Chapter 294: Family Reunions

Ewan watched with fascination as the former captives returned home - or, at least, to the new homes that had been made for them.

While their old home remained a burned-out husk, the new was anything but, though it was true that it was just as flammable. Ewan and the rest stood outside of a tower formed of a massive, hollowed-out tree. It didn’t make any sense that it had been grown and carved out in the short time since Ewan had looked over the area last, but he was beginning to think that nothing would truly ever make sense when it came to the strange little snake that had upended Erandur.

In a single day alone, he’d seen more impossibilities than most people saw in their entire lifetimes

He’d felt those impossibilities; they’d carved their way into his bones and reforged his flesh, turning him into something beyond normal humanity. Painful as it had been, Ewan didn’t regret it. He could still feel the power coursing through him, a comforting warmth that promised to return him from near any wound that he could suffer.

It was an easy trade.

The [Little Guardian’s Totem] warmed against his chest, a memento of the null-water baptism that they’d all undergone together. He found himself absentmindedly reaching for it, pulling it out and letting the wooden snake slither between his fingers. Its healing wasn’t quite as necessary as before; before, Ewan had been entirely dependent on it to recover from injury.

Now, the warmth spreading through his body promised that he could manage some of that load himself. It wasn’t quite the same as the power of the [Little Guardian’s Totem]. It was weaker, less focused - but it was there.

A mana-enhancement of his own, one that - despite being weaker than the triple-strength [Little Guardian’s Totem] - was significantly stronger than the only healing mana-enhancement that Ewan had ever heard of. That one replenished health and stamina through the slow devouring of one’s own self, requiring endless amounts of food and energy to power.

This one was something different entirely. What Ewan felt now was closer to another version of the [Little Guardian’s Totem] than the health-and-stamina enhancement that he’d heard of.

It was something new, just like everything else the Little Guardian had created and introduced to the people of Erandur.

Ewan turned towards Kel and Corinne, the latter of whom was practically clinging onto her recently freed grandchild. He had been one of the unfortunate captives that had been taken away in the final hour. Now, he was perfectly healthy and hale.

Safe, like everyone else - except for the men guarding the mines, Ewan supposed.

He had a hard time mourning them, though; he couldn’t forget the way they had immediately tried to murder such a vast number of people when approached. Restricted area or not, the aggressiveness had been beyond the pale. That of course, was only matched by the proof that there indeed were young children being held hostage deeper in the mines, used to keep the captive miners compliant and working.

The mines were not a happy place before, no - they were always a dangerous prison sentence. But there was a vast difference between being punished for a crime and threatened with the death or torture of children.

It had been enough to convince the other dozen members of Ewan’s tower that had accompanied them of the truth. Even they, the least invested of all that had entered the mines, refused to mourn the men who had died there.

Some things just couldn’t be forgiven.

Ewan turned towards them, taking in the way they stole glances at the scene around them - at the men and children that had been recovered from the mines, at families reunited and tearful, at treehomes that could spread the people of Erandur’s reach further and more safely than ever - and he knew that they had made their decision.

It was time for Ewan to return home and make good on the promises he’d made with Elara, for he and everyone else who had borne witness knew that she would be able to keep hers.

The Little Guardian would make sure of it.

It was a strange walk back. Ewan and his coterie travelled through trails that hadn’t existed even a month past, passing through plantlife that shifted out of their path with every new step. Occasionally, they would pass by another treehome tower; each looked similar to the last, formed from the same species of great tree that defied conventional sense and size. There were still differences, though, chief among them the individual treehome tower’s title carved in massive lines directly above the entrance.

The names themselves reflected the residents’ satisfaction with their new place in life - with their new sense of safety and prosperity. Newlife Tower. Grovehome Haven. Guardian’s Rest. It went on and on, each new tower a new celebratory naming.

Ewan hadn’t even realized there were enough people to fill so many treehome towers. Was the overpopulation in outlying towers so terrible, or was it simply that the treehome towers were so tempting?

The thoughts followed him all the way home and, from the looks on the faces of those who came with him, it followed them as well.

The White Towers rose before them, but the shining mana-metal and pale-white marble no longer felt so impressive.

“It feels empty, in a way,” Kel remarked beside him, echoing Ewan’s thoughts. “Lifeless.”

Ewan found himself nodding.

“It does.”

The words surprised him, even as they didn’t. The White Towers still stretched impossibly high, reaching for the cavern’s ceiling like the marble fingers of a giant. Their bridges still stretched gracefully as ever, connecting the two towers that made up his home. Its mana-metal, too, was just as striking as ever, the power of wind captured within and ready to be deployed for offense or defense against any monster that came near.

It was magnificent; a monument to Erandur’s labor and ingenuity.

Or, at least, to this small chunk of it.

So, so small.

Ewan turned back to look at the place that he’d come from - one that, despite being so new, served so many more with its existence.

The distance wasn’t even that great. Less than ten minutes’ walk through the empty no-man’s land away. The Little Guardian’s Groveways connected the spaces between nearly all of the outlying towers by now, enough that its lack of connection to the towers - the White Towers among them - at Erandur’s center was blindly apparent. From where he stood, he could easily make out the tops of the great treehome towers, their multicolored crowns rising high above the lower growth.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

As he watched, a flock of flying monsters suddenly swooped in from somewhere on the cavern ceiling, aimed directly at one of those same crowns - the treehome tower rustled, moving in a way that no plant rightly ever should, and slapped them down in droves. Ewan doubted the people living inside of it even had to lift a finger in defense.

It was the same dream that had seen the xenlite mines’ production sold to Virtun in exchange for a Wind Core. Protection. Safety. Prosperity.

Yet, somehow, entirely better in every sense of the word.

Ewan really needed to hold up his end of the bargain he’d made with Elara. The White Towers had their own kind of magnificence, but there was still room to grow.

He took one final glance back at the Groveways and treehome towers behind him, and then another step towards home.

It didn’t take long for word to spread; the people that had visited the mines with Ewan were eager to pass word of what they’d found - both within the mines and without.

It helped even more that they drew attention. While it was difficult to see in brighter spaces, the mana-enhancement that they had gained gave their veins a distinct magical glow. It was enough to make them interesting even to those who’d previously dismissed them.

Including the council.

Ewan was surprised at how quickly a proper meeting could be scheduled when a couple dozen citizens returned from elsewhere with a righteous fury burning in their chests.

Though he supposed he wasn’t actually surprised, given that they’d also come back with a kind of pseudo-immortality. It was hard to ignore someone like that - hard not to take whatever they said seriously.

Though there was one person who seemed immune to the kind of implied threat that their new enhancements held. He supposed it was the same anywhere. No matter how far a man came, his father would always see him as the boy he had been.

“...a dire problem, Ewan,” his father was in the midst of saying, a stern look in his eyes. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of our obligations to the good people of Virtun.”

The two of them were in their family quarters, a large dining table formed from the finest darkwood spanning the distance between them. Its edges were carved with uncountable images, some so fine that Ewan could only make them out if he pressed himself against the wooden surface. There was a veritable feast resting upon it, far too much for two people to eat.

Neither Ewan nor his father were doing any eating; the heavyset plates, filled with enough to feed two entire families, were left to cool. Ewan would have felt more guilty about that if there weren’t more important matters at hand.

“I don’t want any part in those obligations,” he spat, “if it leads to that. I was there. I saw it all. I heard it all. There were children kept hostage in those fucking mines.”

“It’s not as if anyone on the council would have signed off on that, and I’m quite sure perpetrators were dealt with accordingly. They were, were they not?”

“I think we both know that at least one council member, if not more, would have known what was going on. I certainly hope you weren’t one of them.”

“It’s not really my purview,” his father waved him off. “As the Treasurer, I handle general finances. Numbers, not people. Still, I can’t say that I disagree with the motivations behind it all. We need that xenlite, son.”

Ewan didn’t immediately respond, too distracted by the burning anger lodged in his chest and the grinding in his teeth.

“You…agree with it?” he finally forced out.

“I agree with the desire to ensure that the mines are operating at a high enough capacity that our obligations are fulfilled.”

“By threatening children?”

“I said I didn’t disagree with the motivations. I understand the desire. I appreciate the necessity, distasteful as it is. There’s much about our agreement with the people of Virtun that isn’t common knowledge. What is public knowledge is that, in exchange for a lease on the Wind Core that allows us to defend ourselves, we provide tribute. Xenlite. What isn’t public knowledge is that, when the initial agreement was struck, there were actually two offers on the table. We took the carrot, but the stick still remains. I refuse to be someone who allows that stick to be broken over our backs. I imagine that whoever signed off on this whole mess, assuming that anyone did, feels the same.”

Ewan stood up from his seat, nearly ready to leave and abandon the conversation entirely. There was little to be gained from a discussion with his father, apparently. “You’re saying,” he said, “that if children and innocent people had to suffer…then so be it?”

“Sit back down, son. I’m just saying that sometimes it’s best to simply choose which tragedies are survivable.”

“Those people were essentially enslav—”

“I do not celebrate what happened, if it all truly happened as you say it did. I am simply saying that there are no options available that do not cause great harm - and some of them are greater than others. Virtun will have its xenlite. if it does not, then we will all suffer. Not just a few of us. There really is no choice. We might as well profit from the transaction.”

“Greed or cowardice, what does it matter when the choice is only being made for others? I don’t see you down in the mines, swinging a pickaxe and hoping that a spray of null-water doesn’t maim you,” Ewan challenged.

“I have other concerns; besides, there is a reason we have always used criminals for that purpose in the past. It’s better for those who have already proven themselves a detriment to society to make that sacrifice than those who have not.”

“Because none of those people were ever innocent of their supposed crimes?”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Again, people are not my purview. Justice is not my purview. I simply keep our finances running. I can only trust that those whose job it is to handle such things do it well.”

“I’m sure that makes it easier to sleep at night.”

“It does,” he pointed out. “It’s good for the health. What’s not good for the health, as I’ve already told you, is failing to fulfill our obligations.”

“Obligations that we no longer need to ful—“

“Oh, because you and your compatriots will simply ignore the stick? This strange healing mana-enhancement you’ve all somehow received may be strong, but so are the warriors of Virtun. The Wind Core that has brought us so much security and prosperity means next to nothing to them. It is just one of a great many. There is no suffering the stick, only accepting—“

The door opened before his father could finish his tirade, a servant stepping through with an apologetic look.

“I apologize sir, but I have urgent news. It appears that the Virtun delegation’s manacrawler has been spotted approaching the outskirts of Erandur. Councilhead Frear has called for an emergency meeting in preparation for their imminent arrival.”

His father nodded, dismissing the servant with a wave. He stood, his untouched meal left on the table, and straightened his clothes.

“We can talk about this later, if there is one,” he said darkly. “It seems that I must join the discussion on how best to avoid the stick before it’s too late. I highly doubt that these strange plants that have popped up in the outskirts recently will slow their approach for more than a short while.”

He swept out of the room before Ewan could formulate a response. Ewan stared at his cooling food, unsure what to do now. It seemed that, while his father might not have been directly responsible for the way of things that were being done within the mines, he didn’t particularly disapprove of them either.

It was a hard pill to swallow, even if Ewan had already suspected that might be the case - and prepared himself for worse than that, even.

Even more, there wouldn’t be any time to do the things that he’d wanted to do; no time to discover who on the council was responsible for the atrocities being committed in the mines, no time to have a trial and bring them to justice, no time to bring his home under the full protection of the Little Guardian and his Groveways before the delegation from Virtun arrived to ruin it all.

He walked out of the room, determined to at least finish the one thing he did have time for. Ewan, despite it all, was still the Treasurer’s son. It would only take a few minutes of careful convincing for him to reach the place where the Wind Core was held.

Ewan could only hope that, once he held up his end of the bargain, the Little Guardian would be able to solve everything.