Chapter 16 - Part 9

The path widened, and the plants were lush. The treant led them with powerful strides, and they were forced to walk quickly to keep up. Only one of the Wardens of the Wood accompanied them as a rear guard. From slight movement on either side in he trees, Orphan suspected that there were more servants of Oalian watching them than they knew.

The path widened further, and a beautiful grove spread out before them. Life and sunlight seemed to burst into them, and flowers danced at every corner. Birds and animals frolicked, and streams burbled over rocks, filled with leaping fish. A great bear, an animal more than double the size of any other bear that Orphan had ever seen, lounged on a flat boulder, idly watching the newcomers.

Standing over the stream, dipping thin branches into the water – branches that were long wooden fingers, was a moving tree. Like the treant, this tree had a face in the bark, branches that served as arms, and a split trunk that would serve as legs. The face was wizened and ancient, like the face of the oldest man in the world. The legs were strong, but judging from the grass growing around the tree, the tree rarely moved.

And it was an even greater tree than the treant. It was Oalian, a greatpine at full growth that had been awakened into sentience millenia ago. Oalian straightened, the majesty of his body towering over them all, making even the great treant seem like a small child before a giant. Orphan could see squirrels and birds running along Oalian’s branches and leafy hair.

“Great Oalian,” the treant said, bowing. Thomas bowed, as did Delegado and the Warden. Even Feather seemed to nod his head. Orphan did as well after a moment, wondering what to say.

Oalian responded in the Sylvan language, briefly conversing with the treant, until the treant nodded and walked back down the path.

“Barson,” Oalian rumbled, his voice a deep echo of the earth.

“Majesty?” the Warden asked. “What is your will?”

“Go back and have the following announced,” Oalian commanded him. “The three Gatekeepers who broke the peace have been physically chastised, and they will give two months’ labors to Tharashk. Greoche is banned from Greenheart for the remainder of her days. Vestiol shall be taken out of the Eldeen Reaches under custody of Deneith. Brogan and Delegado are commended for their maturity, even if it took too long.” Orphan felt Delegado bristle at that, but the half-orc wisely kept silent. “Go now.” The Warden nodded and got up, trotting out of the grove.

Oalian towered over them, peering down with a somber visage. He radiated power and serenity, and seemed to be all of the force that nature had ever exhibited. “I have spoken more today than I have in the past six moons,” Oalian said finally. “I wished to slumber, but I must lay eyes on the hearts on those who the Prophecy has chosen. Thomas, to you I speak first. Tell me why you are here.”

Thomas cleared his throat. “I am here to find peace,” he said.

“Peace does not exist,” Oalian said. “Nature is always in flux. Peace is an illusion, a containment of life.”

“Then I seek less self-loathing and no more trouble in my mind,” Thomas persisted.

“Your victims prefer that you know of no such tranquility,” Oalian rumbled. “It is the way of things that when a root splits a rock the root can no longer rest on the rock.”

“But can I never be forgiven?” Thomas persisted, his face full of pain.

“Forgiveness will come with balance,” Oalian said. “You are on a path of great peril, but if you succeed, peace will come to this world which has been lately afflicted with wide-ranging war. You may find greater peace than you thought you needed.”

Thomas swallowed. “Then I will follow my path. I seek the Branch of Water and Air. This is supposed to help me find the first riddle. Drorin told me you would know what he meant when he said the first riddle was with the prisoner.”

Oalian gestured slightly with one branch, and a staff that seemed to dance with air and water slowly rose from the ground. Thomas took it carefully, and a look of amazement came over his face as he gripped it.

“Study it carefully, for it is greater than even the most powerful scroll that you have manipulated,” Oalian told him. “It has but one function, to control the weather itself. You will need to use it more than once, and you will die and your quest fail should you not even be able to properly use it once."

“I will,” Thomas said.

“Delegado,” Oalian said. “The wheel turns. Kurse chose his path, and it led him to you. But your path leads you where? Towards what and away from what?”

“I don’t know,” the half-orc said warily. “Will you tell us where to find the first prisoner?”

“Hardly the first prisoner of that place,” Oalian admonished him gently, his voice like a series of strong winds running along the plains. “But the first riddle is there. Delegado, have you heard tales of a city surrounded by an unending storm of flying volcanic glass?”

“Yes,” the half-orc said. Orphan was surprised to see a look of dread on Delegado’s face.

“They are true,” Oalian said. “Ashtakala is where the prisoner who knows the first riddle is. They have broken him countless times, but they do not know the meaning of his riddle, so they cannot act on it.”

“Him?” Delegado said. “Not her? The prisoner is not – is not a woman?”

“This particular one is not a female,” Oalian said, his voice now a soft, comforting rain. “But do not think you have only one who can bring pain to your heart. You go to the city of demons, the capital of the blasted lands to the north, the place where the rajah scheme in the Demon Wastes. You risk much, and you will be needed to find a way in, even if Thomas is successful with the staff. The prisoner you seek is kept near the place where the stolen artifact of the Balanced Palm lies.”

Delegado seemed to deflate, and he nodded. “Thank you,” he said.

“Thomas and Delegado, leave the grove now and prepare yourselves,” Oalian ordered. “A druid will come for you at noon to cast a spell that will let you fly as mist over the Icehorn Mountains. This druid has been pulled from the Aundairian front, where his powers are badly needed. An hour or two after midnight he will deposit you, and then leave. Go now. I will speak to your friend, the warforged.”

Delegado and Thomas nodded, and departed. Oalian waited for a while, watching them walk away, then turned to Orphan.

“I am weary,” he said. “Ask what you will, but quickly.”

“Am I alive?” Orphan asked.

“Yes,” Oalian said simply.

“Am I alive as that bear?” Orphan persisted.

“Is a fish alive as a bird?” Oalian asked. “Is a flower as alive as the ants that burrow in the sand? Yours is a new race, but a living one. Beware the interest of the Chamber.” Oalian’s face closed its eyes, and his branches went limp.

The treant came up behind Orphan. “It is time to go,” it told him.

Orphan nodded, and he gave a short bow to the sleeping Oalian before turning and following the treant out of the grove.