Chapter Thirty-Four: The Titans of Rainwood

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 It was a week before the forests of the Rainwood stood before the army. It was the first time the Prince had ever ventured further than the duchy of Forthren. Just the look of the forest was like observing an alien land. The trees were so thick, that the edge of the forest had it's own natural fence. Above the oaks and the maples were the symbols of the Westland, the Titans of Rainwood. Giant behemoths of trees that stood a hundred feet above the others. Though it was the autumn season, many retained their leaves and they stood in the sky like fireworks emanating red, orange and yellow. Early settlers who first came here long before the Litici even existed were so impressed by them, that they took them as a symbol of their power. It would eventually become the symbol of the Kings of the Westland.

"There they are Freedmir!" Jon Malken said with all the giddiness of a child. Even indifferent Freedmir was taken aback by the sight of them. From a distance one would think they were red and orange mountains.

"My lord, they're incredible!"

"They are!" it was the first time in his life he had laid eyes on the legendary giants, "But Freedmir," Jon nudged his horse close to his companion's, "Even these trees are poultry compared to the Colossus of Rainguard."

"I can't imagine."

"It must have been a sight, my friend. It was what Rainguard was built around. It was the embodiment of power for the Rorchistyr Dynasty. It stood twice as tall as any of what you see here."

"How could it? The wind would have ripped it down!" even though it was a calm day, there was heavy swaying for those that reached the greatest heights. Some between three hundred and five hundred into the air. How could the tree of legend possibly stand higher than that?

"It was planted by the men of the First Empire. It was just another tree back then, but they fertilized it with the blood of the titan king. Feeding of the blood of the monster, it grew and grew. Such a thing cannot be brought down. Not by wind or rain, not even the greatest storms could tear it down. It was the heart of the Westland, and Horith Ryden saw fit to burn it!"

After Horith Ryden took Rainguard in the last battle of the Rorchsityr Rebellion and slew the King, he took the Red Titan, cut it down bit by bit and burnt it, forever eliminating the symbol of House Ranchester. He also cut down all the Titans in sight of Rainguard. He likely would have cut down every single one in the Rainwood if he could.

"How could he disgrace this land so much and yet claim to be Duke?" Freedmor asked. How anyone could think to destroy such beauty was beyond him. 

"He's a usurper, not a ruler. Someday I will have my family's legacy back. The Westland will belong to the Westland again. And we will never have to suffer the Ryden pretenders."

"Maybe," Freedmir said doubtfully. It would take a miracle. 

The sight of the red titans astounded even the most hardened warriors in Tauron's company. Even Lord Nicholi had never seen such a sight before. His father, Benjaric Gramman returned to him fro the Rochistyr Rebellion telling him stories of the trees that reached the heavens. Everyone in the company had at least one relative or knew someone who fought to suppress the Westland, and these wonders were one thing that kept coming up in the stories of the adventure. So high that no man in the world could climb to the top.

Tauron himself felt so small. They would tower over the walls of Raenna, and even the Palace of Rannos. Few Heflites would want to take one unnecessary step towards the west, and so he was the first in his family to lay eyes on the symbol of the Westland. He understood why the Kings of the Westland made it their house sigil. Any army that approached and saw them would feel insignificant and weak. For centuries before they bent the knee to King Aiden Heflite, the Westland was invaded, conquered and liberated half hundred times, and these giants were the symbols of their independence. How could men conquer a land that grew creatures so great and strong? They could not, not even Rannos Litikus himself was able to bring the Westland under control before he died. Every time they revolted, they did so following the Tree of the Rorchistyrs. Now, the Rochistyrs were gone, and so was the Great Red Titan. Had the Westland finally been subdued? Was the iron rule of Horith Ryden all that it took to bring it down? Or was it the only thing holding them back?

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