by Robert Spina
The smaller trees growing here seem to have been chewed from the top down. They are hollow and only about two to three feet wide at the base, growing more slender to the top. The forest and the Treestriders have a most fascinating relationship as their connection to each other continues to grow and modify. The smaller trees growing here have all been preened. When a Creenberk tree grows past six feet and reaches a little more than eight feet, the forest is saying, “We need an adult Treestrider,” and it wilts from the top. It rolls from four points down the tree for two to three feet, exposing a succulent, fleshy delight for the midsized Treestriders that they can’t resist.
Again the duel begins because it’s first come, first served. The battles among the young adults are much more brutal and violent. When the rich food exposes itself, allowing for a Treestrider to reach adulthood, they charge with fury, fighting all rivals using their pointed forearms to stab each other; and then the biggest, strongest usually survive, perpetuating the strongest of their species. When two Treestriders have locked each other with their barbed arms, they begin to swing each other into trees, trying to daze and discombobulate their opponent. This is always a duel to the death, and the death blow is a bite just below the head on the very short, very strong neck of the Treestrider.
The battles are fast and furious because only two fight at a time, but there may be dozens of fighting Treestriders, and the first one to the life-transforming flesh of the Creenberk tree advances to adulthood. Like the young Treestriders, the life span is limited. The young can live for up to three years, but the young adults can live up to five years, giving plenty of time to advance to adulthood, so you would think. In contrast to the huge numbers of young Treestriders, very few ever make it to the second stage of life, and even fewer yet make it to adulthood.
In reality, the majority of Treestrider fatalities come from their own kind—whether it be killed by one of its own fighting for the sap high up in the trees or it be killed in combat for the flesh of the Creenberk tree. When the Treestriders duel one another for the right to become an adult, there is always a fatality with rare exception. The Erken trees exuding sap may only allow for a couple of dozen Treestriders to advance to young adults in a given year, and the Creenberk trees may only allow for six to a dozen adults to emerge each year. You may think this is a very small number and much too small for the Treestriders to maintain a viable population, but the forest has amazing harmony, and the balance between tree and Treestrider always maintains itself. Should a disaster happen to either Erken tree or Creenberk tree, the amount of life-giving sap and flesh will be reduced, allowing for less of the Treestriders. Should a disaster happen to the Treestriders, like what is happening now, the feeding habits of the Treestriders will lessen on the trees, and they will produce more sap and/or flesh needed to increase the number of Treestriders to its natural healthy state. This is one of the most incredible symbiotic relationships in all the forests of all the realms, at least one of the great ones for study.
The first Treestrider that reaches the flesh and begins to feed starts an amazing chain reaction. First is that all the fighting Treestriders locked in combat continue until a victor is achieved. No other combats begin, and all the Treestriders submit to the victor by allowing it to begin its transformation to adulthood. The Treestriders in the vicinity actually stand guard and protect the growing individual because this is a very vulnerable time for them, and they would be eaten by predators of the forest without protection. This is how the Treestriders continue their race. The victor consumes the flesh, which intoxicates it and creates a chemical reaction in the Treestrider. The hollow tree at this time is full of rich, creamy sap that is exposed when the Treestrider consumes the flesh at the top of the tree, which looks like a two-and-a-half-foot banana. Then the Treestrider inserts a proboscis from its mouth, sucking up the rich sap, intoxicating it further, and it loses its sight and stumbles around as its body chemically alters and it falls in a drunken, indefensible sleep. Many dozen Treestriders form a dome-like circle around this individual and buzz their wings continuously as a warning for all species to stay away.
The infected Treestrider begins to ooze a slimy discharge from the creases in its body, breaking down the exterior of its body. It begins to molt over and over, getting slimier and slimier, and continues this process for a month, getting larger and larger by the day. The smell of the molting Treestrider attracts predators from all around the forest, and the protecting Treestriders fend them off fiercely. Many more Treestriders come to help protect the growing individual over the next month to give rest and replace those that may die in protecting the molting individual. Nothing is allowed near this individual, with the exception of a small fly called a Krumsel fly. These flies feed on the slime of the molting Treestrider and, after feeding, venture out to the outlying forest to become the next generation of young Treestrider.
Over the next month, as the Treestrider molts, it starts to take on its adult form, and wow, what a transformation this is. The Treestrider molts every day and grows three to five inches every day, molting and leaving the last shell to the side of its growing body to feed hundreds and thousands of Krumsel flies. The growing Treestrider loses its wings, and the abdomen splits, becoming legs, and a new abdomen forms. Arms start to grow from its sides, and a much larger head of the same shape and appearance grows. As the Treestrider reaches the end of its molting stage, it emerges from its last shell, around ten feet in length. Its legs are five-foot poles with no knee or ankle, just a pole ending in a sharp point. The same is true for its arms, just poles ending in sharp points. The adult Treestrider is still very vulnerable and not completely formed yet.
Over the next week, there are bony discs that grow between the legs and abdomen; they grow between the arms and abdomen, like the spine of a human, allowing the arms and legs motion forward and backward—a very crude means of locomotion and not a great range of motion for its arms but is all it needs. Its head and jaws are massive and powerful. The arms and legs are used for nothing more than jumping from tree to tree, stabbing the tree and holding still, and of course, impaling its prey. The adult Treestrider spends most of its time stuck to trees, extremely well camouflaged; and when a large prey animal walks underneath it, the Treestrider drops down silently, impaling its prey, which usually dies quickly. The Treestrider then consumes the prey by biting off chunks of flesh and swallowing them whole.
As with the younger Treestriders, the adult Treestriders attack any intruders to the forest with the exception of the Erkensharie elves, and Cloakenstrike has just ventured under one of these most formidable creatures. Cloakenstrike is well aware of the danger imposed by the adult Treestriders and is flying as fast as he can through the trees, sword in hand. The Treestrider is not able to just fall on Cloakenstrike since he is moving so fast, and it starts to pursue him. This is where the real amazing locomotion of the adult Treestrider is seen. The front portions of its arms are actually harpoons that it shoots into nearby trees, and the end of the harpoon has barbs that extend into the tree, giving a strong hold on the tree. The harpoon is attached to the arm of the Treestrider by a thick, strong tendon, and the Treestrider swings like Tarzan through the trees with amazing efficiency.
Cloakenstrike is only alerted to the presence of the pursuing Treestrider by the sound of the harpoon striking the tree. As the Treestrider reaches the end of its swing, the barbs retract back into the tip of the harpoon, and the tendon pulls the harpoon back into place on its arm, and it is free to swing on from its other arm. Cloakenstrike hears the harpoon strike the tree and turns to face his pursuer and flies right for the tendon connecting the harpoon to its arm. He slices at the tendon, severing it, sending the Treestrider falling; and of course, it launches its other harpoon into a close-by tree, which is severed at the tendon by Cloakenstrike’s well-crafted and deadly blade. The Treestrider falls to the ground, its legs sticking deep in the earth, and this will be its final resting place. The loss of its harpoons will not kill the
Treestrider; however, stuck in the earth, it has no means to escape. Its legs only move forward and backward, and its harpoons have been lost. It will die of starvation, or more likely a predator will come by and feed on the defenseless Treestrider. Cloakenstrike’s execution of magic and plan is nearly flawless, and he gains confidence, wisdom, and satisfaction as he slices his way easily through tens of adult Treestriders on his way to the stronghold of Erkensharie, the resting place of the Octagemerwell.
CHAPTER 9
The Fate of Elven Magic
The ruler of Erkensharie, King Estine, is walking into a large hall where Shandorn is looking into a well of water. This is a magnificent hall, not in its size, but that all the walls are a light-brown-colored wood. The hall seems to have been carved out of a single tree. The well Shandorn is looking into is made of stone mortared together and rises three feet from the wooden floor. The walls are empty of pictures or objects, but the smooth wooden walls are very beautiful, showing off the unique grain of this ancient tree. There is one starlight gem hanging from the center of the ceiling, giving off a perfect soft glow illuminating the room.
“Shandorn, what do you see?”
“There is nothing there, King Estine. The forest is free of Tronglebire and no sign off them.”
“What of the burning?”
“Some of the Vinegrowers have been incinerated by a large humanoid figure, and it came up and over our wall outside the front gate. This is a magic user, King Estine—a very powerful one, a sly one.”
“Can you track him?”
“Yes, he is on his way here. He has passed the Treestriders and is outside our home.”
“What is his intent?”
“Theft.”
“So this magic user is after the Octagemerwell. He is human?”
“Yes. This man approached through our lands, avoiding detection of all our kind and facing all the Treestriders from young to adult, instead of just approaching by air and avoiding that risk altogether.”
“Yes, maybe he felt this was less challenging than facing the Terrahawks.”
“No, he is making a statement. He wants us to know he is powerful, smart, and able.”
“Why would he do that, Shandorn? The whole point of theft is to be in and out unnoticed. Is this an assault on us? Is there maybe a deeper, more sinister plan at work here than just theft?”
“I do not know, but common sense tells me a magical power this capable wishes to further its magical knowledge, and the Octagemerwell is the greatest prize and will afford this magic a much more powerful balance.”
“Yes, but an outsider not of our magical order cannot call upon the power of the Octagemerwell. It will be useless to him. Call upon Tunull and Whenshade, you must protect us from this intrusion. I will have the guard tripled, and full alert will be in place until you have dealt with this situation.” King Estine leaves the hall.
Cloakenstrike flies to the heart of the Erkensharie homeland and comes to an unbelievably large tree. This tree is twenty-five yards across a colossal tree and the oldest Erken tree alive. The Erkensharie elves have complete knowledge of the Erken trees and have learned how to burrow and live in them, benefiting the trees. This tree is the king’s home; however, the entrance is unknown to Cloakenstrike, and surely there are unseen guards here that Cloakenstrike must be wary of. And sure enough, an arrow strikes his left shoulder. The gelatin shield is still in place around Cloakenstrike and absorbs much of the arrow’s force, but the arrow is sharp and true. The four-sided broad head penetrates his left shoulder. He chants a spell and turns invisible as another arrow strikes him just above his belly button, causing another painful wound. Cloakenstrike levitates high up and off a few trees to remove the arrows and heal himself magically. He obviously is a master of healing magic and heals himself quickly.
The elves are masters of camouflage, and he cannot detect their whereabouts right off. As far as his protective shield, which glows green when struck by anything made of wood. It was designed to protect him from the Treestriders. The Treestriders are made of an amazing combination of insect and wood. The shield Cloakenstrike created for himself protects him from all forms of wood, and the arrow being made of wood allowed for his shield to activate again—genius on his part. The elven arrows are deadly and strike with great force. Even though Cloakenstrike’s shield is now many feet thick, the sharp arrows are able to slice through, penetrating Cloakenstrike’s body, so he must stay alert to avoid the not deadly but painful arrows. The arrows penetrating Cloakenstrike’s body is actually a good thing and something he has planned for, because he needs to imbue himself with the elves’ essence, and even though this does not help him magically, it does give him tactical insight to their spiritual being, and every little bit helps.
Cloakenstrike slowly floats through the trees, looking for his adversaries, and good intentions are not on his mind. The arrows striking him were not necessary, but something he has planned, for he knew he had to draw the elves out, and they are very agile and able. He now needs to locate one so he can steal its life force—a tricky task indeed.
Cloakenstrike floats through the trees with his sword sheathed and hanging from his left hip, and finally he spots an elf stuck to the side of a tree. The elves are amazing; they have soft padded shoes with metal claws on the bottom that stick into the smooth, branchless trees, and they wear special gloves with claws in them as well that retract when not in use so they have full functionality of their fingers. The elves are amazingly nimble and are able to stand vertically on the trees without the use of their hands, only connected to the trees by their feet, but they use their hands when resting or, in this case, searching for an intruder. Their clothing is perfectly colored to match the light-brown color of the smooth trees, and they are remarkably camouflaged.
Nevertheless, Cloakenstrike spots the elf that struck him with two arrows, and unfortunately, it cannot see the invisible magic user closing in on him. Cloakenstrike slowly silently draws his sword and halts about fifteen feet from the elf. He wants to make a quick immobilizing death strike on the elf by stabbing it through its spine and sticking it to the tree as he absorbs its life force, but its bow is slung over its back, making his planned attack a little tricky. He studies the elf and does not want to waste time. He flies like Superman, sword pointed at its target, and makes an accurate strike, severing the elf’s spine, immobilizing it. He quickly wraps his right hand over its mouth, muffling any cries for help. Cloakenstrike chants a powerful spell draining the elf’s essence and ending its life painlessly. This is incredibly important for Cloakenstrike because now he is imbued with elven essence and knowledge. This does not allow him the knowledge he needs to access elven magic and the use of the Octagemerwell. For that, he will need to absorb the life force of an elven magic user, a more advanced one, and there are only three that he knows of that will give him the knowledge he needs in this matter.
Cloakenstrike has studied well and knows he needs either Shandorn, Tunull, or Whenshade to gain the access he needs to harness the magical knowledge of the Octagemerwell, a nearly impossible feat, but Cloakenstrike is on the path and has planned this quest for hundreds of years. Cloakenstrike is one of the great magic users in all the realms but seeks all power and has learned how to steal the life force of those he extinguishes. Stealing a life force is like getting a heart transplant. He can see some images from the life he has stolen, but they are like dreams. He doesn’t know if they are real. More importantly, he has the cravings of the life essence he has stolen, which are like clues into the life they had. The knowledge gained from a life essence are things that are naturally thought about or instinctively done, which confuses the host unless well trained and supremely disciplined, which Cloakenstrike is. He tries not to steal too many life forces at a time, because the more he steals, the more difficult it is to control all the cravings and decipher all the strange images.
Cloakenstrike has planned to steal up to five life forces before attempting his magic against on
e of the three master mages of Erkensharie. They are powerful indeed and may very well be able to defeat Cloakenstrike if he does not execute his plan perfectly. It is very hard to steal the life force of a master magic user of any school, and without the essence of at least one Erkensharie elf, Cloakenstrike may not be strong enough to steal the life force of one of the master mages. A lot of what is going on here is Cloakenstrike seeking adventure and wanting to become one of the greatest magic users in all the realms. With the Octagemerwell, he will be a true master, and very little will stand in his way. He is well ahead of the forces, unaware of a true master executing a flawless plan and is very close to his goal of owning and possessing knowledge of all elven magic.
He concentrates, hoping some sort of image or clue will come to him, gaining him entrance to King Estine’s home, but nothing comes to him. He very cautiously floats around the massive tree, looking for another victim, and knows time is against him, because surely, by now the elven mages are alerted to danger, and their magic is strong and secretive. He wants access to the king’s home as soon as possible to avoid a confrontation with the elven magic users before he gains entrance into the Erkensharie stronghold. He finds another victim and steals his life force, much like he did the first, and the image he has needed comes to him. The entrance, a little surprising, is through the ground. The inside of the tree is burrowed, but the outside is completely intact.
Cloakenstrike lowers to the ground and starts to walk around the tree. He quickly realizes this is not such a good idea since the grass is tall and thick, nearly knee high, and the insects are not thwarted by his shield. The Treestrider Absorption Pendant does not protect him from the annoying biting insects attracted to his warm body, and his invisibility does not help either since the insects are attracted to warmth and scent. He sure must feel very warm and smell just yummy, because the insects are all over him very quickly. He simply floats up a yard in the air and continues his search.