The Ten Guardians: The Mother Tree©

Chapter Twenty

              The surgery to restore Myrum took almost an hour, with Myrum unconscious the entire time. It was early morning still, but the sun had yet to begin its ascent. It didn’t matter because Izreea worked with her eyes closed, using the scythes to project Myrum’s body into her mind. Izreea didn’t trust the scythes to make the appropriate repairs without guidance and took the time to move every misplaced part of her knee, inspecting everything as she made the repairs. When she finished the leg, she cleared the lungs and made minor repairs to her crushed throat. She did a general healing over her body to clear small things like the burst blood vessels in her eyes and the acid burn in her mouth and throat.

              As she had been making Myrum whole inside, Grey and Jaya helped clean the vomit out of her fur and change and launder her clothing. When Izreea was finished, she made sure Myrum stayed asleep and asked Lone Wolf to move her to her bedroll to rest. Then she put her scythes away and sat on a log around the fire. The sun was beginning to peak over the horizon, hallowing Izreea slightly while the firelight cast shadows on her face. There was an aura of authority over her as she silently waited for Jaya to sit near the fire and explain herself. Her commanding presence made it clear Jaya wouldn’t get out of this conversation.

As Jaya sat across from Izreea, her stomach barely registering her pregnancy, she realized that their roles had been reversed. It was she that used to be the matriarchal leader and guide to their party. Her loss of Colson had dramatically impacted her, more than she had been willing to admit. She needed guidance now, and the one person she had wholly relied on for such guidance was no longer there. She was finally allowing herself to mourn properly without the aloof bluffing and condescending comments.

“Would you rather this be a private conversation?” Izreea asked with an authoritarian tone of voice. It was clear that Izreea was sitting in judgment over Jaya, roles neither of them had ever expected to be in.

Jaya shook her head as she responded in a defeated tone of voice. “This will impact everyone’s interaction with Myrum, so everyone should be involved. I do not deserve the privacy you offer. Let what will happen … happen.”

Most of the party took their seats on the various logs and mounds around them. Stein was still in the same position she had been when she entered her trance, about five paces from the fire. Her eyes glowed brightly, though, indicating she knew what was happening. She did not move to join them. Lone Wolf was squatting by Myrum, stroking the fur on the side of her face. Jaya knew he could hear her no matter how softly she spoke. Drock was still seated near the fire, staring emptily into its depths.

As Jaya spoke, her voice sounded resigned to the depressing knowledge that she had almost killed her granddaughter with her bare hands. The last family she had. She loved her, and causing her this much harm broke Jaya a little more.

“First of all, you should know we are not under threat, so you can remove the barriers around the camp and put your weapons away. I’ll briefly explain how Myrum was injured tonight … and then explain what Izreea referenced before healing Myrum.”

No one reacted or moved to do as she requested, and she recognized that she was no longer trusted in their eyes. At least not in the sense of blind obedience. She sighed softly to herself but ignored the inaction as she continued talking about what had happened to Myrum.

“Someone was watching the camp, and the ward stones made me aware of their presence. Myrum and I have traveled together all her life, so we used signals to communicate and identify the observer’s location. It ran, we pursued, and I made a mistake. Instead of sticking to our usual attack plan, I diverted from the strategy until the presence took flight and was gone. It was the shapeshifting creature that served the she-warlock, but I do not know what it wanted.

“Myrum didn’t hear the creature fly off, and I was standing where it had last been on the ground. She mistook me for our quarry and attacked with the intent of subduing whoever she was attacking. Our strategy was whoever found the target first would attack loudly and aggressively to draw their attention. Then whoever reached the fight later could surprise the distracted target and quickly overcome them.”

“I was angry. Angry that Sparrow had called out my age and frailty. Angry about Colson. Angry about losing control of my emotions in front of people and acting like a pup. I wanted to prove to myself that I was healthy and strong still, that I was still a force to be reckoned with. In the adrenaline and arrogance of the moment, I fought much harder than I should have, blindingly attacking Myrum without recognizing her. I overpowered her and caused the damage Izreea just repaired …” Jaya’s hands went to her face as she became emotional “… in seconds. Then her scent broke through my bloodlust, and I realized what had happened.”

“I picked her up and ran back here, and you know the rest of that story,” she finished while wiping tears from her eyes.

There was a long pause while the information was processed, broken by Jonathan. “Why didn’t you try to heal her yourself?”

It was Izreea who answered. “Do you remember your ‘healing’ of Jareth when we first fought the woman warlock and her shapeshifting beast? Where you almost killed him, and I had to undo what you had done and reset his ribs around his lungs? In Jaya’s panicked state and Myrum’s shout alerting the camp that something was wrong, her healing would have been rushed and imperfect. Myrum would have needed reconstructive repair, and usually, repairing something twice causes defects. It isn’t a huge issue on ribs …” she paused and gave Jareth an apologetic glance, “… but it is vital for appendages to function properly.”

Izreea waved the conversation aside, turned back to Jaya, and firmly asked, “What about the glyph on her heart?”

There was a commotion among the party members, some whispers and sounds of surprise as no one but Izreea knew about the glyph. A sweeping glare from Izreea silenced them. When silence was again achieved, Izreea looked at Jaya expectantly. It took some time for Jaya to respond. She had hidden this secret for so long that it had become a part of her. She felt it was necessary to explain everything in detail but didn’t know where to begin. She knew she had to respond, though, so she haltingly began.

“I … I guess the best place to start … is with the death of my daughter, Latale, Myrum’s mother. Magic is strong in our family’s bloodline, especially in the females. Latale was strong in magic, strong enough to be a seeker. Being a seeker is a proud tradition in our family and a great sacrifice for our people, but it has its risks. You have to be strong enough in magic to make it worth the effort. If you can’t fight revenants and lich alone, then there is no reason to attempt the ceremony. Latale was strong enough and decided to follow my path.

“No one in our bloodline had ever died from the ceremony, not in hundreds of years … so the risk didn’t feel real. Her death was such a surprise that it tore our family apart. Myrum’s biological father, who I will not name, was devastated. He blamed me for her wanting to be a seeker and for her death. He eventually came to believe that since seekers become lich if they die with souls within them, and lich raise the revenants, we should stop making seekers entirely.”

“He has a point,” Jonathan said softly, interrupting a second time, which was rewarded by a hiss and an elbow to the stomach from Grey.

“His argument had some merit,” Jaya said, acknowledging Jonathan’s interruption without reacting. “The issue does feel circular. However, where does that leave the souls trapped in revenant bodies? Do they not deserve redemption and peace? And what of the innocent they kill when they roam? I felt seekers did more good to the world than harm. And Latale had made her choice and knew the full risks.”

“Sides were chosen, and a great counsel was arraigned to discuss the matter. I won’t bore you with the details, but the arguments were heated and lasted a full moon cycle. Eventually, Myrum’s father used an ancient tradition to change the discussion. I think he just wanted an excuse to end the charade he started and then run away and not have to face the reality of his broken family.”

She sighed deeply as she remembered the sadness on his face “he looked so tired from it all … I don’t blame him for wanting to run away.”

“What was the tradition?” Izreea asked firmly. Jaya hesitated, her eyes hardening slightly, so Izreea continued saying, “If it is at all an influence in your decision to do whatever you did to Myrum’s heart, then speak.”

Jaya sighed, realizing Izreea was right. Everything about this story was connected to what she had done to Myrum. Everything had influenced her decision, especially what had happened next. After a pause, she nodded that she understood and leaned on her staff that someone had brought to her; she did not know who.

“There is a very old law among our people, old enough that it may have been taught to us by dardwain during the great civil war. It’s called the Law of Unequal Victims.” Izreea nodded slightly as if it sounded familiar but didn’t interrupt. “It is a little complicated, but the law’s core is that the two people arguing both win their side of the argument. They are both declared correct, which in this situation leads to creating seekers being lawful and unlawful simultaneously. Obviously, this is contradictory and does not solve the problem. However, the law has a cascade of addendums for various situations. One such addendum declares that whoever can prove they were wounded the most from the origin of the argument is declared preferable, and their original argument stands.”

This time it was Jareth who interrupted. “So, the loophole is that you no longer have to prove that your argument is right or wrong. You only have to prove that the source of your claim was harder to bear than the counter-claimant. Is that the core of it?”

“Yes,” Jaya said, glad someone else had picked up on the nuance of the situation and explained it before Jonathan interrupted again. “The debate was no longer about seekers and the practice of harvesting souls with the risk of becoming a lich. The debate was if Latale’s death was more hurtful to her mate or her mother. I was forced to share my feelings on the matter.”

She had tears in her eyes, and her voice quivered, but her words were clear. “I had to share my sorrow, grief, and crushing, shocking, vulnerable, horrible, emotional loss with dozens of elders among our people in the form of competition for pity. My words were audibly recorded and sent to our entire nation because changing the law of creating seekers would have impacted our entire species. My privacy was violated in every way as I was forced to share my emotions. But I did it. I let go of all of my pride and did it.

“My son by marriage then shared his loss, and his loss was indeed as strong as my own. He was angrier than I was, which no one blamed him for because everyone grieves differently. It had been a month since Latale’s death, and I had been caring for Myrum, who was just a young pup. I had no room for anger in my heart, just crushing loss and sadness.”

Her voice firmed as she shook off the emotional memories and continued her story. “The debate was still strong, and it was clear this could continue for quite some time. Then they decided to call Myrum to the council to tell of her loss. They wanted to use her words, entrap her into basically choosing a side. Her fathers or her grandmothers. That was how they planned to end the standoff; she was only four years old.

“Her father thought this was his chance to win the argument, using his daughter to prove that he had lost more because he would soon be raising a child without their mother. Matriarchy is very important in our society, and this was a calculated argument. I refused to allow her to be dragged through that traumatizing experience at such a young age. I stood in her place and told them as much. I relented and gave him the victory to save Myrum from that horrible fate. To hell with the tradition if the cost was my granddaughter’s mental stability and future.

“To my surprise, my sacrifice of the argument to protect my grandchild was what tipped the scale in my favor. Three-Fifths of the council sided with me, and the tradition of seekers was kept. In his shame, Myrum’s father stated he had to reclaim his honor and left without saying a word to either of us. That was the last time I saw him. The only thing he took with him was Latale’s staff, which I had made her, and a water flask Myrum had made him in school.

“Myrum was already grieving the true loss of her mother and now was facing betrayal and abandonment from her father. Her pain was so deep and so complete. I could not bear the thought of her losing another parental figure in her life.”

“But where was Colson during all of this?” Izreea asked, aware that Myrum had viewed Colson as a father figure.

“Colson was an adult by then and was living in Jersel. He was in a branch of their military. The last time he had visited, Myrum was two. When his contract ended with their military, he came home to visit our family shortly after the trial and found out what had happened. Latale was like his sister, so he decided to stay and raise Myrum. Initially, I had reservations, but he proved to be an amazing father and son. I had no idea he would step into that role when I placed the glyph on Myrum’s heart.”

“So, between Myrum’s father leaving and Colson returning, when you felt your grief and loss the most, you placed the glyph,” Izreea stated, no question in her voice.

“Yes, but you have to understand,” Jaya was crying openly now. “Myrum was broken from this. She would wake sobbing in my arms every night with nightmares of her loss. She clung to me as if I was her last anchor in life. She had no one else then, and I could not stand the thought of her being orphaned if I fell to some revenant and became a lich. She needed to be protected from feeling this sense of loss again!”

Izreea ignored her tears and excuses and redirected her by firmly asking, “What does the glyph do, Jaya?”

Jaya stopped crying but continued looking depressed as she remembered what had happened.

“I connected our souls. I only meant it to be our bodies, as my original goal was if I died, she would die along with me. That way, she would never have to bear the burden of losing a family member because I was the last family she had. I justified it because I was a seeker, so I would most likely live longer than her anyway. However, there were side effects I was not aware of.”

Jaya paused, but Izreea made no move to hurry her, trusting that she would continue in a moment.

“The first side effect I noticed was slowed aging. Somehow my slowed aging process spread to Myrum. She is much older than she appears, although I have kept some of that from her by being unclear on exactly when she was born. She isn’t dim-witted, though. I suspect she is aware of her slowed aging, although she may think it is an accidental side effect of being around me so much. She will live longer than any other kanidian, including many seekers, and we will be together. I did not feel like this was a negative thing.

“The second side effect, which told me it was our souls that were linked, not just our bodies, is her magical strength somehow passed on to me through the glyph. I cannot explain how because I do not know how. All I know is that her magical abilities reside in me, and it is as if she has no abilities. This is a contributing factor to how I became our nation’s Mother Seeker. I was stronger than all the other applicants because of Myrum’s power residing in me.

“Any other … unexpected side effects?” Grey asked with unrestrained contempt.

Considering what she had lived through with Biggs, her negative perception was understandable. He was a parasite, and it was an apt comparison in her mind.

Although her question was intended to offend, Jaya felt the bitterness of the words and took them to heart instead of becoming defensive. She heard the excuses she was making to convince herself that this was a righteous decision. She knew it was all a farce. She preserved Myrum to protect herself from loss, not the other way around. The hardest part was admitting all of this to Myrum.

“I don’t know what will happen if you remove the glyph. I created it in my grief, and even I don’t know exactly how I created it or how to dismantle it. I have thought on it for decades. It could kill her outright if you remove it since her heart grew from child to adult with the glyph upon it. It could kill me and make her catch up to proper age, which would be problematic considering I have hundreds of souls within me at the moment. I also have no idea if I would retain her magical abilities or if they would return to her, and we would suddenly have to deal with an unstable and untrained kanidian magi.”

“I just don’t know,” she said with finality as she hit the ground with her staff. It was apparent that she was done talking about the topic.

There was silence for quite some time as everyone processed the information. No one had forgotten that this was a form of trial. After some time, Izreea finally spoke.

“Jaya … you know as well as I that glyphs fade with time, usually set by the creator of the glyph, with certain limitations. Otherwise, Lone Wolf and Jareth would still have their mortality linked from the event at the portal, but the glyph has faded away. I know it isn’t the same as Myrum’s glyph is significantly more complex and mysterious, but it still should have faded on its own. Is it possible that you are somehow renewing the glyph on her heart?”

A soft growl escaped Jaya’s throat before she caught herself. Izreea made no reaction to the growl. Jaya nodded that she understood that Izreea had to ask the question, but she still sounded offended as she responded.

“My intention with the glyph, as wrong and misguided as it may have been, was to spare a child the harm of losing all of her loved ones. Or to spare me the pain of her death is a more accurate description. I created it with the intention of it lasting until Myrum reached adulthood, but obviously, it is still there. I do not know why, but I’m not renewing it, at least not intentionally.”

Jonathan was fidgeting like a child in his attempt to restrain himself from interrupting, but his large personality overcame his restraint.

“I know I shouldn’t interrupt …” he said quickly with one hand held out to Izreea and Jaya, asking for patience. His other hand tried to stop Grey from shooting tiny lightning bolts into his side, “…but I’m a researcher at Dule Van. Owe! Stop for a minute.” He waved Grey’s arm away, and she relented with an eye roll. “I’ve done a few experiments on glyphs with the familiar. In fact, it is highly possible that swapping bodies with the familiar was at least partially because of an experiment with glyphs.”

He paused and mentally withdrew for a moment as he remembered being trapped in the body of a tiny bird. The memories were traumatic for him, but people were waiting for him to continue speaking, so he plowed ahead.

“To the point; it is possible that the glyph was never closed properly. When we cast a spell like the fire in the center of the camp, we close the spell with a seal, right? The stronger the seal, the longer the spell will-” He noticed Izreea’s deadpan expression and his brother rolling a finger in a circle, telling him to get to the point. “Right, right, you all know this already. When we close off a glyph, we call it a seal, but in reality, glyphs don’t have seals. At least not like spells do. Glyphs are stacked, written spells that include laws and rules. Its completion is what makes it work, but the wrong closing can change the meaning of the magical sentence.”

“So, you’re saying there was no punctuation, like a period at the end of a sentence, to close the glyph?” Izreea asked, not quite understanding his point.

Jonathan wasn’t a personable educator like his brother, and his exasperation was evident in his tone, but he was too focused on the information to pay attention. “No. The punctuation is just a metaphor, but I don’t know how to explain it any other way. Fine, let’s use simple grammatical terms. Say a simple glyph is closed with a period to open a door when someone steps on it. Basic purpose. An exclamation point would be like what Jareth did to Lone Wolf when they first met. More complicated purposes. So, for Myrum, it would be like the sentence was ended with a comma. Although there is a pause in the sentence, more should have followed after the comma, leaving the glyph open … or exposed would be a better word.”

“You’re suggesting that the glyph is feeding off my magical abilities, like a festering wound?” Jaya said with what could have been construed as guilt in her voice, but it was hard to tell.

Jonathan’s previous irritation was gone, replaced by endearing excitement that someone understood what he was trying to say. “Yes! Well, close to that. It makes more sense that the arcane power the glyph is feeding off of is coming from Myrum as the energy transfers to you rather than from her, to you, and back to the glyph.”

Sparrow joined the conversation saying, “That means Myrum might be even stronger than you realized, magically, but the glyph is taxing the arcane power before it is transferred to you.”

“There’s no way to know for sure until the glyph is removed,” Jonathan concluded.

Jaya snorted at the obvious statement but had to admit Jonathan’s input overall was very helpful. She nodded her thanks to him. She would have smiled, but humans often misunderstood kanidian smiles for some reason, so she kept it to a nod.

Stein had been silent this entire time, but the earth trembled slightly as she stepped forward, the first time she had moved since she had gone into her trance. She quickly regained control of her construct, and her walking became as smooth as before. She reached the fire and spoke to the group, although she directed her voice to Jaya. Her lips only started moving to match her words halfway through her comments.

“You keep speaking of removing the glyph, but would it not be easier to simply correct the issue and remove the arcane leeching? This would allow its energy drain to cease, and then the fading process will begin. Rather than fourteen years, I can weaken its closing to any length you desire. The glyph could be gone in as little as weeks, giving you time to prepare your grandchild for her new abilities. I can do it now if you wish?” she finished as she stretched a hand out in offering towards Myrum’s sleeping form.

Jaya rose quickly to her feet, her staff slamming against the ground sending a small wave of energy outward. The energy wasn’t enough to harm anyone but it quickly drew everyone’s attention.

“It is my mistake to undo! You will not touch her!” Jaya shouted as she began lifting off of the ground, her transformation into a lich beginning to happen before their eyes. The air darkened around her, her eyes turned purple, and her fur began to change.

“Grandmother!” Myrum shouted as she grabbed Jaya’s arm.

Jaya instinctively began to swing her staff backward towards whoever was grabbing her arm from behind, but Myrum’s voice calling her family title broke through her reaction, and Jaya was able to stop the blow. Seeing Myrum on her feet, whole, calling to her, broke through Jaya’s walls, and her transformation immediately ceased. She hit the ground hard, threw her staff aside, and wrapped her arms around Myrum.

“I’m so sorry, child!” She managed to get out through her sobs as Myrum hugged her back just as fiercely.

After a few tender moments between grandmother and granddaughter, they pushed to arm’s length, and Myrum spoke to her. She spoke loudly enough that everyone could hear her.

“Lone Wolf woke me as soon as you all started talking. I heard everything. I have known for some time that something was connecting us. Occasionally you would travel without me, sometimes quite far, and I would begin to feel the energy around me. Colson would move water, and I could just barely feel its movement, even with my eyes closed. The sensations always went away when I was around you.

“And as far as the slowed aging, I have traveled with you, Colson, or both of you all of my life. I wasn’t an expert on human aging, and Colson was a mage, so he aged slower anyways. Yet one day, we visited a kanidian grove because you had to report to a council of Elders, and I went into a shop on my own for supplies. A childhood friend of mine was running the shop, and she introduced me to her grandchild!” Myrum chuckled a little at the memory before continuing, “It was very apparent that I still looked like I was in my prime of youth, but she didn’t say anything. She probably assumed I was like you, that magic had slowed my aging process.

“I still remember the silence afterward when I left the shop. The world had lost all sound as things clicked into place for me that day. I thought of asking you about it, but I thought I would have been the same age as my friend in that shop without whatever intervention you had done. I decided to consider myself lucky and not ask questions.”

“It was still wrong to keep it from you and to do that without your permission,” Jaya said while wiping a tear from her face, not wanting to hide behind Myrum’s forgiving tone.

“Of course, it was wrong!” Myrum said with a raised but not unkind voice. “But grief makes people … not themselves sometimes. I well remember losing Mother and how much her loss crippled me. You were all I had, and I understand your mindset. I might not have known the specifics, but love was your motivation. I have never doubted your love for me.”

Jaya touched the side of Myrum’s face with an unsettling kanidian smile on her tear-stained face.

“You are as wise as your mother, and it is high time you made your own choices concerning your life and abilities. I will undo my mistake.”

Myrum’s face looked panicked as she shouted, “No! You can’t do that!” Myrum grabbed her hands and spoke quickly, “If you remove the glyph, you could die on the spot and turn into a true lich! I will not allow that! And even if you survive the process, you’ll no longer have my abilities to strengthen and keep you alive. We are not removing this glyph!”

Jaya let Myrums arms go and pulled her staff into her open hand from the ground to lean on it. She gave Myrum a comforting look and spoke in a reminiscent tone.

“Do you remember what you told me about meeting the Guardian of Life? How she gifted you an audience with your mother? Remember what Latale said to you?”

It was clear that Jaya was simply asking Myrum to silently remember the moment and words spoken before making a point. Yet Myrum looked her in the eyes and responded with a shaky voice.

“She said the only things that go with us into the next life are our memories and relationships. Vulnerability isn’t a weakness. I need to allow others into my life before it is too late, so I can make relationships that will last through death. She said not to be ashamed of the pain of sorrow. Everyone’s grief is unique, and our sorrow at losing someone just means we loved them dearly. She said not to lose heart because we would see each other again someday. Then she told me she loved me and was proud of who you had raised me to be. Then the last thing she said was to seek Colson when all hope is lost.”

Jaya nodded in agreement with the words of her daughter. “So death isn’t the end, my child, and you deserve the chance to live your life without the harness of my mortality weighing you down. Now I agree the risk of me becoming a lich is unacceptable. Not because of me, as I know this group is more than capable of handling a single lich, but the souls within me would be freed to become revenants again. As soon as the souls within me are placed inside the well, the glyph must be removed so you can live the life you deserve. When I die, when the glyph is removed, or soon after, you can live on knowing I will see you again.”

“Now …” Jaya said firmly, taking Myrum’s hand and turning to face Izreea, “… Do you agree with the course of action to rectify my crime against my grandchild?”

Her voice was sincere, requesting Izreea’s opinion on the outcome and desiring judgment that she knew she deserved.

In response, Izreea smiled broadly and said, “Yes, and more. I have also lost someone dear to me, a wound I thought I could never overcome. Your words, both yours and Latale’s, remind me of the comfort the Guardian of Life gave me on the subject. You are all correct. Life after death allows grief and sorrow to transform into memories of love and peace. The grief and sorrow are still there and always will be, but now there is hope on the other side of your pain. Now hug me, both of you and then let’s get back to the problem of reaching Dule Van without killing the current love of my life in the process.”

Izreea embraced the taller kanidians one at a time as the party chuckled slightly at Jareth’s awkward smile. By now, the sun was fully illuminating the campsite, and the group started preparing breakfast and breaking the campsite down. It was Jonathan who realized they were acting in motion, assuming a plan of action had been made by Sparrow and Lone Wolf, but no one had confirmed it.

He suddenly burst out. “Wait, do we have a plan? Should we be breaking camp already?”

“Yes, little bird, we have a plan,” Lone Wolf replied dryly.

There was stunned silence in the camp, and everyone stared at Lone Wolf in surprise, unsure how to react. No one knew if it was an insult, a joke, or a mix of both. Lone Wolf recognized that he must have made a mistake as he awkwardly said, “Forgive me, I am still working on my humor. Was it too soon … for such comments?”

Jonathan’s face turned so awkward that Jaya couldn’t help herself and roared with laughter! Several others joined in as Sparrow smiled at Stein, who looked unamused.

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