Not much after Acacia’s appearance, Ulmus also dragged their ancient body from the place they had been resting in for several months and joined the others by the rock Anastacia was camping on. Very clearly annoyed by having to move, the elk glared at everyone else, including the cat they themselves had contacted, with roughly equal amounts of exhausted contempt. While Acacia seemed quite delighted with the chance to speak with such a variety of folks at once during the wait, it was hard to get more than a couple of words out of Ulmus at first. As they patiently waited for the third of the spriggans with some vague amount of control over the others to arrive, Sorbus made use of their new form to collect mostly edible fruits from whatever trees happened to be growing by the edge of the forest nearby to offer them to Anastacia.

“You two should probably scram before Picea gets here. They were told they would meet a necromancer and you know how much of a curmudgeon they are with… stuff.” Acacia suddenly addressed Xamiliere and Sorbus. “They prefer things as they were, a long time ago.”

Xamiliere was unsure about the suggestion. “I can’t just leave Anastacia alone with you three.” She said despite absolutely not being eager to meet the last member of the trio herself.

“Sure you can, or do you not have faith in your little friend? Don’t believe she can stand on her own?” Acacia teased her with the usual haunting grin on her face. “We aren’t beasts, she will be fine.”

“Beasts is exactly what you are – or worse.” Xamiliere scoffed and grasped onto Anastacia’s shoulder.

Ulmus sighed out of frustration. “The cat speaks the truth – for once. None of us want the necromancer to be harmed, but the fire that burns in her will put her at odds with Picea if you stay here. I have the good sense to not say what I want to, Acacia doesn’t care enough to say what they should, but Picea would not hold their words if they were to see you or whatever idiocy Sorbus is up to this time – and the necromancer would turn it from mockery into a fight.” They reasoned, making it clear with their tone that they were speaking out of convenience rather than care over anyone’s fate.

“They’re not wrong, I’d turn this place into a crater if I had to listen to any more of it.” Admitted the necromancer without hesitation. She took Xamiliere’s hand from her shoulder squeezed it between hers. “I’ll be fine, we knew I’d have to do something like this anyway. Why don’t you two go and figure out the rest of Sorbus’ body?”

Still hesitant but knowing that what was being said was probably true, Xamiliere gave the other spirits one more stern look to evaluate their goals. She held no fond memories of Picea and knew exactly how quickly their meeting would turn into a brawl, even without Anastacia. Reluctantly, she gave the necromancer’s hand one more kiss and proceeded to push Sorbus off the rock to get them to follow her into the treeline where they would still be somewhat within earshot but not in sight.

Anastacia wasn’t really any more enthusiastic about being separated but played brave for everyone’s benefit. While she was somewhat used to Ulmus, Acacia still made her extremely uncomfortable in a way she had rarely felt before – the closest comparison she could come up with was the first time she saw Nirmaata. Despite not knowing what exactly it was that she was facing or the intentions the beast may have had, something in her knew that she was face to face with something that had hunted beings much more powerful than her since the beginning of time – dread for something that didn’t quite belong in the world anymore. However, the worst part was that Acacia was almost certainly aware of this and wouldn’t stop tormenting her with a menacing stare.

Choosing to address Ulmus rather than the nightmarish cat, Anastacia asked a question she had pondered ever since the matter of the meeting was brought up. “Are you three like the leaders of this place or something? Or why is it exactly that you think its up to you to have this gathering with me?”

The spriggans glanced at each other to decide who would answer before Ulmus spoke. “Our kind has no need for leaders or hierarchy in general. Unlike people, whose goals and purposes change faster than the seasons, we all share the same one and it has never changed. Each spirit is free to pursue it as they see fit, and what disagreements there are, can be solved by force.” They briefly explained. “As immortals, there’s very little to live for other than the present. So, the three of us simply happen to be the ones who both remember and care about the covenant we had so far in the past, were present for it back then and are available now. Simple as that.”

“Ah! But I do have to say that we are the most appropriate ones, in my not at all humble opinion!” Acacia added. “Picea, knotty fucker as they are, remembers well what we once stood for, before all this business with people. You, Ulmus, have gathered much of what we know from then until now… and I, well I see a bright future for our kind – perhaps with the aid of this here necromancer we’ve found!”

Anastacia nodded. “What kind of things will we be covering then? I have to remind you that there’s a limit to even my influence and there are things I can’t promise.” She asked, mostly worried that she would have to go into actual politics while lying about representing a nation and people she hated, and who mostly hated her.

“Oh, worry not your little head. Our matters aren’t as concrete as mortal dealings tend to be. It’ll simply be a general overview of the current happenings, and likely a lesson in history for you. Likely nothing will be decided, and what will, won’t really require anything out of you.” Acacia chortled mischievously. “Though there is a massively important matter we have to discuss, something that needs resolving before anything else can even be considered! Why is it that you and the houseplant haven’t bumped uglies yet?”

“They haven’t?” Ulmus joined in on the already farcical conversation. “That’s not at all the reading I got from them. How boring.”

“Why are we back on this topic?” Groaned the necromancer, expecting her protests to amount to nothing no matter what she said.

“Because it’s extremely fascinating to us, and hilarious. I could come up with hundreds of questions, but the most pressing one still is ‘why not?’ The houseplant is expressing an amount of restraint that I didn’t know our kind could even muster, and so are you, but there is something else. I can see your eyes and mind wander into unlit places when they’re around. The spark is there, but you choose to suffocate it.” Acacia analyzed what they could see from atop the root they stared down from. “The knots you mortals choose to bed your minds into is simply astonishing. Assigning meaning to where there doesn’t need to be any, burning days, weeks, even years off your pathetically short lives fighting nothing but your own reasoning.”

Ulmus nodded agreeingly. “But to me the interesting part is where does the intrigue come from in the first place? From either side, I might add. Our bodies are no different from any of the trees uninhabited by a greater spirit, sparsely able to even feel touch, there is no reason for the houseplant to pursue this. Not to mention the difference in timescale, being invested in a single mortal is like a mortal being hopelessly infatuated with a falling leaf. Blink and it will be over, blink again and the time it lasted is too insignificant to even remember.” The elk pondered, also seemingly genuinely interested in what was going on despite the aloofness around Xamiliere. “On the other side, there is a freak of nature of equal measure, a mortal enamored with a force of nature. Or is it simply the shape that allures you? If that’s the case, why hesitate?”

“Have you grown arrogant over the years, Ulmus?” Acacia intervened before Anastacia had a chance to tell the two how incredibly none of their business the subject was. “Simply because you do not understand something doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. There is attraction beyond just horniness, you absolute stump. There are all sorts of poetic feelings that don’t have to make sense! If anything, the immortality of one and the transience of the other makes it all the more magical, if you ask me. Besides, do you seriously not get even a tingle in your soul when seeing someone willing to fight the likes of us simply for the dignity of their beloved?”

“Maybe I just don’t have a thing for foolishness?” The elk mockingly suggested.

During a brief lull in the conversation, a faint noise of metal rattling against metal broke the silence. Rhythmically clanking, the noise slowly approached them from the distance. Metal seemed to be rare or almost nonexistent in the grove, so it immediately struck the necromancer as odd, but the nature spirits seemed to recognize it and it made them halt their previous conversation. For what felt like an eternity, the noise continued to move closer and closer, among the roots, until finally a nature spirit in the form of a large tortoise appeared. About the size of the rock Anastacia was standing on, so large enough for three people fit on comfortably, the spriggan would have been somewhat imposing, but the lack of speed really took the edge off from their appearance. The ancient age of their body was visible from not only the layers upon layers of moss and a few pine saplings growing atop their wooden shell, but also an array of rusted weaponry stuck on their shell. Snapped spears and arrows, axe heads that had lost their handles ages ago as well as swords so old that they were nothing but rusty and bent remnants of blades without hilts. One of the swords had worked itself slightly loose and now clanged against another on each step the tortoise took, causing the noise from earlier. Not bothering to greet anyone, they slowly lumbered to the opposite side of the rock from both Acacia and Ulmus, so that now the three of them entirely surrounded the necromancer.

After a lazy glance at Anastacia, Picea finally spoke. “Is this what now passes as a necromancer? A lousy whelp with the aura of a fieldmouse. Last time I saw one, they could have made nations bow with their sheer presence – this one would face opposition from a beansprout.”

Anastacia took a deep breath, similarly glanced at the tortoise before turning to Ulmus. “Is this what now passes as a spriggan? A bug-ridden bit of wet timber. Here I thought your kind were supposed to be formidable, but this one might rot into mulch if someone doesn’t do something to help.”

While the elk neither approved or disapproved talking back at Picea, Acacia had no intention to hide their amusement and burst into laughter, delighted that the necromancer they had found wasn’t a pushover.

“A sharp tongue is still there, I suppose.” The tortoise admitted less harshly.

“Don’t be so quick to judge, Picea. This one carries the marks of many curious encounters from times long past. Surely you remember the crafty muses, ingenious aureun and the fiends that once held all mortals in fear? She has faced all of that, just the same as the necromancers of old. If anything, it’s impressive that she’s still in one piece with only a part of the might they once held.” Acacia revealed knowledge of things they absolutely shouldn’t have known. “Even the wolf pup, Kipouros, has given passage to her.”

“If you say so, but Sir Alabaster she is not.” Picea begrudgingly agreed that Anastacia happened to have an unusual amount of experience about beings from ancient days.

“I think this might be the other one, mostly anyway.” Ulmus theorized. “With the messy way the souls of mortals are handled by those incompetent fools, asking the souls to remain intact for thousands of years would be ridiculous. If I had to give it a guess, there is maybe a fifth of Alabaster and the rest is the less intense one – can’t rightly recall the name.”

“I suppose that might be the case.” The tortoise nodded. “But what does that mean in terms of the curse? Fates decreed the other one to die, did they not? Is she supposed to just mostly die? I don’t think that’s how dying works.”

Acacia smirked. “She has already died. The curse is fulfilled on her part. Isn’t that right, necromancer?”

Not really able to follow the conversation anymore, Anastacia simply answered the question. “Yes, I’ve died. Seemed like a bore so I didn’t stick with it.”

“Ah, there’s Sir Alabaster.” Picea nodded approvingly and lowered their shell onto the ground. “But where might the other parts of both of them be? Tell us, necromancer, is there a second one of your kind, almost of equal measure?”

“None comes to mind.” Anastacia shrugged without putting much thought into the whole thing, she was already lying about her place in the world and mentioning names seemed like it would only lead to disaster.

Ulmus sighed disappointedly. “Well, I would keep an eye out if I were you. I doubt there is much coincidence in you ending up here after all these years – but we really should move on to the matter at hand instead of theorizing pointlessly.” They declared and stomped on the ground to gather everyone’s attention. “I suggest that we begin by bringing the necromancer up to speed with our past covenant. Picea, if you would.”

The tortoise spent a moment reminiscing and making sure they remembered everything important before speaking out. “In the times of the old, after the fading of the primordial night and the ascension of the first gods, a covenant between Alabaster the White and his necromancers, and the mother grove was made. In exchange for ceasing hostilities against the expanding mortal population for their part in hindering the balance, as well as access to what knowledge we had, the world was divided in thirds. One third for the untamed seas, one third for the preservation of balance, and one third for mortals under his rule. This, for a time halted the spread of people and created peace between our kind and mortals.”

It was for sure the first time Anastacia had ever heard of such an agreement, and likely the first time for any living necromancer at all. None of the teachers or even tomes hidden in the libraries of Mournvalley mentioned the nature spirits in a particularly positive light, and at best they were to be ignored. “I assume things are no longer shared as equally? This is not something I’ve ever heard about back home, so I doubt it has been enforced on our part for a good while now. Not to mention such an agreement is no longer for necromancers alone to make.”

“I think it only lasted like a few hundred years, maybe a thousand?” Acacia tried their best to remember. “We mostly concerned ourselves with our own stuff, but there was some stuff going on on your side of the world that I think got a lot of people and gods killed some time after the covenant was made. After that, we never really heard anything from you guys again, but since we didn’t get bothered anymore, we didn’t stick our branches into people’s business. Then, only a few short centuries later, there’s more people than ever and they’re very keen on carving out a space from the land under our care.”

“Having seen your spite for people, I find it surprising that you didn’t simply take everything back by force.” The necromancer pointed out, thinking that it likely wouldn’t have been much of a hurdle for even a moderate number of spriggans to keep out most people.

“Do you wish for us to go to war?” Acacia grinned and sent yet another chill down Anastacia’s spine.

“That is exactly what we should have done.” Grumbled Picea.

“Whether we like it or not, people are a part of the balance, but not under our care. Challenging them would only invite more violence and end with both burned forests and ruined cities – and at worst it would turn the necromancers against us as well for all we know.” Ulmus explained the stance the nature spirits had taken. “The situation isn’t as dire as some would have you believe. Plenty of ancient forests still stand, and much of the land is not habitable by people in the first place.”

“You have definitely chosen wisely.” Anastacia agreed. “People are quick to claim things as their own. As soon as you tried reclaiming a small hamlet that has only been there for what seems like a moment to the likes of you, people would see it as an attack on their land. You would be crawling in soldiers, and from there you’re just counting down to someone burning everything down.

“I can only apologize that the negligence of my ancestors has left things as they are, but can you explain to me what makes us necromancers so special in your eyes? There’s very little we can do against your kind in the end, so surely it wasn’t simply a matter of strength?” She asked now that the conversation was in the part where she could participate.

All three spriggans went silent and confusedly exchanged glances with one another. Despite them having expected that the covenant had been forgotten by Mournvalley, the question somehow caused even more concern in the spirits.

Ulmus was first to speak up. “Tell me, necromancer, do you know where your kind came from?”

“Can’t say that I do, I’m afraid.” Anastacia admitted. “If I recall correctly, the theory is that the god of death chose us as their servants, but that seems more like a guess to me than anything.”

The answer caused even more of a rection in the nature spirits than the question had, as all three of them began laughing uncontrollably. Ulmus could hardly keep their tall form from collapsing and Acacia couldn’t stop themselves form rolling down the side of the root she had been laying on top of. The weapons stuck on Picea’s back clacked together as the tortoise rocked in laughter as well.

“Oh… oh no… No, dear child, no god had anything to do in the creation of necromancers, I assure you.” Acacia giggled and climbed back up. “And I don’t think there’s a god for death anyway, that would be dumb, even for them. Picea… can you… can you take this one, I need a moment.”

The tortoise calmed themselves down but kept quietly chuckling during their explanation. “When the first creatures awoke in the primordial night and the mother grove sprouted, the balance gifted us the power to shape life by giving us control over the flora all life relies on, and the purpose for our immortal spirits. We did our duty, cultivating life on which the first beasts fed, and in turn, on which the fiends and other mighty creatures of the primordial night preyed on. This was all well and good, but from among the creatures ascended the first gods, to plague the balance through favoritism and ‘blessings’. Only two kinds realized the inevitable downfall these deities would bring to this world. The aureun decided to bury themselves deep into the earth and we walked away from such offers. It didn’t take long for the first few to create their own people and some of the others to imitate the mistake – but this is all common knowledge.

“Some time after the balance was broken, its new servants arose among those who had broken it. One by one, necromancers were born in the different species of people. As balance had once seen it necessary to task us to aid the slightest of life to survive, it then saw it fit to task your kind to rise against its mightiest ones, and take back the control of life from the gods. So, to our understanding, we share the same origin. Just as we serve the balance by wielding life, you serve it by wielding death as a tool.”

Anastacia frowned. “I’m not sure I care for that any more than I do for our explanation. Frankly the notion that there’s nothing but killing and death to our kind is miserable.” She stated boldly.

“But you misunderstand the point, necromancer.” Ulmus intervened, still finding it a bit hard to not chortle every now and then. “For better or for worse, people are now part of the balance of life, should they be allowed to make their own place in the world, their presence would not be an issue to anyone else, they would eke out their meager lives in perfect harmony with the world around them. The gods, however, make sure that this is not the case. They wish to see the populations bloated and servile to them, as the bolster their own might and grow fat. Necromancers are an affront to the deities among their own creations, there to distance people from gods, and to finally get rid of the weakened gods once and for all when the time comes. The nature of your powers comes from the simple fact that after death, bodies are of no interest to the gods and are returned to the balance – returned to you. In no case is your duty to blindly kill and maim, your tendency for it is more of a happy accident than anything.”

“All of this is exactly why the people are not our enemies, the gods are.” Acacia snidely commented, as if trying to reignite an old disagreement.

“People have let themselves get to this point, at the very least they deserve some punishment!” Picea gruffly disagreed.

Ulmus was clearly considering simply staying silent, but in the end had to have their opinion known. “Punishing them for a situation they aren’t even aware of is a bit much, don’t you think? Vile as they are, we don’t attack any other pests over doing what they were created to do either.”

“Ah!” The cat exclaimed suddenly. “This isn’t our problem anymore! The necromancers have returned to the fold and it’s now their job to do as they see fit!”

The three spriggans fell silent once more and turned to the necromancer in between them. Acacia with an excited grin, Ulmus with a relived but exhausted glance and Picea with a grimace that made their disagreement clear. Expecting some kind of input from Anastacia, who had only just been informed about a job she and the rest of her kind supposedly had – the rest of her kind she did not represent at all and had no desire to do so.

Luckily, she was adept at telling half truths when it came to necromancers. “The situation in Mournvalley is not really in a place where we can make sweeping decisions like that for now. For some time, we’ve spent our lives secluded from the rest of the world and have only recently started to make our presence known once more. We also have a situation we need to deal with when it comes to the violet sect.” She said, speaking mostly truth but trying very hard not to gag every time she had to include herself into the same group as Mournvalley.

“It’s settled then! The necromancers will figure it out when they get the chance.” Acacia declared triumphantly and mockingly grinned at Picea.

“I am also inclined to hand the matter over to them. It’s for them to decide how the situation is settled, and we’ve waited for thousands of years, a few decades more hardly matter. If that’s what it takes for them to get back on their feet.” Ulmus agreed with a bit more hesitation. “This necromancer at least seems resourceful. Even if their power has waned over the ages, we can’t exactly just claim their duty.”

Picea didn’t need to make their disagreement any clearer, but either because they recognized the vote or because there wasn’t much they could do to change the outcome anyway, they chose to make their exit. Slowly standing back up, the tortoise gave the group one more disappointed look and wobbled back into the direction they had come from. “Necromancer…” They grumbled without turning back to address her properly. “If you aren’t in a hurry, we should talk later.”

The three waited for the clanging of the rusty weapons to fade into the distance before speaking up again. Though Anastacia felt like nothing much had been achieved, Ulmus and Acacia seemed content with the discussion based on their chatter.

“I’m thankful of the history lesson, but did we achieve anything just now?” Anastacia asked while still trying to wrap her head around what even had been decided.

“It was mostly for our benefit.” Ulmus admitted, sounding very relieved that no fight had taken place. “We’ll continue to discuss the matter with Picea. This was not the first time or the last time this matter has been brought up, but it was nice to have a necromancer present for it. Bringing your kind up back up to date on your duty was far more important than anything we could have decided anyway. We aren’t blind to your young age or lack of experience either; it’d be foolish to expect you to immediately start solving the problems we’ve had for thousands of years.”

“And we each took our measure of you!” The cat proudly added. “Someone clearly isn’t new to speaking to the likes of us scary ones! I have my own questions about what I’ve seen, but you have the mettle to do great things as far as I’m concerned – though you do kind of need a few more years out there.”

Anastacia nodded. “As I said, we’ve spent the last years in seclusion, so there is still much for me to learn.” She said, which was true but not quite for the reason she mentioned.

Acacia smugly chuckled for a moment before sharing their thoughts. “I have a theory! One the necromancer might quite like, I would hope!” They giggled and hopped down from the root to get closer to Ulmus, obviously speaking more to the other spriggan than Anastacia. “So, for whatever reason, the necromancers have let their place in the world rot from under them and need to rebuild their little empire. They lost their knowledge on balance and their relation to it, but out from the ashes comes this little one – clear-eyed, open-minded and interested in learning. Because of our own reclusive habits, chances are she would never make it to us on her journeys, just like the last hundred generations of necromancers didn’t…”

“I see what you mean.” Ulmus said with the expression of deep pondering on their face.

“What are you getting at?” Anastacia asked, unable to follow what was being suggested.

Acacia turned their attention to her and jumped onto the rock, intentionally making the necromancer take a step back with their terrifying aura. “There are a number of spirits that have left the grove, almost all of them out of shame. Failure in our duty digs deep into our very essence and every day it becomes harder to face the others, and the grove itself. For some this becomes unbearable and they leave, presumably to suffer for eternity – however, there is one spirit who left us because they thought the grove had failed them instead! One who could ever even fathom the idea of returning here for any reason!”

“Xamiliere?” Anastacia guessed and took one more step away from Acacia.

“Exactly!” The cat cheered as the thorns on their body scraped the surface of the rock. “You somehow crossed paths with the one spirit who could and would guide you into our little paradise. Perhaps this is how the houseplant was always meant to serve the balance? Intriguing thought, is it not?”

Suddenly the temperature of the air around them dropped drastically. The surface of the pond began freezing over and the humidity of the air once more condensed and froze onto the nearby surfaces, including the bodies of the two spriggans. Ulmus moved a bit further away from the situation while still able to, as the frost around their feet started to get a grasp on them. Acacia’s multitude of eyes appeared once more and the green energy burning within them flared out to keep at least some of the ice off their thorns.

While not necessarily angry, the theory did annoy Anastacia because of what Sorbus had told her about Xamiliere’s life in the grove. “Intriguing indeed. Just so happens that it very conveniently justifies all of you treating her like shit to drive her out of here from what I hear. If that’s the sort of thing this ‘balance’ of yours is about, I’m not so sure I want anything to do with it.” She said with a tone matching the freezing temperature she had caused and stared down at the madly grinning cat.

“I don’t care about justifications or forgiveness, nor does the balance. Cruelty is a part of this world and a part of the balance. Whether it’s right or wrong, it happens. If I say that it was all part of some grand plan in our part, would that suddenly make the houseplant’s hate towards us any less valid? Would it make what happened any more right or wrong?” Acacia spoke without a dent in their sly grin. “Sometimes horrible things in this world have consequences that lead to better outcomes, sometimes they don’t. I am merely entertaining the idea that in this fucked up world of ours, what happened to Xamiliere might just have been worth it for all of us, including her.” They said, properly referring to Xamiliere by her name and being very obvious about it.

It was impossible for Anastacia to say that she herself wasn’t better off because of what had happened, and she at least would have liked to believe that was the case for her friend as well. However, just like the cat had said, that didn’t mean they had to be happy about it. “I see your point, but it’s a shitty point.” She grumbled and let the air warm up a little, partly because the ice magic was starting to get tiring to keep up and the rock under her feet was starting to get noticeably warm.

“Does the idea of a fated meeting like that not entice you at all? The balance itself seeking out you two and making sure you meet, on what I assume was a flowery field on a beautiful sunny day. This does nothing for you?” Acacia smarmily inquired.

“I’m pretty sure she tried to hire me for a quckie the first time we met… a cheap one too, now that I think about it.” Anastacia reminisced of the time she first arrived to Valor.

Having successfully ruffled the necromancer’s feathers, Acacia hopped off the rock and returned to the small indentation they had carved on the nearby root. “I’m not sure what that means but sounds just as romantic, love at first sight no doubt.” They said and quickly glanced into the treeline. “You should probably go and get those two by the way. There’s something happening over there.”

Fearing that Baccata had returned or something equally terrible was going on, Anastacia immediately dropped everything, including what remained of her royalty act to dash into the direction Xamiliere and Sorbus had disappeared into.

“I rather like her, just the right level of volatile, that one.” Acacia commented as they watched the necromancer struggling to get over a root on her own.

Ulmus started to saunter back towards their own nook of the grove. “Are you seriously buying into this whole new identity nonsense the houseplant has going on?” They asked, stopping for a moment to hear the answer.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Acacia said and yawned. “Any fool can see that she’s no longer the spirit that left us back then.”