The Old Tongue used by the Children of the Forest was a very unusual language. Speaking it required a great deal of force from the chest and abdomen, and it consisted almost entirely of open vowels. It sounded rhythmic and forceful, as crisp as clashing weapons.
Leaf spoke with her kin while displaying the bread in her arms, then pointed at the two humans behind her.
A moment later, she divided the cream-filled bread among everyone and began organizing the sacrificial ritual, offering sacrifices to the Old Gods represented by the enormous Weirwood.
Several dozen Children of the Forest gathered around the great tree and began to sing, singing of the forest and the earth. Their ancient, unrestrained language complemented the distant melody perfectly, and the song was both magnificent and beautiful.
Hermione watched the little figures join hands in a large circle, their eyes closed as they swayed from side to side and sang. She quietly said to the professor:
"If Dumbledore could come here, he would definitely be moved to tears. I have a very subtle illusion right now, as though someone is telling my heart a story of suffering."
She rubbed her face, raised her head toward the sky obscured by red leaves, and blinked rapidly to restrain the surging emotions in her heart.
"It isn't an illusion. The trees really are telling you about this land's suffering." Su Ming took out a cigarette and put it between his lips, watching the musical performance. "This is how the Children of the Forest preach. They temporarily connect people's spirits with the trees, allowing them to touch a tiny fragment of the extraordinary. Of course ignorant medieval commoners would immediately kneel, thinking that a god was speaking to them."
With a skull made of Tenth Metal, Deathstroke could only