Chapter 88 - A Glimpse at a Bigger Picture (Patreon)

Zeke’s heart beat out of his chest as panic gripped him. He had never seen so many complex runes before; it was as if the entire valley was blanketed in the complicated assortment of glyphs, patterns, and symbols. And through his artisan path, Zeke could feel that they went far deeper than his senses could comprehend.

The light faded, leaving only a faint luminescence behind. It reflected off the mist, exacerbating the party’s limited vision. Zeke gripped Abby’s arm, saying, “We need to get out of here. Now.”

For her part, Abby didn’t argue. Instead, she wordlessly followed Zeke as he turned on his heel and jogged from the valley. However, after they had been running for close to five minutes, it became clear that something was amiss. Abby slowed down, saying, “We should have been up the mountain by now. Something’s wrong.”

Zeke let out a panicked snort. Abby didn’t know the half of it. Zeke could feel the runes shifting with each of his steps, almost as if they were alive. This wasn’t something they could fight. Even with his nascent talent in runecraft, Zeke could scarcely comprehend the depth of the danger surrounding them. Just when he was about to respond, the mist parted, revealing a well-worn path of cobbled stones.

“This place is starting to freak me out,” Abby muttered.

“We really shouldn’t have come here,” Zeke breathed.

“What do we do?” Abby asked.

“I…I don’t know,” Zeke said. It was one thing to face down an army of monsters; he could do that and not flinch. But this? How was he supposed to fight something he could neither hit nor understand? The worst of it was that, if he focused on any singular rune, he felt that comprehension was only a single step away, if only he knew which direction to go.

It was all an illusion, though. He knew that. The runes surrounding him and his party were well beyond anything he could rightfully understand. He didn’t even understand the runes associated with his skills – not really – and they were like a child’s crayon drawing compared to the Renaissance masterpieces contained within the valley. Never had he felt so small, that he had so far yet to go.

“I think – Pudge! Stop!” he cried, but the bear wasn’t listening to him. Instead, Pudge had already taken off down the path. The only thing Zeke could feel through their bond was a sense of rightness; the bear was certain he was going the right way. “Shit.”

“Follow?” asked Abby.

Zeke threw his hands up, saying, “As if we have a choice, now.”

But as he stalked down the path, Zeke realized that they’d never had any choice. The moment they’d stepped into the fog, their fate was sealed. The valley had them, and it wasn’t going to let them go until it got what it wanted. The only question remaining was if it was something Zeke, Abby, and Pudge were willing to give.

They covered ground quickly, but the vale seemed neverending. Hours passed, with Pudge staying just far enough ahead that they could make out his bulky shape. Meanwhile, Zeke’s panic subsided, replaced by annoyance and frustration, with an undercurrent of palpable fear. He’d looked down upon the valley from on high, and it hadn’t been big enough to accommodate the distance they’d already covered.

“There are no animals,” said Abby, walking beside him. Both her bow and a conjured arrow had already been summoned, and she seemed only a moment away from firing at something, anything.

“What?” Zeke asked, startled by the sudden sound. Until that point, the valley had been entirely silent.

“I just thought it was the fog, at first,” she said. “It muffles sound, especially when it’s this thick. But I haven’t heard a single animal since we were enveloped by the mist. No bird calls. No insects buzzing around. No rustling of the leaves. Just…there’s just nothing. It’s like the only thing alive down here are the plants.”

“And us.”

She sighed. “And us,” she agreed. “I really don’t like this, Zeke. There’s…there’s something in the air. Like we’re a second away from being struck by lightning or something. It’s…”

“Power,” he supplied. “If you could see what I see, you would understand. There are thousands of runes all around us, and they’re all holding more mana than I’ve ever seen before. It’s…it’s humbling…and terrifying. Whatever created these runes is so powerful that it shouldn’t even exist.”

Zeke wasn’t certain how he knew it, but he could feel the way the power warped the very essence of reality. It was all the world could do to hold itself together, much less maintain even a semblance of the rules that usually constrained reality. And they were caught in the middle of it, unable to retreat, and entirely at the mercy of some unknown power.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” Abby said.

“Yeah. Me too,” Zeke agreed. But they had little choice but to continue forward, to confront whatever lay before them. So, they trudged forward, lost within the mist and with the cobbled path their only guide.

Hours passed, the combination of the mist and the seemingly ceaseless path giving the valley a timeless feel. If it weren’t for the fact that Zeke could feel the runes growing progressively more powerful, he might have wondered if they were making any progress at all. Even with that, the journey adopted a dreamlike sensation that engendered introspection. Neither Zeke nor Abby spoke much, both lost in their thoughts.

At first, Zeke tried to study the runes, but even looking at them directly drove spikes of agony through his eyes. And if he focused on them for more than a few seconds, it felt like his entire brain was on the verge of exploding. He could endure pain – it was the one skill he’d managed to lean on more than any other during his time in the new world – but this was a different sort of agony, more mental than physical. And he had no innate defense against that. So, he left off his study, instead thinking back to his past.

Over the course of his time in the troll caves, he had grown increasingly more introspective as his isolation grew more absolute. Since emerging from those hated caves and meeting Abby and, perhaps just as importantly, bonding with Pudge, he’d backed away from that mindset. But blanketed by that impenetrable mist, it returned in force.

He thought about his dysfunctional family. This time, he forcibly kept himself from thinking about his abusive father.  Instead, he focused on his little brother, Tommy, and how much he wished he could’ve seen the boy grow into a man. He’d missed an entire life, and for the first time since he’d awoken in the new world, he dwelt on all the things he’d never see.

Zeke had long since chosen to leave his past behind. He didn’t want to think about things like that, not least because he could never regain the things he’d lost. That world was long gone, if Oberon was to be believed. And Zeke did believe his guide. Trust might’ve been stretching it, but he believed that Oberon had been mostly truthful.

“I think the fog is thinning,” Abby said, breaking him away from his thoughts.

Zeke looked around, and instead of a white, misty wall, he could see the shadows of the trees that lined the sides of the path. “I think you’re right,” he agreed, but he didn’t speculate about what it might mean. Instead, he and Abby continued walking. About fifty yards ahead, Pudge waddled along, presumably leading them towards whatever was at the center of the misty phenomenon.

Slowly, the fog continued to thin until, an hour or two later, it had faded to the point where it barely obscured the surrounding forest. An hour after that, they came to a clearing which contained one of the strangest sights Zeke had ever seen.

In the center of the meadow was a single, enormous oak tree, its branches completely bare of leaves. The naked limbs stretched dozens of yards from the trunk, which meant that the tree’s canopy spread out across the entire meadow. In lieu of leaves, a multitude of ribbons hung from the branches, each in a different hue. They fluttered in the gentle breeze, a veritable rainbow of colors.

“It…it’s…beautiful,” Abby said. “And it’s sad, too. Why doesn’t it have leaves?”

Those were good questions, but Zeke wasn’t in any position to answer. In fact, he found it difficult to concentrate on anything besides the carpet of complex runes encircling the forlorn tree.

“Do not pity me, child,” came a voice that sounded more like a wind gust. “My ribbons mean more to me than my leaves ever did. Come closer. I would look upon your faces.”

Zeke couldn’t resist the pull of that voice, even if he wanted to. It was magnetic. Absolute. A force of nature. He strode forward, wishing for all the world that he could simply turn around and run away. This tree was beyond him, and by such a drastic measure that its power seemed wholly incomprehensible. For all the strength he’d gained since being reborn in the new world, it would do him no good if the tree chose to see him as an enemy.

Finally, they drew closer, and Zeke saw his bound companion curled up at the base of the tree, where he slept contentedly. That was a relief, if a small one. Pudge had good judgment.

“You are bigger than I expected,” the tree said, and Zeke tracked its ethereal voice to a particularly gnarled bit of its trunk. Only a second later, he recognized the pattern as a rudimentary face. Then, it moved, mouthing the words, “Fear not, Chosen. I have not brought you here to harm you.”

Zeke summoned every ounce of his courage. “Why did you bring us, then?” he asked.

“I wish to help a friend,” it said, its voice now unmistakably feminine. “Debts must be paid.”

“Who?” he asked.

“Oberon,” was her answer. “He saved me, once. Long, long ago. I wish to repay that favor by assisting his Chosen. Tell me, child – what do you know of your new world?”

Zeke answered, the words spilling out of his mouth before he’d consciously decided to reply. He told the tree everything Oberon had told him, as well as all the things he’d grown to suspect. He ended with, “And I think something is stopping people from moving on. I don’t know why or what, but it’s just…a feeling…”

“Your suspicions are correct, but it is worse than you know,” the tree stated. “The portal to the next plane has been hidden, the path obscured – all so Shar Maelaine can harvest these people’s power, taking advantage of veritable infants. She skirts the rules and flouts tradition. It is grotesque.”

“And you want us to do something about it?” Zeke asked.

The tree flicked her eyes at him, a wholly unsettling sight. “No, child,” she said. “Such a battle is beyond you. Further, that is not my task. As I said, I am here to return the favor of a friend, not solve this world’s problems.”

“Oh,” he said, barely avoiding a stammer. “Then…I mean…what…how…”

When Zeke didn’t seem capable of articulating the proper question, Abby stepped in, asking, “How are you going to return this Oberon’s favor?”

“Ah, I was wondering when you would find the courage to speak,” the tree said, focusing on Abby. “You are not one of the Chosen, but you have a spark, nonetheless. There is greatness within you. You only need to reach out and grasp it.”

“That’s not cryptic at all,” Abby muttered.

“Yes, I apologize,” the tree breathed. “I am unused to speaking to…lifeforms such as yourself. But needs must…”

The branches rustled, and the wind picked up. “The path is closing,” the tree stated. “I am here to give you a quest. Complete it, and it could change everything.”

As soon as the tree finished speaking, a notification erupted across Zeke’s mind. Since being reborn, he’d seen plenty of the Framework’s notifications, but this one was different. More forceful. The words came with an urgency he couldn’t quite understand. He read the notification:

Quest Progression! You have garnered the interest of a deity who wishes to usher you into a new tier of power. The goddess, Aja, has tasked you with gathering the following items: [Essence of a Flame Warden], [A Frost Giant’s Toe], [Soul of a Warlock], and [Heart of a Wyrm]. Reward: Racial Evolution.

“A racial evolution? But we’ve both already –”

The tree, who Zeke assumed was the goddess named Aja, said, “This will take you to the next tier, regardless of how far you have already progressed.”

Abby’s jaw dropped, and Zeke knew his own face mimicked her expression. In Beacon, he’d done a little research into evolutions, and he had heard nothing to indicate that there was any means of progressing past G-Grade. Not on this plane, at least. He fully expected that it would be possible later, but he didn’t expect such a golden opportunity.

“The path will not be easy,” said the tree-goddess. “I do not expect you to survive. However, if you do, it will be an invaluable boon that will see your way to a comparatively impressive level of power. Be wary, because you are not the only ones to have received such an opportunity, and for less cost.”

Then, with a flash of light, the tree, along with all the mist, was gone. In fact, the entire vale had transformed. Or perhaps they had been someplace else. Either way, both Zeke and Abby were completely shaken to their very cores. The only one who seemed none the worse for wear was Pudge, who had finally awoken.

Nice tree lady, he thought at Zeke.

“Uh…I guess so, buddy,” Zeke replied, still reeling from the encounter. Not only had he just had some of his suspicions confirmed, but he’d also gained an incredible opportunity.

“It was all true,” Abby breathed. Zeke could practically hear her racing heartbeat. “Everything you said…”

“I told you,” he said. Even though he’d known that Abby wasn’t entirely convinced about the existence of powerful, god-like beings or higher planes, he had hoped she would eventually come around.  “I didn’t feel that pressure with Oberon, though. But I guess that might be because I hadn’t been reborn yet. I don’t know. But it felt like…”

“Like I was an overfilled balloon, and the slightest wrong movement would see me exploding,” Abby supplied. “And I don’t think she was malevolent, either. That was just neutrality.”

“I actually think she kind of liked us,” Zeke said, running his hand through his hair and looking around. “We’re just not strong enough to withstand her presence.”

“Well, that’s terrifying,” Abby said before letting out a nervous chuckle.

Zeke couldn’t agree more. With a sigh, he glanced around, searching for familiar landmarks. The valley, at least when it wasn’t under the influence of a tree-goddess, wasn’t huge, so it didn’t take him long to figure out how to get back to the trail they’d been following. He said, “Come on. Let’s get back to the trail. I really don’t want to camp anywhere near here for the night.”