Reina Featherfall.
***
It made me sad, knowing the Blighted Woods was no more.
That melancholia pulled at my heart as I fledged. So much that I felt as if a piece of soul remained on that cliff before I jumped. The winds, though cooled by the long night, singed tears from my eyes like the airs of roasted peppers rushing over my face.
Perhaps it was because it was the final link to my past, that my eyes remained on that grove. Now severed and replaced by a forest of silver like my former nest. The nest I destroyed.
Even if I were to return, there would be nothing to compare my memories to. No way to tell if the nightmare I lived through was real or some cruel dream. For others, at least. I would forever be tormented by my past. Despite the assumed paradise of the present or the hopes of the future. That would remain true until the end of time.
"To think you were chosen not by a Mother of Nature. But The Father of Evolution."
In truth, that was the reason my head remained craned back to stare at the groves until they disappeared behind the mountains of Rhar and then proceeded to turn my sights among the mountains I so fantasied about for years. Because the ghosts of my past remained behind me. Ghosts but not ghosts. Living or unliving vestiges with bodies solid and amorphous alike.
Ignoring them was easy, for the most part. For, even in the dark of the morning, I could see everything in endless shades of gray. Moreover, I could see the many cities and settlements as miniature suns scattered across a dozen different landscapes.
The least of them were to the southwest. Where a never-ending sprawl of gray lumps stretched to the coast. But that was no surprised based on what I've learned about the denizens of Rhar. Their neighbor's lands seemed much more dreary, though.
Even from as high as the mountains, the abrupt end of the lush forest could spotted easily. From the mountains to the southern coast, it seemed to be nothing more than walled cities and vast camps of wood and bone piled atop unceasing grasslands and ashed forests. More torches were seen waving across the hills than within the walls. Warbands. Always looking for a fight for reasons unknown.
The far side of the mountain held better sights. Just below, on the mountainside, I could see massive strips cut into the mountains like stairs made for a giant. Only these were filled with strange snow prints that suggested they be pastures instead. Whatever they were, I could imagine the amazing views that accompanied the end of their day and the songs and games they'd play as they waited for the sun to peer over the mountain and warm their homes.
Likewise, I imagined the residents of Ligin spent many hours a day looking up the mountains from their vast cities. Like castles built into towns, they were. Ever patrolled by the flying riders who protect the people against the mounted highlanders. But even that was tame in comparison to what was below.
The volcano that unceremoniously blew months ago still had a simmering caldera that warmed me and Percival up nicely as we flew overhead. But from then on it was only mountains. Mountains and strange carriages that lumbered across the ground at impressive paces. Or in some cases, flew faster than birds.
I spent a full day watching those land pass by, hardly realizing I never ate, drank water, slept, or even used the bathroom. I was enraptured, up until the point there was nothing new to see. So, with no more past to look at and a future blocked by my ghosts, I could only turn and face the present. A gaunt woman who once seemed young. Now, her skin was like tanned leather. Poorly tanned leather. Rotten in places like the throat and filled in, it seemed with golden embers, black stone, and violet bark.
"Them I understand." I gestured to the other two ghosts. Ghosts of darkness and endless shades of gray that somehow distinguished themselves into the hated forms of an elven man and a human woman with glowing green scars. "There is only one family in all the realms with this power. But what of you, Archdruid?"
She missed not the sneer in my voice. And yet, her snicker wasn't remotely tied to my disdain.
"All but my shell has been sent to the Underworld. My organs. My flesh and bone. My brain. All gone. The skin that remained was taken by the Father's hand and melded- engineered with the essence of nature. So when my soul was spat out of the Underworld." She spread her spindly arms to unfurl some type of moss that seemed eerily similar to feathers. "This is where it went. My body is of wood and stone. And flesh, Reina.
"Just. Like. Yours."
"W- what?" my eyes darted between my undead parents and the abject disgust on their faces. "How?" I asked, knowing- remembering the signs. The creaking when I stretched. The staff of crystallized flesh. The whispers.
"You are Patroned to the Elven Devil, Reina, to be-"
"The Flesh Mother," I murmured. Eliciting another snicker from the head druid and silent convulsions from my umbral parents. "My druid craft has been corrupted to manipulate… biomass. And I'm to use it to… change… life. And you…"
"Your Umbra Emperor." She nodded. "So you no longer have to call me Archdruid. You may name me as you please."
'Very well, Bitch.' I wanted to say. But simply waved the matter off. Yet, she persisted.
"So too have you been blessed."
I awaited an explanation but found nothing. Not even when I turned to face her. She only looked up to the Silver Eye, which had gotten so bright it decided to bleed a blue aura into the sky.
So many questions were birthed from that sight. Questions that could hardly be comprehended, much less articulated. And so, I watched.
For hours upon hours, I watched while Percival flew. He flew while I, Reina, watched the Silver Eye blink. Shedding a tear that seemed everlasting in the eyes of mortals. I watched and my hated companions observed the darkness spew a golden breath into the sky to match that silver-blue river with a speckled sea of ink.
I watched the mana around me rise and felt the mana within me condense until they both solidified in a crystalline web and imploded into the highest concentration of power made accessible to the spirits of mortals. I watched countless creatures change, evolve, and grow stronger and more intelligent, and then I yelped as Percival dipped inside that golden breath.
Then, I knew of duality.
I became aware of my powers of pestilence and purity. Of cyclic darkness and light. My curse and my blessing. The Flesh Mother's Druidic Sphere of Twilight. I could sense the abnormalities in my body. The divinely cursed wood in my bones that could be manipulated in the same way as a high-orc. The eyes and ears and nose of alien flesh that could sense far beyond the purview of an elf.
The voices of a million creatures asking philosophical questions for the first time. The thoughts of animals and plants long dead. The whispers of a thousand creatures emptying their lungs for a final time, only to breathe in fresh air once more.
I knew, somehow, that like me, the realm was Evolving. Yet, I could not witness its glory. For another glory demanded my presence.
A final lurch saw Percival dive with tremendous speed. So fast, we went, that the world went dark and the wind disappeared for a split second.
The light was far dimmer when we lifted from our dive. The air was much warmer, yet filled with an unmistakable cold that slithered through my nostrils to awaken the images I burned into my memory just over a day ago. Only, it was everything I could ever dream of.
It was like Redagh- the Blighted Woods, during those special times when the leaves turned orange and purple and black moss stretched across the hills. But unlike there, the sun sat on the horizon across from a vast court or castle of sorts, forever illuminating a pair of divine trees forever intertwined beneath a sea of stars.
A cosmic ocean, it was, with floating islands filled with countless people. So many people. Goblins, humans, orcs, gnomes, halflings, dwarves, dragonborne, vampires, undead, devils, and more; all accompanied by animals of all types. Creatures big and small. Natural and magical. Living and dead. Felines and rodents and owls. So many owls.
How they swarmed around me and Percival was amazing. How those people cheered as I approached was enlightening. Oh, how I wanted to meet them. To talk with them. Learn where they were from. Be told of why they were blessed. But instead, the cats and rats and minks and otters and owls- so many owls guided me closer to that massive structure of metal and stone.
It was there, before a massive cathedral, a cliffside nest, and some sort of lair; poised beneath a statue of the Owl, where I met my first drow. And my first several vampires. And others like me. A boy with a skeletal arm. A gaunt halfling girl. And others who were… brighter. Several young girls. A drow with golden eyes. A large woman and an even larger man who both seemed… bestial, like a few of the girls.
The animals that herded me here looked upon them just as intently as I did. Then they began moving differently. Behaving strangely. A few developed a noticeable spark in their eyes, the one seen in intelligent creatures. But I assumed it was a trick of the light until they crowded around the drow with strange eyes.
More changes came as he met their eyes and offered a pat on the head, a rub on the belly, a boop on the snoot. In all cases, they evolved. Some developed toxic hues. Others began leaking smoky trails of darkness from their hides or held eyes filled with death. A few were drenched in water or were sparking in lightning. And at least one. My owl, Percival, became wreathed in golden light.
He spun around to face me, that owl. With eyes like the starry fields above, he looked at me incredulously and turned back to the fiendish drow to scuttle forward.
"I suppose it's just rude to stand here," I muttered, leaping down from Percival's back to stand beneath the assembled party. "Hello. Everyone." I waved to each of them with my best smile. "My name is Reina Featherfall. The… Flesh Mother.
"I'm so excited to begin our adventures!"