When Hans awoke, it was still night. He had only managed to get a couple hours of sleep. He propped himself up and looked around, trying to figure out where the root he summoned had taken him.
He was sitting in a treetop—a little nest created out of branches. He felt like a king as he looked down on the Gentle Thicket.
But Hans had no true dominion over the vast forest. Looking out from his vantage point, there were trees for miles. He was able to see the Mammoth Oak in the distance, looming over its tiny brethren.
What happened at the Crossroads seemed like a distant dream. Or, at the very least, Hans wished it was.
He looked down at his body. He was surprised to see that his shirt was off. He was reminded of the scars he had accumulated from years of magical fights. The people of Charthosk could be ruthless.
Looking down at his lower abdomen, Hans remembered being incredibly well-built just a decade ago. His grandfather had ordered him to do tough training and he had obeyed. He had been like a beast. He realized now why people called him the Terror of the Forest.
However, Hans had lost it all. Years of inactivity made the fat return and the strength ebb away. Though he looked like a Viking in figure, he knew he wasn’t anywhere near as strong as those legendary Scandinavians. He guessed he would be the lowest of the low in Earth Guild society.
Hans made a mental note to work out again. He didn’t know if he would ever get a chance to or if he would ever again have the motivation.
His body wasn’t only covered with fat and fading scars. There were bandages wrapped around the areas where he had recently been hurt—someone had treated his wounds. They had done it well, too, as he felt no pain moving around. He was still somewhat tired, but he knew that fatigue was the least of his issues.
As Hans wondered who had cared for him, his grandfather came to mind. “Did he stay alive all of these years, hidden, just to heal me now?” Hans asked himself.
The events of the previous day made a certain resentment well up for his grandfather. After all, he had been the one to rope Hans into all of it. He had been the one to plague Celesmond and leave the blame on Hans.
Hans wished he could talk with his grandfather and ask him why he did any of it. He wished he could punch his grandfather even though he knew it wouldn’t make the pain go away. At the same time, he felt pitiful. The fear he had incited in Percival and Felix just by looking at them—was this his legacy?
Hans’ thoughts were interrupted by a gentle hum behind him. He realized he hadn’t looked entirely around since waking up on his timber throne. As he pivoted, he saw Jasmine, her eyes closed, on another tree. She was humming a pleasant melody. Hans let her finish.
“You weren’t turning around, so I thought I would get your attention,” Jasmine said after her last note, opening her eyes. She had on her usual overalls, splotched all over with paint stains.
Jasmine loved the views of Charthosk. She thought they were more beautiful than the ones on Earth. So she painted. It was her way of letting her mind escape, just like Hans with his little bonsai trees.
Jasmine wore her heart-shaped glasses. She had added little bee earrings to match her flowery fit. A rose stem slumped from a pocket in her overalls. Though it hadn’t gotten sucked into the vortex, the petals were long gone. She didn’t have on her usual cheery apron bearing the words “Jasmine’s Flower Shop.” Her clothes had slight rips and cuts around the cuffs of the arms and legs. There was a bruise on her cheek below her right eye.
Hans became angry at the people who had brought Jasmine to Charthosk. He figured she had been brought by force just like him. He couldn’t figure out why.
There was an awkward moment of silence.
“What are you doing here?” asked Hans.
“Not even going to say hello, huh?”
“Sorry. Hello. What are you doing here, Jasmine?” Hans repeated.
“Oh, you never change, Hans,” Jasmine laughed. “I’m not here of my own volition, as you might’ve guessed. I was dragged from my home a few days ago. Three men in black suits arrived at my little flower shop and pulled my unconscious body back into Charthosk. What a pitiful way to return here,” she said, lowering her head into her arms.
“Percival, Lucan, and Emrys?” Hans asked.
“So you’re acquainted with them too?”
“Yeah. Just like you, they came to my stationmaster’s cabin and pulled me out. They were fast, I’ll give them that.” Hans paused. “What did they want with you?”
Jasmine raised her head to look at Hans. “They asked me where you were. I told them, ‘He was a few blocks down from my shop, at the train platform. You barely missed him.’” A playful smile appeared on her face.
Hans was taken aback by this information. He hadn’t expected Jasmine to sell him out like she did. He stared at her face for a couple of seconds, making sure this was still the same Jasmine he knew, who had worked alongside him in the MCIA.
Jasmine looked the same. But she had let him be brought back to Charthosk, knowing that it could break him. She had seen his condition firsthand. In fact, Hans bet she was the only one who had witnessed his pathetic state after returning to Brumont.
“Why?” Hans demanded.
“Why?” Jasmine repeated. “Because you know how boring of a life you live. I wanted to get you up, traveling around Charthosk, reliving your youth,” she said, looking into his face to see his reaction. Hans’ face remained stone-cold—he was not easily amused. Especially not when it came to his experiences in Charthosk.
“I’m sorry,” Jasmine continued when she saw that Hans wasn’t interested in her playfulness. “They didn’t beat me or abuse me much. Nothing like that. But I was stuck all alone. They told me that they would sacrifice me into that awful cauldron.” She paused. It still wasn’t enough for Hans.
She finally conceded, “You were the only person that could save me from that mess. I thought I could bring you to Charthosk, and you would eventually find me. They said you had some heathers, so I told them they could’ve just asked me for a bouquet of them.” Jasmine chuckled.
A small smile peeked out on Hans’ face. It always amused him how Jasmine could find a way to be goofy, even in dangerous situations like the one she had been in, trapped by Felix and his goons. He didn’t understand how she always got away with it.
She continued, “I think they were only interested in you, so they left me alone. I was stuck there, imagining how you would save me. And then you went and did it. I’ll have to admit, those branches were impressive, even for you,” Jasmine teased, glancing at Hans with a grin. He rolled his eyes. “. And then I raise my head and see this cloaked man amidst a sea of color, and I sense your presence, and I feel so free.”
“Wait,” Hans interrupted. “Branches?”
“Yeah. You know, the ones that came down and stopped me from falling in. That was a nice last-minute save. I was so thankful. I honestly thought it was all over.”
Hans thought back to the green gaze that had pierced through the Mammoth Oak’s treetop. He remembered feeling crushed by that terrifying glare, helpless against a being more powerful than him. He wasn’t sure who was behind the guardian’s mask.
But the branches had come down and saved Jasmine. Both of them had witnessed it--a force of nature. A force of mercy.
“No. That wasn’t me,” Hans stated briefly. Jasmine looked at him quizzically. “I don’t know anyone else who was there who would be able to use Nature magic. I don’t understand who could possibly have done it.”
Jasmine sat silently in thought.
“There is one idea I had. Right before they threw you in,” Hans added, Jasmine wincing at his words, “I looked up at the grand tree. You know how the guardian lives up there, right?” Jasmine nodded. She imagined where this could be going but curiously listened in anyway. “I saw green eyes light up. I don’t know where they were looking. I don’t know to whom they belonged.” Hans paused. “But I believe the guardian had decided to save you.”
“Green eyes, huh? You know what that means.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know any other person from Earth that would be here after the MCIA collapsed.”
They both looked down.
Hans asked, “Do you think it was him?” hoping that Jasmine would give him an answer she didn’t actually believe in.
But Hans could hear the certainty in her voice when she responded with, “Yes.”
Hans looked up at the sky above him. He had not taken a moment before to appreciate its beauty. The sky of Charthosk resembled Earth’s sky. He believed that they existed at the same time but not in the same space. He was not sure of the true relationship between Earth and Charthosk.
All Hans knew was that his grandfather had stumbled upon this world and now seemingly made it his own. Had this man who wanted Charthosk to suffer snuck into the highest position and continued to terrorize its people? Hans did not understand his grandfather’s motives. Hans was concerned about what had happened in the ten years that he’d been gone.
The sky was stunning. Away from all the pollution of Earth, everything was clearly visible. Unobscured by the light of distant cities, Hans could see the stars and constellations of the universe clearly. Any way his head turned, he was met with the void of emptiness that was space.
While the crescent moon found itself firmly in one position—unnoticeably moving around Charthosk, mysteriously illuminated by the Sun, which was fast asleep—the rest of the sky was populated by little dots of light. Humans had long formed patterns with these dots, creating connect-the-dots games for children to play, painting a rather boring canvas with a stroke of the careful organization that humans so adored, and giving names, stories, and meaning to wacky shapes and miserable polygons.
The sky was quiet. The stars just sat there, bodies of churning gases emanating light that took millennia to reach Hans’ eye. The Moon was also quiet. Only a light breeze blew through the Gentle Thicket. Otherwise, it was silent. All the animals had stopped the cycle of life to have a rest.
Hans’ mind was silent, too. He had so much to think about, but the day had taken too much out of him. He had just discovered that his grandfather was possibly the guardian. And he now sat in the middle of an unnavigable forest with his only friend. Hans took a deep breath. He wondered how he could get away from all of this.
Jasmine asked, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“This place, Hans.” He noticed her also gazing up at the stars. “Charthosk.”
“I know,” Hans said, trying to signal he wasn’t up for small talk at the moment.
“We were running past the marketplace while we were on the roofs. I took a second to look down, and I saw how active it was. I’m sure you noticed it, too, walking around earlier. This ceremony unites Chathosk. I know we’ve seen our fair share of disgusting things in this world, but all three factions have a lot of people who don’t care about any political nonsense. It’s sad that we had to get involved in all of it again,” Jasmine said dejectedly.
“Do you know what I heard when I was walking around the Crossroads, Jasmine?” Hans asked.
“What’d you hear?”
“I heard stories about the Terror of the Forest.”
“That’s what they call you, right?” Jasmine laughed.
“Yes. The name may amuse you. But they talked about the things I did at Celesmond. I’ve got to be honest, the storyteller was very good at his job. But I was upset that that’s what they think of me now,” Hans said.
“What you did at Celesmond? Come on, Hans, you can’t seriously still blame yourself for that,” Jasmine replied. “Your grandfather was the one who brought down his wrath on Celesmond. You were the face he used for the MCIA so he could get away with things. You can’t be telling me you feel guilty for that. Grow up, Hans.”
“Grow up?” Hans exclaimed. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Do you think I didn’t feel awful after Celesmond? Fynn and Hayla were just the same. All of us were. Why do you think I’ve been painting so much? Your grandfather affected so many people beyond you, Hans.” Jasmine’s voice was rising in volume and aggravation. “But at least I’m not pitifully sitting in my house and trimming the same stupid tree over and over. Hans, what would you have done if I hadn’t come to your house that day and told you to get a job? There has to be a limit.”
Hans looked away. He was hit by words he didn’t expect from Jasmine. He was hit by words he didn’t want to hear. Here was someone telling him that the way he’d been living was wrong.
Hans had hidden from the world for ten years because he thought he no longer belonged in it. At times, he felt that it was wrong to waste away the rest of his life encased in absolute nothingness. In absolute complacency. But he continued on with his habits. He continued wallowing in shame.
“I’m sorry,” Jasmine said softly.
“No, you’re right,” Hans responded. After a pause, he continued, “When I first came back here, I had a fight with the people who had captured me. You know, Percival, Lucan, and Emrys. I’m almost certain no one told them who they would be facing.”
“Did you win the fight?” Jasmine interrupted.
“Yes, I won it, Jasmine. They weren’t prepared at all. They said the guardian sent them to reclaim the heathers.”
“Ah, the heathers.”
Hans thought back to those heathers and how they had been destroyed. He wasn’t sure if the ceremony actually ever needed the heathers in the first place.
“Afterwards, they called me treasonous, and we had our fight…” Hans trailed off, struggling to finish his sentence. “And then I had this crippling feeling. Like my mind was being consumed with all these different emotions from being back here.”
Jasmine looked at Hans. She had a solemn look on her face, surprising to Hans amid her usual optimistic demeanor.
She said, “I think you’re justified in feeling like you don’t belong here. I just don’t understand why you continue to feel like that on Earth. Your routine is based entirely on your crippling thoughts. And you’ve made no effort to change it. I understand your feelings. I know what happened feels more personal to you than to me. But please, Hans, the end of the world hasn’t come.”
“Yet,” Hans joked in a rare show of humor. Jasmine regained her smile. “Well, I’ll certainly think about it, Jasmine. I think this whole experience has required me to rethink something.”
“I guess that’s a start.”
“But we have to figure out how to get out of here first,” Hans pointed out. “Can’t do anything trapped in Charthosk. What confuses me most is the heathers.”
“What about them?” Jasmine asked.
“It’s just… those heathers were handed to me by my grandfather a couple of years ago as a gift. They were standing in my cabin at the train station for the longest time. And yet the three men came and immediately went looking for them.”
“And so the mystery intensifies.”
Hans thought for a second. “So you think my grandfather’s the guardian, huh?”
“Who else could it be? Nature user that has been in Charthosk for a long time and craves power. He checks all the boxes.”
“I’m just thinking…” Hans said. “He gave me those heathers, and then he went and sent Percival and his gang to get them back. They said the heathers were sacred to Charthosk, that they’re grown in the guardian’s private garden, et cetera, et cetera.”
“Really? I’d never heard of them being used in the ceremony before,” Jasmine noted.
“Exactly.”
Jasmine took a deep breath. She realized what they had to do to escape home. She explained, “We need to go back today, Hans. Perhaps your grandfather wants to see. If what we’ve guessed is right and he ends up being the guardian, today is his last day. The ceremony is going to happen, and we need to be there. It’s our only chance.”
Hans nodded but did not respond. He lay down for a second, giving himself the rest his body so craved.
Going back to the Crossroads would be a death sentence. Felix had probably increased security after the incident just a few hours ago. They wouldn’t want anything interrupting the sacred ritual of the guardian’s sacrifice.
Hans wondered if he could just become a part of the Gentle Thicket. He could start his life anew as a hunter-gatherer—a simple life like the one he’d gotten used to.
But he understood that going back was his only option. He needed to meet the guardian. After all, his grandfather was the only person he knew who could transport people between Earth and Charthosk. If he could send them home, it would all be over.
Hans and Jasmine got up from their thrones in the treetops and jumped down, tumbling on branches and leaves until they reached the ground.
“I was awake while the roots were carting us away. While you were getting your beauty sleep,” Jasmine said, looking at Hans mockingly, “I kept track, and I believe…” She pivoted around, searching for a direction. She chose a direction and pointed towards it. “We go there.”
Hans didn’t completely trust Jasmine. But he followed her anyway, his slight limp limiting his speed. He barely saw what was in front of him in the Gentle Thicket, since only some gentle moonlight illuminated their path.
He knew that none of it would be simple. But he was given an opportunity. At the very least, he had to try.
Hans and Jasmine planned as they walked. They decided they would hide out on the roof of a building and watch the ritual as it happened. They left this early in the morning so they could scout a location where they could see but not be seen before everyone was up and the ceremony was on its way.
They did not yet know how to get in contact with the guardian. They had no way to plan a meeting with him when they considered the gravity of the event they planned to attend.
The direction Jasmine chose turned out to be correct. Hans figured she used her Nature magic to create some map of the Gentle Thicket. Or she just guessed. With Jasmine, it was impossible to tell. Each step drew them closer to a bright source of light. This deep in the forest, it was inevitably the Crossroads.
As they approached the town, Hans saw the web of roots he had put up the night before. It stretched around a big portion of the outside of the forest in three layers. He was impressed with himself. He gently moved one of the roots aside and slipped through the crack, Jasmine closely following him. Keeping the barrier up would hopefully make it seem like they weren’t up to anything.
They were now on the outskirts of the Crossroads and had to find a way to its center. They bravely walked through the main road of the town. The lights had been turned off to let people sleep.
Hans wondered where all of the tourists rested at night. He noticed some stalls had housing firmly placed above them. He was sure the Crossroads stretched much further in the direction they were going, past the Mammoth Oak. There was probably a residential area there—hotels for the festive.
Other than a few straggler shops lit up to give sleepless men a nightlife, which Hans and Jasmine tried their best to avoid, the Crossroads was asleep. Hans realized how far the calmness of the night stretched.
Hans and Jasmine walked to the center of the Crossroads. Hans chanted, “Barg kliziti.” Leaves yet again slinked out of the forest, lifting him and Jasmine up to the roof of a stall relatively close to the Mammoth Oak. The leaves shortly disappeared.
Now, Hans and Jasmine waited. They lay down flat in the middle of the roof they were on to make sure no one could see them until the morning. They didn’t dare talk. Everybody at the Crossroads was probably aware that wanted criminals were present among them. They had to be careful as they sought a way to escape Charthosk.
Hans closed his eyes, allowing himself to doze off. The Crossroads was asleep, so he went to sleep, too. He had to get himself ready for whatever the morning had to offer.