Making a second attempt at resting for a moment before they would inevitably have to deal with even more pushy nature spirits, Anastacia and Sorbus lazed around on top of the rock they had found and took turns asking questions from one another.

“So what is it that you spriggans do exactly?” Anastacia asked on her turn. “I know you supposedly protect nature, but what does that even mean? Do you fight loggers and hunters or something?”

“Sometimes, but it less of a fight and more that they never leave the forest again.” Sorbus shrugged. “If you want to be a pain in the ash, you could say that our job isn’t to protect nature, it’s to protect the balance. It just so happens that nature is the part of it that needs protecting because of people’s fuckery. This whole operation is based on the idea that there is enough of everything for everyone as long as everyone only takes what they need, which was the case for a good while, even after people happened. There used to be all kinds of ancient beasties that kept people in check, so that none of your villages grew too much and you could get by with a bit of wood and land just fine. These days there’s just way too many people and everything’s out of balance, so we just kind of salvage what we can.”

“Oh… Sorry.” The necromancer apologized on behalf of people.

Sorbus laughed. They didn’t even really seem to blame anyone for the state of things and simply spoke of things as they were. “I’ve had naps longer than your life so far, I don’t think you’ve had much to do with it. If anything, you necromancers have a tendency to take out more people than you bring into the world.”

Anastacia could hardly disagree. Despite her relative pacifism compared to the rest of her kind, she had an above average number of lives taken on her conscience when it came to people in general, and then there were the likes of Coquelicot who had likely sent hundreds, if not thousands of people into early graves – so far.

Before asking a question in return, Sorbus took a quick look at the surroundings to make sure they were alone and lowered their voice. “So… Is Xamiliere… Do other people… How do… Are people afraid of her?” They hesitated to ask.

“No? Why would anyone be afraid of her?” Anastacia wondered. “She’s a bit intense, but that just annoys some people, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone be afraid of her.”

“Oh...” Sorbus muttered, sounding relieved for some reason. “So I could just go and talk to someone and they wouldn’t be scared off?”

The necromancer frowned. “Well, I think part of it is presentation to be entirely honest. There’s a bit of a difference between running into her in a city and you just appearing from the woods like that. Xammy is probably better at being a person than I am, and is… easy on the eyes – at least in my opinion. You look like some kind of a cursed wad of branches in comparison.” She gave her opinion on the matter. “Are you going to tell me what’s up?”

“Nope.” Said the spriggan immediately while staring at their body. “I thought this was pretty good though. Do we really look so different?”

“It’s passable on a brief glance, but you’ve only focused on the overall shape and not how it looks. I guess in your cute little fox form it doesn’t matter as much since you have all the fake fur to hide the actual body, but if you’re trying to look like a human, you’ve got to learn some anatomy to pull it off in a non-creepy way. You see, there’s a reason why we look like we do, a bunch of muscles, fat, joints and other bits that make us move in a particular way.” Anastacia explained and moved her arm and fingers as an example. “Xammy has probably spent years trying to figure it out and only looks so natural because her body is very close to a wooden copy of a human one.”

Sorbus groaned in frustration. “Why is everything such a damn hassle?! Where am I supposed to get a human body for reference?!” They exclaimed and stared at their own arms, hopelessly comparing them to the necromancer’s. “Wait a minute… You have a human body!”

Anastacia sighed. “I am this human body. Consider what you’re about to say very, very carefully before you say it. I know a thing or two about bodies, so I don’t mind helping you where I can-“

The spriggan did not consider anything before speaking and interrupting the necromancer. “Ah! But you are mine, so technically I have a human body!” They declared and grabbed Anastacia’s arm. Starting from the shoulder and slowly moving down towards the fingers, Sorbus bent and moved each joint to see their full range of motion while slowly altering their own wooden arm to match it in shape and function. Over time, the wiry and bendy branches turned into more hardened and sturdy ones, emulating the skeletal structure as accurately as the necromancer could explain it to the spriggan. Once Sorbus was satisfied with the semblance, broader growths of smooth bark branched out from the fake bones to loosely resemble skin in places where they wouldn’t block the newly grown joints from working.

The necromancer congratulated herself for showing such patience towards the spriggan while being blissfully ignorant to the fact that she herself was far worse when it came to personal space whenever she ran into new simulacra.

“What’s the point of this smaller finger at the end here? It’s a bit crap compared to the other four.” Sorbus asked and wiggled their pinkie, hoping they had missed something obvious about it.

“As far as I can tell, it’s just there because it fits in your ear better than the others.” Anastacia answered the best she could and slapped the spriggan’s hand away as they were trying to test out the theory with the nearest ear available.

“Alright, what’s next then… There’s this whole torso thing here where animals and people keep all their important bits, right? I’ve always wondered if they’ll fall out if you don’t wrap them with leather, metal and cloth – never seen a person without clothes and even Xamiliere has some on. Certainly feels stupid enough for the gods to come up with something like that.” The spriggan said and gestured towards the necromancer’s chest and stomach.

Intrigued by why the spriggan seemed to care so much and hoping to later find out, Anastacia indulged her guide with an explanation. “No, they won’t fall out. It’s just that we really don’t want to get hit there on the account of the whole important bits being in there. So when folks are out and about, it’s one of the more important parts to protect, not to mention how much heat you lose if you don’t cover it when it’s cold out.”

Sorbus flicked the unbuttoned top of Anastacia’s black leather vest and peered at the vanishingly thin shirt under it judgingly. “I don’t think this is going to protect you from much of anything.”

“We figured there wouldn’t be need for armor here, these are just normal clothes.” Anastacia said, using a very loose interpretation of the word ‘normal’.

“It’s not cold here either, so why are you wearing that?” The spriggan asked, immensely puzzled by the concept of clothing and only knowing the bare minimum about them. “You already took off the top layer too!”

“I still have to look presentable; I am royalty after all.” The necromancer shrugged. “And people have very divided opinions about not wearing clothes in public, so even if I didn’t particularly mind, it usually isn’t worth the trouble.”

“But there’s no people here…” Sorbus stated confusedly.

Anastacia stared at the glowing green eyes, behind which a possibly slightly lacking mind was working overtime to comprehend the intricacies of mortal life, and refused to admit that Sorbus had a point. Indeed, no one in the grove expected anyone to wear clothes, and her status was no longer under question so the original purpose of the outfit hardly mattered anymore. If anything, it was still uncomfortably hot for a leather vest and popping open one more button on it was refreshing. Weighing her options, the necromancer was reminded of one more factor that ultimately stopped her from shedding more of her outfit. “I shouldn’t make things too easy for Xammy…” She muttered embarrassedly, now half-convinced that the stuffiness of her costume was part of a plan by her friend.

“People sure are weird about pointless things…” Sorbus marveled at the decision they didn’t understand in the slightest. “But are you saying that if I were to meet a person, I should have clothes on?” They suddenly asked.

“Yes, no, maybe? Depends?” The necromancer shrugged, unable to give a good answer without knowing more, but also seeing a chance to get the spriggan to fess up on the reason for their curiosity. “I would have to know the details first.”

“No, no you wouldn’t.” Sorbus immediately dropped the subject. “Anyway, what’s next? Legs, they’re kind of like arms, just footier, right?”

Still getting nowhere and starting to get a bit annoyed over the secrecy despite playing along so far, Anastacia started to feel a bit less patient. “Why don’t you just do all of this with Xamiliere once she comes back? She’s the one who has had to do all of this before, I just grew up like this.” She suggested and turned away from the spriggan.

Sorbus seemed to ponder the idea for a while before saying anything. “She isn’t going to help me. Xamiliere despises us all, likely more than anyone here despises her – maybe for a reason, maybe not.” They lamented, at least sounding very genuinely bothered by the rift between the spriggans of the grove and Xamiliere.

“Now that you mention it, why is it that you don’t openly mock her like the others? You call her by name too, and as far as I can tell, without derision. Were you like friends or something once upon a time, before things got ugly?” Anastacia finally asked bluntly about one of the curiously things she had noticed about her guide.

“Not at all! We’ve hardly spoken considering the time we’ve both spent here, I’m almost surprised she knows my name.” Sorbus was quick to deny such accusations. “I just don’t think any of it matters to us. Trees grew, flowers bloomed and fruits were sweet before she was a she or Xamiliere, just like they do now, so why the fuck would I care? Sure, she abandoned her duty to the balance and that can’t be forgiven, that’s like the biggest no no we have – like seriously, there’s not going to be any more of us, so we can’t replace anyone who leaves… But that’s beside the point! I’ve been lurking in the underbrush for a long time now, seen things, heard things, tasted things, and I know what happened before she left!”

Though she probably shouldn’t have pried into things about her friend’s past without asking her first, Anastacia couldn’t help herself. “What do you mean?” She asked and moved back closer to the spriggan, hoping they would keep the conversation at least slightly secret.

“Ask any of the wise and ancient fucks here about it and they’ll give you their version of what happened. She started buddying up with people, got tempted by their lifestyle, abandoned her one job in this world and tried to become a person – which is WRONG! I was there, in the underbrush, trying to plant shit with clumsy fox paws!” The spriggan announced, not bothering to be any more discreet than before. “For decades, maybe more than that, she would hang onto the shape she used in the outside world, but didn’t dare to approach the inner grove in it and mostly kept to herself in the outer reaches. When she finally did approach the knotheads here, they mocked her for it and made sure she couldn’t get a moment of peace anymore, even in the outskirts. So, it was them who first drove her to stay in the outside world more than here, and I don’t think it’s hard to fall in love with a place where you aren’t constantly being shat on for no real reason.”

“No, no it is not.” The necromancer agreed. Hearing such an amount of insight from the half-witted spriggan was a surprise to say the least. “But why are you leaving yourself out of all this? Being indifferent to someone’s suffering isn’t much better than being complicit, if there is a difference at all.”

“I’m just a fox with a reputation for being dense, what I say or do doesn’t really matter to anyone here.” Said the spriggan and laughed dryly.

Anastacia sighed. “It would have mattered to her.”

Making no efforts to defend themselves, Sorbus stayed silent while starting to alter their other hand to make it mirror the more anatomically accurate one. Them being unversed in showing emotions on their new face, Anastacia had a hard time reading what the spriggan was thinking but she at least thought they were feeling slightly guilty for what had happened. She knew standing up to the wise and powerful wasn’t easy at all, but having spent years imprisoned while being publicly paraded around as The Anchor, and only receiving help from anyone as a coverup for a revolution, Anastacia had very little patience for indifferent onlookers.

“Is she, you know… happy? With people, I mean.” Sorbus quietly asked.

The necromancer gave her guide a pat on the back. “Ask her, not me – but I’m very happy she’s with us.” She whispered and pointed at Xamiliere, who had finally gotten the answers she wanted from Ulmus and tracked the pair down – mostly just by seeing where the more curious nature spirits were looking at from the distance.

Xamiliere kicked the pieces of wood left over from Baccata’s body and stepped onto the slab of ice slowly melting in the pond by the rock. “What happened here, and why does Sorbus look like that now?”

“Baccata was being a thorny dick so we showed them what’s what!” Sorbus reported proudly, making sure to take part of the glory and tuning their mood completely around in a blink of an eye.

“Really? I would have loved to see that… Is everything okay, Anna?” Xamiliere asked while obviously judging Sorbus’ new shape for its mediocrity.

Anastacia overdramatically threw herself down on her back and pretended to be lightheaded while making sure to display the scrapes on her arm she had already almost forgotten. “I was grievously wounded in the heat of the battle! I’m not sure I can carry on any longer, this might be it for me!” She exclaimed in obvious fake distress. “I may perish unless someone takes care of my injuries.”

“I’ll mend them, o valiant hero!” Xamiliere immediately played along. She then kneeled by Anastacia, moved the necromancer’s head on her lap and gave the wounded arm a gentle kiss.

“I am saved!” Anastacia laughed and held her friend’s arm while gazing up at her. Their stay in the grove, even in just the few hours that had passed, had already massively reinvigorated Xamiliere’s body and the spirit within. Her eyes burned much brighter green than ever before, and the thick, dark bark had started to peel off in places to reveal the usual light brown one. More fresh leaves had started to sprout here and there where her basic and worn outfit wasn’t in the way, but particularly on her head, tuning the dry branches into an impressive mane of green.

Slowly continuing their little play, the two lost themselves into the moment, completely forgetting their surroundings, including the third wheel sitting right by them. After having dealt with Ulmus for a while, Xamiliere was more than glad to tune out the rest of the world and rest with Anastacia, who had already done her fair share of resting, but was never going to say no to being pampered. They exchanged what little updates they had in as few words as they possibly could, as to not distract themselves from the pleasant moment they were having. Ulmus had told Xamiliere, that the first method to rid herself of the curse they should attempt was to simply stay in the grove for a day or so, after which they would see if more drastic measures were needed, such as entirely regrowing her body from a sapling within the grove.

“You know, this place sucks, but I have to admit that you look good after a bit of a tumble in the woods… Most look good in nice dresses and fabulous hairdos, but you’re more in your own with sticks stuck in your hair and a few tears in your clothes.” Xamiliere said and picked a leaf out of Anastacia’s hair, which had been there ever since the laborious journey to Ulmus. “Or, maybe I’m just weird.”

The necromancer smiled. “Well, you’re in luck then. I enjoy tumbling in the woods quite a bit – and do it quite often.” She said, grabbed a tiny shrub that grew from a patch of moss in a crack of the rock they had made their camp on and stuck it in her hair just so the spriggan could take it out after a while.

Not particularly happy about being forgotten entirely, but still fascinated by what was going on next to them, Sorbus had kept silent out of sheer curiosity for a while. However, seeing yet another occupant of the grove approach made them speak out since it seemed like it was worth Anastacia’s attention. “Hey, so… is this going to turn into fuckin’? Because… uh…” She half whispered and pointed towards the new arrival.

Disappointedly snapping back to reality, Anastacia turned towards the same spot Baccata had appeared in, but instead of a massive wolf, there now sat a cat. Not much bigger than a hefty normal house cat, but entirely formed from a mess of thin and thorny branches that were in constant movement, pushed around by the green energy that gave life to the nature spirits, like a knot that kept trying to open itself but never could.

“Do I have to fight you?” The necromancer tiredly asked and considered getting up but didn’t yet commit to it.

“Answer the question, necromancer.” The cat spoke with a tone filled with jest, mockery, trickery and every other sign of untrustworthiness that existed in the world. As the words resounded from within the spirit, a flash of the green energy briefly formed a vile grin far wider than the cat’s head.

“What?” Anastacia frowned and glanced at each of the three expectant stares directed at her. “No!”

For reasons more obvious for one than the other two, all three spirits sighed disappointedly.

“What a shame, what a shame, what a shame.” The cat chortled and slowly waved their thorny tail. The thorns in their body tore apart the bark of the massive root they happened to be sitting on, as if they were made of steel. “But no, I’m above whatever foolish contest in knot-headedness the saplings have come up with to bother you. As you should already know, I am Acacia, hunter of gods. Ulmus told us of your arrival and we’ve decided to hold a nice little meeting to see where our relations stand these days. The other two are lumbering in their approach to say the least, so there’s still some time for you and the houseplant to go at it like them rabbits do.”

Unlike Regnans and Baccata, who had been threatening largely thanks to their oppressive size, Acacia was of a completely different sort – far, far, far worse. Despite the small stature, the cat’s presence made Regnans seem like a pesky worm and Baccata a mere pup. Each word spoken by them was both spoken in jest but at the same time had the feeling of a threat made at someone’s life and no matter where their body was looking, it felt like their uninterrupted gaze was burning a hole through you. Anastacia could swear that she even saw several pairs of glowing green eyes sneering at her from the darkness when she blinked.

“No, thank you.” The necromancer said, testing the absolute limits of her bravery and belief in her abilities. “If there is a meeting I am to attend, that doesn’t feel appropriate.”

“Tough luck, eh, houseplant? Well, keep on trying, I have immense faith in you.” Acacia said and flopped on their side on top of the root, slowly carving a dent into it with the thorns. “Would’ve been mighty nifty though, think the most intimate our kinds have ever gotten was that time I bit that one lad’s hand. What was his name… Alba… Alabaster? That sounds right, no? Kind of a short guy, hardly had any meat on his bones, very serious but couldn’t take his eyes off the other one. Bit of a bumbly piece of work but did get around doing all kinds of stuff from what I remember…”

As Acacia rambled on, Anastacia quietly turned to the two spriggans by her. “When they say ‘hunter of gods’…” She whispered.

“Three of them.” Confirmed Xamiliere.

“It’s four now.” Sorbus corrected the count.

“SORBUS BORBUS ADORBUS!” The cat suddenly exclaimed. “I almost didn’t recognize you in that fancy new getup! How has the world been treating my little foxy thing?”

Despite the completely paralyzing aura of Acacia, neither Sorbus nor Xamiliere seemed all too nervous in their presence. If anything, Xamiliere was a lot less agitated than when they had first met Ulmus.

“Strong uptick on that recently, the necromancer is mine and a few berries I took into that glade I was working on started to spread nicely.” Sorbus reported cheerily. “Oh, and I got hands now! Check this out!” They boasted and wiggled their now correctly-jointed fingers.

“A-mazing!” Acacia laughed and waved their thorny paws back at Sorbus. “And what of you, houseplant? Have you found a good pot to sit in, or perhaps an entire garden? Think Ulmus said something about a curse but honestly my mind starts to roam free only a few seconds into any conversation with them… Like, we’re all immortal here, but I’m pretty sure listening to that mossy know-it-all takes years off my life!”

“A god cursed her!” Sorbus eagerly blurted out, something which by the look on Xamiliere’s face, she would have rather left unmentioned.

The bright green slits of light in Acacia’s eyes flared out and intensified as two more pairs opened above them, as well as a seventh, unpaired eye above the other six. The thorns on their body grew longer and new branches started to break out from the feline silhouette. “…And do tell, which of those audacious otherworldly shits dared to lay a hand on one of ours? You might be a no-good nutjob of a spirit, but a spirit nonetheless – and I don’t particularly appreciate them overstepping their boundaries. So spell out the name of the divine dumb fuck so that I may return the favor…” They hissed in words that somehow seemed poisonous just to hear. As they spoke, the thorns began spreading outside of their body, sprouting from the root under them, from the grass and clovers on the ground and even from the splinters left over from Baccata’s broken body.

Xamiliere was fully aware who Vilja was and didn’t know why she had been cursed, but she was also aware of the goddess’ affiliation with the deity one of her friends served, and so she chose to lie to stop things from escalating. “Didn’t catch the name, probably some unimportant two-bit deity that’s not worth anyone’s time.” She shrugged.

The spreading thorns quickly wilted as Acacia’s extra eyes faded. “Oh… Full of disappointments, this day.” They scoffed. “These last few years have been far too quiet for my liking; you shouldn’t get my hopes up like that. Sure, we did have that thing with the violet whatevers, but the big one got away and I’ve had root rot more vicious than the chumps they left behind.”

A shiver ran down Anastacia’s spine at the mention of the color violet and she instinctively grasped onto Xamiliere’s hand. “Excuse me, did you say something about violet? It wouldn’t happen to be the violet sect?” She asked worriedly. Not really knowing what the nature spirits were about in the grand scale of things, but being aware of their disdain for people and outright hate for gods, she was concerned that they might actually lend an ear to the corrupting offers the sect seemed to be giving to just about anyone worth noting.

“Yeah, yeah! Those fellows! Do you know them?” Asked Acacia, tuning back down from the furious tone from before and returning to the usual threatening playfulness.

“I’ve clashed with them on a couple of occasions. They laid their hand on what is mine and chose to ignore the warning I gave, so we’ve moved past diplomacy.” The necromancer explained her brief history with the sect. “Do not listen to a word they say, they have nothing but ruin to offer.”

“The big one actually brought up a couple of interesting points, and it’s not like they were wrong about there being an eventual end to everything.” The cat grinned, clearly having read the situation and intentionally worrying Anastacia for a moment. “But they had no taste for balance, no better than the gods really. Nothing but puny little mortals thinking they’ve got it all figured out just because they’ve figured out a couple of nifty tricks and got a swanky color theme.”

Relieved that good sense seems to have prevailed, Anastacia released her nervous grasp from the spriggan’s hand. “And? From my experience, they don’t take declining their offer all too well.”

“We respectfully agreed to disagree, so we tore them apart, gross little limb by gross little limb.” Acacia purred menacingly. “Not really sure why, but the big one just wouldn’t die, and we couldn’t have their kind ruining the scenery here, so we let them flee. The bodies were unfit to even be used as fertilizer so we tossed those out before they started to stink… more than they already did.”

Anastacia stood up on the rock and tried to look as dignified as possible. “Well, I may not know what old agreement our kinds may have had, but it is nice to hear there is at least this we still agree on.” She happily said and slightly nodded to Acacia, figuring that bowing probably wasn’t a good look when dealing with the nature spirits. “Now, what about this meeting you spoke of?”

“Oh! Right! Ulmus should get here soon enough, but Picea was only just waking up when we got the message, so it might still be a while.” Acacia estimated while measuring the worth of the necromancer before them, now that she was no longer huddled by Xamiliere. “You’ve still got time, if you know what I mean.”