Chapter 1: In Which A Question is Asked Repeatedly and Our Hero Arrives in the Setting
Seed's Story, Chapter 2 : In Which Resistance Is Futile
“We have brought you home,” the trees said.
“Homethey repeated – it wasn’t just one tree speaking, but almost all of them – all the ones that weren’t quite individuals, all the ones whose roots were wrapped around each other in tangles.
“Home.” “Home.”
“No, you took me away from home,” Seed said. He looked around for a path out of this forest, which existed above and below the time of deer. It stretched as endlessly as the forest he had left.
“Home is where you belong. Come back to us,” the trees chorused.
“Back to us.” “Us, us.” “Belong to us.” The rustled it along his spine, dropping the words like rocks in his brain, where they hit the walls of his skull and rebounded. It almost felt like they were ringing bells in his head.
“Belong.”
“…I’ve chosen a different path,” Seed answered, looking down at the ground. They were there, too, but at least he didn’t have to look at them. The knots in the bark of the trees that surrounded him resembled great eyes, like the eyes of an owl. They were eyes, without giving the trees eyes, without ceasing to be bark. Trees without full wills of their own were simple – they could withstand being contradictions like that.
“A bad path,” the trees replied.
“A lonely path,” they added.
“Lonely?” “Lonely?” They rustled a bit, whispering too low for him to make out. They seemed to be gathering up for strength, for unity.
“A bad path can be walked backwards on. Try again.” “Again.” “Again.”
“No,” Seed said.
End of the year is more hectic than ever, yes?
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