Chương 129: CHAPTER 22: The Distant Roots- Part I

I leave the Grove early the following morning, although the decision to visit the second cluster of Heartwoods has been sitting in my mind since Vael first suggested it the previous day.

Fallowspire is only beginning to wake as I make my way through the streets, and the city carries that familiar sense of quiet movement that always comes before the markets properly open, with shopkeepers lifting shutters and arranging their goods while merchants begin preparing their stalls and the first groups of adventurers make their way toward the Guild.

Ordinarily, I might have paid more attention to the people around me, but this morning, much of my awareness remains beneath my feet, following the distant sensation of the Grove's roots as they spread through the earth below the city. The difference is subtle, yet after everything Vael explained yesterday, I find myself looking at that sensation differently.

Until now, I had simply accepted the roots as another part of the Grove's growth, something I could feel after my communion without needing to understand where they travelled or what they were doing beneath Fallowspire, but Vael had made it painfully clear that sensing something and understanding it were not the same thing.

The connection remains strongest beneath the Grove itself, where the Silverwood stands at the center of the great network formed by its roots and those of the Heartwoods surrounding it, but one path extends farther than the rest, travelling beneath streets and buildings until it reaches the distant cluster that had emerged after the ritual.

I cannot see the young Heartwoods yet, but the closer I move toward them, the clearer their presence becomes, and I find myself slowing slightly as the familiar sensation begins drawing me through a part of the city, I have only visited a handful of times. The streets eventually become familiar enough that I recognize where I am, particularly when the flow of adventurers around me increases and I begin seeing the buildings surrounding the Adventurer's Guild in the distance.

Somewhere nearby, beyond the crowded streets and the places where merchants and travelers pass each other without paying much attention, the second cluster waits, and I allow the connection beneath my feet to guide me away from the main road until the noise of the city begins fading behind me.

"You seem to be paying more attention today," Vael remarks as I turn into a narrower street. I glance around instinctively before remembering that there is no one beside me to notice whom I am speaking with.

"You told me to start paying attention."

"I did."

"Then don't sound surprised when I listen." The faint amusement that reaches me through the Grove feels familiar enough that I cannot stop the beginning of a smile. It is strange how quickly our conversations have begun finding the rhythm they once had, despite the years that separate the present from the days when I followed Vael through the forests of Elarion and complained about lessons I was too impatient to appreciate.

He is no longer walking beside me now, and his voice reaches me only through the connection between us and the Grove, yet there are moments like this when the difference feels almost insignificant. I follow the roots farther. The connection eventually leads me away from the narrow street and toward a neglected stretch of land surrounded by broken walls and aging buildings.

At first glance, there is nothing remarkable about the place, and if I had not been following the Grove's presence, I might have walked past without giving it more than a passing look. Wild grass has claimed much of the ground, weeds growing freely between broken stones while the remains of a low wall mark what was once clearly intended to be a garden or enclosed plot, although whatever purpose it had served seems to have been forgotten long ago. Then the connection deepens.

I stop near the broken entrance, and for a moment, I simply stand there while the presence of the young Heartwoods reaches toward me with a clarity I have not felt from them before. From a distance, they had always seemed faint, their mana little more than a distant awareness resting at the edge of my communion, but now that I am standing so close to them, I can feel how distinct they truly are.

They are young and still developing, their presence nowhere near as deep or powerful as that of the Heartwoods within the original Grove, yet there is nothing unfamiliar about them. The moment my awareness touches theirs, the connection forms with a natural ease that leaves me standing quietly at the entrance. It does not feel like discovering something new. It feels like finding something that had always belonged to me. I step through the broken wall and enter the abandoned plot.

The cluster rises near its center, and although the trees are still young, I immediately recognize them as Heartwoods. Their trunks remain slender compared to the older trees surrounding the Silverwood, but their bark already carries the familiar texture I remember from the first Heartwoods that grew beside it, while their branches stretch outward with leaves gathering densely enough that the morning light falls through them in scattered patches.

They have not yet grown tall enough to dominate the surrounding buildings, and their branches do not form anything close to the great canopy of the original Grove, but together they have begun creating a small space of their own within the abandoned land. For several moments, I do nothing except look at them. The place reminds me of the garden where I planted the Silverwood, not because the two locations are identical but because they share the same strange sense of being forgotten by the city around them.

Fallowspire continues beyond these walls, busy and alive, yet within this neglected plot, the young Heartwoods have begun creating their own quiet corner of the city, and the familiar feeling that moves through my communion makes me wonder how many people have passed this place without realizing what has begun growing beneath their feet. I walk toward the nearest tree and allow my awareness to settle more deeply into the connection between us.

The response is immediate, although it comes without words or anything I could easily describe as thought. The young Heartwood simply recognizes me, and as my mana touches its presence, I feel the others responding as well, their awareness gradually turning toward me until the entire cluster becomes clearer through my communion. They know me. The realization comes slowly, and when I consider it more carefully, I realize that perhaps I should not be surprised.

Their roots have grown alongside those travelling from the original Grove, and mana has moved between the two places since the ritual that awakened them. They have never seen me, yet some part of the greater connection has carried my presence to them, just as their own presence has been reaching me since they first emerged from the earth. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. I rest my palm against the nearest trunk.

The bark is smooth and warm beneath my hand, and the moment I allow my mana to flow through the connection, the awareness surrounding me deepens until the distance between this place and the original Grove seems to disappear. My senses move beneath the earth. The young Heartwood's roots spread below me, weaving through the soil before reaching deeper toward something far larger, and when I follow them, I find the connection Vael wanted me to see for myself.

Roots from the original Grove have travelled beneath Fallowspire, passing beneath streets and buildings until they eventually reached this abandoned plot, where the dormant Heartwood seeds lay hidden within the earth. The ritual had flooded the growing network with mana, awakening those seeds and allowing the young trees to germinate, but the connection had not ended there.

As the new Heartwoods began growing, their roots had encountered the roots already reaching toward them, and rather than remaining separate, the two systems had gradually intertwined until the distinction between where one ended and the other began became almost impossible to feel. For a brief moment, I simply remain within that sensation, following it farther than I ever have before. I slowly withdraw my awareness and open my eyes.

"They really are connected," I say quietly. Vael's presence remains close through the communion.

"Yes." I turn my attention toward the trees surrounding me.

"You knew."

"I understood the possibility."

"That's not the same thing."

"No." I study the young Heartwoods again while considering what I felt beneath the earth, because yesterday I might have accepted Vael's explanation and considered the matter settled. The roots were connected. The Heartwoods belonged to the Grove. It would have been enough for me to know that much. Now, however, I find myself wondering what those words actually mean.

"This isn't another Grove," I say after a while, allowing my gaze to travel between the young trees.

"They're growing in a different part of the city, but they aren't independent from the Silverwood and the Heartwoods back home."

"No, they are not." I allow my hand to remain against the trunk, "The roots connect them."

"They do."

"And mana moves between them."

"Yes." I wait, already recognizing the silence that follows. Vael is waiting for me to continue. I sigh quietly.

"You could just explain the rest."

"I could."

"But you won't."

"No." A faint trace of laughter moves through the Grove, and despite myself, I smile as I close my eyes again, allowing my awareness to sink beneath the earth. This time, I do not simply follow the connection because I know where it will lead. I pay attention to it. The roots of the young Heartwoods feel different from the older network beneath the original Grove, not because they are disconnected but because they are still growing into their place within it.

Their mana remains young and somewhat unsteady, occasionally gathering in small pulses before settling into the larger current flowing through the roots, and the more carefully I listen, the more I begin to understand why Vael insisted that I come here. The connection between the two places is not merely a path through which I can sense one cluster from another. It is alive. Mana moves through it.

The roots carry that mana beneath Fallowspire, allowing the trees in one place to influence those in another, and when I consider the original Grove, I realize that I have been thinking about its boundaries far too simply. I have always considered the walls around the garden to be the edge of the Grove because that is where its trees stand, but the roots beneath the city do not recognize those walls.

They have continued growing beyond them, reaching through the earth until they found something capable of becoming part of the same network.

"The Grove isn't limited to the garden anymore," I say. Vael remains silent for a moment before answering.

"No." The simplicity of the response makes me smile slightly.

"I should have understood that sooner."

"You understood it, but only instinctively."

"But not properly."

"Yes." I open my eyes and look around the young cluster again. The trees respond faintly through the communion, their awareness brushing against mine as naturally as the Heartwoods within the original Grove do, and I find myself moving slowly between them while allowing my fingers to brush against their trunks. Each one feels slightly different, their mana carrying its own small distinctions despite the shared nature of their connection, and I cannot help comparing them to the original Heartwoods.

"They're still learning how to grow," I say.

"That is one way to describe it." I glance toward the trees.

"You disagree?"

"I think you are finally beginning to notice that growth is more complicated than becoming larger." The words make me pause. I look at the young Heartwoods again. Until now, I had seen their smaller size as the obvious difference between them and the older trees. They were young because they had existed for less time. They would grow larger as time passed. But that explanation suddenly feels incomplete. Their mana is different. Their roots are different. Their connection to the larger Grove is still developing.

"They aren't simply smaller versions of the older Heartwoods."

"No."

"They're still becoming part of what the Grove is." Vael remains quiet for several moments, and when his answer finally reaches me, there is unmistakable approval beneath it, "That is closer." I cannot stop myself from smiling, "That was definitely praise."

"Do not become unbearable."

"You taught me."

"I refuse responsibility." The familiar exchange settles something within me, and as I continue walking through the young cluster, I find myself thinking about the lessons Vael had given me yesterday. He had not returned to offer me every answer. If anything, he appears determined to make me work harder for them than ever before, but perhaps that is what I had truly needed.

The Grove has grown too quickly for me to continue relying upon instinct alone, and standing here among these young Heartwoods makes that truth more obvious than it had beneath the Silverwood. I eventually return to the center of the cluster and crouch beside one of the younger trees, placing my hand against the soil near its roots. The earth feels ordinary beneath my fingers, cool and slightly damp from the morning, yet the moment I allow my communion to deepen, the ground becomes something entirely different.

I can sense life beneath the surface, roots moving slowly through the soil while mana travels between them, and for the first time, I make myself follow those movements carefully instead of allowing them to remain an indistinct part of the greater sensation surrounding me. That is when I notice something.

At first, I assume it is simply another variation within the roots, perhaps an area where the network has grown more densely or where mana has gathered beneath the cluster, but the more carefully I focus upon it, the less certain I become. The sensation does not resemble the Silverwood or the Heartwoods, nor does it feel like the ordinary life growing around them.

It is deeper within the earth, faint enough that I might have missed it if I had approached the Grove as I once did, and although I cannot understand what I am sensing, I know that it is there. I remain crouched beside the tree, my fingers resting against the soil as I try to follow the unfamiliar presence without disturbing the connection around it.

"Vael," I say quietly, "can you feel something beneath them?" For several moments, he does not answer, and the silence that follows feels different from the ones he usually leaves when he wants me to think through a question. This time, I can sense his attention turning toward the same place beneath the earth, and although he gives me no immediate explanation, the absence of his usual response tells me enough to know that whatever I have noticed is not something I imagined.

I keep my hand against the ground and wait.