Chapter 15

Haledon eyed Gazeas curiously as the events of the Shaman Tree still raced through his mind.

"She was acting strange," Gazeas remarked as she plucked at her foliage.

"Yeah, Sparrow likes to be exactly that..." Haledon replied.

His attention drifted away from the conversation to the odd stillness that lingered in the air. The faint and eerie echoing of music in the distance caught his ear between breaths before fading away.

"Meet you back here?" He said as his mind returned to Gazeas.

"I actually was going to ask if I could deSOIL in your den? It's closer."

"Sure," He waved her along as they turned to walk. "Sooner we get changed, the sooner we get back to the, uh—" Haledon looked around to make sure no one was listening. "Bitter Root."

Gazeas exhaled a small chuckle before retreating into herself. She looked down at her stomach and remained quiet as she walked at his side. Haledon watched as she uncomfortably rubbed at her gut, a feeling he could relate to as he touched where he had been assaulted. Respecting her silence, Haledon walked in a shared contemplation.

His mind began to race and, in an attempt to distract himself from his recollection of the pale bramble and shadow wolf, he examined the corridors. His silent observation began to reveal a lack of people who typically filled the halls. Aside from Earth Druids posted at the ship's nodes, Haledon saw only the occasional Astralaceae Druid entering or exiting their dwelling sections.

Reaching his den, Haledon invited Gazeas in and followed her through the veil.

"I don't know..." She muttered to herself as she entered the room. "I don't know how you can do what Primeval Druid Sparrow asks of you."

"What?" He replied as he stepped farther into the room.

Gazeas approached the foot of the bed and looked around the space. She placed a hand against the bark frame where Haledon slept and dragged her fingers across its edge before approaching the window.

"Your ecosystem has remained unchanging for as long as I've known you, Seral Druid Haledon," She spoke calmly. "I find it hard to believe that after two days, you...you no longer maintain your skepticism of Primeval Druid Sparrow’s practices."

"Well, I..." Haledon paused and tried to think. "I do feel—well, pushed. Sparrow is forcing our evolution, but the Mecharrion...we don't have a choice."

"We always have a choice—"

"Not when it comes to the Mecharrion."

Gazeas turned from the window and faced Haledon.

"The Mecharrion—the metal creatures that stalk in the dark. That pounced on our world the day after the Earth Druids revealed themselves."

"What are you saying?" Haledon asked.

She approached slowly and placed a hand on Haledon's cheek.

"Not to lose yourself to Primeval Druid Sparrow. The Seral Druid Haledon I remember understood designing from pattern to detail—” She paused for a moment and looked into his eyes compassionately. “A moth is drawn to the flame because it believes it to be the moon. Don't let her bright light blind your vision."

Haledon’s mind began to wander again. He felt his stare loosen as Gazeas' hand withdrew from his face. She approached the window once more, her foliage beginning to melt away.

"I don't understand..." Haledon muttered. "You once told me to learn from her. And now…"

He watched her as the protective canopy revealed the tops of her bare shoulders. She raised her palm, placing it against the window as the leaves and vines melted away from her arms. With a free hand, she pulled the bark breastplate from her chest. Haledon turned around as the leaves gave way down her spine and revealed the small of her back.

He followed her lead and reached for his SOIL. Detaching it, the vines that gripped his muscles became slack, and the foliage began to rain from his body. Examining the bark plate, he noticed silvery tentacles, more delicate than strands of hair, wriggling and withdrawing into the wood.

"Primeval Druid Farran believed in you—” Gazeas replied, her naked body coming into view. “Because you knew when to learn and when to stand up to him. But, you seem to let Primeval Druid Sparrow tell you what to think."

Haledon adjusted his gaze to look at her, observing Gazeas’ body as she reaffixed her SOIL. In an instant, the foliage reclaimed her pale frame. The plants crawled over her bare skin, shielding it in woven vines and a glossy leaf mat. On the breastplate, the small nodule Spark had given her still pulsed slowly.

Attaching his SOIL, Haledon felt the noticeable itching sensation creep again under his skin. But as the suit grew over his body, it warmed him to the core, and before long, his urge to scratch disappeared.

"I hear you." He replied softly as he watched the ends of his limbs disappear beneath the foliage. "It's just hard to learn from Sparrow and not become consumed by her energy."

"We can catch and store that energy together." Gazeas smiled. "Us Astralaceaes Druids need to remain beneficial and dynamic accumulators, even in an Earth Druid ecosystem."

Haledon laughed as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I admire your friendship, Gazeas."

"And yours—Haledon." She replied with a laugh of her own. "I don't see any difference in the SOIL."

"Yeah, me either." He checked her suit up and down. "It looks about the same. Maybe it's something for this celebration?"

"I have no idea, I'm sure Prime—Sparrow…will tell us."

Haledon laughed as he made his way out of the room.

"Now who's giving Sparrow a branch to perch? You ready?" He asked, stopping at the threshold.

"Yes—and I mean, she has to tell us some things, right?"

"From what I've gathered, no...no she doesn't."

Haledon passed through the veil and emerged into the corridor as various Astralaceaes Druids sauntered through the empty space.

A pair of staggering bodies bumped against nearby walls and giggled as they leaned in on each other. They stumbled away from the distant music, still humming gleefully to themselves, drunk on companionship and, what Haledon could only assume, the Astralaceae’s sap.

Simultaneously, mourning Druids solemnly walked their way down the hall, heading in the direction of the celebration. They gave the drunken Druids a wide berth as they sniffled to themselves.

"It's a range of emotions," Gazeas remarked as she emerged behind him. "What's wrong with the staggering ones?"

"Fermentation in the nutrient lines created an alcoholic substance."

"Is that normal?"

"Apparently—But I've never heard of it."

The two began their walk back to the Hypogeal Nexus with a slight laugh, filling the remaining time with light conversation. As they approached, Haledon spotted Sparrow and Spark stepping into the corridor. The previously concealed body of Mek-Tek scurried up Spark's shoulder and positioned himself close to Sparrow. Haledon observed as the two leaned in and conversed quietly.

Witch-Hazel emerged through the wall beside the trio. They cracked the knotted knuckles that had formed over the once-woven fingers with a stretch of their long limbs.

"Ah, just in time," Sparrow remarked as she looked to Haledon and Gazeas.

Sparrow snapped her fingers, and Haledon watched as vines excitedly travelled up everyone’s body. He looked down at his chest and observed the spindly limbs racing from his SOIL to his shoulders.

Adjusting his eyes again, he glanced at Gazeas. He watched as her vines transformed into a dense laurel wreath, blooming with vibrant flowers. The bouquet varied from yellow sunflowers and white daisies to purple echinacea and blue chicory.

"What's this?" Mek-Tek squeaked as his hands excitedly felt around his smaller bouquet crown.

"You five are a guild and, as such, require a niche-appropriate signifier. I found the Asteraceae Family to be entirely symbolic." She chuckled to herself.

"Astralaceae?" Haledon asked.

"Precisely! All of my Astral-series designs are inspired by the Asteraceae Family."

Haledon fiddled with his wreath, plucking at the large sunflower that had emerged on the back of his head. He continued to feel around, suddenly withdrawing his hand with a sudden prick of pain.

"Ow." He remarked, pulling his finger to his lips.

"Thistle. Not all Asteraceae are defenceless." Sparrow giggled to herself, having been watching Haledon and Gazeas investigating their crowns. She turned to the group. "Now, let us go. I have a speech to give, and you five have a task to complete."

Sparrow turned and began to walk away. But, unlike her typical pace, she casually strolled down the hall with her arms clasped behind her back.

Haledon was the first to catch up to her, leaving the rest of the group to follow.

"Task?"

"Yes, quite a simple task, really." She replied and looked back to make sure the guild was close enough to hear. "You must begin by observing and interacting with the people at the celebration—you know, that thing you’re quite good at.”

Haledon dropped his gaze as she snipped at him. His mind wandered back to the conversation with Gazeas, and, with a deep breath, he raised his head again to continue listening.

“Enjoy some drink and food, commiserate with your community, be present in that moment.” She continued. “Then, when my speech begins, I want you all to slip away. Return to the Hilum and collect the fly within the core of the arachnid. It should be composting by now."

"A fly in what? Why do we have to do it secretly during your speech?" Gazeas questioned from over Haledon's shoulder.

"Phonetic Harmonics and Language Interception—P-H-L-I—or fly. And we all have reasons for doing things. I will tell you what is on it after you complete the task, Gazeas. Any more questions?"

"What type of natural defences should we expect?" Mek-Tek asked, taking a puff from his sphere.

"None," Sparrow quickly replied. "Astra internal defences won't be inherited until the third nutrient transfusion. At most, you’ll run into a pair of Sequoia Squad."

"Yeah, that's no problem." Witch-Hazel smiled.

As the group neared the rear of the Astralaceae, the melodic symphonies of Druids plucking at instruments became more apparent. But even the tunes began to blend into the cacophony of conversation that grew around them.

Sparrow stopped the group at a busy node and looked around.

"This will do nicely," She mumbled to herself and pointed through a herd of drunken Druids. "These watering holes and glades are where we will be addressing the Druids. Go, integrate, we will meet after at the Hypogeal Nexus."

Sparrow spun towards the rear of the Astralaceae and quickly disappeared through the crowd.

"Sparrow?" Haledon spun, but she had already vanished. Grabbing at his neck, like he had seen Sparrow do multiple times, he concentrated and whispered. "Sparrow, how do we integrate?"

As he did, a thick wooden hand landed on his shoulder, forcing the grip to slip from his neck. He turned to face a grinning Witch-Hazel.

"You don't need to ask Sparrow that—I'll show you." Witch-Hazel stepped down a side passage, beckoning the group to follow.

Reaching a hand into the wall, they withdrew a thin nutrient line that began to spill fluid to the floor. Haledon felt himself instinctively want to lurch forward to stop them, but held himself back.

Witch-Hazel extended their free hand, and a familiar goblet grew into place. Filling it up, they took a long swig. Haledon watched as the alcohol poured over their face and dripped between the foliage before absorbing into the porous woody frame.

"Oh yeah, you Druids want some too." They laughed awkwardly, lowering their goblet. With a flick of the wrist, a variety of cups began to form along the wall.

Filling each container, Witch-Hazel handed over the stein first to Haledon, followed by a wide-bottomed bramble snifter to Spark. Witch-Hazel faced the wall once more as they fiddled with the foliage. Turning back, they revealed the twisted bark of an inverted cone bowl for Gazeas. And finally, leaning down to the ground, Witch-Hazel extended a woven leaf shooter big enough for Mek-Tek.

"There we go, those should all be size appropriate without getting you too—"

"More," Spark demanded, holding out her empty stemware. "Please."

"How did...you—okay—I like you," Witch-Hazel smirked and drained sap into her mug. "To our Guild, to the fallen Druids, and to the balance of Nature."

Haledon and Gazeas watched as the group raised their drinks to the air. Witch-Hazel looked over at the two and motioned to them to lift their various mugs.

"It's a toast," They explained. "It's an Earth thing."

The two looked at each other and raised their arms. The other three cheered, slamming the drinks together and sending a splash of the liquid out. Tipping back their assorted mugs, the Earth Druids emptied them with ease. Meanwhile, as the Astralaceaes Druids followed, they struggled to guzzle the thick drink.

"Oh, my—" Gazeas gasped after gulping half of the viscous liquid. "That is—" She seized up with a hiss before her body calmed. "That is something."

"Yeah, it's good," Witch-Hazel refilled their large goblet and began to distribute it into each of the Druids' empty cups.

"No more for me," Mek-Tek handed over his leafy shooter. "Messes with my guts."

Witch-Hazel stretched out their hand with a smile. The foliage of the cup blended back into their body.

"I get it—I've had those problems before in a past life." Turning to look at the group as a whole, the wicker head nodded and directed the party over to a nearby open archway. "Time for some fun and games?"

"What?" Gazeas asked.

"They're basin racin'!"

"What?" Haledon asked the second time.

Spark snickered from the edge of the group. Haledon turned to look at her, but she quickly stopped and looked away with a playful smirk.

"Here, look," Witch-Hazel pulled Haledon and Gazeas over.

Beyond the threshold, Haledon examined the large space that was the glade. Soft, green grass grew out of the floor and up the circular curve of the walls. At a certain point, the illusion of rolling, grassy hills gave way to a powder-blue sedge and rush varieties that made up the sky's facade. At the far end of the room, a bright point of yellow-white bioluminescent light hung low on the ceiling, representing the Astralaceae day shift coming to an end.

Haledon stared at the group of people huddling over the heavily rooted table at the center of the room. Five Druids stood on either side of the long slab, where wooden spigots on either end waterfalled a thick sap into a large trough. The Druids took turns, first plunging their mugs into the liquid and then downing the thick drink.

"Teams of five stand at either end of the Horizon around a Basin and a Spring. The Spring fills the Basin with alcohol to a start line, at which point each participant must take turns finishing a stein of sap. When one player finishes, the next on the team dips and drinks. The first team to drain their Basin to the finish line has successfully outdrunk their companions."

"And why do people do this?" Haledon asked.

"To have a good time—but mainly to get drunk really fast." Spark injected before walking towards the table, waving a hand. "Our guild is next."

The patrons looked around and cheered to see the new faces. The current drinkers, having finished their respective races, stepped to the side and allowed Spark through.

"Oh, look at that, we're up." Witch-Hazel chuckled, their face growing into a broad smile as they approached the table's cleared half.

"Teams of five, Spark." A gruff-looking Earth Druid on the other side of the table spoke, his thick beard slowly dripping large globs of sap down his foliage. "Where're your others?"

"I count as two." Witch-Hazel laughed. "If you'd allow it."

The Druid looked to the Arboreal Juggernaut before looking to Spark.

"Aye, and the other two?"

"These two little Astra Druids." Spark continued, pulling Haledon and Gazeas forward to the table.

The Earth Druid laughed and motioned to the large bowls.

"Alright, set up." He said as the Springs began to spew sap into the Basins.

Witch-Hazel quickly rushed around and handed out steins.

"I'll be the Roots and the Leaves. Spark, I need you in Trunk. Haledon and Gazeas, Branches, and Twigs."

"I don't know what that means." Haledon panicked, looking at the new, much bigger stein in his hand.

Witch-Hazel grabbed the two Druids and gently adjusted their position. "It means I drink the two bigger steins at the beginning and end. Spark drinks the medium one in the middle, and you two have the smaller ones after us. It also means you stand here and you…here."

Haledon stood anxiously between Witch-Hazel and Spark, watching the liquid fill the sizeable wooden bowl. He stared down at Gazeas, who stood on the opposite end of Spark.

"Wow, that's filling fast," Gazeas remarked as she looked from the two cups in her hands to the table.

"Oh, yes, I almost forgot. It can't overflow the Basin, or we forfeit. As soon as I finish, dip and drin—" Witch-Hazel cut off as they plunged their stein into the liquid and thrust it up to their face to start the race.