Chapter 8:

THE OLD MAN OF THE WOODS

Cinder Roots - A Treant's Tale


The treant was still near the lake.

That old human was weird, the nameless treant thought, thinking over his last conversation. That's a good enough reason to at least try! I mean, it’s just a simple medallion, right? And to explore the forest, oh hohoho, I’m excited!

He considered what to do. I think I should try my Tree Talk skill. Maybe they can tell me something.

Tree Talk (Racial skill)

Treats have a natural capability to speak to and understand normal trees, if they feel like talking

If they feel like talking uh? well, let’s see if anyone here feels talkative today.

When he activated the skill, he started to feel every tree in a large circular radius over him. He sensed that all but one were sleeping. It was a giant willow tree.

“Uh, hello there,” the treant spoke.

“GET OFF MY DAMN LAWN!” He heard a shout inside his mind. “YOU DON’T SEE I’M TRYING TO GET SOME SLEEP???”

Aren't you the grumpy one? The treant thought. No matter, I can handle this.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, but I’m in need of some directions”

“Damn kids these days, don’t even know how to walk before losing themselves,” the old tree muttered inside his mind.

Be patient.

“I really need some help, oh kind elder.”

He heard a little laugh “Kind elder, eh? Maybe I was wrong about you after all.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“If I help you, will you leave me be?”

“Yes! I promise!”

“So go on, tell me what you need to know.”

“I need to find Barcus, he’s a Treant like me! I thought you maybe know where he lives?”

“You Treants and you weird names. Hardoak, Burnleaf, Wisehusk, Treeherb, arrgh, I even met one name Beardtree!” He felt a laugh inside his head.

“Yes, I know Barcus. He’s always coming here to nag about everything, saying that I need to wake up or whatever. Why? I’m quite comfortable right here.”

“Soo, you know where he may be at?”

“Of course not! Why would I ever involve myself with that spoiled brat”

“But you just said he always is coming here!”

“Oh yes, the last time he came was about ehh, 36?”

“36 days?”

“Years.”

Darn it.

“I guess you could ask the wind? He always knows everything. Nah, you don’t look the type to talk to the wind.”

“So what can I do?”

“You are one of those walky ones right? You should know better than I do!”

The treant sighed loudly. “Guess I’m by myself on this one. Well, thanks for your time.”

“Sorry about that, kid,” the old willow spoke in his mind. “But tell me, before you go, tell me, what’s your name?”

“Name? I… I never thought about that.”

“I imagined that you wouldn't. You’re young.”

The old tree became silent. An image began to form inside the treant’s mind, a lonely willow seed flying with the wind. Before he could focus more on what he was seeing, the moment passed.

“Allow me, The Old Man Of The Woods, to grant you a name, young child of fire.”

Child of fire?

“I would be honored.”

“By the grace given me by the wind, I declare that for now on, you shall be known as Oberon.”

Oberon. He looked at his stats.

Name Oberon

Level 2

Race Cinderborn Treant

Class Unavailable (Unlocked at Level 5)

The name felt perfect for him.

“That the four elements guide you to safe paths on your journey. Good luck, kid.”

The treant was gone now, disappearing between the trees. He was a fortunate discovery. It would be good if he succeeds. It’s unnecessary, but it's always good to tip the odds a bit further. Titania losing the war right away won’t do me any good, but she needs to remain distracted. Spreading a few false informations along with the message is a delightful bonus. The fey surely discovered what my granddaughter is by now, but I don’t need them to know she is right here, with me.

She looked up to the sky. Almost noon, I need to get back. Grabbing a small leaf from her poncho’s side pocket, she whispered a magic spell.

“Mother’s Return.”

Mother’s Return

By activating the skill while holding a leaf, the caster can teleport to the leaf’s original tree

She felt a gust of wind on her back. Closing her eyes, she prepared herself for the teleportation. It was a weird feeling, almost like floating on water. The trick is to relax and let yourself be taken away; she remembered herself. Many times she felt the teleportation sickness overcome her senses, but always a quick learner. This was easily rectified.

Feeling the teleportation was over, she opened her eyes. In her front stood a rough-looking cottage. The windows were covered in wooden boards, and a strong door was barring the entrance. She personally enchanted them, pouring her potion mixes in the wood itself.

She stopped a few meters from the door, as she thought about the moments that led to this happening. Agatha’s death was unexpected. I knew it was going to happen, but I wish I was the one to end it. She deserved an explanation.

She wasn't really risking herself in the village defense, her most priceless skill guaranteed her survival. It was unavoidable… I needed to make sure what I was doing was the right decision, and I owed at least this to them. Testing her battle skills one last time, she assured herself that what she was about to do was necessary. I gave my all. Their spirits know this.

She let go of the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Finally, this is going to happen! She laughed with excitement. Agatha was useless to me, but Dara, oh Dara, you were the thing I was looking for. My golden angel.

The moment she held her child in her arms, moments after she was born, she knew she’d failed. But when Robert went and told her that Agatha was waiting for a baby, her hopes rose again.

The girl went straight into her house the morning before the battle, and the only thing she needed to do was drop a little bit of a powerful sleeping potion in the tea she prepared. She was going to visit my sister’s grave… I almost felt guilty. Five more years would've been perfect, but I don’t have the luxury to be patient. It’s now or never.

She opened the door.