Chapter 21: 21: Happy Little Fir Tree

“Attacked? What? By who?” I asked worriedly, then turned quickly to Grace. “Are the others okay?”

I could feel myself beginning to freak out, I really hoped Bray was okay. He was my best friend and one of the only people who’d ever truly gotten me. He had to be okay, and the girls as well, and Duncan. My gut churned at the idea of any of their deaths.

“Hey, hey,” Grace said quickly, taking my hand in a very distracting manner. “They’re all fine. Others weren’t but… our family is okay.”

Sighing with relief, I nodded and took a deep breath. “Okay, sorry. I was just… scared. I’ve seen things in even my short time out in the world that make me worry.”

“Yeah, so have we,” Troy nodded gravely. “Thankfully, if such a word can be used to describe the event, we were attacked by regular humans. A band of them, we think they were a tribe from the Ghraiga Steppes, at least now that we’ve explored the world around us somewhat.”

“I’ve heard of the Ghraiga Empire, but what’s the Ghraiga Steppes?” I asked, becoming intrigued by the taste of yet more ring world lore.  I mean, it was terrible that Avonside got attacked… but with my family safe and stuff, well my mind went down curiosity lane.

“The Ghraiga Empire, from what our rather rough attempts at communication have told us, takes up much of the area around Avonside. We appeared in a series in uninhabited mountains that they claim as theirs, but since no one actually lives there, they don’t bother to enforce their rule over it. Then, off to the left off spinward, what the locals call north, there is a vast grassland that the Empire also claims. The nomadic tribes there are a little… enigmatic on the issue however,” he told me in a matter of fact way, like he was giving a briefing.

“Right, and I’m guessing they love raiding each other and the settled towns to their south?” I asked.

“Exactly, and it just so happens that one of those groups from Avonside who decided to go out alone rather than stick around… well they got caught by one of these tribes. From there we think they followed the group’s tracks backwards until they found us, defenceless and oblivious in the mountains,” he replied bitterly. Clearly the man had some issues about how badly we’d been defended.

“Oh no,” I whispered, already shaking at the images my mind was conjuring. Foraging parties ridden down by terrible, merciless men on horseback. Working parties butchered as they worked on planting crops or setting up some important machine or other.

“Indeed,” Troy nodded. “After the attack, I stepped forward and offered to take a group of volunteers out into the wilderness, looking for answers about who else lived out here. Grace was the first to volunteer, seeking you I assume. Adam too. Then Kit here, and finally james.”

“Then where’s the armour from then?” I asked, turning to look at Grace’s outfit more carefully.

“It was Bray, actually,” Adam said with a grin. “As well as the rest of the folks in the workshop. People wanted to help, wanted revenge too probably. I think they might have outdone themselves on the scare factor, but it’s been surprisingly good at keeping people from fucking with us.”

Wow! Bray! I always knew you were a nut for swords and armour and stuff, but these were… wow! That was so cool. I mean, yeah… a little less imperial inquisitor would have been nice, but still. Very cool.

“Exactly as the man said,” Troy agreed. “So here we are, trying to gather as much information as possible.”

Wait, there was still one very hard to explain detail about their getup. The guns.

“What about the guns though?!” I blurted, staring at them hard now.

“Just your standard Glock 22,” Troy chuckled. “We modified them to look like those contraptions the guards wear around these parts. We were getting… questions about them.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” I murmured, staring at them in my mage sight now. They only had basic ambient magic to them, nothing like the other ones I’d seen. Duh, I should really be using my magical sight more often. I could even see the base glock underneath with it.

“Indeed,” Troy said, the glanced around. “Well, seeing as we’re here, we may as well have a rest. I don’t suppose you have any food on you? Our packs are back in the Inn we rented at.”

“Oh! Yes,” I blurted, pulling my pack off my shoulders and dumping it on the ground.

From there I passed out some food and everyone settled into the grass. Before I ate though, I had something I needed to do. My reserves of energy were fairly complete right now, so why not use some of it?

First off, I needed to create a type of tree that would be a good wind break for my Grove. I had no idea how to make it have magical properties, but like… did it need to have them? I could change that later when I’d had a chance to settle down and get to the task of trying to puzzle out how magecraft worked. Oh, maybe I could find some books!

“Hey uh, guys…” I started awkwardly. “I’m just going to make a tree real quick, just testing something.”

“Make a tree?” the formerly silent Kit blurted from where he’d fallen starfish-like on the grass. Kit was a funny looking guy, he looked kinda young in the face, but his body was tall and reasonably well built.

“Uh, yeah,” I nodded, feeling my face heat a little. “You know, with magic.”

“Right,” he blinked, clearly confused by the whole idea.

Ignoring him and the even more bemused look I was getting from James-the-dickhead, I turned inwards to the task at hand. I needed a tree that could be a good windbreak, but I vaguely remembered that a proper one needed multiple trees types of trees planted in stages. Still, I was feeling ambitious, so I decided to start with the biggest tree first.

I wanted a really big tree, because I liked big trees, so my mind immediately went to the redwoods. But no, I needed something that would also provide some shelter beneath it. Redwoods weren’t known for their ground level branches. Wait, what about a Fir tree? I’d seen some that were almost houses at the bottom, underneath all the leaves.

Yeah, a Fir tree would work for a first time thing right in the middle of my Grove. I could even go there to relax and read when I had a proper house or something set up. That would be nice.

I pulled an image from my memory of one and went about the task of creating it. I wanted it to be a little more bushy than they normally were to keep out more of that horrible wind, and possibly help with rain. It might also be nice to have it come out taller than normal too.

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With that in mind, I carefully put it together and watched to see if it would work in my mental magical sight thingy. Nope, the taproot wasn’t big enough. Oops! Once that was fixed, the tree seemed to work out fine, so I walked over to an area a distance away from the others.

I noticed as I walked past that my little hole had since filled with water, so I guess it had rained since I was last here. Quite a bit by the looks of things. Maybe I should make a small lake out of it at some point? So many possibilities! I wish I could just hide away in here for a few months and really get stuck into making my Grove. Sadly though, I had friends who I wanted to help.

Reaching a point that I figured was roughly center on the huge plateau, I willed the tree into being and coaxed it into growth, pouring magical energy into it by the bucketload. It grew and grew, roots tearing up the ground as they sought out the most advantageous routes through the soil. When I felt my stores of magic beginning to reach lower levels, I eased off and let it consume what was still in its system.

I had a Fir tree! I couldn’t help a little giggle as I reached out to touch the very real leaves of the thing, soft against my slim fingers. Damn, it wasn’t a fireball or anything, but magic was cool!

“This is… wow,” Grace said from beside me, startling me in the process. When did she get there?! She turned to give me a funny look that I couldn’t interpret at all and continued, “You can really use magic now huh? I’m kinda jealous.”

“It’s pretty amazing,” I nodded, restlessly fiddling with the leaves of the tree. “I um, have my mentor to thank for a lot of this. She helped me in so many ways. I hope she’s still alive.”

“Someone like her doesn’t die easily right? Sounds like she used to be a big political player, but also like, good? No one gets in the way of the truly greedy and power hungry without either dying or being very good at playing the game of politics,” she said, trying to reassure me.

I was silent for a moment as I thought on that. I didn’t really have much to go on with Esra. Just a few little tidbits of information. I wish I’d asked more questions about her when I was with Cad and Valda. Still, anyone who pissed off a cunt like Lord Fennimore couldn’t be that bad, right?

“I’ll help you turn into a powerful mage, then you can go and find her, save her maybe!” Grace continued after a moment, her pretty green eyes intense, like she was promising to fight for me in a duel or something crazy.

“I could turn you into a mage too, down the line,” I told her, rather than acknowledging that intensity. It made me uncomfortable in a strange way that I wasn’t used to.

“You could?” she blinked, my slight change of subject throwing her off.

“Yeah, I’d just need to get powerful enough that I can create my own mage fruit. Then I can give it to you,” I said with a small smile. Would she accept the fruit, when it came to that?

“Being a mage would be so cool… but wouldn’t there be better people to give that to?” she asked, glancing away, back towards the group who were staring at the tree with interest. Except Kit, who was approaching it like the thing might claw its way out of the ground and eat him.

“No!” I murmured forcefully, taking both of her hands before I could think why I shouldn’t do that. “I’d want it to be you. You’re… I…”

My face flushed as I realised the intimate way we were standing, hands clasped, hers having curled to hold mine right back. She was close too, so close, her big green eyes wide as they searched mine. Oh no.

I had just realised why things felt strange between Grace and I now… Previously I had been off limits romantically, both because of my own problems with my previous gender and body, but also because she simply hadn’t been attracted to guys. Now though… I was a girl, she was a girl, and both of us were seemingly attracted to girls.

The moment I had that realisation, I dropped her hands and took a step back, mumbling, “Sorry! I just, I think you’re… I trust you, and you care, and I want to give it to someone special… wait, I mean, you’re… smart. And stuff. I think you’d make a good mage, I guess. I don’t know.”

My cheeks were fire, my mind melted to slag, someone must have broken the heat sink in my brain. Shit, would it be possible to magic a hole in the ground I could sink into? Help, Esra! Save me!

Like an angel descending from heaven, Adam wandered up next to us. Unlike an angel descending from heaven, he had a big dumb smirk on his face.

“How are you doing Ryn?” he asked with a slight singsong that was very obviously a subtle dig at my current complexion.

Wait! Complexion! Hah! I could beat that! I pushed my chlorophyll up to my skin, feeling the sun beginning to refill my sapped stores of magic. Damn, that felt wonderful. Almost wonderful enough to distract me from the terrible embarrassment of everything that had just happened.

“Ryn!” Grace blurted, sounding worried. “Are you okay? You’ve turned green!”

“Hulk… garden?” I joked awkwardly, then cringed again as I realised how weird I was being. Before they could notice they were friends with a complete moron, I continued, “I’m part plant! Mages are part plant, so I can photosynthesise for energy and magical power and stuff! That’s… what I’m doing. Right now. Because I feel like it.”

“Jesus, Ryn,” Adam guffawed, patting me on the back. “Take a breath or two would you? You might pass out otherwise.”

“Part… plant?” Grace asked incredulously.

“I mean, she did hatch out of a fruit,” Adam shrugged with another of his goofy grins. “Or was it like, schlorped out of a fruit? You mentioned fruit juice didn’t you, Ryn?”

I was dead. Done. Ryn was no more, only the raw and unending essence of embarrassment. An embarrassment so pure it could be distilled into a fine liquor for those with a truly bonkers taste in alcohol.

“Her cheeks are purple now,” Kit murmured from where he’d been poking at the tree in disbelief.

“Come on you lot,” Troy called, “We have work to do!”

Oh thank god, my real saviour, the no-nonsense army dude came to the rescue.

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