With nothing else occupying my time, I stood watch over the strange seed. Over the course of the next few hours, green shoots emerged from the strange amalgamation of organic and inorganic material. Each new sprout wormed its way out of the flesh around it, questing upward for sunlight. The sprouts soon grew beyond simple stems, acquiring dark, multi-coloured leaves. They were quickly covered in a thick fuzz, which continued developing until they formed long pointed quills.

I tentatively reached out to touch one, only to jerk my hand back after the slightest contact. The razor-sharp tip had pierced right through my skin and a drop of blood welled from the tiny hole. Hearing me yelp, mostly in surprise, Yuriel turned toward me. “Be careful. It’s best if you don’t touch anything, especially while it’s growing.”

“Sorry.” I slunk a few steps back with a guilty look on my face. Clearly I hadn’t yet learnt that I shouldn’t mess around with Soarister’s creations, despite them having nearly killed me ever so recently. Maybe one day I’d learn from all my near deaths, but it was more likely that I’d die first. That was certainly what the odds suggested.

Tagath, who’d been mostly silent up until this point, came over to stand beside me. “It’s strange, while I know this should be something of a triumph, I find myself dreading what is to come.”

“Why? What is there to dread?”

“I’m sure part of it is simply due to the circumstances, but the thought of extending Soarister’s reach sits poorly with me. Even if it is to combat a still greater foe.”

“Why do you assume Soarister is our enemy? Has there been some war between your people that I’m not aware of?”

With a sombre expression, Tagath titled his head toward the heavens. “No, not yet, though it is only a matter of time. He seeks to transform this land into one that is both unwelcoming to my people and unfit to support them. How can it end in any other way?”

“Well, for one, I assume he doesn’t intend to take over the whole world. There’s plenty of room out here, I don’t see any reason why the two sides can’t share the place.”

My statement was met with a bemused smile from the old demon. “While that may be possible in theory, I find it to be exceedingly unlikely in reality. Even if Soarister does intend to constrain his ambitions, which he currently shows no signs of doing, then conflicts will inevitably arise as they always do.”

I suppose my thinking had been a little naïve. Okay, very naïve. What I’d said was logical, but Tagath was right; the world simply didn’t work that way. While it would be nice if it did, this was the reality I had to live in. “You’re right, I wasn’t thinking clearly. Still, even if there are conflicts that doesn’t mean you can’t reach a more or less peaceful resolution.”

“Perhaps, but good luck getting either side to work towards that. I know Lord Azuren has no interest in such conciliatory measures and Soarister has thus far showed no signs of being open to negotiation. If they don’t desire peace, then there is simply no chance of it occurring as anything more than a prelude to the next conflict.”

I shrugged. “Why not? Wouldn’t everyone prefer peace?”

“Only if it offered them everything they wanted, which is highly unlikely. And even if it did, somehow it never seems to be enough. In my view it is that very insatiability that lies at the core of the problem you’re describing.”

“So we’re just doomed to failure no matter what? I can’t accept that.”

“There is perhaps some small chance of a positive outcome. However, you must understand that you’re working against the very nature of those involved. Such things do not change easily, if at all.”

When he put it that way, it did sound more or less impossible for an individual to make any real difference. “You’re definitely right about that; people don’t change easily. Still, that can’t be the only way.”

Stroking his chin, Tagath stared at the growing plant while he thought. “I don’t see what the alternative would be, unless you were to force them to get along. And that option seems even less realistic.”

While I couldn’t think of a good way to refute that, I still refused to believe it. If I did, there’d ultimately be no point in anything we were doing. “And you’re okay with all that?”

“It is what it is, I find it best not to dwell on things we can’t change. Instead I simply devote myself to changing the world in my own small ways and furthering my own knowledge.”

That was probably the best one could realistically do, but I had no interest in setting realistic goals. If I did, then I may as well resign myself to dying a pointless, ignoble death in this world. Because that was the most likely outcome. Feeling that I’d said my piece, I let the conversation drift. We continued talking for a while, though my heart wasn’t really in it, and I soon went back to observing the miraculous plant before us.

There were small orbs forming below the spines now; some kind of berry by the looks of them. They quickly developed, expanding until they were size of grapes. The colour shifted, going from green to milky white. A rift formed in one of them, partially splitting it and exposing a soft, delicate layer with a swirling pattern. It was only when the dark spot in the centre of the pattern shifted that I realized it was an eye.

Each of the growths opened up, until there was a veritable colony of eyes sheltered beneath the protective spines. At first, they simply stared blindly upward, but they quickly gained focus and most of them looked right at me. Unnerved by the plant’s attention, if it could truly be called a plant, I retreated further.

I was beginning to understand why Yuriel had been reluctant to describe it; the more it developed, the stranger it got. Soon the spines were moving of their own accord in disturbingly independent patterns, as if they weren’t truly part of the plant at all. The sprouts supporting them, now bedecked in eyes, had thickened considerably until they resembled the thick roots of a tree.

Waving my arm, I caught Yuriel’s attention and she flew over. “Yes?”

“Are you sure this thing is safe?”

“It won’t harm you so long as you’re under my protection. Just make sure you don’t damage it.”

“Alright. What’s this thing called anyway?”

The leaves swirled before me, briefly losing their humanoid shape. “Yurielius.”

“Uh, did you just make that name up?”

“No comment.”

I chuckled. “Does it really not have a name?”

“It does, just not in the sense that I can communicate to you. Its name is in every leaf and stem, every tiny bit of it. All it requires is for you to know how to see it.”

“Can you show me how?”

“Only by changing your very nature.”

“Well do it then.”

“You really shouldn’t say things like that, something horrible is bound to happen. Not everyone is as kind as I am.”

I rolled my eyes. “I doubt things could get all that much worse.”

“Oh no? I knew someone once who ended up as one of the mouths on one of these things. As far as I know they’re still trapped like that, immobile and always hungry.”

Did she say mouths? I took another few steps back from the rapidly developing plant and wondered if it wouldn’t end up more horrifying than the grotesque creature it was growing from. “How did that happen?”

“She made a deal she shouldn’t have, exactly the sort of thing I’m warning you against.”

“I don’t have to worry about that sort of thing when you’re the one I’m dealing with though, right?”

“Like I said, be careful.”

Yuriel turned away and drifted off, leaving me shaken. Could something like that really happen to me? Or to Elmidath? It was awful to contemplate such a fate. Working under the Ortisfel almost seemed like a blessing in comparison, at least from what I’d seen of their minions. I was weighing up the fates I could suffer when Tagath tapped me on the shoulder.

“It appears it will still be a while before this area becomes part of Soarister’s domain. Do you think you could give me a hand with something in the meantime?”

“I guess, depends what it is.”

“Now that we’re here, I’ve remembered there’s a tool I left behind in the tower that might prove useful to us, assuming it’s still there. Best that we recover it now; we may not have a chance once Soarister takes over.”

“Just you and I?”

“It hardly seems worth bothering Lady Sarinknell with, and I doubt your friend would be of much use in its retrieval.”

He didn’t seem to be lying, but I was still a little wary. There was already good reason to distrust Tagath and the timing of this seemed all too convenient. Had he really not thought of whatever it was all in this time? On the other hand, if this were a trap, then he’d have come up with something better than a spur of the moment ambush. If he really was going to try something, I may as well get it over with. He’d likely have plenty of opportunities to betray us in the days ahead anyway, assuming he really was planning to.

“Fine, let’s do it. May as well get it over with. What’re we grabbing anyway?”

It didn’t make much of a difference to me either way, I was just curious.

“It’s a little complicated to explain. The simple version is that it’s function pertains to the creating and breaking of magical bonds.”

“Why do you need something like that?” I gestured towards the fallen abomination. “You’re not planning on making another one of those, are you?”

“No, no, nothing like that. I just thought it might be useful in the future, given my own entanglement with the Ortisfel.”

That seemed reasonable enough, I could certainly see why he was concerned about his connection to them. I’d seen what the Ortisfel had done to Elmidath’s father, and many others, being under their sway didn’t seem to end well for anyone.

“I hope it’s still in there then.”

Tagath gazed at the ruined tower with a concerned expression. “As do I.”