Nature is built off the idea of growth. Everything that grows is worth preserving because even the small saplings in the dirt can grow to be mighty trees. The wielding style is often slower than the other elements, as the wielders must know the value of patience when using this element. Nature magic also involves a certain understanding of your essence and spirit. It should be viewed as working with, rather than using as a tool.
Wield the essence of life and don’t let it be contained.
Most mages have their books and libraries. Great stone keeps and towers that they call their home. A place they belong. Those who wield fire, water, light, or shadows can study it elsewhere. But for us, those who hold the essence of life in our palms, who knows what it feels like to grow. We cannot belong anywhere, where there are stagnation and no growth. You can learn all there is to know about nature magic through books and tombs. But you can never truly wield it until you step outside and let yourself find what it means to that which grows.
This is your garden and you will tend to it until your legs give out.
The world grew on, yet the garden still remained, untouched and unbroken in its resolve. It was passed and forgotten, but it stood on. Kings rose and fell, armies trampled the earth and drenched it with their blood. Yet the gardens remained. I am the last of those who have defended the gardens since the world’s birth. Let me teach you what I know.
Learn the forest’s secrets then keep the forest’s secrets.
The vine twisted and curled with every movement of her fingers. The thorns slide menacingly across exposed skin on the man’s neck, not yet drawing blood. He attempted to break free of his constrictions but to no avail. “Where are they?” She asked as the thorns curled inwards. He refused to tell her. She asked once more. She was met with the same amount of silence. The vine grew tighter, the thorns pierced the skin. “Where are they?” She demanded. He began to grunt in pain. So be it. She closed her fist and the thorns ripped into the man's flesh like a knife.
The forest looked after us for thousands of years, time to repay the favour.
Those who had come into the forest with malintent had never made it out. Their bodies were always returned to the other as payment for their sins. Sitting among the roots of the great oaks he waited, wait for whatever came. And then he wandered the woods, watching, watching for whatever came. And when someone did come who wished harm on their surroundings, then the roots began to move, they began to grip and they began to pull. He was the guardian of this place, and he made sure everyone knew that.
You can wander the world all you want, but you will only have one home.
The freak held him against a wall with four arms, his feet dangled in the air. Another three-fingered hand gripped his jaw as his mandibles chattered. The last hand traced his soft stomach with a crude-looking knife. He remained calm, it seemed to piss his captor off a little more. He eyed his sword on the ground just a few paces from the behemoth’s feet. He said something in a language he couldn’t even begin to understand. Eight eyes looked back at him with a rage that was rather unjustified. He pulled one hand off the behemoth's arm that gripped his neck and put it against the rock wall behind him. A few seconds later he felt the familiar touch of vines growing between the rocks. The creature noticed far too late. Only when the wall was nearly covered in green did he notice the vines creeping up his arms and legs. A reversal of fortunes.
Find your peace, then keep it.
The sound of his whetstone against his metal blade sounded rhythmically against the whistling and chirping of the birds in the calm forest. It would have been a nice relaxing day, sitting among the trees, in the shade. Small gusts of wind coming by every now and to bring him some fresh air coming down from the mountains. Were it not for the army that sat in front of him, with a desire for his severed head. Glorious, honourable warriors they called themselves. They were thugs, murderers, and brigands, all of them. He was glad he had pissed them off. He dropped the whetstone to the forest floor and stood up, sword in hand. Better not keep death waiting.
The forest is filled with many powerful forces; make sure one of them is you.
The woods were not always peaceful, light and green. Neither were they just foreboding and mysterious. At least, not the one he was in now. It was no mystery what lay in the dark forest here. He trod carefully, his eyes scanning every tree and every branch. Especially those that sat high above him. He found what he was searching for soon enough. Bundles, roughly human-shaped, wrapped in fine white silk. They dangled from the branches overhead. He was in the middle of it, and infestation. The sound of multiple legs clicking against the wood echoed throughout the forest. Strands of silk strung across the canopy shook, and the foul scent that permeated the air became strong. It was time to rid the forest of this infestation. He nocked an arrow in his bow, whispering an incantation that made it glow green. Then he spun around and fired it at the massive creature that was sneaking up behind him.
Even the trees need guidance sometimes.
She was disgusted by whoever had done this. The trees around him were dead or dying, the only trace left behind was this rot, this horrid decay. It was some illegal mage no doubt. And they would pay. She wiped the stained dirt from her fingers and turned around. “Looking for me?” She didn’t need to look upon his face to know it was the one who had caused this corruption. “As a matter of fact.” She felt the spirit of the forest flow through her, bending the woods to her request. “I was.”
Run free, live free, die free.
There was one place he could have went anyways. A roof over his head, however comforting was, was restricting. The wilderness was where he felt like himself. That was where he felt his attunement to nature the strongest. He had always been told he had an affinity to nature, and he didn’t believe it until out in the wild. From that day he stepped out his door, he had begun to live up to his full potential. And now, there was nothing, no one in the world that could stop them.