Spritelings Chapter 01

Barely aware of your surroundings, you hear the distant sound of something creaking and cracking, and of running water. While it might be tempting to ignore the sound and continue snoozing, a source of bright light - coming from the opposite direction - makes you fully awaken and fully perceive the environment.

You are lying on what seems to be a low tree stump - one nearly covered by the ground. A ring of dark, finger-like mushrooms encircles it. The wind is a bit chilly, but the tree stump seems to give off warmth. The ground around the stump is covered by melting snow. The low morning sun is shining brightly in the clear blue sky.

Standing tall above you there is an enormous dead tree - perhaps hundreds of times taller than some of you. Its trunk is much thicker than the little tree stump you're all gathered on. Though the tree looks charred, its branches are still thick and mighty, spread wide. To the east, whence the sun shines, there are many smaller but similarly charred dead trees - what used to be a very sparse forest. In the west, whence the sounds of water are coming, you can see two rivers joining into one and continuing onward to the west. The riverbank isn't far - perhaps a hundred yards or less, such that the big dead tree's branches just barely overlook the water. It is clear the river was until recently covered in ice, but now shards thereof are being carried by the current.

The furred snake waits to make sure the Elder Mushroom Ring doesn't have anything else to say and then examines her fellow creations.

"Then lets see what our surroundings look like."

and starts to climb up the large dead tree for a better view.

The overgrown beetle's first act as a thinking entity is to barrel into the tree's shadow, trying in vain to get the comforting imperceptiblity brought by shadow. But the beetle is too big, too loud; no matter how much they curl up, they're still seen.

Only once their instinctive reaction is rendered moot does the beetle observe their surroundings truly. The dead trees leave them shaky at the legs, but they manage to whisper a soft "Hello..."

Silence follows. Seems the beetle isn't taking the mantle of leadership.

"Wow, you're so big! That's so cool! says the marten that's been watching Bull the Beetle.

"Race you to the top of the tree?" They take off without waiting for an answer, moving surprisingly quickly for something that seems to be made of stone.

Noting Mara's speed of ascent "I'd have to work pretty hard to make it a race, but might as well have more sets of eyes up there"

Listen to what the ring has to say. Then stand up.

Looking like a bundle of twigs when lying down, Smaugalir first unfolds and stretches extensively. As the tree stump becomes emptier, there is more and more space. Only after every joint has been found to be functioning properly does attention turn to the outside world.

The idea of a climbing competition is rather pointless, but surveying the terrain from above is definitely an idea, so the spiritling also makes its way to the top.

Cold. Cold. Exposed! Scared. Scared. Bright!

A tiny spider clicks its mouth claws together. A lot of words happen very quickly, and while the spritelings were chosen for quick-thinking and ambulation, Nemma was definitely better at one than the other.

Calamity was a new word, but one she instantly understands. She adds it to a list of treasures. Calamity. Calamity.

The big one looms (looms! another new treasure!) while the others scamper away. Tries to hide in the roots of the tree. Good. Clever big shadow. Nemma has known safe big shadows before. The shaking is bad but the size is good.

She lets the others go high to the place where there are shadows of birds. Nemma waits in the shadow of the large one, a small thread tethering her to the ground, just in case.

After about a minute of climbing, it's clear Mara is about twice as fast as the others, and gets to see a bit more of the surroundings. There's still a long way up, but the shape of the island becomes possible to discern. Far to the north, a range of tall mountains becomes just about visible at the horizon.

The beetle isn't used to creatures being smaller than them. The beetle sees the little spider scurrying into the shadow and emphasizes. Slowly, shakily, the beetle reaches down with one arm and gives the spider a head pat.

"...hi."

Big move. Squish? Scared. Scared!

Nemma sidesteps, or sideskitters. There is a twinge of something, a word she doesn't have yet, when she sees a brief flash of surprise, or hurt, at her flinching. Notproud.

She looks at the outstretched arm and raises a pedipalp. New word, similar to many words. Diminutive for hello. Not same as "high" of tree, where the others are climbing. A vague memory of a big clumsy shadows calling out to each other: "Hi! Hello! Good morning! Good day for it, eh?"

She tries it out. "Hi?" she says, waving her pedipalp. It comes with a hiss and click, making it sound a bit more like "hike" than "hi", but it is good first try. Good feeling. Good word. Proud.

edited- cause I can't keep my girl's name straight.

Swaying branches, waving leaves.

Moved by the view from the top, sitting somewhere on one of the upper branches, a song is sung, a hymn in praise of life, of consciousness, a bow to the great circle that recognises the necessity of the mobile self.

From a rather calm, melancholic melody, the song develops into a heroic, motivating hymn of praise to the spirit world itself, especially the spiritlings present, and can still be recognised as such within the reach of the tree, even on the ground; a bow to those at the top and an invitation to those who are not yet there.

Indeed, motivating enough to substantially pick up the pace. "A fine overture to our mission"

Blessed by Smaugalir's song, in a mere four minutes, Mara wins the race and gets to enjoy the view from the top of the tree. It takes twice as long for others to catch up.

The triangular island is formed by the two rivers merging to form a third one. The northern and southern sections of the river seem quick-flowing, while the waters near the eastern shore seem more or less stagnant. Across the eastern section of the river, there are more old dead trees, same as on the island. Though further out east-south-east, a more healthy-looking (but currently leafless) forest is visible near the horizon.

To the south, there is a region of meadows, judging by the patches of green visible where snow has melted. Further out south and west, the snow has already melted, giving way to swampy wetlands, with some signs of flora sprouting - probably reeds and other medium-height plants.

The north consists of the same grassy plains as the nearby south, slightly elevated compared to the island's altitude. Further out north, highlands turn to hills, with a single stream running from the high ground and into the northern big river. Beyond that, the chain of mountains is visible a bit clearer now, albeit of course without their foothills. The whole northern region is snowier than the others, but does show signs of melting, and that seems to contribute to the speed of the northern river's flow (though it's not entirely where exactly the northern river is coming from).

"Hi..."

Silence.

"Do you, um...did I hurt you? I'm sorry. I, um..."

Silence. The beetle contemplates rolling into a ball, and staying that way, forever.

"Where do you want to go first? Towards the dead, scary trees? Or the other way, maybe? Away from the scary trees...oh! Um, what's your name? You're very small. And, um, fuzzy. And soft. I like soft. I, um..."

The beetle twiddles in place with nervous energy. The hymn from above encourages them to move, but there's nowhere they'd rather be than in the shade.

The climb is even easier than it looked, leaving plenty of time to enjoy the music. It's a wonderful piece, but the melody changes a bit too much for Mara to hum along. That doesn't stop them from trying, but it's probably for the best that the other climbers are a bit further behind.

The view is as spectacular as the song, although it's disappointing that there don't appear to be any settlements in sight. What even is a settlement? The word is there, but the meaning is a bit foggy. All the more reason to find one.

Mara drops the tune to call out to the others once they catch up.
"Betcha one of the calamities lives on that mountain way off in the northeast!"

It's just a hunch of course, but mountains - especially really tall, distant ones - seem like an obvious habitat for whatever a calamity is. Swamps too, and those charred trees are probably a sign as well. What's that old mushroom even worried about? Tracking down these calamities is gonna be easier than taking eggs from a nest.

"Betcha a calamity started the fire that burned all those trees, too. So which one are we gonna hunt first?"

"The Elder Mushroom Ring said all three directions. I would guess that towards the hills is one of those, along with the wetlands and the forest. But we should probably tell those below, care to race down?"

And with that she springs off the branch she's on and glides down to earth

The big shadow is shaking and talking. The spider knows how to sense danger. However, now she senses someone else sensing danger.

Scared? Scared? Not me scared. Other scared? Big other scared??

Revelation: others can get scared.

Having only been alive a few moments, everything is of monumental significance to the spider. Shadows, leaves, sounds, mushrooms. All important, all scary, all maybe future bad. But this is certainly the most world-shattering so far.

This is not scary. This is me. I do that. I am scared.

Other thing is scared. Good. It understands. Good. It is the same inside. Good!

"No hurt," clicks the spider. "Scared. Called Nemma." This is the first time Nemma has needed a name. She is proud to show the one she made. "Give name?"

A shadow from another spriteling passes over and she flinches. Too much like birds. "Cover good. Exposed."

When it comes to really tall, distant mountains, there does seem to be one more that might fit the description far to the north. The tallest peak that was partially obscured by distant fog even during the mostly clear day. Taller and wider than any of the peaks of the nearer chain, but oh so distant.

Never one to turn down a competition, Mara dives from the top of the tree and... plummets like a stone.

The plan was to stick a super cool three-point landing and impress the big beetle, but after a few crashes and tumbles through the lower branches Mara hits the ground with all the grace and clamor of a brick.