The various plants tried to speak to him after that, each doing their best to try and get some kind of reaction, but he remained expressionless as he silently went and gathered four seeds, the soil, and a sword, planting the first one at what the old man had once mentioned was the entrance to their ruinous village home.
With a generous amount of soil the first seed soon began to sprout, a few small green leaves at first before it began to grow and thicken into a massive tree filled with greenish-blue leaves. Its voice sounded old and wise in his mind as it greeted him like an old friend rather than its grower. Its roots cracked through the ground with ease, each one looping and tangling as they spread out before sinking back down, while an aged face slowly formed upon a large round knot in its bark.
"An ancient ent." Chris finally whispered. "The old man glossed over your kind, yet when he spoke there was a lot of fondness to it. How your kind are not only protectors but also guides, said to be the embodiment of wisdom. I—I want you to not only dig a root as deep as possible but also for it to be a resting place for a nameless old man. I also need you to spread and grow others of your kind, even if they are only regular ents, they would also be fine. What I want is a proper living wall to be formed around his..." He choked up for a moment and wiped his eyes as he looked back. "Around my village." He finished softly, pressing his hand to the tree's bark. He heard it reply slowly that his will would be done as best it could, but it added how it hoped it would come to him whenever he needed to talk rather than whenever he wished for something. It was touching and something he decided to consider.
Giving a small nod he promised to think about it before walking a short distance away to plant another seed. Another plant sprouted yet soon grew in an entirely different way than the others had.
First was its small stem breaking through the surface of the ground much like the others, but the small thin stem continued rising higher and higher before ballooning out from top to base and leaning slightly forward. Its top becoming a jagged opening, stretching wider than its base before it began to fill with a thick yellow fluid to its rim, numerous small stems wriggling across its rim and its form. Its voice coming out as a mix of gurgles and groans with an overly sweet edge that he could barely understand.
"You would have loved this, old man. Or have smacked me black and blue with that walking stick of yours." Chris said fondly, trying to keep back his tears. "You told me not to experiment, but I managed to get a pitcher plant from my world, at least the concept of it, and fused it with that 'sweet tree' thing you spoke about—two carnivorous plants with different means of catching prey fused into one." He said softly before dragging the water jar from the storeroom, pouring out the pitiful amount of gathered water and filling it with the sweet pitcher's amber-like honey, hearing it warn him against eating this batch, making him wonder for a brief moment if that meant it could create honey he could eat or other kinds of fluids. Shaking his head of such thoughts, he dragged the jar now filled with honey over to the ancient-looking tree with visible effort.
"Do you think you can drag this into the underground area you made for me when I ask?" It told him in its persistently slow tone that it could do that, while raising a thick root around the pot's base to help make its point before gently resting it back down.
"Good, that is exactly what I need." He said softly, ignoring the concern-laced tones from the various other plants as they tried to question his actions and the excited way the sweet pitcher tried to speak with them.
He retrieved the old man's body, treating it with utmost care as he first carried it to the cloud tree, mentally noting how light he was, something that did bring tears to his eyes this time. He had the tree lightly rain across the body to help him clean away the blood and dirt, noting the various scars, marks, holes, and even strange tattoo-like marks before changing him into the cleanest set of robes he could find in the old man's room, gently carrying him to the pot of honey sap.
When the cloud tree asked how he would store water now, Chris finally acknowledged the plants, telling the cloud tree he would find a way in a broken tone that seemed to disturb the older plants before he gently laid the old man into the honey-like liquid. Had he been able to see the old man's body, he would have noticed the slight twitch of his fingers and how the various tattoo-like marks began to ever so subtly glow.
He watched the ancient ent slowly drag the pot holding the old man to his final resting place. Refusing to look away as the roots slowly wrapped around the jar and pulled it into the soil, a few covering its top to prevent the sand from falling into it as the ground soon smoothed out back to how it was before, looking as if it had never been disturbed.
With shaky legs he walked a short distance away from the ancient ent, planting the final two seeds he had been carrying with him. Each one sprouted somewhat slower than the others before rapidly spreading into a field of white daisy-like flowers with a single, long, pollen-covered pistil, and blood red lilies with many pistils and equal amounts of pollen coating them. The flowers of both new plants seemed to shiver in a wave, letting pollen float into the air before they seemed to move in a way he could only describe as dancing.
Soon he heard them singing softly in his mind. "Moon drop daisies and blood red lilies, the first plants you taught me about, your personal favorite plants." He whispered as his gaze swept over them. "You let that slip at the end of that lesson, getting lost in a memory, and you told me how they saved your life in your youth, but you never explained how." He shook his head. "You just told me they rapidly spread and make their own berries that have an intoxicating effect when eaten together, as if that explained everything." He let out a small laugh as tears began to run down his face. "Perfect for making cheap alcohol if juiced and mixed with water." He whispered softly as he gently rubbed some of their petals and reached to just under them to find fat white berries at the base of the daisies and similar green ones from the lilies.
"I guess this damn skill is good for something after all." He quietly lamented before lowly humming along to the sad yet hopeful song he heard the flowers singing in his mind. The other plants having grown quiet before steadily starting to sing along with them, creating a symphony in his head.
As he began to clean the area, doing as the old man taught him in the short time they spent together to try and distract himself, he chose to leave the minotaur head for the vines after they begged him to let them keep it as a trophy, going so far as to threaten him when he tried to clear it away after telling them no.
The newly grown flowers continued to sing, one song after another, with a few reminding him of his old world that bred a small smile as he got lost in past memories. Only once he was done clearing the area, the sun steadily sitting on the horizon, did he harvest the berries from the freshly grown flowers and climb to sit on one of the ancient ent's branches.
"In the stories I read." He began softly, looking at the distant horizon. "The old mentor tended to live for a long time no matter the setting, acting as a guide for their students till they either weren't needed or some kind of chain of events separated them; rarely did they die like this, though." He continued somberly.
"When it did happen, it was only after the main character was strong enough to take care of themselves." He continued, his breath hitching as he tried to hold back a fresh set of tears. "I guess a large part of me thought it would be the same for you, that only when I was ready would you pass, or turn out to be some kind of super powerful person or something." His breath hitched as he laughed bitterly.
"I didn't even get to know your name, nor tell you mine… You took me in regardless and never really questioned anything. Sure you complained a lot, and I know I probably didn't make things easy for you, but you kept trying to teach me to make the best use of the gift given to me. You told me about so many different plants, both magical and mundane. You even told me a bit about those of myth." He continued with another bitter laugh before eating the berries.
He found the taste to be a blend of sweet, tart, and bitter all at once but not entirely unpleasant, slowly bringing with them the intoxicating nature the old man had warned him about, making his cheeks go red and his head foggy. "The shadow vine said you had hopes for this place to become a safe haven." He commented, gaze now sweeping across the village. "And I remember your story you told me about how legends called the Barrens a place of peace and prosperity. I can't even begin to imagine this dust bowl ever being that way, rather I will be the one to make it that way in your memory, old man. I will turn this place not only into one of safety and prosperity but also one that stands above everywhere else in this world in terms of beauty." He finally added with determination, a fire growing inside of him. He wasn't sure if it was from resolve or the intoxicating nature of the berries, but he didn't care. "Elves, if they ever come here, will weep at how nature-filled, bountiful, and beautiful this land will become."
A faint wind blew as he watched the sun slowly sink behind the horizon, pollen steadily carried by it to only it knew where. With a sigh he stood with wobbly legs, the ancient ent gently plucking him with its branches and setting him down softly before he made his way to the vine-wrapped hut to rest for the night, knowing it was the safest place to be.
A distance away a lone centaur watched from a faint outcropping, tasked by its leader to watch the green bringer. At first it felt annoyed at such a mundane task, feeling it was a waste of his potential. He would have much rather been out on a hunt with his herd. He found his leader's belief in their shaman's prophecy and predictions to be superstitious and baseless, but then he saw with his own eyes how Chris grew green plants at an unbelievable pace. The respect he showed the old man's body took him further by surprise.
"Strange and different, showing respect and tribute to his fallen rather than leaving them scattered upon the field of battle like so many others of his kind." He whispered, hints of respect building in his mind. "For once the shamans may be right; perhaps the green shall return to this cursed land. The madness could finally be broken." He said in clear thought. "Grow strong, green spreader. Show us more of what you are able to do." He finally added before looking towards the dungeon from where an angry howl rang out, his bow notched with an arrow as he galloped over to thin the tide of beasts it had let loose.