Chapter 3

  Stepping into the space of the inn, Graham immediately felt the early morning chill melt off of him. The aches in his body evaporated and were replaced with a feeling of home as he looked about the spacious inn.

  Warm, dark wood beams accented the walls made from large, polished stone bricks. The floor was the same dark wood present in the walls and ceiling and had a slight creak to it as they walked. The various tables and chairs strewn about were of a very fine polished wood that almost still seemed to be living, as some parts had branches and leaves growing off of them.

  And through it all, a bar stretched over half of the space, with a pure black-furred Rabbit manning the bar, currently washing a glass and trying to look as busy as possible now that Ms. Roxy had entered.

  “Hiya! Can I get ya anything Ms. Roxy? Or anything for the younguns ya got there?”

  “Yes, please, Gloria. A pot of Pommeberry tea and 3 cups please. And also, I believe this one was wanting some pie.”

  “Commin right up!”

  Ms. Roxy looked over the two young animals in front of her. She gave an exasperated sigh followed by a small smile upon seeing Graham’s eyeballs threatening to leave his head at this entire experience. A lecture can wait, I suppose.

  “Now sit, children. I believe I owe you a story about our Tree.”

  Before long, Ms. Roxy was seated in a specially carved wooden rocking chair in front of the hearth while the small Rabbit and Mouse sat at a table across from her with several desserts and a teapot placed on the table.

  “The Tree is what’s left of the Goddess Villia, the Queen of the Forest. Long ago, before the Sleeping Dragons were–”

  “DRAGONS ARE REAL?” Graham’s eyes were so wide that Ms. Roxy could see her own reflection in them.

  “Yes, now hush and please don’t interrupt. Where was I? Ah, yes. Long ago, before the Sleeping Dragons were still roaming these lands, before all manner of magic beasts had been driven down into the Wildlands to the South, and before the Woodland Folk had come together and learned to speak to one another, this land we stand on was fraught with fear and danger. Terrifying magic-wielding Beasts hunted one another in search of power, creatures like you and I hid underground in fear for our lives, with some generations never seeing the surface. The Dragons were the worst of them. They hunted and fought for sport, always seeking to improve their own power and discover the means to which they could achieve their rightful place among the divinity. Back then, the Gods weren’t exactly keen on interfering with the affairs of mortals, they had spent eons fighting one another in the God Wars on the far side of the planet and were either too weak, or the pain they caused too fresh. Much time passed while the monsters here fought and ruled the surface, and the Woodland Folk we know today cowered in fear. That is, until a brave young Rabbit named Villia ventured out from her burrow, determined to see the surface and tired of living in fear. She ventured to the lair of the Great Dragon Gugnir, and stole one of the magical artifacts that he had collected.”

  “Whoaaaaa, what was it?” Graham could barely contain his excitement. Fleur shook her head seeing the dumbfounded Mouse before turning back to Ms. Roxy.

  “It was a seed, wasn’t it?”

  “Correct, Fleur. It was a seed. The seed of a very special Fig Tree. Villia took this seed back to her burrow and nurtured it. She nurtured it for many years until it grew big and strong, bearing fruit of extraordinary power.”

  “Is this Tree the same one?”

  “No, once again, please don’t interrupt.”

  “Sorry.” Graham’s ears drooped. Fleur giggled at the movement.

  “Not long after that, Villia began giving the fruit to all of her family and all Rabbits she could find, and when they ate it, they were given the gift of magic.”

  Letting this sink in, Ms. Roxy took a long sip of her tea. Light, fresh, and fruity with hints of earth.

  “Wait wait wait. That’s how Rabbits got magic? The Mousefolk story is way way cooler. In our story there was a Mouse Warrior named Gorepaw who fought 100 of the magic beasts all by himself! And then he was given magic by some creature that he rescued from the beasts. He was able to pass it along to his children and that’s how we all got our magic.”

  “That’s dumb, Graham. Villia’s story is way better. She was a guardian and a nurturer not some cheese-headed war junkie.”

  The sound of Ms. Roxy’s hearty chuckle filled the air.

  “Oh, don’t mind me. I was just thinking about how young you both are. But you know, both stories have been passed down through Mousefolk and Rabbits alike. I’m surprised you’ve never heard the Rabbit version before though, Graham. And also, the Mousefolk version you’ve no doubt heard from your parents didn’t mention Dragons?”

  “Yea well in school everyone just wanted to talk about the Mouse Patron God. And sometimes the Squirrel one. But that story is freaky. And no my mom never used Dragons in the story. She used to say they were Predators.”

  “Not entirely wrong, mind you. And yes, Firnhkin’s story is a bit too brutal for such young ears. But that is something they celebrate in the Squirrel clans. Their Patronage Ceremony is infamous even today. I knew a couple of Squirrels back in those days.”

  Ms. Roxy looked into the warming fire with a longful expression. But she quickly composed herself and returned to looking at the two sitting before her. This was no time to lament on the past.

  “But to finish, the story goes that Villia guided those who ate the fruit and they rose up to rebel against the monsters of the surface. Then, in joining with the other Patron Gods, they drove the monstrous magic beasts out and sealed the Dragons in their own dens. There, they still sleep today. And it was during that battle that Villia gave her life for the other Patron Gods to live; her sacrifice was immortalized and her soul was turned into this Tree. This Tree has been here ever since, providing shelter and nourishment to all who seek its leaves.”

  “Can the Dragons ever come back?” Fleur wore a look of fearful questioning.

  “So the story says. It is said that when the Gods join their hands at the Fall, the Seals will give way, releasing the Dragons from their dens.”

  “Why would anyone want to wake the Dragons? They sound like they were all evil.” Graham furrowed his brow skeptically.

  “Would you say all Rabbits are nurturing and hospitable? Or that all Badgers are warmongering and ruthless? How about Squirrels? Do you think they all will put their lives on the line for their own honor?”

  “I…I guess not.”

  “Let this be an important lesson for the both of you. Predispositions exist for all species. In fact, most pride themselves on it. But it is not all encompassing, and it is not absolute. Understood? The most chivalrous Mouse is still capable of treachery as if it were a Predator.”

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  “Yes, ma’am.” “Got it.”

  “Unfortunately, that lesson was hard learned. As even the Dragons that supported the cause of the Patron Gods were sealed away, the majority of the Gods deemed the Dragons all too dangerous to be allowed to roam free.”

  The trio sat in silence for a moment before Fleur perked up.

  “But wait, Ms. Roxy. If this tree is Villia, what happened to the Fig Tree she planted?”

  “Nobody knows. Some stories say it was cut down and the wood used to build a statue in her honor. Some say it’s still there, haunted by her spirit. Though none of the stories say exactly where in the Valley she planted it. I looked for it once upon a time in my youth.”

  “Wow, maybe I’ll try and find it too one day!”

  A smile broke through Ms. Roxy’s calm demeanor.

  “Another worthy goal, Fleur. Though you must not lose yourself in your lofty goals. They may end up consuming you.”

  “I’ll be careful, Ms. Roxy.”

  The trio sat and chatted a while longer over tea. And once the teapot had run dry and every crumb was consumed, Ms. Roxy sent the two children on their way. The evening sun sent its pink-golden rays through the leaves of Villia’s Tree, signalling the coming night. She watched as they playfully jabbed each other as they walked down the street in the direction of the Sunfields. Shaking her head, she returned to the cozy fire of the inn, eager to begin the preparations for the night time rush.

  __

  “You sure you’re ok?”

  Fleur watched Graham as he walked, who wore a grimace while staring at the dirt path they currently walked. Now that they had left Honeypot Village, the path they walked was relatively quiet save for a couple of travelers making their way to Honeypot with intention of staying at the inn.

  “Yea of course. You’re the one that healed me, remember? Or are you suddenly not good enough to heal a couple cuts and bruises?”

  Thwack

  “I can give you some new ones if you like. That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

  Graham rubbed the spot on the top of his head that was suddenly looking a bit taller than the rest. He didn’t respond immediately, choosing instead to turn his gaze down to the dirt path they were using to exit the forest and go into the Sunfields. In the silence, the wind ruffled the leaves and the distant conversation of two Birds talking about their Springtime plans drifted to the ears of the walking pair.

  “It’s just…I don’t know what else to do.” Graham suddenly spoke up. “I’ve been training. So hard. But it means nothing in the face of someone like Hould. He’s bigger, stronger, and faster.”

  “Yea but he’s an actual idiot. Your mind can run circles around his!”

  “What good does that do me if my body can’t keep up?”

  “You just need to look at the positives. Even if you almost got decapitated, you still got some good hits in, right?”

  Graham briefly thought back to the look of surprise on Hould’s face when Graham managed to cut him on the arm. Is it bad that I kind of hope it still hurts?.

  “I wouldn’t have been able to do anything. I would’ve just froze up and he’d have killed me. Thanks again for saving me, by the way. I promise I’ll make it up to you one day.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Really. What kind of Knight would I be if I didn’t even stand up for my friends? What did they want with you anyway?”

  Fleur hesitated, her whiskers twitched slightly. “At first…they were just being mean. You know how Hould is.”

  Graham nodded to himself. Boy oh boy did he know. They’d practically grown up together but that extra Spring gave Hould the edge he needed over Graham in strength and size. Maybe next year once Graham got a bit of a growth spurt, things would be different.

  She sighed. “I guess they were on patrol or something and saw me carrying the gift I had for you. I brought you a whole Redberry Pie as a surprise.”

  “Wait. There was a pie?” Graham’s ears perked up.

  Fleur gave him a flat look.

  “Yes. But they took it before you arrived.”

  “Now I feel much better about cutting that oversized Rat.”

  Fleur chuckled before returning to her downcast look.

  “But then…They recognized me. They know that you and I are friends and hang out a lot. So they started asking me questions about you…and your family. They were saying things…I don’t know if it’s true but–”

  “I think I have a good idea of what they said.” Graham looked away and his tail flicked once before he turned back and faced Fleur with a fire in his eyes. “You don’t need to be sorry or feel bad. I only intervened because there was pie involved.”

  “You didn’t even know there was pie until I told you, dumbass.”

  “I wasn’t surprised at all. I knew in my heart that pie was involved. That’s why I came running as quickly as I did.”

  “Sureeeee. It definitely wasn’t because you were LATE!”

  “Ouch. My heart. It can’t handle all this ungratefulness.” Graham grasped his heart and winced at the phantom pain in his chest.

  Fleur laughed and shoved him away from her. The weight of the conversation drifted away with the Spring breeze, and soon they were almost home. Before them, they could see the break in the trees where the world opened up before them. For miles in every direction, rolling hills and fields lay stretched out like a green and gold quilt. Dotted on the landscape were small groups of buildings that clustered together to form villages or small farming estates. The Springtime breeze rolled across the Sunfields, gently swaying the crops that had already started growing in neat rows. The evening sun gazed on the pair, softly embracing them in its warm glow as they looked out at the cluster of buildings that were their destination. The small farming village of Wheatbrook.

  “Are you planning on going back to the Burrow again tomorrow?”

  “Yea. I have another lesson with my Master tomorrow. I just hope it’s not more sword drills. I need to learn how to actually fight.”

  “My Master says that he fears the Mouse who has swung his sword 1000 times versus the Mouse who has swung every kind of weapon 100 times.”

  “Great. Now you sound like my Master too. Tell me, what do I owe you for your words of wisdom, O’ Great Rabbit Sage?”

  Thwack

  “Consider the payment satisfied.” Fleur says with a smug grin.

  Graham winces feeling the twin bumps that have made a home on his head. May be a good time to stop antagonizing the violent Rabbit.

  “What about you? What are your plans?”

  “Well, I have to help Master in the garden this week. Something about feeling the magic in the roots of different flowers.”

  “But that’s pretty cool, right? I’ll bet there’s a flower spell in your future!”

  “So you’re a Seer now too? Gotta add that to the list.” Fleur rolled her eyes.

  “Oh, bite me.”

  “Sorry sorry. I was just hoping for the chance to learn some real magic by now. Healing spells are great and all but that’s not really what being a Druid is about.”

  Fleur kicks a stray rock on the path.

  “Don’t pout. I’m sure your training will take off this year by the time the Summer Festival happens. And besides, you’re already the best Druid at healing magic in the whole village!”

  “Not much of a compliment.” Fleur mutters to herself. “But thanks, Graham. That means a lot.” Fleur gives him a small smile.

  The two finally reach the village of Wheatbrook and go their separate ways, waving their goodbyes. A couple of the farmhands were just now returning from work, carrying various tools and chewing on wheat. No idea why they do that. Graham puzzled to himself. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted in the village from the local bakery that sat in the center. An older Rabbit exited the bakery with her arms full of baguettes and gave a short farewell to the presumably the owner of the bakery. A couple of Mousefolk children ran through the streets, coated in mud, laughing and giggling as they chased each other. Graham could barely make out the yelling of the two kids’ mother as she scolded them for getting so filthy.

  Graham walks up to a small cottage with smoke lazily listing from its chimney. The cottage looked like it had seen better days, with patchwork repair jobs visible on various walls and beams supporting the house. The fence outside housed a small garden with various vegetable seeds planted in the loamy soil, little wooden signs with images of what lay beneath the sat at varying points in the garden. Through an open window, Graham could hear the familiar humming of his mother as she worked to prepare dinner for the evening. The scent of roasted vegetables wafts to his nostrils making him perk up. He was Home.