Mother Forest

7.3 | The End Of The Botanist's Daughter

They didn't give her time for her to sink her roots into the ground and wield the forest against them. They fire shots at her incessantly, each bullet cutting through the bark reminding her of who she was thirty years ago: fragile, naïve, an object to be used for science.

Each bullet shot carved holes that extracted the red sap inside her and took her back to the suburbs of Gomeh, to the orphanage to the stories she read at night, to her first lessons with Papa Olen, to the care of maid Medina, to Yuni and Aloso, and to the father that had never loved her.

He was there again, in front of her. And that's how she found the strength to push through the barrier of men protecting her target, the barelander who had tainted all the others.

And she braved all the offenders. But when she finally stood in front of the man-Papa Olen, her father, old now, but with the same deep black eyes, with his protectors lying dead beside him- she found herself unable to move.

Maybe all the bullets had damaged her system of sap that badly. Or Alika feared, maybe it was something more primal taking over her again, even after thirty years, she was unable to counter her Papa. Like she had been unable to do when he had first started to inject her with his antidote. She had known and yet said nothing. Hadn't it been for Aloso and Yuni, she would have never escaped.

In front of Alika, Papa Olen's expression changed from frightened after seeing his last men trampled under Alika's trunks, to a pondering one first. And now he adopted that confident look Alika was still too familiar with. Inside her, she felt something recoil. And Papa Olen approached her, weapon still in hand.

When he was standing before her, he said, "Alika. My dear Alika." He caressed Alika's bark, and his hand came out bloody. He had tears in his eyes. "Look at you," he said. "You are beautiful. Above all mortals. I never planned to abandon you," he said. "I never did. I am here for you, my darling. I see that you have found your place here. But aren't you alone, being the only one like this?" he asked. "I came to remediate this. I have more doses of the antidote. If only you give me a few more subjects, you will have no reason to fill alone anymore. And this time, I won't be leaving. My career in Gomeh is over. I came to be with you, to reunite with my daughter." He lifted his hand and found the spot where some of Alika's face still showed among the bark and he caressed it. "I missed you so much."

They were lies. All lies. But she couldn't find the strength in her to end this. Because she wanted the lies to be true. Forty years of age and she still was a ten-year-old child wanting Papa Olen's love.

One moment the sight of her father was still there, then a shot echoed, and he wasn't anymore. Alika didn't look at his dead body. She heard his body slumping on the ground. She turned to the source of the shot. The barelander. Her brother. He held the pistol that killed Papa Olen with a trembling hand.

Alika screamed, wishing the earth and the skies would know her pain at last.

She knew then that it was the end. Papa Olen was dead. And that, too, was the end of the botanist's daughter. Around her, it was a carnage, with bodies strewn everywhere.

Ianokeru, who had brought the barelanders to the village of Keru was looking at her with a pained face, gripping a knife. Farther way, the two barelanders were on the ground, with one crouched and crying. He was kissing her brother's forehead. Fighting the pain all over her body, Alika moved to them, her shadow falling upon them.

She dipped her roots on the ground and called for the help of the forest. Alika's vines grew around his stomach, and they dipped inside the wound in his belly, extracting the bullet lodged there. Like a belt, the vines tightened around his lower belly, enlacing themselves in intricate patterns until no drop of blood flew out. Around them, lush herbs grew from the ground.

She leaned down, staring directly at her brother. He had fainted. His face was serene, masking any sign of pain. "If you can hear me, know that I am sorry. And that I will always be thankful to you, Brother." She turned to the other one. "You will always be welcome among us. But I suspect at this moment you must be longing to reunite with your loved ones. If you wish to leave, I have freed the waters of the Uluh for your ship." She turned to the pasture she had made grow. "Take from the herb and feed him. It will help him heal faster."

Alika turned to Ianokeru. "Tracker," she said. "Lead them back."

At first, he seemed unsure, then he said, "Yes, Goddess. Yes." He got to work right away.

Alika stared upon the village of Keru, its destroyed Central Jango, the domains of varying sizes around their enclosures, the four towers of isolation... She had closed off her heart for such a long time, being among these people without knowing them. Amid the heart, she had killed Alika and opted to hide behind Mother Forest when it should have been the botanist's daughter she must have killed from the start.

She was in pain. She would need a long time of rest. She didn't know how much time she had lost but she knew it was over. Keru was her home, and she would make it her family now.