Tree Guardian

by Andrew Karevik

  “Why are you offering me what I already have?” I asked as I prepared another offensive.

  I was growing more in tune with the magic and, together, we were able to snap off a few more spells, piercing through Drinar’s body. He was able to repair after each attack, so quickly that he didn’t even bother shielding himself after the fourth one.

  My magic does not run out. You cannot wear me down, Drinar said.

  “Neither will I wear down,” I replied. This much was true; the magic returned to me after every strike, growing stronger with each use, similar to the godspells.

  Then we are at an impasse, Drinar replied as he turned around. Farewell.

  As he attempted to move away from me, I cast a spell that created a force field around the immediate area.

  “I may not be able to kill you, but I can keep you here for as long as I can,” I said.

  Drinar inspected the shimmering green energy that was blocking him off from the rest of the world. I do not understand how you are still in control to this degree.

  “It turns out there are benefits to being paranoid,” I replied, thinking of the many safety measures I had created in order to prevent another Urioc situation from happening. Ehdrid had called me overcautious after the fifteenth spell, but I thought I knew better. Because the spell that saved me was spell number seventeen. I would gloat of my victory to Ehdrid later, I resolved. Once I was able to defeat this god killing horror in front of me, that is.

  You vex me to no end, Drinar growled. Yet you hold too much of the great power to be slain. I will not trade one prison sentence for another. The ground began to shake and the sky began to slowly turn violet. You wish to defend this world, yes? Then I shall destroy it.

  “No one has the power to destroy Yehan like such,” I said, preparing a counter to whatever spell he was about to throw at me.

  One does not need to destroy all of Yehan, wasting so much energy. Oh no, there just needs to be a certain amount of damage to the threads that keep Yehan’s atmosphere safe from the burning power of the sun. I was created by a mad wizard who was obsessed with such a plan. I saw no reason to kill everything and thus rejected his ideals. But now? If you insist on imprisoning me, I shall remove your incentive to do so.

  I was skeptical about his supposed ability to bring about the destruction of Yehan’s atmosphere, but I certainly didn’t have the luxury to sit and wait for him to try out this spell. If the attack wasn’t directed at me, however, I wouldn’t be able to counter it so easily. I was still unable to see the threads of his spell’s creation.

  This fight needed to end. Drinar had obviously lost a lot of power in his imprisonment, but the more he was using his deep magic, the stronger he would get. He could not beat me right now, but in a few hours? A few days? I would not be so lucky. I could not hold out and hope that the gods would be arriving to save the world. They had failed the first time, and they would certainly not rush into anything so dangerous.

  I pondered what I could possibly do. Our powers were matched, his magic was strong and mine equally so. Anything we threw at one another would be deflected or dispelled. There had to be some kind of weakness, some way I could take Drinar down. My mind drifted to my essence, the very thing that had prevented Drinar from consuming me in the first place.

  The Illuminated being had mentioned that it would be impossible to absorb me because my essence was not of Yehan. What then, I wondered, would be the side effects if he did try to absorb me? Would it tear him to pieces? Or would it be detrimental to me? No, if it only brought harm to me then…wouldn’t Drinar have tried to devour me once I made my intentions to fight him known?

  This meant that absorbing me would be dangerous for him. Perhaps it would be dangerous for the both of us, our bodies torn apart by the joining of energies that were not meant to match together. Yet, if I did not take such a risky action, Yehan would be set afire. I had committed to fighting and overcoming Drinar, no matter the cost. I had no guarantee that such a maneuver would be safe, but I needed to do something in order to take him down.

  I signaled intentions of creating an absorption spell of my own to the deep magic and prepared for what was to come.

  Chapter 39

  Drinar’s scythes were raised high; he had almost generated the energy necessary to create the spell that would bring great fire to the sky. In the same time, I had focused on crafting my own spell, meant to consume him. I would try and absorb him, just as he had absorbed the millions he came across so long ago. It was a risky plan and would almost certainly destroy my body, but I had to try. I hoped that my disconnected core would be safe from the effects of the absorption, but there were no guarantees.

  I had opened an emergency portal within my dungeon, for all residents and visitors to evacuate to the realm of giants, where they would be safe. There was not a single soul left inside of me, just in case. Ehdrid’s people were growing used to the routine of suddenly having to escape due to some nigh unstoppable being coming after me. They weren’t even panicked when they left, knowing full well that they would return to safety in a few days or weeks. I wished that I could be as confident in my abilities as they were.

  I sense your worry, Drinar taunted. Just drop the shield and allow me freedom.

  “What does it feel like, when you absorb others?” I asked, watching as the spell within me was preparing to release itself.

  To be honest? Unless the individual was particularly strong, it didn’t much feel like anything, Drinar replied. A stray thought here or there, a sudden burst of knowledge. But ninety percent of the time it was just…like walking over ants.

  “Thanks for the heads up,” I replied as I directed the absorption spell, whispered a silent prayer to Yither the god of fools, then fired the spell at the Illuminated. The green energy pulsed through the air, expanding like a net and tightly wrapping around Drinar, flashing brightly.

  You mean to consume me? Drinar laughed. Using a spell that I am most familiar with?

  And Drinar reacted exactly as I expected: he began to absorb the spell back. What he did not realize, though, was that I was linked to the spell. My life essence was intertwined with the magic. He would not just be stealing my magic, he would be absorbing me. It was now the moment of truth.

  Such power! Drinar gloated as he drank greedily of my spell. You placed a great deal of energy into this. Perhaps it will tip the scales in my favor.

  “Or perhaps it will tip the scales in mine,” I replied, pushing all of my life force through the connection to the spell. I could sense Drinar now, as if I were being pulled into his own essence. He was unable to stop drinking. Maybe it was the spell he was using, or maybe it was his greed.

  What is this? Drinar asked, the strange mental voice he used becoming louder in my mind. You are in here?

  “I am!” I replied, allowing him to consume as much of my life force as possible. My consciousness was beginning to flow out of my tree and my sight of the dungeon was fading. All I could see was my own trunk, yet from the outside, as if I were no longer a part of my tree. The Great Tree itself was withering, turning rotted and old, leaves dropping off of it as I was being consumed. Without my power to sustain the tree, it would die quickly and with it, the rest of my dungeon.

  No! You must leave! Drinar cried. I could sense a reversal in the flow of energy. Drinar was trying to push me back, but with my consciousness now moving closer to him, I could fight it. I focused with all of my might, pushing my energy further and further until Drinar began to writhe. My essence was harming him, tearing him apart from the inside out.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked. “Do you not wish to be joined to me?”

  You will destroy us both, he replied, our energies cannot mix like this.

  “If that is what it takes, so be it,” I said. I was beginning to see through Drinar’s many eyes, watching the stream of energy from his perspective. A million jumbled thoughts came rushing to my mind, voices and ideas that w
ere foreign both to myself and to Drinar. These must be the beings that he had consumed. They were not dead in a sense, but a part of him. Yet, there was one common emotion that all of these minds felt: despair. They were miserable and needed to be set free.

  As I took hold of Drinar’s consciousness, I began to drink deeply, pulling his own power back through the absorption channel I had created. This would give life back to my physical body and prevent it from dying before the process was over.

  You must stop, Drinar pleaded. You have proven to be the greater being. I shall do as you wish.

  “I wish to destroy you, once and for all,” I replied. I was consuming more and more of him, pulling free many of the individuals he had trapped. Drinar was growing weaker and weaker, and I…was also becoming weaker? Or was it Drinar?

  His thoughts were becoming so integrated into my mind that they seemed to be my own at first. His feelings, his memories, all of them were becoming a part of me. But everything was happening too quickly, I was starting to forget exactly who I was. I was the Great Tree, yes? Or was I Drinar? Or both? Whose body was dying?

  There were too many voices, too many words racing through my mind. It was as if I were lost in a dungeon of thought and there were no exits, just dead ends. I tried to stay focused, to keep my mind on the task at hand, but there were too many conflicting ideas rushing to me. I needed to kill the tree to survive. Or did I need to give the tree life?

  As I tried to sort through the chaos, a gentle wind began to blow across something. The leaves. I could feel my leaves! The shield had broken in the turmoil and the wind was now touching my body! This helped to draw my mind back to the forefront. I was the Great Tree, because trees had leaves. The chaos began to subside as I pulled free of the voices, shutting them out with great levels of concentration.

  I continued to pull the life force back into my body until my consciousness gradually returned to where it belonged. Drinar was still alive, but barely. My life essence had overpowered him, allowing me to tear through his defenses and seize hold of his own energies. I had drunk deeply, consuming all of his magic stores. What was left was a mere husk, a body without the power to even stand any longer.

  Drinar lay on the ground, unmoving, unblinking. He merely stared up at the sky. Yet I could sense his mind and memories still lurking inside. I had tried to bring him with me, to devour him fully, but he was unable to cross the barrier. It would have been interesting to have ingested his mind, to learn of his power.

  You have done what others could not, Drinar weakly whispered, his mental voice strained and miserable. You have taken all of my power. You have stripped me of all that I had. But you have not finished the job yet. You must kill me.

  I remained silent for a time.

  I was once a mortal being who dreamt only of seeing the stars, born and raised deep in the earth. When my master came for me, he promised that he would show me the stars. But all I saw was madness. Please, give me an undeserved kindness and send me to the afterlife. If you let me live, the magic will come back.

  “So be it,” I said, preparing a bolt of energy.

  Farewell, Great Tree. I pray that the secret you have taken does not lead you down the same path as the rest. And with that, I ended the life of Drinar, releasing what was left of mortality to take his chances in the afterlife.

  The world was safe, for now. But there was something else pressing in my mind, not just the voices of those who were seeking to be freed, but some kind of secret, some knowledge that Drinar had sent specifically to me. What was it?

  Chapter 40

  The Dungeon Below’s body was dead and gone, but its mind was echoing in my head right now, screaming with a primal rage to be set free. I had released the rest of the people trapped within me, allowing them to return to the afterlife. I did not quite know what could be done with my antagonist. Releasing it would cause it to become a spirit, Ehdrid explained to me, since created beings could not go to the afterlife.

  If the Dungeon Below were to become a spirit, it would turn into a very cruel and vengeful one. It would need a few years to absorb enough stray magic, but rest assured, I would be seeing it again. Consequently, I could also obliterate it within me, but that felt…wrong. The Dungeon Below had been created as a prison and subsequently corrupted by Drinar’s influence for thousands of years. Could it be healed of such madness?

  I carefully placed the Dungeon Below in the soul well, for a time, so that Ehdrid would be able to exorcise the corrupted energies from it. This was a long shot, to rehabilitate the creature, but I felt bad for it. It never truly had a choice; it was created to do only one thing. What if it was given free will? Would it be any better? I hoped so.

  Things were returning to normal, with the death of Drinar and the removal of the Dungeon Below. I had many tasks ahead to keep me busy following the elimination of the Illuminated Being, mainly rebuilding the structural damage that had occurred throughout my dungeon. The deep magic was working in tandem with me, anticipating my every thought and moving quickly to fix and enhance the dungeon.

  Once the goblin village was returned, my mouth opened back up and the shops could resume their activity. I was able to spend some of my time reviewing the strange memory that Drinar had planted in my mind. I wanted to access it instantly, but there were other matters distracting me in the present, such as the need to release the millions of trapped souls within me.

  I sat in silent contemplation, calling forth the idea that Drinar had transferred to me. It was a cluster of memories, but not explicitly tied to his own perception. Rather, it was memories of what he had learned when first becoming infused with deep magic. For he knew the many secrets and mysteries of deep magic, taught to him by the ancient wizard who had created him for the purpose of upending the gods and bringing about the destruction of the world.

  This was not a mere book; this was not some collection of anecdotes written by wizards who were merely guessing as to what the power of deep magic was. This memory provided to me was the definitive truth, and I sat for many hours, exploring each aspect of what there was to learn, and I was greatly surprised by what there was to know.

  Deep magic was not created. It was not the life force of the earth, nor was it a natural phenomenon. It was the blood of the Father God, Wyren, the creator of this realm. Before there was time, Wyren existed, with a dream to create a world full of mortal beings. He was a being of immense power and was easily able to pull the elements of the Yehan plane into something real, rearranging the threads of reality until he had created a world of his own.

  He gave life to many different mortals, but watched in frustration as they were inept and incapable of doing things on their own. Yet, he did not wish to directly interfere in the lives of his own creations, for he feared that he would be taking away their freedom of will. And so, Wyren pulled shards from his own body, creating various lesser gods that would be given command over different domains to guide the mortals.

  The mortals would have the freedom to worship and follow these servitor gods in exchange for knowledge and power over the world itself. And for a great time, there was prosperity for all. Yet, while Wyren allowed the mortals to live as they pleased, the gods were given strict rules, to prevent them from abusing their power. They could not war with one another, steal domains from each other or draw blood. Wyren would not hesitate to put a stop to petty bickering or violence between gods.

  And this drove many of the gods to grow hateful towards Wyren. Why should he have such power over all? Why should he love the mortals so much, but treat them as nothing more than helpers? Alone, a god was weak, but together they were formidable. Wyren had given up large parts of himself to empower these deities, but if they fought him as one, they would have the power to overcome him. And that is just what they did.

  The first gods’ war was not god against god, but the created against their creator. The jealous and fiendish gods, thinking only of the power they craved, banded together and
pierced Wyren’s body with a great spear, constructed using the shards that he himself had offered them. This blow would kill him, draining him of his life’s blood.

  But while Wyren would die, his blood would stay behind, seep into the earth, falling deeper and deeper into the land, to be forgotten by the gods who now had the freedom to fight with one another for what power remained. More wars would break out and gods would rise and fall in great chaos. Mortals came to fear the gods for their whims were cruel and they all desired worship.

  But while battles raged above the earth, some mortal men began to focus on mining deep into the land, in the hopes of finding gold and precious metals. It would be in one of these mines where Wyren’s blood would be found, yet it was not like the blood of mortals. It changed the land it touched, allowing plants to grow where no light was found, and when handled, it soaked into the bodies of man.

  This was the discovery of deep magic, as the humans called it, for it was found in the mines. At first, the magic was a simple trick, a toy used to make others laugh at the ability to produce a bit of fire from the finger, or to move a chair a few feet. But Wyren’s blood remembered the great betrayal. It remembered everything. It whispered secrets to those who had absorbed it, teaching them how to use it for more and more powerful effects.

  Yet, Wyren’s death had been traumatic. To be destroyed by one’s own creations, to be betrayed so deeply by the beings you gave life to, twisted the magic he bled out. It was corrupting, leading wizards only to become focused on bringing revenge against the divine beings. Over time, the corruption would grow worse and worse. The wizards, driven mad, would hide their secrets, unaware that within them, the impulse to destroy the gods came not from their own jealousies, but from Wyren’s rage at them.

  This was the great truth of why Wyren’s Gift could destroy the gods. For deep magic was the tool of creation, used by Wyren when he was alive to build, used in his death to destroy. By the time the gods had learned of this magic’s existence, the Illuminated had been created and the great time of darkness had begun in the land. The Ancient Wizards would reign and rule, insane and cruel, each affected by the deep magic in a different way. Yet the gods could not fight back against the power that had been used in their own creation.