Wyspar's Nieten Tree

A figure, merely two feet tall, rushes up to our hero. She sits back and stares at him until she has his full attention. Once she is certain he wouldn’t interrupt, that he would listen, she began to speak. The following is what she conveyed to him:

The Last Bastion pleaded with me to stay the night I announced my departure. “No! Wyspar Nyth, don’t go!” For six cycles they’d paid me in coin and milk to hunt the vermin that would steal their food. Had they known the truth of my methods, they’d have locked me in a cage and I’d be trapped forever.

Beastfolk don’t have magic, this is a known fact. We came into existence long after the relationship had been made between the Augura had made their pacts. The folk before us tolerated some Beastfolk more than others, based on how useful or likable the beasts we sprung from were. For example; Beastfolk born from wild predators struggled to survive on the outskirts of civilization, while Beastfolk from domesticated lived comfortably within the city.

I’ve not told a soul about the events of that night six cycles ago, after the Nieten Tree had blossomed and those that bore witness had long since returned home. Beastfolk are so easily dismissed that I doubted any would believe my report. So I spent years saving the coin until I held enough to pay for my journey to find someone who would listen, someone who would know what to do.

I’ve been watching you the past couple of nights, and I believe the Mana sent you because that person is you. Not only do I think you would heed and believe my tail, but I believe that you’re uniquely equipped to know what to do.

---

I patiently waited for my mother to return for me as it kept getting later and later. I told myself she’d just miscounted how many kittens she’d gathered up, soon she’d be home and realize she only had my seven solid black siblings and come back. I watched the waxing gibbous moons climb the horizon, by now she’d have tucked them all in. Her eyes would scan over her litter, and she’d notice one empty bedding. She would realize she left behind her special girl that sparkled with orange and yellow speckles in her black fur. She’d rush back to me, apologize and comfort me, then lead me by the paw back to my nice warm bundle. Any minute now..

I sat pretending to be calm, though any onlooker would see right through the light. They’d noticed how my ears perked open as much as they could, the twitching at the tip of my tail, a slight puff of my fur to keep me warm. They’d see that, but none would take pity. Even as the wind grew stranger and the moons rose higher until they were trapped in the branches and my eyes grew heavy as exhaustion outweighed all else until I curled up in the roots of the Nieten Tree.

The moons had reached the other end of the sky when I next woke up. I pulled my tail up tighter, the cold having grown crispier. This long fur credited with saving my life that night, and many nights that followed. In case you didn’t realize, mother never came back for me and I didn’t know the way home on my own. Oh, I could find my way back to the town, The Last Bastion is hard to miss, but the streets are a living maze that would gladly gobble up the careless.

I heard a scraping of rock, this is the part of my story that is most relevant pay attention, hero. My heartbeat increased. Was it my mom? Did she finally decide the shame brought to her by speculation over my visual differences amongst her litter paled in comparison to her love for her only daughter? No. My tail and ears sank, the sorrow and lonliness I felt impossible to hide any longer. The figure stood no less than five foot tall, three feet too tall to be mistaken as any Beastkin cat. I stayed silent as I watched them approach, fear for my safety foremost in my mind.

Beastkin kittens are so small, at the time of the events I was only half a foot at most. Easy to be crushed or otherwise disposed of. The figure pointed to the tree, at first I couldn’t see anything. Then pins and needles stuck me all over and I could see strings of light wrapping the tree into a cobweb netting. The figure had vanished by the time I looked back at it.

---

Nobody has mentioned the webbing, but I’ve been hired to accompany Boatmasters to the capital. While there, I’ve heard people describe similar manifestations and over time I concluded the webbing is invisible to all except those that practice in lightning.

I wanted to abandon the Boatmasters, report what I’d seen years ago, but to abandon them would be a death sentence. I’d be caged, carted back to the Last Bastion, and thrown into their river! All I could do was hide my secret, tell nobody that I didn’t hunt vermin, only used the gift from the Nieten Tree to repel them from the city until I could seek out someone to help my tree.

I don’t know what Mana wishes you to do, but I do know that you are the one that would do it. Why else would we have run into each other here?