Shael stood stoic behind Naal, chieftain of the Elkin tribe. She was his Spearhand, sworn to defend him with her life. She and the other Spearhands stood poised against the rounded wall in the hollow of the Center Tree, the base point from where all five tribes intersected in their territory. The tree was hollowed out to open up above, revealing the lone moon amongst the sea of stars shining in the dark indigo sky.

Fungus glow caps grew inside illuminating the hollow with its soft yellow light. Despite its void within the Elder tree still lived, shaped by the sylven druids. The table and chairs where all five of the chieftains sat was formed from the tree itself, one and the same. Wood smoothed in contoured curves to match the sylvans’ backs where they sat around the table.

The table of knotted wood grew to a flat top where the forest was scaled down perfectly by miniature saplings as high as half of Shael’s arm. The walled cities of man were represented as gnarled crevices that lay outside the forest's threshold. A seer was controlling the living map, palms pressed to the table eyes closed in concentration. There was an even smaller forest represented as high as Shael’s small finger, and many of its woods were wilting rapidly, greying in color.

“This is an act of war!” Chieftain Quani of the Wolven tribe screeched. “We cannot let the humans go any further!”

Easy to say for a tribe living behind us, Shael thought.

"Their king was slain, in our own lands. The humans have come seeking vengeance," chieftain Kaelin of the Anmir tribe intoned in his grim baritone.

"Despite their diminished power they are still children of the Gods. Do we wish to battle such foes?" Chieftain Erul of the Odigwe tribe remained cautious of any interactions with mankind. His tribe lay in the deepest reaches of the forest, untouched by man for centuries.

"They'll meet the same fate as their armies before them," Quani snarled.

"We cannot rely on the Orrkin," chieftain Ythra of the Tauri tribe spoke hurriedly. "We were at war with their kind in our history before even man’s arrival!"

Shael's chieftain was last to speak. As his tribe lay closest to the frontier of the forest he held the most experience dealing with mankind.

"I agree with Ythra," Naal spoke, the rest listening respectfully. "To depend on the Orrkin would lead to our downfall. We thought once mankind listened to the balance, but they are ignorant to the way. We must be prepared to safeguard our lands. But as of right now we should wait."

"What do you propose we do?" Quani gestured at the dying saplings on the living map. "Do you think they will relent when they reach our forests?”

“To fight the humans on open ground is suicide,” Naal answered harshly. “My tribe knows that all too well. And what they are now doing is creating open ground. We must bide our time and wait for them to advance within the cover of our woods. Then we shall strike."

"No… this is different," Erul leaned forward, eyeing the map. Though Erul was cautious his wisdom exceeded every other chieftains' through his venerable age.

"The technology of man advances faster than we thought. Their control over fire makes them even more dangerous. What will we do if they are able to burn the Elder Forest?" There was a moment of silence as Naal sat, going through all the choices for his people. The others absorbed the severity of Erul's statement, that mankind could be able to raze their homes at will.

"Then we must retreat into the deeper reaches of the forest. Into your territory." Upon Naal's words chieftains Quani and Kaelin rose from their seats to voice in fervent opposition. Naal spread out his hands to their clamor, and Ythra called out, "Are you both so selfish you would turn away your own kind from refuge? You should be ashamed. The Elkin Tribe have protected us for centuries."

"I will not endanger my people any further. I call a vote for this decision. Should the humans be able to raze the Elder wood, we will be allowed refuge amongst the other Tribes. Those in favor?"

Naal, Ythra and Erul raised their hands while Quani and Kaelin sat down motionless.

"Food is scarce enough as it is. It will be hard fought to feed so many sylven under one territory," Kaelin said gravely.

"We will live off the warmth of Heli and Oss," Naal reassured the old chieftain.

"You would slowly starve your people than stand and fight?" Quani asked.

Naal glared at her, Shael's brow furrowed, her grip tightening around her spear.

"You go too far, chieftain Quani. For too long have my people suffered at the hands of man. Some still suffer to this day, and our efforts to reunite our kin have ended with even more loss.”

“You are not the only tribe to have lost kindred,” Kaelin’s tone softened. “Let us contact the Orrkin if it goes this far. If even the Elder forest is not safe, then we have nowhere to go. We must fight.”

“If the Elder forest is vulnerable to man’s destruction. I did not say I will subject my people to this,” Naal said firmly. “Until all our options are exhausted then shall we act accordingly. As for the Orrkin, I agree with your wisdom chieftain Kaelin. But they will only aid us if the Elder Tree is threatened.”

“I will petition the druids at once to contact the Orrkin.” Chieftain Erul stood up, followed by the other chieftains, signalling the end of the meeting. The seer took his hands off the table, severing the connection. The other chieftains(along with their Spearhands) besides Naal and Ythra flickered out of existence.

Shael followed her chieftain closely behind as they rose to leave. The Center tree connected with the other Elder trees, a vast network of branched bridges that forked and split seamlessly together. Flattened indentations shaped by the druids acted as steps on the massively wide branches, vines twisted and tied together as railings.

"These are grave times," Ythra murmured to Naal. "But know your people will always have a place in my Tribe." The Tauri tribe neighboured the Elkin, sharing close bonds.

Naal clasped one hand over hers. "I am gladdened by your words. We shall see when, if the time comes."

Ythra nodded before she and her Spearhand ran past and disappeared into the dark of the forest. Naal turned to Shael.

"We must make haste." He jumped past the bridge and landed nimbly onto another branch crossing, shadowed by Shael. To and fro they moved with swift grace below the dense forest canopy high up the tree tops. The forest was never fully silent, insects chirping, birds softly cooing and leaves rustling to the night breeze. They reached the Elkin arboreal by the suns' rise, their rays piercing through the intersecting foliage.

"Summon the seer," Naal recovered after several winded breaths. "The tribe must know what is to come."

Shael nodded with hesitance. "At once, chieftain."

She placed her hand on the tree, searching for the village seer. The vast network of the forest seeped through her eyes. Threads of life intertwined so fully that it was impossibly entangled. In an instant she located the seer, his aura bright among the seemingly infinite strands coursing with the flow of creation. He was not far, but preferred to isolate himself from the other sylven as seers tended to do.

Shael sprung forward, grabbing spare vines and swinging from one great branch to the next. Normally she would have a gleeful grin on her face, but this was no normal day. Shael landed lightly on the branch work, ducking under the moss covers to the seer’s hollow. She caught him meditating, his form bathed in the dawn’s light. His eyes opened curiously at her approach.

“The chieftain requests your presence,” she said harsher than was needed. Shael did not understand the seers, having taken oaths of passiveness for all things, including man. Gutless shivardthei, she thought. With their reach we could locate our lost kin. Too sun drunk to see reason.

“We must move with haste. And put on some clothes.” Shael shook her head and waited outside, drumming her fingers along the haft of her spear. The seer emerged garbed in his ceremonial white robes, weaved from silk mothrai. He padded past Shael and much to her annoyance walked on.

“I’ve spoken to Naal,” he explained. “He will meet us at the next crossing.” They found the chieftain waiting, hands clasped behind him overlooking the arboreal. Sylven in the distance walked along the branch works, setting up stalls for barter or gathering in groups. Naal turned to the seer and they stood in unspoken understanding. He took the seer’s hand and covered it with his own, both their eyes closed in focus.

Sylven of Elkin, Naal’s voice echoed in Shael’s mind. This is your chieftain. War has come upon us. Man has burned the Newling forest, and they come to burn our woods as well. We will not leave and forsake this land to their hands however, so long as our fears remain uncertain. May Vath grant us his strength in the coming days. Be brave, be vigilant, as we must take up arms to defend our woods once more.

***

Shael leaped and bounded past, several sylven following in her stead. This was what she lived for, to roam the forests freely and make her mark. She was a Spearhand, but a Warden before. Her duty was not just to protect her chieftain, but the tribe itself from any threats. Their leather armor blended with the dark knotted wood, the moss stuffing muffled their movements.

They were the vanguard of her tribe, the spear that cut a clear path. They would not relent until the tribe’s safety was assured. Naal had told her to rest but Shael had gone to join the others undeterred. She had to be strong. All were depending on it.

“Shael,” Fenrith panted behind her. “The others grow tired. It’s almost two days bound to the frontier. We need to rest. You need to rest.”

She stopped, the others catching up, cradling their torsos.

“Only the rays of Heli and Oss compare to your kindness. Their light shine jealously on your sylf beauty, Shael Evandriel,'' Fenrith whispered, akin to a lover. Well, that didn’t take long. Despite his foolish humor Fenrith was an honorable vanni of respected ancestry. It was a shame he could not win her over by Ravshi, though that did not count for his lack of trying. Shael made a great show of sighing in dramatic exasperation.

“You cannot hope to win me over. You are too weak. Thus you resort to time worn mirth that will only result in your own woe.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” he scratched his pitch black stubble against his earthy skin. “But I like a challenge, and you Shael are the greatest challenge in this poor heartstruck vanni’s life,” he winked coyly at her. Shael suppressed a grin, turning it upside down. Even in the face of an invasion he was ready to call for another Ravshi. Maybe he could beat her. If she let him.

A lanky sylf with wild dark green hair approached them. Erylda, one of the best hunters among the Wardens.

“We’ve found an open hollow. It’s your turn Shael.”

“Perhaps I can join you sylfs?” Fenrith asked.

“Go pair up with a goat,” Erylda wagged her thumb around. Shael followed her, nodding to the two sylfs standing guard from prying eyes. She waved through the moss covers and entered the open hollow. Sunlight shone down, her second eyelids closing by instinct to protect her against its blinding brightness.

Shael promptly stripped, throwing off her gear, and lay on the soft moss carpet absorbing the suns’ power. Her body radiated with newfound energy, spreading in steady waves with each moment. She rose, rejuvenated, giving thanks to the brother gods Heli and Oss. Waiting outside she caught the dozen or so sylfs in fervent discussion. Some stood, others squatted down, spears balanced on their knees.

“The chieftain is overreacting,” Auril said, slender and delicate as a flower, though fierce as a wolv in battle. “The humans can only try to bring down the Elder woods. And we’ll be there to stop them.”

“He was not always like this," Ziya, one of the older Wardens, murmured. "He once sought to free us from this place. When we lost more than we gained he became wary of warring with man."

"Caution should be lost to the wind!" Auril stamped the butt end of her spear against the branch they stood on.

"I say we remind the humans who first lived in this world, and renew our raids on their lands!" Several of the younger sylfs nodded their agreement.

"Fools." Shael stepped forward, Auril meeting her gaze in defiance.

"You're all fools to think this way. When was the last time you fought a human? Do you know their tactics today? Have you seen the powers they wield, of even their godless kindred?"

Auril's stare wavered, she looked down. Shael continued, "They carry weapons able to shoot out balls harder than our spear tips that travel from the ground to the treetops as fast as you can blink. The force of them can break through skin and bone instantly. Their blades are sharper and more durable than drakul bone. The humans think of new ways of killing and are very good at it. And those are just the godless ones, which outnumber us greatly. It is their lands now, just as these woods are ours.”

Shael strode past to join the hunting party Erylda had gathered. Fenrith grinned at her appearance. Erylda pressed her hand upon the Elder tree, eyes closed in concentration.

“I’ve found a herd. They’re not far.”

Vines as thick as Shael’s arm lashed to each branch. Through their use they clambered down, descending to the forest floor. The sounds of the animals became more pronounced, bird cries echoing, insects buzzing, and the light pattering of elkin hooves brushing past shrubbery. Shael motioned Fenrith to move to the cover of a tree trunk, the other sylven silently surrounding the herd. She reached for her longbow strapped to her back and nocked an arrow, bowstring taut and shaking from the pull of her hand. She exhaled slowly.

The elkith raised its head, ears perked back in knowing. Shael released its pull, arrow streaking towards its target. The elkith dropped dead, its heart pierced through. The other elkin broke out in all directions, only for the other sylven to spring out from the leafy undergrowth. Fenrith hurled his spear at a stag charging forward, its mighty antlers lowered. The drakul toothed spear drove into its skull, instantly toppling it.

Shael shouldered the elkith’s body to Gweyr, a sylf with a clever mind and skillful fingers. Each sylvan carried their kill, three elkin in total, enough to feed the quarter or so sylven that rejoined them on the forest floor. Gweyr worked on Shael’s mark suspended to a skinning rack, hands flicking in deft movements with her clouded turquoise crystal knife. Shael took the time to refill her waterskin in a nearby creek, Fenrith naturally following suit. His usual nonchalant grin was gone, lips set in a grim line.

“It’s been some time since the humans set foot here. Is it true? Are they able to burn down,” he waved his hands to the trees looming over them hundreds of feet high. “All of this?”

“I do not know. What I saw at the meeting was nearly a third of the Newling forest dying. The humans think we killed their king.”

“Only they would kill their own kindred,” Fenrith shook his head almost in pity. “Humans are a twisted kind.”

“They are blind to the way. What more can you expect from them?” Shael plugged her waterskin shut. “Mankind once tread on the path to guidance. Now they have forgotten, and bring nothing but a cycle of death.”

“If only the way could be shown to them. Then they would understand as he did.”

“I did not take you for one full of hope.”

“They are not so different from us. Perhaps it is not too late for them.”

“You talk like one of them. A seer.” Shael spat out the last word in distaste.

Fenrith shrugged.

“Some fought for us, do not forget. A rotten fruit from a tree does not mean the tree is rotten. They could have remained gods, but they chose not to. That means something.”

“What that means,” Shael stood up. “Is that they can be killed. Before they kill us.”

She left Fenrith to catch the savory aroma of elkith meat roasting. Shael swept past the moss curtains which concealed the ground hollow. Several sylven inside circled round a stone pit, embers smoldering as the fire licked the turning meat on a thin branch spit. The smoke escaped to a circled opening of the tree trunk above, the ceiling blackened from untold years of the fire pit’s use.

Erylda passed her a wooden bowl as they began to carve out the charred elkith. Shael cut her meat with her knife, a smooth oval stone pommel connecting to a roughly hewn crystallized turquoise blade. Only the Wardens possessed Eru crystal in the tribe, harder than drakul tooth and even rarer.

They chewed on their food in silence to the nocturnal sounds of birds hooting and insects chirping outside. What remained of the elkith they buried, giving thanks to the Great Mother for the meal she had provided. Shael’s group rejoined the other Wardens in their seperate ground hollows to climb back up to the treetops.

Once up the lofty heights of the branch works they searched for the hidden retreats shaped for the use of the Wardens, who were the only sylven to venture so far out of the tribe’s arboreal towards the frontier of man. Shael shared the warden hollow with several other sleeping sylfs.

Though she lay still underneath the moss blanket her eyes remained open. Her thoughts focused on Fenrith’s words. They are not so different from us. Perhaps it is not too late for them. She grimaced. This was not her first encounter with mankind, having witnessed their countless incursions upon their woods. Each incursion had met with the end of a fellow sylvan, or worse, taken captive to some unknown fate. The chieftain over the decades had tightened the borders surrounding the arboreal, forbidding his people from roaming too close to the Newling Forest. Now they were burning what stood between them and the arboreal. Shael cleared her mind, taking deep controlled breaths. She would need her strength for the coming day. Slowly but surely she drifted off into the calm of slumber.

***

They left by the break of dawn, traveling atop the branch works. There were no vine railings here, a perilous drop should one slip and fall down from the bird's eye view. They ran despite the danger, graceful and swift, true to the name of their tribe. For hours they continued their daring momentum. A sheen of sweat glistened on Shael’s exposed light green skin from the dappled suns’ light. She was at the lead, as always. By the half day they smelled it, the acrid stench of smoke and wood burning. Shael quickened her pace, the others striving to catch up to her.

She stopped, tan leather boots skidding to a halt where the branch ended in a drop to the Newling Forest. She could see the slope of the saplings up to the wall that man constructed to guard their borders. A cloud of dark smoke rose from the ashes to reach above even the Elder forest, more than two thirds of its woods burnt to cinders.

Shael squatted down to rest a hand on the branch she was on, closing her eyes. So many trees, their countless strands of life flickering and dying out. Animals fleeing, full of fear and flashing red pain branded to their auras. It was now a swathe of death, an empty void disconnected to the vast network of creation. She heard Fenrith gasp for breath behind her.

“The forest,” he said, hunched down. “So much of it is already gone. What do we do now?”

“We wait.” Shael gritted her teeth. “And see what they have planned for next.”