A Companion Story to Fire Season: The Morrigan’s Children

Flames at the Old Grove

The smell of smoke hit her first. It was sharp and acrid. It curled around the twisted roots of the old oaks and maples surrounding her. Naya, a tree-kin of the Old Grove, belonged to the Talamh Sidhe, the people of the mound who stayed behind when mankind drove the Tuatha De Dannan from the world. She moved lightly through the charred underbrush, her fingers brushing over the blackened bark. Her heart pounded with the whisper of ash beneath her feet. She could feel the earth's life shiver beneath her. The grove was older than any human memory, older than the houses and roads creeping toward its edges. And now, it was dying.

Behind her, Professor Calloway moved with a scholar's careful precision, notebook clutched in one hand. He had been Naya’s mentor since she first stirred in the deep roots of her tree. He guided her understanding of humans and their strange, destructive ways of navigating the world.

"It's worse than I feared," he murmured, kicking at a blackened stump. "This is more than a careless campfire. Someone's burning sections in patterns. It's like they know exactly which areas will spread the fastest."

For a moment, the air was still. Then the wind kicked up, carrying the scent of smoke and destruction. Naya’s green-tipped hair flew wild in the gusts. Just as she could smell the fire burning nearby, she could feel the presence of humans. In the burnt rubble around her that had been the central grove, she could see the lingering marks of ember-kin.

Her chest burned with urgency as if the earth itself pushed her to act. "We need to stop this," she said. "Before the Old Grove and the entire forest can't recover."

Professor Calloway nodded. "Then we need evidence, Naya. Solid proof of who's behind this."

The green glow of her eyes flared as she extended a hand. The ash and smoke swirled at her fingertips, caught by the invisible current of magic she could command. She traced the edge of the burned sections, feeling the memory of every tree’s last pulse. The energy led her to a scarred hill where the machines had been operating, leaving deep ruts in the soil. The burnt edges of tree roots held the imprint of ember-kin claws mingled with human boots. She clenched her fists.

Professor Calloway scribbled rapidly in his notebook. "The Summer Court might be behind this. Their cinder-kin thrive on heat and chaos; they would see a grove like this as both a weapon and a playground." His voice dropped. "And they’re good at covering their tracks. If we move without proof, no one will believe us."

Naya’s gaze drifted upward. The sky overhead was a black and grey blanket of smoke. She knew if she climbed the next rise, she would be able to see the fires that blazed all the way to the horizon. The Pacific Coast was burning, and it looked like the Summer Court was helping it along.

The canopy of the remaining trees overhead swayed gently, almost pleading. She felt the weight of generations in those leaves, the whispers of birds, and the crawl of insects. A chorus of life swirled around her, and its survival depended on her actions. She inhaled, grounding herself in the forest’s pulse, then let it flow into her limbs. Treekins, like Naya, could channel the energy of the forest into spells of protection, but the work required focus, precision, and a conduit of pure intent.

Naya studied the forest. Fallen trees created natural firebreaks that the Summer agents had overlooked. Full stands of trees stood untouched by flames throughout the grove. Only faint scorch marks on a branch or two revealed where Ember-kin had brushed against them. Nearby, a machine’s heat had warped the moss along a shallow trench. These clues became their guide.

As the sun rose higher, the smoke grew thicker. The clouds that enveloped the area were suffocating. Naya and Calloway stumbled through the smoke. They walked into a clearing where the fire had been strongest. The ground still emanated heat, and the charred roots glowed. Naya knelt and pressed her palms to the earth. Through the dirt, ash, and ember, she felt subtle shifts in the ley lines. The magic of the Emberkin had overlapped with human technology here. The distortions vibrated with raw energy. An energy of a power Naya had never felt before. A power far beyond her own, more powerful and more deadly.

Her heart tightened. Her sister trees, young treekin barely sprouted, were trapped in isolated groves at the edges of the fire. If she could manipulate the ley-line energy, she could redirect the flames, buying time to evacuate them, but it would drain her. And if she failed, she would risk burning alongside the grove she loved.

"We have to try," she whispered. "They won’t stop until everything is ash."

Professor Calloway’s voice was gentle yet firm. "I’ll guide the channeling, Naya. We’ll do it together." His hands hovered above the ground as he traced the ley-line nodes intersecting the grove. "The magic is in the flow. You just need to become part of it."

Naya inhaled the acrid air and closed her eyes. She felt the tremor of the soil and the whisper of the leaves overhead. She felt the pulse of the living roots around her. She let herself sink into the grove’s energy. She extended her consciousness outward. She could sense the flames, the machines that had torn the earth here, and the Ember-kin lurking at the grove’s edge. She could sense the children of the forest, trapped in their glades, unable to flee as the flames bore down on them.

Emerald light surrounded her as she reached out for the energy of the forest around her. As the fire surged, she met it with the cool verdant power of the glade. She twisted and redirected the surging fire away from the Old Grove. Sparks danced around her as the flames gradually receded. In the distance, she heard the shriek and pop of Ember-kin as they realized their flames were being redirected. Slowly, heat patterns shifted, and the blaze stuttered, halting in its path.

Naya dropped to her knees and gasped for breath. Ash rose and settled around her. The forest whispered its gratitude around her, trembling but still alive. Her sisters emerged from their hiding places. New leaf-tipped shoots now swayed in the circle of ash that filled the glade. Beside her, Professor Calloway knelt, his eyes wide with wonder.

"You did it," he said.

Naya shook her head. "We did it,” she said, still trembling. “The forest did it. I just… guided it." Her gaze drifted to the burned hill, where faint traces of ley-line distortion shimmered like ghostly flames. "But they’ll be back. The Summer Court won’t stop."

Calloway put a hand on her shoulder. "Then we’ll be ready. You’ve learned so much, Naya. And the forest… It’s stronger with you at its side."

Her heart lifted slightly. There was still work to do, but for the first time in hours, she allowed herself to hope. The Old Grove had survived. Her sisters had survived. And together, they would protect the forest from those who saw its life as their fuel.

She rose and brushed the ash from her hair. The forest was a heartbeat beneath her feet. The smoke-tinted air pulsed with the living energy of the grove itself. Naya felt ready for whatever came next. With Professor Calloway guiding her and the ancient power of the trees at her back, she was confident they could win. The Summer Court would return. They would bring fire and chaos, but the forest had defenders now. And she would not let the Old Grove fall.

In the face of destruction, hope can still bloom.