Chapter 4

Haledon tossed and turned in the night as his body fluctuated between fevers and chills.

He found himself digging into the bed only to pull himself out moments later. Until, eventually, leaving one leg dangling over the edge, he found the perfect balance.

Between the restless sleep, his mind drifted through vague dreams. Dreams he had never had. For he only ever had one, the dream of the night before. The same dream that came once a year, marking the completion of his ring.

But then the Druids of Earth arrived, and now, a new dream came to him.

He followed a sparrow through an endless and alien forest. The woods were as familiar as they were new before he came upon a meadow. There, a jet-black wolf sat with its snout dipped into a silver lake.

The wind whispered against Haledon's neck as it pushed through him to the unsuspecting creature. Reeds along the shore sang and flexed under the gust before the wolf raised its head and looked to Haledon. Their two eyes locked for a moment as the familiar pink moon began to rise over the horizon.

Standing on two legs, the wolf bridged the distance between them. Haledon waited for it to reach him as his heart raced with anticipation. Placing a paw on his shoulder, it spoke clearly.

"One day, you will do much more for this Astralaceae than I ever could have."

The wolf looked down at him for a moment, reverence in its locked gaze.

"Haledon!" A voice screamed from behind.

Turning to face it, he was able to see a sprinting Primeval Druid Sparrow as she ducked under branches and jumped over roots. In her hands, an abyssal black crossbow loaded with a clip of silver bolts.

She stopped, levelling the object in a fluid motion before firing. The arrow sliced through the air beside Haledon and, with a hollow thud, impacted the wolf. A booming howl cut through the night as the creature fell backward into the water.

Haledon awoke from his dream with a start. Sitting up in the darkness, he choked on a cough while grasping at the leaves around him. After a moment of panic, he placed his sweat-drenched face into his hands and forced himself to breathe.

His frantic gasps began to slow as the dream faded from his mind. Tension arose in his chest, and he took a moment to massage it. Eventually, another deep breath found him before exhaling it slowly.

Pulling his head out of his hands, the room began to cycle through the sunrise. He turned to get out of the bed, suddenly coming face-to-face with a wooden stump.

"Has anyone told you—" Witch-Hazel began, but was cut off by the scream of Haledon.

Scurrying backward, he toppled out of bed. Leaves were scattered across the floor with his flailing, as a few clung to the sweat of his body.

"Has anyone told you,” Witch-Hazel continued, “That you whimper like a babe in your sleep?"

"Witch-Hazel, what...what are you doing here?"

Stepping up and over the bed, Witch-Hazel positioned itself beside Haledon. Its large hand reached down and grabbed him by the arm, gently lifting him to his feet.

"Sparrow instructed me to watch over you."

"Were you there all night?"

"I was there the moment you left the Hypogeal Nexus." The two stared awkwardly at each other for a moment before Witch-Hazel continued. "I heard what you said about me..."

"Witch-Hazel, I—" Haledon quickly replied, feeling his cheeks growing warm.

"A blighted oak...I'll remember that."

"I didn't mean to—"

"No, no. I'm just a dense tree, don't mind me."

Witch-Hazel stomped its feet into the floor and began to take root. Its torso and legs turned to a thick bark as the body transformed into a sturdy trunk. The bramble head began to expand, branching out foliage that reached to the roof and wove itself in with ease. In moments, the body of Witch-Hazel had disappeared, and a gnarled oak had taken up the room.

"Witch-Hazel..." Haledon begged as he placed a hand on the trunk. "You're quite intelligent for whatever you are. I just don't know much about you other than you're a tree."

"I am an Arboreal Defender," The air of the room seemed to vibrate with the voice. "A Bramble Knight to be precise."

"What is that, though. I don't know what those words mean."

"I pledged a blood oath to Nature. I will not rest until we have purged every Mecharrion from our garden."

Haledon stared at the oaken Witch-Hazel. He shook his head and rubbed at his temples.

"Blood oaths...Mecharrion?" He said, removing his hand from the tree. "I don't understand, Witch-Hazel."

"Maybe you're the dense tree?" It replied.

A crevice opened up in the tree trunk, and a trio of vines extended a piece of bark out. Examining it, Haledon noticed that the slab had a pattern of three interlacing spirals on the front.

"Put this on—" Witch-Hazel spoke as the branches and roots forced it into Haledon’s hands. The tree began to transform back into a humanoid shape.

"What is it?" Haledon asked as he took hold of the wood and scrutinized it. It was light, flexible, and surprisingly durable. Haledon attempted to bend the bark, to snap it, but it maintained its shape even with full strength.

"It's your SOIL."

"My what?"

"Semi-Organic Integrated Lifeform." Witch-Hazel slowly explained. "It's a bit more functional than...foliage."

Haledon looked down over his nude body and back at Witch-Hazel.

"Umm, so what do I do? Do I need my other bramble first?"

"No, just...just put it on your chest—" Witch-Hazel was finally out of its tree form, which had begun to retreat into the walls of the ship. Instead, it now began to fumble with the wooden breastplate. "Here." It finished, shoving the object to Haledon’s torso.

Haledon was pleasantly surprised to find a warm softness when the bark touched his bare flesh. Like the adhesive pads of Gazeas vines, the plate stuck to his chest and seemed to pump his body full of heat.

Witch-Hazel leaned over and stared at the wooden plate. With a gentle knock of its twisted-vine knuckles against Haledon's bark, the SOIL came alive.

Tendrils crawled out in every direction, stretching and covering his skin. With each vine setting into place, he felt the heat in his chest spreading out. It flowed over his body, like a drizzle of honey, from head to toe. And, as it covered him, he felt his body submerging into a state of tingly comfort.

Looking himself over, he couldn't help but admire the SOIL. Dark brown bark covered him from his feet to the waist, where it transformed into a cloak of vibrant oval leaves. White and yellow flowers bloomed sporadically over his body.

"Interesting," Witch-Hazel mused. "Black Locust. What an intriguing SOIL default."

"What? What does that mean?"

"The SOIL defaults to the best species, dependent on the user. Black Locust is defensive and supportive."

"Is that good?" Haledon raised his arms from under the cloak to reveal a trio of whip-like vines extending from both hands. "Ah!"

"Why do you have vines?" Witch-Hazel asked, crouching and trying to get a better look at a flailing Haledon.

"I don't want vines." He yelled, trying to detach them from his wrist.

"You obviously do, because the suit grew them!"

Haledon flailed his arms around, the vines tangling along his legs as he tried to dance over them. He stumbled and teetered until finally tumbling to the ground.

Witch-Hazel released a hearty laugh as it stood over Haledon.

"Ugh, this is...frustrating," Haledon muttered as he struggled to liberate himself.

Grabbing at the vines, he eventually freed his legs. Ripping them from around his wrists, he mounded the excess into a heap on the floor. There he sat for a moment to look at them as they began to decompose.

"There, no more vines," Witch-Hazel said, helping him up. "Though I think they looked good on you. Very seventh-layer."

Haledon smiled at Witch-Hazel. "Thank you. And no, no vines."

"Your ecosystem, your choice. Sparrow is waiting."

"She's already in the Nexus?"

"Oh, young sapling. She never left."

Haledon shook his head in disbelief. He had silently hoped that Sparrow would take his cycle off, giving him the ability to enjoy the Nexus in relative peace.

With a nod from Haledon, the two make their way out of the room. As he passed through the grass screen, Witch-Hazel glided seamlessly through the wall in pursuit.

They entered the corridor in tandem, and Haledon found himself nearly pressed back into his den. The crew change was busier than usual as dozens of new faces walked amongst familiar ones, all bearing a distinctly battered and worn look.

The familiar breastplates affixed to their chests were dark redwood. The armour had become overgrown along their arms and legs, creating oblong shields that jutted out. Branches twisted and coiled around their waists with the occasional dangling evergreen sprigs.

Finely crafted crossbows rest over each Druid's shoulder. The polished desert ironwood relaxed, but always near a quiver of silver arrows. The same bolts he had just dreamt.

"Who are they?"

"Sequoia Squad," Witch-Hazel replied, acknowledging a pair passing by. They returned a polite nod. "Tactical Succession Experts."

"Tacti—what?"

"They shoot the invasive species."

"Shoot? What invasive species? Why do they need crossbows?"

"Hey, those are great questions...for Sparrow."

"But she didn't answer a single one yesterday."

"Fair...she does do that. Here," Witch-Hazel stopped and, gently hunching over, grabbed at Haledon's shoulder. "I'll answer one of your questions. The crossbow? They need the crossbow to shoot—also referred to as killing—the invasive species."

There was a pause as the two looked at each other. Eventually, Witch-Hazel stood up and looked off at an angle.

"Look at that," It mused. "I answered two out of three of the questions. I should become a mother tree."

Patting him on the shoulder, Witch-Hazel continued walking down the corridor.

Haledon stared ahead at the walking tree and then back to the Sequoia Squad. As he gawked, he felt his skin begin to itch under his thigh plate and over his shoulder. Struggling to find purchase with a scratch, he squirmed after the bramble knight.

"My SOIL is itchy."

"Don't scratch it."

"But, it's so bad—" Haledon whined and scratched at the suit.

"If you scratch it, you'll die."

"No, I won't, you're lying."

Witch-Hazel turned and looked down at Haledon. There was no sign of dishonesty along the rigid bark face, but the Druid wasn't convinced. Eventually, Witch-Hazel nodded its head towards the grass screen of the Hypogeal Nexus. Haledon walked through, his arm grasping at the shoulder itch.

"Sparrow…?" He walked in, calmly asking.

His heart dropped into his stomach while his eyes grew wide as he stared at the large tree trunk that had formed in the center of the room.

"What have you done?!" He yelled, running up and placing a hand on the tree. “My Nexus!”

Haledon rested his head against it, listening to the constant thrumming of nutrients pulsing through it at inconsistent intervals.

"I've integrated what you once had segregated.” Sparrow's voice met his ears. “You'll be able to catch and store energy much more efficiently from the pith of this root mass."

Running his hands along the surface, he felt a deep sadness from the change. The disruption in his ecosystem had shocked him to the point that he couldn't remain silent.

"Sparrow, you cannot make changes to the Hypogeal Nexus without approval. Where is Seral Druid Waelea?"

"I relieved them of their role here. Waelea was, what's the word..." Sparrow stopped for a moment and thought. "Inept? Yes. Definitely, incompetent."

She emerged from the wall and waved a hand at the tree. Moss began to grow around the base of the trunk before branching in a dendritic pattern from four spots. It crawled and fractal until the branches weaved together at eye level. White fibres began to poke from the growth, transforming the surface with a thick mycelial mat. And in a final transformation, the tendrils started to glow a bright green.

"There," Sparrow said and clapped her hands. "No more punching holes in the wall and waiting all day. I directed the nutrient flows through a single hub. A nexus in the Nexus, you might say. And best yet, I introduced the bioluminescent network to the bark to notify us of any immediate change. Green, we're good. Red, we're all dead."

Haledon was speechless. He stood, mouth agape, with his eyes taking in every inch of the tree's bark. Beyond impressed, he was in awe at the craftsmanship that had occurred in one evening.

"Primeval Druid Sparrow, I'm—" Haledon searched for the word. "This is...wow." He laughed excitedly.

"This took me, literally, an evening. You have an exceptionally low branch for amazement."

"You grew that—overnight! It is amazing."

"Anyone can grow anything, Haledon."

"Not like that, never on this ship." He placed a hand again on the tree and ran it down the fresh bark. "Sure, little changes on our suits, but ship changes take decades for small things. This..." Haledon rubbed at the moss and turned to Sparrow. "Would have taken my whole lifecycle."

She stared at him, her eyes flicking up and down, examining his face and suit. Taking a deep breath and releasing it with a huff, she rubbed at her eyes and looked towards Witch-Hazel. The two exchanged a curious look in silence, and then the bramble knight walked out into the hallway.

Haledon, oblivious to the scene, had returned to staring in awe at the tree. He placed his hand to the bark and could feel the odd thrumming in his chest. The pulsing resonated into the base of his skull, and his world began to fade. It felt like he could see the nutrients flowing through the ship, soaking into pods and leaching back into the lines.

"Haledon," He heard a whisper and felt himself sinking deeper into the ship.

"Haledon." It spoke again as he splashed into a pool. Raising his head, he emerged at the center of the Watering Hole. A figure stood on the second tier of the terrace and stared at the stars. It was tall, armoured in greens and browns, with skin as white as bone.

"Haledon." A hand yanked Haledon from behind.

He was back in the Nexus. Looking around, he noticed the hand he pressed against the tree was gone. A thick mat of vines and roots had fused him at the wrist to the bark.

"There you are," Sparrow rounded the tree. "I said your name three times—what are you doing?"

"I—" Haledon looked at the tree and back at Sparrow. "I touched the tree..."

"Yes, that's obvious." Sparrow chirped back as she raised her hand out towards Haledon. The knotted foliage released him and revealed his unblemished fingers.

"But, I—" He looked to his hand and then back at the tree. "It was so real. I was swimming through the nutrient lines, and I was in the Watering Hole. There was a person..."

"Fantastic, Haledon. We will have time for your spiritual journey when we get back."

"Back?"

"We are going to another Astra."

"Another Astra?" He repeated in shock

"Is there an echo in here? Yes. Now, follow me." Sparrow turned and walked out of the Nexus.