Keeper of the Forest
A magical sprite-dragon, Teren, learns how to control his forest, and finds that as he claims his realm, so to does it claim him.
A 1000-word bit that's the first coherant piece of work I've managed in ages. Between work, school, my health, and general apathy, my drive for writing has severely diminished. I decided that perhaps creating a full, original, new character was exactly what I needed. You might be seeing more of Teren around, if I actually work up the urge to do something with myself.
Comments are greatly appreciated, as always. Tell me about Teren, too. He's almost a candidate for a possible fursona of sorts, so, you know, your input is extremely valued here!
Don't force it; feel it. The Great Forest only grows beneath a calm, caring hand.
Teren exhaled slowly, settling himself as he sat at the base of the great oak, the little drake wedged between two of the massive roots. The din of the forest surrounded him, devoid of all else; only the chirping of birds above and the rustling of animals in the dense brush rang in his ears. No disturbance could reach him here, no distraction able to pierce his mind. Just he and the trees that swayed high in the midday breeze.
The dragon's tail curled into his laps, legs folding inwards, limbs creaking away as the toll of keeping that posture since the dawn had made itself known. He stifled a grunt of discomfort, shrugging off the sensation. The trial wasn't of the body, after all. And it didn't matter whether he'd have to try another minute or another full day. Nothing was going to budge him.
The flecks of quartz in his cobalt hide glimmered as a beam of sunlight lanced downwards from the canopy, sending a pleasurable wave of warmth from the crown of his head out to his extremities. With a small smile tugging at his lips he reached down, fingertips brushing gently against the rough, old root that cradled him.
A spark of sensation jolted his fingertips, and he had to struggle to resist pushing forth with the power that threatened to spill over from deep within him. It wasn't a matter of energy; that much was certain. He'd tried altering the flow and intensity of magic the entire morning, and not one effort had yielded against the forest. Manipulating life was not the same as toying with a stone or the waters of the stream. It possessed a level of intricacy and resilience that seemed to defy the crude shoves and pure willpower he'd grown so used to deploying, and thus far had managed to deflect every attempt to force it to his will. At this rate, his efforts to send the old tree to the skies in a burst of renewal and growth could take as long as the rest of the oak's vast lifespan.
He paused, lips pursing gently as he ran a hand down the winding, writhing length of the root. Even compared to his powers, the forest sprite could feel the tree's own energies, electric and vibrant, thrumming along within the root, just outside the range of his sense of touch. He gently prodded it, letting a soft jolt from his fingertip slip into the tree, a tiny flash of green signaling the transfer from his digit to the root. And, just as it had each time before, the tree merely absorbed the shock, the flow swallowing it as the river swallowed the streams.
He frowned, and nearly released his hand from the great plant. It would not yield to him, preferring its own essence to his vast power...
The dragon froze, eyes snapping open, a maelstrom of thought swirling in his mind, until one was hurled forth from the vortex. The tree wouldn't accept his will, any more than any other living soul could be fundamentally twisted into another. It was not a matter of forcing the tree to his position; he had to become the tree, to let it overpower him with its basic, primal sensations.
He breathed once more, shivering as he allowed his sense of the tree to fill his mind. A soft gasp escaped his lips, a flood of alien, distant impulses surging forth. Nothing could be called a true thought; the great plant merely sensed, whether it be the integrity of its limbs, the beams of sunlight against its leaves, or the clockwork of seasonal cycles. Everything was controlled, calm, from the slow intake of water and nutrients from the rich earth below, to the slow stretching and swelling of its great form in all directions...
The little drake smiled gently. He focused on that sensation, of slow, constant swelling, sending it back to the tree along its root, letting the returning, amplified sensation flow right back into the connection. A deep, low groan and crackling reached his ears, and Teren managed to open his eyes, turning his head to the canopy above.
The tree had begun its climb to the clouds, stretching higher with each passing second. Great, thick limbs writhed from the widening trunk, spouting leafy branches as they burst into open sunlight. And beneath him the great, thick roots plunged into the earth, tunneling through soil as they enlarged their foundation. Finally, he let the sensation subside from his mind, and with a single, final lurch, the great oak halted in its growth, a signal crack resounding over the forest as its form solidified once more.
Teren sighed happily, a laugh escaping his throat as his hands clapped together. He got to his feet unsteadily, grunting as he hopped to the earth and stumbled backwards, craning his neck as he stared up at his handiwork. The great oak lay nearly twice its former height, plunging a great hole in the leafy canopy, revealing the blue skies above. And as he stepped back from its mighty roots, he could see the tree's bulk had swelled outwards to compensate, its now-monstrously thick roots having swallowed nearly all of the brush surrounding it as they plunged into the earth.
As he beamed at the now-gargantuan tree, faint tingles rose up to greet his paws as they hit the soil. He paused, grinning widely as another realization rose to his attention. He'd sent an aging tree sprawling towards the skies with new life...what if he could do the same with an entire forest?
He shut his eyes, allowing the thousands of pinpricks of life to flood up from the ground. Every plant, great and small, for miles around, burst into his mind, each sensation and drive melding into one, cohesive sense of the forest itself. Then, with a careful thought, Teren recalled the impulse from the tree, a single concept: grow.
A smile leaped to his snout as the forest shook beneath his paws, thunderous crackling filling the air as it swelled forth from every crevice. The brush and trees surrounding him swelled skywards amid the cries of birds and animals, the Great Forest finally earning back its name as it surged with his power. Teren had felt the wonder of his charge with every fiber of his being, and though it was his to keep and command, he knew it had claimed him, in turn.