Eve and Franky rushed through the park with their aunt in tow—Luka said he needed magical help, and the kooky mystic was the best spell caster for a hundred miles. Sol was an interesting, peculiar woman, one who the siblings had a tentative relationship with at best. But—as fate would have it, the family met a reincarnated man who has helped them rekindle their lost bond.
As Emberwood Village’s only mystic—and potentially the reason for Emberwood Mine’s collapse—Sol rarely left her cottage. But today, and many from the last few months, was different. The home was her fortress, her abode, her magical lair. It was enchanted to the ceiling with powerful wards and reality-bending protections. Did she need these protections? No. But she also pissed off more than a few Guild Mages recently, so.
Eve glanced back at her aunt, her face hard. While she would be pressed to admit it, Eve was the only one that had a problem with Sol. She glanced at her brother, finding an aloof grin. She smiled back at him. Franky was too easy going to stay mad at Sol forever—even if she was responsible for their parents’ deaths.
“Where are we going?” Sol asked, shouting over the noise from the park. The guests were in a frenzy, news of the VIPs out in droves. It seemed everyone planned to be here for their arrivals.
Sol was old. And yet, her skin looked like green porcelain, and she was smoother than a newborn baby. She wore robes that dragged in the dirt, collecting sticks and ticks, and enough jewelry to give a queen pause. Bracelets and bone amulets bounced with her every step, her black beady eyes scaring off most—the raven on her head scaring off the rest.
Set in a headdress with its wings stretched, Sol’s familiar rested. From a glance, the little beast looked taxidermied. And maybe it was. No one besides Sol knew—albeit it did squawk and take flight occasionally… but that could be necromancer spells… or the bird could just be alive. No one dared ask.
Eve gnawed the inside of her lip where her tusk met skin. It was a bad habit, she knew, but one she picked up from constantly being the responsible one out of their little family of three. “To Luka,” she said flatly.
Eve instantly kicked herself for her tone. She knew, along with her brother, that Sol’s involvement in their parents’ deaths was bad luck at worst. Luka and she had spent many nights talking about the events leading up to and after the mine’s collapse. Sol had been involved, and ultimately blamed by many of the long-gone villagers, but Sol wasn’t a killer. Accidents happened—simple as that. Eve just needed more time to forgive…
The trio passed a window leading into a pizza shop. Eve glanced in but only found her reflection in the glass. She missed a step, stumbling to catch herself. She paused briefly to look at herself, two words echoing in her mind.
Forgive who? Herself or her aunt?
She already knew the answer, no matter how tough it was to admit. Franky and Sol stopped beside her, eyeing her and the steaming pizza pies waiting a few steps yonder.
“Hungry?” Franky asked. “Might as well bring a few pizzas over to Luka. I get the feeling it’s going to be a long night.”
Eve distantly nodded, lost in her own mind. Franky took that as answer enough and slipped into the shop, punching the first of the orc operating the oven in greeting. Soon enough, a dozen pizzas were getting tossed and sauced.
“Aunty…”
Sol stood beside Eve, fiddling with a cubic glyph recursor—a magical tool used to augment magical glyphs. She stopped and looked at her niece.
Eve took a moment to speak, and when she did her voice wavered. “I’m… I just wanted to say—”
A burst of wind killed the words in her throat and rushed down the park street. Orange fallen leaves were swept asunder, whipped into a frenzy and sent down the lane. The bungalow bucket seats of the WHEEL swooshed side to side while continuing to cycle guests through the air. A fluted hat caught off a kid and tumbled into the dirt.
Then the ground rumbled.
“What did Luka do!?” Sol snapped over the wind, her arm pressed into the stone foundation of the pizzeria.
Crouching slightly, Eve yelled back, “How do you know it was him!?” Sol just gave her a look. “Okay! Okay! It was probably Luka!”
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Franky then pushed through the shop’s door. “What did Luka do!? He can start earthquakes now!?”
Eve gritted her teeth and refused to look at her aunt, already knowing the smug smile she was giving. Instead, she shoved her hands into her pockets and braced through the wind, heading off to find her troublemaker friend. Sol followed.
“I’ll wait for the pizzas, don’t worry!” Franky yelled after them.
***
Judge Ben found Mayor Tram standing outside the park near the royal highway leading into and away from the city of Sneerhome. A shipment of various cheeses, milks, and creams was due to arrive at any minute.
“—and that’s why I’ve come to collect you,” Ben said, standing next to his wife with his arm loosely wrapped around her waist.
Mayor Tram bristled against his touch before glancing around. They were alone. She melted into his arm, the stress from the day fading. She chuckled softly—three VIPs coming to the park at once? She and Luka had joked about this eventual outcome, but neither of them thought it would happen so soon.
The tender moment ended, and the elderly Tram gently pushed away from her husband. She adjusted her traditional orcish clothes—a sleeveless baggy shirt fell to her ankles like a dress. Around her neck, bones threaded with twine bounced like wind chimes. She sniffled once, twice, then sneezed.
“Uhhh,” she groaned, adjusting the many piercings in her nose. She had several—each long like mane of a quillboar and striped like the earth—and whenever she sneezed, they all shifted.
“Coming down with something?” Ben asked, rocking gently on his feet. They stood at the edge of Emberwood’s property on a service road watching the wagons pass by. It was peaceful out here, away from the chaos of screaming kids and enthralled teenagers.
Tram craned her hunched back, sending a cascade of loud pops down her spine. “Unlikely,” she eventually said with a tired huff. “There’s just some pollen on the wind—”
It was then a certain burst of World Tree wind rushed through the forest. Ben and Tram froze and watched the emberwood trees sway.
Then, quietly, Tram asked, “What did he do now?”
“How do you know it was him? It could have been a number of things.”
“Like what?”
Ben hummed long and low, thinking—then stopped when the ground shook. “Never mind.”
Tram gave him a pat. “It’s always something with Luka, isn’t it?”
He lamely shrugged. “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The old woman chuckled at that. “I guess I wouldn’t—” She froze again.
Across the way, adjacent to the park and Emberwood Village, leaves breached the treetops like an erupting volcano. They were orange with streaks of yellow and wide—double the size of the emberwood tree’s leaves.
“What in the—” Ben’s words died in his throat.
They stood and watched the leaves expand and grow. Higher and higher they went, occasional branches visible through the dense foliage. Millions of leaves appeared in moments, then two million, then three. Soon the skyline changed—from relatively smooth treetops to a “tower” surrounded by a forest.
The tower was made of bark and wood—a tree, one the width of the village and tall enough to touch the clouds. Birds swarmed high through the air, taking off in large flocks and circling the forest’s newest member. They landed on the lowest branches, disappearing as they explored the wide perching areas.
The tree finally slowed in its growth, its shadow blocking out the sun. The tree then shivered, and sunlight traveled through its leaves and trunk unobstructed like glass.
Ben closed his agape mouth, then slowly checked on his wife. A few paces behind them, the royal highway had stopped—all wagons and mounts standing motionless in the road. Everyone stared at the tree.
Then Tram giggled. Then she chuckled. Then she laughed and cackled. She held her belly and bellowed, her hunched back craning back and forth like stalks of hay in the wind from the humorous throes in her gut.
“Um, dear?” Ben tentatively asked. While the sudden massive tree was interesting—and absolutely awe inspiring—the fact his wife was laughing like a madwoman drew his focus.
“I’m going to kill him!” Tram announced, throwing her hands up before the giggles took control again. She allowed herself to laugh for a moment before forcing them away. “I’m really going to kill him!”
Ben scratched the back of his head. “You don’t know it’s Luka’s fault.” He said it in a muted tone, one that betrayed his actual thoughts on the matter—this was one hundred percent Luka’s actions.
The giggles devolved into a low growl then a tired sigh. Tram shook her head and said, “Well come on then, let’s go see what happened and why a new world tree sprouted in our backyard.”
Ben swallowed, his body like a statue. “Did you say ‘new’ world tree?”
“Well what else could it be?”
“Just… a big tree?”
Tram patted him gently on the back, tightly smiling at his innocence. “This is why I love you, you know that?”