Wraithwood Botanist

B2 - Chapter 42 - “My Kline.”

Emael nodded when I asked if she would trust me. You can’t mistake that flower. It’s proof.

I opened the jar and threw it into her mouth when she opened it. She swallowed—and an explosion of soul force knocked Kline and me down, sending Aiden rolling into the pond that had developed around Halten’s body.

Emael collapsed in the dying river, sighing with relief. As she churned her core, the river turned milky and dense, seemingly boiling in on itself.

That’s… Thorvel turned to me, realizing it was the same pattern I was doing when he attacked me.

"She’s cleansing the souls. It helps purify the remnants so that they can be stripped of their negative memories and emotions."

And that’s what you were doing?

"Yes."

Thorvel crouched down, moving his head to me. I could feel his hot breath and see his glassy eyes. His teeth were the size of torpedoes, and his nostrils were the size of basketballs.

Why you?

"I’m not sure. But Yakana and Brindle seem to think I can be a guardian."

Do you want to?

"Not the way you do."

Thorvel scoffed.

"I’m not like you. I wasn’t born here, I didn’t ask to come here, and I didn’t make a pact. But if Brindle or Yakana or even Emael asked me to protect this forest, I would. If I saw people destroying the forest, I would."

"Like during the Harvest?"

I swallowed. "If you want me to cull their ranks, slaughter them indiscriminately, no. The Harvest is legal here and I won’t commit to that."

Thorvel snarled.

"But… if there’s some type of disturbance… something that really threatens the forest… yeah. I’d protect it. Not because I had to or because I had some creed. But it’s like… if people come to this forest, they needa treat it with respect or they can fuck off or die."

He backed up, raising his head far into the sky and looking down upon me like a worm. I don’t believe you, but it wouldn’t matter if I did. You’re too weak to help us, and I see no value in letting you build strength for a decade while your presence attracts armies yearly.

I gritted my teeth bitterly.

But…

I looked up.

If Brindle’s guiding you, prove it. I’ll give you till the harvest to prove that your value exceeds your risk. If you succeed, I will give you access to the Bramble to collect your equipment. If you fail—I will kill you.

I frowned. "How can I prove that?"

Ask Brindle—I wouldn’t trust anything a human does. He turned to Halten screaming in the distance. You have two hours to save Halten. If he crosses this river, I’ll kill him. Now move.

The tightness in my muscles unraveled like a loose bundled cord, and I nearly collapsed. That’s it…? I thought. I’m actually free?

I looked up and Thorvel was snarling at me.

I nodded, zipped up my backpack, put it on and clipped it around my stomach, then rushed to the pond where Aiden was floating.

"Aiden!" I panicked and pulled him out, lying him out and putting my ear to his face. He was breathing.

Good…

I quickly dug a spot for his head to be halfway in the water without drowning and floated his body to it, praying that the water would fix his brain—if it was damaged.

Then, I turned to Halten, who was screeching and thrashing in the distance, kicking up a stormcloud of dust as he tried to move.

I turned to Kline. "I’m checking in with Yakana."

Kline nodded, and I dove into the water, braving the angry remnants that swarmed me, demanding that I break their shackles with my core.

Yakana!

There was no answer.

I gripped a rock underwater to stay put.

Yanaka…

As if he was a short rustling breeze, Yakana’s voice called out. You’ve already done what you can for Halten. Give him the elixir. The rest is up to him. Yakana’s voice drifted away with the tide.

Damn it… I surfaced and clambered on the ashy shore on the other side of the Diktyo as Kline crossed the river on an Ethereal Bridge, hopping right beside me and meowing.

I stood and feasted my eyes on a post-apocalyptic hellscape. The forest had become a charred wasteland after Thorvel burnt it down—yet it was strangely comforting, reminiscent of the countless times I came to controlled burn or wildfire sites to go morel hunting. I could still remember how happy I was every time I found a patch of the alien mushrooms without risking Lyme disease from tick bites. It invoked those emotions—

—but things were different this time.

The fire was fresh, and the wood crumbled under each of my footsteps as I moved toward Halten, making me feel like I was constantly shooting for a step and missing it.

Kline walked in front of me, leaving tiny paw prints in the ash below my feet. I followed him, keeping calm despite the freakish, howling screams from the dragon that saved me.

It wasn’t long before I reached Halten. He was covered in soot and brown blood, but blue and white sections lay exposed from the ashes, like a sunken vessel that would still be salvageable if recovered.

But that didn’t seem likely.

Halten sounded like a wounded Hollywood dinosaur, voice piercing and primal. He thrashed around the charcoal, kicking up a storm that I blocked with a clean domain, and then cleaned using Separate to separate the carbon from the trace minerals. When I used the spell, the black ash turned white like falling snow. It was like an opening scene from Silent Hill.

"Halten!" I yelled. "I brought you medicine!"

The dragon suddenly shifted its gaze to me, roaring and screeching as he crawled toward me with broken arms and a ripped torso. It was slow at first, but he quickly hit a stride—barrelling at me like a freight train.

"W-Wait!" I screamed. "I just need you to drink something!"

Halten sped up, making me turn and flee as he plowed through the forest, biting through charred trees and pitting them out in a cloud of dust. He was faster than expected, and I quickly found myself on Kline’s back as he warped between shadows, putting a few hundred meters between us as we reached the river.

The river was weak after the battles and water loss, moving hypnotically as Thorvel and the dragons watched from the other end of the river—preparing to kill Halten if he crossed. Behind me was Halten, crawling on broken limbs like a possessed demon.

"Halten!" I pleaded.

He answered with a primal screech that bounced around my skull, plowing through the forest. We had less than a minute to deal with the situation before he died, and there was no way that I could work something out in time.

I pulled out the Teelia elixir, but it felt worthless in my hands. Even if I nailed him right into the mouth and he swallowed and he blacked out instantly—the laws of momentum and inertia would carry him over the river where Thorvel would kill him.

Should I lead him in the other direction? No… I turned and saw Thorvel and the other wyverns. He would attack no matter what. At this point, using the elixir would be a waste. It was over.

Suddenly, I heard a cough and saw Aiden crawl out of the river like a dilapidated swamp monster, body turning black as ash stuck to his wet skin.

"Aiden!" I rushed over to him, and I knelt down. "Get in the water… Halten…"

I paused. What was I supposed to tell him? It was all for nothing, Aiden. Risking your life and making this elixir. Nothing. Halten’s dead. He’s lost his mind and is about to eat us, and even if we save him, one extra step and the other dragons will rip him to shreds.

"Get in the water," I repeated nervously.

Aiden groaned and himself up. "God damn my world’s fuzzy. I don’t think this water’s supposed to fix brain damage."

"Now!" I yelled.

"Chill!" Aiden said strangely. "I’ll talk to ’em."

"Have you seen him?"

I turned and saw Halten crashing through the forest, kicking up black dust as he moved. He was crawling and he was in the far distance, but he was moving fast.

"Hard not to. But… you got that elixir right?"

"Not gonna help. Even if it knocks him flat, he’ll fall into the river, and the dragons’ll kill ’em."

Aiden cupped his face like he had a hangover. "So… yeah. But… You’re trying, right?"

"Huh?"

"Trying. I mean… if you don’t try, you’re guaranteeing failure."

"No. if you’re facing certain failure, you shouldn’t risk your life and throw valuable resources at problems."

Aiden rubbed his eyes, and I wanted to deck him, knocking him out and sending him downstream to end his line of thoughts, but he was so calm and collected that I couldn’t.

"Yeah… I get that," he said, "but… look. Some people don’t have a price, and Halten’s… my Kline. So… I’m gonna try no matter what."

His words stabbed my heart.

"So I hate to ask, but… will you please try? I don’t know what I’d do without him!"

Aiden yelled because Halten’s advance was getting loud. He was less than a football field away, and we had to run, but my heart felt like a pincushion. If it were Kline, I’d say fuck you to the Teelia elixir and all my gear and even a fucking kidney. It was true: there are some people and companions that you can let go of, but there are others that you just can’t, even if it kills you.

"Okay!" I cracked the large Teelia elixir in my hand and then jumped onto Kline’s back in a reverse straddle. "I’ll throw—but then I’m hitting the river. If you die… that’s on you! But… I’ll mourn your death. Okay?"

He nodded and looked at Halten, who was now only five seconds away from us, barreling through the area, breaking down trees with snapping jaws as he walked on broken limbs. His eyes were bloodshot and primal, and his face was snapping. He got within twenty feet.

My world slowed naturally, and my arms weighed down with adrenaline. Everything felt like it was riding on this moment. I lifted the jar into a throwing position and cranked Moxle Dilation to the limits, nearly stopping time. It was a limit I hadn’t crossed, and even with Mental Shielding, it was the internal equivalent of a small pebble hitting your car’s windshield doing seventy, cracking it sharply despite being the size.

But it worked.

Halten’s mouth was opening slowly. I waited for what felt like ten seconds for his lips to parse again, watching wood fragments and smoke billowing everywhere, and waited.

Then I saw the opening.

With a powerful thrust, I threw the jar as hard as I could—blue liquid splashing out in spirals as if a bullet hitting a full soda in ultra slow motion—sending it crashing into Halten’s mouth.

I tapped Kline twice to get him to move, then sped up my world with Mental Shielding to avoid brain damage.

Kline jumped onto a bridge of raw mana over the river and the liquid a second apart—and everything nearly collapsed.

A shockwave exploded from the area when the liquid hit Halten’s tongue, and it released a blast of soul force that sent us flying. Kline’s ethereal body and bridge both disappeared as if the soul force blew them away like dust in a breeze, and we started falling toward the pond. I slowed time again, grabbing my little warrior mid-air and throwing him the extra four feet to shore. Then I hit the shallow water head first with a sickening crash—and blacked out.

2,

Halten’s soul awakened within his body. It was weak, but it was still there, hanging on for dear life as vengeful souls continued to eat him on all sides. It made him want to give up.

He had been fighting for a week, subconsciously praying that Emael or Thorvel would drag him out of the river even though he didn’t deserve it. But he lost and suffered countless bites and damage that left him reeling. He was tired—

—and the remnants were winning.

But then something… strange happened. A cooling sensation flooded his mental sphere, obliterating thousands of souls attacking him, turning them all to dust.

All function returned to Halten’s body—and all the pain with it. His wings didn’t work. His ribs and limbs were broken and missing sections that removed his ability to work.

He was mangled and screaming out in pain.

Worse, his mind wasn’t straight. He was furious, angry—vengeful. It was impossible not to be. The remnants had damaged that part of his soul, leaving it open like an undammed river.

In that state of fevered delirium, Halten was taken back to the Black Harvest a century ago—the one that landed him in chains.

It was sunny with a cool breeze that day, and he was protecting Thorvel’s child, Asai. It was a cruel Harvest that year. Every century, the second and third domains would find a full force of third evolutions willing to sacrifice soul force to cross domains and challenge the Bramble, and it was one of those years.

Only it was worse.

It was coordinated, the biggest they had ever seen. Over a hundred third-evolution elites plowed through the forest—hellbent on conquering it. They did a damn good job, slaughtering most of the Migrators before setting up camps a few miles past the Bramble to stay there for the year.

With two days left in the Harvest, Thorvel flew to Serenflora to obtain the aid of the Drokai—the Third Ring’s fighting force—to crush them. It was time for serious war.

The elite squad of third evolution Harvesters, led by a human woman, saw Thorvel leave—and struck.