THE OWL, SOLEMN AND SILENT AS EVER, TILTED ITS HEAD SLIGHTLY, FIXING BASTIAN WITH A GAZE THAT SPOKE MORE THAN ANY WORDS COULD. THIS CREATURE, THIS ANCIENT ALLY, HAD ONCE BEEN INTEGRAL TO THEIR CAUSE. BASTIAN HAD LONG SUSPECTED THAT THE SNOWY OWL HAD CLOSE TIES TO THE ELVES. HE MIGHT EVEN BE ONE OF THEIR ELITE, OR PERHAPS, SOMETHING MUCH MORE MYSTERIOUS. AND YET, WITHOUT THE SNOWY OWL'S AID, THE COALITION WOULD HAVE BEEN LOST LONG AGO.
WHEN BASTIAN CAUGHT SIGHT OF THE SNOWY OWL AGAIN, HE ALMOST DIDN'T RECOGNIZE THE MAJESTIC CREATURE THAT HAD ONCE SOARED ABOVE THE BATTLEFIELD.
THE SNOWY OWL'S ONCE PRISTINE, SNOW-WHITE FEATHERS WERE NOW STAINED WITH GRIME, AND BENEATH ITS WINGS, FAINT TRACES OF BLOOD MARKED THE REMNANTS OF PAST BATTLES. A DEEP SCAR SLASHED ACROSS ITS ROUND, ONCE ADORABLE FACE, DANGEROUSLY CLOSE TO ITS LEFT EYE, SO CLOSE THAT IT WAS A MIRACLE IT HADN'T BEEN TORN OUT COMPLETELY. THE SIGHT OF THE WOUNDED BIRD MADE BASTIAN'S CHEST TIGHTEN. IT WAS CLEAR THE SNOWY OWL HAD BEEN THROUGH UNIMAGINABLE HARDSHIPS.
IT WAS THANKS TO HIS INTERVENTION THAT THE ARMY HAD ACCESS TO DEATH'S FIRE, A POWERFUL ALCHEMICAL TOOL. WITHOUT IT, THEIR WARRIORS WOULD HAVE BEEN FORCED TO MARCH INTO BATTLE ARMED ONLY WITH THE RAW MATERIALS OF THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE, AND THEIR FRAGILE DEFENSES MIGHT HAVE CRUMBLED UNDER THE PRESSURE OF THE WAR.
STILL, THERE WERE WHISPERS AMONG THE RANKS. "IF HE KNOWS SO MUCH," SOME HAD MURMURED, "WHAT ELSE COULD WE LEARN IF WE... TOOK HIM IN?"
THESE WERE DANGEROUS THOUGHTS, AND BASTIAN HAD BEEN ORDERED TO REPORT THE SNOWY OWL'S EVERY MOVE. WHEN THE OWL REAPPEARED, A FEW IN THE COALITION PRESSURED HIM TO ACT. BASTIAN HAD NODDED WITH A PLACATING SMILE, BUT DEEP DOWN, HE HAD NO INTENTION OF BETRAYING SUCH A NOBLE CREATURE. TO HAND THE SNOWY OWL OVER WOULD NOT ONLY BE TREACHEROUS, IT WOULD BE UTTERLY FOOLISH.
HOWEVER, THE THREAT LOOMED. IF ANYONE ELSE SAW THEM TOGETHER, QUESTIONS WOULD ARISE. ONES THAT BASTIAN WASN'T READY TO ANSWER.
"FOLLOW ME," BASTIAN MUTTERED UNDER HIS BREATH, LEADING THE SNOWY OWL TO A SECLUDED SPOT. "TO THE OLD PLACE."
WITHOUT A WORD, THE SNOWY OWL GLIDED AHEAD, ITS TATTERED WINGS CARRYING IT SILENTLY THROUGH THE SHADOWS. THE OWL HAD BROUGHT SOMETHING WITH HIM, A SOUL-LEAVING POTION. ONLY THEN DID BASTIAN REALIZE THAT THE SNOWY OWL WAS NOT ENTIRELY CORPOREAL; HE HAD REMAINED IN A HALF-SPIRITUAL STATE, SOMEWHERE BETWEEN THE LIVING AND THE DEAD.
TOGETHER, THEY DESCENDED BENEATH THE NEWLY REBUILT ALCHEMY TOWER, WHERE BASTIAN, NOW ACCUSTOMED TO THE RITUAL, COMPLETED THE SOUL-LEAVING CEREMONY. HE FOLLOWED THE SNOWY OWL INTO THE EARTH'S VEINS, RETRACING A PATH HE HAD ONLY TRAVELED ONCE BEFORE.
THIS TIME, IT WAS EASIER. IN JUST OVER AN HOUR, THEY ARRIVED AT THEIR DESTINATION, AND BASTIAN QUICKLY UNDERSTOOD WHY THE SNOWY OWL HAD RISKED SO MUCH TO BRING HIM BACK.
"THE RIVER... IT'S DRYING UP?" BASTIAN GASPED, HIS VOICE BARELY ABOVE A WHISPER AS HE STARED AT THE SIGHT BEFORE HIM.
THE ONCE BOUNDLESS RIVER OF SOULS, THE ETHEREAL OCEAN THAT CONNECTED THE LIVING AND THE DEAD, HAD SHRUNK DRAMATICALLY. LARGE SECTIONS OF THE RIVERBED WERE VISIBLE, WITH STRANDED SOULS HELPLESSLY SCATTERED ACROSS THE BARREN GROUND. THE NEVER-ENDING FLOW OF THE RIVER STYX HAD BEEN DISRUPTED; CRACKS AND FAULTS NOW MARRED ITS SURFACE.
"IN OUR WORLD," THE SNOWY OWL FINALLY SPOKE, HIS VOICE HEAVY WITH SORROW, "NEW LIFE IS ALMOST NONEXISTENT."
THE OWL'S WORDS HUNG IN THE AIR, SHARP AS THE WINTER WIND. "THE BARRIERS BETWEEN DIMENSIONS ARE CRACKING, AND IT WON'T BE LONG BEFORE CREATURES FROM OTHER REALMS INVADE. EVEN PLANTS, BASTIAN... EVEN PLANTS HAVE SOULS, AND NEW CROPS CAN NO LONGER GROW. THE SPIRITS WITHIN THEM FADE BEFORE THEY EVEN TAKE ROOT. NO MATTER HOW MUCH WE TRY TO INFUSE THEM WITH THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE, THE RESULTS ARE NO BETTER THAN A 'SOUL-HOSTING TREE' AN EMPTY VESSEL."
A BITTER CHILL SWEPT THROUGH BASTIAN'S BONES AS THE SNOWY OWL CONTINUED, HIS VOICE FILLED WITH AN EERIE CALM. "WINTER IS COMING. THE END IS DRAWING NEAR. AND YET, THE COALITION FORCES AND THE ELVES' HIGH-RANKING OFFICIALS ARE SO CONSUMED BY THEIR HATRED FOR ONE ANOTHER, THEY FAIL TO SEE THAT OUR WORLD IS DYING."
THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME BASTIAN HAD HEARD THE SNOWY OWL SPEAK SO PLAINLY ABOUT THE APOCALYPSE. BUT AS HE THOUGHT ABOUT THE DESOLATE LANDSCAPE HE HAD CROSSED TO GET HERE, HE REALIZED THAT IT SHOULDN'T HAVE SURPRISED HIM. THE SIGNS WERE EVERYWHERE.
THE DYING RIVER OF SOULS BEFORE THEM WAS THE MOST BLATANT. THE VERY FOUNDATION OF THEIR WORLD'S EXISTENCE WAS UNRAVELING, AND WITH IT, THE FUTURE ITSELF. TECHNOLOGIES LIKE THE ALCHEMY TOWER AND THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE; ONCE SEEN AS THE KEYS TO POWER, WERE NOW INSTRUMENTS OF DESTRUCTION. THEY WERE DRAINING THE WORLD DRY, SIPHONING AWAY ITS LIFE FORCE LIKE A WELL THAT COULD NEVER BE REFILLED.
BOTH SIDES IN THE WAR WERE STOCKPILING PHILOSOPHER'S STONES AS IF THEY WERE SOME KIND OF MAGICAL SOLUTION, WHEN IN REALITY, THEY WERE NOTHING MORE THAN SUPERCHARGED WATER PUMPS, HASTENING THE DEMISE OF AN ALREADY FRAGILE WORLD.
"TEN YEARS," THE SNOWY OWL SAID, HIS EYES GLEAMING WITH AN ANCIENT, SOMBER WISDOM. "TEN YEARS AT MOST BEFORE EVERYTHING COLLAPSES. ONCE THE FINAL PHASE OF DOOMSDAY BEGINS, THERE WILL BE NO TURNING BACK. THE FATE OF THIS WORLD WILL BE SEALED, AND EVERYONE, ELF OR HUMAN, WILL PERISH."
TEN YEARS... THE WORDS STRUCK BASTIAN LIKE A THUNDERBOLT. HOW COULD THEY POSSIBLY END THIS WAR IN THAT SHORT TIME?
IT SEEMED HOPELESS. YET THE SNOWY OWL HAD RISKED EVERYTHING TO DELIVER THIS WARNING. COULD THEY AFFORD TO IGNORE IT?
BASTIAN STOOD IN SILENCE, HIS MIND RACING. THOUGH HE HAD BEEN LIVING IN SECLUSION IN GIANT VALLEY, AWAY FROM THE CHAOS OF THE WORLD, HE WAS FAR FROM IGNORANT OF THE EVENTS UNFOLDING BEYOND ITS BORDERS.
A GLOBAL WAR RAGED ON, WITH COUNTLESS RACES EMBROILED IN THE CONFLICT. IT WASN'T JUST A SIMPLE CLASH OF TWO ARMIES, IT WAS A BATTLE FOR THE FATE OF ENTIRE CIVILIZATIONS. EVEN WHEN ONE SIDE SEEMED TO GAIN AN UPPER HAND, THE OTHER SIDE COULD ALWAYS RETREAT, BIDING THEIR TIME, TRADING SPACE FOR TIME. THE WAR HAD EVOLVED INTO A DRAWN-OUT STALEMATE, A DELICATE AND DANGEROUS BALANCE WHERE BOTH SIDES POURED EVERYTHING THEY HAD INTO AN ESCALATING ARMS RACE.
DEATH FOLLOWED LIKE A SHADOW, ITS PRESENCE FELT EVERYWHERE. THE ACCUMULATION OF WEAPONS GREW AT AN ALARMING RATE. EACH DAY, THE STOCKPILES OF ARMS INCREASED, FUELING THE FIRE OF WAR. THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE, ONCE A RARE AND MYSTICAL ARTIFACT, HAD BECOME AN INDISPENSABLE WEAPON OF WAR, ITS PRODUCTION NEVER CEASING. BOTH SIDES WERE ADDICTED TO ITS POWER, UNABLE TO AFFORD A SINGLE MOMENT OF HESITATION. STOPPING WOULD MEAN BEING BRANDED A TRAITOR, AND IN THIS VOLATILE CLIMATE, NO ONE DARED TO BE THE FIRST.
THE SITUATION WAS AKIN TO THE COLD WAR NUCLEAR STANDOFF OF ANCIENT TIMES, NEITHER SIDE COULD AFFORD TO BACK DOWN. THE MOMENT ANYONE EVEN HINTED AT REDUCING THEIR PHILOSOPHER'S STONE RESERVES, THEY'D LOSE EVERYTHING.
"I'M JUST AN ORDINARY HUNTER... AND NOW, AN ORDINARY ALCHEMIST," BASTIAN MUTTERED, A BITTER SMILE TUGGING AT THE CORNERS OF HIS LIPS. "WHY WOULD SOMETHING LIKE THIS BE PLACED IN MY HANDS?"
HIS THOUGHTS DRIFTED, UNBIDDEN, TO THE TIME ON THAT DISTANT ISLAND, WHEN THE SOUL FIRE HAD BEEN CAREFULLY PASSED TO HIM. THE WEIGHT OF IT IN HIS HANDS HAD FELT LIKE MORE THAN JUST FIRE. PERHAPS, FROM THAT MOMENT, HIS PATH HAD BEEN SET. PERHAPS, SOME THINGS WERE WRITTEN IN THE STARS FROM THE BEGINNING.
"IS IT TRUE, THEN?" BASTIAN'S VOICE BROKE THROUGH THE SILENCE, HIS TONE CALM DESPITE THE GRAVITY OF THE SITUATION. "YOU WANT TO RETURN THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONES TO THEIR SOUL FORM... FILL THE RIVER AGAIN, EXTEND THE LIFE OF OUR WORLD?"
THE SNOWY OWL SAID NOTHING, BUT ITS NOD WAS ENOUGH.
"SO, TO DO THAT," BASTIAN CONTINUED, PIECING IT TOGETHER, "YOU NEED THE FIRE OF DEATH, THE ONE THAT CAN MELT THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE. THAT'S WHY YOU CAME TO ME."
HE THOUGHT BACK TO THE FLAME HE HAD WIELDED, A TOOL TO PROCESS THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONES. BUT NOW, IT WAS CLEAR THAT THE OWL'S TRUE INTENTION HAD BEEN SOMETHING FAR MORE RADICAL. THE SNOWY OWL DIDN'T WANT TO REFINE THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONES. IT WANTED TO DESTROY THEM. TO OBLITERATE THE VERY THING THAT HAD FUELED THE WAR AND DRIVEN THE WORLD TO THE BRINK OF COLLAPSE. ONLY BY DOING SO COULD THE RIVER STYX, THE FLOW OF SOULS, BE RESTORED, AND WITH IT, THE BALANCE OF THE WORLD.