Tree Guardian

by Andrew Karevik

  The rest of the story was simple enough. A group of deep wizards had banded together to fight the Illuminated, insulated from madness by removing their brains with the heart in a jar spell, which allowed them to control the magic without being consumed by it. Free from this influence, they were able to defeat the Illuminated, seal them away, consume all deep magic that was left and place it in a vault on behalf of the gods. And what was their reward for such a feat? To end the great war, to save the gods and bring back normalcy? Godhood.

  These mortals were worshipped so much so by their own kind that they were elevated to replace the gods who had died in such a struggle. These mortals, knowing that the secret must be preserved, spread lies about the gods using the seals to trap the creatures away. A weaker magic was discovered, residue of the act of creation, but it was harmless compared to what had once been. And the world moved on.

  I pondered this story for quite some time. I had stolen all of the deep magic from the vault and successfully consumed it for my own use. Originally, I had been intending to return it to the vault once I was finished, but all of my attempts to pull the magic away did not work. Wyren’s Gift was firmly attached to me and refused to leave. The only reason I was still sane was due to my inadvertent replication of a prior method of success. I had something quite dangerous trapped within me and it was obedient to my commands—for now.

  Yet, my powers were greatly increased. Having control of such magic would give me an unbelievable advantage when fighting against the Invasion. Provided the side effects of deep magic wouldn’t kill me by then. I was still in unexplored territory here, unsure of what would happen if I continued to be exposed to it. Still…the tools of creation were in my possession. And in a way, I would be carrying on Wyren’s work, for I would be the one who would stop all of his reality from being annihilated. I just needed to know if this would eventually kill me.

  Chapter 41

  I continued to study the deep magic as well as the memories that Drinar had given to me. From what I could tell, the Illuminated beings were filled with so much of this magic that they were able to reproduce it within themselves. This came from prolonged exposure, when combined with a certain spell. I did not have access to this spell, however, for Drinar had not been the one to cast it. The wizard who had created him would have made this spell, but he was long dead. I thought of Muiroc and wondered if he had such a power. He was aware of what was coming, perhaps I could look to him for aid.

  As I continued to work, there came a great trumpeting sound from above, followed by the manifestation of a woman wearing a wreath and carrying a horn. She was adorned in violet robes and seemed to move as if she were composed of the wind itself.

  “World Tree!” she cried, unfurling a long scroll that shone with the words of the gods. “You have committed a great crime against the gods of Yehan and, as such, you are to be brought up on charges.”

  “Charges?” I repeated, for a moment unsure of what she meant. Then I realized what she was talking about. Of course the gods would be pissed at me. I had broken into their secret vault, stolen the one thing that was able to kill them and then sort of accidentally unleashed an Illuminated.

  “Indeed! Out of respect for your great status, you are being summoned to arrive on your own terms, to the Courts of the Forlorn. You must appear within the week or arbiters will be dispatched to retrieve you.”

  Respect for my status? This was a clever euphuism for “fear of my newfound magic.” But I understood their position. I would need to speak to them, to smooth over what I had done and to assure them that there would be no harm brought to them. I knew that Rignus and the Mistmother would speak on my behalf. The gods were reasonable enough to understand my position. At least, so I would hope.

  “Take me there then,” I replied, detaching my consciousness from my tree. Ever since I had received the infusion of deep magic, I found it easy to move myself around, yet still access the great power I possessed. If the gods were going to try to do anything to me, I would be able to fight back with ease.

  The messenger nodded and heralded my energies to a great room that mimicked the mortals’ courts. Rignus sat atop a bench, to preside over the case, and a great many of the gods were sitting in a circle surrounding a central podium where the perpetrator was supposed to stand. There were many powerful arbiters, creatures composed of flame and godspells who were meant to enforce the rules of the court presiding.

  Yet, these arbiters would have trouble bringing pain to a being who was only present in consciousness. My body was far away, safe and sound. If there was anyone who was unsafe right now, it was the gods.

  “The Great Tree has arrived!” the messenger called out for all to hear.

  “I don’t see anything!” Yither shouted from his ceremonial position, chained to the ceiling above the court bench.

  “I am here,” I said, speaking out loud.

  “Excellent,” Rignus said, banging his gavel. “Then we shall begin this discussion immediately. I would like for you all to take notice that the World Tree is not a god and, as such, will not be afforded any of the rights that are extended to the gods. Our summoning of him before pronouncing judgment is out of courtesy for the services he has done for us in the past.”

  No doubt, Lord Rignus was just doing his job, but there was something about his tone that I found grating. He had been an ally to me back when I needed him most, but now? He seemed to have no cares whatsoever. Then again, he was the judge. He needed to remain neutral.

  “So what is this then?” I asked. “A court case or a sentencing?”

  Rignus pointed to the Greater Four Gods who were sitting in their own special section. There was Turm, the Mistmother, Emerhilk and Eflora the Treeblood. Their arms were all crossed and none of them seemed too pleased with me.

  “These four shall question you as they please and then they will pronounce judgment as they see fit,” Rignus said. “This is not a legal trial for you are not a god.”

  “Ask what you will then,” I said.

  Turm was first to speak. The dwarven man with a steaming beard of brass seemed furious. “So we agree to let you hold Izguril, aid you in fighting him off, and you repay us all by breaking into the most sacred of vaults and then awakening a godkiller? Are you daft? Have you gotten some kind of tree disease that makes your brain rot away?”

  “What Turm is meaning to ask,” Emerhilk interjected, “is what was your motive in stealing from our vault?”

  This was all a big show, that much I knew. The flaming arbiters, the big scary looking court room. The gods were trying to show me that they were a force to be reckoned with. But I knew what they were thinking about in the backs of their mind: the power that I now controlled. Were they fully aware of what I could do with it? Or were they merely hoping that they had interceded before I gained true control of the deep magic?

  “Simply put, dear friends,” I said, putting an emphasis on the last word, “it is that I was facing great peril. There was a dungeon beneath me, holding the body of an Illuminated named Drinar.” I paused for a moment to watch Eflora visibly shudder. She was a tiny little pixie and began fluttering about at the mention of the name.

  “So we know,” Emerhilk said. “But you took property that does not belong to you, to solve a problem that we believe you were the cause of. You must persuade us otherwise, or we will be forced to pronounce a great and most cruel judgment against you.”

  “Must I?” I asked, feeling a bit heated. I had been working extremely hard, living each day an hour at a time so that I could save this universe, these wretched gods included. I had been giving everything and then more so that I could protect Yehan and now I was being chided as if I were a kid? “Because you do not seem to understand the situation here. You have called me in, to scold me as if I were a child who took a cookie from a jar, but rest assured, I did not take a sweet treat. I took the most powerful magic in reality and I consumed every last bit of it.”

&n
bsp; There was a murmur throughout the entire room. All of the gods were aghast at my confession, all except for Yither, who was most likely aware of my predicament due to the prayers I had been sending him.

  “I told you!” Yither shouted, laughing hysterically as he tried to get out of his chains. “But you all told me that I was a liar!”

  Turm placed his hands on his face and let out a deep sigh, releasing more steam from his beard. “Lad, you realize what you’ve done?”

  I was unsure of what he meant, but I realized something. If the gods had not known that I drank of the deep magic, they must not be able to sense its presence within mortals. It was a blind spot to them. “I did what I needed to do in order to save Yehan from the Illuminated,” I replied.

  “You’ve sentenced yourself to a most terrible death,” Eflora said, fluttering behind the two fighter gods. “For we cannot allow deep magic to escape into the world again.”

  “There are things you ignore,” the Mistmother said, “great and terrible secrets about this magic. It conspires against us, it rages without end.”

  “But if you have been bound to it,” Emerhilk said, “then it will not leave until your life force is gone. And we must reseal the vault, to prevent mortals from gaining hold of such a thing.”

  “And how will you propose to kill me?” I asked. “Knowing that I have the blood of your father beating within me? Knowing that I alone hold the very thing that can slay you all?”

  A deathly silence fell across the entire courtroom. Even Rignus lowered his head in shame.

  “Those gods were not us,” Turm said. “They were petty and jealous, cruel and uncaring. There have been many generations of gods before this one. We bear no responsibility for what was done.”

  “Yet you hide it all the same from the mortals,” I said. No one replied to me, not for a few minutes. Finally, the Mistmother spoke, her skin slowly turning translucent for a moment before snapping back into view.

  “The past stays where it is, but we must steward the future. The power that you hold is too great. It shall wrest free of your control one day, and when it does, there will be a second reign of terror. There will be another great war.”

  “And I am fine with that. The affairs of you gods means little to me,” I said. “For all that I have observed about you is that you are indeed petty and jealous. Perhaps not as bad as your predecessors, but still, enough to make me unconcerned to your fates. But let it be known here that I do not hold this great power so that I may elevate myself. I do not seek godhood, or status, or power for power’s sake. I am holding onto the deep magic so that I may deliver your world from true destruction at the hands of the coming Invaders.”

  “Don’t tell me you buy into the Mistmother’s malarkey about the upcoming apocalypse,” Turm said. “It’s just inane gibberish from an old woman who somehow managed to sneak into the Greater Five, err Four.”

  “I am not interested in trying to convince you all of any such threat,” I said. “I am merely letting you know that I have no intention of returning the magic, or of letting you kill me. I have more important things to worry about than some silly trial.”

  Emerhilk stood to his feet and placed a hand on the longsword at his side. “There are powerful divine magics that you do not wish to test. You may have the power of deep magic in your possession, but united, we gods are quite the force to be reckoned with.”

  “Which is why you were all cowering in fear, content to allow the Illuminated to destroy whatever it pleased while you worked on some kind of clever plan,” I retorted. “I am finished talking about this. If you wish to cut me down, I shall slay you and consume your essence, all of it.”

  Emerhilk narrowed his good eye and frowned. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

  “Getting into fights with powerful entities who simply won’t listen to reason?” I asked. “This has become a regular occurrence for me. If you cannot accept that I am trying to save Yehan, then feel free to throw your life away. But know that it won’t be in vain, for upon consuming your power, I will use it to protect the realm. Let that be the last thought that comforts you before you are obliterated.”

  And with that, I withdrew my presence, leaving the gods to discuss exactly what they would do about me. I didn’t much care of what their deliberation would be. If they came after me, I would destroy every last one of them. I would not let anyone threaten Yehan’s people, least of all the gods.

  Chapter 42

  I returned to my body and began to immediately prepare for an attack. I crafted a few dozen attack spells, all at once. This was an easy enough task for me and it took barely any effort. The magic responded to my whim and my desires, knowing exactly that I wanted to kill the gods with these spells. There was almost a…glee to the magic, as if it were joyous at my machinations. This was disturbing, but fortunately, while I could sense the pleasure the magic was taking in this creation, it had no effect on my sanity. I would be perfectly fine, for now.

  Would they really attack me? I had no idea. They had attempted to bully me, to make a big show, but at the end of the day, the gods weren’t nearly as unified as they would have me believe. Whenever a greater god was slain, several other gods would gain more power. It would be beneficial to simply abandon ones comrades in the heat of battle. If this were the case, then no one would go to fight, worried that the others may betray them at any moment.

  Perhaps the Mistmother would get them to see reason. It was interesting, to hear that the others did not take her warnings about the end of the world very seriously. Was it simply denial? A fear of what was to come? Or had she made proclamations like this before, only for them not to come true? But I had seen the eggs myself, I had observed the stories told by my scouts. Even Muiroc, as insane and dangerous as he was, knew that this Ragnarök was coming. Just because Turm was confident that he would win didn’t mean the prophecy was a lie.

  “Ehdrid,” I whispered to the shaman who was busy cleaning up his humble hut that had been thoroughly looted by his trickster counterpart. “You must prepare to lead an evacuation again.”

  The goblin chief sighed at that. “Don’t tell me that you’ve already gotten in trouble once more.”

  “The gods might be launching an all-out assault on me,” I replied.

  “Oh is that all?” Ehdrid asked as he climbed into his bed. “I’ve just gotten the people calmed down. I’ll lead an evacuation after my nap.”

  “This is serious,” I said. “They may be coming at any minute.”

  Ehdrid mumbled something about his exhaustion, but a sudden divine presence distracted me. It was Gannix, standing alone outside in the clearing. I shifted my attention over to him.

  “And so you stand alone to face me?” I bellowed.

  “Most amusing,” Gannix said. “They voted that I be the one to deliver the message, as you were least likely to kill me.” He began coughing for a moment, releasing small vapors of green mist from the lungs that he held.

  “So there will be peace?” I asked, trying to hide the relief in my voice. The last thing I wanted was to get into an actual conflict with the gods. I had talked tough enough, but killing gods would bring a great deal of pain to the world. It was wholly unnecessary.

  “For now,” Gannix said. “The discussion was rather heated, but in the end, we all agreed that you have been generally kind to this world. We do not suspect that you would intentionally bring any harm to the gods. And so, you may keep the deep magic. But I have been instructed to warn you as such. If you should use this power to hurt a single god, be they friend or foe to you, we will take it as a sign that you mean to hurt us all. And we shall respond in kind.”

  “Fair enough, I replied. “But between you and me, how scared were they?”

  Gannix chuckled a little at that question. “They were not lying about a new generation of gods unconnected to the past. They have no experience with such things, and lack of experience leads to such wild imag
inations.”

  “I must thank you friend, for aiding me in this time,” I said. “You have been a loyal ally in all of this.”

  “I do what must be done in order to preserve balance,” Gannix replied. “Anytime I inspect the impact of your death, for some reason I see the number of lives lost spiral out of control to a degree I have not seen before. And…among those deaths, I see the gods fall too.”

  “So you believe the Mistmother about the end of the world?”

  “She has been wrong every time before,” Gannix said. “But I believe that is because she was able to find the right person to put an end to it. Let us hope that she is wrong this time too, my friend. Let us hope she is wrong.”

  Epilogue

  There can be no rest for me. I had long forgotten what the urge to sit back and enjoy the peace and silence of the summer nights felt like, for every waking moment was filled with preparations for the future that is to come. I had become obsessed with growing in power, doing everything possible to make my dungeon attractive to adventurers from all over the world. The results of such efforts were a resounding success. Even today, after all that went down with the Dungeon Below, the population of the dungeon continues to climb. New adventurers arrive week after week, looking for the treasures left behind by the mad wizard Fernus.

  With the destruction of the Dungeon Below, the village rests easy. The goblin children sit at the feet of a king, now humbled, who teaches them of the great and noble sciences. He bears many scars from his attempts at being firm and now speaks with soft words and an encouraging heart. And these children are learning a great deal of how to conduct themselves in a civilized world that hates them. They learn to read and write, to study the philosophies of many great rulers and leaders. Some of them even have an affinity for magic, taking up sorcery from what books they have. Soon, they will have their first graduation and these goblins will change Ehdridton forever, hopefully for the better.