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15.62% The Dryad / Chapter 25: Dryad of the flames

Chapter 25: Dryad of the flames

It seemed that trying to teach Ivy more about being a dryad would have to wait until she had learned how to make and control fire. Something about this seemed really backwards to me. A dryad caring more about how to make a fire than taking care of plants? I guess tending a fire is somewhat of a novelty. All she has been doing for the last 700 years is taking care of plants, albeit a little ineffectively. In some ways that is even worse than me being stuck at the pond for 500 years. I could only sigh remorsefully to myself. I really was not any better, I had not left the woods for a thousand years.

I was still sitting around the first fire that they had used to cook there breakfast on. As I watched, Ivy and Leafia walk a little way off to a clear spot of ground to work on building a second fire for Ivy's practice. Ivy was really in high spirits at doing something different for the first time in a long time. I at least had memories from the previous times I had left the forest. She had not had the opportunity to make those kind of memories yet. I should let her experience things she wants for a change of pace. Besides, there were things that I could do to help her while she was playing.

I caused some of the bark of my paper birch 'clothing' to start to peel off. Once it got to a good size I broke it off. I put the end of a small branch near me in the fire for a few moments until the end was blackened. I waited a minute after I took it out of the fire to make sure the end was not too hot. Then I started to write. I was going to make a list of things that she could work on to increase her strength and enlarge her reserve.

I had wondered from time to time to time why all of the spirits knew how to speak and read from the time they became self aware. I had a feeling that it had something to do with Mother Earth. My guess was that she imbued this knowledge into the spiritual essence encompassing this land. This would explain this knowledge existing in all of us, since it was this spiritual essence that collected to form us.

The other option was that she had her hand involved in the formation of each of us and implanted that knowledge in us while we coelessed from the energies of the world. This seemed less likely to me since it would be so much work for her to have a part in the creation of every sprite. I knew that if anyone was involved with this it had to be Mother Earth. The Great Nyad was not caring enough about anyone, especially us on land, to bother giving us that knowledge. Since they were the only two older than me it really only left Mother Earth.

I did learn a lot watching Mist form a hundred years ago. However, I did not want to mess with her development so I did not probe too deeply. But I could tell that the process was complex. It involved many more steps than I imagined. At first I thought it was just spiritual essence gathering together into one spot then >poof< you have a sprite. Instead, I could feel that the dense spiritual essence was being organized and transformed by some hand. I should ask Mother Earth next time I see her. She would probably come if I asked her to, but I did not want to bother her. I was sure she was busy. She had much more to look after than me.

Writing with a stick was getting frustrating. I could only write a few lines before I would have to put it back in the fire and then I would have to let it cool down. I let out a heavy sigh as I once again needed to put it back in the fire. I had been making a good point while I was writing. I was not sure if I could remember exactly how I wanted to write it when the stick was ready. Every time I had to stop to prepare the stick my mind got side-tracked with things. Like about why I could write in the first place while never being taught. As I reached out to put the stick back in the fire, I saw that a prepared stick had been placed right next to me.

Looking up I saw Istan had several sticks in the fire preparing. I guess some good things can come from his over-attentiveness to me. "I thought that you would be able to get more done if I help preparing the pencils for you. Whatever you are writing must be very important for you to sacrifice part of yourself to write it."

Part of me really wanted to roll my eyes at him. If we could get him to shut his mouth a little sooner there would be nothing wrong with him. I forced myself to resist and sincerely thanked him.

So what was I wanting to say again? Oh yes, I was about to tell Ivy how to practice increasing her reserve. The method was not hard, but it took time. There was no quick fix. The only way I knew to improve was by using your reserve. She needed to use all her reserve and then let it recover and do it over and over again. But it was not that simple. If you really want it to be effective you need to make sure you go as far as you can. When you think you have pushed as far as you can, pause for a second and then try again. You will find that there was a little that you could not get the first time. You keep doing that until there really is nothing left. After that you meditate to regain your reserve quickly and do the same thing. Once you think you can not absorb any more you pause for a moment and try again. As you keep this up your power will increase.

Writing was really going faster with Istan's help. Not only did I not need to wait for the writing implement, I think he called it a pencil, to be ready, the ones that he made wrote better and longer than what I was able to make. I really do not have much experience with fire. I also noticed my mind is wandering much less now that I did not have to take so many breaks. I should find some way to thank Istan later. Is there something I can do for him that won't be blown out of proportion…? Maybe I had better stick with just saying thank you. Now I was the one holding me up from writing as fast as I could, because every so often, I would have to stop to grow a new piece of paper.

About an hour after I started, I looked up to see Ivy doing a funny dance around a fire. I am guessing that Leafia had managed to teach her how to make the fire. The dance Ivy performed really reminded me of the early humans. Now that the fire was going, it seemed like Leafia was trying to calm her down enough to show her how to start making the porridge.

Before I continued writing I made another sheet of paper for Istan. "Please write down how to make fire and porridge for her. I have a feeling she is a little flighty and might forget after a few decades."

I looked over at Istan who was holding the bark like it was the most important thing in the world. "Don't get any funny ideas. It is really just bark from a birch tree."

"But-"

"No buts. Please write for me."

"How could this be simple bark? You made it."

I really could do with less devotion. I leaned over to the side and put the pages I had been working on under a small rock so they did not blow away. I let out my power and the world shimmered around me and appeared to recede. Before long I had stretched out to reach over most of the trees in the forest. I transformed myself into a birch tree nearly ten people tall. I shook my branches and let some sticks fall to the ground. Birches really do shed a lot. I also made sure plenty of bark peeled off my trunk and larger branches. I could use some of that bark later to finish what I was writing. As I stretched up to the sky, Istan managed to fall even from his seated position.

I decided to try something Ivy had shown me. You were never too old to learn things. Even from the youngest of people. It took a couple tries to figure it out, but I managed it. "You and your family could search for 10 generations, until these branches turn back to dirt, and you would never be able to tell the difference between the branches I dropped and those from any other birch tree." After Istan managed to close his mouth he nodded mutely and seemed slightly sullen. It felt rather odd to speak as a tree. It tickled a little, just like humming sometimes did. Why did I bring my vision up with me as I grew? I usually kept it near eye level. I guess I wanted Istan to feel like I was towering over him. But there was no way for him to tell where I was focusing my attention and from what angle.

The fire near my base was starting to flare up a little with some of the branches and bark that fell into it. Seems that I was playing with fire, too. Dryads and fire- who would have guessed this would happen? It was not that comfortable growing over a fire, but I did remember to not grow any branches too close to it, so it was not that bad.

I 'glanced' over at Leafia and Ivy. I saw the pot for the porridge was on the ground near Ivy's feet. I really did not mean to startle them. Looks like I might have overdone it again. I could have just turned into a younger tree that was only 3 or 4 people tall.

I turned back to my normal self and was sunk slightly into the dirt that was disturbed by my tree self. After getting myself out of the small pit I turned to Leafia and Ivy. "I am sorry for ruining your food."

Ivy did not seem to care. It looked like there were stars in her eyes. "That was so amazing. You can turn into such a magnificent tree in just a second. Will I be able to do that?"

"If you work hard and grow stronger you will be able to do more than this. And sorry, I should have asked before I used so much energy from your home." I did not think clearly and most of the spiritual energy used to transform came from her forest.

"It was worth it to see that. Anyway, I think the benefits you are giving to my forest since you arrived will more than make up for this."

I guess I never went back my fully suppressed state. It felt better this way. And though I was absorbing power from the forest, the forest was being strengthened and fortified by my presence. This would allow Ivy to draw more from it in the long run.

Seeing that Ivy was not upset, I said, "Well finish learning how to make porridge so I can teach you more about your powers." Ivy and Leafia finally looked down at their feet and started trying to salvage what they could.

I found a good spot to sit down and finish what I was writing. But before I got started I handed Istan a pencil. He took the pencil and the bark and started writing, though I could still sense there was some reluctance and reverence for the paper in front of him.


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