Chapter 26

"No-no-no-no-no—" Haledon panicked as he continued to flip.

He flailed his arms, unsure whether he was trying to grab for the distant Astralaceaes or correct his trajectory from within the vacuum. Helplessly, he continued to spin out of control towards a distant Megacolides.

"Self-regulate and accept feedback." He panted as he tried to think of ways to be rescued.

He muttered in Druidic and danced his fingers around his wrist. His body pulsed with a quick flash of bioluminescence. Like a firefly drifting through space, he would darken before flashing again, with the hope of signalling rescue.

"Now...someone, please see this. Nature, don't let this be the end of my ecosystem."

Haledon's body flashed again as he flipped, lighting towards his Astralaceaes. As he saw his home growing ever more distant, the thought of disobeying Sparrow crossed his mind, and instantly, he felt worse about his predicament. The feeling weighed down on his chest momentarily before giving way to confusion.

"What—?" He mumbled as he tried to look through the hardened sap of his visor.

Coming from the Astralaceaes was a small white figure. It darted towards him at unnatural speeds, and by the second flip, it had already halved the distance. When the Astralaceaes came into view again, it had begun floating in tandem with Haledon. The pale humanoid figure of Birchbark listlessly drifted beside. Its head twitched in his direction, but it made no sound in the void.

"Haledon..." It spoke without moving its pale, bark lips.

Unlike before, the voice did not echo or dig into his mind. In the airless void, it spoke clearly and calmly.

"Birchbark?" He muttered as he flipped over again.

"Yes, that is a name you've provided." It said and twitched again. "You appear to be in distress."

Birchbark raised a pale hand, and Haledon felt a sense of vertigo as a sudden gravitational force tugged his body. In an instant, he was righted and turned to face Birchbark.

"You can talk?"

"Yes, and it is wonderful to speak with you in a way you can audibly comprehend," Birchbark spoke smoothly. "There is far too much phytofeedback within the hull for communication."

"What do you mean? What are you—who are you?"

Birchbark smiled and pointed back towards the ship.

"I am the Astralaceae Pioneeris."

Haledon floated in silence, staring at the manifestation of his home. He felt his mind racing with reasons that this newfound information should be false, but at that moment, he knew it was true. It was as though there had always been that suspicion without needing to be spoken or thought.

The hallucination suddenly made sense to him. He knew he had felt something when he touched the tree in his Nexus, the locations most integrated with the Astralaceaes. It hadn't been a figment of his imagination. Instead, it was the ship's consciousness reaching back to him.

"How?" He asked.

"The new supply of nutrients evolved a need for audio and visual communication instead of sensory pulses." Haledon's body flashed again, and Birchbark stared down at him. Reaching out, they touched his chest, and the barken plate of his SOIL transformed. The wood expanded outward, shedding its once dark brown bark for that of a white aspen exterior.

"There." Birchbark nodded and looked back up to Haledon. "You're now better equipped for the void."

"What did you do?" Haledon felt at his new SOIL chest piece.

"You now process heat and air more efficiently—and we shouldn't have that feedback any longer."

"What is happening? Why are you speaking to me?"

Birchbark twisted their head again, and the hollow eyes narrowed curiously.

"You are the Master of Succession, are you not?"

"I most certainly am not!" He yelled out in reply.

"But you grow the Hypogeal Nexus."

"Yes, but Primeval Druid Hannar is the Emergent of the Hilum."

"And Primeval Druid Hannar acts as a wonderful voice of mine, but the mouth is not the heart."

"What?"

"The Hypogeal Nexus has always been the center of my seed, the beating heart that sustains every living thing. And long ago, the First Pioneers looked to the Primeval Druid Hawk for guidance from his roost in the Nexus. His suggestions led to the initial success and survival of my biosphere in the void. And upon his death, at his request, my ecosystem was left to a Layering of Druids. Each was equally important, but none was Hawk. His death was mourned for many seedings by myself and countless generations. He is your and Hannar's distant ancestor. His—is your future."

Haledon stared at Birchbark in disbelief.

"I am detecting an increase in your heart rate. You appear to be, yet again, in distress?"

"No, yesterday, I thought of you as a hallucination, a thing—" Haledon thought as he looked at the image. He reached for Birchbark, his woven-root fingertips touching the solid figure. Unlike before, there was no chill or overwhelming sensations, just solid bark.

"Today, you're...oh no—Witch-Hazel!" Haledon suddenly remembered his friend. "Is Witch-Hazel okay? I need to get back to the Astra—now. Can you get me there?"

"I, unfortunately, cannot. I was able to catch you at the edge of my gravity well, locating you safely within a Lagrange point between my hull and that of a neighbouring Megacolides. Rest assured, I can sense your Guild will depart shortly; they were also quite stressed by your sudden departure."

Haledon's body pulsed with light again before dimming. Birchbark had looked away from him and was now gazing towards the fleet that Haledon found himself drifting along.

"Haledon, I have wanted to ask—what happened to my sisters?" Birchbark inquired and directed their gaze back towards the Druid.

"The other Astralaceaes?"

"My sisters have been with me for a long time, but many have stopped talking, and we are confused."

Haledon felt a tug at his heart as it fell into his stomach."I—Birchbark, the Mecharrion—the others are gone."

"That cannot be; I can still feel parts of them now living within me. They just no longer speak."

"We gathered their detritus and added it to every Astra to aid future growth. It is—"

"As Nature intended. I understand," Their face looked away and stared at the fleet."And my sisters understand. I sense you are...saddened?"

"Birchbark, do you know what is coming?" Haledon asked.

"You speak of the Ferrum-Resonantia."

"The what?"

"The metalloid craft that loudly resonates with unusual frequencies. My sisters stopped speaking shortly after the second one appeared."

"Second? You mean the one Mecharrion ship?"

"Your language betrays me. I mean to say, this has happened prior—specifically, sixteen million one hundred and twenty-five thousand five hundred eighty-three days ago. A metalloid object of similar frequency and minuscule size impacted one of my sisters."

"That's...how long is that?"

"Forty-four thousand one hundred and seventy-nine years."

"The sick Astra." Haledon gasped as he thought of the dendron rods he had in the Nexus."It was Mecharrion...that must have been that unique binder I couldn't figure out!"

"Calx'hurrana became confused some twenty thousand years ago. We had to guide her frail ecosystem in our gravity wake. This—Mecharrion—is a predator?"

"Yes, they seek to destabilize Nature."

"Why?"

"We don't know."

Birchbark's head twitched again. "Curious."

Floating around Haledon, the pale figure reached out and touched his SOIL. They dragged their limb around his body, inspecting every inch before stopping behind him.

"There is a wolf within me." They said, and Haledon felt them pluck something from his shoulder before floating to his front. "It stalks my corridors and confuses my senses."

"The wolf? Is the wolf real?" Haledon began to panic as his dreams and hallucinations filled his waking mind.

"No—Yes? As the Master of Succession, will you find this out for me? There are some things even I cannot do."

"Don't call me that. I'm just a Seral Druid—I can speak with Sparrow."

"The Druids of Earth meddle in their own ecosystems, separate from mine. They are already preoccupied with their race to the canopy and soon will be even more—"

Birchbark turned its head and looked back towards the Astralaceaes.

"Your Guild is on its way. Upon returning to my ecosystem, I ask that you come to the Hypogeal Nexus."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

Birchbark reached a hand out and released a silvery root in front of Haledon.

"This species is invasive to your SOIL."

Haledon grasped the root as his body flashed with light again. Looking up, Birchbark's body had become a white dot that quickly merged into the Astralaceaes. In that direction, the familiar form of a dragonfly glided through space toward him.

His mind raced with more questions than he had answers. And as he watched the Gravodonata approaching, his mind kept returning to the same question, "Master of Succession?"

The gravity skimmer flipped around as it neared its final approach. Haledon watched as the tail extended straight out, and the limbs opened to grab towards him, though never touching his body. Instead, he felt the same vertigo as before as a gravitational force pulled him towards the craft.

Approaching the cercus, a chitinous iris opened, and Haledon was pulled within. As one door closed behind, a second iris opened before him. Gazeas was the first through the opening, falling to her knees and placing her hands on Haledon.

"We've got him. Get back to the Astra."

Haledon's foliar helmet quickly decomposed, and he looked up to Gazeas. A wave of chills rushed over his body as he felt the warmth of the ship.

"C-cold." He stuttered through chattering teeth.

"Yeah, I'd say. You're below half the appropriate body temperature for a Druid of your stature." Her hands rushed through Druidic rune after Druidic rune as she muttered under her breath. Haledon felt layers of plants beginning to cover him in dense shrubbery. "By all laws of Nature, you should be dead. You are quite lucky, Seral Druid Haledon. Stubborn—and lucky."

She leaned in and placed a hand on his cheek. Looking into his eyes, the bioluminescent glow from her finger caused him to blink.

"Not luck—" Haledon groaned as he closed his eyes.

"Look at me," Gazeas ordered, continuing to examine his eyes. "Tell me what you mean, not luck."

"Birchbark—" He huffed, his body suddenly feeling drained. "Birchbark is—"

"Haledon, Haledon, stay with me."

"Astralaceaes." He managed to say before his world went dark.

Haledon didn't experience a dream in the darkness but saw images unlike before. He floated carelessly between the abyss of space and the light of the Astralaceaes. Then he was within the seed, at the top of the watering hole, looking up into the void. He saw Druids laughing, crying, and talking. Suddenly, he was at the edge where the Astralaceaes and Megacolides met. Sparrow was there, yelling at Mesa. The shifting images stopped as he became consumed by this moment. He approached, and Sparrow turned to look at him. With a wave of her hand, Haledon awoke.

"Ahg!" Haledon tried to sit up but was restrained beneath a thicket of woody limbs and oval leaves. "Let me—" He began to mutter in Druidic.

"Wait-wait-wait—" Gazeas grumbled as she rushed over. "By Nature's—Haledon, stop squirming."

Her voice calmed him, and he ceased moving for that moment.

"Where am I?"

"You're still in the skimmer; you were only unconscious for a few moments."

"Sparrow...Witch-Hazel—"

"Haledon..." Gazeas said softly.

"Where are they? Where's Witch-Hazel?"

He felt the Gravodonata lock into place with the Megacolides. The scurrying of feet came from the front of the ship.

"How's he doing?" Mek-Tek interrupted.

"He's cold but alive, somehow." Her voice was nearly as cold as Haledon's body.

"Witch-Hazel—" Haledon tried to move again, but the foliage held him in place. "Let me out of this."

"Haledon, your body needs to regulate. Give it some time. You push your ecosystem right now, and you will experience full bio-collapse. Rest."

"Will someone please tell me if Witch-Hazel is okay?"

"Hey, Druid, chill your sprout. The herbalist says rest, so you rest." A familiar but richer voice came from the front of the Gavodonata. "Plus, I'm in a monogamous relationship with Nature, so I just don't think we're birds of a feather."

Haledon adjusted his head to see the freshly grown form of Witch-Hazel walking towards him. The once-deep wounds cut into his face had vanished, and the notable yellow flowers had only begun to blossom again.

"Oh, thank Nature, you're alive."

"Yeah, and thank me, you're alive," Witch-Hazel smirked. "Let's consider ourselves balanced from that Wendigo fight."