Parts of this fic have been inspired by the fantastic MF story, "Heaven and Hell", written by DarkStarShadow, to whom this story is dedicated.
Read and enjoy.
An Epiphany in GreenAlexander Bly swore that this injustice would go down in the annals of history as a blot upon the proud legacy of magic.
His narrowed gaze fell across the inhabitants of the hollowed out room of the magnificent tree they affectionately called 'Rootcore', and they unflinchingly glared back. He opened his mouth to speak, but an arch of Madison Rocca's sceptical eyebrow stopped him from doing so. He tried again, but Nick Russell's steady, intense gaze held him dumb. Even as he struggled to get a word of defence out of his mouth, Chip Thorne's accusing stare, and the amused cock of Vida Rocca's head had sealed his lips.
"I say, guys," he managed feebly in the end, for Xander was not one whose lips it was possible to seal for great lengths of time, "you've got to have some consideration."
"Consideration?" Chip snorted. "Where was your consideration when the rest of us were studying here in Rootcore –"
" – not to mention getting suddenly sprung upon by an Underworld demon that was a major pain in the neck," Vida muttered.
"—while you," Chip continued with righteous indignation, "went on a date."
Xander raised an eyebrow. "You say it like it's a bad thing. Might I tell you, Chip, that my date yesterday was no better than facing an ambush of Hideacs. She just refused to be satisfied! She refused to let me talk! She – "
"Xander." Nick's voice, cool, calm and incisive, stopped Xander's flood of eloquence. "Whatever your date may have been like, the fact remains that you didn't come here yesterday."
"And there wasn't a word from you about it, either," Madison added, that shapely eyebrow still raised.
Xander realised he had to concede that fact. "Okay, fine, that was my mistake, I'm sorry. But!" He slammed his palms on the round wooden table they were sitting at. "You can't do this to me!"
"On the contrary," Vida said, smirking, "I think it's pretty mild. All you have to do is spend the rest of the day here, clean the base, feed Fireheart, and get some studying done. What's so bad about that?"
"I'm afraid, Vida," Xander said quietly, "your and my definitions of 'bad' have a great abyss of difference between them."
"Whatever it is, Daggeron is expecting some progress on that new hybrid you were growing –"
" – or trying to grow," Chip sniggered, much to Xander's indignation.
" – by tomorrow, as well," Vida finished.
"Really? He is expecting progress, is he?" Xander threw his arms up. "What about work? And my social life? It'll take me two days just to complete all the stuff you just specified!"
Madison stood up. "Think about it, Xander. It could've been a lot worse. I think you've got off pretty lightly."
Nick was quick to concur. "Definitely." He glanced at his watch. "Time to go back. We'll explain to Toby, Xander."
"Yeah," Chip said, grinning. "We'll tell him that you're preoccupied with some 'unspecified engagement'."
Vida got up as well, the amused smirk still etched on her lips. "In other words, we'll just tell him you've taken a voluntary holiday."
The four Mystics began to move out of Rootcore. "See you, Xander!"
Xander collapsed into a wooden chair, chin on palms and a scowl twisting his lips. "And they call this mild?"
The sorry-looking potted stump on the table – the 'hybrid' that he had been trying to magically cultivate – withered a little more, as if in sympathy.
A blot upon history, indeed.
The quiet afternoon, radiant with soft sunlight filtering in between the trees, dappling onto the leaf-covered forest floor; resplendent with buzz of busy insects, and filled with a serenity that was a wonder to behold, found Xander Bly in Rootcore, hunched over a potted stump, entrenched in a mood whose blackness belied the delightful weather.
His and his fellow Mystics' revered mentors, Sorceress Udonna, and her bumbling but good-hearted assistant Clare, had gone to address a small magical disturbance in the other end of the woods, while the Solaris Knight, Daggeron, had left for… some 'unspecified engagement'. The absolute solitude with which he had been left in Rootcore and the unwillingness of his hybrid to respond to his spells, added to the decided reluctance of his brain to absorb complex magical theory, had left Xander in what might be termed as a volatile mood.
"I hate this place," he murmured sullenly, cradling his chin in his palm.
A gentle breeze blew through the base.
Xander snapped.
"I hate this place!" he yelled, standing up with a ferocious abruptness that knocked his chair onto the floor. A deep and lingering silence followed, the depth of which unnerved Xander even more. It seemed that time had at least congealed – if not frozen – and there wasn't even the faintest murmur from what had previously been a lively afternoon.
"Okay, okay, no need to get hostile here," Xander said, laughing nervously, not sure even why he was saying it. "Me? Hate? No, no, no, mate, o'course not…"
Time reverted back to its original course, and Xander straightened his chair and sat down, considerably shaken.
What had just happened?
He stared at his stumped hybrid, fingers drumming nervously on the wooden table. There had been a tremendous upsurge of magical power in the air, the tendrils of which his perception had been barely able to grasp. Something had responded to its outburst. Something powerful.
Xander ran through his options. There was no living soul present there except him, unless he counted Fireheart. But the dragon would never be able to project such a powerful magical aura all of a sudden, particularly in response to a comment that he had made. Besides, Fireheart had always bonded more with Nick, Clare and Phineas.
Then that meant…
What was it that Daggeron had said, all that time ago, when he first entered Rootcore?
"It's nice to see you again."
Not, "Home Sweet Home," or "Good to be back home again," or "Where's the fridge? I'm starving" – just "It's nice to see you again." Xander had wondered back then, what that meant, but had never really bothered to pay much attention to it – he had been too busy sulking over how Daggeron was supposedly 'bossing them around.' But now, that simple greeting seemed to take on a meaning of frightening new proportions.
Had it been Rootcore itself that had just responded to him?
Upon retrospection, it seemed quite plausible. The tree often did seem to have a mind of its own. Xander would often sense a vague field of magical energy coming off the tree – a pleasant, constant hum he had always thought to be a consequence of his familiarity with the place – a place he was fast starting to consider his third home, right after the RockPorium. What if it was something more than that? What if it was not just a tree, not just the Mystics' headquarters, but also something actually sentient?
A shiver ran down Xander's spine.
Maybe he ought to have realised this sooner – he was the Green Magician, after all, and nature was supposed to be his specialty. Maybe that's why Daggeron was so disappointed with him back then. He had been so obsessed with himself, with his own life, that he had forgotten what the true essence of being a Green Magician was – to surrender to your surroundings, to empathise, to become one with nature, to tap into the incredible wells of power that it held.
Xander leaned back against his chair, closing his eyes, surrendering himself to the peace of the afternoon.
He forced away the sleep that inevitably teased at the edges of his consciousness, and tried to spread his perceptive sense. Waves of that distant power lapped gently against the shore of his mind, still tantalisingly out of reach. Rootcore… His brow furrowed, and he reached deeper, and then…
The tree answered him.
"Green Mystic."
"R-Rootcore…?" Xander whispered wonderingly, still not daring to open his eyes.
"If you want to contact me, you will have to do better than that."
Xander fought the urge to scowl. He had to get past petty tempers and…
"Welcome to your true place, Xander Bly."
… The world exploded.
Just as simple as that. Nothing more.
Nothing less.
In one moment, he was sitting in the Tree base, struggling to make contact with the mind of a sentient tree, and the next, his world had gone completely blank, filled with a whiteness that hurt his eyes. He found he was no longer sitting on anything – he was standing on nothing either; he was nothing. He fell to his knees on the white nothing, shielding his eyes from the glare, palms over his face. "W-What's going on?"
"You will see."
The voice sounded so close – so gravely, so coarse, so old, so tree-like, that Xander forced his palms away from his eyes, to see the flickering black silhouette of somebody approaching him from the distant white. A long cloak fluttered in an unseen breeze as the silhouette walked in long, slow, purposeful strides toward him. Who's that?
"Xander."
Who…?
Tendrils of colour were starting to bleed into the white, and the silhouette was fast starting to lose substance, merging into the colours. "Wait!" Xander cried, scrambling to his feet. "Who are you? Rootcore? Rootcore!"
His world was starting to reassemble again, and all traces of what he had just experienced were gone. Xander was thrown rather unceremoniously back into the real world, and literally fell out of his chair. He opened his eyes and staggered to his feet. "Whoa." He looked up at the magnificent tree all around him, still struggling to digest what had just happened. He had talked to the tree. The tree had talked to him.
Cats, he could understand. Bats, yes. Frogs, maybe. Dragons was pushing it a little, but he could deal with it.
But the bloody tree, dammit!
It had to be something special.
And who was that person, that silhouette? What was the tree trying to say to him?
There's more to this than just that freaky trance, Xander thought determinedly. And I'm going to find out what it is. He perceived a certain amusement in the air, pricking his consciousness like static electricity. Xander's eyes widened.
Was the tree laughing at him?
"Not when I'm going to figure out your secrets, mate," Xander muttered, striding toward the hollowed-out staircase of the tree that led to the floor where Udonna, Daggeron and Clare's rooms were located. He leaned against the wooden banister, feeling around with his hands. There had to be some kind of groove for a door or window that led to a secret room holding the core to the magic he had felt… some kind of clue to the identity of the silhouette that he had just seen…
No… not here… maybe I should try higher up… I… Xander felt a sudden crackle of powerful magical energy right under his fingertips. Wha –?
The voice resounded within his head again.
"You amuse me, Green Mystic."
"Oh I do, do I?" Xander tried to pull away his hand, but it seemed as though someone had stuck it there with quick-drying cement. "Let go!"
"Abandon your human perceptions. Think about it. You're searching for me within me."
"I think I get what Nick was complaining about when he was talking about hearing Koragg in his head," Xander grunted, grabbing his hand with his other one and placing a foot on the wood for leverage, trying to pull his stuck hand away.
"Very good, Xander. You've realised the situation. Now try to make the connection."
"Connection? What connection?" The energy holding Xander's hand crackled fiercely. "Listen, mate, I have no idea what you're talking about, but –" Xander tried his patent charming smile in between his efforts to get his hand unstuck, " –but, I'm going to try and figure it out now. Maybe you could help me in that by letting my hand go, you know?"
A slow breeze blew through the base, almost as if the tree was sighing.
Xander was starting to get desperate. "We will talk, I promise! No need to start with introductions, since you seem to know me pretty well already, but I'm sure there are other things we can discuss and –"
"This is one thing you cannot solve by just talking, Xander."
"What do you mean byyyyaaaarrrggghh!!" His question ended with a strangled yell as the previously solid wooden wall he had been struggling against mysteriously opened up, and sucked him in, in a blaze of light and magical energy.
The wand that had fallen out of his pocket came to a rolling stop at the foot of the stairs.
Xander fell through a tunnel of moving, shifting colours, in a long, long, slow fall that both seemed to stretch on forever, and seemed to finish in an instant. Okay, Xander, he told himself, half-despairingly, if you've not felt like a male Alice in Wonderland these past few months, now would be the perfect time.
He finally landed, hard, and on his back, knocking all the breath out of his lungs. Gasping, struggling to regain his breath, he rolled to his side on the coarse wooden floor. Okay, so that means that there's a good chance that I'm still somewhere in Rootcore. He scrambled to his feet, and looked around him, to face a perfectly ordinary-looking empty tree room.
Well, as ordinary as it could get, anyway. But considering that Xander had genuinely been expecting a table with bottles marked "Drink Me" on them, it was a decided improvement.
"Okay," he said loudly, still breathing heavily, "Okay. You've brought me here. What's next?"
"Funny you should ask that."
"Why?"
"What's next is entirely up to you to decide."
"Oh, great." Xander rolled his eyes and paced the room. "Okay – okay. I decide… that I should get out of this room."
Again that spark of amusement in the tree's aura, which only irritated Xander even more. Xander, do you realise that a tree is laughing at you?
"I'm afraid, Xander, you're getting confused between a wish and a decision." The tree's voice in his head paused. "Not that you've even got your wishes granted thus far."
"If you're talking about Jenji, I'd strongly suggest that you discontinue." Remembering how annoying Jenji had been when the cat-genie had first joined their motley group was doing nothing to ease his irritation. "You've contacted me today; annoyed me to hell, and brought me all the way here for a reason. Show me that reason."
"Very well."
The air shimmered around him, and Xander sensed that something big was coming up. He could feel a tremendous amount of magical energy starting to gather. "How much, really, has Udonna told you of the Mystics that came before you and your companions?"
"Not much, really," Xander said, after a moment or two of thinking, "she generally tends to get emotional when it comes to talking anything about Lienbow, so we don't push her too much on that subject. She has spoken of the Great War, though." Xander bit his lip thoughtfully. "Daggeron tells the occasional story of a Mystic he has worked with or fought against before, but come to think of it, no one's really told us much about our direct predecessors – the Red, Blue, Green, Yellow and Pink Mystics. Weird, huh?"
"It is not 'weird', Xander. It is a sign of you and your companions' ignorance and utter negligence."
Xander sighed. "We finally get talking, and you're back to criticising already?"
"My apologies." Xander's eyebrows shot up. "It is time, Xander, to get acquainted with your… roots." Again that spark of amusement.
Oh great. A gargantuan magical tree cracking lame puns. I have indeed seen everything. Xander quickly broke out of his irritated and sarcastic bent of mind as a small ball of light, crackling with tremendous energy came before him, floating in midair. It slowly expanded, almost like a flower bud being magically teased open, to reveal what seemed like an aural projection, a magical window into the room in Rootcore where they usually met and spent time.
"What is this supposed to mean?"
"Wait and watch."
Looking closely at the room, Xander noticed a bunch of differences – subtle ones, but differences nonetheless. Though he wasn't able to describe how, exactly, the room seemed to look… younger. Fresher. The air was filled with the buzz of an inherent vitality. The familiar crystal ball on the centre of the table didn't have that persistent black tinge at the edges that Xander was used to; it radiated a lovely golden colour that pleased the eye.
"This place…" Xander breathed, "is this the past? Future? Alternate dimension? Parallel universe?"
"A bit of everything, I suppose. But talking in the terms you wish to hear, then yes, it is the past."
They were interrupted by a longhaired man striding inside, purposeful and supremely confident, attired in long robes of a deep, rich red. He seated himself at the table, in the seat usually reserved for Nick. He must be the Red Magician, then. It's Lienbow! He had a handsome, experienced face, the intensity of his light eyes – eyes that looked eerily like Nick's – making up for the lack of youth in his sharp features. He presently seemed very impatient, constantly glancing toward the doorway through which he had entered.
"Wow…" Xander ran a hand through his hair. "I can imagine why Daggeron felt so intimidated."
The tree's aura rang with amusement once again. "Indeed. Lienbow did have a dominating personality."
Finally, someone else entered the room, someone Xander had never seen before. And that was something to regret, he felt, for the woman who had just entered was the most beautiful one he had ever seen in his life. Long chestnut curls cascaded down a back covered by a long robe of a light, soothing blue, framing a delicately oval face, out of which shone two keenly intelligent aquamarine eyes. She walked toward the table and sat at the place reserved for Madison. "Lienbow," she said, voice light and rather vague, almost as if she were talking from under water, "have the others come yet?"
"They have not, in spite of the severity of the situation at hand," Lienbow said, making an irritated, flicking gesture with one hand. "And for even Daggeron to indulge in this sort of tardiness…"
"Whoa," Xander said. "Who's the hot lady?"
Somehow the tree managed to project an aura that reminded Xander strongly of a disapproving parent. "She is – or rather, was – Marina, the Blue Magician. Immensely talented in the arts of divination, but she had a secretive and cunning side to her that I do not think Lienbow entirely approved of."
"I find it amazing that Lienbow approved of anything at all," Xander said dryly.
He heard the slow creak of the entrance opening again, heralding the entry of a much younger and immensely pretty Udonna, a younger, fitter Daggeron, who presently radiated a nervousness so uncharacteristic of the Daggeron Xander knew that the latter was completely floored; and a young, cheerful looking couple, decked in robes of yellow and pink, that Xander had never seen before. They must be the Yellow and Pink Magicians.
"Sorry we're late," the Yellow Magician said, his laugh lines creasing as he grinned at his leader. "A small case of purple warts in one of the villages. A goblin who consumed too many stickleberries. He showed some pretty interesting symptoms…"
"Your apprentice was so worried," the Pink Magician said, a smirk gracing her elegant features, glancing toward a nervous Daggeron, "but I assured him that you would forgive him. Am I right, Lienbow?"
Lienbow's eyes narrowed. "Of course," he grunted.
"Okay…" Xander murmured, "so that's Udonna and Daggeron. What about the other two?"
"They are the Yellow and Pink Magicians, as I am sure you must have realised by now. Arckon was immensely talented at potion making, and in consequence, the Healer of the team. Or, in your terms, a 'medic'. Serena, mistress of wind, was the harbinger of revolution – she had a penchant for inventing new spells." Xander felt a wave of nostalgia from the tree. "Two delightful young people, very devoted to the team's and the magical settlements' interests."
"I see. Amazing." Xander suddenly had a giddy feeling that he was in way over his head. He was talking to a tree… witnessing the past… the past…
"There's someone missing," he said.
"You will see."
The entrance creaked open once again, and a tall, dark-haired man came in, his shaggy locks hanging up to his shoulders, adorned in a long, dark-green cloak, the hem of which was caked with dirt. Though not handsome in the strictest sense, he had strong, sturdy features, and a pair of warm, deep-brown eyes that eyed the group in the room with affection, amusement and some degree of consternation, when the gaze landed upon Lienbow.
Xander felt his breath catch in his chest. That is… was…
The tree's nostalgia seemed to reach a peak. "That was the Green Magician, Brackiss. Your predecessor, Xander."
Xander grinned. "You wouldn't know that from the looks."
Again that disapproval. "Take this seriously, Xander. Brackiss was a great man, a trifle clumsy, perhaps, but a Magician greatly devoted to his work. Which is probably what your mentors presently demand from you."
Appropriately chastised, Xander remained quiet.
"Welcome, Brackiss," Lienbow said, rather coldly. "Would your reason also be goblin warts, or perhaps a petulant plant?"
Brackiss ran a hand through his hair as he seated himself in the chair Xander usually sat in, a sheepish smile on his face. It was a gesture Xander found very familiar. "I'm sorry, Lienbow. I… I lost track of the time."
"While talking to your garden, I suppose?" Arckon asked, a sly grin on his face.
Brackiss glared at him. "No. I was preoccupied with developing an enhancement spell for the healing petals of the Garcia flower."
"The Garcia flower enhancement spell?" Xander whispered, frowning. "But that's elementary herbology."
"Much of what you learn today in Herbology was invented and developed by Brackiss."
Xander's eyebrows shot up. Why hadn't he been aware of that?
Lienbow cleared his throat. "Anyhow, we will return to the true purpose of our assembling here."
"Wait a second," Daggeron said. "What about Calendor?"
Udonna spoke up. "I met him earlier today, and he regretted to inform you all that he wouldn't be able to make it here today. He wasn't very specific as to the reason, but he did seem to be in a great hurry."
"There's something that's just not right with Calendor these days," Serena said thoughtfully. "He seems so secretive suddenly. And his spellwork is starting to pay the price for his lapses in concentration."
"And of your sister, Udonna?" Marina asked, those keen eyes alighting on the younger woman.
"She's… training," Udonna said, an apologetic smile on her lips. "And since her pregnancy, she has become… less enthusiastic about venturing out much."
"The meeting will have to proceed without them, then," Lienbow said decisively. "Our spies and watchers of the Underworld inform me that the Master has started to gain immense amounts of power, magic and demons to do his evil bidding. I fear that his attacks might not just stop with the Magical Realm."
Arckon narrowed his eyes. "He is targeting the human world?"
"Yes," Lienbow said grimly.
"But that could have terrible consequences," Brackiss said. "The humans are not ready to face magic of any kind, leave alone dark magic. They could be wiped out."
"A war at this stage seems inevitable," Lienbow said. "We must start gathering our own forces, for we must seal the Master and his demons before he gains access to the human world."
"But what of its consequences on the Magical Realm?" Udonna asked softly.
Lienbow sighed wearily. "We will do our best, but… sacrifices have to be made. We are under an obligation to protect the human world, at all and any cost."
"Even Bowen?" she asked, in an even softer voice, a hand moving toward her belly.
Silence descended upon the room, suffocating and resounding.
Xander licked his dry lips, completely absorbed. "Bowen…?"
The tree didn't answer.
Daggeron broke the silence. "You need not worry, Udonna. I will protect you and Bowen with my life. I give you my solemn promise." A small cat's head popped out from the lamp he was holding, that Xander was noticing for the first time. Jenji! "And when Master Daggeron gives his solemn promise, you can be pretty sure that he'll keep it. Or at least try his best to."
"Jenji!" Daggeron hissed in irritation, clamping the genie back into the lamp. But Udonna was already smiling; the discomfort in the room decreased somewhat. "Thank you, Daggeron."
Marina spoke. "As Lienbow said, a war against the Master is inevitable. The future is wavering, uncertain, marred by great darkness, but of this I can be absolutely certain."
"But to seal evil of that magnitude…" Arckon shook his head. "It would require our combined magical strength, and beyond. It could consume all of us."
"He's right," Serena said. "And there may not be any Mystics left afterward to ensure the continued safety of both Realms."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that," Marina said quietly.
Brackiss frowned. "What do you mean?"
"There is a prophecy," the Blue Magician said, "that tells of the rebirth of the Mystics of the Five Colours, who will emerge from the human world to assume their destiny when evil rises once again."
Daggeron's brow furrowed. "From the human world?"
"Yes." Marina looked at him, her beautiful eyes filled with startling intensity. "Do not ask me how, but that is what the Prophecy states. The future of the Magical Realm rests on the shoulders of those five humans, just as the future of the Human World now rests on the shoulders of us Mystics."
Xander bit his lip, looking away. The future of the Magical Realm…
"Even so," Brackiss said smiling, standing up, "Rootcore will definitely survive to be their mentor." He stroked the wall affectionately. "After all, she is something I have grown."
Xander staggered. What? Brackiss had… grown Rootcore?
Arckon grinned. "That is only if your successor has the ability and devotion to connect to Rootcore in the first place."
Brackiss didn't miss a beat. "Of course. After all, he will be my successor."
Xander felt a sudden heat rising in his chest – an emotion he couldn't quite describe. Was it guilt? Regret? Amazement? Incredulity? Or just plain sadness? A gentle breeze blew about his still form, almost as if the tree's aura was putting a symbolic hand on his shoulder.
"If I manage to survive," Daggeron added, "I will train them to the best of my ability. They will be worthy successors."
Lienbow nodded. "I appreciate your earnestness, Daggeron, Brackiss, but we must return to the matter at hand." He leaned forward. "The magical settlement in the West side of the woods has –"
The rest of Lienbow's words were lost as the crackle of energy filled Xander's ears and the room he was looking into started to fade and shrink. Finally, the scene reduced itself to the small ball of energy, which flitted away into nothing. Xander stepped back until he reached the wall of the tree-room, whereupon he slid to a sitting position on the floor. He bent his head forward, resting his elbows on his bent knees.
"Xander?"
"How come I didn't know all of that until now?" Xander asked quietly. "What my predecessors were… what they did… what they were forced to sacrifice…" He shook his head. "Why didn't either Udonna or Daggeron tell me anything?"
"Think about it, Xander. Would anything that they would have said have as great an impact as what you just saw?"
"I… I suppose not." There was a moment of silence before Xander continued. "And Rootcore… thanks."
"Thanks?"
"Yeah… thank you for showing that to me." Xander smiled softly. "I guess I was kinda losing sight of my priorities before this. I realise that now." The smile morphed into a chuckle. "And now I know why Daggeron was really disappointed in me before."
"Yes. He had hoped you would connect to me immediately, just as Brackiss had envisioned you would."
"Yeah… and to think that I didn't even know you were a sentient entity until this afternoon."
"Now is not a bad time to start, either."
"Yeah… not a bad time…" Xander whispered.
For a new beginning…
Daggeron entered Rootcore, placing the herbs he had collected for dinner on the table beside Udonna's cauldron. He looked around the Tree base, feeling the same upsurge of magical energy that had interrupted Xander in his despondence earlier that afternoon.
Rootcore?
A certain glint at the foot of the stairs that led to the higher levels of the tree caught his eye, and he strode toward it. He picked it up, the long wooden stick with the green Minotaur head shaped crystal looking very familiar.
Xander's wand? And why wasn't it in its usual cell phone form?
Daggeron looked round as the entrance to Rootcore creaked open, and the other young Mystics entered. Xander was not among them.
"Hello, Daggeron," Madison said cheerfully as they entered. "Has Xander finished all that he was supposed to do?"
"I bet he hasn't," Vida said, grinning.
"What do you mean?" Daggeron asked, frowning. "Xander wasn't here when I came in."
Chip cocked his head. "Well, I'm pretty sure Xander hasn't exited the Magical Realm; we would've known if he had."
"Maybe he finished his work and is in the woods somewhere?" Nick suggested.
Daggeron help up the wand. "Without his morpher? I don't think even Xander is stupid enough to do that."
"Don't worry; I'm here."
All of them turned at the voice to see Xander coming down the staircase, a wide grin on his face. "Xander!" Vida exclaimed. "What were you doing up there?"
The grin became sly; secretive. "Nothing much."
Madison folded her arms, looking around her. "You didn't really get any work done, did you," she said dryly.
"No," Xander said cheerfully. "Not the kind of work you're thinking of, anyway."
Daggeron narrowed his eyes. There was something… different… about Xander suddenly… Then it suddenly clicked. "Xander… did you… Rootcore…?"
Xander smiled. "Yeah." A certain amount of seriousness settled onto his face. "And Daggeron… I know now what you wanted me to do… to be. And I give you my solemn word that I will not let their sacrifices go in vain."
Daggeron smiled. "I'm glad, Xander."
Nick's eyebrows shot up. "What are you two talking about?"
Xander laughed and grabbed his potted hybrid from the table. "I guess I'll also continue to work on this." He winked. "Who knows, Rootcore might someday get a companion."
Daggeron's smile widened. "I think she'll like that."
"I never thought the day would arrive when Xander would confuse me," Chip muttered, shaking his head.
"Come on, mates, we ought to be leaving," Xander said, taking his morpher from Daggeron and striding toward the door, patting Rootcore's walls once, almost affectionately. Four very bewildered Magicians followed him outside, through the woods and back into the Human Realm.
Daggeron watched them go, before speaking. "There is hope for him, yet. For all of them." He smiled wistfully. "Lienbow and the others would've been proud to see them now. Don't you think so?"
A soft breeze bent the Tree's branches, as if in agreement.
Finis