Chapter 33 — The Tree Everyone Could See
The jungle settled around them with the uneasy patience of something waiting to see whether its guests were foolish enough to relax. Thick moss covered the roots beneath the enormous hollow tree, and the air smelled of wet bark, sap and the faint metallic tang that seemed to follow corruption wherever it spread. Hours had passed without another attack. Caelan had used the time to stabilise Luminel and Stormmane as well as he could, while his own body slowly repaired the less serious damage left by their passage through the black hole. Stormmane had appointed himself guard despite having only one arm, which would have been admirable if he had not nearly fallen asleep three times while sitting upright. Caelan had politely refrained from mentioning this. Stormmane had equally politely pretended Caelan had not noticed.
Luminel finally stirred sometime beneath the greenish afternoon light. The little fairy made a sound halfway between a groan and an insult, rolled onto one side and pushed himself upright. His wings were no longer the proud translucent structures they had been before. What remained had begun healing under his natural regeneration and Caelan's support, but they were badly damaged, reduced to torn, scorched remnants that trembled whenever he tried to move them.
Caelan reached toward him.
Luminel immediately raised one hand.
"I'm alive."
"That wasn't my question."
"It was going to become your question."
"You cannot fly."
Luminel's eyes narrowed. "I can fly."
"You can fall in a controlled direction."
Stormmane snorted.
Luminel pointed at him. "You stay out of this. You currently possess half the recommended number of arms."
Stormmane looked offended. "That's temporary."
"Excellent. Then when it grows back, you may criticise my wings."
Caelan's mouth twitched.
It was the first vaguely normal conversation they had managed since arriving.
Luminel nevertheless insisted on testing his wings. He floated perhaps a metre off the ground, trembled violently, descended rather faster than dignity required and landed on Caelan's shoulder.
Nobody commented.
Luminel stared ahead.
"Not a word."
"I didn't say anything."
"Your face did."
Caelan looked innocent.
Stormmane covered his mouth with his remaining hand.
Luminel sighed and turned his attention toward the canopy. "Help me up."
Caelan lifted him carefully onto one palm and used a gentle column of wind to raise him above the surrounding trees rather than allow him to tear his recovering wings apart proving a point. Luminel complained about this for perhaps six seconds before the jungle opened beneath him and he fell silent.
The forest stretched farther than sight should reasonably have allowed. Great trees towered over seas of tangled vines, their crowns rising like green islands from mist. Some sections were brilliantly alive; others were darkened by corruption, leaves grey or violet, roots twisted into unnatural shapes. Far in the distance, however, stood something that ignored distance entirely.
A tree.
Calling it large seemed inadequate in the same way calling the sky spacious would have been technically correct but rather unimpressive.
Its trunk rose beyond the horizon, impossibly distant and yet perfectly visible. Branches vanished into luminous cloud. Great roots seemed to cross mountains. Light bent strangely around its crown, and whenever Caelan tried to judge how far away it was, perspective gave up and went home. He could look directly at it, turn ninety degrees, walk twenty paces through the jungle and somehow still feel that it stood ahead of him.
Stormmane came out from beneath the roots.
"What is that?"
Luminel's expression became serious.
"The World Tree."
Caelan looked at him.
"I thought the Grand Archive was the intelligence governing this world."
"It is."
"And that's a tree."
"Also true."
"Helpful."
Luminel descended on Caelan's wind and settled back onto his shoulder. "The World Tree is one of the Grand Archive's great anchors. A visible manifestation of its presence in the world. You can see it from almost anywhere because normal distance does not apply to it properly."
Caelan looked again.
Now that Luminel had named it, he could feel what the fairy meant. The tree wasn't merely visible. It pressed faintly against perception, an immense spiritual landmark that insisted upon being noticed no matter what stood between observer and horizon.
He had sensed it since arriving in the jungle.
Stormmane tilted his head. "So if everyone can see it..."
"They may head toward it," Caelan said.
Luminel nodded. "Exactly."
The children had been scattered when the black hole swallowed them. Their Virtue Sigils and Resonance Linkers had protected them somehow, but there was no guarantee they had been deposited anywhere near one another. They would need something every member of the group could independently identify.
The World Tree provided exactly that.
Luminel surveyed the jungle again before looking down toward the corrupted growth beneath them. "I recognise this region too. We are inside what used to be called the Jungle of the Plant Lords."
Stormmane looked around.
"Used to be?"
"The Plant Lords are gone."
"Dead?"
Luminel's expression answered before he did.
"Most of them. The old domains did not survive everything that followed the previous ages. This region was once a sanctuary. Now there are feral Aetherkin, abandoned guardians and things that have been living among corrupted roots for far too long."
Stormmane nodded solemnly.
"So it's dangerous."
"Very."
"Good."
Caelan looked at him.
Stormmane coughed.
"I mean unfortunate."
"Of course."
Luminel's gaze moved to Caelan. "The World Tree also gives you another reason to go."
Caelan knew exactly what he meant.
"The Archive."
"You still intend to seek it."
"Yes."
Stormmane glanced between them.
Caelan did not elaborate immediately. He no longer needed the Grand Archive to tell him whether he was an Aetherkin. Evolution had answered that rather decisively. What he wanted now was far more specific and, he suspected, considerably less pleasant.
Why had this world created him?
Why had it reproduced Caelan Ardyn with such absurd accuracy when other Aetherkin were interpretations of legends rather than perfect human copies?
Why had he awakened with memories only to thirteen, only for new memories to unlock as he evolved?
Why had he been pulled here at all?
And what, exactly, did the Grand Archive expect him to become?
There were also questions Caelan was not eager to ask aloud yet. Lyra. Guang Lian. The friends and rivals whose memories now occupied places inside his mind despite never having met him. Somewhere, those people might know the original Caelan Ardyn. The man whose legend had eventually produced the person standing here.
Caelan wanted answers.
He did not expect them to be kind.
Luminel seemed to read enough of that from his expression.
"The Archive does not comfort people."
"Good."
Luminel raised an eyebrow.
"I don't need comforting."
"Everyone says that immediately before discovering they do."
Caelan ignored this. "I need information."
"That it may provide."
"May?"
"The Grand Archive calculates. Observes. Maintains. Sometimes intervenes. It does not explain itself merely because someone asks politely."
Caelan looked toward the impossible tree.
"Then I'll ask impolitely."
Stormmane grinned.
Luminel groaned. "Wonderful. We're taking the sarcastic fate cultivator to question the intelligence responsible for maintaining the world."
"You make it sound dangerous."
"It becomes increasingly dangerous the longer you speak."
Caelan carefully adjusted the small pack they had salvaged and helped Stormmane back to his feet.
The lion warrior glanced toward the World Tree.
"Then that's where we're going?"
Caelan nodded.
"That's where the others are most likely to go."
"And the Archive?"
"If we're lucky."
Luminel gave him a dark look.
"You and I have very different definitions of luck."
They left the shelter of the ancient roots and entered the jungle, following the one landmark that refused to let itself be lost.
Far away, a lake erupted.
Yuto Akiyama came up coughing, splashing and thoroughly convinced for several frantic seconds that surviving a black hole only to drown in a pond would be an exceptionally embarrassing conclusion to his adventure.
His shoes found mud.
He scrambled upright.
"Michael!"
Something orange and cream burst from the water beside him with a spluttering noise.
"I'm here!"
Yuto grabbed the little Aetherkin immediately and hugged him against his chest.
Michael's wings hung soaked against his sides, and his fur had flattened so badly that he looked considerably smaller than usual, but he was alive.
That was enough.
For nearly a minute Yuto simply stood knee-deep in the dark water holding him.
Then he noticed where they were.
The lake occupied the centre of what had once been some sort of amusement park. Broken pathways curved between rusted rides. A carousel stood beyond the trees, its faded animals frozen beneath a sagging canopy. An enormous wheel leaned drunkenly against the grey sky, several of its passenger compartments missing entirely. Vines climbed every pole and railing they could reach. One cracked swing moved slowly despite there being almost no wind.
Yuto stared at it.
The swing creaked.
Yuto took one step backward.
Michael followed his gaze.
"I don't like that."
"Me neither."
The swing creaked again.
Yuto hurried out of the lake.
His clothes were soaked and his blond hair hung across his forehead, but he barely noticed. He pulled out his Resonance Linker instead.
The display glowed.
That was reassuring.
He tried contacting Renji.
Nothing.
Haruto.
Nothing.
Misaki.
Nothing.
One by one he searched for the others.
No signal.
His throat tightened.
"Renji..."
The name escaped before he could stop it.
His brother was somewhere in this enormous world.
Maybe hurt.
Maybe alone.
Yuto's eyes burned.
Michael floated in front of him. His little wings had recovered enough to carry him again, and pale light began gathering around his body.
"Yuto."
The boy looked up.
Michael's light expanded gently until it surrounded them both. The ruined park did not become less frightening. The shadows did not disappear. The silent rides remained exactly as unsettling as they had been a moment earlier.
But Yuto could see Michael clearly.
That mattered.
"We're together," Michael said.
Yuto wiped his face.
"I know."
"I'm scared too."
Yuto blinked.
Michael smiled.
"So we'll be scared together."
That made Yuto laugh despite himself.
A very small laugh.
But enough.
His Virtue Sigil of Hope gave a faint warm pulse beside the Resonance Linker.
Yuto took a breath and straightened his shoulders in an imitation of Renji that would have made his brother unbearably proud had he been there to see it.
"We find the others."
Michael nodded.
"Right."
They walked out of the abandoned park side by side.
Yuto did not know how long they had travelled before he finally noticed the tree.
At first he thought it was part of the horizon.
Then he realised horizons generally did not possess branches.
The World Tree rose beyond hills, ruins and distant forests, shining faintly beneath the strange sky. It was impossibly large, but what made Yuto stop was not its size.
It was familiarity.
He remembered Luminel mentioning it during one of his lessons. A great anchor connected to the Grand Archive, visible across enormous distances because the world did not treat it like an ordinary physical object.
Yuto pointed.
"Michael."
"I see it."
"If everyone can see that..."
Michael's eyes brightened.
"They might go there too."
Yuto's fear did not vanish.
But it gained direction.
That was almost as useful.
"Then we go to the tree."
Michael floated higher.
"Adventure!"
Yuto looked around the abandoned wasteland.
"Maybe quieter adventure."
"Quiet adventures are just walks."
Yuto smiled.
They continued.
After perhaps twenty minutes Yuto looked at Michael's wings.
"Could you carry me?"
Michael looked at him.
Then at himself.
Then at Yuto.
"No."
"I know."
"I could try."
"Please don't."
Yuto sighed.
His Resonance Linker could force Michael temporarily into his Adult stage. That form could fly easily while carrying him. But temporary evolution required energy from both partner and human, and neither of them had eaten properly since before the battle. Forcing an evolution merely to save time might leave Michael exhausted at exactly the wrong moment.
The thought still returned every time Yuto's feet began hurting.
"If you were evolved, we could fly there."
Michael nodded importantly. "Very majestically."
"Very quickly."
"Also majestically."
Yuto laughed.
Michael fluttered ahead.
"I like walking anyway."
"You complained about walking yesterday."
"I've matured."
"In one day?"
"Greatly."
Yuto shook his head and followed.
The World Tree remained ahead of them, no closer and no farther, an impossible beacon hanging over a world that suddenly seemed much larger now that there were only two of them.
Several hours later, the wilderness gave way to a city.
Yuto almost felt relieved.
Then he saw the city properly.
Buildings rose on either side of cracked streets in shapes that reminded him of home only from a distance. Some resembled human towers until he noticed doorways four times his height or windows shaped like narrow vertical slits. Others were built with circular entrances or broad ledges rather than stairs, clearly intended for creatures whose bodies had never resembled humans at all. Signs flickered weakly above abandoned shops in symbols Yuto could not read.
Nothing moved.
That bothered him.
His stomach growled loudly enough for Michael to hear.
Michael's stomach answered.
Yuto looked at him.
Michael looked at Yuto.
"Don't say it."
"I wasn't."
"You were going to."
"I was going to say I could eat."
"That's the same thing."
They had almost no food.
The black hole had not been considerate enough to scatter their supplies alongside them.
Yuto checked several abandoned structures as they passed, but whatever had lived here had either taken its provisions when it left or possessed dietary requirements sufficiently strange that he could not recognise the food.
Then Michael suddenly stopped flying.
"Yuto."
Something in his voice made the boy freeze.
Michael was staring upward.
Yuto followed his gaze.
A giant spider clung to the side of a nearby tower.
It was easily larger than a horse, with long segmented legs ending in hooked points and several red eyes burning beneath a heavy armoured body.
Then another moved behind it.
And another.
Yuto counted seven before deciding he did not want to continue.
Michael dropped lower.
"Adult stage."
Yuto swallowed.
Michael was only Juvenile.
Normally, his Resonance Linker could force him one stage higher temporarily.
One Adult Michael against seven natural Adults.
While both of them were hungry and tired.
Even Yuto knew enough arithmetic to dislike that equation.
His thumb hovered over the Linker.
Michael looked at it.
"I could evolve."
Yuto watched the spiders.
One crawled across the wall above them.
"No."
Michael turned.
"Yuto—"
"The light would tell all of them exactly where we are."
Michael's mouth closed.
"And if you use too much energy..."
"I'd revert."
"And you'd barely be able to move."
Michael looked at the spiders again.
Yuto backed slowly toward the broken entrance of the nearest building.
"We hide."
They slipped inside.
Glass crunched beneath Yuto's shoes.
He winced.
Neither spider reacted.
They moved deeper into the ruined structure and crouched behind a collapsed interior wall where the street remained barely visible through a crack.
Michael settled into Yuto's lap.
"What now?"
"We wait until they leave."
Michael's ears drooped.
"What if they don't?"
Yuto tried very hard to sound like someone who had considered that.
"Then we keep waiting."
Michael stared up at him.
Yuto stared back.
After several seconds Michael nodded.
"Good plan."
Yuto exhaled.
Michael curled closer.
Then his stomach growled again.
The little Aetherkin sighed.
"I could definitely defeat one after a banana."
Yuto covered his mouth to keep from laughing loudly enough to alert the spiders.
"Why a banana?"
"I feel like it would help."
"It won't make you stronger."
"You don't know that."
For the first time since the lake, Yuto laughed properly.
It did not solve the hunger.
It did not remove the seven Adult predators outside.
But it made the ruined building slightly less frightening.
For the moment, that was enough.
Night fell strangely in the abandoned city.
There was no proper sunset. The light simply weakened until the broken windows became black mirrors and the streets disappeared beneath violet shadows. Yuto and Michael remained inside the ruined building long after the last scrape of spider legs faded into the distance.
Eventually exhaustion defeated caution.
Yuto curled against the wall with Michael resting over his chest.
They slept.
Then—
Click.
Yuto's eyes opened.
Click. Click.
Footsteps.
Not claws.
Not spider legs.
He sat upright too quickly.
Michael rolled off him.
"Wha—?"
Yuto grabbed him.
"Quiet."
The footsteps continued through the ruined atrium.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Someone was walking across broken marble as though entering a ballroom rather than a collapsed building infested with giant spiders.
A figure appeared beneath what remained of an old chandelier.
A woman.
At least, that was Yuto's first impression.
She was tall and elegant, dressed in a sleeveless crimson gown beneath a short red cape. Long violet gloves climbed past her elbows, patterned with dark web-like markings, while tall purple boots clicked lightly against the damaged floor. White hair spilled down her back beneath an enormous striped hat in shades of red and violet. Spiderweb designs spread across its broad brim, and a golden spider ornament sat at the centre around a pink jewel.
Large dark glasses concealed much of her eyes.
She was beautiful.
That did not make Yuto feel safer.
Perhaps it was the way she moved.
Too smoothly.
Or the faint web-like markings visible near her temples when she stepped into the weak light.
Or the fact that something about her shadow seemed to have too many narrow limbs.
Michael pressed against Yuto's side.
The woman stopped a few metres away.
Then she smiled.
"What is a little boy doing here?"
Her voice was soft and pleasant.
Almost motherly.
Almost.
Yuto said nothing.
She tilted her head.
The golden spider on her hat caught the light.
"Where is your family?"
Yuto's chest tightened.
Renji's face immediately came to mind.
His father.
His mother.
His grandmother.
The others.
Michael nudged him gently.
Yuto swallowed.
"I don't have anyone with me."
The woman's smile remained.
"We're looking for our friends."
For the first time, something behind those dark glasses seemed to sharpen.
Michael's wings lifted slightly.
Yuto's hand closed around his Resonance Linker.
The ruined building became very quiet.
And the woman took one more step toward them.