Threes

As the morning light awoke them, Sen was already exploring the place. He stretched and was interrupted by her coming over excitedly with something in her hands.

As she showed him, he smirked. She had found the spot. There was a place in the orchard with many dead trees that had been overgrown by a vine-like plant. That plant had a cluster of fruit that would be ready to harvest, despite the tree’s normal fruit having a different season.

He had wanted to spend time there with her, as it would be beautiful this time of year, but she was already cooking and discussing the next location. Bard noticed the birds, and Sen paused and crept closer to him.

“Why do you keep watching the birds?” she asked, pointedly. Bard put his gaze on her and shrugged. Her brow furrowed. “That’s not an answer,” she chided, and he suppressed a laugh.

“It’s not, is it?” he remarked. She frowned. “Fine, fine. I like birds. They are the messengers of the trees. You remember Elder Communication, right?” Bard answered as she put her hand on his lap. Impulsively, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. She tilted her head with a grin before looking at the birds.

“Would they know where to look for the stone?” she asked. Bard shrugged and she raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take that as a yes. You’ve been strangely avoidant lately.” Bard felt a slight sting. He hadn’t intended to be that way, but it was hard for him to figure out how not to bring things to her attention when it was so obvious. Inadvertently, he found himself creating the same thing he had avoided, being an answer to her journey when he hadn’t wanted it.

Sen followed the birds for a bit, but when they scattered she quickly turned on him and walked back, a slight thump of disappointment speaking loudly about her frustrations. He mostly found her speed incredible. Yes, she had a much shorter time than he had, but it only enforced just how silly he felt about his behavior as a child.

As they packed up and walked around, following the birds where they could, they spent the majority of the day in staggered slow steps, making some progress and then not. Sen’s mounting impatience grew.

“Take it easy,” he said, reaching for her hand. Sen shook her head as they watched the birds scatter again.

“Was that really a hint? Or was I just imagining things?” she moaned. “And you’re not going to answer, are you.”

“Nope,” Bard answered, and she growled.

“You can be so frustrating,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Well…” he said, feeling a bit bad about his role in this. “At least it didn’t take you a year.”

“Wait… a year?” she said, and Bard moved his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “But, it's been so easy…”

“Don’t rub it in,” Bard quipped with a sigh. “Honestly, I was young.”

“Oh! Story time?” she chuckled and Bard paused before relenting.

“Father sent me here first,” he began as they walked, and Sen kept them moving. He shared how as a young boy, he had always preferred play, and Father took care of a lot of his needs and wants. But as he became a fledgling teen, father said he needed to visit grandpa pathfinder and do a test. Sen found it humorous. While it wasn’t a bad memory, and there were some beautiful things he had seen and experienced, he didn’t enjoy Pathfinder’s rebuff when he hadn’t even found the first thing by the sixth month he had been here. “After that, he had me work for my food and shelter. It encouraged me to find the three things and get back home, though father sent me with Kai to the first city and trained me on more instruments. That ended my play filled days,” Bard sighed, wistfully.

“Well. How old were you really?” she asked. Bard paused as he thought back on it.

“Thirteen… I think. Though, I can’t say all thirteen-year-olds are up to the task. Especially after watching the kids at the village.”

“Certainly not dryads. We are still too young at that age,” she remarked.

“I wonder how our kids will grow,” Bard said as his mind wandered there. Sen became still, and he quickly realized that she was uncomfortable. Thankfully, a larger bird, the same waterfowl that had led them to the herb, stopped in front of them and Sen was distracted.

She followed, encouraging Bard to come along as the bird did it’s unique walk ahead of them. Whenever Sen stepped in between him and the bird, he felt something strange about it. It almost reminded him of something, and he couldn’t figure it out. Eventually, a glint of sunlight sparkled off a rock in front of them, and Bard froze. The bird looked like that one.

Before he could put a larger grasp on the idea, Sen pointed to that glistening rock and shouted at him excitedly, wrenching him from his thoughts. Bard caught up and stood next to her as the bird flew off. On it were markings, ancient writings. Beside the plinth with the glistening rock were smaller stones riddled with markings and writings on them. Bard pulled out the drying herb and Sen held the fruits she had plucked. Bard motioned for her to place them beside the rock. As she took them, they heard an interesting hum and looked back to see Pathfinder’s whole forest shifting towards them. Bard smiled, remembering the day he found this place as well. Sen looked on in wonder. Eventually, the ground below them began to undulate as the trees moved in and surrounded the place. Pathfinder himself came closest and Sen looked up at the giant tree. Bard motioned for her to finish putting the items together at the rock, and she did so before turning and bowing respectfully to the old tree. Bard joined her, noting all the birds that were nearby.

“And now you understand,” he said simply, his roots coming over and inspecting her offerings. Sen looked up and frowned. Bard looked at her, and she looked on, even more confused.

“I do?” she asked. Pathfinder’s root picked up the herb. It’s drying leaves made it look a bit sad in comparison to the fruit.

“This can only be found where water runs steady. Healing cannot come from a dry place,” he answered. Sen’s eyes grew wide as she looked at it and then at Bard. That plant was medicine, but it also wasn’t doing well without water.

“You need a source while you heal,” she said, and Bard bit on his lip. He felt that. Sen had been there while he mourned the loss of those elders. He eyed the old tree. Just how much had communication and honor told him? This felt more pointed at him than Sen, even though the lesson was similar.

“And this?” his root set the herb down, grabbing the fruit. “A tree that bears fruit before it’s time?” Sen looked on confused and Bard swallowed hard.

“Sometimes…” his voice felt weak. “Healing comes before you think you’re ready for it, or before…” his gaze flicked to Sen, “you realize it’s happening.”

There was a stirring breeze that made some flowers fall from Pathfinder. His roots slid down and then around the plinth, before gently touching the stones.

“And this,” he said softly. Sen’s head tilted a few times before she seemed ready. His roots moved over the inscriptions.

“The past leaves marks?” she asked, hesitating a bit.

“Yes,” Pathfinder said softly as Sen let out a breath of relief. “But the past does not decide where the path leads next.”

A strange silence settled over them. Bard was impressed she had figured that much out. Then again, as an obstinate child, perhaps Pathfinder had seen fit to make him come up with the lessons on his own, rather than so elegantly guide them. Pathfinder shifted, as if looking at the two of them.

“You found the path,” he said, as if to both of them. Bard’s gaze flicked to Sen, and she looked at him in turn.

Sen sat there quietly, before Bard moved to her location and sat next to her. Pathfinder became silent, inordinately silent. Sen’s gaze shifted between the two of them.

“My token?” she asked, and Bard flinched. She was right. A root flitted over and then tapped her forehead.

“In due time. Rest a few days. Talk with one another and walk together. This place is safe,” Pathfinder said, before making the ground shake before moving back to his original location.