Tree Guardian

by Andrew Karevik

  This has led to great tensions between any mortal and dragons. Elves, orcs, humans, gnomes and goblins can all agree that dragons represent great enemies. Enough so that word of a dragon’s presence can give any nearby kingdom reason to offer a bounty in exchange for the eradication of such a monster.

  Adding a dragon to my repertoire would undoubtedly increase the number of adventurers who visited. And on top of that, it might be able to solve my information problem. With this Invasion coming in, I was at a severe disadvantage. I had no idea what these creatures were, where they were coming from and why they would wish to invade us. But a dragon that was long-lived and had traversed many planes might possess that kind of information. At the very least, a single conversation with such a creature would give me a better idea of what I would be facing.

  How would I attract a dragon? By offering it the one thing that any dragon was so desperate to gain: wealth. Dragons were loner creatures by nature. Their greed often led them to commit many crimes, not only against mortals but also one another, in the hopes of increasing their fortune. A dragon knew exactly how much wealth it owned, down to the very last coin. Enjoying more wealth allowed for a dragon to lord it over its contemporaries and assert its own superiority.

  From what I gathered about dragon culture, a dragon must always defer to the wealthier one in social matters. No matter the disagreement or the argument, the one with the most gold always won. It was a strange custom and, from the outset, seemed rather silly. At least, until one considered the ramifications of dragons who decided to fight one another.

  All dragons were immensely powerful and immortal. If one dragon slew the other, the vanquished would return to the earth and, after a few thousand years, come back and seek revenge. There was no forgiveness in these creatures and a grudge could be carried out forever. The only way for dragons to ensure that they would not be locked in a perpetual struggle was to find some other means to assert superiority than combat. And since they were greedy by nature, they looked at gathering wealth as the ultimate sign of power.

  I had earned quite a bit of gold since I had allowed Gariatha to do business within me. Many trading companies were sending shipments to or from me, and as always they paid a tribute. The goblins exported their own crafts, earning themselves quite a profit and paying me a portion as well. With those two sources of income, combined with the fact that adventurers were always leaving large amounts of valuable items in my dungeon, I had well over a few million gold pieces amassed.

  Such riches were of no real value to me and I kept them in my storehouses, to be used whenever something important needed to be taken care of. But upon looking at the last statement one of the goblin clerks provided me with, I realized that such a mass of wealth could be used to convince a dragon to take up residence within me. Or at the very least, get him to tell me about the Invaders.

  And so, I expanded the third level greatly, allowing plenty of room in Zone 2, as well as placing a portal that led to the outside world—so the dragon could come and go as it pleased. I had my goblins lay out two million gold pieces, creating the stereotypical dragon’s hoard that I had seen depicted in so many paintings and illustrations of dragons. This was an exhaustive process for the goblins, hauling back wheelbarrows full of wealth, but they did an excellent job in showing restraint at the sight of so much money. No one took a single coin, for they knew that—in doing so—they would not only be shaming their tribe but also incurring my full wrath. Or so they believed. Truthfully, I did not care if a few coins got lost in the transportation. The goblins had served me well and they were kin to me. What was mine was theirs. Perhaps they had realized that too and thus saw no need to steal the coins.

  Once the piles of gold, gems and collections of magical items were properly placed, it was time to call forth a dragon. Fortunately, it was fairly easy to summon a dragon through magic. It was a common practice for a wizard, who was being irritated by a commoner who wanted to be apprenticed, to teach this spell to the victim. The so-called apprentice would excitedly cast their first spell, not realizing what they were doing, and they would end up getting devoured by the irritated dragon who had only answered the summon for a free meal. The fact that just about every wizard who died within my dungeon had intimate knowledge of this spell showed me how poorly wizards thought of their apprentices.

  I cast the spell, making sure to localize the area to the third level of the dungeon. I wanted the dragon to see the treasure I had to offer it. I also would prefer for such a dangerous creature to be trapped in an area where I could easily bombard it with spells, in case it decided to try to bring me harm. I was unsure of how such a creature would interact with an immortal being like myself. Most literature on the subject of dragons never looked at that perspective.

  As I concentrated on the spell, I could see smoke beginning to pour out of thin air. It billowed as if a thousand trees were on fire, and from the thick black smoke emerged a gigantic scaled head. It was a red dragon, with glowing yellow eyes, a long fiery snout and two horns jutting from the corners of its skull.

  “You do not appear to be a morsel for me to eat,” the dragon said, chuckling a little to himself. “What are you?”

  “I am the Great Tree that looms over Yehan,” I said. The dragon had not fully emerged from the portal that had been created by the summoning spell. It had most likely been preparing to simply bite and leave.

  “Ah, I see. A stranger to these lands? A fellow traveler?” the dragon said as it slithered out of the portal. It was gigantic, but fortunately I had created enough space for it to fit within me. The dragon turned its head and looked at all the gold. “Oh my. For me?”

  “It is my hope that we can come to an arrangement,” I replied. “And yes, I am not from Yehan, but a realm long forgotten and long destroyed.”

  The dragon nodded but did not turn its attention away from the gold. “Realms seem to do that from time to time. Collapse upon themselves. A terrible destruction brought about due to carelessness or stupidity.”

  “Indeed. Would you stay awhile and speak with me?”

  “Of course,” the dragon said as it curled up on the ground and rested its face towards the gold. “It is rare for me to have the company of a being so powerful. You radiate a divine power, yet you are not a god. Which is fortunate, I suppose, for the gods do not care for dragons in Yehan. We tend to be quite disruptive towards their feeble plans.”

  “I have encountered such hostilities from the divine beings as well,” I said, reflecting on the false Agara’s treachery and the cruelty of the Greater Five. Three of them had sought to bring me harm, simply for the crime of giving the orcs an afterlife.

  “Then we are kindred spirits. My name is Yim.”

  “And I am the World Tree.”

  Yim continued to face the gold, no doubt counting it all in his head. “I like the warmth of this place. You have researched quite well to create a habitat for me.”

  “Is my request so transparent?”

  “I have met many a wizard with such offerings, in the hopes of gaining a guard dog for their towers. They offer me gold and treasure, even spells, all so they can obtain my favor. But what is an ant to a demigod? I gobble them up all the same and take what is mine.”

  “You would very well injure your teeth trying to eat a tree,” I said. This elicited a great, raspy laugh from Yim.

  “Indeed. But you are like me, and thus deserve dignity and respect. I can sense the great power crackling within you. How one manages to stay in one place for all their life, however, I cannot imagine.”

  “And how one travels about, seeing the world and always moving, I cannot fathom either,” I replied.

  “Opposite worlds, I suppose,” Yim said. “Two million and twenty-five thousand. Impressive, but not enough.” He began to speak arcane words to open a portal back up, but I was able to stop him.

  “What if I gave it to you anyway?”

  Yim glanced upwards at me. “A
nd you are feeling charitable for what reason?”

  “I wish to learn about other strangers to this realm. Invaders of sorts.”

  Yim licked his lips and grinned wickedly. “All of this in exchange for some information? You must be desperate.”

  And so, I told Yim about all that I had seen. The vision that the Mistmother had confided in me, the strange beings that were heading towards this reality. He listened intently, only losing focus a few times, to recount the gold. Once I had finished, he spoke.

  “Oh, I have great knowledge of what you worry about.”

  “You do?” I almost shouted. Finally, I was about to receive some answers!

  “Oh yes,” Yim said, blowing out some smoke from his nostrils. “There are many names given to such things, by whatever realm they arrive to. But they always behave the same. They consume reality itself, eating away at every piece of the world until there is nothing left. Air, magic, gravity. They feast upon it all. Voracious beings that come in many shapes and sizes, but not intelligent like you or I. But I believe that something directs them. Perhaps a singular consciousness, like yourself, able to use these creatures as its own fingers. Or perhaps they are simply manifestations of entropy, meant to bring a reality to its end. Either way, they are unstoppable.”

  “There must be some way,” I said, but Yim scoffed at that.

  “I have met these things three times in my life. The first I believed they were just monsters bothering the mortals, and so I ignored them. But within thirty days, they had devoured the entire world. I was quick to leave that plane and found it impossible to return to. I sought them out, as many a dragon did, to find out what they were, but could not find a home realm for them. Instead, I came across a second land where great warriors with fierce pride and nobility fought them off, forging weapons using shards from other realms.

  “They too were devoured, for once the Invasion had begun, there were too many of these creatures to repel. For every Invader killed, fourteen would pour out of their holes in reality. That realm was eaten as well, although at a slower rate.”

  “What was the third time that you encountered them?”

  “When a band of dragons came forward with a plan to kill them entirely. One of our favorite realms, a place that grew such sweet fruit that gave the most wondrous of sensations, was under siege. Every dragon had been to this realm and all knew of the value of such a delicious foodstuff. So, we banded together, fifty of us, to fight them off. But unfortunately, our fires could not scorch them. Our magics were ignored. Only our razor sharp claws could affect them, but fifty dragons could not kill tens of thousands of those things.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  Yim shrugged. “I was a boy at the time, so perhaps forty thousand years ago? I hear reports every now and then of such things. Such invasions. But I steer clear. Who knows what might happen to a dragon who dies in a realm that is devoured? I doubt they’d return.”

  Yim’s story caused my heart to grow weary with grief. If dragons could not repel such an Invasion, how could I possibly do so?

  “You are in pain,” Yim said. “I feel your sorrow. I am sorry that this realm is doomed. You are a seed, yes? I could ferry your core to another place and plant you somewhere if you would like.”

  “I am the World Tree of Yehan,” I said. “I cannot abandon my people. If they shall all be destroyed, then so shall I.”

  “I see no nobility in such a thing,” Yim said. “Mortals are not worth much trouble.”

  “Yet the fruit of a tree was enough to motivate you to fight?”

  “If you had tasted of such fruit, you would have understood,” Yim said. “Have I satisfied your curiosity enough for me to leave with my treasure? Or do you need to know more? I fear there is nothing I can tell you to help you fight against them.”

  “This fruit…if you were to provide me with your memory of it, I could replicate it,” I said. This caught the attention of Yim, who turned his head away from the gold and looked up.

  “You can?”

  “There are spells that allow one to relive another’s memories entirely,” I replied. “If you grant me your memory willingly, I can learn all of what it does. As a tree of great power, I can reproduce it with my own magic. Maybe that would entice you to stay here?”

  “I fear I cannot stay if this Invasion will be taking place,” Yim said. “I do not wish to be caught up in such a nasty affair.”

  “You have nine years before reality here ends,” I said. This was my only bargaining chip to keep him here.

  “Nine years?” Yim said. “You wish me only to stay here for nine years? That is…but a moment to me. And to you.”

  “I am aware, but I am forced to stay focused, to tune into each passing second, in order to save these people.”

  “The fruit and the gold, for nine measly years?” the dragon said, chuckling to himself. “I will mostly be sleeping for the duration of it.” It was apparent that, with such an agreement, the dragon was getting quite a deal. It was simply too good for him to pass up.

  “Very well,” Yim said. “If you would provide me with not only the fruit but seeds, so that I may grow them elsewhere, as well as the gold, I shall stay here and guard this spot.” He lay on the ground and curled up into a ball. “Wake me when you have made the fruit. Or don’t. Nine years is such a short time…”

  And with that, the newest resident of the Feverwood Dungeon fell into a deep sleep. His very presence would be an affront to any kingdom nearby and no doubt I would have many more adventurers coming to slay him. But in spite of this victory, I felt hallow and empty. These Invaders had struck other realms and consumed them entirely? How many worlds had fallen? How many gods were devoured along with their followers? If a band of mighty dragons in their prime could not stop them, how could I?

  Chapter 15

  When a monumental task is set before you, one that looks impossible to achieve and—by all conventional wisdom—is indeed impossible, you have two options. You can sink into despair and give up, or you can press on. As far as I was concerned, I had no other choice but to press on, for if I were to give into despair I could quickly lose my sense of time. And if that happened, well, the Invasion would be here faster than I could react. I had to stay within time and focus on each passing moment. If I did not, I could very well lose it all.

  Things were going well for the Feverwood Dungeon. News of the dragon’s arrival rapidly spread out when Yim had awoken from a nap to go out to eat some fresh cattle in one of the villages. Throughout all of Yehan, calls for the destruction of the dragon were issued by kings and queens. Some great nobles even arose, put on their ancestral armor and took up lances to receive the glory of slaying a dragon. Most would not make it past the first level.

  In addition to the steady supply of adventurers who were coming to see me, the orcs had figured out a way to put a stop to the Dungeon Below’s ever growing entrances. Whenever a new entry was spotted, they’d take several crates of alchemist firepowder and blow the opening to pieces. When they’d do this, they could hear a horrific, guttural shrieking from inside as if the damage to the dungeon had hurt the creature itself.

  This was a curiosity. I had no such vulnerabilities myself. Adventurers often caused severe destruction to my interior. One time, a team of gnome engineers had believed that there was a secret treasure in my mouth and used the same firepowder to blow it to smithereens. Incidentally, they did not find treasure nor were they able to clear the explosion before it caught up to them. This event did not bring me any pain. The only thing that could hurt me was damage to my core, or divine magic that was intent on causing me suffering.

  The news that the Dungeon Below might show some kind of physical weakness was exciting. It meant that it could be pushed back from the surface. And indeed, it tried to create more entrances, but after the third detonation it ceased pressing its mouth to the outside world.

  I shared this information with the wizard
Fernus who, upon hearing the news, began to scream obscenities and destroy all of his progress on the spell. Apparently, he had been working on the assumption that the Dungeon Below wasn’t organic. From what I could tell, there were many different ways to create dungeons. And while all intelligent dungeons held a core, some of these did not show the same level of self-preservation that others did.

  Rather than hide their own core away from the world, these dungeons would instead opt to expand it, shifting their own bodies into the dungeon itself. What we saw as walls, ceilings and floors were actually just its own skin, in a sense. This offered one major benefit: there was no secret compartment holding the vulnerable core. Instead, the entire dungeon was the core; so the only way to kill it would be to destroy the entire dungeon at once—a feat that no adventurer, no matter how reckless, would be able to achieve.

  If the core had access to a lot of magic, it could simply regrow itself. As long as a single sliver of the dungeon remained, it would have full power and consciousness. And since no one was able to explore the Dungeon Below and stay alive long enough to report back, we had no idea just how big this creature was. Destroying it, Fernus explained, might require enough firepower to permanently create a new passage to the Hollowlands. I was unsure if I wanted to take this option, but Fernus ignored my hesitation and began to develop a spell that would do just that.

  I was relieved to discover that the Dungeon Below was fundamentally different from me. It would lead Fernus away from researching magic that could bring potential harm to my own self, although in truth he would most likely continue that research anyway. But now that I knew of a way to kill my nemesis, I didn’t particularly need Fernus alive anymore. I had been somewhat worried about a team of adventurers taking him down before he finished his work, but now that wasn’t too much of a problem. After all, wanton destruction was something just about any wizard could do. I could probably just send a letter to a nearby mages’ guild with a request for their aid. But I would wait until Fernus had finished his new spell, just so I did not risk insulting his power.