Chapter 347: Alexander Roth

Whoooooom!

All three fire-gems built power.

Whoooosh!

Claygon’s beams lanced through burning blades, cleaving pieces of wood, incinerating them in seconds. Air elementals darted around the blast, blowing sparks away from the forest and back toward the mill. They looked like fluffy, flying sheepdogs herding a flock.

Crack! Crack! Pop!

Wood snapped, and pockets of moisture detonated within the support beam, shattering it.

Whooosh!

The structure plummeted to the earth in a cascade of soot.

Crash!

It collided with the ground, exploding with an impact that launched sparks and burning shrapnel soaring as high as the mill’s windows. Alex, Bubbles and the air and water elementals chased sparking embers, sucking away the air from hungry flame, or dousing it with waves of water.

Hssss!

Steam hissed from the clearing and edge of the treeline: the sound of smothering flame. Alex ascended, found no flame had spread to the trees or brush, then dove back to the burning blades.

He had the air and water elementals form a circle around the structure as Claygon’s beams struck the blades with their full fury, reducing each one to ash. Air summons hovered around the collapsing structure, controlling flare-ups by sucking away the air while—holding Bubbles—Alex and the water elementals snuffed out flying embers. Smoke billowed through the clearing.

When the windmills’ blades had turned to ash and embers, both wizard and golem scooped up dirt, tossing it onto dying flames around the structure, but the fire still burned within the windmill. Claygon gathered dirt by the handfuls and heaved it through the archway, stifling the flames. Water elementals sprayed, and steam hissed. Air elementals drew in air.

The fire starved.

When all was black smoke and grey steam, Alex leaned against Claygon, rubbing his arms. A month ago, he might have been on the ground gasping for breath from his effort. As it was, he could marvel in the aftermath of it: the mill’s stones had cracked and run like candle wax, pooling in the smouldering debris.

What once was a windmill, was now just another abandoned, burnt out ruin; a reminder of the folly of monsters, blue annis hags, and Ravener-spawn. With a sigh, he stepped away from the blackened shell, as a bitter thought rose in his mind. If he’d had this power, this magic, Claygon, and his summons years before…the Roth Family Alehouse would still be standing, and his parents would be with him and Selina today.

He shook the thought away. Down that road lay daydreams of things beyond his control, and if he walked it, he’d only find ghosts of the past waiting to consume him. He couldn’t help his parents, no matter how much he wanted to, but he could honour them by not being bitter.

“You know, Claygon, that mill might’ve been abandoned long before the Ravener came back, but maybe someone wanted that flour. I’m thinking they’ll be bloody pissed when they come back to a big pile of ash,” he said. “Ah well, all’s fair in love and fighting monsters. Or something like that, I guess.”

They strode into the forest, following the light of the aeld tree to a quiet spot between two large oaks that looked like its bodyguards. The three earth elementals supported it, talking animatedly in their language.

“Alright, little guy.” Alex walked over to the tree, his open palms facing the little sapling. “No more fire. No more flames looking to spread. No more nasty monsters to harm you. So, there’s nothing to be afraid of now. See? I’m noooot going to hurt you.”

The aeld seemed less tense now, the high panic from earlier was gone.

It was still giving off brief waves of uneasiness, but they were mixed with a hint of curiosity.

“Alright, it seems you’re a bit calmer…” Alex said. “So, maybe I can introduce myself.” He pointed to his chest. “My name is Alex, or I guess—”

“Hello.”

“Gah!” Alex jumped a foot in the air and spun around.

Gwyllain had stepped from behind a tree. “I see that the fire’s out. Good on you.”

“Jeez, you nearly scared me half to death, man,” Alex said.

The asrai raised an eyebrow. “Really? I step out from behind a tree and you get scared half to death? I was tied to you while you were flying about, dodging monsters and shooting flames and all that. If you’re half-dead, then I’m dead three times over.”

“Right, right.” Alex rolled his eyes. “Guess I’m overreacting then.”

“Oh bah, don’t pout. I brought you gifts.” Gwyllain presented a scroll case bound in a giant leaf, and a small bag that was leaking cerulean light. “Leasú-todhar.” He jiggled the bag. “Fresh and ready. And your map of course.”

He lifted both, placing them in Alex’s waiting hands.

“There you go. Now…listen carefully. For the aeld to thrive, you must know certain things if you’re going to do well by it. Heed my words now, for mortals have known despair by not using the proper ways with an aeld.”

“Right, I’m listening.”

Gwyllain held up one webbed finger. “First, you must plant the tree at noon when the sun’s not hidden by clouds. Doing so will let the tree drink in its rays and plant its roots deep. Plant it on a cloudy day, and the roots will be shallow. Plant it at night, and the tree will never reach its true strength.”

“Right,” Alex said. “So, noon on a sunny day. Gotcha.”

Gwyllain held up a second finger. “You must never take from the tree anything it can’t replace. Not without permission. Pluck fruit. Pluck flower. Pluck leaf only sparingly. These are always things the tree can make more of. Never take a branch nor bough by force: just as the tree can give fortune, it can also take fortune back. Saw off a branch for decoration or firewood, and you’ll find your food spoiling quicker and making you sick. Harvest will be poor, and animals will fall sick. Falls that should be bumps will make broken bones. Don’t trifle with it.”

“Got it,” Alex said.

“I’m serious!” the asrai said. “Too many mortals look at an aeld and take it for granted.”

“I’m not going to.” The wizard smiled. “I’m not the kind of guy to spit in the face of advice.”

“Well, right you are, then.” Gwyllain held up a third finger. “Water the tree, but don’t drown it. Feed it, for it needs lots of energy. With leasú-todhar, you’ll want to mix a pinch of the stuff per gallon of pure water. The purer, the better.”

Alex glanced at Bubbles. “I think I can manage ‘pure’.”

“Good …and should the aeld grant you a gift of a branch, make sure you seal all wounds with fresh honey.”

“Got it,” Alex said. “Fresh honey?”

“The fresher the better,” Gwyllain said. “Our Lorekeepers say that the first aeld tree took two protectors into its branches: a queen of hornets and a queen of honeybees. The queen of bees made her hive and had her workers pollinate the aeld. The queen of hornets made her hive to protect the aeld from enemies. The trees have had an affinity for honey and hornet venom ever since.”

“Huh…I didn’t know that…” the wizard mused. “Should I get my hands on a hornet queen and honeybee queen for it? Let them build hives in its branches?”

“Only if you really trust it and the tree trusts you, otherwise it’ll set the swarms on anyone it doesn’t like.”

“Got it…possibility of getting stung to death…I’ll remember that.”

“Anything else?”

“Don’t betray it. And be careful to be direct with it,” the asrai warned. “Be kind, but understand: it’s a tree. It feels, but it doesn't exactly do ‘nuance’ and social grace.”

“Right, so treat it gently, but honestly. Like a kid.”

“No, not like a baby goat.”

Silence followed.

“Oh, no I mean like a child!”

“Oh right, yes,” the asrai yawned. “That. And there…that’s all I can teach you. The rest is up to you.”

“Gotcha…so what now? Heading home?”

“Oh yes,” Gwyllain said, nodding emphatically. “I thought I was dead about a half a dozen times tonight. Too much excitement! And not the good kind! But…with this—” He looked at the aeld sapling. “—we’re squared, right? All debts paid?”

“All debts paid,” Alex said. “I really appreciate what you did. You should look me up again sometime, it’d be fun to have a chat when we’re not fighting for our lives.”

Gwyllain gave him a look. “If it’s all the same to you…I’m probably going to avoid you for a bit. Too young. Too hot-blooded. I’ll give you a few decades to mellow out before I even think about coming to see you again. …wait, you’re a wizard. Maybe a century or so, then.”

Alex laughed. “Alright, well, maybe I’ll see you in thirty to a hundred years, eh?”

“Maybe. Oh, and…thank you again for saving my life. And for wiping out the monsters. The forest around here will be a nicer place with them gone. There’ll be more food for beasts and the smaller fae folk too. Farewell then, Alex…that’s a human nickname that’s short for Alexander, isn’t it?”

The young wizard blinked. “Yeah, it is…though I can’t remember the last time anyone called me that.”

“Right, goodbye, Alexander. May the moon smile on you and may the sun’s kiss be gentle.”

With that, the little fae stepped into the trees.

And, after a few heartbeats, Alex could no longer hear his soft footsteps in the dark. He waited for a time, listening to the wind rustling through the canopy, then turned back to the aeld tree.

“Right, I was introducing myself. So I’m Alex Roth. Alexander Roth if you’d prefer, though nobody calls me that except for Gwyllain. Anyway, I’m a wizard, and I was hoping to take you back to a place where a bunch of my wizard friends have made a base. I was thinking we could plant you there and give you a nice safe place to grow up. We have magical techniques that help plants grow big and strong, and you wouldn’t have to worry about fire, animals or anything else.”

Alex kept his voice calm, slow and soothing.

The tree’s nerves slowly seemed to calm, replaced by a questioning aura. The young wizard had no idea what the tree was curious about…so he just decided to explain all that he could ​​about the encampment, the Generasians, and what they were doing in Greymoor.

“My point is, we’re not going to do anything to you…though, I hope that you’ll grant me one boon.” He looked at the tree’s branches. “I understand that you can ‘gift’ some of your wood to those who aid you. So, I was hoping that you would grant me a branch so I could make myself a staff. I won’t take anything more than what is offered, and I give you my word on that.”

More and more, the waves of emotion emanating from the aeld were shifting from anxiety, to growing calm and curiosity.

“Okay, so, what I’m going to do is transplant you in the middle of our home. My hope is that—while we protect you—you’ll bless our home with fortune and plenty. Is that fair?”

The tree’s curiosity grew, along with another quick spike of nerves.

“Don’t worry, I’ll transport you as gently as I can.”

Bubbles poured water onto its roots, while earth elementals packed soil around them. Alex carefully added some of the leasú-todhar to the wet soil. It glowed with a cerulean light before vanishing, then a feeling of warmth and exhilaration rose from it, its light turned more radiant.

Alex smiled. “You like that, do you? Good.” He took off his cloak.

The sapling continued emitting feelings of curiosity and nerves while the summons worked.

The earth elementals slowly raised it then formed a ball with the soil and tree roots, Alex wrapped his cloak around them. Mr Lu used to bring home fruit trees from the Coile and protect their rootballs with burlap while he transported them. Alex didn’t have burlap, but his cloak would do for the trip to the encampment. Once the cloak was securely tied, Claygon gently scooped up the ball with his lower hands, steadying the trunk with his upper ones.

“Easy now, steady,” Alex said. “You okay up there, little guy?”

It felt strange calling a ten foot tall tree ‘little guy,’ but it seemed appropriate: Gwyllain had said to treat it like a child, after all. The feelings emanating from it were a mix of fear, trepidation and a warm sense of hope.

He patted its roots. “Alright, let’s take you to a better place.”

Taking a final look around the forest, Alex, Claygon and the summons made their way through the woods and out into the moors. Bubbles dripped water onto his cloak, keeping the aeld’s roots moist. Together, the young wizard and the golem—gently cradling the sapling—walked through the moors to camp…

…or almost to camp, if they hadn’t run into a small survey team led by Ripp about a hundred feet from the forest.

“What the hell happened to you?” the swiftling asked. “We heard a big explosion then saw a mountain of fire filling the sky all the way from the encampment. What went on out there? And what’s that?”

Alex looked at the tree. “Hopefully, the beginning of a beautiful relationship.”