Kaamos

Pulchara had an odd way of perpetually looking like autumn, regardless of what time of year it was. The variety of trees their gatherers had brought back from around the world meant that no matter when you visited you would find a myriad of colors in every shade reaching skyward from the Pulcharan Grove. 

Muangata thought this word was an ill-fitting one to describe what they saw, however. "Muangata has seen grove, and Muangata has seen forest. This is forest.", they thought to themselves as they walked closer to the somewhat small town on the Southern Parean coast. While Parea was home to some of the most diverse groups of peoples, Muangata was still somewhat of an anomaly in these parts. They were an Aspidoscelia, or what's more commonly known as a "Lizard Folk"; it was simpler to say, after all. Even among the Aspidoscelia, however, Muangata was still somewhat of a rarity, as they were a member of the tribe of Ve. 

Ve was a small community of lizard folk who broke away from the larger community of their kin in Kosna generations ago. Consisting exclusively of biological females, the tribe of Ve had somehow become a variant of lizard folk who reproduced asexually, and as such, had become somewhat their own odd subspecies among the natives of Kosna. They lost the need for gendered pronouns, spoke in broken third-person Common, and had very little variance in the way they looked. The few outsiders to the village would often assume they had stumbled upon an island of clones until they learned to spot the subtle differences in markings, eye shapes, and voice that could be used to distinguish one Ve person from the next. Complicating matters further, Muangata was even a rarity among the Ve. 

While the people of Ve were scaled in green with minor markings of yellow or darker green, Muangata had scales of dark, ember red with dark brown markings over their eyes and shoulders. They were also taller than most of their kin- standing a slender six and a half feet to the average five-eight to five-ten of their community. Their voice was markedly different as well. While most of the lizard folk in Ve had a bright, higher pitched voice, Muangata developed into a darker, smooth, lower pitched speaking voice. 

Muangata mused over all of this as they closed in on the outskirts of Pulchara. They were seeking someone from their childhood who called this town home, though all they had to go on was a name and a description muddied by years between now and their last meeting. Saeyn, an older elven woman, visited Ve roughly 16 years ago, when Muangata was just a child, in search of rare trees to harvest seeds and saplings from. Saeyn saw that Muangata was treated differently for their appearance, and quickly took to treating Muangata as her own personal ambassador to Ve. The two spent the better part of a week exploring the small island and its vegetation. At the end of her stay Saeyn had gathered a small collection of seeds from the Felsul and Vundwood trees that grew well in the relatively dry and rocky soil of the desert island.  

"You have helped me more than you know, little Gata. I understand that it is rare for anyone of your village to leave it, but should you ever find yourself near the town of Pulchara, please allow me to repay you the hospitality you have shown me during my stay here." 

So, eventually, Muangata decided to take her up on that offer. They had nowhere else to go after their village asked them to leave, anyway, so why not start their journey by visiting old friends? 

Pulchara was a idyllic town, nestled into the Pulcharan Grove, multicolor trees embracing the village from the north, east, and south. In the space between were the modest homes of peoples from all over the world. Elves and orcs lived next door to each other here, something one would be hard pressed to find anywhere else in Almora. Muangata exchanged pleasant greetings with a few tall, feathered people they recognized as Aarakocra, a woman who resembled the few lions they had seen in their years, and even an exceptionally kind goblin who pointed Muangata to the village's only inn, The Oaken Spirit. The most fascinating people Muangata saw as they entered town, however, were the Soul Arborists. Massive seven to eight foot tall people who resembled elephants standing upright (who Muangata later learned were called loxodonta) walked the small town's streets in clean, simple robes with an air of transcendence that was hard to ignore. There was a quiet reverence among the people they passed, a subtle awe and appreciation on the faces of the townsfolk. 

Making their way to the inn after thoroughly taking in what they could see in town, Muangata found an older elven man sitting idly behind the bar. The building was well shaded by the fact that it sat fairly close to the forest on the north end of town. That, paired with the fact that the taproom had a conspicuous shortage of windows, led to strange lighting in the taproom. Slashes of light found their footing on various parts of the seating area, seeming to lend importance to otherwise mundane tables and chairs covered in dust and ale-stains. There was an oppressive quiet as well, with the smallest creak of the owner's chair as he leaned forward to eye Muangata serving only to highlight the silence rather than shatter it. 

"Can I help you, traveler?", the elf managed to mutter after a long, awkward silence. 

"Probably. Muangata would like room, food, and to find their friend, Saeyn.", Muangata pleasantly responded. 

A pained look crossed the innkeeper's face at the mention of Saeyn. "I can help with the first two, provided you can pay. Saeyn, however, is... well. Gone." 

"Oh! Where should Muangata look for Saeyn, then?" 

"In the Grove. Under the youngest Parean Blackwood. She...passed away.", the elf tapered off. 

"This is bitters to hear. Muangata only knew Saeyn for short time, but considered her a good friend. Saeyn found vundwood in Muangata's home village. Muangata was the one to help Saeyn find the wood."

A glimmer of realization crossed the man's face. "You're the little lizardfolk girl she talked about! I remember that! Saeyn was my wife, you see. While she worked for the Soul Arborists collecting the trees of the world for our grove, I stayed here and helped support her travel from afar. I do remember her talking about you though. It's good to finally meet you, Muangata. My name is Vinra." The elf held out his hand to Muangata to shake it. 

They took it, but explained, "This is kind of true. Saeyn came to Muangata's village when they were but a hatchling, but Muangata is not girl. Muangata understands many have name for something called gender, but Ve does not have such a thing. Muangata is just them, not boy or girl." 

 "OH!", he responded with realization. "That's right, I do remember Saeyn explaining that now. My apologies. So, what brings you here all the way from Kosna?", Vinra asked. 

"Muangata is on pilgrimage, of sorts. Muangata has had trouble controlling their magic, at times, and the elders of Ve have asked Muangata to spend some time away from village while they figure it out. Muangata thought it best to come see friend in Pulchara, since they do not know much about the world yet." 

"I see.", Vinra mumbled, seeming to get lost in a memory, only to come back and finish, "I'm so sorry you couldn't have seen her before she died. She really did think highly of you, and thought the trees she found on your island to be the most fascinating wood she'd ever tended to. It's why she was nearly planted with the vundwood, afterall. It was a last minute decision for her to be planted with Parean blackwood." 

"Vinra has said this twice: planted with Parean blackwood. What does this mean?" Muangata took a seat at the bar, intrigued by this odd phrasing. 

"Did Saeyn not explain why she collected wood from around Almora?", Vinra asked. 

"Muangata does not remember. Muangata was still young, and did not understand many things Saeyn tried to explain."

"I see. Well, I may not be the best person to explain this, then. Can you wait a few minutes while I make you something to eat? Isol should be here soon, and he can explain the concept far better than I." 

"Muangata would be happy to wait, so long as there is food."

Before too long a tall, broad loxodonta came through the door in robes only mildly more ornate than the ones Muangata had seen on the other Soul Arborists, and carrying a long, thick staff made of some beautiful red wood that Muangata did not recognize. The large loxodonta eyed Muangata, not with suspicion, but with the gaze of someone who wants to take in as much as possible about a person before they have a chance to speak. Vinra moved to the door. 

"Muangata, this is Isol. He is the Head Councilor of the Soul Arborists in Pulchara. I believe your questions would be better answered by him. Isol, this is Muangata. They are from Kosna, and are a friend of my late wife's. They met on one of her expeditions, and Muangata came to pay a visit. They are interested to know more about what it is we do here." 

Isol stood silently for a moment further. It was increasingly obvious that Isol was not a person who could be rushed, and did all things in a time that felt most appropriate to him. Taking a deep, peaceful breath in, Isol moved from the doorway of the inn and came to sit near Muangata. 

"Vinra is careful to avoid he or she when describing you. Am I to understand that you carry no gender?", a low, strong voice inquired. Isol spoke softly, but with certainty. It was a voice that never had to yell to be heard. 

"That is correct, Head Councilor. Muangata has survived 24 years with no gender. They see no reason to acquire one now."

Isol grew a small, genuine grin on his face. "If more people could rid themselves of that which has no use for them, this world would be a better place indeed. I am pleased to meet you, Muangata, and I would be honored to explain what it is the Soul Arborists do. Vinra, could you do me the favor of fetching me a bit of water?"

The old elf dutifully fetched a mug and filled it with clean water, laying it on the bar for Isol. Isol watched the man do this with appreciative eyes, not rushing him, but observing every movement with intention. He picked the mug up in his large, grey hands, drank slowly, and placed the mug down gently. Only then did he return his gaze to the lizard folk waiting on his story. Without preamble, he began. 

"When a member of our community dies we honor their life and their legacy by placing the seed of a tree within their hearts before we bury them. The individual will often have a specific type of tree picked out before their passing, though in the case of sudden deaths, the family is allowed to make their best guess at what the departed would like."

"Muangata thinks this is beautiful practice. What if family cannot decide on type of tree?" 

"We Soul Arborists are allowed to counsel these families through the decision making process should they need it. It is rare, but it does happen from time to time. All parties involved want to get this right, as it is what allows them to maintain their connection with the deceased." 

"Muangata is confused. When person is...deceased, they are gone. What does this mean, 'connection'"?

"Ah. That is the soul of why we do what we do, if you will forgive the pun. You see, Muangata, a tree that grows from the heart of our loved ones takes on their soul as they leave their body behind. This is evidenced by the magical nature of anything made from the wood of these trees." 

Muangata gasped. "Isol cuts down the tree souls of families for wood?!"

Isol offered a small, deep laugh. "No. Of course not. You are right to be concerned. Any civilization that would do that would not be honoring their dead- only exploiting them. Some wood is given freely, however." 

"How can tree deads give wood?"

"A soul has much to process from it's previous life. As a person's soul begins to work through unfinished thoughts, or remember important memories, it will grow branches. When the soul is finished working through whatever that branch represents, it allows for the elements to take it from them. Wind, snow, lightning, or just plain gravity will bring the branch down to us, and we record what tree it came from, and offer it to the Soul Shapers, our craftsmen here in town." 

"You have record of who each tree grew from? There is whole forest to keep track of!"

"This is part of the work of the Soul Arborists. We tend to the trees, and the animals that call them home. We record and map where each soul is planted along with the name of the person planted. We also communicate with our Soul Shapers to keep records on what kind of items the trees produce." 

"What does this mean? Does not the shaper decide this?"

"That is only part of the equation. The nature of the person's character in life determines the kind of qualities their wood offers. For example, a particularly religious person, devout in love of life and light, might produce wood that, when paired with bow or blade, is particularly helpful when dispatching the undead. Another person who was a caretaker in life may produce wood that makes clothes or potions that help protect and heal those who use them. We have one yew tree with the soul of a satyr in it that appears only to produce....virility enhancing qualities. I have yet to decide if it is more frustrating that his soul seems to be so hung up on bodily pleasures, or that products made from his tree rarely stay on shelves longer than a day." 

Muangata laughed freely at this. "If that is what satyr was good at in life, at least they are...keeping it up." They shot a knowing glance at Vinra who did his best to suppress a laugh as well. Isol gave the smallest exhalation of amusement, then took a moment to drink from his mug again. A thought occurred to Muangata. 

"What happens when soul is of evil person, Isol?" 

Isol slowly finished his water before answering. "That is another responsibility of the Soul Arborists. We do our best to ensure that those with enough darkness in their hearts are not planted in our grove. Some people are frighteningly adept at hiding secrets, however. The soul usually reveals itself quickly, and when the Soul Shapers begin to work with the wood they discover the darkness within. There are times when the Soul Shapers do not discover this darkness until the item is made, however, and a curse is found within the heart of the item. The result is always the same, though, when it is discovered. The Soul Arborists first approach the family to present them with our discovery. It has been a long time since it has happened, but the family does have the right to deny what we find. This can be a painful process, as it often requires us to dig up secrets of the past by means magical and not, and we often unearth things that are disturbing to the people who loved the departed. In exceptionally rare cases we find wood from a single branch is cursed, but the rest of the tree remains safe, in which case we simply leave it be. Everyone makes mistakes, after all." 

"It seems the Soul Arborists have thought of everything!" 

"That is our hope. We have been tending this forest in some shape or form for nearly four thousand years, after all." 

Muangata reeled at this number, trying to imagine the scope of four millennia. They remained silent, struggling to make sense of the age of the forest they were sitting mere feet from. 

Isol continued. "If the heart of the tree is determined to be corrupted, though, we uproot the tree, and burn it. There is a ceremony, a showing of support to any surviving family, and the Soul Arborists consecrate the land surrounding where the tree was."

There was a long pause. Muangata thought of Saeyn. "Vinra. What kind of things do you think will be made from the wood Saeyn gives freely?" 

Vinra offered a sad smile. "That's a good question. I've given that a lot of thought actually. More than usual, at least. Saeyn was strong, and she brought out the best in people. She helped make others strong, and saw the world with eyes unfiltered. That was a beautiful thing, usually. It also fed the shadow in her, though. She saw things, on her travels, you know? She would come back darker sometimes. The way the sun elves in Eora would treat our wood elf kin. The poverty in Bekon. The violence in Zellisim. The sight-singers north of Midnest. And there were things she didn't talk about. Not even with time, or prying, or support. There were things that entered her eyes never to escape her lips. She died with those shadows in her. Rather, she died because of the shadows in her." 

"What does this mean? Muangata does not wish to offend, but can Vinra explain more?" 

Vinra looked to Isol for support, and the large loxodonta placed his hands on the old elf's shoulder. "It is not my story to tell friend. She was your partner. Breathe life into her story, if you can.", Isol offered. 

Taking a deep breath, Vinra managed to utter, "She uh. Well." Tears could be heard in his voice before they reached his eyes. "She took her own life." A long pause. The silence of the room changed. Where earlier it was almost oppressive, defying any sound that dare be caught here, now the silence was a vessel, carrying the weight of emotion the three people in this room couldn't. "Anyway.", Vinra choked out. "Let me show you your room."

 

      

Muangata often thought of Saeyn and the world beyond Ve in general during their formative years, feeling alone and isolated in their own village. They were more sad than they expected to be at the news that she had died. Once their bizarre magical powers began to surface as a preteen, the isolation only got worse, and the idea that somewhere in the world there might be people who understood and accepted them gave Muangata hope at times. They tried to recall as much detail as possible as they lay in their upstairs room of the Oaken Spirit the following morning. 

They crawled out of their small bundle of pillows surrounding them on the bed- a small comfort that reminded them of nesting at home- and stepped to the window to get oriented. The window looked northward, and offered a staggering view of the Pulcharan Grove reaching around to embrace the village. Muangata still struggled to take it all in; there were so many colors of bark and leaves, shapes and sizes, and curious patterns for them to try to understand that they were soon entranced. They had no idea how long they had been standing there when they were pulled from their focus by Vinra's voice calling to them, followed by the jarring sensation of falling roughly 3 feet to the ground. Muangata stumbled to catch their balance before slowly looking to Vinra. 

"Why was Muangata in the air?", they slowly asked. 

"I...well, I had the same question." 

A look of realization crossed their face as Muangata finally relaxed and took a deep breath in. "Muangata understands now. They should apologize. This kind of thing happens sometimes. Muangata sometimes has magic that happens without Muangata trying to make it happen. Floating this time, it would appear." 

Vinra offered an puzzled look before seeming to give up on understanding, shrugging the issue away. "When its convenient, would you mind joining me downstairs? Saeyn has offered her first gift since her planting!", the older elf said in a bittersweet tone. 

Muangata followed him quickly downstairs to find Isol sitting in the same place he sat yesterday, though that might have been the only thing unchanged in the hours since they last saw the barroom. Muangata had heard the voices and noises of the Inn's patrons the previous night, but it seemed that Vinra had yet to catch up to the mess made by the evening crowd. When Isol saw Muangata descending the dark wood stairs, he grinned. 

"Muangata, my new friend. It would seem you have a talent for timing. Our Arborists found a strong, sturdy branch, just over 9 feet long, at the foot of Saeyn's tree this morning. It seems she is ready to offer her first gift. Would you like to go with me into the grove to retrieve it?" 

Muangata's eyes brightened in the dramatic fashion only a lizard folk is capable of, though they tried to reign in the visible excitement as they realized the solemn complexity of the situation. "Will Vinra be coming to gather this branch?"

"Of course! This is a very important moment for him as well.", Isol explained. 

"Then Muangata would be honored to join Isol and Vinra."

 

The three set off almost immediately, and began the short hike east towards the opposite end of town. It was still relatively early in the morning, so there were fewer people out and about than when Muangata arrived yesterday afternoon, but it seemed that everyone they passed had an idea of what had happened, as they all seemed to smile fondly seeing Vinra walking alongside Isol toward the Grove. 

As they reached the very edge of town they approached a small campus of buildings. "This is where the Soul Shapers work.", Isol explained. He pointed out a blacksmiths station, a fletcher's workshop, several carpentry sites, and a myriad of other more specialized centers that Muangata struggled to understand. Most striking to Muangata, though, was the focused determination that seemed to intoxicate the workers. Dwarves, gnomes, elves, humans, leoa, and haflings all worked here, and all carried an air of spirituality as they worked. What's more, they seemed more capable than any other craftsmen Muangata had ever encountered. These were experts in their respective fields, artisans capable of ensuring that nothing was wasted when a tree from the Grove offered them a gift. As they passed through the sacred worksite an older man began to walk with the group. He was a human, taller than average Muangata thought, with dark, shaggy, shoulder-length hair, and stubble struggling to retain its color. 

"This is Ohlan. He will be helping us determine what to make of this offering.", Isol explained without question. Ohlan nodded to Muangata but said nothing, continuing to walk. 

The Grove was unlike anything Muangata had seen, but they had no idea how much more impressive the forest would be under the shelter of the canopy. This forest seemed impossible to them. How could something that appeared so well-tended and peaceful feel so wild and natural? Muangata could swear they felt the balance between order and chaos being hung in this forest, the very essence of death being expressed through the life of the grove. It was hard for them to understand the sense they were getting, but Muangata knew they were walking through somewhere old, powerful, and sacred. 

The rising sun shattered itself against the varied leaves of the canopy, and Muangata was reminded of the stained glass they once saw in a temple in Bekon as they passed through. Only, this made no ornate depiction of some legend or history of mortals. Rather, this was nature's subtle reminder that the greatest works of man will always fall short of her majesty. There was no attempt at perfection in this canopy, and was therefore without imperfection. Muangata felt something deep in their heart stir. 

After roughly an hour of walking, Isol stopped at the base of a white-barked tree, surprisingly tall and thick for being just a few years old. At the base of the tree was the branch Isol described- roughly 9 feet long, ranging from 2 to 4 inches thick from base to tip. Vinra walked softly up to Muangata. 

"I think she'd want you to have this."

Muangata's heart began to race. "Surely Vinra should use this first branch! This is not for Muangata."

"She gave it within hours of you arriving, Muangata. She offered it to you." 

"Muangata does not even know how to begin to bear this gift. They will do their best to use this in a way that honors Saeyn. Thank you, Vinra. Muangata does not know how to make many things with wood, though. Can the Soul Shapers help with this?" 

"I can help you." said the soft, soothing voice of Ohlan. "What do you think this has been offered to you to make?" 

"Muangata has no idea. They have never done something like this before." 

"Think to your time with Saeyn. Try to remember anything of significance. Something this would make. You have time- we do not rush these things. Just let the memories inform your decision. I will be ready when you are.", reassured Ohlan. 

 

 

Muangata racked their brain on the walk back to the village. They remembered meeting Saeyn, exploring the island around Ve with her, explaining all the things they could about the trees in the area, and learning a great deal as well. It wasn't until they lay in bed three nights later that a memory came back. 

Muangata had to tend to some chores early one morning and Saeyn had gone ahead to search for vundwood saplings. Muangata found Saeyn hours later, far off course from where she should have been, and guided her back to the village. "What would I do without my little shepherd?", Saeyn had said that night. 

"What is this?", little Muangata asked. "Shepherd?" 

"Well, it's someone who looks after sheep. They tend to them, make sure they are healthy, protect them from predators, and most importantly, they find them when they are lost and lead them back home. All you need is a staff, and you'll be protecting and saving your own little flock!"

 

Muangata went to Ohlan early the morning after their revelation. "A staff. It is a staff. Muangata wants it to curve at the top, though."

Ohlan thought for a moment, then asked, "Like a shepherd's crook?"

"Yes! But. It has to be different. Like Muangata. Maybe it should curve all the way in. And have a bit of wood that holds it all together there." 

"So...like a cross, but with a circle at the top then?", Ohlan asked. 

"Yes! That is exactly what it should be!", Muangata exclaimed.  

"Alright. Let's get to work then."

 

They began by stripping the branch of its bark, and Muangata was amazed to see that the wood underneath was jet black. They learned from Vinra that night that Saeyn chose this wood for that exact reason. 

"It's what she said in her note. You know, when she....passed. She said, 'Plant me with Parean Blackwood when you do, so that I might grow into something that reflects the way I've felt for so long- all shadow inside.' It hurt, Muangata, to plant her with that seed, but I did it because that's what she wanted."

 

The next day they began steaming the tip of the branch and fastening straps around it to bend it into Muangata's desired shape. It took days of slow, tedious negotiations with the wood to complete the staff's loop, but it eventually took its shape and held. The last task was to saw the bottom of the branch, bore a hole in the stub, and slide it up to the base of the loop and fasten it with a simple spell Ohlan used for binding and mending items back together. When the pair saw that they were finished Ohlan remarked, "Only one thing left to do- find out what she wants this staff to do."

It was evening at this point, but a sense of urgency led Ohlan to grab a lantern and head toward the Grove, beckoning for Muangata to follow. They walked the hour long path to Saeyn's tree as the forest grew darker and darker. Muangata was startled to find Isol and Vinra sitting at the base of the tree as they arrived. 

"How...?", Muangata managed to stammer. 

"It's his job to know.", Ohlan answered as though it explained everything. 

As they neared Saeyn's tree Isol approached with his large grey hands outreached for the staff. He took it from Ohlan, and sat with his back against the tree. He inspected it for a short time, then placed it in front of him. He gestured for Ohlan to sit to his right, and Vinra his left. Finally, he asked for Muangata to sit across from him. He reached into a small pouch at his side and removed a fine pearl and a small brown feather. He sat with his hands facing up on each knee, pearl in one hand, and feather in the other, and began to utter some unfamiliar words. Muangata watched as the feather began to dance in Isol's hand as if some invisible person had picked it up and was twirling it absentmindedly in his palm. The pearl in the other hand, began to take on various colors, shifting around sometimes quickly, sometimes lingering on a color for much longer. 

Then the staff began to emit strange light and sound. Faint light moved across the loop of the staff as well as the cross, as though it were being written on. Muangata looked to make sure they were not the only one seeing this, and was relieved to see wide eyes on both Ohlan and Vinra. After a few moments the light and sound faded, the feather and pearl returned to normal, and Isol opened his eyes. It was hard to tell under the lantern light, but Muangata was sure they could see tears forming. "We should discuss this back at the Oaken Spirit." 

The group walked back to Pulchara in silence, entered the Inn which seemed to be closed for the night, and began to light the lanterns. It was only then that they could see that something had indeed been written on the staff in elvish script. Muangata could not read the language, but felt uncomfortable asking what it said right now. 

"Please tell me this item isn't cursed, Isol.", begged Vinra. "Saeyn was a good woman, Isol. Haunted, but good. She couldn't..."

Isol held up a hand and Vinra stopped speaking at once, though he was clearly still anxious. "This item is not cursed, Vinra. You can breathe easy."

Visible relief washed over Vinra as he sank into his creaky wooden chair behind the bar. Isol placed the staff on the bar and hung his lantern above it for better viewing. 

"This item does something I have never seen before, though. There are some basic properties, things we have seen often. It helps to protect its wielder, and hits a little harder than your average staff. But... There's another property. One I'm still trying to fully understand. It would seem it can sometimes send its victims to a place of shadow. At least, that's what I have discerned. What it means is somewhat obscure to me." 

Muangata could barely contain their curiosity. "Test it on Muangata.", they said. 

Ohlan, Isol, and Vinra all gave Muangata a look of disbelief. 

"Muangata has certain magic. It will be fine." 

Isol looked to Vinra, who looked to Ohlan, who looked to Isol and shrugged. Isol took as long as he needed in the moment, then looked to Muangata and stood, grabbing the staff. "You understand this may hurt. And may even be lethal?", he confirmed. 

"Saeyn would not hurt Muangata. This will be fine." 

The loxodonta wore a resolved look on his face, and slowly lifted the staff over his right shoulder and brought it down upon Muangata's chest. In an instant Muangata saw all the light and heat leave the room. 

Except, it wasn't the same room. It was close, but there were holes in the walls, the door was hanging off it's hinges, and outside the sky looked...wrong. Muangata felt a dread creep up their spine. There was no color here. Muangata slowly crept to the window and saw the forest was a dead, mangled thing. Dying, miserable branches reached for a starless sky of shadow in an army of twisted trunks and jagged roots. Spider-webs and hanging mosses were the closest thing to leaves the trees could claim to have. Muangata had felt something sacred in the grove when they first entered it, and they were certain that this shadow grove was as evil as the original grove was divine. Repulsed as they were, they could only look away when they sensed movement toward the decrepit mockery of the town on the other side of the front door. 

Silver eyes looked toward Muangata through the massive holes in the wall from a distance. Grey fleshed, bald, hunched humanoid figures were sniffing in Muangata's direction. Feral and rarely alone, Muangata knew these beasts to be ghouls. They suddenly regretted their decision to volunteer for this experiment, as they weren't entirely sure where they were, or how to get back, and they weren't sure how many ghouls were about to sniff them out and come to investigate. For now they only saw three pairs of eyes, but soon 4 more gave signal, followed by dozens. Dozens of ghouls were beginning to take interest in this false inn, and Muangata was going through every spell they knew in their head trying to find some way to make it out of this. The casual sniffing of air turned to cautious approaches, which gave way to charging on hand and feet toward the front door. Muangata guessed there were at least thirty or forty ghouls running at them, and let out an involuntary scream before large, grey hands took hold of their shoulders. 

Isol stood behind Muangata, desperately trying to comfort them. After nearly 30 seconds of primal, panicked screaming, Muangata finally realized they were back in the Oaken Spirit. "You are safe, Muangata. You are home, and you are safe.", Isol kept repeating. 

 

After they had calmed down and gathered themselves, Muangata explained what they had seen to Vinra, Ohlan, and Isol. A look of understanding came over Isol's face. "So that's what this means.", he said, pointing to the mysterious writing on the staff. 

"Muangata does not understand. What does this say?" 

"Well, around the loop is the name Saeyn seems to have given this staff. Kaamos. However, on the cross, it seems she has written a message for you directly."

"A message for Muangata? How?"

"The how is yet a mystery, but it reads, 'May My Shadows Guide Your Light', here. She saw something in you, Muangata, and wants to help you see it as well, it would seem."

 

Muangata stayed in Pulchara for another week before finally saying their goodbyes to Vinra, Ohlan, and Isol. They walked with Kaamos down the westward road out of town. They weren't entirely sure where they wanted to go yet, but they knew it was time to go somewhere new.  Maybe they would go Voskia to see the underground labyrinth of the Minotaurs they had heard about. Or maybe they should go see the floating city of Haneul. They stopped to turn around and take in Pulchara one last time from a distance, and the Pulcharan Grove. Muangata thought this word was still an ill-fitting one to describe what they saw. "Muangata has seen grove, and Muangata has seen forest. This is forest."