Author: bekern

The tunnel sloped downward gently, eventually evening out as it met an immense circular chamber so large, that most of it was out of sight behind shadows and the press of souls. The floor showed the rings that made up the interior of the World Tree. Rings without number. Around the edge of the chamber, a set of darkened tunnels branched off in a downward direction, like roots branching from a central stem. The mouths of these tunnels were not just shadowed, but lacked light in a way that reminded the Human of the path from the Rock King’s domain. The Dark seemed to rest there. The walls of the chamber were lined with thousands of staircases, spiraling up into the branches above. The roof of the chamber, which was so far away as to be blurred by distance, glowed with shimmering light. What looked like the branches of the Tree spread out of sight.

The floor of the chamber was filled with souls milling around. It was not a bare floor, however. Pale echos of light could be seen here and there among the press. The Human approached one nearby and saw that it was a window in midair. It showed a series of images, each of a human back in the Present going about their daily life. In front of the window sat a soul. This soul did not have the restless quality possessed by many of the others. This one was a bit more solid-seeming, and the Human had an impression of great age and wisdom. From time to time, the soul would touch the window with a sense of great love and kindness. The humans shown in the window all resembled one another, and, the Human now saw, the soul as well. Each window around the great chamber seemed to be showing an ancestral soul the lives of their descendants, allowing them to watch over and guide those left behind. These places acted like stones in a river, their stillness causing eddies in the current of souls flowing around them.

Above the heads of the souls hovered a variety of beings. They were of many shapes and species, some combining animal and human characteristics. Souls gathered below them, and the beings would reach down and chose souls from their crowd to guide either towards the staircases, or towards the tunnel. Some even were directed to other areas within the chamber. Some beings made their choices with careful and calm deliberation, using great tomes or scales to weigh the deeds of the soul and decide their fate. Other seemed to know by instinct where a soul should be, and would fling some into a nearby tunnel, while lifting others onto a staircase. Some stood by the base of a staircase guiding the way of those who sought them, but even with these, some souls turned away and joined the crowd rather than ascend.

These souls joined the many who neither oversaw their families nor sought judgment. This group seemed without purpose. They were formless and listless, similar to those along the shore who lacked even the drive to make it this far. The wanderers tended to drift towards the edge of the chamber. The Human was horrified to see that if they came near the mouth of a tunnel, tendrils of Darkness would reach out and tug at them. Many, without any obvious objection, allowed themselves to be pulled into the Dark. It seemed that those who lost hope were prone to falling into Oblivion.

As the Human walked further into the chamber, more details became evident. There were other chambers that branched off from this one. Some took the form of great halls where souls sat calmly, apparently in contemplation. Others were filled with souls being tormented, but these places did not have the hopeless Darkness of the tunnels. These souls seemed to have hope that their suffering would end and serve a purpose. Still others opened onto great fields where souls wandered aimlessly.

The Human was happy to see that a good number of souls sought the staircases without being directed there. They seemed to move with purpose as they entered the chamber, or as they exited one of the side chambers, and headed for the nearest staircase. These seemed more formed than those that wandered the chamber, and a palpable joy emanated from them.

The chamber was dim, only lit by the light from the branches. In an attempt to see better, the Human raised the crystal overhead. The surrounding souls flinched back, as if in pain. They seemed to wither before it, and some seemed to seek a nearby tunnel to escape the blinding light. Hurriedly, the Human placed the crystal back into the shell container, arranging the mirror behind it to reflect more of the light through the front shell. This dimmed the light enough that the souls returned to normal.

For what seemed like hours, the Human wandered the chamber, hoping to find souls that looked familiar. Had the Human’s love and children already left this place? Had they been pulled down into Oblivion? No. They were full of joy in life. Surely that would help them resist the pull?

The Human neared the center of the chamber, where the rings became smaller and smaller, the heartwood of the Tree. Here, the Human found a small opening in the floor, the same size as the end of the walking stick. The Human planted the end of the staff into the opening and it stuck fast, fusing with the wood around it. The Human then, in a moment of inspiration, affixed the shell container to the top of the staff using the straps. It now stood as a lantern, acting as a beacon to light the center of the chamber. The floating beings turned to note this, but did not alter their behavior. The souls continued to flow around the room, moving around the Human as they did around the ancestral souls and the crowds seeking judgment.

Except. There. A small disruption in the flow. A small patch of discontinuity in the blur of passing souls. It drew closer, and then, after so long, the Human saw them. Three souls, one larger, and two smaller, standing at the edge of the space around the staff. They did not approach closer, and seemed somehow hesitant. The Human reached out a hand, slowly, not wanting to startle them. The larger soul turned away from the light to face the Human. Its form shivered and slowly took a slightly more distinct form, like those of the ancestors. It reached out an arm towards the Human. It had not lost all memory! The soul was still the Human’s lost love in some way. The two smaller souls drew closer to the larger one, and, touching it, began to solidify slightly as well. The children had some surviving self as well!

Moving carefully, never turning away from the trio of souls, the Human took the container down from the staff and stepped slightly away. The three souls followed. The Human reached out to touch the staff, which had already begun to sprout new leaves, thinking a prayer of thanks to the Tree for its help.

The Human slowly walked towards the wall, holding the light aloft, and avoiding large concentrations of souls, so as not to lose sight of the three following. The nearest staircase was near the entrance of a tunnel, and, as they drew close, tentacles of Darkness reached for the Human’s family. The Human stepped between the souls and the opening of the tunnel, holding the light to one side to lead them to safety. So focused on their movement, the Human did not notice a larger tentacle reaching from the opening until it was too late.

“Mine,” hissed the Darkness, as the tentacle tightened on the Human’s leg. “You are always and forever mine. Forsaken by those that bore you, outcast from your home, bereft without your family, you have no hope, no purpose, no reason to continue. Let go and drift with me, let go of the pain and close your eyes. Oblivion is without pain. In time, even your sanity will go.”

The Human felt heavy. Cold began to spread out from the tentacle’s grasp. It had been such a long journey with no true rest. Even if they reached the branches above, would the Human’s family be themselves? Was a spark of recognition enough? Why climb so high only to be disappointed. Why not let it go and fall into Oblivion.

A bright light pierced the Human’s closed eyelids, snapping them open. The Human had dropped the shell container, and the crystal had rolled free. Somehow, in spite of obvious pain, the Human’s love had grasped the crystal and lifted it to the Human’s face. The soul shivered with effort, and the hand holding the crystal wavered as if lifting a great weight. The souls of the children stood on either side and reached for the Human’s hands. The Human could feel a faint pressure from them, despite their diaphanous forms.

Awake once more, the Human took the crystal back and turned, thrusting it out at the Darkness. It blazed brighter than ever before.

“Begone, creature of hopelessness and fear! You cannot hold me if I chose not to be held. I have found my family, and neither you nor any other being will take me from them!” cried the Human.

The Darkness shrank back with a thin squeal of pain. The tentacles could still be seen writhing within the tunnel, but they could not enter the light. The Human set the crystal down at the entrance to the tunnel and backed away. Reaching out, the Human took the hand of the nearest child. The child took the hand of the larger soul, who took the hand of the other child. As one, the family moved to the staircase and began to climb.

As the boat headed out into the open water, it became clear to the Human that this was not a lake or sea, but rather a huge, circular river. Smaller rivers flowed into it, radiating out like spokes from the hub of a wheel. The current of the river, which the Leviathan had called Lethe, moved swiftly around the island in the center, and the boatman had to steer carefully to avoid being swept away. The boat flew across the still water with unnatural speed, and the island across the water grew noticeably. Beneath the surface of the water, which was still mirror-smooth, despite the current, the Human could occasionally see glimpses of the Leviathan’s scales when it rose close to the surface.

By this point, there was almost no light left in the sky. The island was only visible because it blocked the thin gray sliver that defined the horizon. In the center of the island, the Human could just make out a shape that seemed to be the only object taller than a stone. It seemed to give off some slight green light, but it was too far to make out details.

As the boat drew closer, however, it became clear that this object was, in fact, a tree. A tree the size of a mountain. Its size had been obscured by distance, but it now dominated the horizon. The island was mostly made of roots, with just enough earth to fill the spaces between. These roots were wider across than the path the Human had been following. Wider than the river through the forest. The rose from the earth in graceful arcs, plunging back down into the earth and twisting around one another to form an immense gnarled surface. Moss covered them in many places, creating the illusion of a lush meadow dotted with wooden boulders.

The boat came to rest in a gap between the roots, wedging the keel securely into its berth. The boatman gestured that the Human should disembark. As the Human stepped carefully onto the roots, the true scale of the tree became viscerally evident.

The island formed by the tree’s roots was large enough that only the slightest curve could be seen along its edge. The trunk in the center was the size of several large villages laid out end to end. It seemed more like a wall than a cylinder. The bark was a range of browns and grays. No shade seemed out of place for the bark of a tree, but it was odd to see them all together. The branches of the tree stretched out as far as did the roots, creating a mirror of the the island in size and shape. It was so far above, however, that the details of the branches and leaves were lost. The leaves gave off a green glimmer, which was what the Human had seen from the boat. The canopy was so far above, it seemed more a part of the sky than of something anchored to the earth.

Careful to avoid falling down between the roots, the Human set off for the trunk of the great tree. A vibration ran through the roots, and a constant low creaking noise filled the air. It felt like several days walk before the Human neared the trunk. Time was so strange here, though, that it was impossible to tell. As the Human traveled, the going became easier. The roots became wider and less gnarled, creating broad avenues on which the Human made good time. The branches of so large a tree should have cast a shadow, despite the green glimmer from the leaves. However, it seemed the sky was brightening as the Human walked. Reversing the trend towards sunset, the sky now lightened. At first the gray of the horizon spread upward slowly. This was not confined to one region of the sky, however, and the Human could see a ring of light as it appeared to be pre-dawn along the entire horizon. Then, color began to seep back into the sky. Reds and oranges crept up from the horizon and the world became visible again. The Human put the crystal back into the shell container. The glow of the crystal and phoenix feather through the side of the container was more than enough to light the way.

The roots began to slope upward, like foothills. The going became more difficult, and the Human was glad for the walking stick the Fae queen had granted so long ago. By now, the sky was alive with color, as it appeared the sun would rise in every direction at once. The Human was relieved to see light again, but travel was becoming more difficult. The roots sloped steeply up to the trunk, and there appeared no way to scale them further. Turning to one side, the Human decided to circumnavigate the tree, looking for some sign of where the souls who passed on had gone.

It was like walking along a mountain range, but one where the mountains reached up to and became the sky. There had been no sign of souls since the Human arrived on the island, and the Human began to worry that perhaps it was too late.

Abruptly, the Human could go no further. An immense gap in the roots created a canyon that ran into the base of the trunk. Here, the Human found the souls. They streamed in from all directions, the slight distortions they left in the air combining into a shimmering river that flowed between the roots towards the hole in the trunk. On either side of the tunnel, two creatures stood, overlooking the flood of souls, one on either side. They appeared more solid than most things in this world, but their shapes were continually changing. Now a hart, now an eagle, now other avian forms, now a huge fish, now a dragon, now a phoenix, the guardians were always themselves, but never any one shape for long. They watched the souls and the shore with unceasing vigilance. Carefully, wary of provoking such a creature, the Human approached the guardian on the near side of the tunnel.

“Greetings,” the Human called out. The guardian’s head was the height of a large tree in any normal forest, and the Human was unsure if it could hear a single voice from so far below. Slowly, the great head turned and the guardian blinked to focus on the tiny Human at its feet.

“Greetings,” it responded, cocking its head to one side. “What are you doing here? You are not like the others.” Its voice was surprisingly gentle for its size.

“I am seeking my family. They were taken from me, and I wish to be reunited with them. And to seek the city of the Future with them.”

“I know nothing of any city, but all souls that attain the Island of the World Tree come here or one of the other three entrances. They enter the Tree and what becomes of them is not my concern. My duty is to guard the tree. The souls do what they will according to their nature.”

“Other entrances?” the Human asked.

“One for each direction. They all lead to the heart of the Tree,” the guardian replied while turning back to scan the horizon. It appeared to be losing interest not that it had seen that the Human was not a threat.

“May I enter the heart of the Tree?” asked the Human. “Perhaps I can find my family there.”

“I’m afraid not,” responded the guardian. “Mortals are only allowed past as souls.”

“But…,” the Human took a step closer to the edge of the canyon, intending to plead further with the guardian. At this approach, the guardian’s head swung down sharply, blocking the Human from coming closer. Its fangs/beak/horns flashed in the dawn light.

“You may not pass,” growled the guardian. “Your kind has no right.”

“I meant no offense,” said the Human hurriedly, backing away and raising both hands in surrender. The guardian froze in place, staring at the walking stick. Slowly, it lowered its body and bowed its head.

“It is I who should apologize,” it said softly. “I did not see what you carried. The Staff has been lost for so long, I despaired of ever seeing its return.”

“The Staff?” The Human looked at the plain length of wood with some confusion. “It was given to me by the Fae queen.”

“I should have known her kind would have coveted such a thing,” said the guardian. “Despite not knowing its true nature, they would have sensed its age and hoarded it away. They must have seen something special in you to part with it.”

“I met a great tree in the forest who said it was part of Yggdrasil,” the Human began. “Is this…” the Human gestured towards the great Tree.

“That is one name for the World Tree. Others call it the Tree of Life. It has many names. Your people have been tied to the Tree since before you had speech. You all seem to recognize the Tree as sacred. The Tree is known as a creator, the source of eternal life, the bridge between worlds, the source of knowledge and life. And you hold a piece of it in your hand. With that piece, you may pass. I only ask that you leave the Staff with the Tree before you go. It belongs here.”

“Agreed. Thank you.” The Human bowed low.

“May you find what you seek,” replied the guardian, straightening to keep watch once more.

The Human turned and sought a way down into the flood of souls. It took careful climbing, but the Human was soon standing along the edge of the ‘river’. The souls made no sound, and were just as insubstantial as the lost souls on the shore of Lethe. These moved with a purpose, though. The glimpses of form the Human could see were of bodies in determined motion.

Removing the glowing crystal from the shell container and raising it overhead, the Human joined the press of souls and entered the tunnel into the trunk of the great Tree.

With renewed energy, the Human continued down the path. It sloped gently downward, and the darkened, blasted land began to lose even its burnt coloration, fading to an ashen gray. Ahead, a mild rise in the landscape blocked the view ahead. Cresting the hill, the Human stopped, stunned by what lay beyond the hill.

The land continued its slow descent from the base of the hill, an ashen plain marked only by the occasional burnt stump of a tree. These stumps stopped a few hundred paces from the base of the hill, however, replaced by smooth ash. The ashen plain eventually found an end at an immense, dark, still body of of water. The water spread far out into the distance, with a faint shore barely visible at the horizon. To either side the shore curved away, giving the impression that this body of water was somehow circular.

The Human sank to the ground. There was no sign of a way across the water. No trees were intact enough to construct a raft, no boat traffic could be seen, and the distant shore was much too far away to be reached by swimming. Then, the Human noticed something that marred the smooth line of the ashen shore. A blurred shape paced back and forth along the edge of the water, seemingly without aim or pattern. Rising, the Human moved closer.

Up close, the shape was shaped like a person, but was far more indistinct than any of the beings the Human had so far encountered. It was nearly transparent, visible more as a distortion in the air, than as an object.

“Hello?” inquired the Human. “Can you hear me?” The shape did not respond, but continued to restlessly flit back and forth along the shore. Then, a bit further along the shoreline, the Human spotted another such shape. And then another, and another. The shore was swarmed with indistinct shapes milling along the edge, as if they, like the Human, desired to cross the water.

The Human moved to the edge of the great sea, hoping that perhaps it was shallow, and thus could be crossed, at least partially, by wading. Ripples flowed outwards as the Human stepped into the water, marring the smooth surface. The ripples continued endlessly, without diminishing, unlike what the Human remembered from back in the Present. Then, all at once, the ripples froze in place, and a low rumbling could be felt through the shore. With a great shattering sound, the surface of the water began to move again, but this time with a great swell, as something immense began to rise from the deep.

It appeared to be one long, great creature that spread off beyond the horizon in each direction, following the curved shoreline. As it rose, waves of water were pushed towards the shore. The faint figures pulled back, retreating from the water. The Human stood fast, letting the waves flow past and then recede. The huge creature was not just rising to the surface, but it was moving towards the shore.

Slowly, the gargantuan bulk drew closer. It slowed as it came, and when it came close enough for details to be visible, the Human could see scales covering its skin. A bulge became visible in the line of its body, and the Human saw the head of the creature emerge from the water. Strangely, it held what appeared to be the tail of a similar creature in its mouth. It did not seem to have eyes or any other way of sensing the world, but the Human could feel the focus of its attention. As the head drew up on the beach, it never released the tail in its mouth. The tail trailed off into the water, becoming thicker as it went, until it became the right side of the creature’s body, leading off into the horizon. This beast was biting its own tail!

“How did you come here?” A great pressure filled the Human’s mind. It did not resolve into words, but the meaning was somehow clear. The Human hurriedly bowed.

“I seek the spirits of my family who should have passed this way before me.” The Human was suddenly struck by the thought that perhaps the faded shapes along the shore were spirits. Were the Human’s family among them? How could the Human recognize them? They did not seem to interact with the world other than to avoid the water.

“I am not concerned with the travels of shades,” rumbled the great beast. “My concern is how one of your kind came to this place. You do not belong here, and you must leave. These waters are not to be disturbed by the living. Although, you are not entirely living, are you?” The Human again felt the force of the beast’s attention. Eyeless, it seemed to peer directly into the Human’s mind and soul, and it did not seem be be impressed by what if found.

“I do not know how I came to be here, Great One,” answered the Human. “My grief pulled me to this place, and all those I have encountered told me I must follow this path to find my family. I did not mean to disturb you or this place. Please, did my family come this way, and, if so, is there a way to follow them?” There was a rumbling pressure that felt like low laughter.

“Great One. Could it be that you do not know me? I am the beginning and the end. All is one in me. I shall rise at the end of time, and yet time, and I, have no end. I am the border between chaos and order, between Past, Present, and Future. I am the World Serpent, the Ouroboros. I hold back the waters that would flood the land, and the land that would cover the waters. If you came down the path behind you, you may have seen an echo of Myself in Jormungandr, yes? Still battling the Storm God, I imagine.”

“Yes,” replied the Human. “Along with the rest of the Dragon’s heads. The Storm God said they would fight until the end of time.”

“And yet,” rumbled the World Serpent, “I have no end. I suppose what they say is still true, in a way. Were one or both of them to die, it would mean that chaos and order were no longer in balance, and all would end. You seek the spirits of your family. You have come a long way to find them. Assuming they were not among those lost souls along the shore, here, then they would have made their way across to the Isle.”

“Is there a way to tell if the are still here?” asked the Human. “These spirits do not seem to know I am here.”

“These are the Lost. They had so much fear in their souls that they refused to make the last leg of their journey. They feared Oblivion so strongly that they have condemned themselves to an even worse fate. They have only to take a step, and they would be saved, but their fear keeps them from even so small an effort. They refuse to continue the cycle, and are thus Lost. Were those you seek full of dread, fearing all things?”

“No,” answered the Human, relieved. “They were full of love and life and joy. Even when they sickened, they did not fear what came next.”

“Good. Then they would have made it to the Isle.”

“But how? I see no boats. Should I swim?”

“Only if you wish to lose all that you are!” laughed the great serpent. “The waters of Lethe will erase what holds your Self together. They embody chaos and are poison to the Selves of mortals. You must wait for the boatman. He will carry you across safely, but you must pay your way.”

“I have no coin,” said the Human. “What payment does the boatman seek?”

“That is up to him,” answered the serpent. “He should arrive shortly, drawn by the call of your soul. Take care when you board his boat, however. You must not make more ripples, and were you to fall into the water violently, far more than your memories would be lost. If the chaos of the waters gained access to a living soul, the balance would fail, and the Waters would cover the Earth once more.”

“Thank you for your warning,” said the Human, stepping carefully back from the edge of the water. “I shall take care.”

“See that you do.” The World Serpent began to slide back into the water, eventually disappearing from sight. The water became mirror-smooth once again. The Human sat down to wait, hoping for patience.

It was not long before a small dot appeared on the horizon, directly out from where the path entered the water. It drew closer, and the Human saw it was a boat with a figure at the prow, using a long oar to push the boat smoothly across the water. With a soft crunch, it pushed up onto the ashen beach, just next to the path.

The boatman, tall and angular under the shifting folds of an ethereal black robe, reached out a hand towards the Human. The hand at first appeared to be skeletal, but it was, in fact covered in a sort of flesh. It was insubstantial, like the Human’s cabin, translucent and wavered like fog.

“I need to cross,” said the Human. “What is the fare?” There was a long pause before the boatman spoke with a long-disused voice.

“Gold,” rasped the boatman. The Human despaired. There had been no coin in all of this strange world. The Human opened the turtle shell container, hoping to find something of worth, and saw the gold framed mirror from the Water Mother. The Human was loathe to part with such a gift, but it was the only gold available. The Human held the mirror out to the boatman.

The boatman reached to take the mirror, but froze as soon as he made contact with the frame. It was a long moment before he shuddered and pulled his hand back.

“This came from the Mother,” he whispered. “With her blessing, you have been given passage on all of her waters, even here.” The boatman gestured for the Human to board.

Carefully, mindful of the World Serpent’s warning, the Human clambered into the boat, and carefully put the mirror back into the container.

“Thank you. I need to go where the spirits of the dead go. Is that the Isle?”

The boatman nodded silently and pushed the boat away from the beach. With a deft motion of the oar, the boat turned and headed for the far shore.