“Blessed forest, what is happening?” Nest moved closer to the lioness. “How are you alive?”

  The small figure lifted its head to look at the dwarf. After a moment, it stood and padded over to the comparatively giant being.

  *Bop*,

  “Oww!” Nest took a step back. As information crept into his mind. The small lion had been mad about being woken up, so smacked Nest on the nose.

  The hit hadn’t exactly hurt. Nest’s response was more one of habit. Like when he bumped into a table too gently to do damage, but he still formed the response without thinking.

  “That’s enough out of you-” Nest was cut off as the lion took solid form and clattered back onto the table. It was once more in the position it was originally carved in. “What? Hey! Wake up-”

  The dwarf stopped and thought about that for a moment. Was he telling a lioness figurine to wake up? He sharply stood straight, tugging at his vest and looking side to side. Was he going crazy?

  “The lion was for sure moving. Right?” He looked back down at it. It was still frozen in its original shape. “And I found the hidden tree?” He slowly reached down and pulled out the knife that was stowed away in the leather sheath his old carving knife previously rested in.

  The ardite blue reflected the warm lantern light of his shop. He rolled it in his hand. Having lived his entire life in a dungeon and having traded a few dungeon made goods in that time, it was clear that this item was not made by the dungeon. It was the masterwork of one of the guild’s forge monks, the only people with the skill to forge ardite in the empire. But despite its quality, it lacked the fluidity of a dungeon made item. The blade, as well as the pins that held the bone handle in place were ardite.

  A dungeon typically grew an item together. It looked eerily perfect when you focused on it. This had imperfections, no matter how small they may be.

  “So the tree didn’t make it. That’s good. It must have just been in possession of the knife when the blade called out to me.” He thought about that for a moment. What if the knife had called him and the tree didn’t want him to take the blade. His heart sank into his shoes for a moment and it felt like every heartbeat was shaking his entire body.

  He calmed when he realised an important fact. “Right. If the tree didn’t want me to have the blade, it would have just killed me. Instead, it sent me back here.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  *Knock Knock- Creak*,

  “Nesty?” The gentle, familiar voice of Nest’s mother spoke through the opening door of the shop. “Nesty, are you in here? It’s getting late.”

  In a panic, Nest tucked away his blade. “Ah- Yes,” He dusted any wood shavings off the table in a rush and picked up the lioness, needing to hide it. “Just finishing some- uhh-”

  It was too late. Nest’s mother entered the door and caught Nest in the act. “That’s beautiful.” She pushed her chin out as she looked across the dark room. With the night cycle in the dungeon started, the only light was the dim lantern that lit Nest’s desk. “Whoever that is for is one lucky lady!”

  “Lady?” Nest asked. “What do you mean a lady?”

  “Nesty-” His mother looked at him with a look that said, ‘come on, I’m not stupid,’ “A young man staying late at work to carve a female lion either has a set of lions- which you don’t- or is making the lioness for a woman.” His mother walked across the room with the power and grace of a warrior monk. She was not a sinner, but the way she moved, and the way Nest knew she could fight could convince him she was.

  The Order of the Forest was a group of monks dedicated to the traditions of the Clan of the Hidden Tree. Ceremonially, they were warriors who trained in the ancient martial arts that were supposedly passed down from the tree itself to the first dwarves who settled in the mountain. Many people, Nest’s family included, believed that the clan had been in the mountain as long as the core itself. Maybe even longer. That one day, a dwarf was mining through the stone and came across the core when it was young. When it served a different sin.

  Some people, the more radical dwarves, believed that the Hidden Tree created the dwarves. That the mountain itself was the birthplace of all their species.

  “Actually…” Nest lowered his head slightly with embarrassment. “The figure is for you. I wanted to give it to you for your birthday tomorrow.”

  His mother stopped in her tracks. Even the abrupt movement somehow looked smooth and fluid. She stood straight and her shoulders lowered as her head tilted. A big smile formed across her face. “For me?”

  Nest nodded. “When I think of the lioness, I think of you.” Nest shared a half-embarrassed smile.

  Before his eyes were even able to come back up and meet his mother’s, she was standing in front of him, taking the lioness from his hands. “It’s beautiful.” She held the possession in her hands and Nest could see the influence of their zone play through her eyes.

  This was one of a very few times Nest had ever seen his mother allow greed to impact her. One of the main traditions of her order was to resist the influence of the sin that had captured this dungeon during the crusade.

  The tree had once been a Pride dungeon when the world was balanced. Many of the order died protecting the tree when the crusaders came. When they relegated this section of the world as the zone of Greed.

  The tree was forced to give up its own sin and adopt a new one. Its first decree to their people was to never stop resisting. To live a life free of the sins of the world. Such things were for dungeons, not for the people.

  Nest inhaled deeply, scared to share what was coming next. Scared to tell her what had transpired in the recent hours. “I have something else to show you.”