Chapter 23 The Wildings
We followed the Wilding into the undergrowth, beneath trees so tall they touched the sky. We came to a massive oak, barren of leaves. The trunk was full of burls and knots, gnarled so it looked old and weathered, yet incredibly sturdy.
Against the base of the trunk, was a door.
It was short, about the size of the Wilding, and yet when we approached it slowly stretched to the height of Brynn—the tallest in the group.
The door gave off a golden glow and it made me smile.
I wasn’t sure why, but something about the tree—and the door—made me tear up, like I was meeting with an old friend.
The Wilding stood back, motioning to the door.
I stepped forward and opened the door. Inside, was a long hallway.
It couldn’t possibly be contained within the tree, so it must be a parallel universe.
But I felt no danger, and I had the sense that—if this were dangerous—I would know. The tree would warn me.
I stepped through, and the others followed me, the Wilding bringing up the rear. But as the door closed behind us, the passage took on a glow of its own, and the creature made his way up to me, taking his place by my side.
He looked up at me. “How long have you lived in Abarria?”
I frowned. It seemed an odd question. “Not long,” I said. “We came in last week—”
“Came in from where? The Summer Kingdom?”
Startled, I shook my head. “No, we’re players in the game.”
“What game?” he asked.
And then it struck me. The Wilding didn’t know anything about the game.
The Syms had been generated and their whole existence was in the game.
They knew no life outside of here—and this was, indeed, their world.
Abarria might be the “world” of the game, but to the Wildings, at least, Abarria was no more than a country.
It occurred to me that we couldn’t say anything to the creatures we met. It might throw their programming off balance if they believed it, or if they didn’t—they’d think we were the crazy ones and that might go badly for us.
“Right…no, we’re from a distant land beyond the Great Sea.
We traveled a long, long way to visit here.
” I glanced back at the others. They appeared to be listening.
“Do you mind if I have a brief moment with my comrades?” I asked.
“I forgot to tell them something…it’s a health issue.
” I had no idea how other to phrase it. But I knew that I had to warn the rest of the group against outing our actual status.
“Of course, I’ll just wait up ahead a little bit.” He paused, then—in a nervous voice—asked, “You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”
I shook my head. “No, trust me, we’ll still hear you out, at the very least. I just…have to tell my friends something.”
The creature nodded and walked ahead a few paces.
I gathered the others together in a quick huddle. “Listen, he believes Abarria is real. All the monsters and other NPCs who aren’t actual employees—those who are Syms—will believe the same. This is their world. I don’t think it would be wise to tell them about the world being a game.”
Reggie quickly bobbed his head. “You’re right. Not a good plan. Unless we know they’re human, we keep our mouths shut about the outside world.”
“Got it,” Thornhold said. “Do you trust him?”
I nodded. “For some reason, I do. And I’d be the first to warn you off if I thought he was dangerous. I feel good about this, and this is the first time since we met Liesel that I’ve felt hopeful at all. I’d like to trust my instincts. They’ve been heightened ever since I came into the game.”
“All right, I trust your instincts, too,” Ray said. “And we’ll keep quiet about what we know about the game. I think you’re right.”
I turned back to the Wilding. “Thank you for waiting for us. We’re ready, now.”
He nodded at me, then stepped up the pace.
I wanted to ask where we were, but decided to wait for a bit.
Within five minutes we stepped through a door at the end of the corridor and into a huge underground village.
The cavern in which we were standing was huge, the end beyond our sight.
It was filled with sculptures from tree roots thrusting down through the ground, and stalagmites rising like glowing spirals, made of some shining rock that I’d never seen and suspected was a creation of the game.
In between the maze of twisting sculptures were houses from the size of a small tent to two story wonders.
I looked up, and the ceiling was at least thirty feet overhead, sparkling with glittering lights.
There was no vegetation here, except for the roots, but it was still like some ethereal garden carved from deep in the earth.
I froze, mesmerized by the beauty that spread out around us. “It’s…incredible,” I whispered.
The others were just as silent, gazing around, their eyes wide.
“Where is this?” I asked.
The Wilding’s chest spread as he beamed with what I assumed was a smile.
“This is the realm of the Crystal Faelings. We’re part of the world of rock and stone, crystal and bone.
We come from the soil and we pass to the soil.
We worship the Heart of the World, the Stone of Anderies.
We—” He paused. “Excuse me, it’s time for the afternoon song.
We sing to the world at the day’s beginning, the mid-day’s zenith, and the day’s end. ”
Reggie glanced around. “Should we move? Are we in the way?”
The Wilding shook his head. “No, you’re fine.
Just keep silent and don’t interrupt during the song and all will be well.
” He walked over to one of the stalagmites.
I noticed that many of the spiraling rock towers had polished flat surfaces that ranged from a few inches tall to two feet high, and they were big enough surfaces to be seats.
But instead of sitting, he knelt on one of the shorter ones, and placed his hands on the stalagmite. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the rock, and took hold of both sides with his hands.
The next moment, a deep booming sounded, three times.
And then, the air was filled with the sound of humming, a deep, resonate sound.
We looked around, seeing other creatures that looked vaguely like our guide, from his height to our own height, and they each had knelt on one of the numerous stalagmites, and their voices joined the song that rippled through the air, like concentric rings on water, reverberating out to fill the vast chamber with sound.
It was the hum of deep earth, the rumble of eons grinding on mountains, the sound of time flowing around us, sweeping us along in its ever-moving stream.
I felt the depths of the world surround me, so deep that I felt like I was melting into the magic, so rich and sturdy that I felt like I could never fall.
That as time passed by, I’d simply be absorbed into the ebb and flow of history, and nothing would matter anymore—neither good, nor bad—we would all join the past that built into the future.
A few moments later, the energy broke, abruptly releasing its hold, and I shuddered, realizing that I’d been captivated by the song as it passed through me. It felt as though I was waking up after a hundred years of slumber.
“I…I…” I looked around, noticing that all the Wildings were standing up, as though nothing had happened, and going about their business. I glanced at our friend. “What’s your name?” I asked.
His brow furrowing, he looked confused. “I am Wilding—I am one of the hive. One crystal in the geode.”
“Don’t you have any name…any word that designates you—separate from the others?”
After a moment, understanding crossed his fate. “Ah, our indicators. I am known as Sen-ti.”
Reggie let out a low breath. “That was incredible,” he said. “It was beyond beautiful.”
“It is the song of our people. The song of our hearts.” Sen-ti motioned for us to follow him. “Now, if you would come with me, I’ll introduce you to the Circle of Elders. They will explain what is happening. If you cannot help, I will take you back to the forest.”
I glanced around as we followed him to one of the bigger buildings.
All the houses seemed to be made of sandstone or clay or adobe—some such substance.
As I looked around, I knew, in my heart, that anybody hurting these creatures, the Wildings, needed to be stopped.
For I understood that the Wildings were nature incarnate, they were avatars of the world, and to hurt them, was to harm the world itself.