Xander didn’t try to push away from the tree, content to just extend his senses this time. No pain or danger had brought back his consciousness this time it seemed, so he reached out mentally to what had awakened him. A gentle sort of amusement responded, and a deep mental voice asked,
A gentle breeze rustled their branches, and they both took a moment to enjoy that feeling before the presence responded. That made sense, considering the familiar nature of voice, and its comforting aura. Xander couldn’t bring himself to think of the tree as his mother, but had to admit that their bond felt more than merely magical.
Xander asked with a light mental chuckle.
he thought.
Caretaker chuckled
Xander blinked, and then felt a bit foolish. It was far too easy to rely on old instincts and habits, but then he had another thought.
Xander was absolutely floored at the information. Trees were just… trees. He hadn’t assumed they had genders at all, just seeds. At that thought though, he remembered a few smutty books referring to men’s cum as ‘seed’ and snorted.
Xander could see where this was going
Xander sighed mentally, but he could begrudgingly see how it made sense.
He could feel Caretaker thinking about how to answer.
Xander wasn’t sure what to think about his D.I.E. giving away information like that, but at least the treant hadn’t divulged everything.
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Xander had always considered himself open minded to letting other people be whatever they wanted to be. He didn’t care who slept with whom, or who wanted to change themselves to be something different even if he didn’t really understand it. Now though, now he could empathize with the trans population to a painful degree. Here he was, a plant monster with magic at his call, not to mention being the Lord of a Dungeon who had killed multiple people (even if it was in self defense), and all he could think about was trying to get his dick back.
The emotions were so intense they needed an outlet. He could either laugh about it or cry about it, and he was tired of crying. A snort of amusement turned into a long giggle as he relaxed and willed himself out of the oak. He didn’t bother opening his eyes, just wrapped his arms around the trunk and hugged it for a few long minutes before letting himself sink back inside.
Caretaker chuckled back.
Xander thought about it for another long moment.
His thoughts raced and with dawning wonder that surprised him, he put it all together.
The oak sent him wordless support and love through their bond which helped prevent him from spiralling again. Xander gathered his will and finished putting together his new perspective.
—--------------------------
Begrudgingly forcing himself to leave the safety of his tree, Xander headed out to find Mr. Sinclair. Wandering out of the secret grove naked once more wasn’t quite as distressing as it had been, but he still would have preferred to have clothes. The dozen or so oak trees were all roughly the same size as Ma’ha’Zhanaeus, probably to act as camouflage, but they were also hidden inside the now familiar walls of a room of his dungeon. It took Xander a minute to locate the hidden wall with the help of his bond, but then he found himself back in the regular halls, and a message popped up.
Oh good, I see you are awake. Come find me in the control room when you can, please.
Well, at least Mr. Sinclair seemed to be in a reasonable mood. Below the text was a map of the current layout which made it much easier for him to find his way to the throne room and beyond. He thought briefly about heading back to his art room to grab some of the spare clothes there, but then reluctantly discarded the idea.
A few minutes later, he strode into the command room. The treant looked up from the screen he was working on, and nodded “Good to see you back in one piece, Lord Xander” the treant said before turning back towards the display. “Yeah, good to be back.” Xander replied, trying not to be awkward. “I really, really didn’t like that fight… and I hated dying.” The last few memories came flooding back to him, and he scowled at them. “I don’t suppose that fucking asshole died on the way back out?” he half growled.
“No, as a matter of fact he did not.” Mr. Sinclair replied with a bit of regret in his own voice. Probably more at the loss of resources than anything else Xander presumed. “But taking down two of the invaders did recoup at least some of our losses.”
Xander sighed “I didn’t really want to kill them, but they didn’t seem particularly nice.” He regretted the two deaths, especially since he hadn’t even managed to survive the encounter. It felt a bit pointless to have tried so hard and stained his hands with blood just to fall anyway.
“Of course they weren’t nice,” Mr. Sinclair interrupted his thoughts, “Most adventurers are in it for power, resources, or glory. There are some who see delving dungeons as a way to protect against monster surges, but they are not as common as you might think.”
“That’s… somehow disappointing.” Xander said. He didn’t want to believe that, but he doubted the D.I.E. was lying to him. “So, when is the next emergency? I mean, you said it could take days for me to revive, right? Does that mean there are more groups about to try their luck?”
Mr. Sinclair looked up at him with an expression full of wry amusement. The treant’s eyes flicked over Xander’s body briefly, making him want to blush or cover himself with his hands, but he suppressed the urge as their gazes met. “Actually, I have really good news regarding that, Dungeon Lord Xander. Several parties of adventurers have attempted to invade the dungeon again while you were recovering, but it seems the locals aren’t quite up to par with the group that you faced. None of them even made it to the throne room, and the last group was discussing amongst themselves that if they failed the dungeon would be considered off limits until stronger teams could be brought in.” The dungeon interface entity looked entirely too smug as he related the information, but Xander couldn’t really blame him.
“So, how much time do we have then? I’d really rather be doing some art or studying up on the world than killing people.”
“Oh, you have plenty of work to do on the dungeon too, and I believe you should have leveled up even though the last one got away.” Mr. Sinclair said, but when Xander’s face fell, the treant added almost casually, “So I figure you only have about two weeks of vacation time before you’ll be assaulted by a credible threat again.”