The Living Young Tree (6)
The earth spirits had been stacked up nice and neat.
When the pebbles were arranged into a pyramid, the pile stood about as tall as the little girl herself.
The Pebble Girl tried climbing it. The pebble pyramid didn't budge an inch. Anyone glancing over would have thought they were just... pebbles.
The little girl's face clouded with dissatisfaction.
She glanced back and forth between the water spirits bouncing freely around the forest clearing and the earth spirits just sitting there in a pile, and her expression grew even sourer.
The earth spirits really do seem to lack initiative.
The water spirits had spread across the entire village on their own, even after Water Drop Girl made them as a passing amusement and abandoned them to their own devices.
Sure, the elves passing by would snatch one up and put it to use as a tool, but they were active enough to roam around unprompted.
The water management at the Four Seasons Orchard, for instance, required no village-level arrangements whatsoever. It simply took care of itself, what with the water spirits wandering over to play and deciding to live there.
Now that she'd actually made them, the Pebble Girl seemed distinctly unimpressed with her earth spirits—which, just like her, lacked any drive and needed one extra measure after another to get anything done.
Isn't that a bit of prejudice against your own kind?
―If we want them scattered everywhere, enough that the villagers can call on one in your place whenever the need arises, I think we'll have to move them one by one.
The Pebble Girl's face abruptly shifted to one of profound inconvenience. She assembled a few more, gave up entirely, and trudged off toward her wooden bed.
The little girl lay down on it and simply went to sleep.
She'd made them to reduce the amount of being hauled around, only to find it had made things more bothersome—so apparently her solution was to just nap first and ask questions later.
Well, life gets easier only after you suffer for a while. It's true that the more you suffer, the more work piles up and the easier days recede over the horizon, but still.
One of the water spirits came bouncing over to the pebble pyramid.
It circled the thing like a tourist at a landmark, then climbed up over the pebbles to the very summit.
Conquering the peak, the water spirit stretched its droplet body out grandly, then pulled it back in.
It looked for all the world like it was shouting, I am the king!
Yes, yes. You be the king.
I should call for Thermia and get these pebbles distributed around the village. If we acclimate them to village life little by little, the way we did with the water spirits, that ought to work, shouldn't it?
Then again, what do earth spirits even like? It won't be plain pure water, that's for sure.
Don't tell me they like sleeping?
Nooo way.
I can't exactly pay them for their labor in naptime.
A gut feeling told me this would not be easy.
Actually, forget gut feeling—one look was enough to know it wouldn't be easy at all.
#
Priest Dahlia leaned down to examine the pebble on the table.
"So this is an earth spirit?"
The Holy Kingdom's priest was fascinated.
"The Young Tree shaped two spirits from nature itself, you see. This is a lesser spirit that those two created."
Thermia, looking rather pleased with herself, moved the brush in her hand. The bristles swayed and tickled the pebble. She did this for a while, and when no reaction came, she set the brush down and recorded the result of the experiment.
"No reaction to tickling, hm. Priest Dahlia, how do you suppose one would go about communicating with an earth spirit?"
"Could one not speak to it as one would speak to animals or plants?"
"I've tried, but I can't sense any uineom—any transmitted intent."
"What is uineom, exactly?"
"It's a concept the Young Tree uses. I roughly understand it as meaning 'heart' or 'mind.' Shall we try again?"
Thermia bowed her head and pressed her forehead against the pebble. It was a rather comical scene, but both Thermia and Dahlia were utterly serious.
"How is it?"
"Ah—I feel nothing at all. Earth spirits are hard to reach, aren't they."
"Perhaps press your forehead more firmly against it?"
"Let's try."
Thermia rubbed her forehead against the pebble until it turned red.
"Spirit, can you hear me? If you can hear me, please respond."
How should I put this.
It really was a comical scene, yes.
―Excuse me.
"Oh! Yes! Please, go ahead."
Thermia hastily raised her head and stared into empty air. Priest Dahlia, visibly tense, glanced awkwardly around at nothing in particular.
―About that pebble.
"Yes?"
―That's just a pebble.
Yes. It is, in fact, just a pebble.
―Not an earth spirit. Just an ordinary, round little pebble. It looks similar, so I expect someone mistook it and picked up the wrong one.
Thermia froze solid.
With a trembling gaze, she looked down at the plain old stone.
"B-but I've been running experiments on this all day."
My condolences.
"So that's why there wasn't a single reaction! I did find it strange that nothing happened even when I placed it up high. I wondered if perhaps earth spirits simply had different tastes."
Thermia collapsed where she stood, sunk in despair.
"Oh dear. Well, I suppose this counts as experience too, doesn't it?"
Priest Dahlia smiled warmly and patted her on the back.
"Uuuugh."
Thermia recovered in no time at all.
She wrote just a rock on the entry for the rock that was just a rock, then placed a genuine earth spirit on the table.
"By the way, Priest, you're staying at the inn, aren't you?"
"That is correct."
"If you'll be staying in the village for a while, would you care to lodge at our house? It would be a bit cramped if more of the Holy Kingdom's people arrive, but we do have a spare room."
"Is that so?"
Priest Dahlia considered it.
"There is something I must discuss with you regarding my arrangements."
Her gaze drifted awkwardly toward the empty air.
"O Young Tree, are you still present with us?"
―Yes, go ahead.
"Priest Borlidon wishes to pay his respects. What are your thoughts on the matter?"
Apparently her mental state had recovered just fine.
―I don't mind either way.
Before long, Priest Borlidon set out toward the back of the village.
His ample frame, whether from a life of greedy feasting or simple lack of exercise, dripped with sweat as he climbed the hill.
"This isn't the straight path, is it? The Young Tree is right over there—why do we head this way?"
A thick hand pointed accusingly at my branches, displayed openly against the sky.
"You're sweating, Your Holiness. There's a hot spring nearby—wash up before you go up. One cannot presume to appear before the sacred tree with neither a clean body nor a clean heart."
"Mmmph."
His lack of exercise really is something else.
Then again, that's partly because he hasn't received the benefit of my miracles.
Do the high-ranking priests of the Holy Kingdom live lives wealthy enough to qualify for a greed assessment? They must live no differently from nobles.
Having finished a hot spring soak with luxury soap, Priest Borlidon stepped into the forest clearing still sweating. A handkerchief dabbed at his forehead.
Come to think of it, maybe it was nerves. His trembling gaze kept sweeping over me with nowhere to settle.
Priest Borlidon spoke, his lips quivering.
"O Young Tree?"
I gently shaped my transmitted intent into words.
―Speak freely. Trees don't eat people.
After the exchange of courtesies and a little while longer, Priest Borlidon regained his composure. That I had helped him along by infusing my gaseous mana with transmitted intent was a secret.
"Might I be so bold as to ask a question?"
―You needn't be bold about it. If something puzzles you, just ask.
Priest Borlidon exhaled slowly and looked straight at me.
"Are you an apostle sent down to the earth by the Sun God?"
So that's the conclusion he'd reached.
I don't know the Sun God. If I were to answer, the right thing would be to say no. How could I be an apostle of someone I've never even met?
But.
―I don't know.
If the Sun God truly existed, the answer would not be a simple one.
―I have never met the Sun God you worship. Never once exchanged words with him. And yet—how many beings on this earth receive the sun's grace as fully as I do?
As if to show him, I spread every one of my branches wide. Countless leaves rustled and broke into song. Sunlight poured down between the leaves, bathing the ground in light.
Priest Borlidon, staring upward in a daze, shielded his eyes against the brilliance.
What should I say to him?
―While your people have been staying in the village, I read the Holy Kingdom's scriptures. Though I may not practice them all, there was much good in them. Except for one thing, I agree with nearly every teaching.
Fitting for the scripture of a religion that won its religious wars, there were a great many fine words indeed. Religion, after all, exists to awaken people with words that run ahead of the world.
"...And what, may I ask, is that one thing?"
―I do not call people slaves.
Priest Borlidon fell silent.
I waited, and slowly the words came.
"I shall include that portion in my report to the Grand Temple."
―Yes, do as you like.
It isn't a matter of great importance.
―More to the point—while everyone's eyes were fixed on the eastern rebellion, you all declared you would launch a territorial war, as a coalition, against the Count nearby who stands alone in calling for the abolition of slavery. What do you intend to do about that?
Priest Borlidon hesitated. Wiping the flowing sweat with an unsteady handkerchief, he said,
"You may not like it, but this matter was decided by the Grand Temple. My withdrawal would not change that decision. Another priest would simply come in my place."
Well, that's fair enough.
―I see. Understood. Go attend to your duties, then. I shall attend to mine.
Priest Borlidon's sweat came down in streams.
"P-perhaps... could we pretend you did not hear that? I would be happy to offer compensation."
Yoo-hoo, you think that's going to fly?
If you want to receive a miracle, go shed your greed first.
#
Summer passed, and deep autumn arrived.
Crimson foliage dyed the forest red.
The Holy Kingdom's party departed—Priest Dahlia excepted—and our village grew busy as well.
Ever since the King had eaten our fruit and very nearly fainted from how delicious it was, the royal household itself had come forward proposing trade.
Supplying the crown would make premium positioning easier and secure stable commerce.
We put off dealing with the nobles who whined and pined for fruit right now, and instead focused on systematizing quality control to meet royal standards.
Turning a backwater village's slapdash management methods into a proper system—even with Teacher drawing up a clear blueprint, it didn't come together as easily as expected.
But thanks to literacy rates having risen dramatically, we could pull people aside one by one, train them, and codify the management procedures into an organized framework. Steady progress was being made.
And just as our village was changing, so too did the kingdom's eastern rebellion shift.
The prepared royal army had finally launched its campaign to crush the revolt in earnest.
And today, at long last, the main host under the Crown Prince's command faced the rebel army across an open plain.
It was the result of aligned interests: a royal army eager to establish exactly who held the upper hand before the nobles could be courted any further, and a rebel army hoping to break the Crown's morale before reinforcements swelled its ranks.
"Whichever side wins this engagement will seize the momentum. If we lose, we'll spend the whole autumn merely containing the damage, and come winter, the rebellion will carry on comfortably into next year."
The Crown Prince, wearing the sword I had given him, looked down at the map as he explained it to me.
―Will you be all right? From what I hear, you're not superior in numbers, unlike what you were told.
According to Village Chief Eldrin, the rebel army was the hardened force of the eastern front—even with numerical superiority, they would be no pushover.
But with forces now split and dispatched to the rebel lords' own territories, the armies arrayed against each other here were of roughly equal size.
The enemy had hastily recalled their knight orders and sent them back to their own domains, so while we held the advantage in cavalry, every one of their foot soldiers was a veteran. Handle it carelessly, and they could devour us instead.
"If we did not grant the enemy an opening such as this, a grand engagement would be impossible. They would simply preserve their strength, hide behind their walls, and stall—and the rebellion would drag on and on."
And then other nations might intervene.
For now, the rebels seemed to be refusing other nations' self-proclaimed "friendly" offers in order to keep their legitimacy intact—but if the war dragged on, foreign powers could step in and tangle everything into a mess.
War, after all, is the continuation of politics. You can't fight only in whatever way is militarily convenient and ignore the politics.
Time passed, and the whole army finished its meal.
The cooking-fire smoke rising from the rebel camp died down. Across the plain, the armies began forming up for battle.
The infantry of both sides advanced, and the Crown Prince mounted his horse. Leading the knight order, he began circling toward the enemy's flank.
The foot soldiers crashed together, and battle was joined.
As the Crown Prince and the knights galloped, they popped the blessed orchard fruit into their mouths. Vigor surged through body and spirit, and a shine lit their eyes.
The flanking knight order drew near the enemy camp.
"Glorious knights of Edelgard!"
The Crown Prince raised the sword I had given him high as he rode.
"The sacred tree marches with us! Victory is ours!"
I poured my transmitted intent down upon them.
Light swept over the knight order.
My gaseous mana unfurled the divine domain zone.
"Crush those fools! All knights—charge!"
Visor lowered, the Crown Prince spurred his horse forward.
The armored knights, clad in arms and wrapped in light, thundered after him.
The racing wave of radiance slammed into the enemy line.
The formation buckled and screams rang out.
The knights of light carved the camp in two.