“There was once a sandbar here that connected Midscape to the Lifetree. I ask for your help bringing it back to the surface.”
None of them say anything, but I can feel their acquiescence. Even their approval. They disappear back into their elements, retreating. But their presence remains in the wild pulsing of magic.
The ocean churns. Whitecaps froth. Deep within the earth, there is groaning. The sand shifts, falling away as though it’s melting into the waves. But Brundil is persistent. Gruvun pulls back the tides with Volst’s help.
A ribbon of freshly made land stretches between us and the tree.
“Thank you,” I say as I take my first steps upon it. I can still feel Gruvun and Volst expending great effort to keep the water from consuming the new sandbar. Just as I can feel Brundil continuing to shift the earth beneath, the forces of nature aligned but at inherent odds. As we walk, they begin to reach a stasis that will keep this land bridge long enough for us to return.
A reverent hush falls over Evander and me as we near the tree. Our suspicion from afar is proven right—it really does have the same silvery leaves as the trees of Den. Its roots are like a lady’s hair, spilling over the beach and plunging deep, deep into the water, past the point where the fading light can reach. I see shadows moving as we near. Evander takes note of them as well. His muscles bulge, radiating tension. But the creatures beneath the waves don’t surface. Not yet, at least.
A wall of the thick roots blocks our path when we reach the opposite side. I know better than to ask Brundil for help—not just because I already have. But also because I can feel the pure magic that flows through them in place of sap. It is an ancient and immense power.
Evander and I find an opening in the massive roots barely big enough for us to squeeze past. We contort and twist, navigatingthrough. Right at the edge of irrational panic of being trapped within them forever, they end, exposing a sheltered beach.
Spears have been skewered into the sand, giving it a prickly appearance, almost like that of a porcupine. I weave through them, careful not to touch any, as they seem to be made of the same wood as the tree and I can only assume they signify some deep reverence I do not understand.
We make our way to the opposite end, where a man sits by a large blossom. He leans against one of the roots, snoring softly. I pause, staring. He has brown hair and a beard. Clothing I don’t recognize but is distinctly…human. Everything about him screams,human. From his fashions, which are unseen in Midscape, to the curve of his ears. Yet, markings cover his skin, almost like the swirls of thread and delicately embroidered lines of my cape.
“Is he a siren?” Evander whispers hesitantly in my ear.
I shake my head. But I don’t know what he is. My eyes tell me human. But my senses tell me…spirit? I don’t know what to make of him. Perhaps he is some kind of witch like myself?
“Sir?” I ask softly. Not wanting to startle him. He continues to snore. “Sir?” A little louder.
“Kevhan is a heavy sleeper,” a female voice says from behind us.
Evander and I both turn. Him a little faster. A little tenser, ready to strike. But I grab his wrist instantly the moment my eyes behold the figure sitting upon one of the petals of the massive flower. Neither of us even registered its bloom.
A faint sheen of gold coats her skin, swirling among an entire rainbow of color painted across her. Her eyes are the color of a sea on a stormy day, as if they hold all the water that surrounds this island. Gossamer wings, six in total, are more iridescent outlines that catch the last dredges of sunlight extending from her back than anything solid. Honey-gold hair falls over hershoulders, tangling with the bark that she wears like clothing. It moves as though it is part of her skin. As if she is part of the tree itself.
No…sheisthe tree. The rawness of her, ancient and primordial. It strikes me a second later than I would’ve wanted that I am before the Old Goddess of Life.
“Lady Lellia?” I whisper in awe. Evander’s eyes go wide and his whole body relaxes. I think he’s about to fall over from shock.
“Not quite, but close. Common mistake, though. Lady Victoria, please.” The corner of her mouth quirks into a wry smile. Then she clears her throat and loudly says, “Kevhan, we have guests.”
The man finally jolts awake. Sputtering and mumbling. Eyes wide with surprise.
Lady Victoria lets out bright laughter. “Some Keeper of the Lifetree you are. The first time we have outside guests, you’re caught sleeping.”
I didn’t expect an old god to have a sense of humor. A lightness to the air around her. Rather than unsettling me, I find the oddity of it vaguely…comforting. Even though she is clearly not human, there is a humanness to her. A sense of mortality that I don’t even get from the spirits and certainly did not expect to find with an old god.
“Apologies!” Kevhan stands quickly, brushing sand from his trousers. “Welcome, to…the Lifetree?” He glances in her direction, rubbing the back of his neck. “We never really went over what I was supposed to say or do.”
The goddess has an outright grin now. “I wanted to see what you’d come up with. You’re usually so composed.”
“This is all a bit new to me, too.”
“You’ve had nearly three years to settle into your role.”
“My ‘role’ usually involves lazing in the sun and enjoying the waves.”
“Untrue,” she counters, “I have seen you playing stones with Lucia.”
“Only when you are not monopolizing her time.”
Lady Victoria tosses her hair over her shoulder, shifting forward. “She can’t be blamed for wanting a real challenge at stones.”
