Ch 15
They stayed for several more days.
The camp no longer smelled of sickness. Children's laughter returned first, diminished and fragile, but carefree and full of joy. The hunters who could still walk helped Erik's people haul water, repair tents and tend to the sick. The newly recovered tried to contribute however they could, grateful simply to be alive.
Thanks to his timely intervention most were saved. Out of the fifty-two tribe members, more than half had been in critical condition and wouldn't have lasted more than a day or two. Unfortunately by the time he had arrived , eight had already died.
Mostly the youngest ones, those too small to survive the poison and its subsequent effects. It weighed heavily on everyone.
His group started the day as they always did. Martial arts training. Then they'd spilt p to help the sickly tribe. Some would go out and hunt, bringing back food and living elks to add to their cavalry. Others would help on the village either tending to the sick or generally help out in the daily chores.
Erik discovered he had a lot of free time between the morning and afternoon training, and Ainar's math lessons. And when free time is added to Erik's superpowered brain it results in crazy ideas germinating in his head.
So, he experimented. He had an idea that had been nagging him for a while now. A way to combine the warging powers with a semi sentient heart tree so he could warg with it and be able to the bare minimum connect telepathically with the heart tree network and its powers without touching it. Essentially, getting a discount version of the powers that Bran and Bloodraven had as they connect and view the past. Present and glimpses of possible futures. As a champion he could only do it when he was physically touching a heart tree.
He had noticed that his link with Luna, his mare hadn't lost its strength even they were far away from each other. He'd left Luna behind as she was expecting and they lacked horse. Also he would warg into her and listen to local gossip and keep appraised of the situation there.
'If I could create a link with a heart wood, I could alter one to be more like the thorian from mass effect universe' he mused 'I think I could replicate the telepathic spores at least'
He sat in his yurt with a few sacks filled with dirt and a heart tree stems that had alredy taken root and growing fast. He concentrated and began the process of making the weirwood into semi-sentient plant. In the roots, he merged comatose living small animals and the weirwood and then removed all existence of the small animal except its brain and nervous system which he spread throughout the plant. He wiped the brain of all memories, impulses and instincts that it had or had learned giving him a blank page to work with.
He then added sensors that he observed in other plants. Sensors for feeling temperature change, touch, vibrations, detect water and its pressure, chemicals in the soil. While plants already had most of these features, they didn't have a central nervous system including a brain. He'd given the weirwood the ability to open and close its leaves and move its green stem a bit.
'Now it's time to let them grow naturally' he thought 'and observe if the added bits give some level of sentience to the weirwood.
Done with his experiments for the day, he set out check on his patients especially Jakob, the only elder left on the tribe.
He had to make sure Jakob lived at all cost as with all the elders having died the previous winters only one remained: Jakob, white-haired, slow in movement but sharp enough in mind to see what was coming. He was the Elder warg of the who had his trusty hawk companion always with him.
Erik checked on patients for then next hour before finally Erik ducked into Jakob's small yurt to check on him as he was his routine for the past few days.
The old man sat cross-legged, wrapped in furs, staring into a bowl of steaming broth he wasn't quite drinking. He looked up as Erik entered.
"Ah… the god-touched healer visits me again." Jakob said in a cracked voice
"Just making sure you're well." Erik replied "Can't have you dying on me." He snorted softly.
Jakob chuckled, the sound dry as old bark. "Well? My bones hurt, my back hurts even more, and my bladder wakes me up five times a night. But I'm alive. Thanks to you."
Erik sat beside him. "Your fever broke cleanly. Give it a few more days and you'll feel stronger. Eat and rest."
Jakob hesitated, then sighed.
"I wanted to speak with you… not as healer, but as man to man. Leader to Leader"
Erik nodded. "Go on."
The elder rubbed his trembling hands together before finally saying it:
"I'm no leader." Jakob said "I've always been the lone wanderer of my tribe. The others… they were the wise ones who knew how to lead a tribe… but they're dead now and I'm not" He sighed "I always thought I'd die out there before them. Now I lead when I don't have the will for it"
Erik blinked. "Jakob, your people listen to you."
"They listen because I had the cursed luck to survive long enough to grow a white beard while all my friends died" Jakob said bitterly. "Not because I have the strength or wisdom to guide a tribe, I was never the leading type, I love to roam. Now, I can barely stand some mornings anymore. I cannot hunt. I cannot fight. I cannot lead us into a new season, let alone rebuild after this disaster."
He shook his head.
"And the young ones… none of them want the burden. They have no training for it. No experience. No confidence. They were children when our last chiefs died."
Erik stayed quiet, letting him speak.
Jakob took a deep breath. "I spoke with everyone."
He looked Erik squarely in the eyes.
"They want to join your tribe."
Erik froze. "…All of them?"
"All, some more, some less but they all want to join you and yours" Jakob said firmly. "Your people… your ways… they've awakened something in them. Hope"
He began counting on crooked fingers.
"Some admire your shiny, frightening armor. Some whisper about your otherworldly bows,the way your arrows fly straighter and easier than any they've seen. Others love your wonderful tools, your healing, your strange beasts."
A faint smile tugged his lips.
"And many of the young men… they are obsessed with the idea of riding great elks into battle. Half of them haven't shut up about it since they first saw your antler-giant sniffing around our camp. Even I sometimes wonder what it would feel like to ride them"
Erik let out a breathy laugh.
Jakob leaned closer conspiratorially.
"And the young women…" he chuckled, voice raspy. "Well, many of them fancy you. I hear the gossip. It warms this old heart. The others more pragmatic ladies, well they like the way the you live, the abundance of food, the safety your people and beasts provide and you keeping sickness at bay."
Erik cleared his throat awkwardly.
Jakob's expression softened, becoming almost pleading.
"Our tribe is broken, Erik. But not defeated. Your tribe lack numbers, mine lacks a wise caring leader We want a future. And you… you could offer one. A strong merged tribe. A growing people. A chance to belong to something greater."
His voice cracked as he lowered his head.
"I am begging you… let us join you. Let us serve you. Let us be part of your dream, whatever shape it takes."
Erik felt the weight of the moment settle heavily on his shoulders.
A whole tribe of forty-four looking to him for a future.
Erik stepped closer, resting a steadying hand on the elder's shoulder.
"Jakob… I'm honored," he said quietly. "But understand this. I don't want servants. I don't want worship. I want allies, people who walk beside me, not behind me yet accept me as their leader freely"
Jakob gave a weary smile, the kind a man wears when he has lived through too many winters.
"That is why you should lead," he murmured. "All my life I have seen men claw for power. You turn it away. And that is what makes people willing to give you theirs."
He sighed, looking toward the tents where survivors rested, huddled around small fires.
"They need hope. They need a north star to follow. I am… just an old warg. Not a builder of futures."
Erik frowned slightly. "You've kept them alive through worse than this."
"Aye," Jakob admitted. "But keeping a fire from dying is not the same as turning it into a bonfire that give warmth and safety to all and lets them prosper."
There was a long silence between them, broken only by wind and distant coughing from the infirmary.
Jakob straightened, squaring his old shoulders with surprising resolve.
"I will tell them,"he said. "Tonight, when the last pyre burns. They will stand before you, my people and they will swear themselves to your path. Not out of fear or gratitude … but out of belief and hope for a brighter future."
Erik felt a strange mixture in his chest, gratitude, responsibility, and something heavier, almost like destiny settling into place.
"Then I'll do my part," he said. "I'll get them food. Training. Protection. A place in our tribe. Whatever comes next, we face it together."
Jakob's eyes warmed at that.
"Good. Then our tribe shall rise to be the greatest in the north."
He hesitated before turning away, voice low and sincere.
"And if the gods truly sent you, Erik… then perhaps this is only the beginning of something far greater than any of us can yet imagine." Jakob commented.
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It was late at night when Erik stepped out his yurt. He'd felt something strange, something new in his bio radar. His instincts were telling him that it was not danger but he'd still called for his warg animals to scout and surround while he investigated. The cold mist pooled low across the ground, winding between elk hooves and the wooden stakes of the camp.
He walked further into the nearby forest, listening observing and waiting.
Then, A whisper. A rustle like footsteps made of leaves.
Erik turned. He blinked in disbelief.
Four small figures stepped out from between the birches, emerging from shadow as though the trees themselves had birthed them.
They were Children of the Forest. Or as they called themselves those who sing the song of earth
Their appearance was unmistakable yet more striking than any tale had ever described.
They were small and slender, no taller than Erik's chest, with bark-like skin textured like living wood. Each wore bark leg-bindings fitted close to their limbs, and shirts woven from layered green leaves, overlapping like scales. Cloaks of living leaves draped their shoulders, rustling softly although no wind blew.
Their hands were delicate but alien, three fingers and a thumb, each tipped with curved black claws instead of nails, sharp enough to carve stone or score bark.
Their hair, if it could be called that, was a wild tangle of braided vines, leaves, and flowers, woven together until it seemed the forest itself had crowned them. Moss-green strands intertwined with blooming white star-flowers, tiny berries, and hanging roots.
Their faces were ancient and youthful at once, eyes large and luminous, gold, amber, and pale green, reflecting light like a wolf's gaze at night.
And though small, they carried an aura of age measured in centuries. Each movement looked graceful and measured.
'If they weren't the size of children, they'd be mesmerizing and capticating' he thought absentmindedly ' but as they are it's just a weird combination to look at'
The eldest stepped forward, her cloak whispering with the sound of autumn leaves.
"Champion of the Old Gods… we have come. We greet you" they said in unison.
"The Greenseer said he'd send some" Erik nodded in greeting "Welcome! Thank you for coming"
All four nodded, the motion strangely fluid, as though they were being moved by unseen currents in the air.
The smallest, golden-eyed singer spoke:
"The Greenseer dreams in the roots of the far north. He watches. He has seen your works, life stolen back from death, flesh healed by will, power shaped by instinct. The tapestry of fate has been changed forever by you"
Another stepped beside her, a male singer with ash-grey bark skin and hair threaded with red leaves.
"You walk paths mortals abandoned." The third one said "Paths we once shaped, when the world bent before our songs."
The fourth singer lifted her clawed hand; faint runes glimmered beneath her skin.
"We come to teach you." she said in a voice like rustling petals "I am called Bloom. The Green seer commands us to show you the runes of shaping. Song and rituals that can split the continent. Power that made the Neck a bog that it has become. The powers to do great deeds both good and ill"
The forest felt suddenly small.
She stepped closer, her cloak of flowers brushing Erik's leg.
"But we also come because we need you." She said
A hush fell over the trees.
"We are dying," she whispered. "Our numbers fade. Our children are few. Fewer each century."
The leaf-haired singer looked away, pain in his amber eyes.
"We may vanish entirely… unless a new path is found."
The leader's gaze pierced him.
"You have bridged barriers of life and spirit. You command energies we have not seen. You have knowledge we cannot fathom" She said "The green seer named you Champion of the Old Gods. Our champion"
"You may save us." She said "Or doom us."
Erik drew a slow breath, letting the weight of their words settle. His wargs circled in the dark beyond, unseen but alert, yet he raised a hand to silently ease them.
"First," he said quietly, "you're safe here. No blades drawn, no threats from me or mine."
He studied them, small, beautiful and unsettling like spirits wearing bodies too small for their age. Their presence tugged at instincts he didn't entirely understand.
He knelt so his eyes met theirs without looming over them.
"I've heard the old tales," he said. "All of them talk about your power, your age, your mysteries. "
" None of them mention you seeking aid from a human "He exhaled through his nose. "That… I wasn't prepared for."
Erik's gaze shifted to Bloom, then to the others.
"You say I changed fate. Maybe I did but I didn't do it for fame or power. I did it because people were dying in front of me, and I had the means to stop it." His voice softened. "If your people are fading, I'm not the kind of man who walks away from that."
The trees creaked in the windless night, almost listening.
"So this is my vow to you" he said loudly "I will try my best to find a cure for you people. Not because of knowledge or power. I will do it because your people deserve to live as much as any other species"
The four singers looked at one another, a ripple of emotion passing through them like wind through leaves. Their eyes, gold, amber, pale green gleamed with something ancient and fragile.
The eldest stepped closer, her bark-textured fingers brushing lightly against her chest in a gesture of respect.
"You speak with truth," she said softly. "Few humans ever did."
Bloom's luminous gaze lingered on Erik's face, as if memorizing the lines of someone who had just unknowingly shifted the balance of the world.
"You vow with your heart," she whispered. "We feel it. The forest feels it."
Then the leader raised a hand,not threatening, but formal, ceremonial.
"But hear us also, Champion," she said. "Curing us is not a task of potion. It is not merely a sickness of flesh that your life weaving and rejuvenation can cure but of time and magic"
Her eyes dimmed with something heavier than sorrow.
"We are tethered to the old songs," she continued. "To the magics that shaped the world before your kind could speak. As those magics fade… so do we."
Bloom stepped forward again, her cloak shedding a faint scent of dew and wildflowers.
"That is why we must teach you," she murmured. "Not only to give you power… but that you may understand ours. The root of us. The rhythm of us and how it connect to the living world around us"
The amber-eyed singer added quietly, "The runes of shaping and songs of power are not weapons alone. They are memory and stories carved into the bones of the world."
The leader's gaze sharpened.
"And if doom should come…. Our songs, our stories , our magci will live on through you and yours"
Erik stood slowly, rising to his full height. The children of the forest watched him, unblinking, unafraid.
The leader spoke once more.
"Your vow is accepted," she said. "And in return, we give you ours. We will teach you what songs we still remember. We will show you the runes of power that even giants feared. We will teach you the true tongue even though you can neither comprehend or speak it. Not yet" She hesitated—only for a heartbeat. "And we will trust you with our fading hope."
Bloom placed her clawed hand lightly against Erik's forearm, gentle despite the sharpness of her fingers.
"Come, Champion," she said. "Tonight, the forest opens a path."
The mist around them stirred, rising, swirling—alive.
"The first lesson awaits."
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The next morning, after a quick meal and a round of Eskrima drills, everyone gathered beside the cooking fire. Jakob joined them looking tired but alert.
Korb pointed to the rough map drawn in the dirt.
"First order of the day: mounts. We need more elks if we're going to stay mobile."
Jakob grunted. "Then we'd better pray there's another herd nearby… or we'll be marching into battles on foot."
Runa elbowed him. "If you're too old to walk, just say so."
Jakob snorted. "I'm too old to listen to you, that's for certain."
The joke softened the mood, but the urgency remained. Without more mounts, their new warband was half-formed at best.
Skaldi folded his arms. "Even with mounts, we don't have enough armor or weapons."
"Only twenty full spare sets," Helga added grimly.
Jakob grunted. "We can't arm everyone properly."
Erik lifted a hand. "Then we split the force."
He gestured toward the archers—steady hands, sharp eyes.
"Twenty riders with the best accuracy become mounted archers. They get the bows and arrows."
Orvar puffed up. "That's us."
"Correct," Erik said. "Fast, light, deadly at a distance."
He turned to the rest.
"The other twenty take the armor, shields, and close-combat weapons. You'll be our light assault cavalry."
Sigrun tapped her spear. "Fast charges, flanking, harassment?"
"Exactly," Erik said. "We strike and move. We don't stand and trade."
Yrsa chuckled. "A proper warband—ragged and under-equipped, but it's a start."
Sigrun sighed. "There aren't enough big yurts. The new families will freeze." She looked at Erik. "We need more shelters."
"We'll use the tribe's travel tents for now," Erik replied.
"They're cramped," Runa muttered.
"Better than sleeping under the sky."
Erik scanned the group. "Anything else?"
Silence.
"Alright. Hunters head west for animals—and elk if we're lucky. I'll take my wargs east and do the same. The rest of you test the newcomers. Find out who's a better archer and who belongs with lances. Then start fitting armor."
He finally looked toward the back of the group where Turik and Gonir stood.
"Turik. Gonir. Go through the newcomers' tents. See if you can break down their hides and canvas and build a yurt or two."
Turik nodded at once. "Aye, I'll see what can be salvaged."
Gonir grinned, sharp and wide. "Yes, yes! I can make them. I liked making them. Tents are like people,you take them apart, you look inside, you see what they're made of!" He wiggled his fingers dramatically. "Sometimes bones, sometimes sticks, sometimes secrets."
Turik pinched the bridge of his nose. "Gonir…"
Gonir ignored him entirely.
"Oh, we will build yurts," he said, pacing in a small circle, muttering happily. "Tall ones, sturdy ones, ones that don't fall over when someone sneezes too hard. Maybe even one that sings when the wind passes through its seams. Mmm, yes… that would be fun."
Erik raised an eyebrow. "Gonir. Can you build at least one quickly?"
Gonir stopped dead, eyes snapping to Erik's with sudden intensity.
The playful strangeness vanished, replaced by a cold craftsman's precision.
"I can build two," he said calmly. "maybe three if the hides are good… and if Turik doesn't ruin them with his heavy hands."
Turik threw his arms up. "I don't have heavy hands!"
Erik tried and failed to suppress a small smile. "Just get it done."
Gonir bowed with an exaggerated flourish.
"Oh, it will be done, Champion! The yurts shall rise like mushrooms after rain!"
And with that, he skipped actually skipped toward the pile of tents, cackling softly to himself while Turik trudged behind, muttering curses.
They all chuckled at their antics as they too began to leave.
The day's work began.
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