Mark came out of his magical vision quest, gasping for air as his lungs struggled to remember how to work. He couldn’t pull in air through leaves he did not possess. He pitched forward, catching himself with one hand and pressing the other to his chest.

“Mark!”

Daniel flew to him, reaching out to grab Mark and leaving only cold spots where his insubstantial hands passed through Mark’s body. Daniel hissed in frustration, but knelt beside Mark, talking frantically, “Mark, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing… wrong…,” Mark got out, his muscles slowly remembering how to work.

“Yeah, no. I don’t quite believe that when you can’t breathe, dude,” Daniel said. He ran his hands through his shaggy hair, glancing from Mark to the Tree. “Is it hurting you?”

“Not intentionally,” Mark explained, his words coming smoother, “Just got… confused. Had to remember I’m not a tree.”

Daniel huffed a laugh. “Yeah, you’re not leafy enough for that. Did you manage to talk to it then? Is it going to help?”

Mark went quiet, studying the Tree contemplatively. “It accepted.”

Daniel waited for him to go on, but Mark didn’t know what to say. He felt something stirring in the air around them, growing stronger. It wasn’t a storm though. The energy grew deeper like still waters, calm but full. Waiting for Mark to submerge them both in it, just as he waited for it to be full.

“Mark?” Daniel asked, hesitantly. “What do you mean by ‘accepted’?”

It was Mark’s turn to laugh, his lips curving up in a small smile. For some reason, he wasn’t afraid, even though he knew he should be. “I guess we’ll find out.”

He held his hands out to Daniel. The ghost quirked an eyebrow at the gesture. “I can’t touch you, remember?” Daniel prompted.

Mark continued to extend his hands to his friend. “Do you trust me?”

Daniel paused to think about that. Rather than be offended, Mark was glad. This was not something to be done lightly, for all that they honestly shouldn’t have done it at all. If Daniel took this step, nothing would be the same for him again.

While Daniel was thinking, Mark looked up at the sky. He had started his prayer around midnight. By the movement of the moon, he’d been in communion with the Tree for over an hour, even though it felt like both eternally longer and infinitely shorter than that.

There were no clouds and the stars filled the void above them past the shroud of night-black leaves. So many stars, galaxies unfurling as soft streams of light speckled with brightness. Mark was small compared to such infinity. He was small even compared to the spreading branches of the Tree before him

That was alright. Small things could have important effects on the world. Mark didn’t need to be anything but small. Small meant focusing on the little things in life, which suited him just fine.

“I trust you,” Daniel said, reaching out to take Mark’s hands.

Mark felt the chill of Daniel’s touch and then let his body fall away, his spirit holding onto Daniel’s ghost. His body slumped, going limp. Daniel’s hands remained cool, but they were hands, soft with small calluses. His fingers twitched slightly in Mark’s grip without letting go. They were solid but too light, fragile as glass.

“Let’s do this, shall we?” Mark said, steeling his resolve. He could feel the deep well of power in the Tree, patiently waiting for them to make their choice of their own free will.

“What will this cost us?” Daniel asked softly. “You said it was a negotiation and would have a cost.”

“I promised the Tree that I would help it understand humans better,” Mark said.

“How? For how long?”

Mark shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Mark!” Daniel looked aghast. “You told me that open ended contracts like that are a horrible idea.”

“Yes, but I think this one will be well. I have a feeling about it.”

Mark really did have a feeling about this deal. The Tree had helped Mark figure out himself better, just by talking to him. If he continued to engage in philosophical communion with a greater spirit, his own spirit would grow.

He could see himself becoming a shaman he could be proud of by making this choice. That was enough for Mark. He lacked the experience or wisdom to judge anything further, torn between overthinking uselessly and pure ignorance.

“A feeling?” Daniel squeaked.

“Yes,” Mark said firmly. “This will empower you, as you wished, giving you more agency in your existence. I will gain from this as well. It is a deal I am willing to make.”

Daniel drew in a shaky breath. Mark wondered why ghosts breathed. Was it necessary somehow, drawing in some energy of the world instead of air, or was it just some leftover habit of mind and body?

“I don’t want to be invisible and powerless for the rest of my existence,” he said.

Mark smiled. “You don’t have to be.”

“Fuck,” Daniel whispered. “Okay, yeah. Let’s fucking do this.”

Mark didn’t wait after Daniel had agreed. He knew the ghost wanted this, under his perfectly valid fears, which was why he was willing to proceed. Fear could be harmful here. They needed faith to come through this experience steady and stronger.

Tugging lightly on Daniel’s hands, Mark pulled his friend into the Tree and the well of power bubbling up inside, waiting to pour over into them.

As soon as Mark stepped into the power, a chill spread through his soul, numbing him. It didn’t hurt like frost, but cooled like a mountain spring. Mark was dry soil and limp leaves, a seedling struggling to grow after being exposed to a poison. He needed to be cleansed and nourished and reformed, created anew with strong roots that reached into the depths of the world.

Once again, Mark felt panic rising inside him, urging him to fight, to cling to his weaknesses and traumas simply because they were his. He suppressed it firmly, holding himself open as the cold magic swept through his soul, cleaning out the pathways of his mind and heart. He sought not oblivion or forgetfulness, but peace and acceptance.

Holding that determination in his mind, Mark let the Tree work upon him and within him. He felt queries as to the needs of a human, body or spirit, and Mark answered to the best of his ability. The cleansing would pause and continue, rolling through him in gentle waves.

Nearby, Mark sensed Daniel undergoing his own baptism of magic and spirit. They were becoming… not different. Perhaps, more firmly themselves.

He felt hollowed out, but not changed. Like a cup was still a cup even when empty. The liquid inside might change, but the vessel did not. The image of someone using a red plastic solo cup in some major religious ceremony came to mind, making Mark smile.

The pool of power poured into the newly cleansed parts of his spirit and Mark let out a sigh of relief. Pain he didn’t know he’d been holding out eased. He was a thirsty man taking that first sip of cool clean water. He was a hungry man eating that first piece of warm bread. He was a tired man finally allowed to rest comfortably.

His roots were watered and sun shone on his leaves. Mark was blessed by the earth, by life and by death. A benediction of the cycles of the world came upon him.

As the power poured into and through him, Mark felt connections forming. His new roots spread out, touching the powerful roots of the Tree. He brushed past other smaller roots that sent off impressions of Daniel and Riordan, planted in the Tree’s earth.

He belonged here now, the world expanding around him. From the solid foundation of the roots and soil, Mark grew tall, his shadow falling over the domain around the Tree in both the physical and spiritual realms. He felt… connected. Linked.

Mark realized why what he was feeling seemed familiar. Frankie talked about what it was like to be the conduit of a territory spell. This lacked the formal structure of the ancient spell, but the experience, being aware of a domain, was the same.

This was his territory now. Not as an owner, but as his responsibility as a shaman. His not to own or govern, but to guard.

“Oh,” he whispered. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Or was he? Mark had made a promise to the Tree, understanding in exchange for power. Theirs would be an ongoing relationship. Was it so strange that the Tree had assumed Mark would be around to help it? Mark found he didn’t mind. He wanted to be of assistance.

Within this domain, the Tree trusted Mark to use its power for its defense. It did not want to be bothered. Mark would be its buffer. If someone wanted to bother it, they could talk to Mark first and then Mark could talk to the Tree. The Tree found Mark enjoyable to talk with, much as Riordan was. It learned much from them.

Like rain, Mark dripped back down into his body, easing out of communion but not out of connection. He lay there, letting the rising sun trickle down on his naked skin through the halo of leaves above him. He breathed in the cool morning air, heavy with the scents of the woods.

Dawn was always a hopeful time. Mark had never experienced it like this before, feeling it on his skin but also in the warming air of the domain and the slowly unfurling leaves as the plants turned their faces to the sun.

Riordan said that there was strength to be found in allies. Mark smiled. He’d found a good ally in the Tree.

He rose slowly, in no hurry even though he’d likely be missed at home before they returned. No, this was the home of his heart now. He might have a house elsewhere, even a pack elsewhere, but Mark would always have a home under the shade of the Tree.

After all, he was its Guardian.