylin froze up as he was holding several shovels in his hands. He was embarrassed and felt dumb. Pitch could be made from pine sap. They used it to water proof things and seal up holes in his settlement. It looked different but there was another kind that was black his dad was talking about. Both were highly flammable.

Instead of the warehouse Weylin needed to instead go down to the docks. There was sure to be tons of pitch there, or at least he hoped there would be. He could still use his idea but now it required pitch rather than oil. And it was going to require a lot of it.

So Weylin got his handcart unloaded and began to follow the scent of the sea towards what he hoped was a treasure trove.

Zeri Rekani Caliane Ruinë

 

[Zeri Rekani]

Zeri marched up toward the fruit that had descended down to Urgish. Eyes were upon her from around the ruins where the rest of the tribesfolk had hidden, watching as she drew closer, curiosity and worry and hope and dread all abounding among they who observed. It was too late for Thandriel to do something, to rush out and grab her and pull her back, so all he could do was stand and watch like the rest of them.

Urgish had been preparing his follow-up ice magic spell, and the magic shot forth at the Tree (to what would be the same result as before) once Zeri stopped in front of the fruit. Urgish noticed her, said something, but she paid him no mind.

She stared at fruit, her brow narrowed.

(I couldn't do a single thing to save my Ma. I couldn't do anything for Bhathairk. And not a single orc could. Not one. No tribesorc could stand against the Black Dragon's evil power. All our heroes live in the past.)

Zeri's mouth curled open into a snarl.

(But I can do this. This I have the strength to do! This I can! I can! Bhathairk couldn't be spared from destruction, but it can be healed! It can! I know it can! This Tree and all of its poisonous fruits can be gone! Gone!)

She hefted the axe up over her head.

(I can give my Ma the Bhathairk she had always known back! I can! And then she can rest in peace! She deserves it.)

Let out a howling battlecry.

(Mama, I love you. More than anything. I'm making Bhathairk better for you, Ma. Wherever you are...watch me.)

And swung the axe down at the fruit.

Caliane Ruinë Weylin Kyrel

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

The fruit fell to the floor cleaved clean in two with a dull thud. Juices splattered both the orcs standing underneath the tree and they were sweet and delicious. Nothing sinister happened to the pair but rather the opposite. The fruit brought energy and strength, wiping away any hurts or ailments they might have had including sleepless nights.

The axe however had a curious effect on the fruit. Where it had cleaved the fruit it had sped up its natural cycle and even as it lay among the roots of the tree it began to rot and dissolve back into the earth once more.

 

[Zeri Rekani]

The axe swung all the way in a downward arc to the ground, the axehead lodging partially into it. Zeri recoiled when the juices splattered her, and Urgish flinched. Pa shouted her name from back by the ruins. She looked at her hands, her arms, expecting those bruises that had come from the Plague Ash--or something like them--to begin bursting into agonized being. It didn't happen.

And a rush of excitement, of energy, filled her. Ha! Ha, ha! She did it! She really did it! Pa had been worried, but Pa was wrong! The Tree was a monolith to the Black Dragon's massacre, a symbol of Bhathairk's utter devastation, but it could be torn down. Magic of some kind may be about it or may not, but they could do this! The orcs of Bhathairk could reclaim their home from the Black Dragon! Every last inch of it!

Zeri turned and faced her fellow tribesfolk who had taken cover. She raised a fist triumphantly and declared, "We can do this! And the Black Dragon's magic can't stop us!"

The proof was right before her. Once broken off from the whole, the fruit had shriveled. Perhaps the whole Tree could be made to wither if they only just broke it apart, bit by bit and piece by piece. It was strong while it was together, but the orcs of Bhathairk were stronger! It would take many hands, many grueling hours of work, but it could be done!

(Did you see me, Mama? Did you?)

* * * * *​

Urgish, meanwhile, seemed to be having hesitant thoughts. His eyes were downcast and darting around in consideration. He had tasted some of the juice from the fruit. And the minor onset of arthritis in his fingers--what was commonly called Caster's Fingers--was gone. Just gone. His tinnitus, as well, that had plagued him for years. Gone. It was the first time he had ever heard the world without that constant, low-grade tone buzzing in his ears in a long, long while. He did not know what to think now. This was so far beyond his expectations for what was going to happen that it arrested him for a moment.

Then he brought a half-closed fist to his mouth.

He loved his wife and his son. Loved them. He would die in their stead; he would sacrifice himself if he had the choice and if such would bring them back.

But he feared...he feared that his people, led by this girl, might be making a terrible mistake.

And that he was helping them.

* * * * *​

Slowly, the tribesfolk emerged from behind their cover in the ruins and crowded once more by the edge of the chasm. Some still cautiously regarding the Black Tree before them. Some not worrying about it at all now. Some with straightforward and practical mindsets simply listening in on the plan being developed.

The veterans, scholars, and adventurers all began to talk on how best to approach the Tree. Even though nothing spectacular happened with Urgish's testing and Zeri's cleaving, none were willing to consider the roots a safe way to approach the Tree. Not in the slightest. Even if the Tree could not move them as it could the fruits, the roots could break off in some kind of unforeseen reaction once the work had begun.

No. They needed safety, and they needed space for most of the orcs to work. These were the requirements, and they called for a land bridge to be made. The veterans and seasoned adventurers, those experienced in matters of leadership, put out a call: if you know of a geomancer, shaman, ice/frost mage, earthworker, stonemason, anyone but especially those first three with magic useful in this regard, summon them. Go find them and summon them. And everyone else was to begin shoveling dirt close to the Tree's chasm in preparation for it to be used either by magical or mundane means to create workable land around the Tree--at least enough for one side of it.

The matter of how exactly to remove the Tree would be discussed next.

Weylin Kyrel

 

[Weylin Kyrel]

The way down to the docks was oddly clear. Unlike before he hadn't run into any of the Risen. Was it because of the salt in the wind? Doubtful. Perhaps the big group of orcs had attracted them away? Maybe. This was foreign and strange to him. The orcs. This city. These things.

Empty. The docks were empty. No ships. No boats. No people. No birds. It was strange how lifeless it was. His gaze went to the beach. Shells. Perhaps not so lifeless.

The hunter left his cart and began to poke around the place. It didn't take long. Barrels of pitch were everywhere. Each warehouse had several barrels of the stuff. There was more than enough here for his needs. So he got to work getting them all gathered up in one place and from there onto his handcart.

==========================

It took him awhile but he got what he figured would be enough pitch for the meadow. Barrel after barrel after barrel was unloaded. He was already exhausted. The day wasn't that far in and he was already exhausted.... And he still had to get to the actual work of destroying this peaceful, calming meadow.

Zeri would never appreciate what he was doing for her enough.

Weylin looked at everything he had assembled. Would it be enough? He didn't know. Not knowing only made him paranoid he wasn't prepared enough for this task. There needed to be more pitch.

So the hunter got the handcart emptied once again and began to head back to the dock. He was already feeling hungry. Good thing there was shell out there. He could go collect some shellfish and cook them up while he rested. Then he could get more pitch and get to the hardest part of this task: getting the meadow ready to be set ablaze.

Zeri Rekani Caliane Ruinë

 

[Zeri Rekani]

EARLY NIGHT AT THE BLACK TREE​

From the evening that marked the tail end of Zeri's rallying speeches at the Gates and the march on the Tree, now came the setting of the sun and the rise of the stars and the moon.

The search was still going for the magic-users and the mundane craftsorcs whose innate talents or learned expertise would aid in the construction of the land bridge around the Tree. But in the meantime, those who remained at the site of the Tree all had tools in hand. Shovels primarily, but anything that could help: buckets and pails, pickaxes, regular axes, pitchforks. Whatever it took to move dirt. And that was it, the simple but arduous task at hand. Move mounds and mounds of dirt close to the chasm to provide the base material for the soon-to-be made land bridge.

Zeri was among the workers. Spade in hand, sweating in rivulets as she dug a lump of dirt out from the ground some distance away and carried it to the Tree chasm's edge and then repeating. She had set the axe Weylin had given to her down by a ruin, a home where literally only the very southeast corner of it survived and was still standing like some kind of shriveled sapling.

Pa was working as well. He would pass by Zeri with an empty shovel as she was going to pile hers at the chasm's edge, then pass by her again when her own spade was empty. Back and forth. He had been somewhat distraught after what happened with the fruit, and had asked her several times if she was alright, if she was okay, if she was alright, are you sure you're okay, sweetheart. But he calmed down finally when he saw that she was.

Then something broke the monotony of the work.

Urgish. As Zeri was heading back to get another spade-ful of dirt, he approached her. Looking a bit...unwell? Uneasy? He seemed anxious about something.

"Zeri," Urgish said. "May I have a word with you?"

Zeri blinked. "Oh. S-Sure. What's on your mind?"

"Over here."

And he gently laid a hand on her arm and guided her off to the side of the working orcs and tribesfolk. More or less out of clear earshot.

"So what is it?" Zeri said. She planted the head of her spade into the ground.

Urgish seemed to have trouble deciding where to begin. Then, "Did you...did anything happen to you? When the juice of the fruit touched your skin?"

Zeri raised an eyebrow. Then blinked a few times and a chord of worry played across her expression. She thought about it. Tried to think about anything that seemed off to her. "...No? Why? Why do you ask? Oh gosh, Urgish, are you hurt? Is something wrong?"

He held up his hands in a bid for her to stop. "No, no, no. I'm not hurt. Nothing is wrong, either. I just..." He made a slightly exasperated sound. "Are you sure you didn't feel anything when the juice touched you?"

Zeri's eyes widened a bit sheepishly, like a child that has been asked a question that she doesn't know the answer to. Her shoulders slowly ascended into a gradual shrug. "I...well, I felt excited, of course. You know how that is, right? You know how that is. Like you could pick up the Bald Mountain itself and throw it across the Bystra River."

Urgish shifted in his stance. Bowed his head and touched one of his tusks in an unsure way. Then he looked at her and simply came out and said it, "Zeri, I used to have constant pain in my hands and ringing in my ears. I was an orc who was not in perfect health, despite the efforts of healers and medicines. But when that juice touched my skin...the pain and the ringing went away."

Zeri just looked at him. Just looked at Urgish as if his own uncertainty had jumped from him and landed squarely in her own heart.

"It's the truth, Zeri," he said. "I will swear upon my Ancestors if such will make any difference, but I say to you now that it is the truth."

Zeri couldn't look at him. Her voice was tiny. "...What if it was a trick?"

"Zeri," Urgish said with an undeniable urgency in his tone. "Listen to me. Listen to what I am saying to you. My pain, my ailment, both are gone. Gone where I could not elsewhere find relief." He snatched both of her hands in his with a pleading suddenness that made Zeri gasp. "Look at me. I believe with utter sincerity that it was no trick. There is something special about that Tree, regardless of where it came from!"

Zeri struggled briefly to wrench her hands free, then said, "It came from the Black Dragon. The same Black Dragon that killed your wife and your son and my Ma, Urgish! Don't...don't believe--!"

"I love my wife and my son. I would do anything for them. But this...this...look at what we're doing, Zeri. Look! Destroying the Tree will do nothing for them, nothing for your Ma either. And what will we be taking away? Think about this, Zeri! Think about this!"

"You're hurting me!"

His grip tightened further. "What you're doing here IS A MISTAKE!"

"LET GO!"

Urgish, stunned, finally realized what he was doing and let go of Zeri's hands. She stepped back. Brought her hands in a bunch up toward the bottom of her chin. Regarded Urgish with a mixture of caution, reproach, and shocked betrayal.

"I'm sorry," Urgish said, looking ashamed. "I didn't..."

A silent moment, wracked with uncertainty, between the two of them under the pale light of the impassive stars.

Weylin Kyrel

 

[Weylin Kyrel]

The dock came into view for Weylin once more. Salt in the air. Misty breeze on his face. It still felt so strange but in a calming way. Natural. The dock felt more natural. Less trapped. The city might be behind him but the safety of the open ocean was before him.

The hunter had been standing in place staring. For how long? He looked up at the sky. A few minutes.

He got moving the cart again towards the place the pitch was at.

=======================

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrh.

Weylin was reminded how hungry he was. It had been all day with no food. Not uncommon for him although this time at least it was by choice. He couldn't load up more barrels of pitch and he needed a break. All of this he already knew. It was why he came down here. Water meant food and his parents had talked about how easy it was to find food on beaches during low tides. Not something he was familiar with from the creeks and rivers. Was something he was familiar with because of Crobhear Lake.

The hunter left his cart behind and began to walk down towards the beach. Hopefully it was low tide right now.

On his way down an owl flew by him and behind some barrels. Mother Owl stood up. The woman began to stretch stiff limbs and joints as the younger man approached her.

"Mother Owl." Weylin said as he bowed his head to her a bit. She gave him a smile back. "Are you hungry?"

"Oh indeed I am young pup." The older woman said before turning her gaze towards the ocean. "But you won't be finding right now. High tide has returned."

The hunter frowned as he looked out to the waves. A soft hand was placed on his shoulder.

"Good thing I came here yesterday." Mother Owl said with a cheerful tone and smile. "Come come! Talk to me young pup. Tell me why you are so focused on helping out your friend while I cook. Eating alone is bad for your health and cooking alone is boring."

=======================

A kitchen in an abandoned home was alive once more. Mother Owl was busy getting wild garlic chopped up while crabs clattered in a basket. She was humming softly like chirping birds. Weylin sat at a table. His outer layers had been removed. He felt safer inside this home than out in the streets. Strange revelation for him.

"Talk young pup. Why are you helping your orc friend?" Mother Owl said as she continued without skipping a beat in her cooking.

"She lost her family. Not all like me, but still lost family." Weylin said as his eyes roamed around the room.

"Empathy. Good." Mother Owl chirped happily. "But why action? Why burn a meadow? Why chop down a tree? Why kill life?"

Weylin was silent. The chopping stopped. Scent of garlic filled the air. A pot over flames began to bubble as it boiled. The older woman moved effortlessly into killing and gutting crabs for the pot. In they went along with some garlic. On with the lid.

Silence between them lasted awhile as the woman prepared the shellfish that needed to be prepared. Eventually he said, "Bad with words. Think it will help her find peace. Help her accept things."

"Is that so?" Mother Owl said as she popped the shellfish into a pot with the garlic and set it up to cook as well. She turned around and looked right at him. "Action is good. Get your hands busy young pup. Make your girl friend a trinket. I found some pretty shells and a pearl you can have."

Weylin blushed a bit at the older woman's words. Did she say it that way on purpose? He ignored it and went about doing as she had asked.

=======================

Zeri's Location

As the silence fell between Zeri and Urgish, an owl suddenly hooted loudly as it flew by them. From behind a bit of rubble walked out a woman with peppered hair dressed in clothes of leather, fur, and feathers. She smiled to the pair of orcs as she approached.

"Zeri. I was looking for you." the woman said before waving her over to her. "Come come. You must be hungry. I made you some food and Weylin made something that can help you."

The older woman smiled cheerfully to the pair.

Zeri Rekani Caliane Ruinë

 

[Zeri Rekani]

Urgish flinched slightly when he heard a new voice. Zeri, still clearly troubled by what had just happened, only looked at Mother Owl once she had finished speaking.

Both Zeri and Urgish started to say something, each getting out a single syllable, then both stopped. They looked at each other, both gazes trembling with uncertainty.

The brief moment of tense awkwardness passed, and Zeri said to Mother Owl, slow and quiet, "Okay...I'll come with you."

"I'm sorry," Urgish said again to Zeri. Not meeting her eyes. And again, "I'm sorry."

Urgish briskly started off back toward the rest of the working orcs around the chasm of the Tree then. Zeri watched him go. Swallowed with a parched throat. Then looked back to Mother Owl.

Said, "Can you give me a minute? I should tell my Pa where I'm going and that I'll be back."

Without waiting for a clear answer from Mother Owl, Zeri walked stiffly back toward the greater bulk of the working orcs as well. She approached one of the few elves among them. Had some words with him in the distance. Then came back. Perhaps it had been two minutes in total.

She approached Mother Owl, trying her best to look enthused. "Okay. We can go."

Weylin Kyrel

 

[Weylin Kyrel]

Time had past by quickly when Mother Owl had been cooking while Weylin was making his gift for Zeri. The food was ready and his gift done before he knew it. But instead of eating with him, the older woman just made two portions of food for travel and took his gift. Then she left in a swirl of words and feathers out the door.

The hunter was alone with his crab and shellfish alone in the abandoned home. Perhaps not fully alone. White was with him.

So he ate in silence before getting back to his work.

======================

Mother Owl just waited with a smile and seemingly infinite patience for the young orc woman. Zeri could have taken an hour and the older woman would still be waiting there cheerfully for her return.

"Come come little hero. Let us find a place to eat." Mother Owl said in a voice seeming on the verge of singing.

The woman swaggered her way with swaying hips to a spot the two could sit and eat in peace. Humming that sounds like singing birds came from her along the way. Once she was there she got herself sat down on a stone. Two wrapped bundles were produced. Homemade cloth was unwrapped from around little wicker baskets and inside was still hot crab meat and shellfish all cooked with garlic. She set one down by herself and the other by Zeri.

"Eat. All of it is fresh and freshly cooked. I know because I made it." Mother Owl cheerfully said. She then produced another item. It was a bracelet made from seashells around a leather thong that was held in place by a white pearl. She held it out to the orcess. "And this is from the young pup. He made it himself for you."

Zeri Rekani

 

[Zeri Rekani]

Little hero? Zeri didn't know what to make of that. She certainly didn't think of herself as a hero, even if she quietly dreamed of being one. But, more and more, there was a silent erosion of this dream in her heart, set into motion by the awakening of the Black Dragon and sustained by all that followed.

She followed Mother Owl through the ruins. Mother Owl sat on a stone, Zeri on the ground. The faint smell of food was the first thing to disrupt the tension and anxiety that clung to her after the incident with Urgish. Zeri accepted the basket and unwrapped the cloth and saw the meat inside and her mouth watered. A hard, begging twist of her stomach came, as if she all at once allowed herself to realize that she was terribly hungry after the hours spent gathering a crowd and the subsequent manual labor with the dirt.

She immediately perked up. "Oh gosh, oh gosh, thank you!" And took a couple quick and voracious bites of the crab meat, seeming to melt into satisfied relaxation once the taste of it permeated her tongue.

And this is from the young pup. He made it himself for you.

Zeri eyed the bracelet with a surprised and curious reception. She wiped the tips of her fingers off on the cloth of the basket and accepted the bracelet. Carefully slipped it on to her left wrist, then twisted her arm this way and that way to look at it.

"Aww...it's beautiful." She looked back up to Mother Owl. "Where is Weylin? I thought that you were going to take me to him. I know he doesn't like big crowds--" (Or orcs, came an intrusive thought) "--but is he doing okay?"

Weylin Kyrel

 

[Weylin Kyrel]

Mother Owl just sat there humming like a lark while she ate her meal. It had been too long since she last got to eat from the sea. She had to settle for what came from the massive lake in the Spine. The food was good but she wanted a change after awhile.

A cheerful smile was given to Zeri every time she spoke. When the orcess finally asked about the young pup though she finally answered.

"I left him at the docks with food. Likely finished and gotten back to gathering his barrels of goop by now." A bit of a giggle escaped her lips. "The young pup has been working very hard for you all by himself. I think he plans to burn that whole meadow down himself using that goop and killing off even the seeds sleeping in the soil. Such a sad fate for nature."

The woman popped a shellfish into her mouth and chewed happily. After she swallowed she said, "He doesn't like doing it you know. Killing off nature. Goes against our very instincts. But he thinks it will help you find peace."

Mothr Owl's eyes took on a predatory gaze like that of an owl locking its eyes onto a still mouse. "Will it little hero or are you just lashing out like a child?"

===========================

Weylin was huffing. It had taken him little time to eat so he didn't get much of a rest before he was back to gathering barrels of pitch. There was so many at the dock and he knew exactly where to go so that took him little time as well. The issue was the task was exhausting and this was before the time consuming part of hauling them back to the meadow by pulling his handcart.

His body already felt ready for sleep. It was dark, his stomach was full for once, and he had been active all day. Now would be a great time for rest. But he couldn't yet. He wouldn't rest. Not till the meadow was ablaze. The orcess said it needed to go and he would make it go away.

Zeri Rekani