22: Setting Boundaries

Our hilarious and extremely odd conversation had dulled our gamer senses to the danger right in front of us. I stepped out towards the tree, still shaking my head with amusement, when the tree shifted slightly.

“Oh no,” Paisley said in a tone that was way too calm. “I think I know how you’re meant to get the sap now…”

“With my teeth?” I asked, pretending to be clueless.

I watched her brows furrow together in consternation as she geared up to explain what she meant, when I held up a hand. “I get it, I get it. The tree is moving. Want to hit it with a big fuckoff beam of death?”

“I have a better idea,” she said, after a moment of thought, and carefully unclasped a pan flute from her wrist.

She raised the flute carefully to her lips as the tree writhed, long tendril branches reaching out for us. It was like a massive, thousand-armed squid that had been planted upside down in the ground. I had a sneaking suspicion that the strange bald spot in its canopy, right above the trunk in fact, would have a mouth, just like on the sea creature.

Curious as to what we were dealing with, I inspected it.

Lesser Ghoulmother WillowHaunted by a foul and evil soul, the husk of this long dead willow tree is ravenous for the flesh of the living. To sate this need, it rips the tortured souls of its victims from their bodies and thrusts them into its unholy seeds, growing itself an army of ghouls to seek out prey beyond its reach.

Oh fuck, that was horrifying.

Beside me, Paisley began to play a haunting and compelling tune. She glanced sideways at me as she played, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Damned showoff. Damned beautiful showoff.

The willow did not appreciate Paisley's song and my stomach dropped low as it began to desperately tear itself out of the ground. Soil and stone flew in all directions and roots writhed, until suddenly, it stilled… and attacked.

Whip-like branches lashed out, just barely reaching us now, and it was only my naturally quick reflexes that saved Paisley from being impaled. The first I blocked using a fae style—Arms raised above my head while the tip of my blade was pointed diagonally to the ground.

My lips twitched into a grin as I heard my father's voice echoing through the years. He'd have called this an ‘impotent excuse for a high mist guard,’ and to ‘see a doctor about some viagra to get that point up’. Well, actually, he'd have said the whole thing in rapidfire japanese and I'd have missed half of the meaning, then he'd sigh and repeat it in English. The guard made sense though. Fae were short, so most attacks would come from up high and this position would help with blocking them.

The bark of the willow—thin and smooth as it was—didn't part before the edge of my blade. Shit. Even with my buffs to armour penetration, the blasted tree had a lot of damage resistance. I really hoped Paisley's idea worked, because I was beginning to doubt if we had a hope of killing this thing.

I was so thankful the mushroom had been one of those bosses with a tonne of hp and only a moderate amount of armour. I’d never have been able to solo it if its skin had been as tough as this wrinkly willow tree.

Another branch lashed out at Paisley as the tree tore itself free from the ground just a little more. I wish my friend would step backwards, but she didn’t seem to want to. That left me to block the blow aimed at her with a quick step to the side and a flourish of my blade. It struck again, twice in a matter of moments, and I was left reeling from the force of the strikes. Damn it, all my best defensive measures were about misdirection or dodging.

The tree had staggered me back and to one side of Paisley, and it was right about then that I realised it was way smarter than I was giving it credit for. It wasn't just lashing out, it was controlling the melee—Shifting me around with carefully placed attacks.

I didn’t think, I didn’t wait for Paisley to move, I just acted.

I lunged at her, stepping right into her personal space while my sword arm reached around her and blocked the flurry of strikes that came in from that side. Her song faltered for just a moment, eyes going wide with surprise at my closeness. My heart, for its part, hammered against my ribcage. I took a shuddering breath to steady myself and her scent came with it. She smelled like cinnamon and fresh cloves and… her.

Spinning away to block the next enraged attack from the tree, as much as to get out of her way as to stop the blow. I tried to pull my head back into the fight, but it took a hot moment. A moment was all the tree needed, and I was struck heavily in the stomach. The blow flung me into the air, spinning me like some sort of acrobat until I corrected the movement with frantic wingbeats.

Coiling like a spring and ignoring my health bar, I flashed back in front of Paisley with a Scatter Dash and roared my high pitched defiance at the stupid fucking tree. It was making me mad! Then, before it could attack again, I swapped my stance down into a low backwards one and lifted my hand off the hilt of my sword. It floated there for a moment, suspended in midair, only attached to my hand by little wisps of soft, pink light. My Larkspur Strike was powered by sheer spite as I leapt forward, searing the tendrils of the willow with sizzling energy.

Whipping past me, my illusions joined the attack, slicing and hacking with their blades. To my surprise, the attack actually worked. Branches of the willow were thrown in all directions, removed from their host by the singing steel of one katana and its three doppelgangers.

Silence followed, echoing off the oppressive and claustrophobic clearing despite being the antithesis of sound. Paisley had finished.

Turning, I took in her slim, gnomish form and watched as she raised a hand towards our foe, eyes closed. It stopped. It actually… stopped. My friend was panting, but slowly, her arm flopped back to her side and she giggled, “Holy guacamole! That was intense!”

I was still a little hung up on the tree having stopped moving entirely, and I blurted, “You can dominate something that powerful?”

I’d known that she could use her music to squash the will of the undead and use them as minions like a normal necromancer, but last I had seen her, she’d only been able to do it to like, zombies and shit. This tree was a whole new level.

She grinned and nodded, stepping up beside me, careful to avoid my sword. I sheathed it and listened as she explained, “Yeah, it really depends on what I want to do with the spirit, you know? All I wanted from this tree is for it to sit still and go back to sleep. Normally I’d start a banishment song or an easing song, but we still need it like this, so I’ll just leave it dormant.”

“Can we keep it like that long-term?” I asked, still in awe of how much my friend had grown in such a short time.

“Maybe?” she mused, taking a few steps towards the willow. “I’d have to release my hold somewhat so it can keep making ghouls and feeding, but I don’t see why not. My song will wear off after a while, though. If you want to bind it properly, you’d need to find another way.”

“If we had an enchanter we could enchant some spikes with a refined domination spell and bang them into the trunk,” I said, knowing full well that she was an enchanter. She could also do alchemy and weaving, but they weren’t relevant here.

“I’m an enchanter…” Paisley said slowly, a smile blossoming across her excessively red lips.

I matched her smile with one of my own, despite my waning reservations about this rekindled friendship. “Well then, how do you feel about helping me out a little longer?”

“Only a little longer?” she asked, eyes going all wide and imploring. “But you’re really fun to hang out with…”

My heart melted under the weight of that look, and not knowing what to do, I scuffed the dirt with a boot and shrugged. "I mean… sure. I just figured you have a guild to get back to, you know?"

She took a few tentative steps towards me. "It can be your guild too," she murmured.

Ice doused the butterflies in my stomach, and I backed away from her and her offer. "No. No. Definitely not. Sorry. That's… I mean, that's a kind offer, but I want to stay solo."

Her brows furrowed. "Why?"

Pain flared up in my heart like a physical beast, and I half expected to see my combat log report some mental damage, despite the fact it didn't exist as a damage type. The very idea of getting sucked back into Marlon's toxic sphere of influence had me breaking out in a cold sweat. Hell, I was only just starting to realize that he'd been a narcissistic, egotistical, power hungry bastard. How would I survive that shit again?

"I don't want to," I said with a panicked softness. "I really don't want to, okay?"

"But… I promise I'll look after you, and everyone is really nice and helpful," she continued hopefully. "We can power level you, get you gear and money… even a suite in our guild fortress."

"I said no, Paisley," I replied, raising my voice over the fear and pain that sloshed around in my belly like rancid bilgewater. "I'm not interested in joining a guild, but even if I was, I wouldn't join Silver Ridge. Not in a million years."

I expected her to snap back at me, or turn cold and distant. I'd basically just insulted her guild. Anyone else probably would have, but not Paisley.

She just deflated and nodded, upset, but obviously internalising the pain I'd just caused.

Another set of emotions overrode the fear, ones that I didn't quite recognize, but they pushed me towards her. Carefully, I reached out and pulled her into a tentative hug.

"Sorry for yelling," I whispered into her ear.

She reacted to my words with a tiny shudder, and suddenly the hug was much more intimate. Her body molded itself to mine from toe to chest, sending butterflies made of sparks cascading through my limbs. It was my turn to shudder, but mine was for very different reasons to hers, I suspected.

Paisley was slim, despite how some creative universes depicted gnomes. She was more like a tiny elf, downsized to a mere four feet and seven inches. Like me, actually, but she had a warmer, more down to earth beauty, compared to my otherworldly, ethereal looks.

The difference between a race of zealously democratic engineers and a race of flaky, mysterious humanoid hummingbirds was obvious in our appearances. I wanted to visit the gnome republic one day, actually. Maybe Paisley would go with me? Maybe she'd come with me and let me hug her a lot more…

A little purr of contentment escaped me before I could catch it. I really hoped she didn't hear it.

Our almost equal heights made my shoulder perfect for her to rest her chin on. Gosh, I wanted to continue relaxing in the warmth of the moment, but I couldn't. I had to explain further.

My voice faltered for a second, before it found purchase on my tongue. "I know… some shit. About your guild, especially your guild leader. I'm more than willing to hang out with you and Ethan, of course, but… yeah. Just, respect my answer, okay?"

"I will," she mumbled into my shoulder, where her face was pressed. "I will. I'm sorry. I should have just… I will."

"Thank you," I sighed, and gave her one last squeeze before I stepped back and put some much needed space between us. She felt way too nice like that, her body snuggled in against me.

A giggle burbled out of me, sounding more than a little manic, and I ran my fingers through my long hair until it hit the first tie of my braid. It was loose. Dang it, my braid needed to be redone. "So uh… are you still okay to do some enchanting?"