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The other members of the army had already returned to the camp for the day, choosing to let it sound out around a fire and with a drink in their hands. While they had made some progress today, they weren’t sure how long it would last, as their foe was as ruthless as they were determined. Although they were unlike any other enemy the soldiers had faced.
Vines and roots were sneaking their tendrils along every path, encasing the huts and covering the village in a silent, green mantle. They were much bigger than ordinary vines found in forests, easily exceeding the diameter of Korhys’ own thigh. If one might have seen it from a distance, they would have a hard time making out the once proud village among all these plants. But the roots had worked hard and fast to eradicate all signs of human touch from their chosen spot.
Behind the rows of houses towards the south, the forest began. The very forest which had swallowed up so many of the villagers to be reclaimed by the mother. They weren’t sure what had urged them to wander into it after so many of their own had already been declared lost, but one by one they went. And if the King or his generals suspected a reason for the mother tree’s anger, then they hadn’t shared it with simple soldiers like Korhys.
They weren’t sure if this uncertain fate was better or worse than what had happened to the people the roots had taken in the village. Several had gone to sleep to never wake up, having been suffocated during the night by one of the omnipresent vines, leaving their relatives to find the tendril-covered bodies in the morning. The very unlucky ones had been wrapped so tightly that the family had found themselves unable to remove the body; forcing the remaining ones to live somewhere else. At least, until they were gone as well.
Providing them with a proper burial had been one of the army’s first tasks after their arrival in the village. Naturally, after hacking themselves some makeshift pathway, they had only found the decaying corpses. Although the sickly sweet scent penetrating most houses had already hinted towards something sinister waiting for the soldiers.
At first, they had tried fire. But the roots were so vital and full of liquids that it would just fizzle out. So His Majesty had ordered them to do it by hand. This was why day after day, the royal army spent their manpower hacking away at plants and blunting their swords. Not that they were very successful in their venture.
All the process they made during the day was swiftly reclaimed by the roots overnight. It was a pointless endeavor, and with a more lenient commander, the protests would have racked up by now. But the iron fist with which the King ruled was well known, and since he was personally invested in this, they weren’t left with many choices. So destroying plants it was.
One by one the huts had been squashed by the weight of the veins, and since the army wasn’t necessarily interested in rebuilding them, soon nothing would be left of the once prospering village.
Korhys’ gaze fell upon a scarecrow, who despite everything, was still standing guard at the edge of what might have been once a field. Although now there were not any villagers left to tend to it. Its clothes looked worn, but the straw seemed fairly new.
They wondered how long it had stood there. Had it witnessed the very first missing farmer? Heard the sobs from their children? Had it watched the roots crawling closer, claiming inch by inch of the ground for the Mother? Had it seen the first hut collapsing, men giving way to nature? How many stories could it tell?
They sighed. They were getting ridiculous. Maybe they should follow the others and laugh off the stress from a day of hard work.
But while their fellow soldiers might be content with disregarding the futility of their task, Korhys couldn’t ignore it any longer. If they spent countless hours playing violent gardeners, they’d like to at least know the reason why. Perhaps now, with everyone gone, they had a chance for a small investigation. They had ventured out of the already cleared parts, carefully making their way southwards.
It was then that they heard it. At first, Korhys wasn’t sure if it hadn’t been the wind. But no, it persisted, sounding sweeter than anything the harsh mother nature could ever hope to concoct.
They cocked their head. No, this was a melody. Had one of their brothers-in-arms returned to fetch them? But even after a few moments, they had a hard time thinking of anybody in their cohort who was even remotely musically gifted.
Was this it? The lure the tree had thrown out, hoping for people to follow its false lullaby? Yet again, why would it come from the village itself, not the forest? Something wasn’t adding up.
Throwing one last glance at the straw puppet, Korhys settled on following the melody.
The closer they got, the surer they were that the sound was a hum and one created by somebody young at that. Somebody way too young to still be in those ruins by themselves.
They walked faster. Had they finally gone mad? Why in wonder's will would a child still be in the village? Why had they not long since fled someplace safe?
It seemed loudest outside of a small hut at the southeastern edge of the village. The undergrowth was thick around here, so Korhys had to make liberal use of their sword to reach the entrance. They hesitated for a moment, yet the humming remained. If their senses weren’t deceiving them, this might be the melody of a lullaby. But their childhood days had long since escaped the soldier and with them, the details of these fonder memories.
Slowly, they opened the door and entered. Immediately, the noise stopped and Korhys heard a sharp intake. It was a small room; kitchen, living room and bedroom in one, like it was customary in a village so far out from the capital. On the side was what must have been the sleeping corner, judging by the writhing green mass covering what seemingly had been the inhabitants of this house, once.
Well, all minus one. A child sat beside the roots, crouching on their knees. Their hair was fair although full of knots, their clothes dirty and their face worryingly pale for a kid from a village of farmers. But the most startling feature was their eyes. For one, they looked so incredibly tired with dark rings painted underneath bloodshot eyes. Yet the expression in them told quite a different story. Although the kid radiated fear, they were drawn with determination. No, this was a child on a mission and they would not let something as banal as sleep, or the lack thereof, stop them.
Their family must have been among the very last to succumb to the mother tree. Korhys was sure that it wasn’t by mercy that this kid was still alive. The forces of nature were as indifferent as they were cruel. They didn’t discriminate against any of the villagers, eliminating them one by one, no matter if they were a field worker, grandparent or, like this child, too young to possibly deserve the ire of the Mother Tree.
No, the only reason they must still be here was by sheer luck. Maybe their family had been killed right before the army descended onto the village, occupying the roots with the new task to constantly replace the vines they destroyed. Even if the mother didn’t forget, they might still have the need to prioritize and Korhys couldn’t be more glad.
Nevertheless, they tried and failed to swallow down the guilt that came with this discovery. Showing it now in front of the kid would do no good. But what if the army had started at the other end of the village? If they had just been a bit faster? They hadn’t encountered any survivors so far, but apparently only due to their own incompetence. Otherwise they might have been able to save the child's family. Might have been able to prevent more death.
Korhys had found themselves a soldier solely due to conscription. They were not made for this, never having been able to turn a blind eye to all the suffering the army caused, or was forced to witness.
But none of this could help them now. Upon Korhys entry, the child’s eyes had widened and their fist had tightened around the wooden instrument they carried. But unlike their humming, it was obvious it had not been used to create music, as beautiful as its vibrant color and engravings may have been. Instead they had their hand tighten around the neck in such a manner Korhys was worried the strings might cut into their hand. One wrong move and the kid’s fight instinct would overcome their shock and the intruder would find themselves with a face full of wood.
Slowly, they raised their hand and gave a small wave.
“Hello, little one. I’m Korhys. I heard a noise and wanted to check if everything’s okay?”
The kid's eyes tracked their every movement, suspicion clear in the raised brows: “You are not from here.”
Underneath the attempt to sound confident was patent apprehension. While traders must have been a semi-frequent sight in this village, the news of the Mother Tree’s wrath had spread far and wide and nobody in their right mind would be foolish enough to travel to the scene of all this violence. Nobody, but the army of Their Majesty, that was. Korhys could understand the source of the child’s distrust; though they weren’t sure the news of soldiers in their hometown would be received well.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m from way farther west. Was that you humming? Quite the musical talent you got there, kid.”
The lips of the child nearly curled into a smile. Korhys counted it as a success.
“... Thank you.”
Okay, so far, so good. Time to push a little further.
“Are you hungry? I’ve got some bread with me. We could sit outside and share it.”
Their expression immediately darkened again: “No.”
This made Korhys pause. The yearning in the kid’s eyes at the mention of food was as clear as day.
“Oh, well, that’s too bad. Mind telling me why? I also have some apples, I think, if you don’t like bread.”
They shook their head: “Can’t. ‘m busy.”
Not exactly what they were expecting.
“I don’t mind waiting, got nothing to do anyway. Do you need a hand, though?”
A contemplating look crossed their face, but they ended up shaking their head: “ I need to do it.”
“That’s understandable, I also prefer to do important things myself. But what exactly is it that you do?”
This earned them several beats of silence. The kid seemed to weigh the options carefully in their head, before looking at Korhys again. When they answered, at last, their voice trembled with bitterness.
“Need to keep the rats away. My parents said that they eat everything, that’s why we always gotta take care of the leftovers. Everything, even dead stuff. And-” At this, their voice broke off. “... I can’t let them be eaten by rats. That’s not fair, they don’t deserve this. That’s why I gotta stay guard. To keep them away. So I’m busy. Have been busy for three days and I will be busy.”
Korhys had to remind themselves to not react visibly, although if you’d watched closely, you could have seen their fingers trembling. It was only after a few controlled breaths that they were able to speak again:
“That’s… quite a noble task you’ve got there. But surely you’ve slept? Gotta at least take some breaks to gather new strength.”
Slowly, they shook their head. “Had to stay guard.”
Curse the stars, nobody had prepared Korhys for this.
“Oh, but kid, even the rats sleep at night. Must have just slipped the mind of your parents to tell you. Everyone knows, the rats sleep at night so you can, too”, they tried. Oh wonder, let it work.
“Wha- what… Are you sure?”
Their voice was laced thick with restrained hope and Korhys could feel their heart break just a tiny bit more.
"More than anything.”
“Oh.”
“And while you rest for a while, I… could take care of your parents, if you permit me.”
This earned them another suspicious look.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I would like to give them a grave, so that they will be at peace and you won’t need to keep guard anymore.”
It would take some time, but Korhys was nothing but not determined to at least do that for the little family. The child would not be able to do it on their own, but the soldier had plenty of experience with digging graves.
“You promise?”
“Promise.”
The only response was a small hum, but they had won the kid over. Without any other word, they leaned to the side, choosing to sleep right then and there on the floor. Their knees were still curled up to their chest, making them seem even smaller than they already were, but their grip on the instrument had loosened.
Korhys sighed. First, they went to find some bundle of cloth to stuff under the child’s head. They could not help the kid’s grim situation, but if they could provide them with at least some small comfort, then they’d be damned if they wouldn’t try to do so. And now it was time to make good on their promise…
It had been some time when the kid stirred again. They blinked slowly, seemingly not able to recognize their surroundings before startling awake fully. Korhys discreetly wiped the dirt from their hands. Thankfully, they had already finished their task and were just watching over the small form.
Then, they noticed quite an oversight on their part.
“What’s your name, little one?”
That appeared to be the wrong question. Their lips wobbled, and fruitlessly tried to form words, but achieving nothing but a hollow silence. After a few seconds, they shook their head.
“That’s okay, we’ll just figure something out, yeah kid? Don’t you worry” Their gaze unfocused. They had sounded way too sure of themselves. What was their plan, anyway?
Could they just bring them back? The city's orphanage system was far from great, and it would be weeks until they returned. Weeks this kid had to stare at the ruins of their village, their home, knowing that they were the only one left. And the Majesty was not known for their compassion; they might see this kid who was left unharmed by the roots and decide there was a greater reason for it. Might try to create some sort of lure with the remaining villager, willing to sacrifice a child to win the war. No, Korhys realized, bringing the child to the camp would mean condemning them to misery. And something in their gut was coiling at the thought of leaving the kid in the care of someone else.
They were no parent, there weren’t any children or a partner waiting for them at home. They had zero experience doing this, but then again, what was holding them back?
They felt a tug at their sleeve. When Korhys looked down, big eyes met theirs. They had lost all their prior fight and just spoke of a deep-rooted tiredness now. Something that would take more than a few hours of restless sleep to fix.
“Where are we going?”
Fondness rushed to their heart, in a way they never had dared to hope for before. By wonder’s will, this was it, wasn’t it? They were not giving the kid up. Not for anything.
“Home.”
They stared into the sky. The stars were shimmering without any clouds in sight. The night was going to be beautiful. When they lowered their gaze again, back to earth, to the child at their side, they knew what they had to do. It had never been a choice at all. Without a glance back towards the village, the roots and the smoke of the camp behind it, they guided their kid away. Away from ruins past and into a new future.
The scarecrow stood and watched the pair leave. They had witnessed everything. Wonder settled into its chest, igniting a flame eager to be spread. Thankfully, they were quite good at sharing and telling such stories.