Thalira Estom, 17, Human-Hybrid Dryadkin (Wildborn)
Hours had passed since the women had been swallowed by the earth, their bodies sinking into the soil as if the forest itself cradled them. Thalira's hands hovered above the ground, her focus absolute. When she willed it, the earth responded, slowly stirring, shaking, and finally lifting the women from their subterranean embrace.
As they emerged, the transformation was breathtaking. The children remained sleeping, unaware of what was taking place.
The dull, weakened coats that had once clung limply to their bodies shimmered now with vitality. Fur glistened under the moonlight, thick and rich, glowing faintly with the life of the earth. Their limbs, once thin and fragile, had grown strong and lean. Their posture straightened, shoulders lifting as if the forest itself had infused them with resilience. Vein-like patterns, twisting and winding like living roots, glowed faintly beneath their skin, pulsing with earthen energy. Even their antlers gleamed—darker, smoother, stronger, radiating the same vigor as the rest of them.
Some women wept, touching arms, faces, and torsos with trembling hands, overwhelmed by the newfound strength. Others embraced one another, laughter and tears mixing as excitement filled the air. A few kneeled before Thalira, eyes wide with awe, silence stretching as their gratitude anchored them in place.
"May Lior bless you as our Eryndra," the women said in unison, their voices soft but firm. Their recognition of Thalira as their leader—their chief—was complete, undeniable.
⸻
Esmer, Kingdom of the Elves
"My lord!" a researcher shouted as he dashed into the king's office, only to be restrained by the guards at the door. His robes were dusty, papers clutched tightly to his chest, hair disheveled as if he had run without pause.
"What is it, Ainer?" Moerin, King of the Elves, sighed, glancing over the thin gold-wire glasses perched on his nose. His long blonde hair fell over his shoulders, framing jade-green eyes heavy with fatigue from constant overwork.
"There was a shift in the earth, my lord," Ainer said, voice trembling.
"A shift?" Moerin asked, disinterested. He gestured to release the researcher. Despite his usual distaste for disorder, he allowed Ainer to speak.
"Yes, sire. A strong wave of earth energy was detected by our elementals." He handed the documents to Moerin, who leaned back, scanning the papers with deliberate slowness.
"Hmmm... Amorian."
"Yes, sire."
"And what of it?" Moerin's voice carried the weight of skepticism.
Ainer's hands trembled as he flipped through the pages. "As we know, Dryads inhabit Amorian."
"Yes, and Dryads are spirits of the trees. I fail to see where this is going, Ainer."
"But sire... you are forgetting the tribe of Wildborn who also live there."
"What does a tribe on the brink of extinction have to do with this?" Moerin asked, his patience thinning.
"They are the only species capable of becoming one with nature itself."
Moerin's interest flickered.
"Correct, sire," Ainer continued, swallowing nervously. "And because of their human heritage, they are not bound to be mere spirits of the forest. They are capable of becoming the embodiment of nature itself."
Moerin rose abruptly, Moerin rose abruptly, a devilish smile curling at his lips. "We can use them against those selfish Dryads."
Immediately, he summoned his advisors. Plans would be drawn. Strategies considered. The Wildborn could be weapons, and Moerin intended to wield them.
⸻
Three Weeks Later
"Thalira's back! Thalira's back!"
Children's voices rang through the forest as she emerged from the woods. Three weeks of constant movement, evasion, and survival had brought them here, ever closer to Vorensia—the dangerous forest of the Drow. Falis still hunted them relentlessly, and Thalira had no desire for confrontation in the open. I'd rather take my chances with some Dark Elves... she thought wryly.
The children rushed toward her. Emish clung to her leg, while Roha and Caerin wrapped themselves around her waist. Roha, seven, and Amisna's daughter, hung on tightly, her small weight almost tipping Thalira backward. Caerin, eleven, and the younger sister of Meini's deceased husband, pressed her arms gently against Thalira, careful and steady, giving her a moment of balance.
Mesno and Bai lingered nearby. Mesno greeted her warmly, smiling freely. Bai, older and more obstinate, stood arms crossed behind his head, pretending to ignore the reunion.
"If you're trying to be nonchalant, it's not working," Thalira teased.
"You shut up," Bai muttered, brow furrowed.
SMACK. Vorani's hand connected with the side of his head.
"You apologize to the rooted one this instant."
"But manma—"
"I don't want to hear it."
Mesno turned, hiding a grin, while Thalira stuck out her tongue at Bai, who muttered a reluctant, "I'm sorry." Vorani cupped her ear dramatically, pretending not to hear.
Thalira chuckled softly, letting the moment pass. The older boy stayed close to the men by choice; the women's renewed strength made even him hesitate.
"I'm so sorry about him, Eryndra," Vorani said, softening. "Ever since his father—"
"It's completely okay," Thalira replied, smiling. "I understand. Children test limits... I raised my siblings when my mother wasn't around."
I wonder if Odane passed his exams, she thought, the memory briefly tugging at her chest. Cloud peeked from the pouch, noting the flicker of sadness but staying silent.
Vorani shook off the moment, "Let's head back to camp, ye?"
She marched forward with one hand gripping the buck slung over her shoulder and the other pushing Bai ahead of her, just in case he was thinking of causing trouble again.
Bai shot Thalira a quick look and dragged a finger across his throat in a dramatic imitation of being executed.
SMACK!
Vorani struck the top of his head without missing a step.
The entire group burst into quiet chuckles as Bai rubbed his head in defeat.
⸻
Vorensia – Forest of the Drows
"My liege," Faren bowed deeply.
"You may stand," Queen Isim gestured, rocking an infant on her lap. White hair framed her face in a delicate pixie cut, crystal light dancing across its curves.
"Thank you, my liege."
"Now, what is it?" she asked, eyes sharp, tone impatient.
"We've received reports of Dryads outside the forest," Faren said.
"Dryads? Outside Amorian?" The queen's curiosity was piqued. Her infant babbled happily, tugging at the necklace around her neck.
"Yes, my liege. However... we cannot track them."
"And why not?"
"It is as though the forest itself hides them."
The queen smiled faintly. "Well... Dryads are spirits of the forest."
"Yes, my liege... but this is different." Faren clapped sharply, and two guards brought in a scout, his foot trapped in a block of hardened earth.
"What is this?" the queen asked, stepping down from her throne, Prince Cohe secured safely with an assistant.
The scout rose awkwardly. "He got close to the Dryad while attempting capture," Faren explained. "His leg sank into the ground... before we could react, the forest swallowed her."
"Have you tried breaking it?" Isim asked, tapping the earth.
"It is like stone," the scout muttered. "We could only free him by sheer force."
"Dryads do not control the earth," she murmured, eyes narrowing. "If not Dryads... then what?"
She waved them away. "Keep watch."
The scout, still unsteady on his freed leg, scrambled out while Faren and the guards followed behind. The queen stared at the doorway, thoughts sharp. What are these creatures?...
⸻
Later That Night
Thalira and the women worked under the moon, carving meat with knives shaped from hardened earth. Their new abilities allowed them to manipulate soil texture and density, creating a rudimentary but effective kitchen. Tonight's meal was soup. Roots and tubers gathered earlier were chopped and simmered in clay pots atop the earthen stove.
Meini handed Thalira a cutting board. Today was a close call... Thalira thought.
"What was?" Cloud asked, voice popping beside her.
She froze. Hmm? I didn't say anything.
"Oh really?" His eyes narrowed, suspicious. "I'm one hundred percent sure."
"Have you forgotten my father is a god?" Cloud's tone carried a mix of exasperation and pride.
A glowing orb appeared, filling the air with light. Suddenly, enormous ocean-colored eyes stared back. "He—hello? Is this thing even on?"
Cloud sighed. "Father, lean back. You're too close."
This reminds me of video calling my parents... Thalira mused quietly.
She continued chopping, trying not to smile, as Cloud struggled with his father's exuberance.
"Thalira," Yesama called out as she added herbs to the simmering pot, "what's on your mind?"
"Oh... nothing," Thalira said, smiling faintly. Yesama's eyes gleamed knowingly.
"I know when you're lying."
How could I tell her I miss my real family? That I'm not actually who she thinks I am.
"I was just thinking about how we'll get through the Forest of the Drows," Thalira admitted finally.
"The forest with protect us." Yesama replied simply.
Like I didn't already know that, Thalira thought, wiping her expression.
"Lior will help us," Yesama added.
I wish, Thalira thought. She had already petitioned Lior for aid—just a simple teleport—but he refused.
Night deepened. The women and children gathered, standing barefoot on the soil. Eyes closed, they spread toes wide, pressing soles firmly into the earth.
Slow breath in. Slow breath out. Roots extending from your body into the soil... connecting, listening, feeling.
The ground responded. Small ripples of soil shifted under their feet. Step. Breathe. Listen. Move.
This would be their focus for the next days. If they hoped to cross Vorensia safely, they needed to move like the forest itself.
I cannot stay in one place longer than two days, Thalira thought, eyes sharp. The men are learning. I can't take any risks.