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Introduction:

Here's a little more of the story. Still not done yet.
Filled 4

Scott went outside and checked the car, which was just fine, then trotted over to his own house and went inside. His sister was sitting at the table and looked surprised to see him come in.

“Where have you been?” she asked. “I thought you were sleeping in. Mom did, too. She went out yard sailing.”

Their mother went to every yard sale in the city, every Saturday, as far back as they both could remember. Sometimes one of the other of the kids went with her.

“I went to breakfast with Tiana at Jordan's this morning. She came over to my window and woke me up. That's why you didn't see her.”

“To your window, huh?” Chrissy grinned. “Wish I could get a boy to come to my window.”

“Careful what you wish for, squirt.” he said back. “I have a lot of friends that would do it on less than a dare.”

“Pfff.” she snorted. “None of your friends have enough balls to trespass onto the lawn, let alone survive what I'd do to him once he was in my room.”

“Happy Birthday, sis.” he smiled slyly at her. “What are your plans for the day? You only turn sixteen once, you know.”

“I'm well aware of that, big brother.” she grinned back. “Tiana turned sixteen today, too. What kind of 'present' did you give HER in your room this morning?”

“Breakfast.” he answered with a grin.

“Well, you can buy me breakfast, too.” she retorted. “I like going out, and it's MY birthday, too. How come you didn't bring me?”

“Well, technically, she got FED her breakfast before we went to Jordan's.” Scott told his sister, winking.

Chrissy's eyes got big when she caught his meaning. “Really?” she asked, her voice as soft as it could go. She looked at her brother again and narrowed her eyes.

“You better NOT send one of your geeky friends to my window.” she warned. “I'm not THAT kind of girl!”

“Neither is Tiana!” Scott said defensively. “Don't you dare talk bad about her!”

“Jeez, sorry Scott.” she said. “Is she your girlfriend now? That would be weird. You two have been best friends since, well, forever, really.”

“It's not weird at all.” Scott said. “And she's not my only girlfriend, either. I'm going to be having bunches of them. You wait and see.”

“Yeah, right, my brother, the harem master!” she laughed, and brought her empty cereal bowl over to the dishwasher. When she turned around, Scott had disappeared into his room.

He quickly emptied his day pack of his schoolbooks, then stuffed some jeans and T-shirts into it, filling it the rest of the way up with socks. When he had it full, he dropped it onto his bed, collapsing next to it and holding his head as everything started to go black. A giant rushing sound filled his ears, and his whole head throbbed in time with his heartbeats. It felt like dying.

Just as he was fading out, he saw his sister come to his side, bending down with a look of concern on her face. “Scott? Sco-”

He woke up in the Grove, and Onthamar was just finishing the Song that had called him out of Sononia.

“Whoa.” he said, sitting up and shaking his head. “That was REALLY weird!”

“Come.” Onthamar said, standing up. “I have much to show you.”

Scott got to his feet and looked up at the much taller Kalastiel. He held out his hand to shake again, and Onthamar looked down at it, a long time, then finally took it.

“I return your gesture of trust and frienship, Scott Blaker of Flagstaff.” he said solemnly. “Come. There is much you must see and learn of this place.”

Onthamar led them out of the Grove, and up the hill. They climbed a long time, and the sun was hot as it shined straight down on them. They went uphill for what seemed to be miles, and there was not a tree or shrub in sight. The only vegetation was the short grass that covered every inch of the ground.

“Where are we?” Scott asked the Kalastiel.

“It is not known.” Onthamar finally answered, stopping to catch his breath. He turned around and bid Scott look behind them.

At the base of this hill, the plains ran endlessly into the horizon in all directions. In the other direction, there was only the mountain, slanting sharply uphill. Everywhere, the grass covered all.

“Come. We have far to go, and we must be off the Mountain before the sun sets.” Onthamar told him, then began trotting upward again. Scott dashed to keep up.

“How about a guess?” Scott asked. “I mean, obviously, we're not on Earth. My planet.” he said. “And we're not on YOUR planet, either, because you said it was 'unknown'.” Scott was trotting to keep up with the other's long legged stride.

“And I don't think this is the Movert's home planet, either.” he said, puffing. “I mean, why should it be? We wake up here, with these tree things, why shouldn't the Moverts wake up here and have tree things, too. Right?”

Onthamar stopped and looked at Scott in a new light. “Who has told you of this?” he demanded.

“Nobody TOLD me of it.” Scott said. “I'm just guessing.”

“Well, you guess correctly, Scott Blaker of Flagstaff.” Onthamar replied. “The Moverts have a Grove at the peak of this Mountain. If we can reach it, we may be able to uproot some of their Tree.”

“What happens if we can KILL their Tree?” Scott asked. “We could win the War, right? What happens to the Moverts if that happens?” He looked at Onthamar in earnest. “I'm not sure I can be a party to a whole genocide, even at the expense of my own species.”

Onthamar looked at Scott for a long time, thoughtfully. Then he held out his hand to shake again. Scott took it.

“Killing their Tree would not kill their species.” he told Scott. “At least, it is not believed so. Almost all certainty is faded about this place. There is no real way to quantify the correlation between this world, that of our, and that of yours. And that of the Moverts.” he added, as an afterthought. “What IS known is that this world provides a rough parrallel to all three of our worlds. I strongly suspect that this world predates our worlds, and provides the link between all three. Perhaps this is the world that the Mushrooms evolved on.”

“The mushrooms?” Scott asked.

“The same species of mushroom grows on both of our worlds. Others have talked and this conclusion was reached long ago both both our peoples.” Onthamar told him. “It is suspected that this mushroom grows on the Movert's planet as well, and breathing or eating the spores is what triggers the genes in certain individuals to bring them here. Puberty and sex have much to do with it, as well. Certain conditions must be met, or the genes don't react.”

They were running again, always uphill, and soon Scott could see a massive tree, bigger than any redwood growing out of the summit of the Mountain. They went right up to the base of it, and on instinct, Scott put his hands on the Trunk and began to Sing.

Onthamar looked shocked, but he, too, put his hands on the Trunk and began to Sing. Very soon, a smoky mist began to appear at their feet some distance away.

It coalesced into a Movert, with slimy green hair, three jointed arms and legs, and vicious claws and teeth. It was sleeping peacefully on the ground, and Onthamar took his hands away first.

He advanced on the creature, meaning to throttle it with his bare hands, but Scott grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“You're going to kill it?” he asked, astonished. “We should try to talk to it, first.”

“If you wake that thing up, it will kill us both, then go down the Mountain and destroy every tree in that Grove.” Onthamar said. “I didn't even know we could call this forth. I say, we kill it right now, and be done with it!”

Scott still hesitated a moment longer, then nodded. “Okay, I believe you. Let me get ready to grab it's arms and legs so it doesn't claw you to death, okay?”

“You would risk yourself?” Onthamar asked, surprised. “No Kingmage before you has done anything but hide behind his followers.”

“You're risking yourself as well.” Scott pointed out. “And from the looks of that thing, you're going to need all the help you can get.”

“The human part in this war has never been physical.” Onthamar told him, explaining, as if to a child. “Humans fight best with their magic and their minds in this place.”

“I will risk myself.” Scott said. “We'll kill it together. Let it not be said that humans are afraid of the risk no more.”

Onthamar looked at Scott a long moment. “Do nothing until you see a need.” he said finally. “This thing is strong, but you are not. I think I can do it alone, but it is good you are here. Perhaps your magic can be of help.”

“whatever I can do to help, I will.” Scott promised. “I'm ready.”

Onthamar knelt beside the Movert, behind it's upeer back as it lay on it's side facing away. Scott moved up and stood over it's head, looking down. Onthamar looked at Scott one more time, then, seeing his nod, grabbed the Movert's neck in his powerful hands and began to squeeze.

It took a long moment for the Movert to wake up, but it very quickly realized it was in trouble after coming to. It reached up with it's weird claws, but it's body had been designed to hug the ground and it couldn't reach behind itself very well at all, despite the extra joints in it's arms and legs.

Onthamar fell to the ground right behind it, entwining and trapping the creature's legs and immobilizing it. The Movert had one limb loose, that of it's upper arm, and all it could do was flail the air and stab into the ground right in front of it's face.

Scott could see that the Movert wasn't suffocating fast enough, and that Onthamar might be in trouble if he couldn't hold on. The claw dug out of the ground, and instead of letting it go into the dirt and giving the Movert leverage, Scott grabbed the clawed hand just at the wrist, and let the involuntary spasm of the creature impale the claw into it's own head.

The Movert let out a long, inhuman squeal, shuddered in Onthamar's unyielding grasp, and died. The air hissed out of it, and wasn't taken back in.

It began fading back into mist, and Onthamar pushed it away and stood up as quickly as he could. The Tree behind them began drooping, and leaves began to fall all around them. The Kalastiel looked quite pleased.

He held out his hand to shake again, and Scott took it gladly.

“Does this mean the end of the War?” Scott asked. “We killed the Movert... King, Queen, whatever it was. It's dead.”

“It means they won't be as strong or as numerous tonight.” Onthamar said. “It could mean an end, yes, if we are bold tonight.”

“We have risked much already, and we're doing okay.” Scott pointed out. “I say, let's go for it. Let's win this War tonight, and then maybe everyone can get on with their lives.”

“It would mean killing every movert that comes at us tonight.” Onthamar said. “They will be faster and more cunning than we have ever seen before. Never have they feasted on fifteen humans before, and seven Kalastiel fell last night. The Moverts will be strong.”

“We have the Grove.” Scott pointed out. “Not just a Tree. A whole Grove of Trees.” he said. “Doesn't that mean that more Kalastiel will Dream themselves here?”

“More than has even been.” Onthamar smiled. “Perhaps, we might even match the human numbers, for the first time in the history of this place. Never has such a thing happened. Never have we had a Kingmage of our own.”

Scott noticed that the Tree had a shadow now, and it seemed to be growing away from them. Onthamar noticed it too, and his face filled with fear.

“Come!” he said, then began sprinting down the hill. Scott ran as hard as he could, and was just able to keep up. He could tell that the Kalastiel was pacing himself, so as to not outstrip the human and leave him behind.

Finally, Onthamar looked at the setting sun and knew they were not going fast enough. He picked Scott up ungraciously and threw him over one shoulder, in a fireman's carry, and fairly FLEW down the hill, letting his leaps take them over at a far faster pace than Scott could ever have managed.

Thanks to Onthamar's great speed, they made it onto the plains, and back into the shelter of the boulders with a few minutes to spare. Onthamar leaned against Sononia with one hand and gasped in breath after breath.

As the sun slipped below the horizon, hundreds of ghostly forms began to appear under the trees again. They were all human, and Scott eagerly looked for Jordan Miller, and to his great joy, he was one of the first to appear.

As soon as he was solid, Scott shook him awake. When Jordan realized where he was, he smiled and began waking up certain of the others that he recognized. Tiana showed up, and she arose by herself, just a moment after she solidified.

“Let those loyal to the Council stay asleep.” Jordan advised Scott, a minute later. He looked around at their group, and them at the boulders, and smiled. “We have plenty enough right here to hold this place, easy.” he said. 'The more Moverts one kills, the stronger one is in the Power.”

He looked at Scott. “I had to kill three of them today. Three that the Council sent.” he said. “Somehow, I was able to see them coming first, otherwise, I would have been dead meat.”

“I got lucky.” Scott said. “Two sniper bullets got into the car with me today.”

“I say we go put them all down, right now.” Jordan said, but then more misty smoke was forming it into literally hundreds of Kalastiel. Scott had about fifty humans awake, about half, and the Kalastiel outnumbered them three to one in about fifteen minutes.

Jordan looked around nervously, as Onthamar began going about and waking them up.

“Scott, are you sure about this?” he said nervously. '”What if we have to fight them?”

“I'm trusting them.” Scott said. “It's never been tried before. And this war has never been won before. I'm willing to risk it if there can be peace. This is a big place, and I see room for the Kalastiel as well as humans. Can you not, as well?”

Jordan walked over to Flindair and stroked it's trunk. It was a different species than Sononia, but they matched, and neither seemed to be in competition for nutrients or sunlight, even though they grew quite close together.

“The trees can live together in peace.” he concluded. Scott nodded.

“That's why I don't regret my choice.” he said. “I trust them, Jordan. They won't betray us.”

“Those ones will.” Jordan said, nodding at the sleepers. The Council, and those loyal to them. “Let's kill them, before they kill us.”

“I can't.” Scott said, simply. “I'm not a murderer.”

“You killed Gregoir.” Jordan pointed out.

“After he made a direct threat against those I love.”” Scott retorted.

“What do you think those two bullets this morning were?” Jordan retorted. “This is an act of self defense.”

“Killing someone in their sleep?” Scott said softly.

“They would prefer to kill you in YOUR sleep.” Jordan told him flatly. “Far less risky that way.”

“I still can't do it.” Scott said. “I can't condone it, either.”

“Then wake them up.” said Jordan, sounding disgusted with the whole thing. “Better that than letting the Moverts have them.”

Onthamar came over to them. “Are the humans ready? The Moverts will come very soon now.” He gestured at the ones still asleep under the Trees.

“This one-” Scott pointed at Jordan, “Thinks we should kill all of those before we begin.” Scott said. “He fears them in our own world.”

“Is that your Council and their followers?” Onthamar asked. Scott nodded that yes, it was. “Kill them.” the Kalastiel hissed. “Kill them and be done with it. They have never been friend to the Kalastiel.”

Scott sighed. “Kill half of them.” he said to Jordan. “If you truly think this necessary, killing half will send a powerful message, and weaken their regime drastically.”

“Yes sir.” Jordan smiled grimly, then nodded to one of his friends, and went over to talk to him.

“Letting even one of them live could mean your death in the other world.” Onthamar said, touching Scott's arm. “You saved my life on top of the Mountain. I would not see you die.”

Scott thought of the sniper bullet exploding the head rest into foam, and knew that the bullet had touched Emmanuel's hair on it's way out the back window. He closed his eyes and nodded.

Tiana clutched his arm. “Scott! My parents. Jerasen.” she said.

“Go wake them.” Scott told her. “I'll spare them for you.”

“Thank you.” she said, then ran off into the Trees.

Onthamar looked at Scott a long moment, then turned away. He said something in his own language that Scott didn't understand, and every Kalastiel there gave a rousing cheer.

“We fight with the humans next year!” he said, smiling broadly. “It is time for us to go. Our time here has been well spent, Scott Blaker of Flagstaff. Your trust in us will never be forgotten. Perhaps an end to the Was may be possible, after all.”

“Is it possible to Dream my way to the Kalastiel world?” Scott asked suddenly. “I should like to see the place you call home. I should think it very beautiful.”

Onthamar regarded him a long moment, then shook his head.

“I do not believe so.” he said at last. “But perhaps, the Song has merely yet to be Sung. Who can know these things?”

“Who indeed.” Scott agreed. “Perhaps it is a Song we could find together, you and me. I would Sing you to my home, as well, that we might understand one another better.”

“That, I should enjoy seeing, as well.” Onthamar smiled. “Never has there been a King Tree beside the Queen, and never before has there been a Grove such as this. The Power in both our peoples will be strong next year. Never before has the Movert been killed, either.”
“All this is new. Even the guidelines of what has gone before may no longer apply. This is an entirely new place you have brought us to, Kingmage for Humankind, and there are no footprints in the sand to follow. We foray into unexplored territory, you and I. I had not thought the Humans worthy to walk the path with us, but in you, I see that is untrue.”
“Unkind, even. I see the ones you choose, the ones who stand with you. Human numbers have been cut by half or more, this night, and at your own hand, but you have my own promise as Kingmage for Kalastiel, that what few humans remain here in Dreamland will be strengthened tenfold by what has passed here this day.”

There was excited shouting from outside the ring of stones, Kalastiel voices, and it was obvious that the Moverts had come.

Everyone ran to their places, Jordan and Scott taking the gaps between the boulders, and looking outward, all the other humans standing in a line at the rear.

The Kalastiel went out onto the plains, forming a line three deep with long branches Sung from the Grove for staffs, spears, and shields. Both Scott and Jordan could see that the plan was to drive them over the cliff, forcing the Moverts, in their headlong rush down the Mountain to curve to the left side, or be impaled on a forest of spears. There was another line of Kalastiel, a shorter one, to prevent any Moverts from flanking the spear and shield wall and taking them from behind.

It was a good plan, one that took strong advantage of the natural features found in the landscape. Scott had chosen well when he stopped here, and almost everything went according to plan.

A significant part of the Moverts had fed on human flesh, and they were far more cunning than the horde of their kin. They knew to conserve their strength and not rush headlong down the hill en masse. They remembered the Grove, hidden by the three huge boulders, and they remembered the cliffs just beyond.

There were about forty of them altogether, led by the biggest and smartest of them all. They were not keen on following directions, and trusted one another not at all, but they knew that to have any hope of survival of their species was in cooperation.

These crept down the hill, and watched the slaughter of the thousands by the strange legged warriors. They found the crack in the hill where the cliff had split and formed the hidden passage, and silently climbed down to the bottom.

Only an excited hoot by the first one down gave the humans any warning at all what was about to befall them. The line of humans guarding the back of the Grove saw movement down the line of the cliff, and all were ready, or so they thought.

Forty or more great, powerful Moverts rushed the line, ignoring the spears that impaled them in their hatred, and drove their own bodies further onto the sticks in order to slash and rend the humans holding them.

Scott and Jordan both saw the attack, and they saw humans falling before the raging attack. They looked at each other and nodded, racing across the Grove and killing Moverts with every blow of their staffs.

A light surrounded them, and their weapons, and power surged through their arms and legs as they kicked and hacked the green monsters to pieces. A complete calm had taken over both men, and they worked together seamlessly to save the Trees from harm.

A handful of the Moverts had hung back from even this attack, and as their compatriots fell, one by one, they slipped back out of sight and crept back up the Mountain.

The sun was setting, and the Battle was over, out on the Plains, as well as in the Grove. The Kalastiel came back in, almost all of them, and they saw the four fallen humans at the base of the cliff. There was complete silence in the Grove as people, human and Kalastiel alike, began to lay down to sleep and mist away into the ground.

Onthamar, Scott, Tiana, and Jordan stayed awake long enough to stand together in a small circle and enjoy a moment of bonding, but none wanted to break the Silence that honored their dead. Onthamar was the first to nod, and went under Sononia to sleep himself back to his other body.

Tiana was the next, and Scott and Jordan looked at each other a long moment.

“Stay in Flagstaff. I'm coming to you.” he said, then went to lay down himself. Scott joined him, and the world faded away.
3 comments

Robn68Report 

2015-03-08 12:05:38
Dear Impax;
Please don't stop. I just found your stories today. You have a unique story line here with these trees. I have not read one like this. So please continue on. I am so looking forwards to seeing what may occur.

Sincerely: Bea

Anonymous readerReport 

2015-03-06 05:09:09
I am enjoying this story, just came across it. please continue. So many with a good start never finish.

ImpaxReport 

2015-03-04 00:37:14
Hunh, looks like ppl don't like this story as much. I'm basing this on the # of views it's gotten, not the votes. Seems like I've got a dedicated following of 4 that don't like my stories and give the negs. C'est la vie, neh? Or is that c'est la guerre?

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