Chương 125: Chapter 20: The Ghost in the Grove - Part IV

For some time after Vael finishes speaking, I remain where I am beneath the trees, unable to decide whether I should feel relieved that I finally understand what he is or unsettled by how little of the answer I truly understand.

The Grove has become quiet around us, although it is no longer the ordinary quiet I have known since planting the Silverwood, because now that I am aware of Vael's presence, every movement of the leaves and every faint shift of mana through the roots seems to carry the possibility that he is listening.

I can still sense him through my connection with the trees, faint but distinct now that I know where to look, existing alongside the Grove rather than within it in the same way that I do when I reach out with my senses. He is not the Silverwood itself, nor is he simply another living presence standing somewhere among the trees, and the difference between those things is difficult to explain even within my own mind, because whatever Vael has become appears to exist only through the life that surrounds him.

Garrick is the first to disturb the silence, although the way he looks around the clearing makes it obvious that he is still trying to become accustomed to the fact that the person we have been speaking with cannot actually be seen.

"So, you are saying that he has been here all this time?"

"Not all this time in the way you mean," I say, although even as I answer, I realize that I am repeating Vael's explanation rather than offering one of my own.

"He was there, but he wasn't aware enough to speak to me. When I planted the Silverwood, something of him awakened with it."

"And when the Heartwoods appeared, he became stronger," Lorcan adds, looking toward the trees surrounding us. Vael's presence stirs faintly through the Grove before his voice answers.

"Stronger is perhaps too generous a word for what I was at the time. I became more aware, although awareness is of little use when one cannot act upon it." The answer draws my attention back toward the Silverwood.

"You said you helped the Heartwoods."

"I did."

"How?" For a few moments, I receive no answer, and although I cannot see him, I have the distinct impression that Vael is considering how much of the truth he wishes to tell me. The feeling is irritatingly familiar.

"Vael."

"I am thinking."

"You used to say that when you were trying to avoid answering me."

"And did it ever work?" I glance toward Garrick, who looks considerably more amused than he has any right to be.

"Unfortunately," I say. The faint laughter that follows moves through the Grove, and although it still feels strange to hear it after all these years, the sound no longer strikes me with the same shock it did when I first heard it. I can feel the grief beneath the relief and know that neither will disappear simply because I have found some part of the man, I believed lost, but there is something comforting about discovering that death has apparently failed to make Vael any less irritating.

"You were telling me about the Heartwoods," I remind him. The laughter fades.

"When they awakened, they were young and unprepared for what they had become connected to. The Silverwood was already stronger than they were, but the Grove itself had not yet found the balance it possesses now. I had little strength of my own, yet what remained of me could still move through the mana contained within the Silverwood." Understanding begins to form.

"You gave some of yourself to them."

"I gave them mana."

"It came from you."

"Yes." I look around at the Heartwoods, remembering their earliest days when I had worried whether they would survive long enough to truly become part of the Grove. At the time, I believed the Silverwood had simply drawn them into its protection, and perhaps that had been true, but now I understand that something else had been quietly helping them as well.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I could not."

"You could have tried."

"I did." The answer makes me still. For the first time since our conversation began, I have no immediate response.

"When?" I ask.

"When you first began hearing things you believed belonged to the Grove." I frown. Memories begin returning to me, scattered moments from the past months when I had sensed something unusual through the Silverwood but dismissed it because I had not known enough to understand what was normal.

There had been faint impressions, moments when the Grove seemed to carry something resembling a thought that did not entirely feel like my own, but I had assumed that was simply the nature of connecting with something larger than myself.

"You were there."

"I was."

"And I ignored you."

"You were considerably more occupied with keeping everyone alive." The answer comes without accusation, yet the guilt still rises within me before I can stop it.

"You could have tried harder."

"Kaelen." Something in Vael's voice changes.

"I was barely awake." The words settle heavily enough that I immediately regret the accusation. I look down at the ground.

"I know."

"I do not think you do." I wait.

"When the Silverwood was only a sapling, I could give it something of myself because I still possessed a body, still possessed the mana I had cultivated throughout my life. I gave it a part of myself. What remained after my death was not the same thing. I was never meant to exist in this way, and whatever part of me remained within the tree could have faded completely if the Silverwood had not survived." My eyes return to the pale trunk in the distance.

"It was only when you planted the saplings did was I able to sense life again. When you came to the tree, I knew you. Not immediately. Memory returned slowly, and even when I understood who you were, I could not reach you. I could feel your presence through the Grove and understand fragments of what happened around you, but that was all." If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

"Why did you give your strength to the Heartwoods?" I ask quietly. There is another pause.

"Because they needed it." I almost laugh at the simplicity of the answer.

"You nearly faded completely just so that Heartwood trees could grow."

"They were not simply some trees. Any druid in my place, would have been glad to lay down his own life, if it meant they get a chance to help new Heartwood trees gow."

"You had never treated Heartwood trees with such reverence before."

"Perhaps, only when I thought they were a drying sacred tree species. But if not for the vitality of the Heartwood trees, my essence would not become this aware, not for a long time at least." I shake my head. The old frustration feels strangely comforting now.

"You haven't changed," I tell him. The Grove remains silent for a moment before he answers.

"That is not entirely true." The words bring me back to the present. Of course he has changed.

"What can you do now?" Elyrion asks, and the question returns the conversation to something more practical before my thoughts can wander too far into the past. Vael seems to consider him for a moment before answering.

"More than I could yesterday."

"That still doesn't tell us much."

"No," Vael says, and I can hear the faint amusement returning.

"It does not." I exhale slowly before deciding that if I want answers, I am going to have to ask the questions more carefully.

"Can you leave the Grove?"

"No." The answer comes immediately. I look toward the Silverwood.

"Not at all?"

"Not as I am now." I notice Garrick glancing toward me, clearly recognizing the distinction as well.

"Can you appear somewhere else within the Grove?" I ask.

"For brief periods, yes, although I cannot yet maintain a proper form."

"The figure we saw."

"That was the best I could manage." The answer makes me remember the vague shape between the trees, little more than light gathering into something that resembled a person.

"Can you touch anything?" I ask.

"No," Vael replies.

"Can you fight?" The silence that follows tells me enough before Vael finally answers.

"No," he says. I nod slowly. It is disappointing, although I do not allow the feeling to remain for long. Whatever I hoped for when I first heard his voice, I could not reasonably expect him to return from death and immediately become what he once was. Even the fact that he exists at all is something I still cannot fully comprehend.

"What can you do, then?" Garrick asks.

"Listen," Vael replies. Garrick waits. The Grove remains quiet.

"And?"

"Watch." Garrick turns toward me.

"You warned me about this."

"Yes, I did."

"I didn't believe you."

"Yes, you should have." Lorcan covers his mouth, although I can see him trying not to laugh. Vael's amusement brushes faintly against my senses before his voice continues.

"I can sense what happens within the Grove, and now that its roots have spread farther beneath the city, I can sense certain disturbances beyond the garden as well. The Silverwood and Heartwoods carry awareness through their roots, and through them, I can perceive things that may otherwise remain hidden."

"What things?" I ask.

"Changes in mana. Presences that move through places where ordinary senses would fail to notice them. Some spirits." The last word draws my full attention.

"Spirits like you?"

"Not necessarily." Something in his tone makes me understand that the distinction matters.

"Are there others?"

"There are always others." The answer leaves me silent for a moment. I have spent enough time learning about the world beyond the Elarion Circle to understand that there are countless things I still do not know, and the past months have only reinforced that knowledge. The Grove, the dungeons and everything I have encountered since leaving the ruins of my old life have made it increasingly clear that the world is larger and stranger than I ever believed when I lived among the druids.

"Could something like that enter the Grove?" Lorcan asks.

"It could." My attention sharpens.

"Would you know?"

"I would know if I could sense it."

"That isn't reassuring."

"It was not intended to be. It was meant to be truthful." I close my eyes for a moment. When I open them, I look toward the trees.

"Can you protect the Grove?" This time, Vael takes longer to answer.

"Now, that is a question worth asking. Yes, I can protect it. Only from certain things though."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that not every danger can be solved by striking it with a sword, Kaelen." Garrick folds his arms.

"He does know that, despite appearances."

"I am standing right here."

"Exactly." Vael's laughter returns, and although I should probably be irritated, I find myself smiling instead because the others have already begun speaking to him as though he belongs here. Perhaps that is what surprises me most.

Only an hour ago, the possibility of a ghost within the Grove had sounded like something the children imagined, and now Garrick is arguing with a dead druid he has never met while Lorcan watches the surrounding trees as though he has discovered a subject of magical study he intends to investigate for the rest of his life. Yet beneath the amusement, I understand what Vael means. The Grove has grown. The Silverwood and Heartwoods have become stronger. Its roots have begun spreading beneath Fallowspire.

As the Grove changes, I cannot expect every danger it faces to come from people who can simply be seen walking through the gates.

"You can guide me," I say. The laughter fades.

"Yes, I can."

"You can warn us if you sense something wrong."

"If I understand it well enough."

"That isn't quite the answer I wanted."

"I have always found the truth more useful than reassurance." I let out a quiet breath. There it is. Another thing I had forgotten. Vael had never promised certainty when none existed. He had taught me to understand what I could, prepare for what I could not and accept that some answers only appeared when the right questions were asked. For several moments, I stand quietly beneath the trees while the others allow the conversation to settle.

I can sense their curiosity and know that there are still countless things we could ask, but I also understand that Vael himself is not strong enough to explain everything in a single morning. His presence within the Grove has become clearer after the ritual, yet even now I can feel the faintness beneath it, as though maintaining this conversation requires more from him than he wishes us to realize.

"You should rest," I say. The silence that follows tells me that I am right.

"An unusual suggestion from you," Vael finally replies. I frown slightly.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you have never been particularly skilled at resting or letting others rest for that matter." Garrick gives a quiet sound of agreement. I turn toward him.

"Not you too."

"I've known you long enough."

"I rest."

"Occasionally." Lorcan joins him.

"When unconscious."

"I regret bringing either of you here." The amusement moving through the Grove becomes warmer, and for a moment, the tension that has followed me since first hearing the laughter disappears completely. I cannot remember the last time I stood among people and felt something so close to the ordinary comfort of the life I once knew, and perhaps I should feel guilty about that because nothing about this situation is ordinary. But I don't. I simply allow myself to remain there.

Eventually, Elyrion looks toward the Silverwood before turning his attention back toward me.

"Whatever Vael is now, his presence is connected to the Grove. We should consider what that means for all of us." I nod.

"He is not a weapon." The words leave me immediately. Garrick looks at me. Lorcan's expression changes slightly. Even the Grove itself seems to grow quieter.

"I don't care how useful his presence might become," I continue, looking toward the Silverwood.

"He is not something we can order into protecting us whenever it becomes convenient." For several moments, Vael says nothing. Then I feel something through the connection between us, faint enough that I cannot describe it properly. Approval.

"You learned something after all," he says. I smile despite myself.

"Don't make me regret it."

"That would be impossible."

"You're doing an excellent job already." The others begin moving slowly toward the path leading back through the Grove, perhaps understanding that the conversation has reached the point where nothing more needs to be decided immediately. Garrick walks first, with Lorcan following beside him while Elyrion remains closer to me, although before leaving the clearing, I look back toward the Silverwood. The tree stands exactly where it always has.

Its pale trunk rises through the other trees; its branches spread through the canopy and its roots run beneath the earth toward places I can no longer see. Yet nothing about it feels the same. For years, I carried the Silverwood as the final living connection to the Elarion Circle, believing that the sapling represented everything that remained of the people and home I had lost. I had been wrong. Something else remained. I walk toward the others, then stop after only a few steps as a thought occurs to me.

"Vael."

"Yes?" I turn back toward the trees.

"Welcome back." For several moments, the Grove remains quiet, and I wonder whether he has heard me before his voice finally reaches me again, carrying none of its usual teasing.

"Thank you, Kaelen." I stand there for another moment, listening to the leaves moving above me, before turning away and following the others through the Grove. The morning has changed nothing about the world beyond these walls, and somewhere outside the garden, Fallowspire continues toward the arrival of a king while dangers I do not yet understand remain scattered across a world far larger than this small refuge.

Yet as I walk beneath the branches of the Grove, I no longer feel that I am carrying everything from the Elarion Circle alone. Somewhere among the roots and leaves behind me, a familiar presence remains awake. And for the first time in years, when I think of the home I lost, the memory does not feel quite as silent.