Li and Azhar sat on either end of a fallen tree trunk. In the middle, the wyrm lay as still as a corpse. Azhar was hunched over the wyrm, his eyes narrowed in focus as he analyzed her health. His hand gently went to her legs, feeling her joints to see if they were intact before making his way up to her eyes. He gingerly grasped the wyrm's head and used his thumb to peel back her closed eyes.

"There," he said, nodding his head towards the wyrm's eye. It glowed a bright yellow that was distinctly visible in the black of night. "She's alright. Just used up all her mana is what it is."

"Are you sure?" said Li. "She has no heartbeat and she's cold like ice to the touch."

"Those are scary signs to see on a human, but they ain't no cause for concern for wyrms." Azhar took his hand off the wyrm's head, running it over her eye to close it with a gentle touch. "Wyrms can hibernate for ages. Centuries, even. Their hearts straight stop beatin' and they get as cold as the environment round' them. But as long their eyes got life in em', they're still there."

"I see." Li felt like he had brought his sick pet to a veterinarian. "And there won't be any further complications?"

"Nah, she's a tough one. Just needs rest. Though, I should say ya gotta' start namin' her soon."

"A name?"

Li had thought about names for the wyrm before, but he had not really settled on anything and did not see how it was relevant to her health. Not for lack of care, but mostly because he could not land on anything too appropriate.

"They say a soul gets stronger once ya give it a name. It's a proven fact for wyrms, especially ones raised by humans. They get a lotta' foreign influence in their being growin' up and evolvin', so they need a strong sense of self, and a name helps em' latch onto one.

For a being like you, infinitely more complicated and powerful than a regular ol' human, I figure the name's even more important."

"Well, if the name's going to directly affect her health, then I need to think about it much more seriously. Does the content of the name matter?"

"Nah, long as ya give her a name. And it's gotta' be you, her parent, else she ain't gonna' take to it."

"I see. I appreciate the information." Li nodded in approval to Azhar.

"As curt as ever. That's why I didn't like ya the first time I met you, no offense. Didn't know ya were a god then too."

"And now you're my sworn follower, though I guess there aren't too many rules in following me. Maybe I should update my rules a little. Add in a little more farm labor."

"I'm fine with anythin'." Azhar pointed to his eyes. "I'm confident I can do anythin' related to workin' the farm with ease now. Gotta' show my thanks for this new sight somehow."

"Well, any extra hand on the farm is a welcome one." Li paused, contemplating Azhar's sudden developments. "And don't forget what I said before: I don't have a great idea of what I'm doing in regard to being your god. I didn't intend for you to inherit my vision, and I don't know what lies in wait for you in the future either."

"Trust me, I'm used to it. Didn't know whether I was gonna' get eaten or blessed with the animal spirits, though you're a hells of a lot more reasonable than em'."

"You could say I'm in a good mood these days. Appreciate it while you can." Li did not like thinking about how his personality could warp when he used his darker powers, but optimally, by developing his forest spirit and eldritch sides together, he could maintain a balanced sense of self.

"You ain't gonna' up and tear down this world or anythin' once you're in a bad mood, right?" said Azhar only half-jokingly.

"On the contrary, I like to think I'll be protecting this world. Lives in it included, of course. Lives are nature, and like I said, nature is to be appreciated."

"Right."

"And if I'm going to be something you put your faith in, then I want to be able to lead by example." Li held out an open palm. "Now, give me that rootbeast core. I figure I can distill it into an interesting elixir."

Azhar shuffled his free hand in his pocket before he fished out the baseball sized black seed. It was gnarled like bark but smooth, almost looking like a charred brain. Li took it, intending to ask Iona for potential applications for it. 

"Say, ain't it kinda bad to be tearin' down these rootbeasts?" asked Azhar as he looked at dried up and wilted roots and rootbeast carcasses littering the clearing. "Part of the forest and all." 

"Good to hear you ask that, and I'm glad to answer: No. There's a reason I chose them for you to fight. They needed to be cleared out. Tell me, you learned about rootbeasts in your adventurer's training, right?"

Azhar nodded, cocking his head as he reminisced. "Had to memorize that dusty old tome a dozen times over. Dangerous Fauna and Flora of Eldenia by grand arcanist Sagesse."

"That's the same book I use," said Li with a scholarly nod. There was a certain academic appeal in talking about a book with someone who had studied it just like him that he had not forgotten from his human days. "Then you should know that rootbeasts don't originate from here. They come from all the way down south in Duvin."

The word Duvin brought an annoyed twitch to Azhar's brow as he remembered that he was here now instead of there because of his weakness, but the ranger's momentary lapse passed quickly.

Li continued. "Duvin's creatures are far stronger than those up here. These rootbeasts, their seeds carried by strong winds, land here and disrupt the ecosystem. They're an invasive species far too strong to belong here, and they destroy the balance. Just look around you, this whole clearing, it's entirely dead because of just three rootbeasts."

"Ya gotta' point."

"Besides, their carcasses will rot and form strong fertilizer for the forest floor to regrow from. Balanced, as all things should be." Li nodded. "Though I have to say I'm surprised you and I both learned from the same book."

"Only the Arcana scholars got rights to write tomes, and there's only so many people wantin' to waste their entire lives bein' old farts scribblin' on paper, so not too surprisin', I guess." Azhar scoffed. "Buncha creepy and useless sacks of bones, the whole damn lot of em'."

Li noted Azhar's strong displeasure with the Arcana, the premiere scholarly institution and resource for writings both mundane and magical in Soleil. "Well, I never did take you as the type to like reading."

Azhar glanced at Li before shrugging. "It ain't that. Readin's one of the few studies I liked. Don't like em' for a different reason. Guess you should know more bout' me if I'm your follower. I wasn't an orphan before I came here. Had a family in the west."

"That does make sense. If I recall correctly, immigration from the hinterlands to Riviera started only recently under the duchess's rule, and you predate that."

"Yeah. My parents sold me out to an Arcana scholar. They liked usin' hinterlander folk for their magic experiments. Even better if it was children."

"I see." Li did not forward condolences or sentimentality to Azhar. In the first place, he was terrible at that, and, more importantly, he could tell from Azhar's casual eyes that he had long since moved beyond the past. There were no long lasting scars from it. "It makes sense. Those shamanistic tattoos must be quite interesting to people who have no exposure to it."

"That, but mostly cause' we hinterlanders were considered less than human. It's real easy to poke and prod and cut and tear apart kids when ya convince yourself they're just dirt skinned monster spawn." Azhar shrugged. "Got shipped over to some dodgy old arcana crone here in Riviera. Didn't take three days before I put a pair of scissors through her head. Wasn't gonna' stand gettin' crammed into a jar."

Li nodded, impressed that Azhar even as a little child had the drive to kill for his survival. Old Thane was right: Azhar did have what it took to follow his battle philosophy bordering on self-harm.

"Nobody thought to search for you? The Arcana is a respected institution, I read. Someone must have been sent out to see what killed one of them."

"I was lucky that the arcanist that bought me was practicin' illegal magic. Blood magic. Ain't like the crown back then cared too much, bought up illegal research under the table all the damn time, but if one of em' arcanists workin' outside the boundaries of the law got killed, the crown didn't investigate to keep up public appearances.

Don't really like the duchess that much, but I gotta' thank her for crackin' down and reformin' the Arcana, tossin' all them glorified torturers posin' as 'scholars' down into the darkest depths of her dungeons where they ain't ever gonna' lift another finger to hurt anyone else again."

"And that landed you in the orphanage."

Azhar nodded.

"Hm." Li put a contemplative hand to his chin. "And yet you went back to your homeland after all that? After being sold out by your own family?"

"They didn't mean much to me by that point. My real ma and pa keeled over from famine, and they deserved it, screw em' both. But I ain't gonna' pin their sins on all my people. I'd be just like those degenerate arcanists if I did that." Azhar shrugged.

"I wanted to get stronger and I wanted somethin' noble to fight for. All round' me, adventurers were sayin' they were fightin' for the crown or their people, but it wasn't my people, so I went back to the hinterlands, gettin' back into the tribes that I barely remembered and learnin' their ways, their horse ridin', their way with the bow, their shamanism."

Azhar smiled down at the wyrm, seeing her as a symbolization of all the memories he had of going back to his people, of learning and toiling to become stronger than ever. His smile faded.

"But I didn't belong there either. I wasn't really one of em' anymore, not when I hadn't been there since I was, what, five? Even now, I can barely speak the damn language. They took me in, but I'd always had that feelin' that I was a stranger among my own. Just cause' I looked like em' didn't mean I was one of em', and I never would be."

"In the end, you've decided to fight for your sisters," said Li. "Explains why you're so willing to do whatever it takes for them."

Azhar nodded. "Yeah, ya got it. Spent seventeen hard years tryin' to find out where I belonged, what I was fightin' for, all to realize it ain't a question of where and what, but who."

Azhar slid off the trunk, patting a few chips of rotten wood from his body. "And to get stronger, the old man's right. I gotta' eat. Let's get goin' else' there ain't gonna' be nothin' on the table except the old man's porridge."