Page 41

Aldercrown

Wind rustled the leaves of oak trees as Adelina rode through the forest near the eastern coast of Toichrist. Having left the Salken Mountains a week ago, she was on her way to finding Uldan Island.

According to her map, it was off the northeast coast, but it would be another week of travel before she reached the docks.

The floral scent of windflowers mixed with the earthy smell of decomposing leaves and rotting wood. Branches scraped at her cloak as she wandered along the path’s edge, plucking berries from between thorns. Her horse snorted behind her.

A river wound through the forest, and up ahead, Adelina spotted a frothy cascade of water filling into a plunge pool.

Rocky outcroppings and lush grass lined the base of the waterfall.

As she drew nearer, the vibrant green hue of lichen and moss reflected brightly in the water droplets splashed onto its blue-green surface.

At the top of the waterfall, trees roots gripped the ledges.

She led her horse to the water’s edge, where it bent to drink. Once she’d filled her flask, she guided her horse by the reins along the trodden path dotted with leaves and acorns.

On the outskirts of the forest facing out to sea, she sat against a tree trunk and munched on her berries and leftover rabbit meat from the night before.

From her position, she kept a clear line of sight to the ocean.

On the wind, the taste of salt carried. She swigged a gulp of water to rid the sharp flavour from her palette.

As the sun dipped closer to the horizon, the temperature of the wind whipping across the ocean and through the trees dropped.

Tugging her cloak around her, she rose, then meandered to her horse, who grazed on a patch of grass. It wouldn’t be long before the forest came to life with the orange glow of fireflies and the distant hoot of owls.

As she began her usual routine of setting up camp, a low rumble rippled through the forest, rustling branches and trees. Nesting birds shot from the canopy, darting into the sky.

Midway through gathering sticks for a fire, she halted. She decided she must’ve been hearing things, for all that surrounded her was the song of birds.

Once she stacked the branches and lit the fire, she set the snares around the campsite. Another rumble. She jolted, facing the direction of the sound. Under the dim light of the flames and the distant fireflies, she could’ve sworn a tree root moved .

Abandoning her task, she wandered to the large oak tree ahead of her. Its roots twisted in and out of the soil, and its trunk towered above her.

“Just a tree,” she whispered to herself as she spun around.

The soil beneath her feet cracked and vibrated.

Jumping, she swivelled, fixing her gaze on the roots. They were moving—ripping through the ground, the trunk rising high above her.

Rubbing her eyes, she stared, dumbfounded, at the tree who literally grew legs in front of her.

“What in the realm…” she said on an intake of breath.

Amber eyes opened three quarters of the way up the trunk, sending a flash of fear through her core. She stumbled backwards.

The tree is alive...the tree is alive...

The tree thing bent, its expanse of green leaves shaking around what she presumed to be its head. “Who are you?” His deep voice boomed, vibrating her core.

She fell onto her buttocks, and her horse bucked behind her, tugging on its tied reins. All words escaped her. What could she say to a talking tree? She might know magic, but she’d been oblivious to the living forest. Did that mean others were too?

She put her questions aside, rose to her feet and stood her ground. Holding her palms in front of her to show she meant no harm, she cleared her throat. “Adelina Orlova.”

“And what brings you to Aldercrown, Adelina Orlova?” The tree straightened its trunk spine, then used two lower branches, which acted as arms, to ruffle the full canopy of leaves atop its head. Loose twigs and fronds fell to the floor—one landed on her scalp.

“Aldercrown?” She arched a brow, unable to keep her gaze from wandering across the tree thing’s body. A bird nested in a hole halfway along the trunk, seemingly undisturbed by its moving, talking habitat.

“The home of Treefolk.” He glanced at the other trees. “Not all are alive, but we few who are...Aldercrown is ours.”

“Are you magical?” Although a part of her knew she should be concerned about this new, unfamiliar creature in her presence, she couldn’t ignore the lulling sensation wrapping around her like a fuzzy blanket.

“We are but one being of magic.” His voice reverberated, rippling the nearby trees and shrubberies. “Are you not one yourself?”

“Well, yes,” she said, almost at a loss for words. “I’ve not seen your kind before. Come to think of it, I’ve never even heard of you.”

Thick bark above his amber eyes moved, imitating the action of knitting brows. “And for good reason. Only those who possess light magic can enter the forest of Aldercrown. An ancient charm protects the Treefolk clans from dark sorcerers.”

The hairs on her neck stood on end as her mind wandered to Filip, his father, and whoever the nether wielders were before them.

“Does this have anything to do with the Great War of the Wielders?” she said.

“It has everything to do with it.” The Treefolk lowered his hand to the ground, held his palm open, and nodded. “Hop on. I shall show you Aldercrown as I tell you our story. ”

“Y-you trust me?” She hesitated—her gaze locked on his thick, trunk-like fingers.

“You are an astral wielder, no? A form of light magic. The people of the forest trust you even if they do not know you,” he said.

She swallowed, stepping onto the uneven, barky surface of his palm. In one fell swoop, he lifted her several feet into the air. Her stomach flipped.

With his free hand, he plucked her luggage from the horse’s saddle.

As his footsteps thundered through the forest, drowning out the flow of water and nearby critters, he tilted his chin to look at her.

“During the time of the Great War of the Wielders, the astral sorcerers were all but wiped out. Many lived in fear.”

“They put their magic in talismans for safe keeping,” she said, recalling the passage about it in her book.

“Yes, but before they did, they protected Aldercrown, so the Treefolk could not be used as a pawn by those who hungered for power,” he said.

“Nether wielders.” Coldness swept over her body as she imagined an army of nether wielders plundering the forest. Such thoughts raised an important question. “Forgive my ignorance, but how did they use you? You are large, mighty creatures.”

The Treefolk chuckled. “There was a time when many nether wielders joined forces—such a significant amount of power is more than enough to overcome clans of the forest. And with the help of the astral wielders they’d enslaved—”

“They were at their strongest.” The realisation hit Adelina like a sledgehammer. She wondered if this was part of Filip’s plan to control the three countries .

“The charm stops us from being exposed to such otherworldly magic. Dark magic.” The Treefolk shuddered, sending loose leaves spiralling to the ground around them. “We were almost brought to extinction. The last few decades under concealment have given us time to thrive once again.”

She smiled, his deep words replacing the chill in her bones with a comforting warmth. “You have a beautiful home.”

“It is. Yet we live in fear of what may come. Filip is a powerful man and if he finds you…” The Treefolk cast her a sideways glance.

“But there is only one of him. Even if he captured me, the two of us wouldn’t be strong enough to repeat what happened in the War.” She frowned.

“One can never be too sure.” The Treefolk carried her to a clearing. A jagged cliff overlooked a dramatic waterfall plummeting into the ocean beyond. “After all, he is a demon.”

“Wait.” She spun to face him, peeling her gaze from the natural view.

A sudden cold sensation swept through her core, and her skin tingled with discomfort.

Time slowed, tick ticking, until it halted altogether.

That singular word echoed in her head, causing a throbbing in her temple.

She grinded her teeth as she fought to pull herself together.

If this was true, she’d need all the information she could get.

“Did you say demon? I read Antanov Tarasov was a shapeshifter—a demon. He’s Filip’s father, isn’t he? ”

“Yes.” The Treefolk blinked, and his bulky eyes remained closed for a few seconds before they opened.

“If Filip has you in his possession, he will not need a dozen other nether wielders. All it takes is for him to tread into the darkness, sink into the underworld, and bring his demons back with him.”

“I won’t let him hurt you,” she said at once, overcome by a strong urge to protect this harmless Treefolk. “What is your name?”

He laughed. “We do not have names in Aldercrown, little one. But…you may call me Ironpine.”

She smiled. “Ironpine. It suits you. How did you choose it?”

“It is the name of my clan.” He gestured to the wandering trees on the other side of the waterfall. “They are my family.”

“I’ll do everything I can to protect you from Filip,” she promised. “I’m headed to Uldan to retrieve the Alatyr— father to all stones . This will be fitted into the pommel of the Sword of Light.”

Ironpine raised his crooked eyebrow. “It sounds most enchanting. I shall take you to the coast. There is a boat, and you can continue your search for this...Alatyr.”

“Thank you.” At ease, she lowered herself into a seated position in his hand as he continued the journey around the body of water, and through his home in Aldercrown.

The sun began to set, and her eyelids were heavy. She slumped against the ridges of his hand, falling closer to sleep.

She jolted.

“What is it, little one?” he said as softly as a giant tree could.

“What about my horse?” She widened her eyes .