Chapter 14

Gazeas stepped to the side and placed her hand on the nearest tree. Haledon watched as she ran her fingers slowly down the bark and looked to him with wide eyes.

"Where…are we?" She questioned.

But all he could do was shrug his shoulders in response. Crouching down, Haledon dug his hands into the forest floor's rich humus. He pulled it to his face and stared at the soil crumbling between his fingers.

"I have no idea," He finally spoke as he stood. "I really don't know anything about Sparrow's workshop."

"We're not technically in my workshop. I mean, our bodies are—hmm," Sparrow injected before pausing and pondering her response. "You are technically in the Hypogeal Nexus, consciously maintaining a bramble clone in my workshop. That clone is now under the mind-altering effects of the Shaman Tree. This places your mind in France, on Earth, some ten thousand years after the first Druids founded their settlement at the edge of the Baltic sea."

"So...wait—" Gazeas started, but was silenced by Sparrow’s waving hand.

"Enough talking. Come. Come!" She beckoned the two towards the thinning forest.

Haledon began to move forward without question, stepping along the path that Sparrow had cleared. Branches cracked under his feet, sending echoing snaps throughout the surrounding woods.

"Softly," Sparrow stressed and looked over her shoulder. "Watch your steps. Someone could be out here."

"What does that matter? We're not really here...right?" Haledon asked as he carefully placed his foot down. But Sparrow ignored his question as she walked away from him, leaving a silence that was quickly filled by the calls of birds.

Haledon glanced around the forest with a deep breath before shifting his gaze to Gazeas.

"It's like a nutrient line leaked." He joked, motioning to the overgrowth and excited chirps.

Gazeas returned a slight chuckle as she stared up at the trees and the blue sky peeking through the canopy. Haledon followed, looking up and staring at the swaying foliage that towered high above. But his stupor was interrupted when a heavy object collided with the side of his head.

Haledon winced against the pain before grabbing his face and turning towards the direction he had been hit. Sparrow stood with a nonplussed glare as her hand gripped another stone.

"Are you done? We're going to miss it."

"Gazeas." Haledon tugged the Druid out of her trance and pulled her towards Sparrow.

"Sorry, I just—did you ever imagine something could grow so tall?"

"Well, I assumed from what I learned—but I never thought I would see one. Now, come on. Sparrow is getting irritable."

The two caught up to the Druid as she knelt behind a dense bramble. Motioning them to get in line behind her, Sparrow looked back to the clearing.

"This thicket was the last of the trees left by the Romans after their fortifications around Alesia were completed, look," Sparrow pointed towards the clearing.

Haledon stuck his head over, unaware of what he was looking for. What he saw twisted his gut. The forest had been razed, transforming it into a muddy field. Tree stumps stood as grave markers to once monumental towers. Large piles of burnt branches and leaves still smouldered in the distance, the ground around them scorched and cracked from the heat.

Beyond the destruction, trails of black smoke drifted to the sky from behind chopped wooden barriers. Splintered spikes jutted from the wall and soil, concealing a blur of movement behind.

"What have they done?" Haledon remarked in horror. "Sparrow, why did they cut down all the trees?"

"Romans didn't believe in the bounty of Nature like Druids. They felled forests to erect cities and laid roads to better oppress the land and its people."

"But why?"

"Decadence?" She replied quickly. "Xenophobia? It is hard to say. Accounts from that time were scattered at best."

"Xeno—" Haledon struggled.

"It means fear or hatred of that which is different. The Romans feared the Celts because of their reverence for Druidic practices. The Druid's ability to wield Nature's chaos into something beneficial was a threat to the order of Roman rule. Their people blindly believed that the Empire provided them security. But if Nature offered that same safety, who would need Roman protection? Who would pay the Romans their worthless metal coins? And what would happen if Empire slaves learned to use Nature against their masters?"

Sparrow paused and looked out over the camp. Her eyes raced along the fence and eventually to the towers that looked both in and out. With a deep breath, she continued.

"The Romans were led at this point by a bigot known as Caesar. He believed that all Druids were bloodthirsty pagans aiming to end the Roman way of life and culture. In actuality, the Druids wanted nothing more than to be left to live in symbiosis with Nature. They acknowledged Roman rule and even accepted their destructive culture, but held complete disinterest in becoming Romans themselves. Only when Caesar forced this savage and dangerous lifestyle on the Gauls was it time for the Druids to fight back. This led us to here, the Siege of Alesia, where the last of the Gallic Celts were on the precipice of defeat."

Sparrow pointed beyond the Roman barricade to a hastily grown bramble barrier. It rested atop a formidable hill that looked like the back of a whale arching above rolling waves. Beyond the wall, Haledon could make out the thatch roofs of multiple huts and, at the center of the fortress, a single large beech tree towering over the town.

"This is where we are going. Quickly now," Sparrow hurried towards a nearby formation of rocks and shrubbery. With a flick of her wrist, the bushes parted and revealed a small entrance. "Haledon, you first."

Looking at Sparrow anxiously, he took a nervous gulp and lowered himself into a crawling position. He dragged his way through the stone mouth, eventually descending into a narrow tunnel.

"What is this place?" Haledon wondered out loud as he stared into the darkness. Adjusting himself, he stood and hit his head on the ceiling. “Ahg!”

"It's dark in here," Gazeas remarked, pulling herself through the opening. By command, flowers began to blossom around her collarbone, radiating a soft teal glow. "Oh…well," She continued with a curious look down at herself as she stood.

"Well, that's interesting." Sparrow chirped at Gazeas as she flowed through the adjacent wall.

With a flourish, Sparrow reached out her hand. Vines began budding along her wrist before blooming with a pale pink glow.

"Wrist florets are much more efficient. Keep up, it's almost time."

The Druid turned and hurried down the path with her outstretched hand, her glow steadily disappearing down the earthen tunnel. Haledon raced to keep up, occasionally being hit with low-hanging roots or drops of water, as he looked back to ensure Gazeas was following.

"That's really impressive. I can't grow flower lights." He laughed and motioned to his body.

"Thank you. Though…I'd prefer more subtlety."

The foliage began to shift and shimmer as the flowers soaked into the armour. Buds began to sprout along Gazeas's forearm, giving off the same radiant glow. She raised it high, catching Haledon in the face and making him shield his eyes.

"Hey—" He winced.

"Sorry," She replied. "Not used to this new foliage."

The group continued walking in silence for a long while before reaching the end of the excavated route. There, Sparrow directed the two in front of her and towards a thin sliver of light above.

"Observe now. I will tell you when to interact." She ordered sternly.

Haledon followed her command and stepped up. The sun's glare faded into the colours of reality, painting the picture of a tall man standing encircled by a crowd.

"What's going on?" Gazeas asked.

"Shh," Sparrow interrupted. "Observe."

"I, Vercingetorix, son of Celtillus the Arvernian, pledge this oath to the land and its people." The central figure spoke and stepped forward. He stood with his broad chest out, layered in loose hide and his thick braids.

Standing before him was a tall woman wearing leathers painted in the reds and oranges of natural dyes. Resting atop her head was a crown of antlers similar to Sparrow’s, though lacking the mossy mat. She stood with her arms rigid and raised towards the canopy above the man.

"That I may be reborn again, in the image of Nature, to purge the fire and metal of the Roman forges from our land. I vow no rest until the day Rome burns, and Nature is freed of its destructive grasp." Vercingetorix knelt to the ground and reached his hands towards the canopy. "I honour the First Druid, they who brought us from the darkness of the forest into the light of the meadow. In their presence, I ask that they accept me back into Nature’s delicate balance."

The man leaned back into the tree as the woman reached into her leathers and withdrew a handful of ash. She began to chant loudly, throwing the pale dust against his chest. Vercingetorix adjusted himself against the bark and crossed his hands over his heart.

The woman then withdrew a jug from her hip with dancing fingers and swiftly poured a thick, dark red liquid over his head. It spilled down his body and painted the trunk of the tree.

Her hands continued to draw similar patterns to what Haledon had been taught by Sparrow. Signs that he felt himself instinctively mimicking them with his own hands.

"For land, tribe, and freedom." The man said solemnly, resting his head back against the trunk.

The aerial roots at the beech base began to wriggle and reach, first wrapping over Vercingetorix's legs. They bound him tightly, squeezing against his flesh before continuing their constrictive journey up his body.

Haledon could feel his heart racing, watching as the man wriggled against the grip. He grunted through the pain, his face wincing as it continued to crush against him. Eventually, the roots had covered his body, leaving nothing but the muffled grunts of Vercingetorix.

The world became quiet as the community held its breath. Haledon, only able to hear the panicked gasps of Gazeas beside him, jumped when an audible snap cut through the air as though a thick branch had broken. He watched in horror as a thick red sap poured from between the beech roots, soaking the base of the tree.

"What the forswyn?!" Gazeas screamed and looked at Sparrow. "What are we watching? This...this is not in the way of Nature!"

Pulling herself up, she scurried through the hole.

"Haledon, stop her!" Sparrow barked at the Druid.

Whether in shock from what he had witnessed or Gazeas' sudden flight through the window of the cave, Haledon froze. He stood mesmerized by the sap dripping along the surface of the roots, saturating the spongy soil.

By the time he realized what was happening, Gazeas had nearly pulled herself through the opening. In a panic, Haledon reached for her only to have his fingers slip through her foliage.

Just escaping his grasp, Gazeas pulled herself up and began running towards the crowd.

"Ugh," Sparrow sighed, placing her face into her palm. "Go...go get her."

Haledon obeyed, pulling himself up and through the hole. Hoisting his body into the narrow opening, his bulky SOIL snagged a root and resisted his strength. Half out of the cave, he looked at Gazeas and then back down at Sparrow's judgmental stare.

"Let me help him! Let me help him!" Gazeas screamed, running towards the tree.

Haledon looked up in time to watch several men and women surround the significantly smaller Gazeas. They grabbed at her arms and held her in place.

"Stop! I can save him!" She yelled again.

The woman with the antler crown approached Gazeas. She scrutinized her, examining the Druid up and down before reaching out of view and withdrawing a long dagger. With a swift thrust, she buried the blade into Gazeas’s core, and her body went limp.

"No!" Haledon screamed as he struggled against the root. "Gazeas!"

The group turned towards him and tossed Gazeas to the ground. Drawing swords and axes, they began to approach but halted at the splitting sound of wood.

Haledon looked through the Celts towards the tree. He watched as the trunk of the beech cracked and exploded out with a splintery blast. A barken hand reached from the heartwood and began to pull a humanoid figure into the world.

The people of the village collectively spun and, in near unison, fell to their knees. The smooth beech exterior of an Arboreal Juggernaut emerged from the splintered crevasse and stepped forward. He lowered himself to look into the eyes of the woman who had overseen the transformation. The excited, bramble-faced Vercingetorix grew over the smooth head.

With the croak of agitated tree bark echoing through the crowd, the juggernaut adjusted his gaze. Looking in Haledon’s direction, he moved forward and over the body of Gazeas. Lumbering steps marched towards the trapped Druid as he struggled to free himself.

"No—no—no—no!" He raised his hand as the hulking foot stepped down over him.

Haledon sat up straight, ripping the flower from his face and breathing in deeply. He gagged against the air and heaved to no relief.

Beside him, Gazeas wretched to the floor between panicked gasps.

"Hey," Haledon coughed. "Gazeas, you okay?"

She heaved again before placing a hand to her neck and rolling to the side. Vines crawled across her suit, and her body relaxed. Gazeas nodded softly as she grabbed at her knees. Closing her eyes, she slowly calmed her breathing.

"Observe—and then interact!" Sparrow yelled as she approached. "Never, in all my years, have I had someone fail on observing something."

"Sparrow, what was that?" Haledon asked as he placed a hand on Gazeas' arm.

"It was supposed to be an educational moment about the first Arboreal Juggernaut grafted from a non-Druid and Nature. A moment that marked the beginning of The Druidic Reformation."

"It was gruesome," Gazeas spoke softly. "How could they do such horrific things? That was not Nature."

"Nature is brutal, Gazeas." Sparrow approached and knelt beside her. She leaned in and lifted her chin to analyze her eyes. "Before the Great Greening and the Fertile Age of Earth, many tribes warred and could be just as vicious. On Earth, to this day, there are still predators that will hunt to survive. This is not gruesome. This is Nature. The Mecharrion will lure you out with much worse, so you must learn to listen to me and restrain those good intentions. You do none of us any good if you're dead."

"Do we have to go back in?" Haledon asked.

"Not today," Sparrow leaned back, releasing Gazeas’ chin, and reaching up. A bumblebee buzzed over, dropping two seeds. "We're attending the Funeral Celebration on your Astra."

"Funeral Celebration?" Haledon asked. "What's—"

"Exactly what it sounds like." Sparrow interrupted as she placed a seed in the hands of Gazeas first and then Haledon.

"What are these?"

"Genetic modifications for your suits. When your consciousness returns to the Hypogeal Nexus, the information in that seed will transfer to your SOIL and begin the transition."

"Transition?" Gazeas asked.

"Consciousness?" Haledon asked.

"Yes..." Sparrow pressed her palms to both their heads.

Haledon opened his eyes in the Hypogeal Nexus and quickly glanced at the meditative bodies around him. He looked down and watched as the bright purple florets of the leafy sphere began to close.

"Wha—gah!" Gazeas huffed as she shook her head. "Is she always so...prickly?"

"Yes," Sparrow spoke from behind the two, plucking their spheres and beginning to lift them. "Now, return to your rooms and deSOIL. You should now be able to remove the bark plate and reaffix it."

"Why?" Haledon inquired as he looked down at the foliage.

Sparrow glared at him.

"Finalizes the transition. Now, get out," Sparrow ordered and started to push the two from the room. Shoving them through the grass screen, she poked her head out. "Return here when you're done."

Sparrow slipped her head back through the veil, leaving the two alone in the quiet corridor.