CHPT 302: Awaken, Under the Moon the Mistletoe Glows....

He was used to seeing the flicker of flame upon his return to Rollan's home. The man seemed to enjoy his arts and crafts.....and then stuffing his arts and crafts with Monster carcasses and burning them to ash. Offerings to whoever he believed in. Oddly enough, in world full of Gods and magic, Rollan was the first person he'd seen actively practicing religion. The only other person to reference such an act was Ronin-- who often spoke as if he hated the gods...

But, he wasn't exactly sure what the man was practicing now.

As Claude stepped out of the shadows of the forest and into the field of Rollan's home, he found the Druid lighting the tops of sticks planted in the ground in a near perfect circle. Maybe it was perfect, he didn't spend much time observing its geometrical excellence after he laid his eyes on the scorched patterns within.

Lines, paths, intersections, knots. As if Rollan drew on the grass ground with a flaming quill and his own artistic talent to guide him. From where he stood, the design looked odd...intricate-- never ending, just like the Triskelion insignia on his blindfold. He'd assumed they were both Druidic symbols.

But, where the Triskelion was a spinning wheel, the designed scorched into the earth in front of Rollan's home looked to be a tree. It's roots twisted and intertwined near his feet before rising up all the way to the branches that interlocked and morphed into the eventually falling leaves in a never ending cyclical fashion.

"Welcome back, Monsieur. I take it your run in with the Storm Sisters was unpleasant, but successful, no?" Rollan suddenly said, not sounding a bit surprised despite Claude's soundless movement and sudden appearance.

Claude shrugged, "Yea. They're not a problem anymore."

Rollan nodded, "Good. It was only a matter of time before they willingly accepted the touch of the desert."

"Your saying that as if they had a choice..." Claude thought with discomfort.

Rollan lit the last stick and stood, letting the scent of the burnt herbs wrapped around the sticks permeate and hang on the winds, "So. You've learned of the downside of Druidry, no?"

"Greco-Roman Monsters. They don't like Druids."

"No, no they don't. The animosty between the Romans and the Celts of the time before the Old World seemed to have transferred into their supernatural counterparts. For this very reason, the Roman Gods will not hear your call or accept your offerings either.."

"Ah. I've got my own issues with the gods anyway..." Claude spoke the half truth effortlessly.

"So, has that turned you away from my teachings?" Rollan asked as the flaming sticks burned like a dozen ground-based stars.

Claude shook his head, "No. I don't really have any options anyway. I'm in. Nothings changed."

A smile stretched the dark smooth skin of Rollan's face, "Parfait!"

He didn't know what Rollan was saying, he had a tendency to blend his English with French like that was completely natural. So, Claude asked the question that had been sitting on his mind since he entered the field.

"Rollan, what is this?" He asked, pointing to the design burned into the field.

"This, Monsieur. This is your final step before beginning your journey down the path of Druidry. This is The Ancient Oak Ritual. The ritual all newly mades must endure to become Saplings."

"Saplings...?" Claude thought outloud with a distasteful expression.

"Even the largest oak trees must start from a seed, no? Have a seat." Rollan replied, pointing to one of the two openings in the insignia scorched ground.

Claude made his way in, smelling the intensity of the burnt herbs that reminded him strongly of burnt pine.

By the time he was seated, Rollan returned with a pot in his hands. He stood and speculated for a moment while he looked from him to the sky. He was seated under the rising sun. Maybe that was wrong.

"Maybe....we'll try something different for you, hm? Come sit here." Rollan instructed, pointing to the open space across from him that'd place him under the Moon.

"Alright...." He replied warily before quickly moving. As soon as he was seated, Rollan took his old seat and placed the pot between them.

"Do you know what you're sitting in?"

"No." Claude replied flatly, while his pack sat around the flaming sticks that bordered the grounds.

"This.." Rollan replied, refferencing to the insignia etched into the earth, "Is the Tree of Life. A symbol of strength, longevity and Rebirth. It is within this this circle that you will truly awaken the power of the Druids. It's been done for generations. Teacher and Student. Burning Sun and Maddening Moon. Two followers of the Oak, surrounded by Mistletoe and flame. Are you ready?"

Claude sat up straighter and crossed his legs. He could feel the importance of the area-- the historical significance. Like he was witnessing something sacred in every sense. Even the surrounding forest was deathly silent-- but the scents of the animals remained....like they were watching with him.

"Im ready."

"Then let us begin, hm?" Rollan replied before digging into his pouch and pulling out another pouch. Within the second black pouch, he pulled out an....acorn?

He questioned what he was looking at for one simple reason. It didn't look like an average acorn. It was smaller-- no bigger than the tattoo in his palm and it glowed with an odd reflective rainbow. Almost like spilled gasoline. That oily rainbow-esque color sheathed the chestnut brown object like an aura that radiated with age and power.

Rollan could feel his eyes on the object. "This is the Druids most important item."

"What is it?"

Fwoo

Rollan tossed the object, pulling Claude's Prey Drive into action, resulting in him snatching it out of the air.

"That is an Ancient Oak Seed. Growing this will grow your power and signify your progress as a Druidic Warrior. It will also awaken your Natural Crest. But, all you need to worry about is growing the seed. That is all this ritual requires Monsieur. Growth."

Claude almost forgot to respond. The seed in his hand stole his attention with expert level thievery. He could feel its ambient power....almost sentient in the way it reached out and studied him. "How Ancient is this?" He thought before turning it over and finding a Rune engraved in the seed.

"Never repeat that Rune, you hear me? Do you hear me?!" Rollan snapped.

Claude was shocked out of gazing at the seed, "Wh-- Why?"

"Because wherever you place it including yourself will explode over a mile radius." He casually replied.

"....The hell?"

"Now plant the seed, Monsieur. Your journey is supposed to be starting and you're drooling over artwork, hm? Come on!"

"Alright, alright." Claude replied and placed the seed within the dirt that filled the pot between them.

The odd feel of magic never left. Even when the seed was buried beneath the cold mushy dirt.

"Now what?"

Rollan's hand's glowed with the use of his Nature Magic. Claude felt the ground beneath him shake and rumbled as a wooden tendril emerged from the branching artwork beneath them. As if the design was beginning to actualize.

The snaking wooden spike slithered at Rollan's side, following his flowy movements in a way he'd never seen. The connection was so fluid. Nothing like when he used Nature.

"Now, you will grow the seed."

Claude apprehensively reached for the pot.

"No. Hold your hand over the pot, Monsieur."

"...ok?"

"This might hurt a bit." Rollan announced.

"What m--"

Shlck!

"AHHHCK!"

Before Claude could properly reply to Rollan's announcement, the man swiped with his left hand, causing the wooden snaking tendril to follow his movement and slash open his palm in a perfect line.

As if being piloted by the spirits of the millions of other Druids that had done the same through history, he turned his hand sideways and closed his fist, squeezing out his lifeblood to soak into the dirt and give life and magic to the Ancient Seed.

It hurt like hell, but he couldn't move. All he could do was sit still while his fingers dug into the wound, causing the blood to flow in accordance to the ritual. More and more red soaked the dirt until the tingling touch of magic singed his skin. He still couldn't move, until his hand was suddenly pushed away in response to the lightning fast burst of growth.

"Oh my g--"

FWSHHHHH!!!

.....

...

"[Claude, is everything alright?]"

"....Think so." He replied while opening his eyes and sitting up.

He had no injuries, but his hand radiated with a painful pulse that made it's way to his skull in repeated bangs. If it wasn't for that he would've noticed the change a lot sooner.

The pot was broken. Just like the time he tried to grow a tree at the University. Roots ripped through and pushed apart the pot to stab into the plentiful natural ground beneath. The beginnings of the young tree rose about six feet and even sprouted a few leaves from it's long and snaking branches.

"Wild Magic...I didn't even consider..." He thought to himself while Rollan sat dumbfounded. It was still growing.

"Arne....I think I ruined the ritual."

As if in reply to his thoughts..

DING!

[Ritualistic Practice Recognized....]

[Sub-teaching Unlocked: (Lunar) Druidic Warrior's Apprentice]

"[Oh. That's different....]"