Through the ghostly veil of an impenetrable fog, the sound of a male voice echoed:
"Sister, don't worry, I will definitely figure out how to free you from these shackles, just wait a little longer..."
As if in answer, a barely distinguishable point began to glow with a golden radiance in the seemingly impervious shroud.
Drenched in sweat, the young man's eyes snapped open, and he gasped for air.
Looking around, he couldn't tell where the dream ended and reality began.
A modest knock on the door finally tore him from the grip that so reluctantly released his consciousness.
"Just a dream?.." he thought.
Hastily throwing on his robe, he opened the door and, nodding a greeting to the young girl standing there, accepted a tray from her outstretched hands. It held a wonderfully fragrant drink, sweetly pungent in smell, and several strangely twisted, root-like foods.
"If the guest of the Sacred Arbor needs anything, please ring the bell on the balcony," she said.
Silently thanking her again, he quickly closed the door with his elbow. For some reason, the girl's intent, curious gaze flustered him greatly.
After a quick glance around, he decided to enjoy his meal sitting on a large tree branch that served as a sort of bench right by the window in the room, first tying his long hair back into something resembling a ponytail.
"Maybe I should cut it off; it's really in the way, and it's not very manly anyway," he thought. With this fleeting idea came a lack of understanding of the meaning behind these thoughts. Why did he have long hair if he didn't identify with it and considered it not his? What was happening at all?
Sitting on the bench, he stared blankly at the landscape outside the window.
Outside was a patch of blue sky, framed by the branches of the giant tree adorned with intricately protruding, semi-transparent leaves. The light refracted by the leaves sent a scattering of sunbeams into the room, bringing joy to the observer. He could, of course, step out onto the small balcony just beyond the window, edged with softly intertwined branch-rails of the tree-giant, but the young man was very unsettled by the strong wind that clearly reigned outside; it even seemed to him that the bench inside the room sometimes shook from the onslaught of the raging gale.
The only truly surprising thing was the glass bell that hung motionless right next to the balcony door outside the room. Even its clapper showed no signs of swaying.
Studying the food on his plate, he decided to start with the drink, but the moment he took a sip, he almost spat it all out. Its taste completely contradicted its smell—a bitterness unpleasantly burned his throat. Setting the cup aside with slight disgust, he reluctantly picked up what looked more like raw roots the thickness of a finger. Twirling the unremarkable product in his hands, he cautiously took a bite.
"Hmm, this is actually quite edible. A light sweetness with a nutty taste and a hint of something spicy."
Once breakfast was done, he noticed a book standing on the windowsill that he hadn't seen before. Curiously reaching out, he spent some time carefully studying the spine, running his finger over the book's uneven surface before picking it up.
Though the cover was bright, the writing on the spine was completely illegible—like a child's scribbles.
"Strange. I understand what this is and what it's for, but I can't read anything. It's as if it's written in a completely unfamiliar language."
Filled with curiosity, he opened it, hoping for at least some pictures, but unfortunately, the entire book consisted of rows of unknown sticks, dots, and intricate squiggles.
Sighing in disappointment, he was about to close the book when something to the side caught his attention.
To his left, from the surface of the windowsill, right before his eyes, a rose bush was growing and blooming, shimmering with a muted radiance along its stems.
"What kind of miracle is this?"
Its fresh aroma was so enticing that the young man couldn't resist; he reached out and touched the attractive petals, intending to check if all this was really happening.
The moment he did, a thorn shot out from the flower and mercilessly pricked his finger, drawing blood.
Hissing from surprise and pain, he recoiled from the windowsill, dropping the book onto the floor, cover up.
Meanwhile, the bush simply disintegrated into a pile of bright, glowing points, like sparks dissolving into space without a trace, as if there had never been any plant there.
Nothing else unusual happened, and the young man was about to bend down to pick up the book from the floor when his heart suddenly froze.
Clutching his chest with both hands, the youth couldn't take a breath. He felt like he was about to suffocate until a painful jolt inside forced him to take a hoarse, pained gasp.
Coughing, he felt his mouth fill with a metallic taste.
Wincing from the unpleasant sensations, he still picked up the fallen book—something inside him wouldn't let him leave it lying there.
Moving back to the bed, the young man rubbed his forehead and looked inside the book again. With a rustle, he opened it, filled with hope that he might have missed something important.
At first, the text was just as incomprehensible and even somewhat blurry, making him think he had inadvertently smeared the writing with his fingers.
But as he turned the page again, as if by some hidden force, his eyes seemed to focus, and the text, revealing its embedded meaning to the reader, appeared before him in all its pristine directness.
The young man almost dropped the book again from the sheer weirdness happening to him. His stunned gaze fixed on the text:
"...for according to the teachings bequeathed to us by the Great Ancients, to Their descendants and successors, the subjugation and accumulation of energetic force, for the purpose of mastering the science of matter manipulation, is only possible through providing free access to the energy channels in the human body, which in turn play a key role in circulating the internal energy that sustains the body's life..."
Just then, he was distracted by some commotion outside his door, accompanied by barely audible whispers and giggles, followed by a sudden crash that he could no longer ignore. He hurried to the door and yanked it open, holding his breath.
The scene before him left him bewildered. It looked like a small explosion had occurred in the corridor. Bird-girls were sprawled here and there on the floor, rubbing sore spots. At first glance, there were at least five of them. Some feathers still floated in the air, caught in the air currents flowing through the spiral corridor.
"Ouch... That hurts..." said one girl, rubbing her head.
"It's all your fault, Magda! Why use a technique you haven't fully mastered? Look, you singed my feathers!"
"You're the one to blame! Why did you stand so close to me? Your annoying breathing messed up my technique!"
"Hey, you two, do you want to get us killed?"
"Hah! Lantel, you're from the combat squad, what are you complaining about? Or are you saying Quercus's training is weaker than Pina's?"
"Oh, you... I'll show you how to compare our training!" And the two girls tangled into a ball of hair and feathers, rolling down the corridor. The remaining girls, coming to their senses, began cheering for one or the other in their tussle. Until one, out of the corner of her eye, finally noticed the young man standing in the doorway, an involuntary witness to the scene.
"Eeeek!" she shrieked in surprise, thrust out her hand, and sent a thin beam of weak light towards the young man, who was looking at them in astonishment.
The other girls turned and watched, holding their breath, ready to scream at any moment too.
Not understanding what was happening, he remained rooted to the spot.
"Enough!"
A familiar girl with ash-blonde hair, who had escorted him from the main hall the previous evening, appeared right in front of him. With a sweep of her massive wing, she dissipated the beam aimed at the youth. Pressing her lips together, she looked challengingly at the girls, who were clearly much younger than her.
"A-a-a-a! It's Twinkle, Matriarch Acer's apprentice! Run for your lives!" they almost chorused, and, bumping into each other, whether running or flying, they hastily vacated that part of the corridor.
Sighing, she turned to the young man.
"Please forgive them. They are just apprentices and already caused such a ruckus. I'll have a word with them later. Matriarch Acer put a barrier around the balcony leading to your room to keep the especially curious from being a nuisance, but it seems we need a barrier on the inside too, if the Great Spirit allows."
Shaking her head, she added,
"The Matriarch asked me to look after the guest and help him settle in. So, please, is there anything our guest needs? Perhaps I can fulfill a request?"
Thinking for a moment, the young man made a gesture that could be interpreted as asking her to wait, and returned a moment later from the room with the book in his hands.
"Ah? The Book of the Path?.."
He nodded, pointed at it, then at himself.
Twinkle was silent.
He shook his head, repeated the gesture, but added another one pointing at the girl.
"Bring another book?.." the bird-girl said thoughtfully.
The young man nodded happily.
"Alright, but which one?"
The youth pointed at the girl again, but this time without indicating himself or the book.
"What... Whichever one I choose myself?"
A nod.
"Okay, please wait a while. We can't just take any books from the library. But I think I can arrange it with Elder Fraxinus, who is in charge of it." Nodding to the youth, she left.
At that moment, he was left completely alone in the corridor, where the wind constantly wandered, humming its sad melody. Looking at the book in his hands, then at the spiraling corridor rising upwards, he set the book aside on a small wooden console and, as if mesmerized by the endless stream of air—which in his eyes seemed to gain density—he left the room.
After all, no one had told him he couldn't leave it, right?
As he walked upwards, his whole body almost physically felt the walls of the corridor greedily sucking in the air current. But not all of it; they allowed part of it to rise higher, accelerating, so that soon it seemed to the youth that he was being carried upward not by his light step, but by the vortex currents.
Despite this, he was interested in reaching the very top of the canopy. Meeting no one on his way, he reached a beautifully carved door depicting brave warriors of the past with long, pointed pikes. The expressions on their faces accurately conveyed a spirit of determined militancy, as if they were marching to battle the Devil himself.
After examining the detailed carving of the depicted scene, he even touched it with his hand—it was that impressive.
Hesitating for a moment, he finally pushed the door open, causing the hem of his robe to be immediately tossed about by a strong wind that ruffled the hair he had so carefully tied back earlier.
His gaze fell upon two dozen bird-maidens, standing with their backs to him in a wedge formation, practicing the same movements with synchronous precision. In their hands were pointed spears, just like those of the warriors on the door. Rotated in their hands, the wooden tips periodically glowed with a faint light, attracting attention.
Suddenly, a hurried voice sounded right behind him, making him jump:
"We'd better leave before they notice you, or the training will lose all its meaning for them," Twinkle said, grabbing him by the elbow and silently pulling him back into the corridor, simultaneously closing the door.
Sighing, she continued, "The guest shouldn't appear in public too often; it could have the most unpredictable consequences, unfortunately. We have lived in seclusion without males for many centuries. The appearance of a male has seriously stirred up our moderately peaceful nest. The Sacred Tree has protected this place with barriers for ages, one of which is a protection against men. And given that many of us have never seen anyone of the opposite sex before, a commotion naturally arose, unlike any before. The Elders have explained the situation, though, to be honest, I didn't understand all of it. But the Matriarch's decision, combined with the will of the Great Spirit, is indisputable. I would really prefer it if the Matriarch's guest didn't leave his room, but I have no right to restrict him unless Matriarch Acer gives a specific order. So, I can only warn you that it's better not to walk around unaccompanied. And now, please follow me; I'll show you the least populated place where the guest can go safely. The Matriarch insisted I take you there."
Emphasizing "safely," and without waiting for any reaction from the youth, she headed away from the area resembling a training ground hidden in the branches of the tree-giant.
Descending a bit lower, they turned into a passage that branched off almost imperceptibly from the spiral they were on and led to lower levels.
The young man suddenly got the impression that the entire tree wasn't just parallel spirals, but a whole labyrinth with the most unpredictable turns and passages where one could get lost forever.
In this corridor, the flower-chandeliers were especially beautiful and, before blooming, showered passersby with sparkling pollen, causing the youth to sneeze repeatedly and trip over the vines that periodically covered the corridor floor. Seeing the young man's clumsy behavior, the girl barely maintained a calm expression, stifling a laugh.
"It seems Matriarch Acer had very good reasons to make an exception to such strict rules of the Sacred Arbor. But... He can't even stand on his own two feet. Holy Bird-Maiden, why is this my test? As if I don't have enough training and watching over the Juniors. Okay, alright, Twinkle, you need to pull yourself together. One more year and I can apply for the first-tier master exam of our clan..."
Slowing her pace, she said with a flick of her wings, "We're almost there. The corridor we are in now belongs to the Matriarch. Currently, that is my Respected Mentor—Matriarch Acer—so you can come here freely; she arranged it herself."
Looking around, the youth didn't see how this place differed from where his temporary quarters were.
Seeing the expression on his face, Twinkle, no longer holding back a smile, touched the wall. A pattern, resembling an unfolding lily gradually forming a door, began to draw itself upon it with brush-like strokes.
Anticipating his further reaction, the girl pushed the door inward.
"Hah-m—" a sound halfway between a sigh and a gurgle escaped the young man's mouth when he saw what was behind the door.
Of course, the Tree-Fortress, an incomprehensible Giant towering over ordinary trees, had impressed him greatly, but he couldn't believe that inside the Tree there could be a forest!
"The guest is greatly honored to visit the Ceremonial Hall of the Sacred Arbor. Here, all bird-women take their vows of service to the Sacred Arbor. At other times, only those chosen by the Matriarch and the Great Spirit of the Tree may enter."
The youth stepped inside uncertainly and turned to look questioningly at the girl.
"No, I won't go in there; I have other matters," she said, rummaging in a small shoulder bag she carried and pulling out a somewhat old-looking book. "Here, I almost forgot. This is the book the guest asked for."
Handing over the book, the girl also gave him a small twig: "This branch is from the balcony where the guest is staying. Wherever he goes, the cut end will point the way back to his room. Just place it on your palm, so please don't lose it."
With a slight bow, she retreated so quickly that the youth only saw her blurry silhouette.
Blinking a few times, he turned back to the forest presented before him. Although upon closer inspection, it couldn't really be called a forest—once inside, he understood it was a large hall where a great number of trees grew, stretching their slender branches towards the open sky—there were no branches of the Tree itself above the hall.
Through the tree trunks, he could see something glistening in the center of the hall. Driven by curiosity, clutching the book to himself, he walked towards a small pond whose shimmering surface had caught his attention.
Looking around and confirming no one was there, he began to read the book she had given him.
Its exact genre was hard to determine; it seemed to the youth like a cross between fairy tales and a historical chronicle from a first-person perspective.
By the time he finished reading, the sun had already made most of its journey across the sky and was beginning to set—the youth couldn't rest until he had read it from cover to cover.
It spoke of the creation of the world, of the Supreme Guardian who planted the Seed of Eternity into the matter of Nothingness, and when it grew, breathed life into this world, bringing forth a new world called Epimetheus.
But the sprout's power was unstable, and to monitor its condition, the Supreme created beings who could maintain balance in this world. The most ancient creatures—Dragons and Phoenixes, embodying pure force, born from the same source—were to watch over the Great Balance. Coexisting in one world, they tried not to interfere in each other's affairs unless the general welfare depended on it.
Thus passed many centuries.
The world kept growing and gradually began to produce offshoots in the form of new creatures. The Ancient beings raised them as their younger brothers and sisters, passing on their skills and knowledge. But where there is black and white, gray will eventually appear.
Subsequent generations no longer wanted to accept that purebloods of the two lineages held power and began to rebel against this state of affairs, sowing discord among both strangers and their own.
Seeing the discord begin to spread, consuming more territories and thus destabilizing the world's energy flows, the two lineages tried to join forces to guide their adopted children back to the righteous path, but this only worsened the situation, leading to the first large-scale war to change the world order and damage the core of the Seed.
An explosion of unprecedented power shook all of Epimetheus—no one had ever known such a catastrophe before.
Many Ancients fell in that battle, giving their life energy to restore the core, and many species of beings were wiped from the face of the world for their disregard of the Great Balance.
As echoes of that terrible event, Dead Lands still exist on Epimetheus to this day—an area formed at the very epicenter of the battle, damaging the core.
Once the war ended and all sides were subdued, the Phoenix lineage almost disappeared from the pages of history. By their nature, these beings were gentle and sensitive; they grieved more deeply for fallen comrades and the secret knowledge that was ultimately used by their named children to harm what they so tenderly protected.
As for the other lineage, the Dragons openly held power for some time, cleansing the remnants that could resurrect the old knowledge, until they finally yielded primacy to their close associates, dissolving among the endless stream of succeeding dynasties.
Lacking sufficient power and centralization, giant kingdoms fragmented and became mired in endless struggles for power and territory. Another thousand years passed. From this struggle, individuals possessing incredible power began to emerge more frequently, again threatening to upset the scales of creation.
Revealing themselves once more, the Ancient lineages, using their mastery over Epimetheus's matter, instituted a Battle, held during times when too many powerful fighters appeared among the world's energy masters and Epimetheus's energy flows began to move chaotically again, threatening to plunge everything back into primordial chaos.
According to legend, the Battle is only among those who possess sufficient strength, for the right to join the Ancient lineages and gain access to their knowledge. Each worthy fighter was marked on the neck on the appointed day, and by the right of this mark, any other bearer could challenge its owner to a duel.
The main condition of the contest is to fight in places endowed with a special energy mark; otherwise, the victory would not count.
If a fighter admitted defeat, the mark would disappear from their body without a trace. If the fighter did not admit defeat and continued the battle but lost their energy or was seriously physically damaged, the mark would turn into a scar, a reminder of overestimating their strength.
Those who surpassed most in strength and reached the final battle, if defeated, faced the unenviable fate of having all their accumulated energy stripped away. It was also worth considering that these battles were often to the death, for for a truly powerful warrior, the loss of all energy was equivalent to death.
The book then went on to describe the chronologies of the most memorable battles of the subsequent millennium, which very rarely ended with the participants keeping their lives and limbs.
"The winner, if one remained, was endowed with the Seal of the Chosen by the Supreme, possession of which opened the entrance to the halls of the Ancients, located, according to legends, beyond the boundaries of creation," the book said.
"Hmm, it seems if I want to find out who I am and where I'm from, I need to look for traces of the Ancient lineages, whom no one has seen for a thousand years or more. Just wonderful," he thought with a note of sarcasm.
But what interested him even more was that throughout the entire history of the Battle of the Ancients, no winner had ever been determined. Even in cases where fighters lived to see the decisive battle, for one reason or another, none of them survived the duel.
"It feels like it's all rigged." Slamming the book shut, he was about to leave for his room when something disturbed the surface of the pond.
Freezing for a moment, the youth slowly approached the water's edge. Peering into the somewhat murky water, he noticed something flickering at the bottom.
"Are there fish in here?"
As he leaned lower, staring at the surface, a completely white silhouette formed in the plane of the water right in front of his nose, and a thin, childish voice said with a giggle:
"Welcome to the Sacred Arbor."
The youth recoiled in fright, falling on his backside, breathing quickly and heavily. If he could speak, he would probably have shouted some incoherent curses.
His first impulse was to run away from there as fast as he could, but after everything he'd seen lately, such things were starting to seem almost natural to him.
Overcoming himself, he carefully crawled back to the water's edge, watching intently everything that happened on it.
But the silhouette was gone, as was the swimming fish.
"Maybe I imagined it?"
Shaking his head, he decided to leave this place, using the twig-navigator she had given him, placing it on his palm as instructed.
"It seems the safest place for me is in bed; at least nothing supernatural has definitely happened there while I slept. Besides, I'm suddenly very sleepy, as if it's late evening. Wait a minute, I haven't eaten anything besides breakfast..."
And with his stomach rumbling, he hastily left the mysterious place in the heart of the giant Tree.