A Jaded Life

“Mother, when can we move on?” Lia asked me, once I stepped back into our gingerstone house after my talk with Mima. Her voice carried a fairly interesting mix of disgust and longing, strong enough to be easily heard, giving me the impression that she wanted to be anywhere but here.

“What brings this on?” I had to ask in return, wondering if she was affected by the amount of magic in the air, as Nature and Life Magic were completely dominant in this area due to the dryads and their forest. The magic didn’t have time to seep into the soil yet, but the air was thick with it, so it couldn't be too comfortable for a creature of Darkness like Lia.

“There’s nothing to do here,” she admitted, glancing at Alex, “We’ve done a few experiments during the day and looked around earlier while it was dark, but there’s nothing really we can do, not without risking breaking the promise we have given. These people live in symbiosis with their plants, so what counts as ‘harming’ them? Taking a single leaf could count, as it takes away resources from a plant they have bonded with, thus taking away resources from them, thus causing them harm, even if it is only the most minor harm possible. But it could count if the one judging such things wishes us ill,” she explained and now, I had to pause and consider her reasoning.

And, as I considered it, I realised that she had a point, there was no mentioned severity of ‘harm’ nor an actual definition of it. Sure, it could be all about the intent but when I was last confronted by Hestia, after causing the attack on the apartment building, my intention had been to harden the survivors there and help them in the long run. Not to cause them harm, even if I had accepted that some might be injured during the attack, I had considered them acceptable losses if it meant the community would survive long-term.

At least to my own cognisance, I had good intentions and yet, given that Hestia had given me that slap on the wrist, it might not have been good enough. So, how pure did the intentions have to be, if trying to ascertain the long-term survival of the community you were with didn’t count? What would happen if a guest discovered a traitor or some nefarious plot, acted to prevent or stop the plot but was accused of breaking guest rights as the person plotting was part of the community the guest had been taken in by?

It was a bit of a morass, the idea of guest rights was wonderful and incredibly important but also murky and fairly nebulous. If inaction caused harm, did that break the promise of not causing harm or would it depend on deliberate inaction compared to inaction due to ignorance?

There were so many nuances and possible interpretations, just stepping out of the gingerstone house could count as breaking guest rights, because our breathing took away the oxygen in the area, our steps crushed some grass and so on. If somebody wanted to find a reason to claim we caused harm, a reason could be found, even if the damage done could be incredibly minor.

“I see what you mean,” I had to admit, leaping out of the rabbit hole my thoughts had fallen into. “We’ll have to see how much Luna can learn from these people, they are, to my knowledge, the masters of the discipline of magic she is currently working on and you have to admit, their mastery over plants and the manipulation of them is fairly impressive,” I added with a grin, getting a begrudging nod at the second point.

“Can you expand the house somewhat? Just so we have some extra space for our experiments? Maybe some safety measures, too, we have some…” she paused, her grin turning quite wicked, “interesting experiments we wanted to do but we never had the space or leisure to try them,” she finished and all of a sudden, I could feel my gut clench nervously. “Please make sure that the house itself isn’t damaged and that nothing escapes into the surrounding area,” I studied Lia for a moment, before my eyes flickered over to Alex, trying to get a read on them, too. Not that reading their body language was easy, the only thing I managed to see was eagerness regarding these experiments.

“We’ll be careful, promise. But you might want to make sure that the experimentation space is fairly solid and secure,” Lia nodded, somehow failing to assuage the nervous feeling at all. And yet, I could see that both of them wanted to make something of the time spent here, something beyond being bored and sitting around in a house.

Letting out a deep sigh, I went to work, adding as many safety or protective measures to the extra story I created on top of our current living space. Magic was truly wondrous, though I might have to figure out if there was a way to expand space if only to make better magical bags. My current Shadow bags were awesome and incredibly useful but they had their clear drawbacks and might have additional problems we hadn’t discovered yet.

A few hours later, I stepped out of the newly expanded house, a wide grin on my face. It must have looked incredible to the locals watching from outside, the house suddenly growing upwards as it stretched like taffy, but then, some of them had seen how I had literally moulded solid rocks like clay as I made the house, so it might not come as a surprise. Not that it really mattered, they had seen dryads shape wood to their desire, so somebody who could do the same to stone could be seen as something to be expected.

Now, I only had to find out if Mima was accepting my request or if she was unwilling to allow me access to her tree. If it was the second, I had a feeling that our stay wouldn’t last much longer, something Lia and Alex would likely welcome with open arms and paws.

Again, it didn’t take me long to find her, mostly because she was sitting on the ground near the gingerstone house, her back leaning against one of the trees while her eyes were closed, as if meditating or sleeping. I couldn’t be sure which, the difference could be quite subtle from the outside but whatever the case I wasn’t about to disturb her. Instead, I plopped down nearby, letting the eddies and current of the Astral River flow around me, most of my focus drawn inwards. Not a real state of meditation but it was close enough to give me some much-needed relaxation.

“I have considered your request,” Mima spoke up after a little while of sitting there in each other’s general vicinity, “I would be willing to grant it but I would like to have something in return. You travelled Mundus, something I could never do, so in return for the information you can learn from studying and observing my Tree, I would like to have information on the dryads you encountered on your journeys there. I wish to know myself,” she explained, cementing what I had thought before, she was no Traveller, she was something else, making me wonder just where her general knowledge came from. She knew too much specialised knowledge to be a normal person and was turned into a dryad but she also knew too little to be a Traveller. So, what was she? Or what had she been before she became Mima?

“I have travelled for almost two years with a Dryad on Mundus, I doubt I could tell you all my experiences with her in the time my companions and I plan to spend with you and your people. But I can tell you a few stories about encounters with Dryads, Nymphs and such I had there. I’ll also answer your questions truthfully or I will not answer at all, if the answer to your question is a secret I cannot share,” I offered, getting a wide, happy smile in response.

“I would like that very much. Maybe your experience will help me understand the knowledge I hold,” she nodded, her body unfolding gracefully as she stood, apparently planning to take me to her tree, right now.

Standing up myself, I considered her words for a moment, taking note of the difference she spoke of, knowledge and experience. She seemed to have knowledge but if she lacked the experience to put that knowledge into context, she wouldn’t be able to understand that knowledge. In a way, it was the opposite of a Legacy. Mundus had given me a fair amount of experience but even with my studies there, I didn’t know all that much, especially when taking into account that some of the rules I thought I had learned on Mundus didn’t apply now.

“Lead on while I tell you about the first dryad I’ve met, Callista,” I suggested, my mind already considering what stories I should tell Mima and which stories might be better forgotten.