9,862Cover Art: Curbizzle
Chapter 98
Pyrrha was curious about the Ever-after but infinitely more disciplined than Nora. It wasn't a high bar, but it kept her focused enough to listen to his explanations and not ask a million and one questions. It was convenient – or design – that they'd ended up back in a familiar place, allowing Jaune to trace his and Nora's steps back toward Candy Acre.
Along the way, they came across a humanoid figure dancing among the trees, reacting to things they couldn't perceive. It was a young girl around twelve years old, unrecognisable to them, but obviously happy. Jaune waved his hand in front of her face as she danced by, but she didn't react to him or stop.
"Should we do something…?" Pyrrha asked.
"No. I think this is what it looks like to the inhabitants here when a human is having a dream. That girl's consciousness is here while her body sleeps. It's best we not disturb the natural order." Jaune considered that and all the nonsense he now knew about godly beings and harmonic energies. "Unnatural order. Ugh. You know what I mean. We shouldn't fix what isn't broken."
"Hmm."
Pyrrha watched the girl go as they carried on. Not everyone having a dream in the Ever-after would be having a nightmare, but it was those dreams Jaune naturally gravitated to. Perhaps their consciousness was more open to invasion by his Semblance, or their "energy" was more chaotically vented here and that drew him. There was no way to be sure and it didn't really matter in the long run.
Soon, they saw the lollypop trees of Candy Acre.
"Why is the scenery candy we've developed in our world?" asked Pyrrha. "Shouldn't it be an alien version of candy?"
"Trust me. I've asked the same. Don't think about it."
The floor beneath them was oddly firm for being made of sugar and icing. They didn't sink into it and the texture was more like soft grass than the snow it looked like. They avoided the rivers of chocolate, even if they looked to flow fast enough to have a consistency closer to water than thick, melted chocolate. There was no telling how deep they were or if the currents would be just as powerful as rivers in their world.
"What does the Jabberwalker look like?"
"You know, I never thought to ask. It's a predatory creature, though. I guess we'll have to find out if something attacks us."
"Well we stick out like sore thumbs in this area so it shouldn't have trouble spotting us."
"I just hope we don't scare it off by being together."
Pyrrha laughed. "I don't think it will be afraid of us."
"You don't think?"
"It won't know what huntsmen are. And from what you and Nora said, it's the apex predator in this world. There's nothing that can harm it. Why should it think that has changed just because we look a little different to its usual prey?"
Interesting thought. It should be quite arrogant, then. The Jabberwalker had probably seen its fair share of humans in the sense of people dreaming here but given that most people in dreams became weak and frail when faced with a monster, it likely saw humans as the weakest beings in existence. Even the strongest huntsman would move slow and be frail in a nightmare. That was just how they worked.
With that in mind, it might look to stalk them if it—
Pyrrha kicked him in the side.
Jaune wasn't ready for it and was knocked aside, landing hard on one shoulder. Constant drilling from his partner had him rolling over and coming up shield ready for another attack. He quickly took in the scene. Pyrrha had jumped the other way as something dark grey and black landed where they'd been with a spray of white icing. It must have been atop a lollypop-tree since those were the only things around. The creature had tried to leap on them from above.
It almost looked like a precursor to the Grimm. Dark lizard-like skin, plates, a triangular face and razor-sharp teeth. A civilian might have said it looked just like a Grimm but to Jaune and Pyrrha there were too many subtle differences. No red and white markings, it was too small, and just the way it looked at them, splitting its attention between them to discern which was the best prey, showed its intelligence.
Jaune had her weapon in rifle form and pointed it at the creature.
"The Jabberwalker, I presume?" she asked.
Its head tilted. "Curious. There are not many who would need to ask when confronted by me. And your strange kind rarely perceive of me at all, moving like spectres as you do through our world."
"You are the Jabberwalker, then?" Pyrrha lowered her rifle. "We have a proposition for you."
"As do I for you. I've long since grown tired of hunting your kind. The chase is oft fun, but you vanish into mist whenever I bite down, leaving only a sickly taste behind. You two are different, however. You are more real. I can smell you."
Because he'd brought them out a dream. The Jabberwalker must have tried to kill the humans it saw crossing over here to dream but, apparently, the Brother Gods had thought of that. A rare instance where they'd actually planned their actions out.
The Jabberwalker may well have been a source of nightmares shared across Remnant. Ones where a monster hunted down a person and left them waking up in sweat and terror. The climax was apparently just as frustrating for the Jabberwalker, since the humans it hunted had no physical forms here. He was killing echoes of their consciousness only.
"So, my proposal. One of you surrender yourself as prey to be devoured and I shall let the other leave."
Jaune scoffed.
Pyrrha smiled politely. "I'm afraid we'll have to refuse. We actually want to help you—"
It lunged for her.
Jaune made to shout out a warning then decided against it, realising that he really just wasn't all that worried about it. Pyrrha was technically still here as a dreamer but, even if she wasn't, this was Pyrrha. Jaune's raised hand came down as she tracked the Jabberwalker's leap, squeezed out a single shot and leapt away. It was a distracting shot, meant more to occupy and buy time than it was to do any real damage.
Which was why it was a little surprising when it blew out a chunk of the Jabberwalker's shoulder and sent it slamming to the ground in a heap.
"Brothers!" it cried. "Brothers, that hurts! What was that!?"
It rolled around in agony, looking less an apex predator and more a wounded child. Pyrrha looked to Jaune, eyebrow raised, silently asking if it was faking it to draw them close. Jaune shrugged. He was ill-equipped to answer that question.
The Jabberwalker answered it for them. "What was that? The noise, the pain, the speed!"
Pyrrha looked down at her very normal weapon. The gun form so rarely killed anything – Grimm or human with aura – that most people saw it as the weakest form of her weapon. Rightly so. It was good to have a ranged option, but they rarely did anything on their own. Even Ruby killed Grimm more with her scythe than her sniper. "It's a gun," she said. "I shot you."
"What the hell is a gun!?" it cried.
It didn't know. Of course it didn't. Jaune wasn't sure why that surprised him. Maybe because this world seemed to have some words and technologies the same – candy, origami – so he'd assumed firearms would be the same.
But it made sense they weren't. Firearms were technology. They relied on chemistry in the form of dust, metallurgy to forge bullets, and physics in the firing. Those were laws that didn't exist here.
"You've hunted humans in their dreams but never seen a gun…?" asked Pyrrha.
"It makes sense," Jaune answered before the Jabberwalker could. "Think about it, Pyrrha. When you're in a nightmare being hunted by a monster, when is there ever a useful weapon around? Even assuming you can find a gun, it's either out of ammo or jams at the worst moment. Even a sword breaks like dry spaghetti in a nightmare."
Pyrrha hummed, accepting that. The Jabberwalker had been just as arrogant as she surmised, and it had paid for it.
"In fact, I think this is probably worse for you," Jaune said to it. "The Curious Cat told us that your bodies and souls are made up of chaotic energy, and that order energy is anathema to you. The bullets we fire are about as ordered as you get. They rely on sciences that are the very building blocks of our world."
The Jabberwalker stared at him. "What…?"
"Ah." Jaune winced. "I guess all those things I just said wouldn't mean anything to you. Basically, our weapons are made up of your opposite."
"Well that's bullshit," it grumbled, showing yet another random similarity between their world in cursing. "Trust that blasted feline to have brought you here. His curiosity will be the destruction of our world."
"Ours too. That's why we wanted to find and talk to you. We'd like your help locating the Curious Cat so that we can kill it."
The Jabberwalker snarled. "He is my prey! It is my life's purpose. I will die before I let you take it."
"Fine. Then let us help you find it so you can kill it."
"That is unsporting. Why should I?"
"Because the cat seeks to escape the Ever-after by possessing the body of someone from our world. He wants to summon the Brother Gods in our world, have them remove his weaknesses, then return here. He'll not only escape you but use divine favour to come back too strong for you to best. If he comes back at all. He might just choose to stay in our world and avoid you forever."
"The coward!" the beast roared. It was an angry thing for sure, but still not mindless by the standards of the Grimm. It could think and talk, and that meant it could be swayed. "He would flee our divinity-ordained battle!? The nerve! I have hunted him for an eternity, and he has eluded me. This, I respect. An easy hunt is not satisfying. But to flee to another world altogether? Cowardice of the highest degree!"
Jaune sheathed his sword. "Then will you work together with us?"
"…"
"The alternative is I shoot you," Pyrrha pointed out. "And we hunt him on our own."
The Jabberwalker glanced to her rifle and leaned back. "L—Let us not be hasty now. I did not reject your proposal. I was merely thinking."
Pyrrha smiled brightly and let her gun transform into a sword, then into a spear, and then back again, casually showing that she could be a threat at any range. The Jabberwalker did not pale, but there was an odd way it ducked its head that seemed to suggest it had noted the threat and didn't much like it.
"The wretched feline will not be easy to find. His curious nature has led him to become knowledgeable beyond measure. He knows every hiding spot, every trick, every method of covering his tracks. He knows them because he became curious about them. Once he does, he cannot stop learning. It is not his nature."
"We're as alien to him as we are to you. He knows your methods but he doesn't know ours."
"If you could hunt him without me, you would be doing so already."
"We need your expertise to know his rough location and where he visits. We'll help you track him down and trap him, and then you can have your divinity-ordained battle." Jaune used its own words. "How does that sound?"
"Throw in a true battle between one of you and myself without those accursed weapons of yours as well."
Jaune frowned, ready to refuse, but Pyrrha beat him to it. "After the cat is dealt with."
It snarled out: "Deal!"
"Is this wise?" Jaune moved over to whisper in her ear as the beast licked its wound and hissed to itself. "It wants us dead. I'm not sure how far we can trust it."
"Exactly. If we refused, it'd spend all its time looking for the right moment to ambush us. Now it has its moment, it won't need to." Pyrrha kept smiling. "And I'm confident I can take it on even without a weapon. You should be too. I'm limited here but you're not. Even unarmed, you can imagine anything you want into reality here. It can't."
It was a good point.
He wasn't used to being the powerful one between the two of them.
/-/
The Jabberwalker couldn't take its eyes off their weapons. It kept stealing looks when it thought they weren't paying attention, and it naturally shifted to their right sides to avoid them. Jaune wasn't sure if it was predatory instinct to attack from their non-weapon side, or fear of them drawing them.
It reminded him of those old stories about fairies being afraid of cold iron. It was common in a lot of myth, at least the ones shared been adults. He'd never believed in fairies for obvious reasons, but now he had to wonder if they weren't true. They could have been beings of the Ever-after met by people half-asleep. Maybe someone had crossed over while remaining lucid and found out about the Ever-after without realising it. Ancient mysticism often revolved around hallucination-inducing drugs creating "visions" but maybe they'd actually induced a state of half-sleep.
That would explain why the stories of cold iron matched with the reaction of the Jabberwalker. It might not even be the damage of the bullet hitting it that caused such pain, but a kind of poisoning caused by an iron casing forged by laws rooted in order. The Curious Cat had said it couldn't just exist in their world because the laws of order would tear its body – formed from chaotic energies – apart. It made a certain sense that their weapons would do the same to the Jabberwalker, which also meant their weapons should do the same to the cat.
"Are you the strongest of your kind?"
"No. We're actually quite weak." Pyrrha had taken to talking to the Jabberwalker, though she spoke in half-truths most of the time. Jaune caught the little lies, but the creature didn't. "We're still in school – that's a facility that teaches and trains us to fight – and we're not considered professionals yet. There are thousands of professional huntsmen who hunt down and kill monsters. They're all stronger than us."
"Impressive…"
Jaune didn't interrupt. Hyping up the human race to instil a sense of fear in the Jabberwalker wasn't a bad idea. It couldn't kill as it was, unless the dreams were so violent they led to a heart attack in vulnerable people, but with the Curious Cat having expressed a method to cross over, they didn't want the Jabberwalker getting the same idea. Luckily, it seemed to stay in its world. It didn't have the burning curiosity compelling it to cross over and discover things.
"Why do you hunt the Afterans anyway?" Pyrrha asked. "Are they a food source?"
"It is my nature. Theirs, too. I was created to hunt, they too survive. Our purposes are opposed and that creates the test. Should they fall to me, they prove themselves too weak to exist."
"That's a bit of a brutalist philosophy, isn't it?"
"It is the way of things. I was created with this purpose. I did not choose it." The Jabberwalker made a chuffing sound that might have been laughter. "Though I enjoy it, even that was not my choice. I was created to enjoy pain and suffering. I was born to hunt and to kill, and my every thought, desire, and instinct was tailored to it."
"By the Brother Gods?"
"If that is what you call them, then yes."
"The cat is the same, isn't it?"
"Yes. That wretched feline must seek knowledge as I seek victims. Its prey cannot fight back or escape it – but I do not envy that. Failure can be as satisfying as success. Often, I hunt my prey with ease, but it is those who elude me that make for the most exciting of moments in life. The feline does not have that. It seeks, it finds, it learns, it must move on. No challenge, no difficulty, no struggle." It chuffed once more. "No pride. How can you take it in something achieved so easily? Pathetic creature."
"You call it pathetic, but you also said you – and it – were made that way. Isn't it unfair to insult it for something it had no control over?"
"It is pathetic and wretched. There is no insult in that. Only facts."
Jaune shook his head, leaving Pyrrha and the Jabberwalker to talk. It had led them out of Candy Acre and into a new area slightly rockier. There was another forest beyond, unlike the jungle from before, and beyond that the Great Tree so many people had spoken of. The Herbalist had suggested they not approach it, not knowing what would come of them if they did. It might be nothing at all since they weren't denizens of the Ever-after. Jaune didn't want to risk his life on a "might" like that.
"Are you taking us to the Great Tree?" he asked.
"No." The Jabberwalker answered without looking back. "I am not welcome there. The Great Tree offers ascension. The other Afterans seek it, but I care not for it. If there is ought about me that is weak, I would overcome it with determination and hard work – not some pointless transformation. There is no pride to be had in swapping your form for another."
"Pride seems to be a big thing with you," Pyrrha noted.
"I have one existence and one purpose. If I do not take pride in it, what do I have in this life? The other Afterans understand this. We are all born with a purpose. However, they let their purpose dominate all. They would sacrifice their lives and their forms to complete it – no sacrifice too great if it serves the will of the world."
"But you don't believe that."
"No. What use is achieving your purpose if you have to grovel in the dirt to do it? I could have slain the Curious Cat eons ago had I bowed my head and worked with others. I could have sworn an oath never to harm an Afteran again, and they would have all joined forces to assure my victory. But then what? A moment of satisfaction traded against an eternity of frustration. I would have to exist with the consequences."
It made sense, and yet Jaune didn't like the sentiment. He agreed with it, but he also couldn't help but think that accepting their help might count as a compromise in its head, in which case it might be running them in circles. If it saw accepting help as weakness, then it wouldn't want theirs. And it hadn't until they made it clear the alternative was pain and possible death.
It doesn't want to work with us. The betrayal is visible a mile away.
Pyrrha's eyes met his and she nodded just a little. He wasn't sure if she had the exact same thought as he, but they both knew something was up. Pyrrha tapped her fingers on the pommel of her weapon, a clear sign she was ready and felt he should be as well. Jaune rested his hand atop his own as well.
"So, if we're not going to the tree, then where?" he asked.
"The Curious Cat enjoys locations around it. He is curious, as you know, and that extends to the ascended forms of Afterans. He watches them come, asks them why, and waits to see what they shall return as."
"I see. Is that a hobby of his?"
"More like a curse. If Afterans head to the tree, he cannot help that itch demanding he find out why – and if they are going to ascend, then he simply must know what form they will take after." The Jabberwalker chuffed again, his breath coming out raspy and amused. "It is the same as my hunting, except far less exciting for either party. We hunt not the cat but those seeking ascension. They will become its prey, of a sort."
"Won't he be watching them as well?" asked Pyrrha. "He would see us scouting for them."
"Yes. And it will eat at him to know why. He will know it is a trap but that will not matter. He will be compelled by curiosity to discover more, even knowing the threat to his life. He must seek answers."
Like an addict who needed his fix, knowing they were ruining their life but unable to do anything about it. Jaune felt sorry for it. He really did understand why it wanted to end its curse, and he'd have been happy to try and help in better circumstances.
Destroying their world to summon the gods and petition them to change its nature, though…?
They couldn't allow that.
/-/
The Great Tree was even more incredible up close than afar. He had known it was gargantuan, but he hadn't really appreciated that from a distance. The thick, knotted nature of the tree made it seem as if it were numerous organisms at once wrapping around one another, with giant roots that delved underground and also breached it at places, arching up and over their heads gracefully before plunging back into the soil once more.
There were settlements of all things along those routes. Small buildings atop them, and larger ones in the shade beneath. Afterans – or so they had to assume – milled about them, but all fled and locked themselves away when the Jabberwalker came close.
"It seems your reputation proceeds you," Pyrrha said.
"Of course it does."
"And yet you're not hunting them."
"I do not wipe out their hovels. There is no sport in it. I could kill a hundred Afterans at once but then where would the fun be? I follow my own rules. If they can retreat back to their kind, I will consider it their victory and let them go."
"But you could follow through and kill them."
"Yes. But what is life without a little failure here and there?"
For most people, it would be blessed, but Jaune suspected the Jabberwalker was as immortal as the Curious Cat. A never-ending life might become dull if there was no challenge to keep you going. There was an old proverb he'd heard somewhere, though he couldn't remember where it came from. It said: "may all your dreams but one come true".
It sounded like an insult, but the idea was that a person without a dream to strive for would be left empty and morose. People needed ambition and a challenge to keep themselves going, and so wishing someone all the success in the world – but not so much success that they lost things to fight for – was the kindest sentiment you could give. He wondered if Weiss' father was an example of the former. The man had become the richest on Remnant and was now seen as just a bit of an asshole, to the point that even Weiss hated him. Maybe that was what became of people who achieved so much they ran out of things to want.
The Jabberwalker stopped suddenly. There was a strangely industrial-looking home ahead. "I stop here," it said. "This is the Blacksmith's hovel." He sneered the name. "It is an extension of the Great Tree and guides Afterans in their ascension. Most who wish to ascend will seek it out, and the Curious Cat always keeps an eye on the Blacksmith, interested in seeing what ascension will come next."
Jaune tensed. "He's watching, then?"
"Almost certainly. My ancient enemy knows we are here. The only question is whether that knowledge will avail him." The Jabberwalker slouched onto its side, picking at its teeth with its claws. "Speak with the Blacksmith and return after. Accept nothing from the wretched automaton. I will be angered if you accept ascension when you have promised me a battle."
"Humans don't ascend," Pyrrha said. "We grow and adapt, but we don't go through a metamorphosis."
"And if you cannot adapt? What if you cannot adapt to a threat?"
"Then we die trying."
"Hm. The more I hear of your species, the more I like them. Adapt or die. That is as it should be. No free power or altered forms." He scoffed. "But the Blacksmith will be of use to you here."
Jaune and Pyrrha exchanged nods and moved as one toward the home. They were close to the tree but not quite that close to it – not in the acre, or so the locals might have said. Their location was a good few kilometres out.
The Blacksmith's home was oddly futuristic compared to other places. Not sci-fi so much as modern-industrial, and yet despite that there was a forge that looked more middle-ages in design. It was a hodgepodge of eras all slammed together, as if an enthusiast of metallurgy had decided to form a new collection in his backyard.
The clang of a hammer striking metal drew them away from the house and around the back, to where a metal figure – an actual robot – was beating on a metal plate. It raised its hammer and set it down, turning to them.
Not a robot, Jaune realised. Robotics was a science. This was a creature of metal flesh. It was steel all over, and yet it looked supple and soft enough to act like skin. When the creature turned, it did not do so with a click of joints and servos, but like a normal person would. It was feminine, though the Jabberwalker had used "he" and "it" interchangeably, and that perhaps meant gender wasn't a thing here in the Ever-after.
Given the prevalence of unique species consisting of a single member, and the fact that Afterans ascended instead of dying, maybe reproduction didn't exist either. Or maybe it was handled by the Great Tree and happened more as spores.
"Welcome." Where the Jabberwalker had a booming voice and the origami creatures had been soft and papery, the Blacksmith spoke as a normal human. It had its own accent, too. "I had thought for a moment that the Jabberwalker had come at last to seek ascension, but I see it is not with you."
"He's waiting outside," Pyrrha said, jerking a thumb back. "He didn't want to come in. Hello. I'm Pyrrha and this is Jaune." Trust Pyrrha to be formal and polite in a situation like this. "It's nice to meet you."
"Such manners are rare here. Please, be welcome in my home. I am the Blacksmith. Do you seek ascension?"
"No." Jaune answered quickly. He didn't know what ascension would mean for them. "We're from another world and our species don't ascend. We'd rather not risk that here. We're looking for the Curious Cat. He's… He's threatening to destroy our world to bring back the Brother Gods." Jaune hesitated. "Is that something you're for or against?"
Because it occurred to him they'd assumed every Afteran would be aghast at that, but it wasn't necessarily true. The Blacksmith might even support it.
"I am not against the brothers returning and learning to see the joy in their creations," the metal being said. "But I am not for achieving that at the cost of innocent lives. Worry not. My role is to help guide Afterans who wish to ascend. I help explain the process and assist them in choosing out a new form."
It made itself sound like a hairdresser. Jaune knew it wouldn't understand the comparison. "Did the Brother Gods make you, then?"
"Yes and no. I was first created by them but, after they left, I was without a role and cut loose. I sought out the Great Tree and begged it to give me a purpose in life, and it gave me this one. Some might see it as cruel to have their purpose be to help others who already know theirs, and yet I found I loved my task. I get to see the happiness and joy of my fellow Afterans every day, and that brings me my own. It is a wonderfully fulfilling thing to see my visitors cry out with happiness when they see their new forms."
"I hope you're not upset we didn't come for Ascension, then."
"Of course not. Ascension is a deeply personal thing and one of my main jobs is to make sure the Afteran truly wishes for it. I will deny ascension to any that do not long for it deep inside. It's a shame the Jabberwalker won't consider it, but I cannot force it on them. Tell me more of what you are here for. I sense danger about you – and you must be dangerous to have the Jabberwalker at your beck and call."
"Only dangerous to those who wish us harm," Jaune said.
And he began to explain.
The Blacksmith's expression darkened as it learned more, going from smiles to frowns, to sorrowful sighs all the way through to grief. It seemed to take the Curious Cat's actions with a personal degree of responsibility, as if it itself was responsible for what had happened to their world.
"Oh, the poor cat," it lamented. "I would offer it ascension too if it would but take it – and the Great Tree would see fit to free it of its curse of curiosity."
Pyrrha stepped in. "Why does it refuse?"
"Because of curiosity, of course. It longs to be free of its curse and yet it cannot truly be free of it because it is curious. To grow and lose a part of yourself means to understand and accept that. I am not sure how to explain it to you who do not go through it, but if you wish to fly you must surrender your ability to walk on the ground. The Curious Cat would have to be at peace with not knowing everything. Only then could the Great Tree allow it to ascend beyond. However, it will not. A little voice in the back of its mind will grow curious at all times, and that will cause it to cling onto its nature. Even should it go through ascension, it would come out curious on the other side – not because it wishes to be, but because it cannot let go for even a moment."
Jaune equated it to the old idea of clearing your mind. If it couldn't clear its mind of curiosity, it couldn't lose it, but since the Brother Gods had literally made it to "always be curious", it couldn't do that.
"And ascension can't be forced?"
"I'm afraid not. It must be done with the wishes of the individual. That is why I cannot ascend you."
"Then we have to kill the cat," he said. "It's too much of a risk to our world."
The Blacksmith sighed unhappily.
"Will you stop us?" asked Jaune.
"It is not my place to. I am a caretaker here, an extension of the Great Tree's will. It longs for evert Afteran to know peace and tranquillity, and yet it does not force anyone. Deep in its roots, it knows that the Curious Cat and the Jabberwalker – both created and burdened with singular purposes – will never find true peace. The Brother Gods do not understand the concept of an end, of closure."
"Don't understand…?"
"They were young to their immortality and lacked understanding of what it means. To them, the idea that someone might want to end their task is incomprehensible. They created life but they did not understand life, and so what they created were tools." It hefted its own hammer for emphasis. "They made tools that were designed for a single purpose, and gave those tools a semblance of free will to go along with it. When they no longer had need of those tools, they simply set them aside as one might a hammer. But these tools are inert and lifeless. It does no harm when I put them away."
The Blacksmith sighed. "The Curious Cat and the Jabberwalker have been done great harm by the Brother Gods' lack of care. They are tools without a master, with barely a purpose beyond their overriding natures. One must hunt and kill though it will never be full or satisfied, and the other must seek knowledge even though it no longer has anyone to deliver it to. They are victims of greater beings and, though it pains me to say it, they will never know peace."
Pyrrha cleared her throat. "There's one way they will…"
"Yes. Of course. The final peace. Perhaps, in time, the Great Tree will find a way to birth them anew with freer will and no impossible hunger." The Blacksmith let out a heavy sigh. "I will help you. I will travel to the Great Tree and seek my own ascension. Never in history has this been done. It is unheard of." The Blacksmith set its hammer down carefully. "The Curious Cat will be unable to resist finding out why I do this."
"But you will die."
"No. I will be born anew. Fear not for me, for I shall not suffer nor die. You will witness with your own eyes what it means for one to ascend, and perhaps one day you will seek it yourselves. In the meantime, let my ascension serve as the irresistible lure to draw out one who would threaten an entire world for his curse."
Next Chapter: 22nd May
Like my work? Please consider supporting me, even if it's only a little a month or even for a whole year, so I can keep writing so many stories as often as I do. Even a little means a lot and helps me dedicate more time and resources to my work.
P a treon . com (slash) Coeur