“This is your last warning.” I voiced, my words echoing with dull intent.

Before I could offer him or any of them a taste of pain, the floor beneath my would-be assailants cracked, splitting apart underneath their feet. It happened so fast that they couldn’t find purchase against any other surface, and they screamed as they fell into a whirlpool of sinking mud and gravel underneath the cobble sidewalk, their heads and outstretched hands disappearing under the ground within moments.

I swallowed, barely wrapping my head around the sight of the smooth, unblemished courtyard that appeared, for better or worse, like nothing had happened to it. The prerequisites to this phenomenon drew a distinct line towards one type of Magic Blood: Dryad.

The very notion of what I knew to be true kept on jabbing against my skull with explosive force. Every bone in my body shuddering as I snapped my head around the market, scanning for the elusive Dryad in Blackswallow City whose presence I hadn’t picked up on…

I broadened my senses, trying to get a feel for her. But my magic and my internal compass didn’t whisper of her location.

“Galadryn!” I screamed, calling out amidst the faces now pouring out around me.

She’d been here. I was sure of it.

Dragging people into the ground wasn’t a seamless or easy ability, particularly if it disrupted several layers of earth. It took tremendous power and concentration, and commendable practice to put the land back together, as if the rift had never occurred in the first place.

My sister. She was capable.

Galadryn of all people, she was the only one who could do this and walk away without breaking a sweat.

As Dryads, we all had baseline magic that we could perform, but some had unique abilities that were the result of our own mastery or congenital talent.

Galadryn was one of those distinctive Dryads. There weren’t many who knew how to drain the life force of trees and redirect it into living beings – or had the mental acuity or range of magical abilities that she alone possessed.

Almost a millennium ago, a horrific slaughter of our kind had nearly wiped us all out, reducing us a sparse number. It was a ‘Nameless War’ in our history, but we’d nearly been depleted, the Original Elders of our kind massacred by the Orcs of Truske Mhordale, leaving Galadryn and a few others as the sole survivors of her coven.

Combining their magic, they’d vanquished the leftover forces of the Orcs. And perhaps it was the over-excess of malice in the air that had called out to me one night and summoned me into existence.

Because my spirit had awakened in the grove, my soul seeking a form.

Inevitably, as the years went by, Galadryn would come to learn about the gruesome fates of her other siblings one by one: Slaughter by Orc, death by vengeful human. Eaten by a Faerie-bear.

All the teachings and ancient practices of the Original Elders existed only in her memories now; she’d barely spoken of them in passing to Anixae and I, as if her past was something that haunted her.

A sense of calm had returned to the townsfolk and merchants breezily came out of hiding, their stiff movements revealing their relieved faces as they unfolded from crouched positions. Noise and revelry returned to the city as if there were never any conflict.

The troublemaking horde had been buried by Dryad magic – but even in death, their snuffed-out souls still were still singing from the ground, bleeding into the atmosphere of Blackswallow City. Because of the energy of the city, their torment was amplified tenfold…

I felt the raucous from their wisps of magic very keenly like a cluster of wasps razing my skin. The sensation was nearly flaying me alive, evolving into a burn that wouldn’t allow me to focus, wouldn’t let me breathe. And I staggered backwards as the earth rumbled with displeasure at swallowing yet another handful of bodies, the graveyard under the city growing–

Clutching my chest in shock, I dropped to my knees, overwhelmed, listening to the land speak in quick, discontented tones throughout my head, my surroundings fading into unimportance.

If I’d known what lurked below… I wouldn’t have engaged with them.

This land was sentient, and it wasn’t thrilled in the least at being dragged into a quarrel between Magic Bloods; it was deemed beneath it, and understandably so, which was why I was being admonished so strongly.

The headache that formed at my expense was unnerving. It felt like hammers pounding away at my temples, a sharp ringing in my ears that made me grimace and hunch my shoulders.

I was so distracted by my physical pains that I’d barely noticed the shadow stopping in front of me. A hand touched my shoulder and jerked me upright, commanding my attention immediately.

My strained eyes fell onto the face of a smouldering beauty. The Seer.

“Walk with me, Dryad. We have an appointment to keep, do we not?” she chided.

My legs were incapable of supporting my weight at this point and I was simply too incapacitated to try; except her delicate hands somehow grasped my elbow and brought me to my feet in a swift tug. She wasn’t asking for my consent, she ostensibly proved that she needn’t go through a tedious process when I was in such a state anyway.

I huffed and allowed her to steer me away from where the conflict had taken place, my physical pain ebbing away with the growing distance. In time, I began to feel steady enough to stumble out of her hold and adjust my clothes, my indignant grimace at being jostled so publicly by the Seer like a burning brand in my mind.

She just grinned in the corner of my vision and continued to walk beside me as we strolled down a stony path, the townsfolk eyeing us in a somewhat guarded manner while I continued to search for things to say.

Eventually, I turned to her, frustration driving the words straight from my chest in a rapid barrage, “Who are you? Why were you with those Magic Bloods? I’ve done nothing wrong, Seer.”

“Indeed.” She muttered quietly.

I sneered at her, “I’ve met a few of your kind, you know. All so very cryptic when you don’t need to be. Just get to the point and tell me what you want.”

“The war has changed you, Dryad.”

I shut down. If there was anything at all on my face, I tucked it away. My hands were clenched at my side, and I stepped into her space, leaning close enough to brush my nose against hers. Those searching eyes of hers were a storm of violet and they clashed with mine as I stared at her unflinchingly, wanting to know exactly what her motives were.

After a moment, I added, “Well, what do you want?”

“You were meant to be going to the Sorcerer’s apothecary.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Seer. I don’t like to repeat myself.”

“What happened to your mandates of pacifism? Dryads were the true peacekeepers back in the day. Surely you remember, before–”

Lightning quick, I pulled out her hairpin and pushed the pointed tip against the bottom of her throat. “You seem to be referencing the olden days a lot, Seer. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get a rise out of me. Now, I’ll ask you once again: What do you want?”

Her face was like the sun, luminous and radiant. She was excited by my teeth-barring anger; I could barely hold myself in check and it didn’t seem to bother her one bit.

She stepped back, reclaimed her hairpin and carefully redid her hair. After a moment, she said, “Dryad. You are a rare subspecies. Not your kind of Magic Blood, but your lineage. And that’s all I’ll say on that. We were meant to meet like this… Anyways, let’s go see your sister Anixae. I assume you were on your way to see her?”

I shook my head. “You’re not going anywhere near her. Not until you tell me what you want.”

“I want what you want. You want to recover the Omnisong. You want to know why Galadryn acted against the interests of the entire continent, putting your world in mortal danger – and you want a clean conscience after what you did in the war. You want purpose, and a life that doesn’t make you want to howl with emptiness as soon as you wake up. And ultimately you want… for humankind and Magic Bloods to live in harmony. Well, what if I told you that such things weren’t impossible?” She said, baiting me with a coy smile.

“You play with fire, Seer. I’m not in the mood to indulge in your cryptic word play anymore. You’ve wasted enough of my time. I must find my sister. Good day.” I turned to leave, but before I could take a step, the Seer was on the other side of me.

“I mean you no harm, Doralis. Consider me an expert in all things related to the Second Uprising’s agenda. We should have a chat, don’t you think? I can help you with your problem. The Omnisong should be everybody’s priority. You know better than anyone what that weapon is capable of. Don’t be stubborn, Dryad.”

Her voice was compelling. I didn’t mistake that her voice sounded more like a command, even if it was sweet and covered in honeyed tones. I made a face and walked off, neither acknowledging nor dismissing her closeness at my side as we walked to Rizzaget’s in mutual silence.

I’d had enough excitement for one day. I was still hungry and depleted and now I had to find my sister before Rizzaget turned her into a piece of furniture.