"Aaand the System window is gone," Vespera muttered under her breath.
We were walking down a cramped, winding stair built inside the trunk of the tree, having accepted Calyx's offer of hospitality. He needn't have insisted too much, because as soon as he mentioned that he had food and drinks, Vespera was immediately hooked, and even Elyra's hesitation was somewhat mollified. As for me, my stomach growled immediately as if on cut. We all laughed, and that was the end of discussions.
"It is unfortunate we lost the possibility to unlock a General Skill," Elyra said.
"I apologize for that," Calyx said.
Vespera perked up. "What for, plant boy?" she asked in her usual snappy tone, but it was colder than usual. "Did you perhaps have a way to help and you didn't tell us?"
"Vespera," I warned her.
"The only way would have been to fight the tree," the dryad said meekly. "Although, I am glad you chose not to."
The demon wasn't done. "Well, now that we are allies, your tree could have just coughed up a core or something!"
The dryad's cheeks were bright red. "I…"
"Vespera…" I said again. "Stop teasing him."
She crossed her arms, pouting. "I'm just sayin'."
Elyra shook her head, amused at her antics. Then she saw Calyx's face, and her amusement melted into worry. "You have upset him," she said sternly. "Apologize."
Vespera huffed. "I'm sorry, plant boy. You should grow some bark and thorns, though. You can't let some random comments affect you like this. Especially after literally reducing Buck to a pile of bones just because he didn't know about spaceship and shit. I mean, who does in this day and age, am I right?"
Fortunately, her rant ended when we arrived in a small room shortly after. It was completely made out of wood, from the walls to the furniture, and four glasses filled with a strange golden liquid were already waiting for us on a small table.
"This is ambrosia, nectar of the tree and my only sustenance. I know it's not enough to be forgiven for making you lose your chance at gaining more System power, but it is all I can offer."
I nodded in thanks, lifting the glass and taking a sip. Elyra followed, with Vespera giving us some serious side-eye like she wanted to be upset but also wanted to take a sip, and didn't know which of the two behaviors should prevail. When the angel drank, a little moan of pleasure escaped her lips and she turned two shades redder, eyes widening in sudden shy panic.
"Ah, whatever," Vespera said and drank a big gulp. Then her eyebrows went up. "Dayum. Spacer boy, I think we can forgive the plant boy."
Elyra chuckled. "Do you want to hear his story?"
"Nah, nah, the story is a given," the demon said. "Plant boy, story now or no amount of ambrosia will make me change my mind. Speaking of, can I get a refill?"
I chuckled, noticing how the dryad was trying to shrink into himself as if wishing he could disappear. "That's Vespera for you. You're not used to people, are you?"
"I am used to seeing people in their last moments, when they lash out against fate before their inevitable death. That is all I have ever known. To be given the gift of language, but only being able to use it to deliver the same line over and over. A line that, inevitably, was also a death sentence."
"Well," I said. "No more. Use that tongue of yours to—what?"
Vespera was chuckling. "Nothing," she waved me away. "Do go on. Tell Calyx how he should use his tongue. He is definitely not blushing."
I glared at her. "I was saying." I did my best to ignore the fact that the dryad was indeed blushing. "I am very curious about your tale. How do trees and dryads know of space travel?"
"It is not my tale. Rather, it is the tree's. I do not know all of it, but I can tell you what little of it I know. Before that, however, the tree wonders, and has insisted that I ask. If I can…"
"Go on," I encouraged him.
"How does a photon know it is being watched? The tree has been mulling over the question ever since you spoke of it."
"I don't know," I said. It was the truth.
"Then, do you not know the answer to your own riddle?"
"I'll stop you right there," I said with a chuckle, seeing that he was working himself up to a frenzy. "The riddle asks why, not how. It was I who, after telling the riddle, asked how—just in case you happened to know."
"It is as you say. The riddle asks why the photon hides itself. Why is it, Sol Nightguard?"
"Because it is in its nature," I replied. "Because it, unlike us, is bound by rules."
"I am also—"
Vespera coughed. "You were, but you ain't anymore. You have Sol to thank for that."
The dryad didn't know what to say, but new tears welled up in his eyes. Poor thing, subjected to Vespera's teasing, even though this time the teasing had been surprisingly wholesome.
"So," I said. "The story?"
Calyx took a moment to compose himself. "I don't know how to tell this tale…" he chuckled nervously. "I have seen images, in my dreams. Flashes of memories, not my own but the tree's. I tried to piece them together as best I could. Here is what I know:
"Once upon a time, there were great trees that reached all the way up into the sky. They were so big that they could pierce the clouds, their branches reaching into a place where the blue of day became the black of night, and the stars no longer flickered. The light was harsh there, and there was no air, but the spirits of the trees found a way to let the trees grow even taller without dying. Those ancient dryads changed the trees so that their leaves could take the light of the many stars and convert it into magic.
"In time, they wished to no longer just watch the heavens above, but to join them. They used this magic to conjure a force, severing the bond of the trees with their mother earth. No longer tied to the soil, they were free to wander the great shores of this waterless and airless sea. They left something behind, a terrible sacrifice of a bond broken…"
He paused, wiping away a lone tear.
"Hey," Vespera said softly. Her eyes were so understanding, so filled with care for the poor little thing. I knew why that was, of course. "Breaking a bond is a terrible thing. I would never do it."
"And yet," Calyx said solemnly. "The trees' bond with the earth was not like the bond you share with your man. It was a bond much more akin to slavery, and the freedom of space called to the trees and their dryads both. Eventually, they could resist no more.
"Unexpectedly, the sacrifice also brought new discoveries. There was magic in this strange place between the stars, of more flavors than could be counted. The stars were sources of powerful yet deadly mana, sharp and piercing. The planets were full of nurturing life, sometimes, while at other times they were realms of fire and cold rock. A few were brimming with potential, and so the dryads spread the seeds of life anywhere they went."
"The dryads turned their trees into spaceships," I said. It was crazy to think about.
Calyx nodded. "That is so. And in order to navigate the strange currents of magic and interstellar gravity, they created a new form of life: the treeminds. That is how the trees themselves became sentient, just like the tree I am bound to."
And, I thought, that must have been where he was getting the words for gravity, space, and the other concepts that he was using. He wasn't even aware he was getting them from the tree, and he talked as if in a trance, but I could see the emerald vibrance in his eyes.
"What happened then?" asked Elyra.
She was thinking the same thing I was thinking. Something must have happened, or else Calyx wouldn't be crying and this planet wouldn't be as messed up as it was.
"The old dryads found something," he said gravely. "A… signal, they called it. It was like a siren song, strange and alluring, yet completely alien. It captivated some, terrified others. A few went to investigate. They never returned. When the others attempted to contact them, no voices called back. Not even the wild breaking of the waves of space. Nothing.
"Some dryads tried to find the missing ones, but anyone who got close to where they had disappeared also vanished without a trace. Eventually, the cause of the disappearances was found. A great void that eats all magic, impossible to see with normal tools save for the great shadow that it casts upon the rest of the vibrant universe. It originated from the same place as the signal, and it was expanding, eating all magic and leaving the universe sterile and bare.
"The dryads did not want that. They fought, and they lost. They ran, seeking shelter on the surface of planets where the void was weaker, but still it gave chase. It ate at their magic, bringing the inevitable end of their race. Before it could happen, the last surviving dryads decided to die on their terms. They gave their life to create the System. It was not enough. So they gave up their nature, their everything. It was still not enough. So they cursed themselves, so that no more dryads could ever exist in the universe. You see, I'm not really a dryad. I am a male, therefore I will never be a real dryad. I am simply the tree's keeper."
"Did they succeed?" Vespera asked.
"The System has kept the great void contained. Occupied, so to speak. So that it is too busy to consume all magic. It is a battle of attrition that has gone on for fifteen thousand years. This is why I cannot say that they have succeeded fully. The System is losing, bleeding energy to the great void as we speak. Soon, all that will remain will be the harsh light of the stars, sterile and dead."
Fifteen thousand years… I mulled over it for a while. It was the same amount the System had claimed the girls had been imprisoned underground for.
"Hence the riddle," I said. "To find someone to help. Why kill whoever fails to answer correctly, though?"
"It was the rules, from before my time. I must tend to the tree now," Calyx said. "The treemind grows tired after being awake for so long, and it needs to recuperate its energy. Beyond that door you will find a room to rest for the night, while the beast tide ravages the land outside."
With that, he was gone.
◈◈◈
"It seems that we aren't the only ones who get random flashes of memory from the past," I said as we settled in the wooden room. It was small but cozy, with a giant bed that looked very, very comfortable.
"I wonder how the beast tides fit into the story he told," Vespera mused.
"Let's not forget," I added. "The connection with you two."
"Us?" Elyra asked.
I nodded. "You. I don't think it's a coincidence you have been trapped for exactly the same amount of time he says the System has existed."
"Millennia are long, Sol." Vespera said. "Lotsa stuff can happen even in a few centuries. Let alone a millennium."
I had to agree. "But, it's in the ballpark. It's worth thinking about."
"Right. Right." The demon smiled. "Anyway, spacer boy. You saved us yet again."
"I did?"
She chuckled. "Sure you did. Without you, we wouldn't have been able to answer the riddle. We might have some memories and get some flashes now and again, but I can speak for both of us when I say that we know nothing about spaceships and relativity. I think some thanks are in order."
She approached me, blinking slowly and without breaking eye contact. With a snap of her fingers, her armor was gone. My eyes inevitably fell on her body. How could I resist looking?
"Like what you're seeing, spacer boy? It's just the appetizer."
She touched me, grabbing my arm and running her hands all over my back. Then, I felt a strange presence touch me from below and I saw the spade-shaped tip of her tail snake up between my legs, twitching like a shy rattlesnake.
"Hiss," Vespera moaned in my ear. "A snake's coming to eat ya. What are you going to do about that, spacer boy?"
Chapter 38.5 NSFW preview:
I let my pants fall to the ground.
"Daring," Vespera purred. "I didn't expect it from you, spacer boy."
"Well," I said, trying to play coy, "I wouldn't want your snake to tear up my only pair of pants while trying to bite me."
"And you'd let him bite you, then?" she asked, moving her tail closer.
I couldn't feel its texture through the underwear, but I could feel the slight contractions of the many muscles inside of it. It snaked closer, brushing against me with its spade end. Meanwhile, the rest of the tail coiled tight around my left leg, slithering forward and up. It was cold, rubbery, and slightly wet.
I touched it, and my fingers came back sticky with thick goo.
"Built-in lubrication," Vespera whispered. "It's the same stuff that comes out of my...
[Continues on Patreon]