Aziel looked at Vhal again, but the lich did not seem interested in this exchange. Surely having a member of the grove in his home before they were officially part of his faction was not a good idea? He then felt a squeeze on his arm, and glanced around to see Celia smile and nod.
Was he the only one seeing the real purpose of this maneuver? Rosaline was essentially planting a spy among them, and she was not even trying to hide it.
With a deep sigh, Aziel pushed himself off his throne and took the few steps down to reach the young Dryad in question. He found that he towered over her.
“I appreciate the gesture and your trust placed in me, Blossom Rosaline,” he said. “I would be honored to host Niyela in Soul’s Rest—if she is willing, of course.” He offered his hand in greeting.
Niyela, who looked like a younger Amber, did not reciprocate. Instead, she looked up directly into his eyes. She stayed like that for a long moment, her brown eyes sparkling as she gazed at him. Aziel did not know what she was seeing there, but just as he was beginning to feel uncomfortable, she lowered herself to the ground before him, folding her legs under her. Her eyes remained locked on his, and her lips quivered slightly before her fingers reached up and felt for something between her breasts. Finding what she was looking for, she proceeded to cup her hands and raise them toward Aziel in offering.
Aziel peered down and saw a small green seed in her palm. He gave Rosaline a questioning look. The Blossom didn’t seem to notice; instead, she stared at Niyela in what Aziel could only describe as utter shock. He realized then that all the Dryads wore the same expression. The members of the Crimson Grove in particular looked livid, their hands gripping their weapons and shields tighter to their sides.
Confused, Aziel met Niyela’s gaze again. He could see fear in her eyes, but it was a different kind of fear to the one the Maivan princess had shown when witnessing the destruction of Whiteridge. It seemed more… personal than that. What was she so afraid of?
Not knowing what else to do, Aziel reached out and plucked the seed from Niyela’s hands. As soon as he did so, the Dryad let out a deep, shuddering breath, as if releasing a built-up pressure which was on the verge of exploding. Aziel knelt down to her level. There was still fear in her eyes, but it wasn’t the same now—this fear he recognized. Aziel smiled at the realization. Of course she would be afraid. The last time Aziel had accepted a Dryad seed, it had been burned.
In hopes of showing he meant her no harm, Aziel gently cupped her cheek with one hand. The Dryad blinked in surprise, but not a moment later leaned into his palm as a small smile showed itself through her anxiety.
“Don’t be scared,” he said. “I will not harm you. I admit my knowledge of your race is not substantial, so perhaps you can help me find a suitable place for your tree?”
The smile stretched wider, and Aziel couldn’t help but notice how pretty Niyela was. “Yes, Lord Aziel,” she said timidly.
“Good,” he replied. He stood and offered his hand to help her up, which she tentatively accepted. Niyela then climbed the steps to stand behind him and turned to face Rosaline, who looked back at her with a complex expression Aziel couldn’t decipher.
This silent exchange did not last long, however. Vhal, grinning once more, interrupted it. “There is something else we wish to discuss.”
“What more do you want, lich?” Rhene hissed, but Aziel could tell that her heart was not in it. Something else was angering her—and he had the distinct feeling it was Niyela.
“Sister,” Rosaline said, breaking eye-contact with Niyela at last. “We are here to make peace. Calm yourself.” Her words appeared to have the opposite effect however, as Rhene’s scowl only deepened.
“Did you plan this, sister?” Rhene spat back. “After all that trouble with Amber, did you think I would let such a thing go?”
Rosaline simply shook her head and turned back to face Vhal.
“What is it you wish to discuss?” she asked, ignoring the deadly stare her sister was directing at her. Aziel glanced between the two Dryads with interest, but controlled his curiosity.
Vhal seemed to be amused by this outburst. “Do you by any chance know of a race known as the Ogre’i?” he asked.
At this, all the Dryads—including Niyela—visibly tensed.
Rosaline was the first to recover. “Have you made enemies of the Ogre’i?” she asked, and Aziel noticed her jaw clench. Rhene, on the other hand, looked worried for the first time.
All that Aziel knew of the Ogre’i had come from Astrel, and that was limited to them being a race of renowned warriors of great strength. From the Dryads’ reactions, the Ogre’i now struck Aziel as possibly being more dangerous than that.
Vhal shook his head. “We have our reasons for wanting to know their location, but rest assured we are not their enemies… not yet, anyhow,” he added.
Rosaline seemed to think this over. Then she glanced at her sister and nodded. In response, Rhene only glared at her taller counterpart, before redirecting her scowl at Vhal.
“The Ogre’i are an old race,” Rhene said tersely. “One of the oldest, according to our mother. They were here long before the Jade Grove, the first of its kind and ancestral home of all the Dryads. The Ogre’i don’t move far from their home in the mountains, only venturing out in small expeditions from time to time.” Her expression grew serious, and she added, “It would be in your best interest not to anger them. They are powerful beings. We Dryads of the Crimson Grove used to trade and sometimes conduct tests of strength with them, but we have never won a single one—not even close.” Rhene’s face twisted in annoyance.
Aziel couldn’t help but smile at the hot-headed Dryad. She seemed hard to please.
“Their exact location?” Vhal asked.
Rhene described the entrance to their hidden cave complex in detail, which Astrel quickly noted down on a scroll she pulled from her pack.
“Then we shall end our discussion here for now,” Rosaline said, as soon as this was done. She gave Niyela a last, thoughtful glance before bowing low to Aziel.
Aziel bowed his own head slightly in return before bidding the Dryads farewell. “I wish you luck, Lord Aziel. We eagerly await good news,” Rosaline added, before the Grauda escorted her party out.
When the doors shut behind them, Aziel turned to Vhal, Celia and Niyela.
“So? Anyone care to add anything?” he asked.
Niyela looked away; Celia only shrugged. Vhal, grinning even more widely, leaned on his staff.
“They fully intend to join your faction, my Lord. Perhaps the Crimson Grove is more reluctant, but when we deliver on this favor, I believe they will keep their word.” Vhal’s gaze became sinister as it settled on Niyela. In response, the Dryad shuffled closer to Aziel. “They gave up this seedling to make sure they know what we are doing at all times. The only question is: why they were so upset about it…? Anything you would like to say, Niyela?”
Niyela practically wilted under the lich’s gaze, her whole body quivering. Aziel couldn’t stop himself feeling sympathetic. The poor creature was in a strange place with strange people, including a demon and a lich. To make things worse, her tree wasn’t yet planted, so she was vulnerable. Her safety and well-being had been entrusted to him, a responsibility he wasn’t going to take lightly, especially since whatever happened to her might affect how the Dryads would deal with his faction.
Firmly, Aziel positioned himself between Vhal and Niyela. “There is no need to frighten her.”
“Yeah, stop being a creep for once,” Celia added, moving closer. “Look at the poor thing, she’s shaking.” Though Aziel knew Celia was trying to be supportive, her proximity did not appear to be helping matters.
Sighing, Aziel knelt again before the Dryad so that he no longer towered over her. She really was so young. In a reassuring gesture, he reached up to stroke her dark-green hair, which surprised him with its pleasant smoothness and softness. Then he offered her his hand, which she gently grasped. Aziel stoo
d, smiling down at her before turning to Vhal.
“Yourself and Celia will take four Grauda division and begin the subjugation of Gorshak’s Horde,” he commanded. “You both wanted this, so I expect you to be thorough, especially if they are as Rosaline described them. Take them all out—I do not wish to have to deal with some form of insurgency at a later time because you left survivors. And don’t forget about the Grove Heart.”
“As you command, my Lord,” Vhal said with a bow, before moving toward the levitation platforms.
Celia, however, grinned and pressed against Aziel to kiss him on the lips. “I won’t let you down, Master,” she said with a playful wink before following after Vhal.
Aziel shook his head in bemusement; Celia honestly took every chance she could. He looked down at the young Dryad, whose whole body seemed to turn a darker shade of green as his gaze fell on her.
Aziel smiled gently as the doors shut behind the others. “How old are you, Niyela?”
Niyela hesitated. “Dryads don’t usually keep track of such matters, but I would say around fourty seasons? Our appearance depends on the strength of our tree, not our age,” she said, then bit her lip. “But I only recently gained the ability to incarnate and leave my tree.”
Aziel was surprised by this answer, which sounded far more mature than he expected. He had honestly assumed she was a child. Her features were identical to Amber’s, though she was even smaller than the late Dryad. But applying the same standards to every race was foolish, he supposed. From what Celia had told him, he did not look his ancient age either. But the second part of her statement bothered him.
“Your tree was uprooted shortly after you gained the ability to move away from it?” he asked, with a slight frown.
Niyela looked up at last, revealing a bright smile. “It’s not like that. All Dryads are uprooted from the nursery after we first incarnate. It allows us to choose which grove we wish to officially call home and replant our seed in.” She dropped her head again. “We can gain the ability to incarnate quickly if our tree has the mana for it. Mother once told me of a Dryad who incarnated just a few weeks after planting her seed!” As Niyela spoke, her gaze drifted back to his; her excited manner somehow made her even more adorable than before. “My nursery wasn’t so rich in mana, so it took me a while, and my form is small as a result.”
“Do you wish to plant your tree here?” Aziel asked.
Niyela eyes opened wide and she nodded vigorously. “I-I do!” she said, with an intensity Aziel hadn’t thought the little seedling would be able to muster. He felt caught off guard.
“I see,” he said. “And other than mana, what sort of things help keep your tree healthy? Is it like any other tree? Soil, water, and sunlight?” He paused, realizing that there was no such place within Soul’s Rest.
“No, it’s nothing like that,” she replied with a smile. “Dryad trees live off mana alone. We require a mixture of earth and nature mana to grow. Our roots work deep into the earth to find what we need, but our leaves also absorb mana from the air around us. There have even been instances of Dryad trees prospering within caves or deep underground.”
Aziel smiled back, relieved. If mana was all her tree needed, then he knew of a perfect spot.
Chapter 6
Like all others before her, Niyela gasped when she first entered the crystal chamber. Aziel even noticed her shiver slightly and wondered if she was experiencing pleasure just like Celia did. The Dryads reminded him of his Succubus in many ways, so perhaps they also shared Celia’s sensitivity to his mana.
Taking her hand, he led her to his curved rock.
“Do you think this would be a good place for your tree?” he asked, taking a seat.
Niyela watched him, her lips parting slightly. “You would let me plant my tree here?” she asked, the shock evident in her voice.
“Only if you want to.”
The Dryad kept staring at him as if waiting for him to laugh or reveal that this was all an elaborate joke, but Aziel simply stared back at her.
“But… this is a place of power—your place of power,” she said, reluctantly.
Aziel smiled. Despite her protests, he could see the Dryad wanted this; the look in her eyes was practically begging. “Yes, it is,” he said, holding out her seed. “Choose a spot and plant your seed.”
But Niyela shook her head. “I offered my seed to you. As Grove Master, you must choose where the blossom’s tree is planted.”
“Grove Master?” Aziel asked, caught by surprise.
“Y-yes…” Niyela replied hesitantly. “You are an eligible male who accepted a seed offered by an incarnated Dryad. My seed. By planting it, you will create a new grove where all our…” She froze and her gaze dropped to the floor again. “…all our future daughters and sisters will be planted,” she finished, her voice growing quieter with each word.
Aziel stared at her unblinkingly. Was this what Rosaline intended? She had not mentioned a grove. Or… was this why the Dryads had reacted so oddly to Niyela’s gesture? And how was it that he repeatedly found himself accepting an offer, without knowing the full breadth and meaning behind it?
“You decided this for yourself, didn’t you?” he asked, slowly. “Your mother didn’t know you intended to start your own grove until you offered your seed to me.”
Niyela wouldn’t meet his eye. “Y-yes…” she mumbled, then wrapped her hands around her body as if making herself smaller would protect her from some perceived danger. “Dryads have rigid customs dictating when and by whom new groves can be created. The vast majority of Dryads never procreate. Traditionally, I would have to get permission from my Blossom and be at least a Greater Dryad, but when I laid eyes on you I—I…” Her face flushed and she trailed off.
Aziel’s brow cleared, the reason for that initial fear he had seen in her eyes now also clear. She had feared rejection.
“What would have happened if I had not accepted your seed?” he asked, as a weight began to pull on his heart.
Niyela fell silent, one hand rubbing at her opposite arm as she stared at the ground, before lifting her gaze to meet his. “I… I don’t know. I broke many rules and traditions by doing what I did. The only other Dryad I knew of who even tried such a thing was Amber, and she was shunned and exiled to the edge of our territory as a result, even though she was the eldest grove member after Rosaline and Rhene.”
Aziel sighed, remembering Rhene’s reaction to the offering. It seemed things were not going to go smoothly. He could only hope Rosaline—who, though shocked, had seemed somewhat more accepting—would speak to her hot-headed fellow Blossom and ease matters.
Niyela frowned and looked away, and Aziel winced inwardly as he realized how his prolonged silence must have seemed to her. He reached out to touch the young Dryad’s head again, reassuring her. “Tell me,” he asked, gently. “Do the other groves also have non-Dryad Grove Masters?”
Niyela relaxed, relief washing over her features. “A Grove Master must be a male, so he can’t be a Dryad,” she replied with a smile. “A grove starts with the choosing of an eligible male. A Grove Master who would help… well, to grow the grove.” She turned away at that, crossing her legs as she once again tried to make herself appear smaller. “Both of the Sister Groves lost their Grove Masters long ago.”
Even Aziel could follow what her words implied. If there were no male Dryads, then either they did not need males, or they needed a male of another species to procreate. With that thought, though, came another. “If their Grove Masters are gone,” he asked, “how do the Sister Groves plant new Dryads?”
Niyela broke into a wide smile, practically standing on tiptoes as excitement exploded from her. Her abrupt swings from nervous to exited energy were making it difficult for Aziel to keep track of her feelings. “A Blossom can hold tens of thousands of fertilized seeds within her tree! Mother still plants seeds when the grove can sustain a higher population. Even though her chosen Grove Master died a long time ago, he lives thro
ugh her seeds… or that’s what she always says.”
Aziel was not certain if he wanted to father Dryads, or whether he understood the consequences of that. But he also didn’t want to crush this lovely Dryad’s dreams of building her own grove, especially when she seemed so enthusiastic about it.
“Other than the obvious,” he said carefully, “what else would I need to do as Grove Master?” His question elicited an even brighter smile from Niyela, which somehow made it all worth it in his mind.
“Nothing!” she said, before letting out a short giggle. “I don’t know how, but your place of power is perfect! It has the perfect mix of mana to help a Dryad grow. If our grove is planted here, there will be no limit on how many Dryads we can plant!” She twirled in place. “I will tend to the trees and take care of everything else!”
Aziel couldn’t help smiling back; her joy was infectious. The “perfect mix” must mean his soul mana, he guessed. He stood, looking around for a place to plant the seed he still held. He didn’t want it hidden in some corner of the chamber, nor did he want it to block any paths.
Holding the seed between two fingers, he turned to the Dryad and asked, “Do I just place it on the ground?”
Niyela shook her head, then pressed her right index finger on her lips as if trying to recall something. “Umm… You must first mark my seed with your blood—a single drop should be enough. That will make us compatible and establish you as the Grove Master and I as the Blossom. You should then place it on the ground and it will do the rest.” As she spoke, her excitement grew, and by the end she was hopping slightly in place.
Aziel pulled his blade halfway out of its sheath. He winced at the sharp pain as he drew his thumb across its razor-sharp edge, allowing his blood to drip from the cut into his palm. He looked up at Niyela, who nodded.
Fallen Ambitions Page 9