Chapter 37
By the time Hoku ventured into the constricted passage, Oliverou's voice had long since dissolved into silence.
The tunnel was scarcely wider than his shoulders, compelling him to hunch low, elbows tucked tightly against his sides, as his knees scraped over the unforgiving stone.
The air grew arid, and the dampness beneath him vanished, replaced by beads of moisture that clung to the walls and seeped silently into his sleeves.
He contemplated pausing to rest against the unyielding wall, however, Oliverou's cautionary words resurfaced: "Just crawl straight, and don't turn or stop because it is very dark and you could be thrown off easily into tracking back."
His breath reverberated off the stone confines. With each forward movement, the tunnel seemed to constrict further, as if intent on enveloping him completely.
His knees throbbed, and he allowed himself a brief respite to flex his numbed fingers, their sensation dulled from constant contact with the rough surface.
Suddenly, a faint glimmer emerged ahead—a mere sliver at first, then gradually intensifying into a discernible glow.
Squinting against the burgeoning light, he propelled himself forward with renewed urgency.
An exit awaited.
A subtle cacophony stirred in the distance.
The sounds were sharp and repetitive, teasing the edge of perception as the confined space began to widen.
After a moment's contemplation, Hoku quietly surmised, 'Those must be birds.'
Upon reaching the tunnel's end, the rock abruptly gave way, unveiling a blinding expanse of white.
Yet, the sounds he had previously discerned became elusive once more.
They now reverberated as mimicking chirps, emanating from an indeterminate height above.
He brushed the pebbles from his attire and rose to his feet, instinctively checking his pocket for the compass and locket.
Upon verifying that they remained securely in place, he looked upward.
A vast cavern stretched before him, the walls extending beyond the limits of his vision.
The ceiling was cleaved by a singular, vertical fissure, wide enough to allow light to cascade across the entire chamber.
From this rupture, the glare poured downward in stark beams, illuminating the smooth stone below, interrupted only by veins of darker minerals and peculiar, jagged protrusions resembling spines or rusted metal rods.
He had believed he had reached the surface, or at least a potential exit from this seemingly endless and erratic cave system.
Regrettably, it was not sunlight that bathed the chamber.
The illumination originated from a source beyond the breach in the ceiling, one that was unnervingly constant and sterile.
It emitted no warmth, carried no scent of fresh air or even a hint of wind, as it was merely a silent, stifling whiteness.
Hoku stood motionless.
He uttered no words, nor did he curse or call out.
He simply exhaled once and stepped forward.
Hoku narrowed his eyes as more peculiar shapes emerged within the column.
Suspended in the luminous shaft was a sea of birds, their wings beating in smooth patterns, moving silently despite the vague noises they produced.
'That must be why they sounded slightly amiss,' he thought, with a mixture of awe and disbelief coloring his internal voice.
The silence between Hoku and the distant light was abruptly shattered by a sudden whip through the air.
A streak descended from the luminous breach above, trailing a white flare akin to a comet slicing through mist.
However, Hoku swiftly deciphered that it wasn't a falling star.
Hoku staggered back as his breath seized in his throat.
The creature landed with startling perfection atop a nearby boulder slick with cavern dew.
Its feathers were snow-pure and strangely matte, shivering as they settled.
The being's form was avian, yet its limbs flexed with a control that appeared nearly too meticulous for mere instinct.
Its wings arched outward like ceremonial blades, and its tail curled unnaturally, ending in the delicate curvature of a scythe.
Then, in a curious and sentient gesture, the peculiar 'bird' tilted its head.
Its eyes gleamed with a mirrored interest, as though pondering what manner of creature stood before it.
A low sound, like glass struck beneath the surface of water, escaped the creature's equally alabaster beak.
Hoku faltered, his stance turning awkward as the creature descended from the boulder, initiating a slow, measured approach.
Strangely, it appeared not to walk. Its talons barely grazed the stone, seeming to hover forward, shoulders tilting with each undulation of its elongated form.
Suddenly, it released another, sharper chirp, imbued with a threatening undertone, and locked its gaze upon him.
Hoku pressed his tongue onto the roof of his mouth and peered directly back into the eyes of the creature.
The creature parted the feathers over its chest, unveiling a radiant jewel.
Despite its unusual placement, what puzzled Hoku most was that the jewel didn't seem merely embedded.
Subtle veins extended outward on the skin, peeking from the surrounding feathers, making it appear as though the gem was growing from its body like a heart.
Unexpectedly, a circular dot of light unfurled from the heart of the gemstone, casting a transient flash.
Hoku attempted to retreat from it, however, his limbs suddenly betrayed him, and his legs recoiled of their own volition.
His vision buckled before he was struck in his chest by a disorienting force, accompanied by a veil of dizziness, as if a segment of his consciousness had been compressed, thrusting him into a momentary dislocation.
His knees trembled before his mind could reestablish stability.
However, before his sight returned, the creature lunged within a heartbeat of his staggering backward.
Its wings flared, tail snapping in an intimidating arc, before it dashed forward with a sharp whoosh.
It was mere hairsbreadth from contact when another blur of white collided with it midair.
A sound akin to muffled thunder resonated from the impact, and a tempest of feathers erupted outward in a flash of ghostly blue and pale hues.
The larger creature was propelled sideways, and it flailed its wings before colliding with the cavern wall.
Hoku scrambled, pushing himself forward to land flat on his feet.
He blinked several times, attempting to clear the dazzle from his vision.
It was then he noticed the newcomer.
This creature was diminutive, less than half the size of the white one.
However, "creature" felt like an inadequate term.
Its feathers shimmered faintly with a translucent sheen, touched by bluish hues.
Its eyes glowed like twin sapphires without pupils.
Though its shape resembled that of a very small bird, it was unlike any Hoku had ever encountered.
The bird remained motionless at first. It stood sentinel between Hoku and the felled white creature, hovering its own wings.
The bird's head was slightly turned as though it had become attuned to some frequency buried deep within the walls of the massive, ribcage-like cavern.
The bird darted its focus onto Hoku before it began to advance in small hops.
Each one produced a faint tap against the stone floor, reminiscent of a pebble skimming across a frozen lake.
The movement lacked hostility, yet Hoku's muscles tensed instinctively.
He shifted into a defensive stance, and his boots scraped against the gritty ground as he slid one foot back.
His hand moved to the hilt of his sword, and he tightened his fingers until his knuckles turned white.
The blade slid with a soft rasp as he scrutinized the small creature before him.
It was diminutive, no larger than his hand, its head barely reaching his thumb.
He could have enclosed it within a glove, rendering it a mere pet.
Yet, the rapid beat of his heart betrayed his composed exterior.
This tiny being had just dispatched a beast quadruple its size.
The bird's movements halted abruptly, posing rigidly.
After a few beats of silence, a peculiar muffled sound emerged as its talons suddenly disengaged from the stone, and its joints shifted with a subtle, wet snap, reminiscent of roots extracted from saturated soil.
The feathers along its spine stiffened sequentially, then retracted in an orderly fashion, each quill folding.
The wings extended, as the bones realigned audibly.
Hoku had hardly enough time to process the absurd occurrence when the bird started to grow rapidly.
The neck elongated, and its muscles thickened beneath the skin.
The beak split along a central seam, separating cleanly to reveal human features: a nose, then lips, finally forming a complete face.
Hoku recognized the visage. Pale skin, nearly translucent under the filtered light; long, pale gold hair cascading past the shoulders; thin lips; eyes conveying a gentle, unreadable expression.
The transformation concluded with a slow blink that erased any trace of the avian form.
Hoku maintained his stance and poised the sword before him, slowly releasing a breath.
Mars raised an open palm, as the rest of his fingers stayed relaxed at his side.
"Apologies," he said at a volume barely above a whisper.
"I didn't intend to startle you. I needed to intervene before you sustained another hit. That creature disrupted your body's functions, so that it could inflict a fatal wound."
Hoku stared, processing the information.
"You... that bird..." he began, lowering his sword slightly. "Why are you here? Did you come for me? Where is everyone?"
Mars's gaze dropped momentarily.
"I'll explain," he replied. "But gradually. Right now, everyone is undergoing similar trials. Yours were extended. Since you require two materials, you'll need to complete an additional trial before we can leave."
"I've hardly had time to recover from the last one!"
Mars involuntarily twitched the corner of his mouth. He offered a silent gesture of sympathy before responding, "Fortunately, there are balanced rules, even here. For the second trial, a partner is permitted."
He nodded toward Hoku's partially lowered sword.
"Apart from that, you've fought hard," he observed. "You've obtained your elixir, haven't you?"
Hoku relaxed his posture, then lowered his blade to his side.
"I have. I also thought I would eventually have to fight you."
Mars's brow furrowed slightly.
"Why would you—?"
Hoku waved a hand, dismissing the thought.
"Never mind."
Mars crossed his arms suspiciously before shaking his head.
"Nonetheless, this one won't be as difficult. You have a familiar now."
The term lingered in Hoku's mind as he assessed Mars's presence.
His voice carried a softness, more textured than tonal.
It should have unsettled him, but it didn't.
Hoku's thoughts lingered on the contrast between Mars and Uncle Jiang Hao. The latter's overt friendliness had once made him realize that excessive kindness could be unsettling, akin to standing too close to an overlooked furnace.
Mars' demeanor was different. He spoke sparingly, and when he did, his words felt sincere.
Suddenly, Mars looked up toward the narrow strip of sky above. Shadows of more creatures began to circle, patiently.
"Should we try to find the entrance to the next trial?" he asked. "I'd favor not being noticed by more of them."
Hoku nodded automatically, then frowned as a question escaped before he could suppress it.
"How did you... transform into a bird?"
Mars stole a brief glance at him before they began to discreetly traverse the cavern.
"And when," Hoku added, "did you even get down here?"
Mars advanced with quiet assurance, striding across the uneven stone floor in a rhythm that suggested someone who had covered this path countless times.
"I'd been waiting for a while," he answered. "I had to transform into the bird so they wouldn't catch my scent. They perceive with their minds, instead of their eyes. Movement, breath, even intent, if you have too much of it, they will know where to strike."
Concern appeared in Hoku's furrowed brows. "That... bird form. Is that your elixir?"
Mars turned his head slightly but not fully. "Sort of. It's... complicated."
"Of course it is," Hoku muttered, then looked up. "Back in the Nest, when you stabbed your eye with Abel's pendulum and that strange substance came out, I thought that was your power."
Mars's smile was gentle and tinged with resignation. "That's only a part. Real elixirs don't offer their strength freely. They demand something in return. Mine... it consumes different parts of me."
Hoku slowed his pace. "So... stabbing your eye triggers it?"
Mars shook his head. "No. My eye is already gone, it has been for some time. That ritual is just part of the channeling. The bird is actually the core of it. It's the reason I'm blind in one eye."
Hoku's lips parted, but he remained silent for a juncture.
As they walked, the path narrowed, the walls drawing closer.
He hadn't noticed they'd begun to skirt the edge of a broad, dark gorge along one side of the massive chamber.
The wall towered so closely that he could nearly touch it.
He kept pace behind Mars, as his eyes occasionally flicked upward.
"In the forest," Mars resumed, "what I used to deflect that spear was a spell."
Hoku's face contorted with puzzlement. "A spell? I thought elixirs were just weapons. Strange ones, of course, but... still just weapons."
Mars emitted a soft hum, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. "Elixirs are weapons. But they can evolve. The more you bind yourself to one, the more it becomes something else. It's like... a contract that doesn't need to be signed. Once that contract is in place, you stop just using it, and it starts responding."
They moved further down a tunnel that was wide enough to walk but still cavernous.
Hoku began to make out the faint orange sheen of firelight bleeding ahead.
Mars continued over his interest, "Some people can cast spells through their elixirs, but it's not available for everyone. There's no set system or archive. Their nature is rather random. Some spells protect, while others heal. A few are purely aesthetic, but they're always specific to the holder."
"How does something like that even work..." Hoku murmured, more to himself than to Mars. "Do you think I could conjure a spell too?"
Mars offered no response; perhaps he hadn't heard.
The tunnel's character shifted as the light from above vanished entirely, enveloping them in darkness.
Ahead, Hoku noticed another faint, golden pulse flickering at the edge of his vision.
He narrowed his eyes and stepped into a new chamber alongside Mars.
The space bore an uncanny resemblance to where his first trial had concluded.
The same solemn atmosphere, the same quiet reverence, even a similar shaft of light descending from a high recess, casting the surroundings into dim shadow.
However, this place was bone-dry, bare of any water or even the humid breath of fog.
Only dust, grit, and most notably, an immense statue stood before them.
The statue was carved directly into the wall, as if the stone had once lived and had been coaxed into form rather than constructed.
The arms extended outward, too long and very thin, with hands gently clawing at the empty air before it.
Its face was obscured beneath strands of carved hair, stone threads cascading like rivers over what should have been a visage.
The stone bore the marks of age, cracked and almost decaying, with thin golden light bleeding from the ancient fractures like veins of molten metal.
Hoku felt his chest tighten, though he couldn't quite pinpoint why.
It wasn't merely the size or the uncanny anatomy. It was the expression, barely visible beneath the veil of stone hair.
Mars looked up at it.
"Well," he said quietly, "we found it faster than I thought."
Hoku stepped forward, hesitant. "What is this?"
Mars didn't answer directly.
Instead, he knelt, gently tugging at a deep fold in his scarf.
From within, he produced a small burlap sack with a drawstring made of tightly knotted twine.
Hoku narrowed his eyes, quickly turning his gaze on the sack Mars held.
It bore a striking resemblance to the one Yu-ze had extracted bandages from in the forest with frayed edges, and even an identical shape.
'Do they all carry the same kind of sack?' he pondered silently.
Mars untied the string that secured the sack and retrieved a small, curved rod.
Along its edge, minuscule runes were etched so finely they could be mistaken for wear.
A flint-like plate was affixed to its base, and in his other hand, he held a fragment of reddish ore.
He struck them together.
A spark ignited, not against kindling, but against a pattern.
Mars knelt lower as he located a depression in the stone floor.
It was a wide, shallow groove carved in a sweeping arc beneath the sculpture.
It mirrored the arc of the statue's outstretched hands, as if intending to invite something.
He struck again.
The ore glowed bright red, then burned with a pale, silken gold.
He lowered the flame into the groove.
The fire advanced smoothly, as though it had been unbound by gravity.
It followed the etched arc and filled it like a liquid, trailing golden light beneath the statue.
Hoku took a half-step back, observing in silence.
"It's called a tracing flame," Mars explained, still kneeling. "The grooves form a seal, and only react to fire imbued with memory. This one contains fragments of ash from my elixir's forging."
Hoku tilted his head before raising his fingers to remove strands of hair from his cheek. "A literal memory?"
Mars nodded and rose to his feet as the fire completed the arc. "Symbolic, but effective. The fire remembers its bearer. That's why the entrance won't open for just anyone."
As the flame completed its circuit and extended beyond, a deep groan resonated from the statue, the sound akin to stone fracturing after an age of silence.
The head and hands remained still, yet the massive torso embedded within the wall split at the sternum.
Cracks formed, as stone peeled away in fragments, revealing golden veins that flared brighter.
The chest didn't part like a door; instead, it peeled back piece by piece, sending dust and debris to cascade off like remnants from a long-healed wound.
An archway emerged behind the opening.
Hoku swallowed. "I can't tell if that was beautiful or horrifying."
"Sometimes, they're indistinguishable," Mars replied softly.
Hoku stepped forward and stalled. "Are you certain this will not resemble the first trial?"
Mars's expression relaxed before he shook his head.
Hoku glanced once more at the sculpture, noting how its concealed face seemed to evoke something unfamiliar, and unsettling, yet not entirely frightening.
Merely… cautionary.
The sound of Mars's boots echoed as he stepped through the archway, prompting Hoku to follow.
Just as he began to feel a semblance of calm, he found himself plunged into another segment of unending chaos.
Yet, amidst these circumstances, he realized he wasn't as compelled to retreat as before.
He pondered the possible reasons, attempting to suppress the returning unease.
Perhaps it was the presence of someone like Mars, whose adeptness in navigating this illogical realm instilled a fragment of trust that he wouldn't be left to face it alone.
Mars cleared his throat, drawing Hoku's attention back to the present.
Realizing he had lagged behind, Hoku quickened his pace, inadvertently kicking debris as he caught up.
Mars eventually halted in front of the chamber's far wall.
The wall emitted a faint residual heat, the firelight tracing patterns that shimmered like aged copper.
"This place is a sanctum," Mars stated, as he cast an inspection over the wall. "Not every trial includes one. When it does, it signifies that the next task extends beyond mere survival."
Hoku folded his arms. "Meaning?"
"It will demand something of you that lacks a definitive answer."
Hoku felt unsettled by his remark.
He had just begun to adapt to defending himself, believing he could at least support Mars if necessary.
However, confronting abstract challenges without concrete parameters was an entirely different matter.
Especially considering his inability to recall or learn anything about himself over the past two years since losing his memory.
The absence of information had left him without a clear path to answers.
Mars stepped forward, toward another shallow recess in the stone.
At its center stood a simple pedestal, seemingly built up from the ground.
Atop it rested a black, spherical stone, dull as coal.
He glanced at Hoku. "This is the trial gate."
Hoku raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't appear like much."
A subdued chuckle slipped from Mars' lips.
Mars circled the altar once and looked it around as if adhering to a routine known only to him.
"The task is inscribed within this spherical mechanism," Mars remarked. "It's not something that can be solved like a puzzle. Not by you, or anyone. However, even with that aspect suppressed, you can still sense when something is amiss. So, once you make contact, the trial initiates."
Hoku's gaze lingered on the altar. "I don't understand, what exactly would be amiss?"
"It's different each time," he began, steadily eyeing the sphere. "The stone responds to your role, and crafts two distinct versions of the trial, even though we'll be in the same room."
Approaching slowly, Hoku felt a subtle pressure change from around the pedestal. He glanced at Mars.
Hoku's voice carried a hint of skepticism as he remarked, "Alright, what exactly is a 'role'? I haven't really been able to determine mine, so I doubt a stone will."
Mars inclined his head slightly. "It's a complex matter, not easily condensed into a brief explanation. But I'll attempt to clarify."
Hoku's interest was piqued. He straightened his posture as Mars took a deliberate breath.
"Roles aren't always self-evident," he replied calmly. "They're not titles you assign yourself, but facets of your being that the world recognizes, even if you don't."
Hoku frowned as more uncertainty pressed upon him. "I've sort of guessed by now that it's not something you choose."
"Not in the conventional sense," Mars said. "I once traveled with an old friend who would let me rest on his shoulder, so that I never had to be human."
Hoku tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing in contemplation.
"He, like many of us, has fallen to adversaries who were too great for us."
Hearing the sudden confession come from Mars, Hoku couldn't help but remain speechless as he spoke of people who likely bore sentimental identities.
Thus, he wavered, uncertain of how to respond.
An apology felt inadequate, especially when he lacked knowledge about the individuals Mars referred to or the nature of their demises.
Mars, however, didn't wait for a reply. He continued, maintaining a persistent manner.
"I understand that hearing this might evoke unease or fear. But I assure you, we will all meet again eventually."
Hoku's expression shifted to one of confusion. The statement stirred a flurry of questions in his mind.
'Again?' The ambiguity of Mars' words left him pondering.
Hoku often found himself uncertain whether the statements made by Mars were metaphorical expressions or literal references to the timestream.
Before he could voice his thoughts, Mars continued, introducing a term Hoku had encountered before, this time accompanied by a clearer explanation.
"No one truly lives just once, but each version of you only lives once. When a pattern of behavior repeats across enough lives, it becomes fixed. That's what we've called a sequence."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"If I were to die here, I'd return once this entire set of events concludes and the cycle restarts. We remain in the same physical space but lose most of what we've gained, like memories, power, and progress. Everything reverts to a certain point."
Hoku interjected, his curiosity even more piqued.
"I met someone who mentioned something similar, they spoke about a similar loop scenario caused by the future retracting. Could it be that we're moving backward? Is it not a cycle but a loop? When you say everything reverts to a certain point, is it always the same point, or does it vary each time?"
Mars adjusted his gloves, his gaze steady. "The origin point? It's uncertain. Memories retract selectively, which leaves a lot of gaps. We only recognize this because certain recollections remain, while others vanish."
Hoku's expression turned sour, and he sighed. 'That's what Polaris mentioned, at least.'
Mars noted Hoku's silence, then offered, "I don't understand the cycle's existence… but I know what resets it."
Hoku's grip on his sword loosened, the hilt nearly slipping.
He stepped forward and inquired, "What causes it?"
Mars met his eyes. "Your death."
Clang!
Hoku's blade fell onto the stone floor.
Mars had remained surprisingly composed. "It's a matter of when you're offered to the Timestream. You've heard it before, that you've been here already. It's accurate, but in different sequences, which is why you don't recall."
He continued, "Some of us remain when a sequence ends, carrying knowledge into the next. For some reason, you don't, because you always appear later. Yet, even your actions throughout so many reoccurrences have formed a clear pattern."
Mars observed Hoku and released a heavy sigh. "You've always carried a hidden obsession with understanding this universe. Every time we advanced further through the Timestream, you told me the same thing: that even when you knew nothing, and even when it was hopeless, you kept going because of one realization."
He continued gradually, "If you couldn't return home, then you would uncover every last secret that this universe had to offer. You made that your reason. Your strength and intellect grew around that purpose. Until eventually, anyone who had heard about you knew of your role…"
Mars paused, allowing his words to settle. Hoku remained stationary, as if lost in thought.
Then, his gaze met Mars's, and a slight nod followed.
Mars's tone lowered and became almost reverent. "...As our navigator."
- ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼◼◼ -
[Record recovered from the Capital Dreamscape]
Hymn of the Navigator
. . .
O Navigator, far adrift,
Whose eyes have charted sundered rift,
Whose hands have grasped both beast and clock,
Yet found no gate, yet struck no lock.
Through stolen years and hollow lands,
You walk the maps none understand.
The Abundant bids you sail his wreck,
Yet knows: your course will cross his neck.
In rusted tides and broken time,
In realms that toll the ghostly chime,
The Sequel calls its heir to sea
Not to obey, but to decree.
O Navigator, doomed yet free,
May ruin be your canopy.
- ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼◼◼ -
To be continued…