Season 2. Chapter 5: Suggestion

Chapter: The Search for New Ground

By morning, the mist had grown thinner—as if the forest itself sensed the shifting momentum. The Traveler Outpost buzzed with quiet activity: construction crews fine-tuning the amphitheater, Yotel and Garrick adjusting stabilizers, and Nico handing out freshly-roasted root buns from the stove wagon parked near the Vita stream.

But inside the central discussion lodge, a loose circle of figures gathered around a levitating terrain map projected above the table: Oliver, Fern, Riven, Cylde, Zack, Yotel, and Basil.

The topic: Where to move next.

The future of the Travelers depended on it.

---

"Alright," Riven said, pacing. "We've all agreed this land's not going to hold forever. It's safe—for now. But if even half the people signing up actually show by August..."

"We'll be overcrowded and exposed," Fern finished calmly, arms crossed. "The mist is protective, but not welcoming. We need something else."

There was a beat of silence.

Then Cylde, adjusting the black side of his asymmetrical suit, raised a tentative hand. His red-and-blue irises flicked nervously between the others.

"U-um. I saw... I mean, on one of my walks with Basil... I noticed a tall forest about five miles northeast. The trees were unusually vertical—old growth, straight trunks, very... tower-like?"

He glanced at Basil for support.

Basil nodded slowly. "I know the one. Quiet. Lots of owl totems and wind."

Riven rubbed his chin. "That place might give us height advantage. Less swampy, too."

Zack, leaned against the wall with arms crossed and white headband catching the light, said nothing. As always, his silence spoke volumes, but he remained near Oliver, listening.

Yotel tapped a few symbols on his floating interface, maps zooming out and in again. "That might be viable. Still..." he hesitated. "If we're dreaming a little bigger, we could try for a rare forest—something more unique. Like one of those faded spirit-woods or a crystallized red forest. Gives us mystique. Prestige. Something symbolic."

Fern glanced sharply at him. "Red forests are incredibly volatile. They're beautiful, yes—but they feed off dormant spirit leyline scars. That's not sustainable for settlement. Half of them burn out within a cycle. The other half twist."

Yotel raised both hands. "Alright, alright. No corrupted mystic trees. Got it."

Cylde shrank slightly. "So… not the tall one either?"

"No," Fern corrected, softening her tone. "That may still be our best bet. If it's rooted in older soil."

Then, Basil, who had been silent until now, slowly spoke:

"…There's a boreal zone farther north."

Everyone turned.

"It's not flashy," Basil continued. "But the land is calm. Pines. Snowgrass. Stable flora. Plenty of natural water channels beneath. I grew up near one. It breathes slowly—which is what we'll need if we want to grow with it."

Fern blinked once. "A boreal forest..."

"It's neutral," Oliver said. "Unaffiliated land. No guilds, no watchers."

Yotel glanced at the terrain map. "That area has a natural stone barrier on the eastern end, and a flat incline perfect for housing expansion."

Riven clapped once. "That's what I like to hear."

Fern nodded. "It's not dramatic. But it's reliable. It won't fight us. It'll grow with us."

Zack still said nothing, but he gave a very subtle nod. Approval.

Riven smirked. "Alright then. Final call?"

Everyone exchanged glances.

Cylde: "Tall trees... still pretty."

Yotel: "Boreal is smart. Boring, but smart."

Fern: "Boring keeps people alive."

Basil: "I'll scout the soil patterns personally."

Oliver: "We prepare to migrate by end of month."

Zack: (silent agreement)

Riven: "Then it's decided."

He tapped the map, locking the coordinates.

Boreal Zone Alpha-9.

A new home. A true foundation.

Not just a place to hide.

But a place to become.

---

As they dispersed, Fern walked beside Oliver, murmuring quietly:

"You know... for all your floating and drifting, you chose well."

Oliver gave a small nod. "Sometimes the quietest forests echo the longest."

And far to the north, where pine trees whispered beneath northern winds, the land was already waiting.