The Whispers Of Trees

4. One With The Forest

Orym had been making choices, but they weren't necessarily useful ones, nor ones that Alimar seemed to care about.

Alea had been retrieved by Achillia for questioning, despite Orym's and his wife's protesting, her German profanities falling on deaf ears.

Orym's few hours in the bare cell had left him naming the splotches of moss or mold on the wall and the random spurts of grass in the corners.

Alimar, however, didn't appear to see the humour and spent his time on the bed staring at the ceiling, wrapped in the cloak like a cocoon. Orym had tried to subtly poke him a few times to check if he was still alive, although the care was not reciprocated.

"I've never had so many friends in my life" Orym mentioned, referring to the fungi and the moss.

"We must get out of here, the poison is quickly spreading, we do not have long" Alimar stated, his voice drawn out and flat.

"How long do we have? To stop the poison I mean. A few weeks, a month maybe? It doesn't take too long to get to the Northern villages"

"Rather two weeks at the most, and that is before the entire Mycelium is destroyed which will not simply be a matter of our forests and woodlands losing their connection but more so the entire Earth. If we do not prevent its spread, all spirits such as myself shall perish as will the Saplings. Should us souls falter, so shall Mirith, and with her unable to protect us, Ubium will rise from his confines"

"I bet wherever he's being kept is much nicer than this" Orym noted in an attempt to worm his way out of the serious and awkward discussion, but Alimar didn't find it funny and that was clear to Orym. But he couldn't help but start to wonder if Alimar had a sense of humour at all.

Clearing his throat and swallowing the urge to avoid the serious conversation altogether, Orym looked to Alimar, a pale glow in the shadow-filled room "How do you plan to escape?"

"I am a spirit am I not?" he said, his head turning to face Orym almost like a delayed reflection.

Perhaps he did have a form of hilarity, although it needed work if Orym were to be truthfully honest.

"Well, no. You're a soul" he corrected hesitantly, as though he were being tested.

"Spirit, soul, we have many names. And many abilities too"

"So why are we still sat here chatting? Why didn't you do anything sooner?"

"I was resting, it is not easy to exist among the living with a form, it is new to me" Alimar mentioned examining his hands that were stretched up to the ceiling.

"And it is new for me to be arrested and held on trial within the Cambium and yet, here we are. And all because of you, and your wife Mirith might I add"

"Mirith is not my wife, she is my mother as she is yours" Alimar clarified with a stern tone, coming to sit on the edge of his bed and looking directly at Orym.

"My mother was called Greta and she died when I was younger, I might not have an explanation for what goes on in the world but I am truthful when I say that Mirith to me, as a mortal, will forever be a myth. I have never seen her and I don't believe that one person could be responsible for everything that happens on this planet"

"Perhaps in our journey, I can prove to you that she exists." Alimar insisted

"I highly doubt it. This whole situation with the ceremonies and being absorbed into a tree is what put me off believing in the first place" he retorted as the thorns parted and in came Darfin with a guard to each shoulder, a woven basket in hand at his side.