Wizardly Dude
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Bonus Chapter #3: Debate of the Dryads
🕑 Added 2025-03-26 16:15:02 +0000 UTCAuthor's Note: This is yet another bonus chapter I wrote as a thank you for reaching our third rating and review milestone on Royal Road. This chapter contains no relevant information in regard to the main story and can be skipped without fear of missing anything. However, similar to Bonus Chapter #2, this one does take place within Edregon and may shed some additional light onto life within the Sacred Forest and dryad society in particular.
Poll Winner: Erik and his fellow dryads coming to the decision for most of them to enter magical hibernation in order to survive.
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Sensing it was finally time for the emergency convergence, the young dryad focused his mind, doing his best to withdraw from his many trees scattered throughout the Sacred Forest without accidentally stepping on any of his fellow dryad’s roots, as it were.
Some of the older dryads could get just a little bit touchy about others unintentionally leaving hints of their magical residue on their precious works. It was generally best to skirt those sections of the forest all together, unless one wanted to spend the next few weeks being lectured on proper magical control.
Thanks to the sheer quantity of power stockpiled within the Ancient Tree, a slight touch of will was all it took for him to project a physical body within the meeting room. Knowing both that magic was limited and that the convergence would bring forth nearly all of their people, he made sure to keep his form on the smaller side to ensure the room wouldn’t grow too crowded.
Forming in the physical world once more, he immediately realized he was the last one to arrive, and he quietly took his place among the others, doing his best to ignore the pointed stares from many of the older dryads.
“We’re finally all here,” an elderly dryad spoke, her voice soft yet commanding as her pale, reddish-brown eyes swept over them all, lingering on him for just a brief moment. Unlike many of their kind, her chosen form appeared almost smooth to the touch, covered in something that looked far closer to actual skin than bark. “I know haste is something of a foreign concept to most of us, but as you all know, for perhaps the first time in our long-lived lives, time is now of the essence. Thus, let us dig straight into the problem at hand.”
“With the loss of nature magic from the Druids, we shall burn through our stockpiled magic in mere weeks. A month at best, and that is assuming we do absolutely nothing,” a mature dryad spoke, nodding his thanks as the elderly dryad gave him the floor. His bark was a vibrant yellow, and the bright flowers budding from his head were in stark contrast to the frown currently on his face. “Put simply, every day we waste trying to find a solution brings our entire species another day closer to death. This emergency convergence alone is going to cost us an entire day, and that’s assuming we don’t spend more than a few minutes discussing. Because of that, I ask for those of us here to refrain from speaking unless you have anything of the utmost importance to add.”
“Days? Minutes?” Another elderly dryad spoke, her bark a deep, crimson red, matching that of the blood that was often seen dripping off her many thorns. “We do not deal with such minute concepts of time. I don’t see why this is such a problem in the first place. All we need to do is wait for the surrounding kingdoms to finally come capitalize on this curse they’ve placed our elves under and then we can kill them and feast on their innate magic. That will buy us all the time we need for the elves to regrow their strength.”
“There is no telling if what has befallen the Sacred Forest is in fact the work of the kingdoms,” the mature dryad spoke, glaring at the thorny one. “In fact, seeing as they have yet to invade despite our current weakness, I fear this was entirely unrelated.”
“What of the group of invaders that attempted to cull from us?” A fellow young dryad asked, nervously playing with the vine-braid she’d grown and styled after the elves. “Were they not from the kingdoms?”
“Sadly, the elves slew them before we could get the chance to speak with them,” the first elderly dryad spoke,” her pale eyes softening as they landed on the new speaker. “Though the fact that they attempted to chop down our outer trees rather than enter the forest and hunt for elves leads me to believe they are not affiliated with the kingdoms at all.”
“They deserved the death that came for them,” the thorn encrusted dryad sneered, clutching a fist and letting red sap drip from between her fingers. “Those that dare take from the Sacred Forest must be dealt with.”
“Enough with the theatrics, I just told you to conserve your magic!” The mature dryad snapped, frowning at her. “All our true selves are melded together to form the Ancient Tree. Every iota of magic you burn is being burned from the rest of us as well!”
“Bah,” she grumbled, waving away his concern. However she did let her hand drop, the blood-like sap vanishing as if it had never existed.
“Thank you,” he sighed, grimacing as a single petal fell from his flowers and drifted to the ground before shimmering and fading away. “We’re wasting too much time and magic. From what I’ve gathered, we stand only two chances at survival. Finding a truly potent object of power, ideally one that is nature aligned, or using epic monsters and magical beasts as a temporary replacement until the elves can regain their lost levels.”
“The elves would have refused to leave the Sacred Forest before losing their levels,” another elderly dryad spoke up, the thin layer of leaves covering him from head to toe no longer flowing in the wind like they usually did. “I put out a few subtle feelers, and I don’t believe there are any elves that would be willing to venture out beyond the forest in search of objects of power. Other than possibly his pupil.”
Silence stretched over the many dryads for a moment as they all thought about the elf that the leaf-covered dryad was referring to. The Druid of the Divine, their highest level elf in the entire forest, and quite possibly the greatest genius their people had ever witnessed rise to power in all the thousands of years they’d guarded over the Sacred Forest. Such an elf was no doubt be the first person the dryads would have turned to for aid in these unprecedented times.
Except he was gone.
Just like the elves’ levels and abilities, the Druid of the Divine had vanished without a trace, seemingly plucked from his home and swallowed like a berry from a bush. All that remained of him was his young pupil, a promising Druid currently pushing herself harder than any of her fellow elves to regain her lost strength in the hopes of discovering what happened to her master.
“If we send her out to help us… And something happens to her…” A younger dryad spoke up, his birch white pace paling even further. “Who knows what he’ll do when he finally finds his way back to us.”
“If we don’t send her out, we’re dead either way,” another young dryad argued, her delicate arms, thin like the many branches of her own trees, thrown up into the air.
Discourse ran through the emergency convergence as dozens of dryads began arguing over one another as to what the best course of action was at this time. The youngest dryad that had been the last to arrive simply stood there, watching all this play out with wide, rich brown eyes. He’d never witnessed such behavior from the older dryads, and he had no idea what to do.
“Don’t blame them,” a slow, powerful voice whispered beside him.
All but jumping, the youngest dryad turned to find himself face to face with one of the very few ancient dryads. Most of the beings within this convergence had lived for anywhere between five to ten millennia.
This one had already been considered old before those had even been planted.
The ancient dryad was hunched over, his tired smile twisted like the knots of an old tree as he took in the angry debate. Similar to the youngest dryad, the truly ancient one's form was stylized to be wearing actual clothes. Although rather than matching the elves’ interlocking leaf attire, his was a simple robe grown from moss. He’d also manifested his physical form quite small, matching the youngest dryad’s own size unlike most of the others.
“They are young and simply don’t know any better,” he continued, his weary smile reaching all the way up to his large, bright green eyes that were clouded with white. “They’ve never experienced anything like this before and are merely scared.”
“You’ve witnessed something like this before?” The youngest dryad asked, staring at the ancient dryad in awe. The ancient dryads rarely bothered to manifest physical forms these days, choosing to live out their lives peacefully within their own trees and leaving the command to the elderly dryads. The youngest dryad couldn’t even remember the last time he’d witnessed one of them manifest in person, let alone speak.
“Not the loss of levels, no. But I have experienced the loss of my entire world,” he said solemnly, his ancient smile never wavering as he watched his fellow dryads argue. “I was not born within the Sacred Forest, young one. I was forced to give up my original home and leave it behind, along with the other ancients. The reason we founded the Sacred Forest in the first place was to prevent any other dryads from ever having to go through what we did. And we’ll do anything to keep things that way.”
With a flick of his wrist, a small, single leaf appeared pinched between his fingers. Letting out a deep sigh that felt like the very winds blowing through the treetops, he let his breath take the leaf, blowing it forward and toward the center of the meeting, unnoticed by the countless arguing dryads. The youngest dryad watched as the leaf slowly drifted through the air, before landing on the floor of the ancient tree as lightly as a feather.
The moment the leaf touched the ground, a gentle pulse shot through the entirety of the ancient tree, snapping everyone out of their arguments and drawing everyone’s eyes toward the ancient dryad. Unnerved by the sudden snap of attention, the youngest dryad attempted to step away, only to find the ancient dryad’s arm locking him in place. Despite the age and withered look of the dryad, his limb felt like it was made of steel, keeping the younger one firmly by his side.
“My people,” the ancient dryad spoke, his warm, cloudy eyes roaming over the throng of confused and afraid dryads. “You all have done well both in keeping your panic from the elves, and in trying to come up with our salvation. We ancient dryads have had our own private meeting, and we come bearing what we believe is the only true solution to our current problem.”
“We need to go to sleep,” he continued, inclining his head toward the surprised looks breaking out across the older of the gathered dryads. “I know many of you may not even understand what I speak of, but there are a few among you that remember the last time such actions were needed.”
“The cursed blight that struck our Sacred Forest nearly eight thousand years ago,” the first elderly dryad said, nodding slowly at the memory. “Many of us entered magical hibernation, but we had our best Druids working tirelessly on a cure for us. There is no one to pull us out of our slumber or solve the problem this time while we sleep. We’d be gambling with our very lives.”
“We wouldn’t be able to just wake up either,” the red-thorned dryad frowned, her anger and malice nowhere to be seen as she spoke to the ancient dryad. “Our life forces are all woven together within the ancient tree. If we don’t regain our lost magic, we’ll all die. Together.”
“That is why we will leave a single dryad conscious,” the ancient one continued, his smile growing just a fraction at the murmurs that broke out at his proclamation. “One dryad to reassure the elves that everything is fine, and to ensure a solution is one day found that will save our people and allow us to wake once more.”
“That’s some pressure for a single dryad,” the mature dryad said, tilting his head curiously and causing another few petals to drift down from his head. “Who did you have in mind?”
“With age comes wisdom, but with youth, comes innovation,” the ancient one chuckled, his grip tightening on the youngest dryad standing beside him. The poor young dryad’s bark creaked as he realized at the last moment what was about to happen. “We ancient ones believe the role of our savior should be played by the youngest of us all.”
“Ancient one, I’m sorry, but I believe you are mistaken,” the youngest dryad said, nervously glancing around at the dozens of multicolored eyes taking him in. “I’m barely even two thousand years old. I couldn’t possibly take on such an important task as this.”
“Two thousand years is considered quite ancient by mortal standards,” the ancient dryad chuckled, patting him on the shoulder once more. “You have nothing to fear, little sapling. Don’t think I didn’t notice how in our most dire times, when magic is sparse, you made sure to limit your size and refrain from speaking. Out of all the dryads gathered here today, you alone have consumed the least amount of our magic with your manifestation.”
“There is a difference between being conscientious and being capable of saving our entire species,” the youngest dryad argued, shaking his head. “You ask too much of me ancient one.”
“Indeed I do,” the ancient dryad sighed, and a gentle wind seemed to blow through the ancient tree itself, despite no sign of magic being used. “Even so, I must ask it again. Will you take this burden upon your branches, young one? Will you remain awake while the rest of us sleep, entrusting you with our search for salvation?”
The youngest dryad in the entire Sacred Forest looked around, his eyes pleading as they scanned over his fellow dryads, looking for a single voice of reason to argue with the ancient dryad. But in his core he already knew it was too late. As the founders of the Sacred Forest, the ancient dryads were all but revered among their people. If they had already decided on a course of action, it meant it truly was the best move to make going forward.
Even if it meant taking everyone's lives into his own hands.
Letting out his own sigh, the youngest dryad nodded, accepting his unexpected fate. “Very well. I will remain conscious and do what you ask. I am honored by your trust in me, and I promise to do everything in my power to save all of us.”
“I know you will,” the ancient dryad smiled, his white, cloudy cataracts fading for a brief moment and revealing pure green eyes that seemed to contain an entire forest within them. Those very eyes locked directly onto the young dryads’ own as he offered one last piece of advice. “You are a dryad of the Sacred Forest. If you ever waver or begin to fear the task is too much for you, just remember there are thousands of elves looking up to you. You are more than just a dryad, you are a symbol of hope and power for these people, and I know you’ll do exactly what you set out to accomplish.”
The ancient dryad’s physical form began to disappear, and the youngest dryad could tell that his entire magical signature was growing dim, as though fading from existence itself as he slipped into hibernation. The young dryad’s eyes widened as the dozens of dryads around the room immediately began following in the older dryad’s footsteps, letting their physical manifestations come to an end and quickly falling asleep deep within the ancient tree. One after another they vanished, never to be seen again unless he succeeded in the lofty task assigned to him.
As the last of his fellow dryads left him, one last gentle gust of wind blew through the giant tree, carrying the ancient dryad’s final words with it.
“There’s nothing you can’t accomplish, Ancient One.”
