There was a forest outside the Guildhall, the plants that formed it stretching ever upwards. Erik had never seen so much color in one place; golds and blues and greens and browns filled his vision, a scenic view of varied hues painted by a master of the arts. Splashes of color erupted here and there, bursting from the forest’s boundaries. Each formed in the same manner as the last: in hardly more than a moment and with no visible effort. They just came into being. Impossibly. Beautifully.

There was a dragon outside the Guildhall, the stone that formed it stretching even higher. Erik had never seen something so drab yet deadly; smooth grays molded themselves into spikes and scales and shards and spurs, each large enough to murder a man with sheer size. The gray clashed with the colors of the forest. Splashes of color spilled into drab, deadly stone, slipping through tiny cracks and painting its surface.

Despite that, there was always more gray underneath, just waiting to be found.

The stone dragon let out another roar, the sound like crashing stone and dangerous tremors, and its limbs began pulling free from the roots that tried to bind it. Cracks cascaded down its surface, starting thin and ending thick where the damage pooled at the creature’s lower limbs. Roots and leaves and branches and more lashed out at the beast, binding and constricting and breaking and -

“I suppose there’s no need to ask about what happened to the Nature Core, is there?” Kala whispered from beside him, the light sound of her voice just barely audible over the crashing over stone and the cracking of wood. Erik turned slightly, catching sight of her out of the corner of his eye - but only that. The rest of his attention remained on the forest that had sprouted from almost nothing at all, as well as the stone dragon that raged within its depths.

“No,” he replied. “I guess there isn’t.”

The two of them - and increasingly more, as the bravest or most foolhardy of the Guildhall’s occupants made their way to peer between the multitude of gaps between the wall, each new witness drawn by the gasps of the previous - watched the unfolding battle. What had once been the ruins of a grand plaza and the derelict buildings that surrounded it had been transformed into something out of a dream or a nightmare.

A dream, in that most would live their entire lives without ever seeing so much vegetation in one place.

A nightmare, in that the forest itself was alive; formed of monsters in the shape of crops and trees and bushes and vines, each more than enough to entangle those who plumbed the forest’s depths in search of sustenance.

“Even when it was smaller, it took all that I had to hold that thing back. Thought I might’ve been able to beat it, even, until I realized that it could take everything I hit it with and just make itself another body again. It was…humbling,” Kala continued, her voice still low beneath the rumbling of stone and creaking of wood. She shook her head, the motion drawing Erik’s eye again. “And now, all of this appears in an instant…I’m not sure I could do much about that either, if I had to. Ascended are a little unfair, aren’t they?”

Outside, the dragon thrashed and writhed, every movement causing the ground beneath Erik’s feet to tremble. Giant roots whipped against its armored hide with impunity, lashing out from above while the smaller - though still excessively large - plants below entangled the beast’s limbs. Occasionally, the great beast would achieve a small victory; a root would be sliced here, a tree felled there.

Always, what was destroyed was made anew, the attacking plants regrowing themselves with a speed that defied what should have been possible. Even the size of the plants didn’t make sense; they were too large, too tall, too thick; grown without the nutrients or water needed for something a fraction of their size, but grown nonetheless.

It shouldn’t have worked. It didn’t make sense. Was it because they weren’t really plants anymore, mutated into something closer to monsters after being near the Nature Core for so long? Or was it just the power of an Ascended at work, enough strength to break the world’s laws over one knee?

It didn’t matter. It worked anyway.

“Yes, yes they are,” Erik replied, finding his gaze drawn towards the tiny snake peering through a nearby crack. The little thing, so small despite its power, hissed quietly. “They really are.”

“Did I ever tell you why I settled down out here?” his father asked, his eyes flicking over one of the many missives atop his well-worn desk. Erik let his stance relax slightly, allowing muscles to fall loose. The others had already been dismissed to gather what supplies were necessary before the journey to Verdant Grove, and his father’s tone had turned more familial than martial in their absence. Not that the man ever entirely divested one from the other; many of Erik’s memories with his father were some combination of the two. It was just who he was.

“True love?” Erik responded with a wry smile. “Or was it just your old age getting to you?”

In truth, Erik knew that his parent’s relationship hadn’t been some storybook example of love at first sight. As far as he knew, his mother and father hadn’t gotten along at first; something to do with a lost bet, far too many drinks on both sides, and the two being forced to run from a group of Guardsmen. How that eventually led to a relationship, Erik didn’t really know. He had never really gotten the full story.

“Well, both of those certainly helped,” his father replied, letting out a bit of a chuckle before his expression turned more serious. “But no, neither was the real reason. I could have gone on longer, even slowing down as I was. If I had, I might not have met your mother to settle down with her in the first place. No, by the time we met, I had already grown…jaded. It was enough to bring me here, out to the edges of the World Dungeon and away from the inner cities. Less coin to be made here, for sure - and a simpler life because of it - but…”

“But?” Erik prompted, curious.

“Have you ever seen an Ascended fight?” his father abruptly asked. “Not that baby Ascended that Valera loves to carry around so much. He’s, what, months old at best? Beyond that, her Little Guardian may have captured the heart of Orken and the refugees, but that is because he is so unlike most Ascended. The abilities that he shows - illusions, healing, the totems and statue - aren’t what you’d normally expect from one. Nor is his disposition.”

“I guess I haven’t, then,” Erik was forced to admit. “But what does that have to do with -”

“I’m getting there, I’m getting there,” his father interrupted, waving a hand and letting out a sigh. “I haven’t just seen an Ascended fight. I’ve seen two fight each other, and the fact that there were two of them is likely the only reason I’m here to talk about it. Let me tell you, the difference between them and your little snake goes beyond words. The strength and abilities that some of them can gain with relative ease goes beyond what should be reasonably fair or even possible; it’s no wonder cities still fall despite the protection of the null-water. And yet, despite that, the inner cities still squabble among themselves for each other’s Cores. It’s a waste. And that is why I eventually left.

“There’s less politicking here, less backstabbing and conniving. It’s simpler here at the edges, where mana is still working to spread the borders of the World Dungeon, where Cores are more likely to form and be placed in the null-water where they belong - safe from powerful Ascended and politics both. Unfortunately, that’s beginning to change, and the little snake you brought is the start of half of that change. The other half, well…we brought that one with us, too. Comes anywhere humans go, eventually,” his father finished, looking more grim than usual.

“Isn’t it good that we have even a weak Ascended on our side then, to help deal with at least one half of that change?” Erik asked. “If more violent Ascended start to appear, his presence might count for a lot.”

His father eyed him. “If more Ascended start to appear in the area, he’ll do less than you think. Any one of us could kill him in an instant if the future-sight you suspect he has doesn’t cause him to hide from us. As he is, Orken’s little snake wouldn’t stand a chance against some of the Ascended monsters that I’ve seen or heard of. A Core or two could change that, maybe. It’s hard to tell. But keep in mind, by the time that he’s strong enough for that…it won’t just be fellow Ascended that he could kill. Make sure you understand that.”

His father leaned closer, bulk pressed against the edge of his desk.

“A snake is always going to bite. It’s in their nature. Just be sure that it won’t bite you before you make its fangs too deadly.”

Wood creaked and splintered. Stone cracked and shattered. Mouths groaned and mumbled. A snake hissed, tiny head peering through a crack.

Erik turned to Kala, finally turning his gaze away from their scaly protector. The motion was easy; voluntary. With the spores that infested him gone, it couldn’t be anything but. That, too, was a point in the snake’s favor; the spores’ absence was yet another sign of well-placed trust, the bite that removed them far from what his father had warned him to be wary of.

The very opposite, in fact.

“Unfair as it is, at least half of the unfairness here is on our side,” he murmured, feeling surprisingly at ease about the situation. Maybe it was the thought of that same unfairness potentially solving citywide hunger with ease getting to him. That was unfairness that he could get behind.

They just needed to survive the other half of that unfairness: a Skies-damned stone dragon, the giant thing as large as their Little Guardian was small.

Hopefully, they had allied themselves with the stronger serpent, sizes be damned.