Chapter 26: The Invocation
The bed embraced his aching back like a sigh, its worn straw mattress and thin blanket feeling like the pinnacle of luxury after the day's labor. The clean, refreshing sensation from his bath still tingled on his skin, a thin barrier between him and the deep-seated soreness in his muscles. There was no denying it- nothing in the world compared to the feeling of a warm bath after a day of hauling grain and navigating emotional minefields. He let out a soft moan of pure relief, the tiredness seeping from his very bones, a powerful siren's call to simply surrender to sleep.
But he couldn't. The vivid, heart-wrenching flashback of the profound sadness in Old Matt's eyes kept him tethered to wakefulness. He couldn't imagine the depth of that pain. Not because he was unwilling, but because he was utterly incapable. He had never had anyone or anything special to lose. His own blank memories, a void where a past should be, ensured that. All he had ever truly felt was a spectrum of dread, terror, and fear. Nothing as complex and deeply human as grief.
The stark reality of his own emptiness- no past, no loved ones- pressed down on his heart with a heavy, lonely weight. Was this hollow, aching feeling a form of grief for a life he never had?
"Nope. That's depression. And it's creeping in rather fast," his inner self fired back, blunt and clinically unhelpful.
Ugh. He groaned. Why did his subconscious have to ruin a perfectly good moment of self-reflection? That inner voice was becoming as annoyingly direct as Tiffany. No- scratch that name. Don't get lost in thoughts of her auburn hair dancing in the wind, her indifferent yet striking face lit by moonlight, as enchanting as an angel- not that he'd ever seen one, but he'd heard folks say they were beings of perfect beauty. Her enthralling...
He facepalmed in self-realization. What the hell? I just told myself not to do that! She was already occupying valuable real estate in his head, space that should be dedicated to pondering the pressing mysteries of his existence. Thoughts like how he was going to extract power from that terrifying Colossal Soul Tree. By the way, why did he call it the Soul Tree? Maybe because it devoured the souls of those dangling, soulless humans in his visions. Or because it messed with his own soul or consciousness. Who knew? He definitely hadn't put that much thought into the name when it first came to him; it just flowed out and stuck.
But those were trivial matters. The main issue was how to convince the towering fiend to grant him some sort of power, ability or whatever could turn his present helplessness into strength.. He didn't really believe the Soul Tree was kind enough to offer such a thing, at least not without a cost- a horrifying one, no doubt.
But first, he had to figure out how to get back to the white void where the tree was rooted. It had always been the one pulling him in, always against his will. But now, there was no pull. No familiar tug at his consciousness. No chilling whispers of the word "Eden." If someone had told him just days ago that he would ever wish to feel the pull of the Colossal Tree and its soulless whispers, he would have yelled in disbelief. Guess times had changed. Now, he was genuinely missing the Soul Tree. The thought deflated him. He just needed it one more time. One last trip.
But... he mustered his courage. There was no use crying over spilled milk. He had to find an alternative. There had to be another way.
"Think. There has to be a way," he repeated the words like a mantra. Then, a thought whispered through him.
What if he pictured it? Like he did when he triggered his heightened perception. He just had to form a vivid mental picture of the Colossal Soul Tree, the glowing Halo, those dangling, soulless human husks. There was no guarantee it would work, but what harm was there in trying? He focused, pouring all his mental energy into forming the most vivid picture he could. He recalled the awe and dread he'd felt from the tree's towering, imposing figure. The initial chill that had seized his bones when he saw the soulless humans suspended from its huge tendrils. The hope and awe he'd felt from the glowing Halo. Beads of sweat were starting to form on his forehead, a stark contrast to the cool, breezy night. His eyes were squeezed shut in intense meditation.
Yet, he didn't feel it. The whispers weren't coming. There was no pull on his consciousness, no sensation of the usual prelude to transference. Was he doing it wrong? He couldn't help but feel a wave of frustration, mixed with a strange sense of nostalgia for the very terror he was trying to summon.
"Why not take a break? A little rest doesn't hurt. You've got plenty of nights to try," his inner voice sneaked in, its tone sly and tempting.
This bastard inner self of his was a real snitch. A little rest. How appealing. Wasn't this the same voice that had been urging him just hours ago to seek power for ultimate freedom and peace? Where had that fiery patriotism gone?
But the poison had been dropped, and its effects were seeping in. The tempting appeal of just a little rest... why did he have to think of it as an option? Now his body was crumbling in agreement, the exhaustion returning with a vengeance. He yawned, a massive, jaw-cracking affair. His eyelids grew heavy, wobbling and fluttering as the line between wakefulness and sleep blurred. The world began to soften at the edges, the sounds of the night fading into a distant hum. He was almost asleep, or perhaps already half-dreaming, when he heard it.
The soul-wrenching whispers. The ones he had been waiting for.
"Eden..."
It was a chorus of voices, from the cracked rasp of the ancient to the clear tones of youth, all condensed into a single, high-pitched note that scraped against his mind. Yet, contrary to the mental havoc it wreaked, he felt an overwhelming wave of relief and monumental joy. He had succeeded! He never knew he was such a genius. He really was. He nodded in self-acknowledgment, a giddy feeling rising in his chest. He could have leapt for joy at that moment, if not for the fragile, threatening creak of the bed frame. The last thing he wanted was to destroy something he'd have to work his ass off to pay for, or worse, attract Old Matt's concerned interruption. So, he laid back perfectly still, forcing calm upon his excited limbs.
The world around him began to change. It warped, the walls of his room seeming to expand and contract like a living lung. A wave of intense nausea hit him; the visual distortions were making him feel lightheaded and disoriented. He decided to just shut his eyes tight, realizing he hadn't grown accustomed to the journey yet.
The multiple whisperings of "Eden" intensified, becoming a cacophony that felt like it was physically tearing at the fabric of his sanity. Was it always this loud last time? And why in the hell was it taking an eternity to subside? He would gladly accept the mental torture ending anytime now. In that moment, he even regretted not just going to sleep.
After what felt like an eternity, the voices died away as suddenly as they had come. Then, he felt his consciousness slip, a sensation of being unmoored and set afloat amidst clouds. Relief surged through him. Without even opening his eyes, he knew. He had Transversed.
He opened his eyes to the familiar, stark white landscape that spread in every direction, a flawless, silent void. He gazed at the endless expanse. There were no glowing Halos this time, just plain, featureless blankness. He felt a sharp pang of disappointment. Did the Halo disappear? Maybe during that last ordeal, when he was suspended by the tendrils, he had seen it plunge into him. So did that mean it was within him now? But wasn't the Tree also supposedly within him? So why was the Halo not here in this internal landscape? Ugh, he groaned. Another mystery. Well, the Colossal Soul Tree was still here; that was what mattered for now.
He glanced up at the colossal fiend. It was still as terrifying as ever. He sized it up; it was impossibly huge, its roots like small hills, its scaly, black trunk as vast as a cathedral, stretching up and up, far beyond the horizons of his mortal sight. For a moment, he was tempted to use his heightened senses to try and find its limit, but he snuffed out the thought. He had to save his energy for whatever the Tree had in store for him.
He let his eyes wander to the soulless husks. Poor folks. Victims of a divine savagery, now empty vessels for this imposing terror. Their limp forms were suspended by the tendrils, their eyes vacant, skin pale and waxy. He felt a confusing mix of pity and primal dread.
He really had missed his colossal friend, he thought with heavy sarcasm.
Enough of this touching reunion. Time for business. He shrugged off the lingering unease and walked towards the massive trunk, just as he had before. He deduced this physical contact was the only way to communicate with it. The moment his palms connected with the oily, scaly bark, the eyes and mouths of every single soulless human husk burst open, releasing rays of shimmering golden light. It was like a grand, silent orchestra of illumination, multiplying across the void. He felt an encroaching feeling of dread and awe watching the spectacle. Whatever this god-damned tree is plotting, it's certainly a climatic reunion. I'm touched, he thought, the sarcasm a thin shield for his rising panic as his mind ached from the sensory overload.
He felt the very void around him quake. Panic rose in his chest, a cold, sharp fear. I really should have just slept. That snitchy inner voice was right. Just as the thought fully formed, the blinding light ceased as abruptly as it had begun. The violent quaking stopped. His mind eased. Maybe it wasn't as bad as he thought. He had been overthinking it. He heaved a sigh of relief.
Then, the soulless human husks spoke in unison, their voices not a whisper this time, but a clear, resonant bellows that filled the infinite space.
"Welcome... Hallowed Descendant of Ruin."
Before his brain could even fully process the words, he felt his consciousness slip once more, pulled not into wakefulness, but deeper, into the very trunk of the Soul Tree itself...