The Oread seems perfectly happy to remain on the second floor, mostly unmoving. The three of you leave her up there for the rest of the day until the gathering teams return. Sapphire returns too, covered in mud but seemingly happy.

“We found another stone area a little round the mountain. Bit of a longer round trip, but plenty more stone deposits. I think it's new, I don't remember anything like it from before the update, and only a few of them were mined when I got there.”

You nod, and turn toward Sand, Hammer, Notch-Ear and One Eye. “We have plenty of wood for now,” you begin, “So follow Sapphire to this new area tomorrow and focus on stone.”

They nod, and head for dinner in the tavern. The goblin children scurry after them, badgering them with questions about the forest. Clatter and you both shudder in unison when they ask about bugs.

The rest of the evening is... pleasant. Soft. Those who had their ears blown out regale those who were outside with the story, while those that left to fuel your expansion share little things they've seen or heard. You do your best to enjoy yourself and relax, but just can't let go of the feeling that the other shoe is about to drop. You make it about half way through your meal before the revelry becomes too much and you slip away.

You're not sure where this latest attack of angst has come from, but all you can think of is the recent tide of warring instincts. Trust verses control. Human versus dragon. You shake your head, smoke streaming from your nostrils until your face is surrounded by a thin smog. You need to clear your head. And you know just the wench to talk to. Your steps carry you, almost unbidden, the the source and solver of many of your troubles.

Mercy's grove is peaceful in the evening. The fake environment dusted in the reds of a fading sunset, blue moonlight beginning to overtake the light of day. The trees rustle, just out of sync enough with the fake wind that you're reminded that these are no normal trees. The burbling of the brook and susurration of ferns provide a simple backdrop. You close your eyes and let the sensation wash over you. Some of the tension leaks from you, but you can't escape the fact that you know this whole place is manufactured.

Mercy's voice breaks the quiet, deeper in the grove.

“Back. Down. Let go. Good plant.”

You pick your way around a few stones and tread the slightly muddy bank between one of the demon trees and the pond, till the pale light illuminates Mercy. She had a stick of some kind in one hand, the other held in front of her, fingers straight and palm down. Stumpy has a mat of vines just hovering over the lip of his stump, twitching with each movement of stick or hand.

Mercy glances over to you, then back at the plant elemental.

“Now settle. All done. All done.”

With a quiet whine that you don't want to think about the origin of, Stumpy retreats back into his stump. Mercy doesn't move though, so neither do you. After a few more seconds, there's a slight grumble and the stump itself retracts slightly. At that, Mercy relaxes, dropping her arms to her sides as she turns to face you.

“Hey.”

You nod in greeting, hopping up on a boulder so you're closer to eye level with her. She puts one hand on her hip and looks you up and down.

“That bad, huh?”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

She snorts. “Red, I don't know when I signed up as your therapist, but lets be honest. You only really seek me out like this, with no one else around, if something is bothering you or you're horny. And you look like a kicked puppy so it's probably not the latter.”

You open your mouth but she cuts you off. “I don't mind being your therapist, or your fuck buddy. Don't take me saying that as me complaining. You're a busy guy and you always make time if I ask for it. I'm perfectly content here, when you remember not to play your cards too close to your chest. Thus, therapist. So, what's up?”

You shut your mouth, then open it again. You're going to say something about your warring instincts, not being comfortable splitting people up just because you feel like you should.

“I'm tired of making changes that have consequences I didn't know about.”

Both of you blink.

“Where did that come from?”

“I... I'm not entirely sure. It's been a while coming, I think. Since...”

“Your... episode.”

She chooses her words with exaggerated care, but you still wince.

“Yeah. I evolved because I was hitting the limits of my form, and now I can't leave without going insane? Heroes attack when I should be able to fight them off, but instead they have some magic I've never even heard of and it's only infighting that saves us? I send Feathers on a diplomatic mission and she looses a leg and an eye? What's next? Charlemagne's new sword turns out to be perfect for some hero class I've never heard of, and he spends the rest of forever being killed over and over?”

You stop and take a deep breath. Mercy's hand rubs slow circles across your eye ridges.

“I just... I worry that the next time I buy something from the menu... it's going to hurt someone. Or change me in a way I can't cope with. Or that the next time I have to trust someone to do something on their own it's all going to go terribly wrong.”

Mercy sighs, and slumps down against the boulder you're sat on.

“Red. That's life. I'm sorry but it's true. No one knows every consequence of their actions. You just have to try your best. I know... I know it's different with the menu, when you feel like it's giving you the full picture but then it pulls something else on you. I know it sucks. But you've just got to keep going.”

You let out a long breath. Mercy continues.

“Not what you wanted to hear?”

You shake your head. But her words... do help, in a way. A knot in your stomach unclenches, just a little.

“I'm sorry. I wish I could make it all go away. Sometimes I forget how young you all are. You just have to keep going. Eventually, it gets better.”

You lean down and nuzzle her hair, avoiding the curling horns.

“Thanks, Mercy.”