Xamiliere proudly presented what could only be called a pair of small sticks shoved into a couple of paltry clay cups. Despite only being about ten centimeters tall, both of them had a single leaf growing from about halfway up their length, which wasn’t all that impressive considering they were being grown by a literal nature spirit. “These are out tickets to mother grove. A spriggan is never far from home as long as there are some plants around.”

“Okay… Unless we’re supposed to eat them, I’m not sure where this is going.” Anastacia commented and tried to look for any kind of signs that they were indeed something more than just a couple of sticks in mud.

“Observe!” The spriggan declared and placed the cups onto the hastily cleaned floor of Anastacia’s room, about a meter apart from each other. She then stuck a finger in each of the cups and a weak, faded wave of greenish energy traveled down her arms into the meager handfuls of soil reserved for each of the sticks. Within seconds, both of them doubled in length and kept growing from there, sprouting into a pair of freshly grown oak saplings with several bright green leaves growing from each new branch that formed. Soon enough, the cups shattered as the roots could no longer fit in them, spreading soil and shards of clay across the floor. Finally, only after the tip of each tree had reached the ceiling and started to bend, and the roots had spread enough to be entangled with each other, the rapid growth ceased. “Impressive, is it not?” Xamiliere asked and proudly posed in front of her works.

“Very, but I’m pretty sure Rosie will kill us both if she decides to check the room while we’re gone.” The necromancer said and kicked some of the dirt that had flown across the entire floor.

Xamiliere shrugged. “A worthy death if there ever was one.” She joked and floated up to grab onto the top of each tree so that she could loosely tie them together and create a rather charming little archway. “There we go, now just grab onto my hand, close your eyes and walk through that.”

Though it was fairly magical-looking just because of the fact that it was growing out of nowhere in the middle of her room, Anastacia found the whole thing a bit lackluster. Nothing beyond the arch had changed, there was no arcane tingle in the air or shimmer that would have suggested a presence of a portal or a rift, just the other side of her room and the window showing the square outside. “You know, I would have thought there would be some kind of a light show included in this sort of thing… Magic tends to be pretty flashy.”

“There is, you just can’t see it. Try as you might, you’re still a human and unable to see the flow of energy in nature. A forest is never just a forest, every time you enter one, a decision is being made on whether you’re allowed to leave or not. If you’re ever lost in one, it may not be your fault but simply the forest deciding that you should be lost for a while. Everyone has likely blinked at a wrong time under the wrong tree and walked through something like this without knowing, sometimes ending up far from where they were, sometimes not.” The nature spirit explained while gesturing at the arch, as if she was presenting something other than just a couple of small trees. “This one is a little special though, since it was made by yours truly. Normal people wouldn’t even be able to get through it since my kind doesn’t want folks just randomly popping up around mother grove.”

“What makes me abnormal then? Is it because I’m a necromancer?” Asked Anastacia, a bit disheartened by the fact that the only thing special about her would have been the thing she didn’t care for and was simply born with.

The spriggan laughed. “Nothing of the sort! It’s that I’ve… Let’s call it ‘strategically’ shed some pollen on you every now and then – enough for nature to be a bit more tolerant of you than of most people.”

Remembering that Apple, her more magic oriented copy at the bottom of the machine fortress she had visited, had mentioned something similar, Anastacia couldn’t help but to feel itchy because of the apparent layer of pollen on her. “Okay, could you not do that? At least without telling me. It feels a bit… I don’t know, wrong?”

“It does? Of course I’ll stop if it bothers you, but if you’ve ever been outside, you’re just as covered in about a hundred other types of pollen from trees and such. As lewd as I would like it to be, in reality it’s nothing special, mostly just handy.” Xamiliere said, not really understanding the problem her friend had with it.

“It’s special if I say it’s special. You say you’re more civilized than the others but still run about pollinating people without consent. Honestly, you’d be in a lot of trouble if I wasn’t so patient with you.” The necromancer scolded her friend before grabbing her hand and marching through the arch with her eyes closed.

Even before she opened them again, Anastacia could tell that they were no longer in Valor. All detectable life had vanished in an instant, the usual sounds and scents of the inn had changed into to rustling of leaves in the wind and an almost harsh, stinging smell of dozens of different flowers she couldn’t recognize beyond it being distinctively floral in nature. Sickeningly sweet and more potent than any apothecary or alchemist’s laboratory, it would take a moment or two to get used to. Though the temperature was the only immediately pleasant change from the frigid winter Valor was going through, the absolutely overpowering moisture in the air ruined it very quickly. Without a doubt, the place they had arrived in wasn’t meant for humans to get comfortable in. Finally daring to open her eyes and fully expecting yet another assault on her senses in some way, she found herself to be surrounded by a nonsensical combination of plant life from every corner of the world. Immensely tall great sequoia trees from the ancient forests far in the north growing next to equally impressive kapok trees from the deep rainforests of the south and surrounded by the ever so familiar pines and oaks among which Anastacia had spent many summer and autumn days. Fern and cacti growing beautifully side by side without either of them showing signs of growing in a less than perfect climate. Vines draped across the massive branches overhead and the entire ground was covered in a thick layer of soft moss. Interestingly enough, the entire place flourished without a single insect or animal living in it. Anastacia had learned to take that as worrying sign, but there was no aura of dread looming over the area, no threatening presence or even so much as an uncomfortable feeling from the absence of life – this was a sanctuary for flora and nothing more. Standing waist-deep in a medley of undergrowth, the necromancer looked for a path to follow, but there was no such thing to be found, nothing to mark that anyone had ever been there.

“Ahh… This would be such a nice place if it wasn’t filled with noxious assholes!” Xamiliere stated as loudly as she could without yelling, making sure she was heard by anyone in the vicinity. The yellowed shade of the energy in her eyes had already started to heal with her mere presence in the grove and new leaves had started to sprout on the branches atop her head. More interestingly, she started to very slowly sink towards the ground as the magics of the forest wrestled away what control deities had managed to impose on one of its children, and soon enough, her feet firmly touched the ground for the first time in a few months. The spriggan took this opportunity to stretch her wooden body and let out an uncomfortable series of cracks and creaks as it settled to support its regained weight.

“Wait… was that it?” Anastacia asked in disbelief, worrying that she wouldn’t be able to see more of the grove and its inhabitants.

Xamiliere sighed, feeling complete opposite and wishing they could already leave. “No, I would bob right back into the air the second we’d leave. It’s just that in here, the rules of nature outweigh whatever artificial miracle wankery the gods have set up out there. I still need to at the very least replace this crappy body and probably do some other stuff first.” She explained gestured for the necromancer to follow her.

They walked across the mossy forest floor into what seemed like a random direction to Anastacia, passing countless interesting collections of plants growing on the massive trunks of the trees, on large rocks, surfaced roots and fallen branches. Xamiliere always patiently named each one her friends decided to ask about, though sometimes she didn’t know the names people outside had given to them and some of the odder examples no longer grew anywhere else in the world. Despite there being no path to follow, the undergrowth seemed to almost move out of their way so that they didn’t have to step on any of it or cut their way through.

Finally, after maybe half a kilometer of trekking, the spriggan stopped besides a strange tall stone with a single flat side. Though it was covered in plant growth like everything else in the forest, it still stuck out like a sore thumb from the rest of the view. At first Anastacia couldn’t figure out why, though she spotted some worn carvings on the flat side of the rock – until finally it hit her: it was the only thing in the entire forest that was intentionally placed. It wasn’t a piece of a larger rock formation that had crumbled over eons or something that had fallen off an eroded hillside, it was there to convey some message. Taking a closer look at the carvings, she couldn’t make out anything besides it likely having been text at some point but had worn down to nothing but vague indentations in a few straight rows.

“They really should redo this. It was like this even when I left.” Xamiliere scoffed at the rundown state of the single thing in the entire forest that would have required upkeep. “Maybe even do it in a language anyone speaks anymore.”

“What was it?” Anastacia asked while still trying to find even a single familiar letter.

“A warning.” The spriggan said and placed her finger on the first word and began following the nonexistent text with it as she spoke. “Undo what mistake brought you here and leave, for you are not wanted here and do not want to be here. If you insist on carrying on, know your wealth and titles to be worthless here, know your life to be void should you not be able to defend it – and know that past this point, the balance will break you before you can break it.”

Anastacia grew a tad more worried over the quest. “Wow, they really don’t want visitors here, huh?”

“Some elves and other forest folk come about once every few years to voice their concerns over whatever ails their local woods, but that’s it really.” Xamiliere shrugged. “But we’re the original reclusive wankers, Mournvalley must have learned that from us.”

They continued walking past the stone for a few more minutes with no real change in scenery besides from slightly heavier mist hanging between the trees – that is, until they came across an odd mass of tangled branches that had been buried in moss and fern for the most part but still held its shape without collapsing. It seemed to continue far into the distance as a kind of a barrier of wood about five meters wide, slightly less than that in height and likely hundreds of meters long. Stranger yet was that despite having the appearance of discarded branches and roots, none of it was dead. The forest had its share of fallen trees and dead things that were being returned to the earth and taken over by the surrounding plants, but this moss-covered structure was the sole exception.

“Time to announce ourselves.” Xamiliere whispered in a worryingly serious tone.

“To who?” Anastacia whispered back and looked around for anyone or anything, but didn’t see any movement.

Suddenly the ground below them shook and two large and bright balls of energy lit up on the sides of the weird mess of wood they had been looking at. Their color was the same shade of green as Xamiliere’s eyes during summer and quickly spread within the structure, weaving the branches together more tightly, moving them in place and forming a more coherent shape out of the immense bundle of sticks. Roots from nearby trees that had entangled themselves between the branches snapped, saplings and even small trees that had managed to grow on top of it fell over and the moss covering it was shed with a couple of swift movements as what appeared to be an absolutely massive wooden snake-like creature hoisted its head twenty meters above Anastacia and Xamiliere. The green orbs of energy that had initiated its awakening intensified and focused into a pair of glowing reptile-like eyes that immediately focused themselves onto the pair below.

“What the shit is that?” Anastacia whispered nervously in a tone that didn’t at all correspond with the callous and unbothered appearance she was trying to force on herself as per Xamiliere’s advice to not show any weakness to the residents of the grove.

“Regnans! I have business with the grove!” The spriggan yelled at the massive creature, unfazed by its size.

The wooden serpent lowered its cabin-sized head closer to her before speaking in a low voice that thundered across the forest. “Fuck off, houseplant.”

A long silence took over, only broken by the snake’s words still echoing from somewhere far away and finally by Anastacia whispering to her friend once more. “Did… did the giant snake-thing just tell you to ‘fuck off’?”

“Yes, they’re an asshole. I might need your help to convince them to let us pass, so feel free to speak up whenever you’re ready.” Xamiliere whispered back before turning to glare at the snake again. “Let us pass and once I’m done, we will! I have brought a necromancer with me, so please, mind your manners!”

The snake shifted its attention to the necromancer and stared down at her for far too long. “Is that so? It does look like one, but what business would one have with the likes of you, houseplant?” It asked mockingly before addressing Anastacia directly. “The company you keep is not worthy of your time, necromancer, the houseplant has abandoned our purpose and no longer serves the balance – not to mention their shitty attitude and quite frankly appalling fixation to imitate people.”

Anastacia was genuinely annoyed to hear her dear friend being mocked, enough so to get over being scared of the giant creature and speak up. “I would hold my tongue if I were you, the company I choose to keep is not for you to criticize. She has been extremely helpful and a great friend to me, and I won’t have anyone speak ill of her – not unless they wish to answer to me.” She huffed and puffed without flinching.

The snake seemed almost amused by the threat. “She? The madness has gone further it seems… But you, you do carry with you the scent of death and are full of spunk, as a necromancer should, so who might you be and what has brought you here?”

“I am Anastacia, the rightful heiress to the throne of Mournvalley – or Brume, should I choose to one day take the crown.” Anastacia introduced herself with technical truths. “I have been on a mission to learn more of the world, including of the history of our kind. My friend, Xamiliere, has told me there is history between necromancers and spriggans, and I have come to learn of it.”

The snake shook its head lamentingly, making more lumps of moss fall off by Anastacia’s feet. “Then it is as we have feared… People are so fragile. At best you live what, five hundred years? I know it’s something brief like that – but anyway, with fleeting lives comes fleeting memories, and it makes sense that the necromancers simply forgot our covenant, rather than went back on their word. The last ones we dealt with weren’t the type to lie.” It spoke far more softly than before, mostly of things Anastacia had no idea of but ones that interested her immediately. Curiously, every time it said the word ‘people’, there was a definite hint of disdain to be found in its voice. “But who is this… Xamiliere, was it? Another necromancer that still recalls some of our past, or learned it from a book? I know people love their little books for remembering things.”

“What? No, she’s a spriggan.” The necromancer said and pointed at her friend, who had an awkward frown on her face and stared at her feet after losing her defiant posture from before.

“Anna…” Xamiliere whispered before the snake’s bellowing laughter interrupted her.

“Oh wow… Is there no end to your madness, houseplant?” The giant creature ridiculed Xamiliere between bouts of laughter that shook the ground. “You abandon our purpose, mingle among people, pretending to be one in body and spirit... but now you’ve also abandoned your name? For what possible reason would you do that? Did you think changing your name would make you more of a person? That’s it, isn’t it?”

“Shut the fuck up, Regnans… Just shut the fuck up…” Xamiliere pleaded and clenched her fists.

Anastacia had never seen the spriggan let anything get to her in such a manner, but figured that with family things were always different, no matter who you were – but that didn’t mean she would listen to it for much longer as she slowly reached for one of the mostly decorative bone spikes strapped onto her leg.

The giant snake continued to laugh hard enough that its massive body convulsed in the distance, further shaking the ground around it. “Haha… I’m sorry, necromancer, I must apologize for the deceptive nature of your ‘friend’. Trust me when I say that they do not represent our kind any more than a common human represents yours. I don’t know what lies they’ve told you, but for starters, the name isn’t whatever the fuck ‘Xamiliere’ is supposed the be, it’s-“

The creature’s words were cut short by a giant flash of flame and the trunk of one of the gigantic trees by its head exploding into splinters as Anastacia launched one of the spikes at it, along with as much fire as she could conjure in the moment. After the rest of the tree came crashing down, barely missing the snakes head, she extinguished the sleeve of her no doubt horrendously expensive coat and stared directly into the startled creature’s eyes with all the authority she carried but often pretended not acknowledge.

“Interesting. I came here to be taught, but this is very close to turning into a learning experience for you.” She spoke with ice cold words so full of thorns that it would have sent a chill down a spine of beings more powerful than the one before her. “Now then, I trust I won’t be denied entry?”

It was hard to say if the snake was impressed, worried or both, but its laughter had ceased as it took a moment to look at the shattered stump beside it. “No… Carry on as you choose. Your kind is welcome – always has been.” It finally said, meekly in comparison to its earlier thundering voice.

“Outstanding.” Anastacia said, clapped her hands once and started heading into a direction she hoped was where they were heading. “Come on then, Xamiliere, we have stuff to do and things to see.” She added, making sure to glare at the snake while speaking out her friend’s name.

For a few minutes, they headed onwards in silence, though the spriggan did have to correct their course slightly. Being socially inept for the most part, Anastacia didn’t really know what to say and hoped her friend would speak up when she felt like it, but as time passed, she stared to become anxious.

“So… what the fuck was that thing?” The necromancer finally asked and bumped into Xamiliere’s shoulder with her own.

The nature spirit snapped out of her downcast thoughts. “Oh, Regnans? They’re a spriggan.” She answered, clearly thinking that Anastacia would have figured that much out already.

The revelation made Anastacia stop in her tracks. “What?! But it was huge and wormy? I though spriggans were all more like you? All the books I’ve read mentioning them said so.” She asked.

“They take a roughly human shape when guarding other forests because maintaining something bigger is hard far away from here and folks are less likely to mess with something that looks sentient. Not to mention that you only see them when they don’t mind being seen. There are no such limitations here, so some of them grow pretty big over time and look like what comes to them naturally. Regnans grew as a type of ash tree that grows very tall so they ended up being like that after not leaving the grove for hundreds of years.” Xamiliere explained. The topic obviously wasn’t particularly fun for her, but she nonetheless wanted to answer her friend’s questions. “Most of the ones who left the grove for good usually have perfected their shape to fit in with whoever they choose to live with.”

“Doesn’t this Regnans have a forest to look after? Why stay here if that’s their whole deal?” The necromancer inquired.

Xamiliere shook her head. “No, their forest was chopped down entirely, well before I even left. Ever since then they’ve just been there, slowly growing and becoming more of a shit – pretending to guard the grove even though there’s no one to guard it from and no reason for it to need guarding.”

“That sucks…” Muttered the necromancer.

“You’ll be hearing similar stories from others as well, though many have simply disappeared if the lands under their protection were ruined.” Xamiliere shrugged, still down but not particularly bothered by the loss of forests and their guardians.

The pair fell silent again as they crossed the last few hundred paces of the journey to the grove proper, giving Anastacia the chance to pay more attention to the forest around them and the gradual change in it as they progressed. Thick and long roots that didn’t seem to belong to any of the nearby trees emerged from the ground more and more often, eventually limiting the size of the other trees to what one would see in normal forests. The ever-present moss coverage also seemed to avoid them as if out of respect, as did all manners of vines and grasses. The roots had split open large rocks, even moved them out of the way in places, confirming the direction they were growing from, but their origin still remained a mystery. Over their journey, Anastacia had slowly started to become more used to the climate and odor of the forest as well, and started to find it fairly pleasant place to be, especially compared to the cold and windy winter streets of Valor she had come from.

The moment Xamiliere spotted a more brightly lit area directly in front of them, suggesting a clearing of some kind, she stopped to gather herself. “Let’s take a break here, we won’t get one if we continue much further.” She suggested.

“Finally!” The necromancer howled and fell on her back into the soft moss on the spot. “Gil said I’d grow to like it, but walking is still crap.”

Xamiliere chuckled faintly. “Is that so? I find it quite nice after floating about for months.” She said and fell on her back as well next to Anastacia. “Hey, Anna.”

“What’s up?” The necromancer asked and peered at the sky from between the treetops.

“Nothing. Just, you know, thanks.” The nature spirit whispered.

“For what?” Asked Anastacia, not thinking she had done anything particularly noteworthy.

Xamiliere grabbed the necromancer’s hand. “Doing the thing back there. I expected Regnans to be a shit, but being back here after all this time, having to come here because nothing out there could help… It makes me wonder if they’re right. No matter what I say, this is where my kind ultimately belongs. Being out there makes us weaker, returning here heals us. Everything in Valor, including my guys as well as you, will be gone in what will seem like a blink of an eye afterwards, but this place will still be here… Am I just going to return here in the end because there will be nothing left for me out there?”

“Hard to say, I’m pretty dumb with that sort of stuff – But I can burn this place down so it won’t be here to bother you.” Anastacia suggested, lifted up her free arm and flicked a tiny ball of fire towards the sky.

“Even I have no idea what that would do in the grand scale of things… Let’s call it plan B.” The spriggan smirked briefly before turning more serious again. “But you know what I’m saying though, right? In the end, all I’m doing is pretending to be, as they say, a person. Nothing is ever going to make me not be a wooden doll being moved around by a spark of forest magic, is it? I can tweak my appearance all I want, wear clothes, give myself all the names I can come up with and behave in a civilized manner for thousands of years, but I’ll still be just like them and nothing more.”

Anastacia flopped over among the underbrush to somewhat uncomfortably lay her head on top of the spriggan’s stomach and silently listened to the calming lack of sloshing and splashing that was always going on in mortal bodies for a while. “I don’t think you’re as like them as you or they seem to think. First of all, this ‘purpose’ nonsense is all just crap. There was a time my ‘purpose’ was to sit by an ancient skeleton and look pretty, that didn’t go too well, did it? If there is such a thing as purpose for anyone, surely, it’ll be something you’d find on your own and not something some random asshole can decide for you? I can tell a shoe its purpose is to be a hat, and even if I can fit it on my head, it’d be a shitty hat no matter how hard I insisted on it being one – and well, you’re a pretty shit spriggan, no matter how hard they insist and even if you can do what one does.” She explained the best she could.

Xamiliere picked one of the lilies that happened to grow within reach and gently weaved it into the necromancer’s hair while she spoke. “I guess that’s one way to look at it, and does sound better. You nailed the ‘looking pretty’-part of your supposed purpose though.”

“As for who you are, to me it seems pretty dumb to decide that based on what you are. I am the same as every single one of the red inquisitors we had to get rid of back then. All of them and I have the same thing wrong with us which allows us to make dead things go all wiggly – all of us were human too, but is that who I also am? Just another nutjob like them. If who I am is predetermined by what I am – fuck, let’s just give up, I guess? Then we should just lay down here until I die or start killing folks for fun because apparently that’d be who I am.” Anastacia continued rambling as more flowers were added into her hair. “If that turned out to be the case, you’d also know that they were right all along and you’re just like them.”

“Point taken.” The spriggan said and smiled. She didn’t know if there was any basis for what her friend was saying, but it did make her feel more reassured about things she had worried over before and after returning to the grove.

Anastacia flopped around a bit more until she was able to get up and sit on top of the spriggan. “Besides, I have far more concrete evidence that they aren’t at all the same as you.” She stated confidently.

Xamiliere frowned. “And what might that be?” She asked, genuinely curious if the necromancer knew something she didn’t.

“Despite being a spriggan, that Regnans or whatever did absolutely nothing for me. I guess they were a giant snake thing, but still… just not even a little.” Anastacia shrugged nonchalantly. “We’ll see how things go with the rest though.”

Shocked by what she had just heard and its implications, Xamiliere could only blankly stare at the sky. “That… certainly is a thing that you just said out loud to me.” She uttered.

The necromancer stuck her tongue out, grinned and leaned over to block her friend’s view. “Maybe this place is making me less ‘civilized’ as well?”