Lyra's party didn't leave immediately after departing the village. Instead, they talked among themselves, but since they didn't try anything, he left them be and went along with his daily routine, tending to his village.
Lyra's group spent the rest of the morning packing what was left of their camp. Their movements were slow and deliberate, with only a few sparse words shared between them as none of them wanted to be the first to admit they were retreating. The knight kept glancing at the village walls with something between resentment and reluctant respect. The scout had already vanished into the Barrens, probably scouting ahead for the journey back, no doubt wanting to keep his distance after what had happened.
But the mage and the ranger often found themselves wandering close to the village, whispering among themselves while looking and pointing back and forth between it and the party. The ranger kept running her fingers along her bowstring; clearly, she was nervous.
It was Lyra who, having grown tired of their reluctance, walked to the gate and yelled, "They want to talk to you." She paused for a moment before seemingly steeling herself. "The two from your world."
Chris frowned, having walked over when he got told about Lyra approaching and catching only the end of her first sentence and then the second one. "Why do you or they feel I'm from their world? Maybe the plants are just something I grew by someone else's description or from a book I found?"
"Because they've been staring at you all morning like you're a puzzle they can't solve, and I did notice how you would look at them in return." She finally glanced down at him. "And because the big tree next to the gate told me."
The little world tree's root curled around his ankle, smug and proud as it had asked the Ancient Ent to talk and tell her all that.
When he looked at it questioningly, it happily told him it was because they felt like him but in a different way than the first girl, how they felt like they came from somewhere else just like him, and it felt he may be less lonely if he spoke with his 'old friends'.
Chris sighed. Of course, it would think that because they came from the same world, he would know them; he didn't, of course, but for a plant that had only ever known those grown around it, he couldn't fault it.
From the parting gate, he easily noticed the flustered pair shooting mild glares at Lyra. "Okay, you two can come in. I'd offer you the same, but I would imagine you need to ensure the knight doesn't try anything."
The mage Elara stepped forward toward him and took the lead as the pair followed him into the village once more. Her staff was loose in her grip, not threatening but clearly ready to use, an instinct he assumed. She was younger than he'd first thought. Early twenties, maybe. Pale hair, pale skin, the kind of face that belonged in a library rather than out here in a wasteland.
"You're from Earth," she said in a mousy tone.
Chris didn't bother denying it. "And so are you, oh great 'hero'."
The ranger let out a breath, some of the tension leaving her shoulders, easily picking up on his joking tone. "We were summoned six months ago with some others and were the ones called us heroes. That we'd be given purpose, power and place in the Empire along with a chance to go home 'when the job was done' if we wanted to." She laughed, short and bitter. "We've been running errands for nobles ever since though, or 'training drills' that felt more like tests than anything."
"It definitely doesn't sound like a life of fantasy heroes to me then."
"It isn't. I keep telling Rina here that, but she seems to hold out hope that it's just me being paranoid. The others feel the same and say I'm looking too deeply into things," Elara said flatly. "We're just useful tools to them. They keep us fed and housed and remind us daily how grateful we should be and promises of what we can achieve along with giving us stuff, but I know carrot and stick. I know they're slowly trying to condition us."
They had arrived at the trees now, the cloud tree ever so slightly letting its mist float around them as he offered them some of the fig tree's liquid.
"Why did you come out here?" he eventually asked. "To the Barrens and my village."
Elara and Rina exchanged another look at his question. "You can answer freely. No one can hear you out here, at least I don't think anyone can."
"Officially, it's us following orders to help find the truth of the rumors," Elara said. "A green place in the dead lands. Plants that move. A man who built something from nothing? All of that screamed strong magic and no doubt a resource to exploit and try to put them ahead of the other empires and forces." She paused. "We just wanted to see if it was true for ourselves and if there really was someone like us out here but who was actually making some kind of difference in this world. An actual impact."
"And?"
Rina gestured at the village, at the Ent walls, the bamboo rows, the mist curling through everything and even towards the singing flowers. "In a span of a year, maybe a bit more, you built all this."
"I made a lot of mistakes while doing so. I almost died quite a few times to make what you see possible, and nothing here is without some kind of cost," Chris said flatly.
The silence stretched for a few moments after that, broken only by the flowers singing, soft and distant as their tune carried across the village.
"Do you ever want to go back?" Rina finally asked. Her voice was quieter now. "To what you left behind on Earth."
Chris thought about it. About his cramped apartment, his unfinished finals, the shows he'd never see the end of. About the way he'd died, face-down on a floor while his roommate called his name. For a brief moment, he thought of his parents, but even so.
"No," he admitted, maybe even more to himself than to them.
Rina's face showed surprise at his answer with notes of what he felt was possibly envy. Elara, though, remained silent, her gaze unreadable as she looked at him.
"I died there," Chris explained. "Not in a heroic way either, not saving anyone or even in the most trope-filled way of being hit by a truck. Instead, I just… burned out and collapsed, hitting my head on the way down." He paused. "Even though I still have family back there, it wasn't exactly the best. It's why I buried myself in fantasy and fiction. Back there, I was a loser. Here? Well, not exactly less of a loser, but at least I feel I have a more solid purpose, a direction."
The girls grew quiet for a long moment, Elara giving a small, slow nod.
"I was in a car accident," she eventually said as she gripped her staff. "I don't remember much. Just the sound of metal and then waking up in a temple with a priestess telling me I'd been chosen."
"Chosen for what?"
"I asked the same thing and got told 'to serve the Empire' and meet its goals with the other heroes." Her voice was flat. "That I was to use my magic for their wars and to be grateful for the privilege, while also that I could get anything and everything I want if I work faithfully and devotedly."
Rina lightly rubbed her arm, seemingly a means to try and steady herself.
"I was hiking," she began. "I was alone, and I slipped on something, losing my footing, and then the next thing I knew, I was in a field with a sword in my hand and a noble telling me I was his property now, that the summoning of a hero had worked, and since he performed it, I 'belonged to him', another 'asset' and piece of 'property'."
Chris's jaw tightened. "An asset? His property?"
"We're 'indentured'," Elara said, the word dripping with sarcasm. "I learned it after our second month here. Apparently, we owe them for summoning us, for training us, and lastly for giving us purpose." She shook her head. "We'll be free in ten years, but only if we survive and continue to follow their rules."
The silence that followed was heavier.
Chris looked at the village — at the walls he'd grown, the plants he'd nurtured, the home he'd built from nothing. He thought about Sera, who'd been thrown away by the same Empire. About Korr, who'd been discarded by his own kind. About the old man, who'd spent decades helping strangers in a land that wanted everyone dead, and how different his start was than theirs was — far harder but far freer.
"You could stay," he eventually said.
Rina's head snapped toward him. "What?"
"This village? It's not much, and well, it's really dangerous out here with everything happening. I did want this to be a safe place and a haven that accepts everyone." He paused. "No one here owns anyone. No one here is property. But know that you will need to pull your own weight, and the food won't be amazing in variety or what you were used to, but you won't go hungry. And well, it's not noble-level rooms, but you would have a roof over your heads. Oh, and I would expect you two to fight beside us when needed. If you're willing, you're more than welcome to join us here."
Elara stared at him. "You'd actually let us stay? Just like that?"
"I'd let anyone stay who isn't trying to burn my home down or cause trouble." He looked at her. "But you'd have to leave Lyra's party, and I doubt the Empire would be happy about losing two of their heroes."
Rina let out a short laugh. "The Empire's never happy about anything."
Elara was quiet. Her fingers drummed on her staff — thinking, weighing the choice and considering the pros and cons of the offer.
"We can't," she finally said with a sigh. "At least not yet. Lyra's not like the other nobles we've met up till now. She's…" She paused, searching for words. "She's clearly watching and learning, not set in her ways like so many others. I don't think she's made up her mind about anything yet, not the empire she calls home or even you and this place."
"She came here expecting a monster."
"And she found a man who buries his enemies with respect and is trying to create a haven." Elara met his eyes. "That matters, and it seems to have confused her, showing her something she didn't think was possible."
The ranger nodded. "We'll go back with her for now and try to make closer relations with her. We will also be spreading word about this place as best we can to try and send others here, though. But if things do change or if the Empire decides you're a threat, if they send someone worse, we will try to cut our ties and come here. As rough as things are, we do have some friends of our own there, and we can't stay and abandon them."
He just nodded and finished his own drink before walking away and coming back with a pair of wooden bottles. "Well, consider these parting gifts then, and incentive to come back, my newest brew. Share with your friends and treat it as my carrot without the stick." He joked with a smile, getting a small laugh from Elara.
They stood there for a moment longer after that, just three people from a world that they knew they couldn't go back to.
Then Elara's expression shifted. Her hand tightened on her staff.
"There's something else," she said. "Something I felt when we got close to the dungeon on the way here. The knight wanted to inspect it, but Lyra told him this was more important, so instead of going in we came here, but…"
Chris went still. "What?"
"I heard Lyra talking to the knight about you returning its core, something like that." She paused. "That you told her about something being in it. I felt it in my magic, in my soul…" Her knuckles turned white as she gripped her staff, shaking ever so slightly. "She said you returned its core, but what I could feel from the magic in the air there, it didn't calm down like most dungeons do when their cores are returned. That place isn't a dungeon anymore, at least not like anything I've read about. It feels more like an egg or an incubator, like something is forming…"
He could feel the voice stirring in his mind; it didn't say anything, but he could tell it was paying attention.
"What do you mean?" Chris asked.
Elara shook her head. "I don't know exactly. One of my skills from being a mage lets me feel magic, and the magic there is warped. There are echoes of something growing in there. Something old and hungry." She looked at the village, at the walls, at the plants that watched and listened. "It's angry with you, angry at being slowed, at not being able to spread like it planned." It was all things he already knew, but it made him realize returning the core meant he stopped it from spreading, that it no doubt intended to use the core as a means to extend its reach.
Rina touched Elara's arm as a soft warning. "We should go. Lyra will be looking for us, and we don't want to make the idiot suspicious that we're 'plotting' something." She told them with air quotes, bringing a small smile to Elara's face.
As they approached the gate, Elara stopped for a brief moment, looking directly at Chris. "Be careful," she said softly. "Whatever it is that's lurking in that dungeon? It's been waiting a long time. And I think it's almost ready to do whatever it's been waiting for." And with those parting words, they returned to the waiting Lyra.
Chris stood there for a moment longer, his hand on the knot mark on his wrist.
'She knows. She felt it too. But she isn't touched like you are.' The voice whispered in a singsong tone, taunting him.
He shoved it down. Regardless of whether it was right or not, it wasn't anything new. He already knew all she told him.