Chapter 21

Haledon froze as he stared at the towering figure standing isolated from the world around him. Up close, the teal flowers that concealed Mesa's chest revealed a lower layer of thick bark armour marked with ridges and scouring holes against its wadi walls. Inky tattoos of thorny vines crawled up his leafy neck and emerged beyond the foliage.

"I, uhh—" Haledon panicked and looked to Gazeas. "I was saying..."

"Haledon was mentioning the coolness of the water." Spark interrupted. She stepped forward and presented a Sequoia Squad salute to Mesa. "Good day, Primeval Druid Mesa."

Mesa smirked at Spark, giving her an acknowledging nod and directed his attention back to Haledon.

"Now, why would water temperature be something to be bothered with?"

Haledon thought momentarily as he looked into Mesa's eyes as Sparrow would. But instead of finding timidness, he was met with a hardened stare. He immediately returned to his comfort zone and took a calming breath.

"Well," Haledon followed up after a brief pause. "If the water temperature is too cold, it could be a sign that the bramble insulation layer may be withering. We are growing this Astra quite fast. All it would take is a single inadequately diversified biome, and our ecosystem would shift from temperate forest to boreal in minutes."

"Hmmph," Mesa remarked. "Sounds quite severe indeed and something that should be carefully monitored by only the most qualified among us."

Mesa nodded his head towards Haledon. His lips curled, revealing a slight smile that wilted back into the weathered face.

"Yes, we should be on our way." Haledon turned to look at the guild.

In the distance, Witch-Hazel leaned against the wall of the lowest terrace. With arms crossed disapprovingly, they cautiously eyed the situation but never approached close enough to become involved. Closer to Haledon, Gazeas inspected the Earth Druid with an innocent curiosity.

Haledon saw her staring at a small mass that pulsed behind Mesa's ear. The walnut-shaped object swelled and deflated slightly with a constant, rhythmic pulse. Haledon found it odd that the pulse's speed synced with what he knew to be the Megacolides nutrient flow.

"Great chatting," Spark said quickly, gripping Haledon's shoulder. "But we should—"

"Spark," Mesa's voice subtly commanded. "I was hoping to have a word with you."

"With me? Umm, yeah, I can do that."

Spark’s grip squeezed and released from Haledon, causing him to look at her and Gazeas.

"Spark?" Gazeas asked as she looked between her and Mesa.

"I'll catch up in no time!" She said with her usual smile.

Haledon inspected the reply, knowing a Spark smile could hide a hundred words. He felt the knot forming at the spot where the wolf stabbed him in his dreams.

"May I walk with you?" Haledon asked without thinking. His face immediately flushed, having realized what words slipped between his lips.

"Haledon?" Gazeas questioned nervously.

"I have a few questions about Earth—about the desert," He continued, looking to Mesa. "If you wouldn't mind indulging me."

Mesa's face softened as he flashed a smile. "Of course."

"Tell Sparrow that I will be there shortly." Haledon turned to look back at Gazeas. She shot him a worried look, to which he replied with a subtle wink.

"Okay..." She muttered anxiously, looking between Spark and Haledon. "I will see you both soon?"

"Yes." He responded.

Spark nodded quietly but turned her attention back to Mesa. Haledon observed her momentarily, though his gaze wandered back to Gazeas as she approached Witch-Hazel. The two exchanged quick words before turning to leave the watering hole.

"Shall we walk and talk?" Mesa asked, gathering Haledon’s attention.

"Umm, sure?" Haledon replied and motioned for Mesa to lead.

"So, Seral Druid Haledon, what are your questions?"

"Oh—well, you can speak with Spark first."

Mesa held his hand up. "No, no. We have plenty of time, and I'm more than eager to answer your questions. You'd be surprised how few Astra Druids ask about Earth, which I would have thought would be quite the topic of discussion…being the homeworld and all."

"Take no offence," Haledon replied. "To us, this is and always has been our homeworld. Earth is but another name for the soil beneath our feet. Most generations never even have the opportunity to see a world in passing."

"You are quite lucky then," Mesa replied. "To have seen a seeding and meet Druids from Earth."

"It’s like a dream," Haledon spoke through his teeth as he rubbed at his stomach. He felt the urge to probe Mesa with questions about why he predated on Sparrow, but knew he would need to do so subtly. "Tell me about the desert and how a place can be devoid of life and alive?"

Mesa chuckled under his breath and reached into his SOIL. Kneeling to the ground as the three stepped out of the watering hole, the Druid created a pile of thick, granular pollen on the root floor. Spreading it into a disk, he began drawing the same Druidic ritual symbols Sparrow had been slowly teaching Haledon over the last few months.

With a final hushed muttering of words, Mesa snapped his fingers, and the organic sand came alive. A cactus began to grow, its thick pads quickly pushing needles out. Haledon approached and cautiously tapped his finger on one of the sharpened spikes. There was a dull scraping sound as it scratched against the bark gloves that had regrown over his hands.

"Life in the desert is harsh." Mesa lectured. "With relentless heat or chill and lack of water, the deserts of Earth are some of the most challenging places to live—but Nature is strong and determined. The cactus grows in these climates, holding precious water deep within its mucilage and protecting itself with natural defences. Many plants have to live this way because, often, in dire situations, you need to fight to survive."

"And you were born in this desert?" Haledon asked, even though he knew the answer from Sparrow.

"In my first season, this was where I was born. Though when I was of the age to begin training as a Pioneer, I explored many Earth deserts."

"There's more than one desert on Earth? How is it sustainable to have so many inhospitable areas?"

Mesa laughed as he stood. With a wave of his hand, the cactus began to bloom purple and yellow flowers. But the succulents decomposed back into the ship as quickly as they appeared, taking the sand-like pollen with them.

"Deserts play an important role in a planet's biosphere. Take the Saharan Desert. As the winds pick up across the sandy stretch of land, they carry long-forgotten nutritious sediments into the air. Now, some fall onto the ocean beyond the shoreline, feeding the aquatic systems. But the finest silty deposits make their way to the Amazonian Rainforest on the other side of the great sea. And with the aid of that forest's rain-inducing trees, these nutrients trickle down and feed the hungry plants."

Mesa looked at Haledon with a straight face.

"Deserts may be harsh, but they give as much life as they take."

Haledon nodded as Mesa continued to lecture. And as the Druid’s speech ended, Haledon thought about all the information he had been delivering. He processed every word about the deserts and their functions as he walked in silence, giving Spark her time to chat with the Mesa.

"But, if nutrients leave a system,” Haledon finally broke his silence and asked. “And aren't brought back in—with such little organics, it must be hard to grow anything in a desert."

Mesa released another hearty laugh. "Maybe for a do-nothing Druid, but arid climate Druids are robust and resilient." Beckoning Haledon forward, Mesa stepped through an overgrown corridor.

"Do-nothing, Druid?" Haledon asked as he followed through the low-hanging vines. Looking back, he noticed Spark keeping close, her eyes glazed over in a thousand-pace stare. He wondered what conversation he had missed.

"I would have assumed you would have learned about do-nothing Druids," Mesa said dully. And thanks to Sparrow's training, Haledon understood this reaction as Earth Druid sarcasm. "It may surprise you, Seral, that some Druids would choose to do nothing against the Mecharrion."

"Nothing?"

"Indeed. These Druids would rather toil on the forest floor like every other beast, waiting for a predator to steal them away at night."

"I don't think I can believe that." Haledon protested and looked back at Spark. "Spark—?"

Snapping out of her stare, she looked at Haledon.

"It's true. Earth has all types." She said quickly.

"Okay," Haledon turned back to Mesa. "So, you’re telling me there are Druids that are okay with the Mecharrion disrupting the balance of Nature, with killing them and everything?"

"Yes. Druids who have lived a life of peace and prosperity at the expense of other Druids' sacrifices." Mesa lectured. "They were born into temperate forests with verdant gardens bursting with food and gushing with water. They never ventured to the extreme deserts or tundras to experience the harshness of their world. To them, Nature is and will always be only one biome."

Mesa paused for a moment before continuing. "It’s that lack of evolution and adaptation to the harshness of Nature that has weakened them to the Mecharrion threat."

"I find that...okay, wait—" Haledon felt his mind racing with ideas. "That doesn't make sense. Just because they never experienced danger isn't a reason for not wanting to evolve. The Astra’s evolving, and we only knew peace."

Mesa clenched his jaw briefly, but it relaxed as he continued to explain.

"Have you entirely, though? Aren't there still some among you who question this new evolution? Is there not a single Druid that doesn't want to combat the Mecharrion?"

Haledon suddenly realized that this was about Sparrow's interest in other ways to deal with the Mecharrion.

"I thought this was about evolution and adaptation? Now it’s about combat?"

"Nature is combat. Every species evolves and adapts in a never-ending arms race—a tree's bark, a scorpion's stinger, a cheetah's speed. Druids reign supreme on Earth because of our evolutionary successes. Still, we must continue to evolve to remain at the apex of our galactic garden."

"Those sound like good points, but something seems off."

"Oh?"

"If Nature is combative and the purpose of evolution is to compete against your neighbour, then why do trees nurture the saplings of competing species? Why do plants work better in guilds full of various types of accumulators? And why is it that one species always ends up dead when evolution is due to competition? Yet, when they cooperate, they often thrive?"

Mesa continued to walk in silence. His breaths calmed as he adjusted his head to look at Haledon.

"Very intriguing," He remarked, looking forward. Haledon followed his gaze, quickly realizing that they had passed the threshold to the Megacolides.

"Oh, I should, umm—" Haledon pointed behind him.

"It is fine." Mesa motioned him forward again. "Earth culture must be bizarre for you. So many biomes...so many things to consider to keep a planet in ecological balance. Of course, the answer would seem as simple as cooperation to a sapling, such as yourself, in their first season. But the truth is that some aspects of Nature will always twist the rules. Water boils at the touch of lava. The tree is ripped from the ground as the hurricane makes landfall. An avalanche destroys an entire mountainside. But does Nature cease to exist in that spot?"

Mesa turned to Spark.

"Nope," Spark replied curtly.

"To fight is in our genetics, history, and relationship with Nature. Nature is not the compassionate mother that embraces you as the storm overwhelms your den. No. It is the wolf that will drag you into the night. You must respect it, or it will consume you."

Mesa stopped at a dead-end and turned to look at Haledon and Spark.

"It has been great speaking with you, Seral Druid Haledon," Mesa said with a nod. "I believe this is where I leave you."

"But this isn't where I need to be?"

"Isn't it? All those days sitting in the Hypogeal Nexus just to meditate your way into this mysterious room. The one room I am not welcome in on my own ship. Hmph." He inspected the wall, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't understand..." Haledon played dumb, knowing Sparrow would have preferred him to keep his mouth shut.

"Oh, it's fine, it's fine. I'm not asking for an invite in." He turned to leave. "Best of luck on your test today. Spark, that word..."

Haledon watched as Mesa and Spark slowly walked away. They conversed quietly, with Spark peaking over her shoulder once at Haledon before rounding a corner and disappearing.

Looking back at the dead-end, Haledon slowly touched the wall. A leathery iris opened up, and he stepped through the threshold into Sparrow's large workshop.