Ruin: Hierophant Candidates, part Seven

"You understand I have no interest in jellied shots," said Elendor, watching him from across the campfire. "I was... misled... to take up the worship of the sacred dragon Jensen, and I will not be tempted by the pleasures of the flesh again."

Ruin glanced down into the flames for a long moment. "Perhaps you think I wish to sleep with the druids who might become Hierophant, and judge them on that basis." He looked up and met her eyes. "No." He paused, drew breath, released it. Then he drew breath again and said, "I want the druids restored. They -- you -- are a vital part of Duendewood, and we are weaker without you."

Elendor studied him for a long moment, then settled back. "It is good that you know that."

Ruin kept his expression still and resisted the urge to shake his head. Elendor might prove to be the best leader for the druids, but the fact remained that he simply didn't like her. For a bastion of natural wisdom, she was abrasive, opinionated, and very set in her way of thinking. 

"I could do the job, of course," she said. "The others would follow my lead. But I have responsibilities here." She hesitated visibly, then added: "And after going astray in the worship of Jensen, I am not wholly sure I trust myself to take charge of any more than I have now."

Ruin nodded. "What of Zoriel?" 

"Young," said Elendor, "and perhaps a touch too sure of himself. Still, he was first among Saldhael's apprentices, and he did try to hold us together after the Hierophant died. He failed, but he did try. We could assuredly do worse than Zoriel, and with the position formally conferred he would have a much easier time of trying to lead us."

"Would you support him?" 

"If you chose him? Yes. Absolutely. I will support whomever you decide on, though why the Hierophant left that decision to you..."

Ruin shrugged. He was more than a little sympathetic to that reaction. "The old man had some peculiar ideas about balance and responsibility," he told her. "I don't understand it either, but I'm trying to do right by him. What of Alnira, then?"

"I don't know. I certainly question some of her decisions," Elendor said, giving Ruin a pointed look, "but she had done her best to guide and protect the less experienced of us. She is much like Zoriel in some ways; she too is young, and she too was the foremost apprentice of a respected druid. Does she desire the position?"

"No," Ruin admitted. "She feels her responsibilities here, and to the Council of Nine. She would do the job if it fell to her, but but she doesn't feel that she's ready for it."

"Wise girl," said Elendor. "And you have no interest in becoming Hierophant yourself, it seems."

Ruin shook his head immediately. "My connection to the world and its environments is very different from yours. I suppose that to some extent leadership is leadership, but I don't see how I could provide that without a fundamental understanding of the nature and needs of the druids."

"Well then," said Elendor, "you certainly have your work cut out for you. Have you any other questions for me?"

"No, but I'll come and find you if I do." Ruin rose, bowed, and turned away. Behind him, Elendor went back to mixing ingredients for poultices; it seemed she was expecting to have to treat more wounds before long.

Ruin: Hierophant Candidates, Part Six

Zoriel burst into the sacred grove, close behind his armored bear Spike, who howled loudly enough to shake the tainted trees around them. For all that he distrusted the man, he was counting on Ruin to do his part; the situation was too desperate for the druid to indulge his bitterness and mistrust. But if he betrays me like he betrayed my teacher, I will kill him.

There were four robed figures gathered around the massive kapok tree in the center of the grove, and they all bore the sigils of Apollyon. None of them paid the least attention to the new arrivals, but the half-dozen barbed devils standing guard around them turned and shrieked a warning. 

Spike reached the first of the barbed devils and tore into it. Zoriel had done everything he could think of to make the bear stronger, so it was satisfying to see Spike make use of those extra gifts. Still, he couldn't afford to get distracted...

Lifting a hand, Zoriel called for a storm. 

The devils were spreading out,  moving to surround Spike and envelop him, when the wolves charged out of the brush where Zoriel had summoned them. They were no match for the devils, of course, but for a moment the grove was filled with chaos...

...And that was exactly the distraction that Ruin had been waiting for. He appeared behind the devils, beside one of the priests, and took a brief moment to get his bearings. Then, as Spike again clawed the barbed devil and shifted back to avoid being trapped, Ruin cut the priestess apart. 

Thunder rumbled overhead, and a bolt of lightning lanced up, piercing another priestess as it reached to touch the clouds. The woman staggered, but didn't go down and didn't stop her chanting. That's not good. Whatever they were doing, Zoriel needed to disrupt it: keep them distracted and off-balance.

Ruin crossed the buttress roots of the Kapok as if they were flat ground, and cut her down. One of the devils suddenly realized he was there and turned on him, but the summoned wolves were still harrying it and it wasn't as fast as it should have been; none of its attacks managed to touch him. 

Two of the barbed devils managed to surround Spike, and cut into him with their claws; a couple of blows connected, but they couldn't take hold and try to impale the cave bear.

Zoriel put the next lightning bolt behind one of the devils harrying his bear, and wrapped a wall of fire around the Kapok, with the flames facing out. It wouldn't affect the devils, but he doubted that the priests were immune to fire. Ruin was still there, too close, but there was no other way... Zoriel felt a certain mixture of guilt and glee at the thought.

Ruin stepped out of the fire unharmed, and cut into the approaching devil. It staggered back, but didn't fall. It tried to grab Ruin but failed; Zoriel's spell kept Ruin free to move. It snarled as the two remaining priests scrambled out of the flames, robes still scorched and smoking. One of them looked at Zoriel, straightened, and sneered. "A momentary interruption..." She cast something, and blossomed into a towering, powerful figure. "Behold the might of Apollyon." 

She pushed one of the devils aside and came forward, swinging a massive mace at Zoriel. He'd applied his own magical protections, of course, but he still felt it glance off his shoulder with shattering force. Had he prepared any less thoroughly, he would have been flattened.

For a moment, the battle hung in the balance. Spike was surrounded, Ruin occupied, and Zoriel very possibly outmatched by this priestess and her magics and her weapon. The wolves were being shredded by the devils they were attacking, and...

The remaining priest screamed, and the priestess whirled around to behold her fellow religious with his feet six inches off the ground, impaled on a spiral horn. 

The unicorns had arrived. 

Zoriel had only intended to summon ordinary unicorns, but here -- to protect this place -- a celestial charger had answered his call as well. With a unicorn on either side, it tore into the devils and took them apart, taking the pressure off Spike while Ruin carved his way through the devil attacking him. 

"No," said the priestess. Zoriel put another bolt of lightning through her but she shrugged it off and came at him again, swinging the oversized mace. 

"Yes," said Zoriel, and turned his skin to stone. He didn't like to fight hand-to-hand, but he positioned his shield and drew his scimitar. "You can't have our forest. It isn't yours."

"It will be," she snarled, "by right of conquest!"

She swung again, and his shield shattered under the impact; again, and he staggered back. He turned her next blow with his blade, just far enough to feel the air stir as it slammed past his face and buried itself in the ground. One of the unicorns tried to impale her, but she brushed it aside. 

Then Ruin was there, cutting into her from behind as Spike ripped through the last of the barbed devils. She staggered, and Zoriel cut with his scimitar and opened a line of blood on her forearm. Then the celestial charger speared her through, and that was it. She sagged and fell limp. 

The forest went quiet around them. The last of the summoned wolves disappeared; the two unicorns did as well. Ruin offered a hand to the celestial charger, watched it shy back from him, and muttered: "Right, I should have remembered..." 

They'd won. It didn't seem possible, but they had.  Ruin sat down abruptly, and Zoriel watched as the warrior's wounds closed on their own. He swallowed, then turned to the Celestial Charger. "Noble cousin," he said, "I am grateful for your aid."

The unicorn regarded him. Then its mouth moved, and despite the impossibility of an equine throat producing human speech, its voice came rich to his ears: "I am grateful for yours," it said. "This is my place, after all. Or did you think that only druids watch over the wild places of our world?"

Ruin chuckled, and Zoriel felt himself flush. "I would like to send further aid..." he began cautiously. 

The unicorn studied him. "You are welcome here," it said. "The Circle of the Bounteous Forest is welcome to return, if any of them yet live." It turned its head, regarded Ruin. "You are welcome as well, for all that you reek of blood and conflict."

Ruin lowered his head. "I am grateful for your welcome," he said. 

"Then let the druids come, and find their places here, and learn from us as they did before. I will see you again when it is time." With that, the Celestial Charger turned and trotted off into the forest. 

Zoriel had his mouth open, and it stayed open as the unicorn departed. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. This was one of the sacred groves, cultivated and protected by the druids of Duendewood... and that beast had the arrogance to--

He sighed, suddenly, and sat down. Spike came and stretched out on the ground beside him, eighteen feet of fur and claws covered in the metal armor that the smiths had worked so hard to craft. "You may be right about me," he admitted. 

Ruin lifted his head and studied his expression. "How do you mean?" he asked. 

"I think... I think perhaps my master was right not to pass his insight on to me. I... I have been too concerned with my position and what I felt I was due. My concerns have been... petty. Unbecoming of the Druid Hierophant. Have the unicorns always had the charge of this grove? I didn't know, don't know, but this one seemed very sure of it. And here I was, assuming that naturally the druids would be in charge, as if only we knew the best way of doing things." He sighed. "You were right to despise me."

Ruin shook his head. "I didn't despise you," he said. "I thought you were angry, and grieving, and bitter, and that's a place I know well in my own mind. And you were foremost among Saladhel's apprentices for a reason, probably many reasons. A confluence, as the old man might have said." 

He was silent for the space of a breath, and then another and another, but Zoriel didn't interrupt him. He was learning, he thought... And Ruin really had known his teacher, somehow, well enough to have some genuine insight into how the ancient druid thought -- even if he did refer to him as the old man.

At last Ruin said, "And not ready yet is not the same thing as unworthy." 

Zoriel felt his heart race, and forced it back to its usual pace. "Don't give it to me," he said, and couldn't believe that he was speaking those words -- and more, that he actually meant them. "Not yet, at the very least. Talk to the others. Talk to all of them. Even Elendor." He swallowed. "Find the best candidate, even if it isn't me." 

Ruin nodded solemnly. "You have my word."

Ruin: Hierophant Candidates, Part Five

It was the trees that nearly defeated them, tearing at their skin and catching on their clothes, even digging into the cave bear's fur. Their limbs were tangled and their leaves were curled closed into hooks, impossibly sharp. The pine trees launched needles at them, and various animals lurched out of the brush to attack them. 

Spike led the way at first, shouldering limbs aside and ripping plants out of the ground, mauling their attackers with teeth and claws; but after a time, when the bear stood panting in the wake of the latest attack, Ruin touched it on the shoulder and said, "You've done well. Let me lead now."

The cave bear made a sort of gruff honking noise. 

"Call directions," Ruin said, and started cutting his way forward. 

For half an hour he pushed on, clearing devil-tainted brush and slicing through grasping roots and reaching limbs while Zoriel kept him on track. A corrupted deer charged him and died; a bat-winged jaguar did likewise. He was a smaller target than Spike, and the cuts on his cheeks and hands closed almost instantly. A swarm of something that had once been mosquitos but now were enlarged and horribly changed swept over them, but Zoriel called an ice storm and took them down. 

"We should go back," the druid said at last. "Return with reinforcements."

Ruin shook his head. "No time," he said. "It won't be long before they open a portal here and the effect begins to spread rapidly. It has to be us, and it has to be now."

"They?" asked Zoriel. 

Ruin stopped, and the druid straightened. Beside him, his cave bear whuffed loudly. "There's someone up ahead, and they're about to repeat what was done to Sol Povos. If we don't stop it now, everything around us will be overrun with devils -- and twisted into diabolic new forms."

There was a long pause. Zoriel regarded Ruin with no particular expression, and Ruin waited. Spike gave a soft, honking moan. "How far ahead?" Zoriel asked at last. 

"Another few minutes at most."

"Let me know before we crash into them," Zoriel said. "I'll do what I can to make us as strong as possible." He pointed, and Ruin turned and began to cut his way forward again.

Ruin: Hierophant Candidates, Part Four

"Here," said Zoriel. He gestured ahead of them. "The grove is this way."

"Where are we, exactly?" asked Ruin. 

"About three miles east of Sabertooth Lake, southeast of the Fey Grove." The giant bear moved forward, sniffing cautiously at the air, and Ruin drew his blade. 

There was something profoundly wrong here. Ruin lacked a druid's sense of the way things should be, but he could see the way the trees were unnaturally twisted, the leaves turned thin and hooked, the roots pulsing against the ground. Oh, this is not going to end well. He took a moment to look around, then ducked aside as something half-glimpsed came hurtling towards his head. 

It was, he thought, some sort of nut. Or it had been, before something had rendered it gray and withered, almost more like stone... or old bone. He looked up, and after a moment spotted the black-furred beast with the glowing red eyes sitting on a tree branch, studying him silently. Small, black horns curled up from its head, and there was something about its back... vestigial wings? 

On a squirrel?

"This is a bad place," Ruin observed. 

Zoriel snorted. "You're just noticing? I warned you it would be like this."

The bear glanced back at them and grunted, and Zoriel nodded. "We should get moving."

"We should," Ruin agreed, and started forward.

The air was heavier here, almost too humid to breathe, and hot. For Ruin, it was merely uncomfortable; he wondered how Zoriel didn't find it disabling. "How far to the shrine?" 

"Not far," Zoriel told him. "Half a mile, maybe. But we'll have to go on foot; ever since it was corrupted, it... started hiding itself. Or moving around, I'm not sure which."

Wonderful, Ruin thought. Aloud, he just said: "You have some way to find it?"

Zoriel nodded and cast a spell. Ruin didn't recognize it, but then that was well outside his area of expertise. "This way," Zoriel said, and pointed. 

They'd been walking for about ten minutes, with Ruin pausing periodically to study the ground and the forest around them, when something burst out of the bushes and slammed into the side of the bear, sinking massive fangs into the base of its neck. Its fur was red and its configuration was feline, though heavily built through the chest and shoulders. It managed to slip past the metal barding that protected the bear, which howled and reared up in pain. 

Ruin slipped forward, cutting, and connected. He could feel his connection to the realm of death take effect, reaching through his blade to take extra life from the sabertooth and give a false semblance of it to him. The tainted beast wrenched loose of the bear, and turned to snarl at Ruin, but he only met its eyes and shook his head. He knew how deep his blade had cut. 

Then the bear turned and fell on its attacker, an avalanche of gray fur that ripped and tore and took the animal apart. Ruin stepped back, checked their surroundings, and then looked to Zoriel, who had gone pale. "I take it this is why you wanted company?"

Zoriel shook his head. "It wasn't this bad, the last time I came to check. How...?" Then he stepped forward, and laid a hand on the flank of his massive bear, murmuring under his breath as he did so. The animal shook itself as the wounds on its neck closed. "I... Thank you. Spike could have taken that thing, but..." 

There was a long, fraught silence. 

Finally, Ruin said: "I don't think you and I are ever going to be friends... but I do like your bear."

Zoriel whuffed a surprised laugh. "Yes, well... the two of you have a lot in common."

Ruin decided to let that one go. "Let's go find this grove and end this, before it gets any worse."

Zoriel paused to consider, then pointed again: "This way."

Ruin: Hierophant Candidates, Part Three

"Of course it should be me," Zoriel said. "I was first among his apprentices, the conclusion is obvious, and the decision should never have been left to you."

"That part," Ruin said quietly, "was not my choice."

Zoriel glared at him, but when Ruin only looked back he dropped his eyes. "My teacher did have his quirks," the druid admitted. "And with his foresight, he didn't always explain things in ways that made sense to the rest of us. I still don't know what he saw in you, though."

"I don't either," Ruin admitted. He remembered a brief visit to his campfire, but decided not to share that with Zoriel. Perhaps even back then, Saladhel had known... "What of Elendor? I'm  told she's the strongest of the remaining druids."

Zoriel sneered. "She's weak. She turned to the worship of Jensen, and forsook the Circles. She's strong again now, but she doesn't deserve to be Hierophant."

Ruin hesitated, then nodded. He wasn't yet ready to rule out Elendor, but it was a fair point. "You kept faith, at least. So did Saladhel's other apprentices, as I understand it."

"They did, but..." He cut himself off and looked away. "Damn it, this is not your business."

Ruin didn't answer. 

After a long, uncomfortable moment Zoriel sighed. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?" He sounded vaguely surprised. "You mean to make as thorough a search as possible."

Ruin nodded. "And to choose the best possible candidate," he said. "Even if it's someone who hates me."

Zoriel considered that for a long moment. Then he said, "Show me. You want what's best for the druids? Help me to help them. Help us."

Intrigued, Ruin  asked: "What do you have in mind?"

"The priests of Apollyon were trying to uproot us in a lot of ways," Zoriel told him. "It wasn't just forcing us into diabolical contracts. A small group of them corrupted a grove well to the east of here -- another of their attempts to cut us off from the forces of the natural world. In better times, that grove marked the point where forest gave way to rainforest; now it corrupts everything around it. Help me restore it, and I'll give you my honest evaluation of my teacher's other apprentices -- and tell you where to find them, so you can see for yourself."

Ruin made a quick calculation. "I can spare four days before I need to get back," he said. 

"I can take us the same way we traveled to the High Grove, plant to plant, to the edge of the corruption." Zoriel was half-grinning, now; his expression was a challenge. 

With a small shrug, Ruin gave in. "Very well." He considered the equipment he had on him. "I'm ready."

Zoriel gave a sharp whistle, and the largest bear Ruin had ever seen lumbered over to them. "Very well, then. Come with us."

Oh, thought Ruin, this is such a bad idea. Still, he couldn't think of any better way take the measure of Zoriel. And if the druid tried to murder him, well... that would definitely count against him as a candidate for the position of Druid Hierophant.

Ruin: Hierophant Candidates, Part Two

"So," said Alnira, now that they were safely ensconsed atop the limb of one of the ancient trees outside of Calisthum. "You murdered Saladhel."

Ruin sighed, looking for all the world as if he expected her to attack him and felt compelled to allow it. "Not exactly," he said. "My friends and I were trapped on an island world called Fanaxia, which used to occupy the land where Mar Dentro is now." He hesitated, studying her face. "It's a long story, but this is basically where the Dark One who became the Goddess Vecna arose."

Alnira nodded cautiously. 

"While we were there," he said carefully, "we reawakened a second Druid Hierophant, an ancient true elf called Zilf. Unfortunately, there cannot be two Hierophants in the same land... and Fanaxia, for all its troubles, was once a part of Sol Povos. As the only true elf present, Zilf made me choose which of them would stand, and which would fall. At the time, Fanaxia seemed to be in much greater danger than Sol Povos, so I chose Zilf." He squeezed his eyes shut. "And condemned Saladhel."

"Ah," said Alnira, thinking that over. It certainly made more sense than the cold-blooded murder that Zoriel had half-implied. "And now you have to choose the next Hierophant." Word of that had swept through the remaining druids in the wake of the battle at the Sacred Grove. 

"I'm not sure it's choose so much as find," Ruin said. "So... on top of everything else, I'm searching. But, well... I studied with the druids in my youth, but I never became one. Who might be a good candidate? Would you?" 

Alnira considered. She'd been an acolyte of Vuelisharrn, and intended someday to take her place among the Council of Nine. Not yet, though... She didn't feel ready, and hadn't expected to be ready for another century at least. She'd been trusted, yes, and she'd done what she could to save the least experienced, but...

She shook her head. "I don't believe so. Maybe in time, but... My teacher Vuelisharrn had his own particular duties. I might have spent a century or so learning them, and two more teaching them to another, before I was ready to be considered for some greater authority. Add to that the fact that if you choose me it might look like favoritism, as there's a very definite chance that I'm carrying your child."

Ruin studied her for a long moment; then he nodded. "Will that be a problem for you, O my lover?"

Alnira shook her head. "I wouldn't have let it happen, were that the case. Is it a problem for you? It's early yet; I could still end it. But I find I like the idea of raising a child, even with..." She gestured vaguely. "...All this."

Ruin was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, "It's only a problem for me in that I want to make sure that any child of mine is loved and happy, and I don't know if I'll be able to ensure that."

"I'll ensure it," Alnira said quietly. "Our child will grow up here, among the druids. It won't lack for care or company." She hesitated, then added: "The same for the child that I suspect Nym is carrying. I don't know if she's realized it yet."

"I suspected," Ruin said. Terra Windblade had told him he would have more children, and Nym and Alnira were the most likely to be their mothers. "I'll need to talk to her about it." He hesitated, then turned the conversation back to his original purpose: "Who else should I ask about the next Hierophant?"

Alnira looked off into the branches around them for a long moment. "Zoriel was Saladhel's foremost apprentice," she said. "I think he hates you, but that alone doesn't make him a bad candidate. Elendor is probably the most powerful druid left, so you should talk to her as well. But Saladhel did have other apprentices, and even if they aren't suitable they probably have insights to offer."

Ruin nodded, looking thoughtful. "Then I'll have to speak to them as well. Thank you." He tilted his head and met her eyes again. "Don't rule yourself out, though. You give good and thoughtful advice."

Alnira smiled. "I do my best, but... Can we be a little less thoughtful, now?" she asked. "It's been a long day, and I know a nearby glade where the grass is exceptionally soft..."

Ruin: Hierophant Candidates, Part One

"That's enough for today," Alnira said, looking over her ragtag group of pupils. "Those of you old enough to have chores, get to them. Those of you too young... back to your parents, or whoever's taking care of you now."

She watched as they dispersed. Milathyra had shown up with young Joe R. Pious a week or so after the battle for the sacred grove, and she watched as the two of them moved away again. The boy still woke up screaming in the night sometimes, and after what she'd heard Alnira didn't blame him in the least. Takshin stalked away like he was on the hunt, one hand on each of the scimitars that he'd claimed from the dead. What sort of druid he might eventually become, Alnira had no idea.

As the others moved away, Alnira realized that Ilanora and Nadja, the red-headed weather witch twins, were still sitting in front of her, holding hands. Both were still but girls, but as long as they were together their influence over the weather was uncanny. "Girls?" asked Alnira, to get their attention. 

Nadja looked stubbornly past her. "Who's that?"

Alnira turned, and saw Ruin walking towards them. Towards her, most likely, though his expression was unreadable and his attention flicked from point to point around the camp. "Ah," she said. "That's Ruin."

"I told you," Nadja said to her twin. 

Illanora looked up at Alnira. "Are you in love with him?"

Alnira made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and gasp of surprise. "Sacred Trees, I surely hope not," she said. If ever there was a man who was going to break hearts and never intend a bit of it... "No, but I do need to talk to him."

"Oh," said Illanora, as Ruin reached them and stopped. 

He paused, looking down at the twins, and his expression lost some of its usual intensity. "Hello," he said. "I'm Ruin."

The girls exchanged a glance, then looked back up at him, and after a moment he said: "You don't have to tell me your names, though in some places it's considered rude not to when someone offers you theirs."

"In other places it's safer not to, though," observed Nadja. 

"True," Ruin admitted. "Which sort of place do you think this is?"

Nadja scrunched her face up, thinking furiously, but Illanora said: "It's neither. It's not rude not to give our names, but it's not dangerous to give them."

"Very good," said Ruin. Then: "Girls, will you give Alnira and me some privacy? Not to follow us, not to listen?"

Illanora nodded, but Nadja said: "Wait. I'm Nadja."

"I'm Illanora," added her sister. "We need to check the berries now, but I liked meeting you."

"I liked meeting you too," said Ruin, looking back and forth between them to make it clear that he was addressing both.

Alnira turned to him as the girls stood and walked away. They moved deliberately, not quite as focused as Takshin had been but very much following their own chosen course. "You're very good with them," she said, turning back to Ruin. 

"They're good kids," he said, though to her knowledge he had never so much as seen them before. "Do you have some time to talk?"

"I do," she said. "What did you want to talk about?"

"The Druid Hierophant," he said, looking serious again. 

"Saladhel?" She frowned. The Hierophant's death had thrown the druids into disarray, some of it born from fear and some of it simple disorganization. 

"Yes," said Ruin. "I knew him. Not well, but I knew him. And I condemned him to die."

Alnira gasped, then looked quickly around. Ruin had spoken quietly, in little more than a whisper, and nobody around them seemed to have noticed. Still, druids had notoriously sharp hearing, and she had already heard that Ruin was somehow supposed to replace the fallen Hierophant. 

"We should... We should take a walk. You don't actually know how to change your shape, do you?" She didn't think he could -- he didn't seem like any sort of druid or magus she'd ever met -- but there was something about him that was just feral enough to make her wonder.

"No," he said, "but I can do this." He took her hand and the world lurched around them, and suddenly they were standing in the trees well outside the camp.