Chapter 3

“You shall not burn any wood.”

The words of the Guardian, penned by Polan the scribe, year 3000

Strategy

The chauffeur merged the hovercar into the left-most lane, but it was, unfortunately, going just as slow as every other lane on the highway. Five lanes and they were all packed. Even in such a luxurious vehicle, the afternoon traffic in Magen City was a killer.

In the back seat, Oliver Kapur heaved an impatient sigh, quickly tapping his temple with his fingers. Dressed in a formal suit and tie, he was a brown-haired, brown-eyed man in his mid-twenties with pale skin and a firm jaw-line. Although he was shorter than most men, his handsome face not only caused most women to swoon, but it was also a major factor in helping him become one of the most powerful politicians in the world.

He wasn’t necessarily eager to get to his destination; he just didn’t like waiting in traffic. Traffic could be solved if people just weren’t stupid, he thought. Too many stupid drivers out there. A problem he knew could be solved, but never would. There were already so many world problems to focus on and he felt responsible to solve most of them.

Fortunately, he could sidetrack himself by watching the daily news on the car’s monitor. As a Branch Leader, he needed to keep himself updated on all current events. And so far today, the news had spent most of the morning rehashing details about the Justice Hall Shooting.

It had been three days. And still, the news went on and on about it.

“How far is it to the Capital Grove anyways?” Terick asked with a groan.

Terick Oakley, Oliver’s best friend, sat in the rear-facing seat in front of him. He had dark eyes, brown skin, spiky hair, and a narrow face. He loosened his tie, clearly hating traffic even more than Oliver.

“It’s on the south end of Magen City,” Oliver said. “Only a couple miles more.”

Terick sniffed. “But still twenty-something minutes to get there? Flaming traffic.”

Magen City was a sprawling metropolis, one of the largest cities on Merith and the capital city of Salveria. Hundreds of glass-covered buildings scraped the blue sky overhead, making the city feel like it was built upwards instead of expanding wide. Snow covered the tops of the buildings and the sides of the streets. On the outskirts, a couple of power plants pumped white vapor skyward, adding to the layer of smog above the city. On the streets of downtown, it resembled a jungle made of concrete, asphalt, rubber, and metal. Dozens of little drones with tiny cameras flew around the buildings, powered by tourists staring at receptor screens, enjoying the view.

“Oh look, you’re on TV again,” Terick said with the same level of excitement a teenager would have while reading a dictionary.

Oliver watched the video on the monitor with a bitter taste in his mouth. A hairy man in the audience pulled out his pistol and shot at Chief Justice Sapel. The room went into an uproar of terror, people screaming and flooding out the doors, frantically climbing over each other to escape death.

Oliver groaned as he spotted himself in the video stumble off the podium in fright and fall to his knees, thinking he’d been shot. How embarrassing, he thought.

No one had been shot.

The gunman was probably too intoxicated on something to aim straight. A few bullet holes were found on the front of Sapel’s podium, but the Chief Justice—along with the other Justices—managed to duck before getting tagged. A few Enforcers in black uniforms and caps rushed to detain the deranged man. The shooter was stopped, however, by one of the audience members; a big man who wrestled the gun out of his hands in a matter of seconds. The video, filmed by one of the drones above, showed the brief scuffle and the Enforcers stepping in to arrest the shooter.

And it was over. Just like that. Not a big deal, right? Oliver thought. Nobody got hurt. Well, except for the poor people who got trampled on while trying to escape? But nobody died.

Then the media found out the shooter was an Arboler.

Now the two Branches were at each other’s throats. Members of Oliver’s own Branch spoke furiously of retaliating with violence, but he did everything he could to avoid that. It was as if they’d forgotten what they were even arguing about and just wanted to throttle each other’s necks.

All over trees.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Terick asked. “You can say no. You’re not obligated in any way.”

“I’m sure,” Oliver said. “She and I have history, remember? It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, and the way I remember it, that history didn’t end so well.” Terick readjusted a metal dial on the ceiling, turning down the hover car’s heat a little. “I thought you shut that door for good.”

“Oh, it’s closed. Don’t worry about that. This meeting is strictly for political reasons.”

Terick tilted his head, giving Oliver a look.

“What?” Oliver asked.

“You’re still attracted to her, aren’t you? Admit it.”

“Well, I’m not—”

Terick cut him off. “Of course, you’re attracted to her. I guess she’s pretty… in a… too-intelligent-for-any-man-alive sort of way. Not for me; that’s for sure. But right up your alley, Ollie. You thrive in the challenge; I know it. And you love a woman who can handle herself in an argument.”

“As I said, I’ve shut that door.” Oliver looked back out his window at the glass-covered skyscrapers as they passed. “And I doubt it’ll ever open again. Especially considering we’re leaders of the two opposing Branches now? It’ll never happen.”

“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.” Terick drummed on his thighs in a fast rhythm. “So, remind me again why you’re wanting to fraternize with the enemy? Are you planning to give her an ultimatum?”

“Mages, no. She asked to speak with me in person, and I accepted. The main purpose, as I see it, is to let the media see us together in a non-hostile setting. People need to see that their leaders can get along even when we disagree.”

“That’s not how I see it. She wants you in person, so she can beg for you to end the debate and leave her rotten trees alone. And begging is obviously done best in person.”

Oliver chuckled. “Kimberly Groves will never beg. Believe me.”

Terick sighed. “If you ask me, she should be begging. Her entire Branch of Arbolers should be on their knees pleading for mercy right now. After what they did in the Justice Hall? After what they’ve done for thousands of years? Their flaming beliefs about magic and the Guardian have kept humanity in the dark and brought people like that guy to try and shoot one of the Justices!

“It’s finally time that enough people have opened their eyes to stand up against tradition and Arboler backward thinking. I believe it would be better if the Arbolers were completely eradicated, or at least kicked out of the country. That would honestly be the best thing for Salveria.”

“Flame that!” Oliver snapped, speaking quickly. “Sure, the Arbolers have crazy beliefs, but that doesn’t make it okay for us to bully them into submission, strip them of their rights, and expel them from the country. It might make Salveria better, but it’s wrong. Completely wrong. Just as wrong as that guy was to open fire on a Justice. We have to focus on peaceful solutions. Not forceful ones. That’s what I’m trying to do here. Prevent a flaming civil war.

“This is about trees, Terick. Wood. It’s as simple as that. No one needs to die or be banished over it.”

Terick raised his eyebrows at Oliver’s outburst but didn’t look offended by it. He’d learned over the years that it was best not to argue with Oliver.

“That’s obviously why the Seculars elected you to be their Branch Leader,” Terick said. “Got your head on straight. Peaceful solutions and all. I agree with you. But I wonder…”

Oliver pulled his eyes from the car window to look at his friend. “What?”

“I wonder if there can be a peaceful solution anymore. The nation feels like it’s about to tear itself apart.”

“There is,” Oliver said confidently. “There has to be.”

“Mr. Kapur, sir,” the chauffeur said. “We’ve arrived.”

Oliver glanced out the window and saw trees, which was an unusual sight in the city. Thousands of them, standing tall and leafless, due to the winter chill. This was Capital Grove, the only place within Magen City where trees grew. It spanned over a square mile, surrounded by medium-sized skyscrapers and busy streets. Over a brick fence, he could see hundreds of people—tourists, Arbolers, Environmentalists—walking along snow-shoveled pathways through the grove, admiring its beauty.

An entourage of reporters and drones gathered near the Grove’s northern corner, right where Oliver’s chauffeur parked. News drones hovered near his door, ready to film his every move once he exited.

“Looks like Kimberly’s already here,” Terick said. “She already drew in a crowd.”

Oliver readjusted the collar on his suit coat. “How do I look?”

Terick studied him with exaggerated consideration. “Dressed for political battle or dressed for a romantic date? I can’t tell which.”

Oliver rolled his eyes and opened the car door.

The moment he did, a flurry of motion surrounded him. Reporters and drones swarmed down on him but couldn’t penetrate the barrier of several thick-chested bodyguards with sunglasses and metal rods. Those guards swiftly led him over to where Kimberly waited within her own bubble of bodyguards. Half a dozen drones buzzed overhead but kept their distance to avoid being knocked out of the air.

Kimberly stood with her arms folded, looking warm in her thick, green coat and stylish snow boots. She always did have style, Oliver thought. Always refined.

She smiled as he approached. “Glad to see you’re still alive,” she said. “No bullet wounds, I see?”

“Is that any way to greet someone, Kim?” Oliver asked, returning a sincere smile. “You start by expressing relief that they still live? Might as well compliment a rock for existing.”

“Ah, but to exist and to live are two different things, Ollie. Your body may exist, but with too many bullet holes, it wouldn’t live. If I knew of a rock that lived, I might just go about complimenting it, for that indeed would be quite an achievement.”

Oliver chuckled. They turned to stroll down the salted pathway that led into the grove. Their bodyguards maintained a comfortable bubble around them while drones buzzed overhead. The sun reflected off the snow, making the morning especially bright.

“So,” Oliver continued. “Do you go about complimenting all living things, then? Like that bodyguard? Or that tree? I don’t see any bullet holes in them. Why do I get special treatment? Rather unfair if you ask me.”

“You know, I think you’re right,” she said.

“I am?”

She raised a gloved finger while she spoke. “It is quite the ordeal to survive, you know? We all have to fight the fight to continue breathing. Better pay honor where honor is due, I believe. Pandrin, I’m glad to see you’re alive and well.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” one of the bodyguards said while focusing on keeping the reporters back. It was the same bodyguard Oliver’d mentioned a moment earlier.

Kimberly turned to the nearest tree. “And to you, Leafrina, happy to see you’re alive, even though you slumber deep during this frigid winter. May your leaves be many this spring.”

Oliver gaped at her, confused. “That tree’s name is Leafrina?”

“Sure is. She’s a grandmother this year.”

“Do you mean to tell me… that every tree here has a name?”

“Of course!” she said. “That is Knotted Nose. And that is Gnarly Newell. And this… this is Burly Branches.” She rested her hand on a thick-branched tree.

Oliver blinked, uncertain of how to react.

She watched his face contort with confusion and spread her lips into a wide grin.

“Those trees don’t have names, do they?” he asked.

“No,” she said, still grinning. “But it goes to show just how ignorant you are. And how ignorant most of the world is.”

Oliver rolled his eyes and glanced up at one of the drones. How much of that exchange had it caught?

“I’m not as ignorant as you might think,” he said. “I always do a laborious amount of research on my opponents.”

“Is that so?” She folded her arms and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Then tell me, Oliver Kapur, what does this statue represent?” She pointed to his right.

Spread out along the trail were dozens of sculptures between the trees. Their artistry impressed Oliver. He’d never been one who would enjoy walking through an art museum, but he could appreciate a masterpiece when he saw one.

The sculpture she pointed at depicted a bearded man, dressed in an elegant robe, standing tall with a sense of conquering in his stance and straight-set eyes that seemed to hold all wisdom and power. His right hand gripped a metal rod in a vertical position as if it supported his weight. His left hand extended to the side in an elegant, disarming pose—commanding, yet approachable. Under one of the statue’s feet was a massive, snake-like creature with dozens of teeth, and it seemed to be frozen in the middle of terrible pain, in the process of being crushed.

The statue’s eyes sent chills down Oliver’s spine. For he knew—without any explanation needed—who this man was.

The Guardian of Magic.

“Very well.” Oliver cleared his throat. “This statue represents the Age of Monsters in the year 1000.”

“Very good,” she said, nodding.

He pointed to the other side of the pathway. “And this second set of statues is the Age of War, the Guardian’s Second Appearance around the year 2000.”

A second statue of the same bearded man stood tall with a large, open tome in his left hand. His right hand extended with a flat palm toward another statue of a man, who seemed to be writhing in pain, his back arched. It looked as if the Guardian were causing the man’s excruciating pain without even touching him. The writhing man—short and gangly—also had a book in his hand, but it was welded to the tips of his fingers as if it were about to fall out of his grasp.

Around the two statues was a semicircle of five smaller statues. They were nondescript men and women in the same stance as the Guardian, all with their own books and their hands outstretched. It looked like a joint effort to bring this one man down.

“The man in the middle is Lennox Elmson, the false guardian,” Oliver continued. “And those are the legendary mages.”

Kimberly frowned. “I’m impressed. Most schools don’t teach the true history anymore.”

“I had to do some digging into what you call ‘true history.’” He moved on to the next statue. “And this one… is his Third Appearance. The one that put us in our current debacle today.”

“The Age of Greed,” she said. “Year 3000.”

The statues depicted the same bearded man between a tree and some lumbermen with axes and saws. He had his hands held up as if to ward them off. The lumbermen were turned away, dejected.

“People were cutting down trees faster than they could grow back.” Kimberly walked as she spoke. “Life herself was on the brink of dying, along with the Merith and everyone else on it. The Guardian Appeared to stop people from cutting down the few remaining trees. Before Ascending to the heavens, he left us Holy Instructions which teach us how to distinguish between right and wrong, how to live a wholesome life, how to avoid greed, and what to expect at his next Appearance.”

“Probably the best thing that could’ve happened,” Oliver said.

Kimberly furrowed her eyebrows. “Are you being sarcastic?”

“No, I mean it. Since our ancestors no longer had access to wood, they had to become far more innovative. The first few hundred years were difficult, but the golden age of the 3400’s brought about the inventions of metallurgy, rubber, plastic, fossil fuels, and more. Today, we wouldn’t have hover cars, rockets, satellites, and pocket drones if it weren’t for the Age of Greed.”

“So, you agree then that removing wood from the marketplace is beneficial for society?”

“It was.” Oliver raised a finger as he spoke. “In the 3400’s it was. But today… today we already have so much technology, and there are so many trees on the Merith and no rational reasons for leaving them alone.”

“Except for him.” Kimberly pointed ahead.

They gazed up at another statue of the Guardian, the tallest one of them all, with acceptance and vengeance in his expression. He stared down at the viewers who walked this trail as if he would take away all their worries and concerns, as well as utterly destroy any who caused them harm. His head and shoulders were frosted with snow.

“His Fourth Appearance,” Kimberly said.

“Which still hasn’t happened,” Oliver added. “Even though its year 4027, twenty-seven years too late.”

“Doesn’t mean that it won’t.”

He gave her a dubious look, then stared at the drones and reporters. They seemed to enjoy his demonstration of knowledge. Good, he thought. The Seculars will need to see that we can learn about and get along with the Arbolers.

She followed his gaze and spoke to one of her bodyguards who relayed the message to the rest. They formed a wall along the pathway and ordered the drones to be grounded. The reporters didn’t give much of a fight, looking satisfied; they probably had enough material for several consecutive stories already.

“Okay,” Kimberly said as she walked down the pathway. “Now that that’s over, we can really talk.”

Oliver rubbed his hands together to stay warm and walked beside her. We’ve been walking for a while, he thought. This Grove is bigger than I thought. “Should I be worried?” he asked.

“Not at all.” She smiled at him. “This meeting has a two-fold purpose, Ollie. The first, was for our Branches to see that we can get along.”

Oliver nodded. “That’s why I came. Mission accomplished. And what’s the second?”

“A proposal.”

“Oh boy.”

“Not a difficult one, I believe.” She paused. “My Branch wishes to proceed with the lumber debate in private.”

“It will be in private,” he said. “Justice Sapel said there won’t be an audience this time, for obvious safety reasons.”

“Not just an audience. We don’t want any drones or any footage of the debate.”

Oliver shifted uncomfortably. So, this is her strategy, he thought. She wants to keep everyone in the dark until after it’s over. It’ll ruin my image, even if I win. The Seculars won’t know how I won. Some might think I bribed her or did something shady. If they’re ever going to reelect me, they need to see me in action.

He shook his head. “Sorry, Kim. No can do.”

She looked surprised. “Really? Why not?”

“It’s important for our people to see and hear this debate. Give them an opportunity to hear the arguments being made. They need to see the logic of what we’re doing.”

“Logic?” Kim asked. “So, you think it’s logical to trample on millennia of tradition and politically force a minority into submission?”

“No. I think it’s logical to consider the logic of our traditions. It’s logical to use the valuable resources this world provides. It’s logical to let you, the Arbolers, maintain your beliefs and your rights, while the rest of the world can use a portion of the wood. It’s logical and fair that we both can get what we want.”

“Yes, but is it logical to—? Life!” She clenched her fists and turned away from him, sucking in a sharp breath of air. “Let’s not argue. That’s not why I brought you here.”

Oliver chuckled. “Mages, Kim, we can’t avoid it. We’re Branch Leaders. We argue. It’s what we do. It’s who we are.”

“Not me. I argue because I have to. Not because I want to.”

“Well, I do.” He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s who I am.”

“I don’t think you know who you really are yet, Ollie.”

He looked at her. “What makes you say that?”

She opened her mouth to answer but closed it as the pathway opened up into a clearing. Oliver blinked as he looked up at the tallest tree on Merith.

He had to arch his back to see the top. It must have been as tall as a small skyscraper. He’d seen its massive canopy from without the grove before, but never at this angle. Its trunk was as wide as a school bus was long. Extensive, thick branches stretched over the Grove, like protective arms over its little children. While most of the Grove’s trees were leafless in the winter, this tree still had snow-blanketed needles on all of its branches. He knew of other trees in the mountains that kept its needle-like leaves year-round, but he’d never seen one in person before. He knew there was a name for that type of tree, but he couldn’t recall.

Forests were safeguarded throughout the world; protected by traditional laws made by superstitious people, so he didn’t know much about them. No one was permitted to break, cut, chop, saw, or—Life forbid—burn any part of a tree. A pity, Oliver thought. Because Verence has proven that wood burns very well.

Fortunately, harvesting fruits was acceptable. Nearly every orchard had been moved out of the city. As Magen City expanded over the years, obstructing trees had to be carefully transplanted either in a nearby forest or in the Capital Grove. A tedious and expensive method that many Seculars loathed to do.

Changes needed to be made in Salveria. Especially now that most Salverians were Seculars.

And yet, Oliver couldn’t deny the beauty of the tree. It looked so strong. So ancient. So… dare he say… majestic?

Beside the tree was another, smaller statue of the Guardian of Magic. This one looked ancient compared to the other statues of the Guardian in the Grove. It was missing its right arm.

“I just think…” Kimberly said softly, “that you don’t really enjoy arguing as much as you say. Your true skill is in public speaking, but your heart is centered on a personal vendetta, not on what would truly be best for the people.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“I think the truth is that you simply hate trees.” She paused, waiting for him to argue. He didn’t. “Why do you hate them so?”

“Kim,” he said, looking up at the tree. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

She nodded, reluctantly allowing him to change the subject.

Oliver took a deep breath, bringing up the question that had been on his mind ever since she broke up with him. “How can you believe in the Guardian of Magic with what happened to your parents? If you really believe in him, don’t you think he should have saved them?”

Kimberly didn’t answer for a while. She stared at the massive tree as they walked closer to it. They passed by a few more relics and statues but didn’t talk about them.

“He doesn’t save everyone,” she said, then paused. “I believe Life wants us to experience hardships, so we can learn from them and grow. The trials I endured as an orphaned teenager were intense, but they molded me into who I am today.” She took a breath. “The Guardian may not be able to save my parents, but I believe he will save the world.”

They fell silent.

Kimberly looked at him, recognizing the pain in his expression. “You’re thinking of your brother, aren’t you?”

Oliver frowned. “It just doesn’t make any sense, Kim. If he’s a defender… then why won’t he defend those who need it?”

“He’s not a god,” she said. “He’s only a man.”

“Then it’s Her fault?” He pointed at the Tree. They’d walked right up to its trunk. Almost close enough to touch.

“It’s nobody’s fault, Ollie.” Kimberly thought for a moment. “You know, I wasn’t even considering this, but why don’t you just ask Her?”

He spun on her. “You mean… treespeak?”

She nodded. “All you have to do is put your hand here, ask your question, and listen.” She placed her hand on its thick, white bark.

Oliver was shaking his head before she finished. “No, thank you. I’ll just admire from a distance.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, maybe someday…” She turned as one of her bodyguards came running toward her.

“Miss Groves,” he said. “Something has happened that requires your immediate attention.”

“Very well.” She looked at Oliver. “You’ll have to forgive me, Ollie. We’ll have to speak further about the privacy of the debate at another time. Please excuse me.”

She departed at a brisk pace, leaving him alone with the tree that some considered to be the god of this world.