Morning came grey and cold with a strong wind carrying dust that clung to everything, from armor to skin and their few remaining supplies the party still had.
The knight, Sir Aldric, stood at the edge of their camp with his arms crossed, staring in the direction of the village with the same expression he'd worn for the past three days: suspicion wrapped in certainty.
He'd been humiliated, but beyond that, none of them seemed to realize the danger that person held towards them.
His humiliation and realization about the place didn't come from Lyra. No, he wasn't so fragile as to let the words of a spoiled noble affect him; it was because of those plants. The vile vines that had wrapped around his scout like snakes. That horrid bamboo that had knocked him flat when he'd spoken his honest thoughts about their grower to the traitorous knight, regardless of whether he was trying to provoke her so he could attack. That damn place made him feel like a child playing at war.
He wouldn't forget it any time soon; it wasn't something he would or could accept.
"Sir Aldric."
He turned to find Lyra standing behind him, her coat pulled tight against the wind, her dark hair whipping across her face with a tired look on her face. None had slept much the last few days, taking turns standing watch, but even then they didn't sleep much, fear that a wave of beasts would overwhelm them. He knew it wouldn't happen, though; they seemed too obsessed with that accursed place, just more proof of it being a cursed place that the empire would need to take care of.
"We leave within the hour," she said bluntly in a way that irritated him. "I want everyone ready."
"The scout is still checking the perimeter. The mage and ranger are—"
"I know where they are." Her voice was flat as she cut him off. "I'm telling YOU to be ready." Aldric's jaw tightened, knowing it was another insult towards him. "My lady, I've served your family for fifteen years. I've bled for your father, so please listen to me when I tell you I've—"
"You've caused a diplomatic incident in the past and almost did so again while endangering this party and proved that your pride matters more to you than your orders." Lyra's green eyes held his, burning with anger. "I haven't forgotten that time, and neither has my father. When we return, there will be questions. I don't care about how long you have been in our service; your actions today will not go without an answer."
He said nothing, simply nodding, but he knew once he gave his own report through the channels he had formed over the years, her threat would mean little.
She stared at him for a few moments longer before turning and walking back towards where he saw the others already gathering. His fists clenched tightly, the metal of his gauntlets creaking ever so slightly while he ground his teeth.
That bastard and his plants — it was all their fault, but they would answer for this, for all of it. He would make sure of it.
He watched as Lyra began to speak with the healer about supplies and noticed how the mage and ranger were sorting through their own gear with their attention elsewhere. When he noticed the scout, he subtly went over, giving him the report he had written out previously and ordered him to rush back to the capital, to deliver it as far up as possible before heading back to the village at a fast pace, going so far as to use the little magic he knew to enhance his speed.
He knew the others would either follow him or continue on; regardless of which, he wouldn't be stopped. He had come this far already and could be a good distraction to increase the distance between them and the scout if they did come back for him.
He arrived as the sun began to just slowly sink, noticing how the gate was closed tighter than before and the various plants seemingly agitated, but he'd watched the others pass in and out of the bamboo enough times to know the bamboo could be parted if pressed hard enough. And the plants, from the vines to the thorn bushes and screaming flowers, while being defense, didn't mean they couldn't be tested. It would be valuable information to report back.
'If I can prove they're weak,' he thought with a grin. 'If I can prove that the grower's power is just a trick, then we will have a far stronger point for negotiations and to take control.'
He didn't finish the thought. He was already walking with purpose towards the gate.
The bamboo didn't react as he approached like they did before.
That was the first surprise. He'd expected it to harden, to shift or to do something. But the silver stalks stood still, their leaves rustling in the wind like any ordinary plant.
'They either don't see me as a threat, or this is proof it was a trick!'
The thought made him angry. If it was the former, then why did it not see him as a threat? He was a knight of the Solarian Empire, veteran of three border campaigns, sworn sword to House Jarves. He had killed men. He had killed DEMONS! And these plants, these WEEDS, ignored him!
He reached the gate and pushed himself through.
The bamboo parted, soft and flexible, offering no resistance at all. Like stepping through water. He frowned as he found the mist was thicker here, curling around his boots, his armor and even across his face. The flowers along the walls were closed, no doubt only blooming during the day then — a useless fact but a fact nonetheless — but their scent lingered, sweet and heavy as if mixed into the mist.
He drew his sword regardless, though, not to attack just yet but rather as a precautionary measure.
He found the village to be larger than he'd expected.
From outside, it had looked like a cluster of trees and vines, a primitive place and barely civilized. But inside, he saw there was order. Rows of bamboo forming corridors with patches of grass that seemed to shift as he walked. Even the trees seemed to have been arranged in patterns that felt intentional, and his instincts screamed that it was defensive.
It did little to ease the feeling of being watched.
He steadily moved deeper, his sword held low as his eyes scanned through the mist that parted around him and closed behind. It was as if the village was swallowing him whole.
"Where the hell is that grower?" He'd expected Chris to appear by now, to challenge him or even just demand answers; it would allow him to call him out on his trickery. But the village was silent. Far too silent, not even a trace of him, the demon or the traitor knight. It caused him to stop and frown, finally trying to listen intently.
There was nothing.
No birds. No insects. Just the soft rustle of leaves and the distant hum of something he couldn't identify drifting through the air.
He was turning to leave, some small, surviving instinct screaming in his mind that this was a mistake, when he faintly saw the bamboo move.
Not the gates, but rather a few of the stalks lining the path behind him. They shifted steadily, sliding together in larger numbers than he remembered as they closed the route he'd taken. Blocking his exit.
He frowned and quickly spun, doing what he could to try and keep his composure as he continued down the path ahead, but he felt as if the walls on either side had grown closer than before, as if the bamboo had moved while he wasn't looking, narrowing the corridor and herding him.
He started walking faster, ignoring how the mist thickened, and missing the flowers slowly opening. If he had noticed them, he would have seen how they appeared small with petals that seemed to shimmer, their centers dark and pulsing. Scream flowers.
He'd heard about them from the scout — how they'd pulsed when he tried to sneak over the wall, disorienting him, making him easy prey for the vines — and had seen them earlier.
Aldric raised his sword, finally noticing them through the fog. "I'm not afraid of you!"
The flowers pulsed as if in challenge.
What followed started as a soft thrum at the edge of hearing, a vibration in his skull that made his vision blur and his stomach start to lurch, causing him to stumble before catching himself on one of the bamboo stalks. Then he felt it shifting in his grip, becoming far more flexible before becoming rigid again before returning to being flexible, making his body sway worse.
"Stop."
The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. It wasn't a yell or whisper, but somewhere in between and extremely old.
Aldric looked up and found himself staring at the massive tree that stood at the entrance of the village, its bark face turned toward him, its branches spread wide like arms ready to embrace or crush, somehow having found himself back at the entrance.
"You were not invited," the Ent rumbled, making him realize the voice belonged to this tree, to the face staring down at him.
"I am a knight of the Empire! I go where I please."
"Perhaps back where you had come from, but here you go where you are allowed."
The bamboo on either side of him hardened, becoming solid walls while being half-pointed towards him, not blocking anymore but threatening. He could see the razor edges now, the way the stalks had flattened into blades. Admitting, perhaps only to himself, that maybe it wasn't tricks, maybe there was something more to this place.
His hand tightened on his sword as he tried to speak with more confidence than he had.
"I could cut through this entire village," he threatened.
"You could try." A new voice, far closer, answered, making him turn.
Chris stood at the end of the path with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. The bark-like ridges on his forearms caught the last of the evening light while the black lines from his wrists disappeared into his sleeves. He didn't look angry or even afraid.
He just looked tired instead, as if he had been through far too much and still had to keep going despite it.
"Put the damn sword away," Chris said with an eye roll.
"Or what? Your plants will kill me? I would like to see you try!"
Chris simply sighed and shook his head. "No," he softly said as he began to step closer. The bamboo didn't move, but the mist did part around him like he was the only real thing in the village. "They won't kill you, and neither will I. They'll just... hold you and allow me to keep you till Lyra comes to get you, or until someone comes here again from your 'empire' and asks for you, and then needing to give me a satisfactory answer as to why one of their knights broke into my home and got himself captured for trespassing."
Aldric's jaw tightened. "You think I'm afraid of—"
"I think you're an idiot." Chris stopped a few paces away as he cut him off, noticing the pulsing vein at his temple throbbing in anger at being cut off. "I think you're so wrapped up in your pride that you can't see what's right in front of you. I think you came here expecting a monster, and instead you found a village with people who just want to be left alone. And that offends you, especially as I won't bend to your stupid little empire's rules that I don't even know."
"You're harboring a demon!"
"I'm harboring a person who just happens to be a demon. Who helped me improve this place." Chris's voice was flat. "Your Empire threw Sera away. Your Empire would have let Korr die in the Barrens regardless of the fact his own had cast him out. Your Empires, be they human or demon, seem to like to use people and then just toss them away. I don't, and I won't let this place become anything like that."
"You're a traitor to the world and the gods' teachings."
"I'm not from your world." Chris almost smiled as he said that. "I owe your Empire and your gods nothing, and I owe YOU nothing."
Aldric raised his sword, having heard enough as a hot anger gripped him.
The bamboo moved before he could swing.
Not the stalks beside him, but ones that had somehow snuck up behind him. A cluster of silver shoots that had been growing along the wall, unremarkable, easy to ignore as they blended into the Ent wall.
They struck like spears without him even realizing at first, but not at him — rather moving past him. Three shoots drove into the ground in front of his feet, blocking his advance. Two more crossed behind his back, hemming him in as a sixth wrapped around his sword arm — not tight enough to crush, but firm enough to hold him and stop his swing.
He couldn't move, and when one began to wrap around his throat through a gap in his armor, it made him feel powerless as he knew it could choke him into unconsciousness or snap his neck easily.
"The plants act on their own now, just so you know," Chris said quietly. "I don't even have to think about it anymore and rarely need to command them personally these days. They know what I want or what I need. And right now? They know I don't want to hurt you, so they won't, even if they want to."
"Let me go," he demanded angrily, fighting against the vines.
"No," Chris said simply as he slowly stepped closer, close enough that Aldric could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the weight he carried. "I'm going to give you a chance to think about what you tried to do, and then I'm going to let you go. And when I do, you're going to walk back to your party and you're going to tell Lyra that you made a mistake and have been banned from ever coming back here."
"I won't—"
"You will." Chris's voice was soft but firm. "Because the next time you come here, my plants won't hold you. They'll feed and bury you instead."
The bamboo and vines steadily released him, showing him how many had wrapped around him without him even realizing it.
As Chris turned around and walked away, the path reopened behind Aldric, who now stood alone in the corridor, the bamboo firming up and all but making sure he could see the exit, his sword still in his hand but his heart had begun to pound furiously.
"One more thing," Chris said, pausing as he turned to look at him. "Tell Lyra I'm sorry she has to deal with you. She seems like she's trying to do the right thing, or at least is doing what she can to be neutral without the tinted glasses you seem to wear."
Aldric barely managed to catch up to the party, even making liberal use of his limited magic, a new camp already having been set up and the embers of the fire slowly dying. He found Lyra on guard, yet it felt like she had been waiting for him.
She didn't ask what happened or what he had done; she didn't need to. The look on his face told her everything already.
"My lady, I…" He didn't know what to say.
"Don't. Hold your tongue, and we will speak in the morning. Till then, get out of my sight. You've done far more than enough already. What you no doubt did will just be another mark against you."
He nodded with his head down but jaw set in a tight scowl as he walked past her.
Back in the village, the flowers sang soft and mocking, their voices carrying on the wind as the Ancient Ent and Chris with his eyes closed let out a sigh.
"You could have hurt him," the voice whispered. "You should have after what he did. He'll cause even more problems now, using what happened as proof to paint you as a threat. He'll spin the events that happened to be far more monstrous. He'll make them want to destroy you, take this place or even enslave you."
Chris didn't answer. The voice had a point, but he wouldn't kill or actively make enemies; he wouldn't be the one to antagonize or create the problem.
"You're too soft," it eventually told him flatly.
"Maybe," Chris admitted. "But I'm still me, and I still make my own choices."
The voice went quiet, knowing whatever argument it could have had ended there and then.