85: Following in Their Footsteps

Paisley found me still sitting on the balcony, almost an hour later.

Looking down with a bemused smile, she said, “Hey, you missed lunch. So did Noah and Ethan, actually. Where is everyone?”

“They had an argument,” I sighed, still unable to grasp what had just happened. No, that was right. I was struggling to understand why the argument had happened.

Paisley was quiet for a second, then she sighed and sat beside me, back against the wall. “What happened?”

I heaved a deep sigh, as if I was trying to match and exceed the one she’d just given, and began to explain the situation.

By the time I was done, Paisley had her arm around my shoulders, and we were resting our heads together. It was lovely, intimate, and for once, I didn’t feel like my heart was going to beat its way entirely out of my chest. I just felt… safe.

“I think—” she said after a minute of thinking, “I mean, obviously throwing an opinion into the ring is kinda the problem here, but I think that someone can be both complicit, and a victim, you know?”

“I honestly don’t care,” I said, tone apologetic.

Paisley snorted softly. “Yeah. We’ll let the boys sort themselves out, I think.”

I liked that idea, because there was no way I felt like jumping into drama between two boys who were doing their level best to not fuck for some reason.

In fact, the boys didn't reconcile that day, nor the next, and I kept mostly to myself in the workshop, working on my smithing and thinking. It was as I was staring at a branch that Willow had grown to stabilise my tower, that I realised what Whisperwill had been doing when they were researching petrification.

Out on the balcony again, I asked, “Willow, are you awake?” Waiting a few seconds, I heard nothing back. Damn.

My idea had been to ask Willow to fashion a hollow branch I could use as a forge, and then I could petrify it. That way, it would be reusable. Sadly, it looked like I would have to wait until the next time she awoke.

On our third day of the climb into the mountains, we were attacked by a tribe of mountain goblins. One moment, everyone was bored and peaceful — the next, all hell broke loose. I don't think the goblins were expecting our tree to basically be a clown car filled with adventurers. Seriously, with upwards of four hundred players logged out inside the taproom, and many many more using it as their respawn while they ranged around in the mountains, we had a veritable army defending Willow.

The goblins didn't stand a chance. Arrows and spells rained down from Willow's branches in a torrent, and melee fighters leapt off to join the fight, heedless of fall damage.

I managed to gain enough experience during the short battle to reach level 31. I placed my two stat points into Intelligence, since I was no longer using the feather that had boosted the stat.

I didn't gain any new ability options with the level, but I decided it was finally time to pick up a ranged spell — Petal Swarm.

Petal Swarm

Send a swarm of razor sharp magical flower petals at your enemies. The number of petals thrown is equal to the enthusiasm and extravagance of the casting motion. The petals have limited tracking, and deal magically scaling damage based on your attuned faerymic element.

It sounded like a very useful ability to have in my back pocket, but the whole… flamboyant casting motion was a bit strange. When I pulled up the instruction video, it was… difficult to watch. The little mini-Keiko in the video did a one eighty spin in place, ending with her arm outstretched behind her and towards the target. She was also looking over and arching her back, almost like she was trying to seduce someone.

Even the small, half-cast version was excessive, with a twisting hand motion that forced the mini-Keiko to arch her back slightly. Ho-boy, I was going to be very embarrassed the first time I used this ability.

The Galloping Willow met more resistance as it climbed through the high mountain valleys. You could tell we were gaining altitude, too, because the air started to feel thinner, like you had to take more breaths just to compensate.

I was just eating lunch out on the workshop balcony again, when the tree gave a rumble, and a branch turned lazily to dangle before me. A rattling, creaking, but rather quiet voice said, “Flitling. You requested my company?”

Blinking in confusion, I glanced around, then back at the branch. It was almost eerie. It had also been several days since I asked her if she was awake, but she was acting like I’d just said that.

“Um, yeah,” I responded, then cleared my throat when it came out very quiet. “Yeah. Hey, uh… what’s with the tiny branch instead of the booming voice?”

“The cold — it infuses lethargy into my limbs, and thus my energy is spent in animation of my legs,” she said sombrely. “Small though this branch may be, it is far less cumbersome to manipulate such an appendage in order to converse with one so tiny as yourself.”

Here with the forgefire heating the stone at my back, I could feel both warmth and the cold breeze. I enjoyed the contrasting sensations, but I guess Willow didn’t have a fire big enough to heat her.

“Oh, that makes sense,” I said, nodding understanding. “Well, I’m sorry about the cold, then.”

“It is but a passing hardship within the long stream of my life,” Willow said, the branch swaying amicably from side to side. “Now, come young one, what is it you wished to seek of me?”

I had to take a moment to think, but then I remembered. “Ah, I was wondering if you could create a… a forge shaped branch, then… snap it off? I’m doing Spirit Forging, and the journal I read said the stump of a Ghoulmother Willow would make a good single use forge. Obviously, one of those isn’t around, so I was thinking, maybe a branch of one would do? Then, we can petrify it so it’s reusable.”

“I see,” she said noncommittally.

Oh, shit, I’d just spoken about using a corpse of one of her kin as a forge! “Uh, sorry, I didn’t think about the fact that I was talking about one of your dead kin for my work…”

The branch suddenly began to laugh, creaking and groaning like some sort of terrifying zombie. “Flitling, it is meat-things that I consume for fuel, and I am, in essence, a spirit most powerful, inhabiting and changing the flesh of a tree that has long since perished. The use of dead things to achieve a goal is not a practice that I am offended by. Fire, is of course, an element of nature that I am not well acclimated to, with good reason. However, despite my fears, the fires of your forge have been a balm to my cold-weary boughs. Yes, I will do this for you.”

“Thank you!” I said, sudden excitement causing me to jump to my feet. With Willow's help, I might finally get to make something useful with my Spirit Forging. “Here, come inside, there's more room to grow the forge.”

Willow's tendril-like branch snaked along through the air behind me — which, honestly, looked downright creepy, but hey that was our tree for you.

Inside, I saw Vesuvia, leader of the Carnival Historica guild and mum's friend, talking to Jace. Her character wasn't nearly as tall as her personality made it seem, and Jace towered over her. Still, she stood feet in a wide stance, hands grasping the table in a similar, confident manner as she laughed uproariously at something Jace had said.

Her eyes flicked in my direction, then did a double take when she saw me and the arboreal air snake behind me. “Pixie girl! What on Earth is that?”

Without her armour, and instead wearing a well tailored casual shirt and breeches, Vesuvia looked positively normal. She was human, her figure was moderately athletic, her face was pretty but not overly so — just a normal, human woman. The look was completely undercut by the perpetually wild look in her eyes, massive, fluffy ponytail, and confident, easy smile. It turned her into a very intimidating woman.

“Uh, hi Vesuvia,” I said, feeling suddenly shy as hell. “Willow was just going to help me with a crafting project.”

“A gnarled, cancerous tumour I will grow for the flitling most fine,” Willow said, and her strange pattern of speech meant that it took me a moment to realise — did Willow just call me fine?.

Apparently Vesuvia and Jace caught it too, because they exchanged a quick glance. That, or maybe they were just weirded out by the tree in general.

“Uh, yeah…” I said into the awkward silence. “So anyway, Willow, here’s what I need you to do—”

Willow used the root she was already puppeteering and expanded the tip like a glassblower creating a bubble. From the resulting hollow orb, I had her grow three wide feet for the forge — thick and sturdy. Small air vents were then placed in the bottom, and in the front, a wide hole was added — ready for a door. It was basic, as far as the concept of a forge went, but that was all I needed.

“Not going to use bellows?” Jace asked, looking at the wooden forge once it was done and Willow had separated it from her branch.

With a wry grimace, I nodded. “Unfortunately, Spirit Forging follows the really old — and shitty — forging and smelting traditions. That means no bellows.”

“That's a bummer,” he grunted, then with a shrug, he placed a passive clawed hand — paw? — on my shoulder. “Well kid, I'm sure you'll make it work.”

“Hopefully,” I agreed, enjoying how small the big tiger-man made me feel. “I'll just go see about getting it enchanted.”

Leaving Jace, Vesuvia, and the workshop behind, I went in search of Paisley. On the way, I saw Noah in the taproom, talking to a group I didn't recognise. He was animatedly explaining something with wide flourishes of his hands. In the corner of the taproom, almost out of sight, was a melancholy Ethan.

I almost went over to talk — to which guy, I don't know — but I stopped myself. Ethan was messing around with a holographic browser window, and Noah was busy with telling stories. They'd keep for now, and honestly, I wasn't sure what I'd even do once I was talking to either of them.

I found Paisley in her room in one of the other towers. She'd decorated it with bright flowers and dark cloth drapings. A large enchanting work area was sectioned off from her bed by a divider, and that's where she was — sitting at an enchanting desk frowning as she fiddled with something.

“Hey,” I said gently, one hand on the open doorway.

She looked up with a smile. “Keiko!”

Behind her, now visible since she'd leaned back, was a moderately sized mirror. I saw myself standing in the doorway, and… something about the way I was holding myself felt wrong. Self consciously, I pulled my stance in, trying to make it more feminine. It worked, and I immediately felt better about my reflection.

I'd been silent for a couple of seconds, and Paisley was watching me with a curious, but otherwise unreadable expression.

I cleared my throat. “Um… I was wondering if I could have your help with some enchanting? I want to petrify a big chunk of wood.”

“Oh, you have a use for the book?” She asked, lighting up with another one of her incredible smiles. God, I loved her smiles.

Ignoring the flutter in my chest, I said, “I did! Come, I'll show you — oh, but we need these ingredients—”