Wraithwood Botanist

B2 | Chapter 71 - The Third Trial

The staircase under the crypt led to the planet’s core, so as I walked, the walls got hotter, and sweat sizzled on my skin, turning to steam.

That’s not what really happened—but I thought it would.

The staircase led down forever, moving ever closer to the abyss where there was no light, housing only the sound of insects and dank air to invade the senses.

Thankfully, I had a small glow stone lamp that came with my big bag o’ tools, so I activated it with mana, embracing the soft green light as it made Kline’s shadow the size of a tiger and then a house cat in regular intervals, waxing and waning, growing and disappearing.

We walked on.

About ten minutes in, we finally saw light at the end of the tunnel and when we entered the chamber at the end, we found a garden of glowing plants that made my heart sing. I wanted to identify them—but my Guide wasn’t working. There was no highlighting, so simply touching one could kill me.

I put aside my impulses and studied the garden. It was well organized, lit by an artificial glowstone acting as a sun, and crawled with an inch of creeping soul fog that drifted along the ground. In the center was a statue of a tiny plant and another crystal ball.

The final trial... I thought.

I took off my backpack and checked on Kyro. He was still breathing, but it came out in spurts, and his skin was deathly pale.

"Kyro... we’re here," I said. "I need you to tell me what plant’ll save you."

He didn’t even groan.

I shook him.

No change.

I slapped his little cheeks.

No stirring.

I looked around and felt waves of anxiety. I didn’t know what any of the plants were or what they did or how they would save me. I searched the entire space and found that there was no exit or placards with information on the specific plants or how to make resources from them. There was only one set of instructions—the one in front of the statue.

A tiny Omoxilian the size of a small dog perched on a podium made of vines that stretched down the mount until they touched and penetrated the grass below it.

And the script.

It was terrible. It had over five hundred characters—and 90% of them weren’t soul runes.

Jesus... I thought as I paced back and forth. I had less than five days and a multi-day trip to the Bramble. Even if we could shave a day off our return trip with Kline’s teleportation, I had a day—and it took a day to do the last task that almost killed me. What would happen this time?

I didn’t know and didn’t want to, but the problem was that there wasn’t a choice. Kyro was dying, and I had no idea how to save him. My only option was to go for it.

"Kline," I said as I pulled out a second water bowl and filled it with our dwindling Diktyo water. "I need you to watch over Kyro. If I’m not... deep into something, I want you to wake me up. Kay? Unless he says not to. Do you understand?"

Kline meowed.

"Good man." I retrieved the last food container we had and opened it. "Eat up. There might be another attack. Kay?"

He nodded and ate as I hesitantly ate a piece of steak, hydrated and sat in front of the statue and let the runes take me to a galaxy far from the crypt where soul runes reigned supreme.

That’s what I expected, but it was different.

The abyss was a formless abyss but teeming with white plants that shifted in the blackness like snakes, twisting and vining and growing all around me. They moved on their own, coiling around each other, building walls, and then collapsing, spreading ground cover on invisible planes below me.

Around them were the soul runes. The second I looked at one, it stabbed my mind and sent me spiraling into a disjointed state of consciousness. The trial was apparent from the second I saw it.

2.

"Did you teach her about soul pacts?"

"No."

"Why the hell not?" she screamed.

Brindle stopped pruning, and the roots underneath his cloak tightened. "I lack the patience for this questioning," he said. "I have chosen to mentor Mira. That’s all. I do not seek to pass on my legacy or establish a business with her. That’s where we differ. So refrain from your sentimentalities when you address me, or I will not address you."

Elana seethed. "Fine. I will respect that, but... Will you at least fulfill her reward?"

Brindle fell silent.

"The deadline’s approaching, Brindle. You need to commit."

Brindle turned to his sprawling garden, a multi-colored galaxy of flowers and herbs and trees of all colors, shapes, and sizes. Then he looked to the sky and waved his hand.

The ethereal form of Salan, the Soul Guardian of the god Real he killed, appeared before him. She stood a hundred feet tall, chains on her hands and wings on her back, blindfolded like an arbiter of justice in her transparent white armor.

She once had a personality—but now had none. Just the potential for consciousness. A rebirth born from the person she attached to.

He clenched his hand, and the woman dissolved into steam, losing soul force as she became smaller and smaller until she was as tall as he was, containing only the aura of a second evolution creature despite her neara being pure beyond anything mortals could fathom.

Real used Saslan incorrectly her whole life. True guardians were meant for psychomancy, and if Mira got one... she would gain immense power to protect the forest—or destroy it.

It was a powerful ally he was partial to providing her—but.

Giving it to Mira would force him to interject himself in a Multiuniversal request. And then it would give the Multiversal Council the legal basis to send a god-level resource into the forest and send independent guards to ensure that the people Brindle sent to deliver it didn’t use it for nepharis means. It would inject a legal pretext for sparking another conquer attempt.

It would also put her face to face with a minor conquer attempt when Mira was barely able to survive.

"Brindle," Elana said. "If you don’t provide it—someone else will. And I can’t find one. They could pick anyone and send anyone to deliver it."

"Assuming they can find one."

"They will find one."

Brindle spun his hand, and the ghostly angel and all the spare aura were drawn into his body into a vortex.

"If she survives this test without shattering her soul..." He paused. "I’ll consider it."

Brindle cut the connection before Elana could speak and returned to his pruning. The Oracle was making a play for the forest, and providing Mira her reward both aided and harmed her. It would all depend on how she did during the trial. The trial...

Brindle’s thoughts drifted back to his pupil. If I had warned her... it wouldn’t be a trial. But... should I have done it anyway?

Brindle wasn’t used to second-guessing himself. It made him feel uncomfortable. He clipped another scallow bloom and disappeared into his forest to clear his mind.

4.

I took a deep breath and activated the crystal ball in front of the statue. Unlike the others, it didn’t pull souls into one area. Instead, it summoned a soul from within—one vibrant purple with neara—that forcefully invaded my mind without warning.

A searing pain cut through my stomach and back and brain, and I felt blood and pain and stabbing all over me. Roars of a creature blasted in my ear, and the ground shook as my body lifted and smashed into the ground viciously as creatures ripped me apart.

"Help!" I screamed, trying to look through the silhouettes of bony bears ripping me to shreds.

I was living the soul’s death. I was certain of it, but I couldn’t handle it. It was too much, too violent, too traumatic for me to handle. "Please..."

"Please" will not save you from those who seek your death.

The sounds and sensations of ripping beasts suddenly disappeared, leaving me suspended in the darkness with the sound of a hollow male voice. And in the darkness above me, two glassy orange eyes opened and stared into my soul.