I. The whisper reaches Velyra
In the heart of the continent, bordering steaming lakes and mirrored forests, stood Velyra , a city of suspended bridges and living crystals. For centuries, it was a focal point of trade, culture, and learning, famous for its Inner Compass Archive: a place where each citizen privately recorded their most intimate thoughts, sealed by vibration and never read by others.
Velyra hadn't aligned herself with judgment or flourishing. Not out of fear, but by choice: they believed that the intimate should remain secret . That inner truth was a process, not a spectacle.
But then, the whispers from the transparent root came. Not with explosions. Not with visions. With a question:
"What if what you keep also wants to be heard?"
And Velyra decided not to run away.
II. The Opening of the Inner Compass
The first signs appeared in the Archive. Some seals began to break on their own. Not violently, but as if the pent-up emotions had decided to come out.
A woman read the writing her mother never shared and learned why she had avoided her.
A librarian found his own file written by him twenty years earlier, and wept as if reading another man's.
A little girl heard her name echoed again. It wasn't a human voice. It was her reflection echoing in the roots.
And then, in the center of Velyra's oldest square, a transparent root sprouted. Not imposed. Not planted. Just acknowledged.
III. The Full Permit Council
The Velyran Council, composed of the Eight Mirrors (citizens elected by emotional diversity rather than rank), met in a chamber open to the public. They did not hide. They did not debate in private.
The first mirror, Ekran, spoke:
—"What do we do when what we never wanted to show now asks to be seen?"
The seventh, Maeva, replied:
—"We allow it. But we don't force it."
And unanimously, they voted in favor of an unprecedented policy:
"Full Permission: Every root will be free to blossom according to the truth each soul is ready to reveal. None will be guided, held back, or denied. Only accompanied."
IV. The intertwined resonances
The transparent root didn't grow alone. Soon, white roots sprouted alongside it, vibrating in harmony. Then some gray roots appeared , not from pain, but from the acceptance that there were things that would never be repaired... but that could still be looked upon with tenderness.
And for the first time, a black root sprouted in peace.
Not as a negation, but as a visible structure , without judgment. A thorn in the garden that didn't ask to be uprooted.
Citizens began to write again. Not on stamps, but out loud. The squares filled with open narratives. Stories without morals. Truths without resolution.
And Velyra flourished without flourishing like no other city.
V. The arrival of Akihiko, Kazun and Aeri
Upon arriving in Velyra, the group was greeted with silent rituals. Not out of respect or fear, but because the city already resonated with what they brought.
Kazun felt his gray root quieten. It didn't disappear. It harmonized .
Lior, touching a white root in the plaza, heard his own voice sing a song he had never learned.
Akihiko sat next to the transparent root and closed his eyes. He didn't ask. He didn't guide. He was just part of it.
And Aeri, for the first time since her appearance, spoke out loud:
—"Here, the mirror doesn't cut. It only reflects. This place… can hold what's coming."
VI. The warning of the new symbol
The following night, an unknown shape appeared in the sky: a floating spiral of light, composed of white, gray, and black lines, with a translucent one in the center. It made no sound. It caused no fear.
But those who looked at her dreamed without sleeping.
They dreamed of themselves.
They dreamed of what they hadn't yet spoken. Of what they could no longer hide.
And when dawn broke, those people wrote their dreams on the roots.
Not to be remembered. To be understood.
VII. Serak looks from afar
Though he had abandoned his tower, Serak still watched from distant ruins. He had no followers. He had no structure. Only memory.
And seeing Velyra, he whispered:
—"Perhaps… the blossoming wasn't a mistake. Perhaps… it was I who wanted to define it too soon."
And on his back, a root sprouted… neither white, nor black, nor grey, nor transparent.
Just one line… with all the others inside.
And he smiled, for the first time in years.
END OF CHAPTER 125