Myriad

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Thess blinks into the sudden sunlight, filtered through the painfully green trees but still harsh on their eyes. The three of them are in the middle of a forest clearing, trees cleared away as if keeping a respectful distance, but still tall enough to shelter them from the sun. There's no sound except for the sedate rustle of the trees in the wind. The soil is soft and the air is warm –

Oh GODDESS IT'S MYRIAD.

They start coming right out of the trees, like no book can ever describe, faces pulling limbs and bodies from knots and whorls in the bark, fast enough to be protective or predatory. Their faces are twisted into a passable imitation of human confusion, but something in their gaze is far too large, far too ancient.

"Who are you?" asks a Myriad, mouth open but not forming the words.

Thess and the goddesses back into each other as the circle of Myriad closes around the clearing. Thess is breathing hard, their fingers and stomach tingling in fear. The Myriad aren't dangerous, says every book. The Myriad have no desire to harm humans. But that's about all that is known about the Myriad. That, and they do not let humans roam out into their forests.

"You aren't supposed to be here," says another, in a more confused tone but the exact same voice.

"You're not safe," says another, from behind Thess this time. "This is a growing place."

"Did you come from outside?" Myriad, rooted as they are, are incapable of leaving the Realm or even the forest of their birth.

"Yes, I did," Thess babbles, "yes, we did, we're from a temple, we're Called – "

"No we're not," Aur cuts them off bluntly. "I'm Auricant."

"I'm Moanuni," says Moa.

The Myriad quiet.

They remain quiet for an unnerving amount of time. This isn't helping Thess's stress levels. Theology is definitely one of the things Myriad don't talk about with humans.

"Divinity or not," one finally murmurs, "please...do not stand there."

"Wait," says Thess, the question bubbling to the surface before they can stop it, "why n – aaaAAAAHH!"

The soil shoots up underneath them and their feet leave the ground. The fast-growing sapling propels them into the sky, their arms and legs scraping and bumping against the bark. It stops with a jolt that shakes them out of the branches and they nearly crunch on the forest floor before managing to catch themself.

All around them, other saplings are growing, rising about twenty feet out of the ground and then stopping. It's a whole new grove of them. The Myriad whisper and chatter amongst themselves.

"Hey, great job," Moa smiles, as they land on the ground beside her. "You, uh. You may have just saved the human race on Myriad, so, thanks."

Thess really should be used to being blindsided by now. "I what."

"Um, you wouldn't know this, but...the Myriad don't have magic of their own, except for like the magic that they use to live, they can't produce it on their own. But humans can enchant soil, like they do on Lowa, so it grows things faster and healthier, like new baby Myriad."

"No, I do know this," Thess blurts.

"No, hold on. You know how humans only survive on Myriad as the Myriad will it. And the enchanted soil is the only thing of value we produce for them in return, aside from corpses to use as mulch – "

"Yeah, everyone kno – "

"And the Blight's done something to the enchanted soil so that now it doesn't let anything grow where it's touched. Or, I guess. It used to do that?"

"Oh." They hadn't known that part.

"Yeah. So they were starting to get mad, and they're pretty scary. So, uh." Moa grins and spreads her arms. "Congratulations!"

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