My world-tree system-Chapter 54 - 53: Hope

Night had fallen on Vollua, enveloping the city in a veil of deceptive tranquillity. The dome of vegetation cast moving shadows on the ground, like memories of a tormented past still embedded in the walls.

At the foot of the Mother Tree, in a cocoon of braided roots, lay Kassandra.

Or at least, what was left of her.

Foster sat a few steps away, silent, his golden gaze fixed on her.

The light from the luminescent spores cast a pale glow over her body, revealing the horror of what she had become.

On one side, the stigmata of the mark remained.

Her skin was blackened and cracked, with dark veins that still pulsed like a beast ready to awaken.

Her fingernails, once clean and sharp like a warrior’s, had lengthened into slightly curved claws.

And on the other...

The influence of the World Tree.

Her hair had turned green and golden, and on her left arm, a smooth white bark now covered her bruised skin. Gentle, soothing pulses ran through that part of her body, like a plant heartbeat.

She was halfway between two irreconcilable states.

A being torn between light and shadow.

Foster let out a long sigh and ran a hand over his face.

He’d seen so many wounds in his life.

Those of the body, which he knew how to heal.

Those of the soul, which he knew how to soothe.

But what Kassandra had suffered was beyond all that.

He looked down at his own hands.

His palms, marked by centuries of struggle, were trembling slightly.

Was she still herself?

Or had he saved an empty shell, a body whose soul had already been consumed by that foul mark?

Foster clenched his fists.

No.

He refused to believe that Kassandra was lost.

The World Tree had accepted her.

Their bond still existed.

And as long as he felt it...

As long as he could feel even a glimmer of her...

He would fight to bring her back.

He breathed in deeply, before reaching out and placing his palm gently on her forehead.

Beneath his warm, fever-scarred skin, he felt the two forces battling.

Foster sighed deeply, watching the pale light of dawn pierce through the colossal branches of the Mother Tree. It had been a long night. Another one where he hadn’t slept a wink.

His thoughts had remained focused on Kassandra, on her uncertain state, on the silent battle being waged in her body. But also to what he had seen and felt.

Hope.

Not an illusion.

A real, tangible one.

He stood up, leaving behind the cocoon of roots that protected his former captain.

Every step he took outwards made his heart heavier as much as it gave him strength.

He had to speak.

He had to speak.

The survivors were gathered in front of the central clearing, just below the roots of the Mother Tree.

Thirty of them.

Now there were only thirty.

A fresh breeze passed between them, slightly lifting the hastily-sewn makeshift cloaks and sweeping away faces marked by fatigue and pain.

Foster looked at them one by one.

Warriors.

Craftsmen.

Scholars.

Once, a people united in greatness. Today, a handful of survivors clinging to a dream that seemed ready to collapse.

He stepped forward and slightly raised his right hand, marked by the World Tree.

- We survived.

A silence.

He didn’t look away, letting his golden eyes meet each pair of tarnished pupils.

- We saw our brothers and sisters fall.

- We saw our city burn.

- We felt fear bite us, hunger assail us, doubt poison us.

His voice was calm, poised, but every word sounded like the beat of a drum.

- And yet... we’re still here.

Some lowered their eyes, others clenched their fists.

- Yesterday, we were on the brink of the abyss.

- Yesterday, we were just a handful, doomed to disappear.

- But today... today, we are reborn.

His gaze hardens.

- The World Tree is still growing.

- Our bond grows stronger.

- And now... we have a way of ensuring the future.

There were murmurs. Eyes clung to him with a new glow.

Hope.

- This world thought we were going to die out.

- That we were a flickering flame, ready to be blown out.

- But they’re wrong.

He took a deep breath and placed a hand on his own chest, where the power of the World Tree now beat.

- We will rise again.

- We will rebuild.

- We will survive... and one day, Vollua will once again become the city it was meant to be.

He slowly lowered his hand.

- I promise you this.

There was silence.

Then a shiver passed through the assembly.

A shiver that had nothing to do with fear.

A surge.

A fire that was slowly rekindling in the tired hearts of his people.

The silence stretched on after his last words, suspended between hope and uncertainty. Foster let it sink in, giving everyone time to absorb the meaning of his promise.

Then, slowly, he spoke again.

- You’re probably wondering why I’m saying this. Why I believe we can still move forward in spite of everything.

Tired faces looked up at him.

- Not so long ago, I would have doubted it myself. After the attack, after our losses, after everything we’ve been through, I might have thought our story would end there. But something changed.

A breath passed through the imposing branches of the Mother Tree, as if to underline her words.

- Last night, the Mother Tree grew, more powerful than ever.

A shudder ran through the assembly. They had all felt it.

- But that wasn’t all.

He raised his hand and pointed to the highest branch of the Mother Tree, where a unique fruit, shining with a soft, supernatural glow, was growing.

- The Mother Tree gave birth to this. A unique fruit. We don’t yet know what’s inside it, but it’s a symbol of something new.

The elves stared at the fruit with fascination and apprehension.

- But that’s not all.

He placed a hand on his own chest, where the seed of the World Tree was growing inside him.

- I’ve changed too.

All eyes converged on him.

- I feel something different. A new strength.

He slowly lowered his hand, his eyes burning with unshakeable determination.

- Thanks to this... we have a way of securing our future.

The elves exchanged puzzled looks.

- I’m not talking about mere survival. I’m talking about renewal.

He took a deep breath before revealing what he had discovered.

- I’ve acquired a new talent and every night of the full moon, thanks to a ritual, we’ll be able to create new life.

A stony silence fell over the clearing.

- A child, an elf from the World Tree.

Some people’s eyes widened, others gasped in astonishment.

- We’re not doomed to disappear any more.

He paused, letting his words sink into each mind.

- What do you mean? asked Köflik

- Every night of the full moon, we will have the opportunity to rebuild what we have lost. To bring forth a new generation, carrying within it the power of the World Tree.

Reactions varied. Some remained frozen in a mixture of disbelief and wonder. Others seemed to hesitate, not knowing if they could really believe it.

But one thing was certain: a spark had been reignited.

A future was possible.

Foster let an almost imperceptible smile graze his lips.

- We are not survivors condemned to wander aimlessly. We are the heirs of a people who resisted extinction.

He paused, scanning the assembly with his eyes.

- And as long as we stand... Vollua will live on. Let’s relax a bit, tonight’s a party!

’The elves cheered.

Night had fallen on Vollua, bathing the rebuilt city in a silvery glow. For the first time in days, the elves no longer trembled under the shadow of an imminent threat.

A huge bonfire rose up in the centre of the clearing, casting dancing shadows on the imposing trunks of the World Woods. The air was filled with the crackle of flames, the scent of burning herbs and the sound of animated discussion.

Foster, sitting on an upturned trunk, watched his people. He could see them drinking, laughing and relaxing. For some, it seemed almost unreal. But they all needed it.

It was a night of celebration. An evening to remind them that they were alive.

- By the roots of the Mother Tree, that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile like that, Köflik!’ exclaimed Giovanni, giving the old elf a friendly pat on the shoulder.

Köflik raised an eyebrow before taking a long sip of an amber liqueur.

- ’I smile a lot more often than you think, kid. You’re just too distracted to notice.’

Giovanni burst out laughing.

- ’You mean too busy saving your old carcass in mental combat, is that it?’

- ’Tss. I’d remind you that if it wasn’t for me, Foster would still be fumbling around in this battle against the mark. So a little respect for your elders.’

- ’Your elders? With all you’ve been drinking, I’ll soon have to pick you up off the floor.’

They both burst out laughing, the tensions of the last few days seeming to evaporate in the intoxication of the evening.

Not far away, Lorie sang an ancient song, her soft, melodious voice rising above the hubbub of the party. An elven song, a hymn to rebirth.

The elves gradually stopped talking and listened to her. The words spoke of resilience, the strength of a people broken but standing.

Foster felt a shiver run down his spine. It was a song that Lïanna liked to hum.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the melody revive memories of a bygone era.

He opened his eyes again and felt a presence sitting next to him. It was Köflik.

- You should have a drink, Foster. It’ll help you take that burdened strategist look off your face.’

Foster smiled slightly.

- ’Even in celebration, I can’t forget what lies ahead.’

Köflik sighed, crossing his arms.

- ’We all know that. But tonight, we’re celebrating the fact that we’re still here. Including you.’

He watched the elves laughing, eating, exchanging anecdotes, as if they were trying to anchor these moments in their memories before the war caught up with them.

- ’We’ve lost so many people, Köflik.’

- ’Yes. But we’re still here. And we have a future.’

Foster nodded, accepting his friend’s words.

A fragile but real hope

As the night wore on, the elves danced under the canopy of the Woods of the World. Some collapsed from exhaustion, others continued to celebrate fervently, as if they wanted to engrave this moment in their souls.

Foster stood up, gazing at the Mother Tree that watched over them, imposing and silent.

- I miss you Lïanna, I miss you.

With these words, he turned to go and rest, without noticing the faint glow on the highest branch of the Mother Tree.