“Hey Justine, do you hear something?” Meagan asked from my left. We had been dispatched from the faction a few days ago, and with our connections and knowledge, travelled much faster than the average Reform. This didn’t mean I enjoyed the trip though. Oh no. At first it was pleasant, getting out and about, seeing Start again.

At first the constant chatter of Meagan was enjoyable, she always helped my boredom back at the faction. At first I didn’t mind that she would pass out before finishing setting up camp. I truly didn’t mind that we couldn’t use any common Reform vehicles for fear of our enemies knowing our whereabouts. No. Now my mind was being whittled away by the monotonous countryside, the inane babble of Meagan, the handling of all the responsibilities, and the blisters on my feet. Many times I made quite vehement promises against Olania for her dooming me to this mental torture.

“Hm.” I responded on autopilot while I went back to the sweet sanctuary of my mind.

“It’s so weird, I could have sworn I heard the word beer.”

“That’s crazy.”

“I could really go for a beer right now, how about you Justine?”

“Sure.”

“What I wouldn’t do for a nice Belgian White. An easy to drink beer. Of course I would prefer if they used some kind of fruit in it as well. Fruity wheats are the tastiest if you ask me. Remember back when we had Red Sun? That was the best! The subtle hint of orange peel, the malty aftertaste. Did you know they actually used coriander instead of hops? I didn’t know until a year before Start!” Once Meagan started she could go on for hours. There was nothing I could do to stop it. Encouraging made it worse, ignoring her would leave her senselessly bothering me asking if she did something wrong. All I could do was suffer through it.

Luckily we had less than a day before I could get my own room, a nice bath, and some peace and quiet. If they had a library maybe I could even get a nice book to read. No matter how important this mission is, I am at least getting two nights of me-time.

“Justine? Justiiiiineeee?” I was broken out of my reverie by Meagan shaking my shoulder.

“Yes Meagan?” I responded, barely restraining myself from exploding with obscenities.

“I think there’s a tumbleweed up ahead.”

Yuclaus stalked towards the forest like the specter of destiny, the scales of fate resting in his hand. The conviction he felt was undeterred by the continuous tripping over cracks in the uneven pavement. At one point he determined that he must be taller in his dream than he was on Earth. That is the only explanation for the constant tripping, he reasoned. Luckily for our hero, there was no ruler to show him that he was exactly the same height.

Yuclaus had stumbled upon a rare opportunity with Isencia’s departure. Having to keep up appearances, he had been unable to look for a Soul Spore. Why would a powerful holder of two systems need the Soul Spore when he already had control over memories? Even though Cause had grown fond of Sen in a weird “I have no clue what's going on please help” sort of way, she limited him.

While knowledgeable, the constant pressure her presence carried was enough to deter Yuclaus from self improvement. He was so worried about messing up the script he believed controlled the dream, that he was unable to progress himself. His mind must’ve come to the same conclusion, sending the nymph away at the opportune time for Yuclaus to make progress.

Progress he intended to finish before returning. He needed a buffer for whatever would be thrown his way. He needed a snow plow. You know, because they like, clear the snow so that cars can drive. Kind of like how Yuclaus wants power so that he can figure out how to escape. Not my best I'll admit.

Isencia had let slip a small tidbit that if read between the lines, allowed Yuclaus a hint of how to get a Spore. How she responded when he initially asked about the Soul Spore said a thousand words. Notify me of a specific plant when it catches your interest, once you do so we can begin the process, she had said. Cause had implied that the Soul Spore wasn’t some mystical representation of his being distilled in plant form. Rather, it was something he was supposed to choose to reside in his soul.

Yuclaus believed he needed to find a physical plant, then perform some process in order to accept it as his Spore. The process eluded him, yet he was sure he would be able to figure it out once he got to that juncture. Hopefully he didn’t need to perform a “test of mettle” or “proof of worthiness” to acquire it. In any case, right now he needed to find a plant that radiates the grace my words once held.

Now our protagonist was taking a risk. He believed the forest was teeming with creatures hiding under the shade of it’s canopy. Yuclaus couldn’t have known that the wildlife was either captured or killed the moment it entered these woods. Yuclaus reached the end of the town, taking in his future stomping grounds.

The immediate wildlife he was greeted with was a line of trees which strangely made him think of a wall. There were trees resembling acacia where they would branch out forming almost a platform at the canopy. The leaves would only sit at the very tops of the branches, making it look as if the tree was holding up a turf field. These acacia were spaced equally apart, with shrubs separating them. Shrub would have been an accurate description, if the bush wasn’t as tall as the acacia.

They seemed as if they were trimmed to fill the exact opposite spaces of the acacia. As if the plant life was a jigsaw puzzle, perfectly fitting together to make a wall. Yuclaus kept walking confidently towards the closest bush. He was about to stroll through the side of it, when he saw something in the corner of his eye.

Branches came from the trunk of the bush like quills in a porcupine. The thin branches had a single leaf at their extremity. Which meant that this large bush covered in leaves, had a straight branch attached to each individual leaf. In other words, there were thousands of branches. That in itself would not have concerned Yuclaus, what would the amount of branches matter if you could just push through them? No, what was concerning was that the branches were literal quills. Each one ended in a sharp tip, the leaves seemingly pierced by the oversized thorns.

Unfortunately for Cause, his left foot was already raised in preparation to walk through the shrub. His body had already shifted forwards. To abort now would lead him to skewer himself as he fell into the bush. Rather than panic, Yuclaus balked at the shrub that thought itself a monkey’s equal. He focused his attention, concentrating his memory input into a thin stream. He then sauntered through the thorns as if they should be honored to pierce his skin.

Yuclaus felt nothing but an itch on his side being resolved. He came out on the other side, and without missing a step, continued. The thorn bush was interesting, but it lacked elegance and poise.

For the next incalculable period of time, Yuclaus explored the fantasy forest. He passed all sorts of flora, both mesmerizing and terrifying in his journey. From carnivorous plants, which attempted to bisect Yuclaus, to those that visibly moved through the earth; he had seen many candidates. The fact that he hadn’t seen any fauna filled Yuclaus with the idea that there was a better Spore to be had further in the forest. His dream was obviously leading him through the forest, removing any obstacle, paving his way to power. These magnificent entities were just made to lure him away. He would not give in to temptation.

By the time the shadow of the planets had come and gone, Yuclaus had finally found it.

Stretching in front of him was an emerald lake. The light sparkled off of the still water, revealing serpentine fish maneuvering in it’s depths. At least, that was what the tree in the center of the small lake wanted you to think. The scales of the fish gave away the truth.

The glimmering scales were five pronged, crystalline leaves reflecting the colors of the rainbow. The tree at the center mirrored the scales with its lush canopy. Reminiscent of an ornamental cherry tree, the beautiful leaves fell around the monarch of the forest. When the leaves alighted upon the water, a root would raise itself, adding the leaf as a scale. The root, now looking far more fishlike, would continue to patrol the lake.

Yuclaus needed the tree like a human needed the encouragement and support of a friend. Support is important, make sure you surround yourself with good friends. While typically one would consider the ramifications of approaching a possibly sentient tree, Cause barely flinched before stepping confidently into the shallows of the lake.

All nearby roots swiveled to face Yuclaus as he submerged himself. A root mugging did not take place. They hovered around him, as if watching an interesting bug. Occasionally one would leave to scout the rest of the lake, being replaced by another in due order. In this way, Yuclaus submerged his head in the water, and walked along the bottom of the lake towards the tree. Breathing is for pansies, Yuclaus doesn’t need air. Primarily because he doesn’t need to breathe, but same difference.

With his body on autopilot, Yuclaus had all of his attention on reinforcing his mind. If the roots piled upon him, he would prefer to not be reduced to the mental capacity of a toddler. The further into the depths he went, the more Yuclaus considered the validity of his choice. He had just walked straight into a lake full of possibly man eating root-fish, on his way to the creator of the nightmare fuel.

Well, it is too late now, I am sure it will work out. This must be the test of mettle, to determine if I have the guts to grasp the treasure in front of me. In this way, Yuclaus walked to the dense network of roots that made the base of the crystalline tree.

He got to the base, and readjusted his opinion of the tree to a crystalline mangrove. At this point a swarm of roots were hanging outside of his reach. Yuclaus was tempted to start climbing the roots like a play structure. Instead, he tried to test how much control he truly had over this world. Looking at the nearest root, Cause pointed at it.

The root shifted slightly back and forth, as if surprised that it was pointed out. Yuclaus emphasized his selection as if to say “yes you, the root in the middle”. Then turning his palm up, Yuclaus curled his finger towards himself, summoning the root forward. The serpentine fish obliged, coming within a hands distance from him. Yuclaus pointed at himself, then up at the thick trunk above the surface of the water.

The fish did not react in any way. Yuclaus shrugged, then grabbed hold of it. He ended up using two hands as the root was barely larger than what he could hold with one. Yuclaus then felt the pressure of water against his body, testing his hold as he was raised through the lake.

Yuclaus' head emerged from the water, he instinctively gasped for breath. The root nudged him forward, seemingly unable to raise itself above the water. Perhaps having crystal scales came with downsides. As he tread water, He looked around and saw that part of the trunk went sideways before plunging into the lake, creating a landing of sorts. Cause raised his hand waving it in front of the root, and then pointing it at the trunk a small distance away. He was brought there with due haste.

As he got to the side of the trunk, Yuclaus let go. The root drifted a few feet away, before staying. It sat like an alligator, floating on the surface. Cause felt no fear, rather a small amount of happiness that his new friend would be a witness to what he was about to do. Yuclaus, with an absence of grace, grabbed onto the wood before pulling himself up. Rolling to the center, he lifted himself to a standing position, water droplets cascading around him. It was time. Eying the tree, Yuclaus centered his chi, moving his legs into a horseback stance. He summoned his inner energy, channeling it into the palms of his hands. Yuclaus jerked his head back, wheeling his arm back like a pitcher.

“I CHOOSE YOU, CRYSTALLINE MANGROVE!” Yuclaus shouted, throwing his hand forward summoning a small gust of air. The small push of wind was soon dispersed into the atmosphere, leaving Cause standing arm outstretched, looking like a moron. Yuclaus would be lying if he said it was a joke. He stood up straight, straightening his clothes in embarrassment, glad that this moment would have no witnesses. He shifted his weight to one foot, thinking back to what Isencia had said and done.

The biggest hint he had was when Isencia had given him access to the Greenhouse. He remembered a heat stretching through his arm from the vines, before settling in his chest. Even now the pulse continued, occasionally tricking him into believing it was his heart. An idea started to form. By no means should it work, but Yuclaus had a sneaking suspicion it would.

Rolling up his soaked cotton sleeve, Yuclaus revealed the vine scar winding around his arm. He then attempted to somewhat move the energy in his chest back to his arm. After a minute of struggle, there was a gentle shift. A pain, not dissimilar from how he acquired the spore, spread towards his arm. The scar started to slowly fill with a green light, as if it were charging. Yuclaus bounced on his feet in excitement.

As the scar filled half way, a sense of foreboding crept upon Yuclaus. It seemed Murphy’s law would not let him escape so easily. He turned behind him, sensing the shadow of death hanging above the edge of the lake. Skimming across the water with an unsettling amount of speed, was a tumbleweed. It was headed straight for him. You don't choose the tumbleweed, the tumbleweed chooses you.

“NO! Hurry! Charge faster!” Yuclaus yelled in desperation at his impending doom. Now, it was a race for time. Would his scar finish charging up, allowing him to adopt the tree, or would the destroyer of hope foil his plans. The seconds ticked down. It looked like the Spore ritual would finish charging before inevitability arrived. Just as it was a hair away from completely filling, the process froze.

“Wait, no! You’re so close! Just finish!” Shouting at the scar did not accelerate the process. Was he missing something? Was there something else that needed to be done to finish the ritual? He looked between his hand and the base of the tree before coming to the obvious conclusion. He needed to touch it with his hand.

Yuclaus bent down, reaching down towards the trunk he was standing on. But it was too late. He felt an impact push into his stomach. More startled by the contact than moved by its momentum, Yuclaus stumbled backwards. He started to lose his balance, and instinctively reached out to grab something to catch himself. Simultaneously, he reached behind him to brace his fall. As his left hand touched the trunk below, his right reflexively snatched what felt like a bundle of twigs. A flash of greenlight enveloped the three.