by SJ Fleming
“No, no!” Willow shook her head. “I like it, I’m just...trying to figure out how you did it!”
“Oh, do you remember me saying this ‘Yggdrasil’ was atop ruins of a city?”
“Yes…?” Willow replied, not entirely sure where Suzy was going with this.
“We are currently in the lower levels, and while most of the city has either completely decayed or has been overgrown, many cavities exist where the Yggdrasil simply grew around the building. In this case, it had grown around a hardware and home supply store. Inside were many piles of sheet metal. It was a mere matter of transporting them after that.”
“I see.” Willow looked inside, and poked a mushroom slice. It was dry enough. She turned around and sat down on the stool, wiping off the excess water on the top.
“So... you did all that in the rain?”
“Yes! I will admit it took some time to dry myself off, but I feel it was worth it! Besides, I found multiple tools useful to my maintenance, alongside additional batteries. I have no idea if they are still usable or not, but I suppose I shall find out! So, what are you going to do today, Willow? Might I aid you?”
Willow shook her head. “I’m not doing much. Just finishing up the mushroom thing then going back up.”
“I... I see,” Suzy nodded. “I shall be near should you need help.” There was a hint of sadness in Suzy’s voice. Subtle, barely there behind the metallic scraping and distortion. But it was there. Willow paused for a moment.
Willow preoccupied herself with hacking away at the wall, chipping off pieces of wood with the adze. Her mind wandered, thinking about Suzy and the Stamen and if she could ever bring her up to see her home. Suzy wanted to, after all. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if the people there saw her.
But...it could be the end of Suzy. She had no idea how the others would react.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She knew damn well how the Woundmender would react. Most likely with frothing rage. The others, though, those were the wildcards she didn’t know about. Maybe the Treesinger would be more...more sympathetic towards the lost relic of a bygone era. Maybe the Youngguide would want an example of living history. Maybe...maybe she could reason Suzy’s way into the Stamen, and out of this cold, dank, undergrowth.
But if Suzy got hurt...by the spirits past and present, if Suzy got hurt, she’d never forgive herself. Willow felt stuck. Nothing she could do felt like the ‘right’ option. Bringing Suzy up could hurt her, leaving her down here just felt cruel, and there wasn’t a third option, no way to have her cake and eat it too.
Did she need the chips? She looked down at the pile. Dried was good enough. This was just extra effort, extra time that she was taking for…for…
For no real reason, she realized. And yet she kept on working away. More time to think, to process everything. Her muscles hurt, her body strained, her mind raced, and still she kept working. This entire situation felt halfway between surreal and exciting. She felt light, almost floating. The work kept her grounded, connected to reality enough to not get lost in her thoughts.
Soon enough, Willow had a large pile of green wood chips. She gathered them up and went back to the drying racks. Suzy had kept herself busy by tending to the fire, keeping it alive, low, and waiting for Willow.
As the mushrooms were being smoked, Willow sat down beside Suzy. She finally asked the question that had been on her mind for so long.
“Why...do you want to help me so much? Are you trying...are you trying to incur some sort of debt or do you want some big favour in return or what?”
“Excuse me?” Suzy cocked her head. “I...do not understand. I help because I help. No ulterior motive.”
“I... I see.” Willow felt sick, her stomach twisting inside-out. She could feel Suzy’s eyes on her. Staring with eyes that glowed in the dark, the light glowing in Willow’s mind. She had no right to ask that question, no right to inquire as to Suzy’s true motivations. It... she was just curious. Trying to understand Suzy, what type of life she led, what she was.
“What makes you think that?”
“Well,” Willow swallowed. It felt like spikes crawled down her throat, pierced her tongue. Forcing the words from her mouth hurt. Like coughing up broken glass. “That’s...what’s expected. You do something, you give something, and you do or get something in return. I go down into the Undergrowth to get things people want, and then in turn…”
“I see!” Suzy said, cutting Willow off. She didn’t sound offended. In fact, it sounded as if she didn't even register Willow’s faux pas as such. “That is interesting! Very different from how my world operated. We used representations of value in trade, backed by the local government. Maybe it would have been better if we used favours instead. More social that way.”
“I... yeah, maybe?” Willow said, not entirely understanding what Suzy meant by things like ‘backed by the local government.’ She relaxed a little, turning back to face Suzy. She was smiling. Barely, sure, but smiling nonetheless.
As she relaxed and realized that Suzy did not, in fact, take offense, Willow decided to ask another question.
“So, I’ve never seen something made of ceramic that can move like you do. Is that some sort of technology the Polluted Ones had?”
“Ceramic? What part of me do you think is made of ceramic?” Suzy said, in a mixture of disbelief and amusement.
Willow tapped her own cheek awkwardly.
“That...is not ceramic. That is a polymer compound. My skeleton is metal, my face is stretchy polymer, and my casing’s plastic. Nothing ceramic about me at all.” She extended her arm out for Willow to touch. “Does this feel like ceramic?”
It didn't. It had much more give, and was a lot smoother. It was almost...bouncy, really? It was unlike anything Willow had ever touched. Suzy was smiling proudly, practically gloating over her own construction. Which, Willow thought, was a perfectly fine thing to do. Suzy was beautiful, a work of art from the old age.
“I am guessing your people do not have much in terms of mechanical technology, do they?” Suzy muttered. “I am sorry, if you do not understand terminology I use, let me know.”
“I... we do have some technology, that the Forebearers left for us or created for us. Like…” she patted her side, and once she realized her pack wasn’t there, she sighed. “There are plants that...do things. Weapons, tools, things we grow.”
“Fascinating! I would love to see an example of one!” Suzy said.
“I have one in my pack,” Willow said. “It’s a springseed jezail.”
“How does it work?”
“I don’t know, you’d need to ask one of the Treesingers about that. All I know is that it works. I put one of its seeds in the back, and then it can throw it forwards. I keep it just in case I come across a predator or something.”
Suzy blinked. “Predators? I have not seen any predators around here.”
Willow chuckled. “Yeah, they’re not exactly common, but I’ve seen a few grindgrubs before. They’re not pleasant.”
“I... see. I have never heard of these ‘grindgrubs.’ However, I will trust you on the matter and prepare self-defence if need be!” Suzy declared rather confidently. Willow just smiled, not sure if she should tell Suzy about the other things down here. Then again, they weren’t nearly deep enough in the Undergrowth to encounter them. Willow didn’t want to bring up the memories, anyways. Certain things lay down in the depths, things she didn’t want to think about.
After a few more minutes of idle chatter, Willow checked up on the mushrooms. They were done, a deep brownish colour, and pliable. Not dry, but dry enough to last a while. In that distinct, and narrow, region between ‘not done’ and ‘perfect,’ which Willow called ‘eh, good enough.’ She gathered them up, and bid Suzy goodbye.
Suzy opened her arms up for a hug. Willow stepped back, a little confused. She wasn’t opposed to a hug, not at all. She just...wasn’t expecting it, particularly not from Suzy. Suzy lowered her arms and looked down at
the ground before mumbling an apology.
Willow hugged her. She was...Willow was expecting her to feel cold, lifeless, like a piece of metal or a clay pot. She wasn’t. Suzy was warm, or at least warmer than the air around her. Her chest seemed to hum constantly, vibrating too quietly for Willow to hear. But she could feel it.
Suzy responded awkwardly. Her arms lifted up slowly, partly because Willow had pinned her by accident. But she did her best to return the gesture. They held each other for a moment, neither wanting to let go. Eventually, Willow peeled herself away, apologizing. She had to go.
The two of them walked together to the vine. It had grown quite a bit thicker over the last week. It was more secure, more tightly bonded to Yggdrasil. Willow was a little more at ease as she ascended the vine. It was almost always safe, but sometimes the thinness of a new rope was enough to make her second-guess. One of those cases of perception taking over and shoving aside reality.
Perception was a funny thing, Willow thought as she ascended. It was such a powerful, yet misleading thing, making you think nonsense even when you knew better. She was halfway up the vine when she felt a sort of tingling down her spine. The logical explanation, of course, was that it was merely her muscles straining to move. Her mind, though, insisted there was a horsefly crawling up her back, unswattable and ready to take a chunk out of her. She tried to ignore it, but the back of her mind kept telling her to swat the fly away.
Tulip was sitting on the side of the branch, eating his lunch. Willow furrowed her brow, wondering for only a moment why he was there, before asking him for some help. He leaned over and grabbed her hand, pulling Willow up the last two feet.
“Hi to you too,” Tulip said as Willow dusted herself off.
“What? Oh, hello. Good to see you, thanks for the help.”
“No problem. Got everything ya needed from down there?” He gestured to the chasm.
Willow scoffed. “Sure hope so. I’d hate to realize I forgot my…” she pat her pack, noticing that it was a little lighter than it should have been. By a few pounds, at least. “...my adze.”
Tulip laughed, grabbing Willow by the shoulder.
“Damn, guess you gotta go back down!”
Willow’s face burned with embarrassment and anger, mostly directed towards herself. She suppressed the urge to hit Tulip. Not that she would have actually done it.
She looked down at the vine. There was no way she was going to go back down so soon, and she knew her adze would be safe with Suzy. It was less about losing it, and more about... pride, about being clean and thorough.
Willow huffed, and started back towards the Stamen. Tulip squeezed her shoulder.
“By the way, Woundmender Oak asked me to talk to you first chance I got. He wants to speak to you about something.”
“I... see. Is that why you were waiting here?”
“Yeah, figured you’d be up today. Had nothing else on the schedule.”
Willow declined to ask him why he wasn’t helping in the Stamen. Surely the Treesingers or farmers or Youngguides could have used the help. Tulip probably wasn’t in the mood to hear it. He never was. She responded with a nod, and made her way back to the Stamen.
Rose was working in the orchard, picking lemons off one of the pseudosite trees. Her belly was swollen, a few months into her pregnancy. Her hair had been cut short in the last few days. Once down the nape of her neck, it was now less than a knuckle’s length. It looked roughly cut, like she had taken a knife to her head and didn’t care about uniformity. Willow hoped that whoever did the haircut wasn’t expecting any gift in return.
She offered Rose the mushrooms she had gathered.
“Here, I hope this is what you wanted,” Willow said. “Can I help you with anything else?”
“Oh! Willow, thank you so much!” She gave Willow a tight, somewhat unexpected, hug. Willow smiled, and hugged back. Rose and Willow had long been friends, and though originally there were other feelings, those had long subsided. It was a mild regret, maybe, but she had decided a long time ago to not press the matter.
“Now, shall we meet for tea tomorrow, by the waterfall?” Rose asked, letting Willow go.
“Of course,” she replied. “I’ll bring something to eat if you bring the tea.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll see what my partner can get.”
The two of them parted. Willow made her way over to the Woundmender’s hollow, and knocked on the door gently. There was a silence, before the door swung open. Woundmender Oak was standing there, as happy and jovial as he always was.
“Hello, Willow! Come in, come in! I assume Tulip spoke to you?”
“Yes, he was waiting by my vine. Seems like he had set up camp there to wait for me.”
Woundmender Oak’s tone dropped, disappointment marking his words.
“Ah. I see. Well, at least he got to you. Would you mind if we spoke for a minute or two? It’s nothing serious, there’s just a small concern that I have about your…” He gestured to her hand.
Willow walked inside, and sat down at the table. The Woundmender took her hand, the one cut over a week ago, and examined the stitches. After some hemming and hawing, he stood up and grabbed a small obsidian flake, yellow resin wrapped around one end as a handle. It glided gently over the stitches, splitting each one open. He was very careful, plucking each and every bit out.
It didn’t matter how careful he was, though. It hurt. Each string being pulled feeling like a needle piercing her flesh and sliding out, over and over again. Little specks of red formed in the holes left by each string. Willow tried her best not to flinch. The Woundmender seemed to not care too much about it. His job was over quickly.
“There!” He beamed. “I was worried that the stitches might induce a sepsis in kept in too long. I mean, you did mention that Iron One ran off into the Undergrowth, so I doubt they’d be around to help you.”
“Ah...yes. About that…Iron One. She seems to be...uh. Staying nearby. I stayed in a small cave that I converted into a shelter, and I saw her a few times.”
“What, when?!” Concern painted his words and face.
“That rain yesterday. I had found a small, raised alcove behind some vines, and decided to...uh. Stay there, out of the rain. Then that Iron One came into the cave, and asked me if I would let her stay out of the rain with me.”
“And...and did you?” He frowned. Willow nodded, reluctantly.
“I didn’t see the harm it in. She was small, didn’t look like she would hurt me. I fell asleep with her in the alcove, so I think it turned out ok.”
“I suppose so. My warnings from before still apply. Do not trust the Iron Ones, no matter how kind they may seem.”
Willow nodded. “Understood, Woundmender.”
She left the Woundmender’s hollow holding her hand, trying to ignore the painful pulsing that came from each tiny wound. She made her way back to her hollow, her mind racing. There were so many things she wasn’t sure of, so many things that she doubted. Maybe the others would be more receptive to her stories. Maybe she could be honest. That would be nice, not being afraid of some half-screamed lecture as she told her stories. The Woundmender was a lovely person, but...she still found herself a little afraid of him. At least, afraid of him when he was angry.
It was one of those things that she couldn’t settle on her own. It was just...too complex. Too strange. She’d need someone else’s advice on the matter. Grasping the small totem in her pack, she realized exactly who she needed to talk to.
CHAPTER FOUR
Willow placed the totem in a small hole in the back of her hollow. The crevice was just barely big enough for her to fit her hand inside. It was far from a beautiful piece of artwork; crudely carved into the vague shape of a face, amber applied a little too liberally so the smooth stone would stick to the top. The piece of whittled wood held meaning only because of who made it.
Silence fell over the hollow as Willow tried to think of what to say. Every spirit stayed in the Yggdrasil,
until they passed out of living memory, and that meant that Kael was still very much so around. It was just a matter of getting his attention. It wasn't like he was particularly busy, being dead and all.
She tried to visualize his face, remember what he looked like and how he spoke. The particular cadence to his voice, the sarcasm that was only suppressed but never dispelled. The messy, brown hair he perpetually wore short. Green eyes that sparkled every time she asked a question. It was an imperfect recollection, to be sure. But it was close enough. She could feel him around the hollow, throughout the Yggdrasil. Close, yet far away.
“Hey, Kael,” she said, hoping to get his attention if she could. “Remember...uh...remember when we...we first went to the Undergrowth?”
The memory came back to her. It was nearly a decade ago, if she remembered right. She wasn’t more than fourteen. It was a cold night. Winter, she thought.
No, Kael reminded her. She could feel him around her, getting closer. Still distant, too distant to really...see. But the no was clear. Fall. It was in fall, the later part. Dense fog everywhere, covering the Undergrowth so thick she couldn’t see a foot in front of her. The schluckgrubs were there, they were always there. By the ancestors, was she scared of them back then. But she remembered Kael, and with every bit of memory, every tiny piece she visualized, he came closer.
Come now, she remembered his voice. It’s hardly like these things’ll eat you. Always daring her to go forwards, always telling her to do something new, unexpected, spontaneous. To let go of fear and inhibition and just go with the flowing energies of the world. To just…have fun with it.
“Kael, I need your advice,” Willow whispered, keeping her voice as low as she could. She leaned forwards, into the little nook. “So... if you’re around. I’d appreciate it.”
He was present. Not in the same way he would be if he was alive, but he was definitely there. It was a presence that filled the small hollow. She could feel him, see him, but any glimpse she had was fleeting and peripheral.
What do you need? His voice seemed to manifest in her head. It didn’t sound exactly like him. It sounded far-off, almost an echo of himself.