Chapter Text
In the vast outskirts once a land claimed bustling by peasants, merchants alike. Built from limestone, it was as if one could still hear the singing of bards, the yells of market sellers around the plaza. As the knight walked, he stared off to the abandoned posts, towers, and stalls. All for the sake of livelihood.. now barren.
This was a place where people once called a capital, a town, a home.
The life it once had, the warmth, it was all replaced with roots clasped into the buildings, ruining the material built through the earth. Walking even further, seeing rotting sacks of supply, dirtied linen.. Made him realize that it was not the same as it was.. ten years ago.
If the man beneath that metal mask had a heart, he would have wept a single tear.
But it seems otherwise.
All he knew was that.. This used to be a section of the kingdom he now serves, Mandalore. A small town by the border.. near the dangerous forest.
This vine infested forest, it somehow looks worse than traveling through the villages of Tatooine, but he wouldn't know that.
The knight, after all, has never dwelled on that kingdom, he didn’t dare to. But whenever he listened in to those crooks, he would hear about a race.. of people -are they even considered as such?- that lives through there like the ones in this vast jungle.
It was known as a place where life used to flourish.. But evil ate it all off to nourish its tyranny. The blood and flesh from the former villagers helped bloomed many weeds, both alluring.. and deadly. From the dead, it raised killers. Blood feasters, they were no animal, no monster, but they were plants, made out of wedlock leaves.
They would say it was bantha shit, just to scare off curious travellers. He was afraid, naturally.. oddness raises suspicion. But with what had happened to his son.. He knew it could be true. And he knew it could be beautiful.
It was obvious.. that the man of armour was all too familiar with each and every single one of them.
Too familiar for his own good.
Stepping into the trees, hearing the drips of dew from the plants, grass continued to be squished on the bottom of his boots. Prying away the slithering vines from himself. It was as if he had almost forgotten how.. homely this plane of existence was. After all, only knew it from stories, stories from the past that travelled its way to him.
But he can’t let himself feel that way, he only has a few things to settle, and he will be off again, away from here once more. But a part of him realized something.
How he somewhat missed being here. Yet never having traveled this way before. It was all too strange to him.
The serenity, the sound of water flowing down to the streams, and how the petals flutter to the slightest movement of the wind. It felt like he was home.
But no, he had to find someone, the guardian of this realm.
He heard a crunch on the leaves. His body tensing up. The man hears whispers in the wind. They were growing louder with each step forward.
Damn it. The knight knew this situation all too well.
He was in danger. A magic woodland isn’t the best area to scout at.
His hand resting on the hilt of his spear, psyching himself to get ready, you will never know what might happen. Huffing a few breaths, he clasped on his weapon, he would rather be ready now than never.
Hearing the trees sway, he took a step backward. Mist spread upon his peripheral vision, his visor looking sideways for any sort of darkened figure amidst. He wasn’t afraid, he was cautious, dealing with spirits is dangerous, and he knew that from code.
Suddenly the whistles of nature stopped, letting silence breathe in. The only thing he could hear was his own labored breathing.. One two three… One two… He sighed.
This was not good, he needed to either get away or move forward. But he needed to stay.
For his son.
“This is the way.” He whispered to himself, not hoping for anyone to hear it. No, it would be better if no one did. He said it for himself, as words of affirmation.. somewhat.
With that said, he took his first step forward . Then that's when he heard it. That slither.
SWOOP! A creeping plant was about to plunge itself to his throat, but he parried it, his spear already swinging to the air, cutting the head of the vine. Already? Whoever controls the forest does not welcome him whatsoever.
His arms on his weapon, he stood his stance, continuing to make his way, careful to hear the familiar shifting, like with what attacked him earlier. Another came for him, twisting to wrap itself around him and squeeze his life out, but he jumped away, leaving it to find him.
It was persistent. From the sounds of it rustling through the earth, it sounded like a snake trying to find its prey, and he was the long awaited food from its hunt. The sharp ends trailing after him.
He didn’t know what possessed him to do so, but he dashed to it, running towards it and slashing heavily once it stopped just right in front of him. He felt his head pumping down blood and adrenaline, his veins were on fire and his breaths fret with acceleration.
Stumbling, he was about to place his steele back to his back until— Shit! Another vine- no— a root was coming after him, instead through his face.
It was trenching back under his chin just by his neck, emerging to stab through his flesh, but he wouldn’t fast enough to block it- Was this the end for him? a pathetic death from a magicked plant?—
But it stopped just right there, pressing lightly to the cloth covering his neck. It was not the end for him, just yet.
“Hold it.” He hears someone say. “Stop your advances.” and he freezes completely, along with the plants. But he doesn’t do so from fear, but from something else. As if something was forcing him down to the ground, to dig his boots through the caking dirt. He turned around, only to have his own eyes widen, and his own hand tightly grip his own spear.
Damn it.
He could hear the same whispers from earlier, now learning that it was fellow creatures of the land who spoke. They held themselves in such a high regard, and he knew. Trying to look up, he sees a figure standing beneath the twigs of trees.
“Silence.”
A voice at the front broke the silence.
It was you.
He realized who it was. You, in those illustrations- those books his kid would want him to read for bedtime. You were posted commissions of the guild. You were the nymph- no in better words- a diwata . A powerful entity of the woods, born to control the greenery.
The goddess- or fairy that people wanted to wring your neck with rope or burn by their stakes. The one who started the chaos, the hunt to find who took over the village with thorny arms. If he were another greedy man, he would have tried to burn this place to the ground.
But he only has one thing to do here, and one thing only.
“What business do you have here, trespasser?” Your voice boomed at him, but the strength of him being pushed to the ground was too strong, he couldn’t open his own mouth. You gave him a look, as if taking him in, inspecting him, and it clicked in your head.
“Ah. That helmet. Never mind then.” The branch you stood on grew and slid right through the floor, letting you step on to the grass. A whisper grew louder than ever, stating. “Mariang- Don’t get too close to the human—“ Cutting her off, you explained. “Hush Amihan, no need to worry, your winds in our forest are holding him down enough.”
You scoffed, looking at him once more. “He can’t do anything to me.”
“Even if you were unbound, knight.. What can you do?” Your brow raised at him, “Weapons are nothing against me.” Touching his shoulder, you went on. “You can try to make me bleed if you want, to see if I indeed have golden blood,” He felt the weight striking him down dissipate, “But you won’t succeed.” He didn’t even realize the fog had already disappeared, turning itself into pale light dusting the waters.
“Now.. human. Why are you here?” You asked once more.
He stood up slowly, shifting his weapon to his hip, he spoke. He had to say it, you were his only way of aid.
For Grogu.
“I need help.”
Your eyebrows raised, as if taunting him. “A knight needing my help? For what? A Bountiful feast? Roasted boars served to you? Or is it a fight between men? War between your lords?—“
“It’s not about a fight nor food.” He said shortly, “It’s my son.”
Brooding silence, you were surprised to hear this, a man not wanting anything so.. materialistic. It’s not as if you haven’t witnessed this before, but that was so long ago.
This knight wasn’t just a warrior.. he was a father. You used to help families, you used to give out little sheep, piglets, fruits to children to give to their mothers and fathers to eat. You used to love the familial bonds of these humans, so much that you partook it in with your treelands. Giving such care to your fellow fairies, and even just those simple plants.
A tug in your immortal heart, your hidden kindness sung to him, making your voice chime. “.. What has happened to your offspring then?”
“I can’t guess... what exactly it is-“ He went on, gripping his hilt. “But he can’t remember anything from his childhood.. Or anything.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s not himself, I don’t know why. Rather than that- he suddenly can make.. things float.”
This surprised you, “Your son uses magic?”
“What?”
He’s heard enough stories through the bars. He could faintly remember the smell of disgusting beer from the mouths who have spoken, and the sounds of crude English, with strong and weak accents. They all chattered along with strange tales alike.
He would sometimes listen in, waiting for the next job in the roster board as he sits in the most secluded corner of the cantina. He remembers the whispering tone, how secretive.. how fearful they sounded.
The flowers of the forest are what powered their people, they would say. It powered their people to do magic… So they say. But now he can tell that was not true. The radiance you held was yours and yours only, not from nature itself. It may aid you like this.. But it was no source of power.
Was his son like you as well?”
“No dear knight, your son is nothing like mine.” You answered his thoughts, “If he were.. he wouldn’t be human.”
He was shocked, stunned even.“Did you—“
You shook your head, “No, I don’t- or can’t read minds.”
“But it’s written all over your face— In this case, your helmet.” You tittered, “Besides, he would be a magician, not a spirit like me.”
“A magician?” Now he was getting even more confused, and you could tell from his voice.
“You really don’t know anything about magic do you, knight?” You were amused, wouldn’t a human know at least a few things about this type of art? Then again knights are known for brawn.. Sighing,you continued. “You will need better help from a magician for your son, not me.”
He tilted his head, his visor letting on a quizzical look. “Why can’t it be you?”
“Well- as much as I like to help, spirit magic against magician magic have different rules.. Even if we were to find the cause.. I wouldn’t be able to fully help.”
“Anything will be fine. As long as you can help.”
He was truly desperate, all for his kid. It warmed you a little. You were weak against love like this.
“.. Fine. I will help you in finding a magician.. and maybe pry into his mind to see some of the cause.” You said, he looked up at you, and you could tell he was somewhat pleased.
“Thank you.” It was so sincere, not only could you hear it, you felt it through your bones. Guilt suddenly crept inside you, you wanted to not give too much hope to a father.
But it seems that you already planted the seed.