New Paradise (6)
"Still as capricious as ever."
I hadn't just prepared salt. After hearing the full story from Serenian, I'd pulled out everything I had at home on short notice—salt, sugar, pepper, even compound seasonings. But of those, I could only pass on the unprocessed ones like salt and sugar, since they'd gone through no special processing. Things like compound seasonings couldn't be handed over without scale adjustment.
It had always been this way, but the standards were arbitrary, and so were the judgments. I sneered at this unknown force governing the world inside the flowerpot, whose inner workings and intentions I could never quite fathom.
"Did you receive it? Did it really give what the divine spirit desired?"
"Yeah, surprisingly enough."
I radioed Serenian while peering down into the flowerpot world. The elves there had frozen in shock at the salt crystals falling like snow from the sky, but there was no time to just stand around gawking.
"---!"
Serenian, who had answered the radio in a daze, set it down and sprang into action, prodding the elves to hurry. Even a small amount sprinkled into the pot meant they had to clean it up fast before it harmed the plants. I'd given just a fingertip's worth, but for now, it seemed plenty.
Once the cleanup was roughly done and several clay pots filled to the brim with salt, Serenian dipped a trembling finger in and tasted it.
"We elves never really ate much salt to begin with. We didn't need to."
"And now?"
"If we want to eat it, we eat. If not, we don't. No need to forbid it or crave it."
She'd called it an intensely addictive stimulus that could hook the elves, but Serenian herself just furrowed her brow without much reaction. Maybe she simply didn't grasp it yet. If only she sprinkled it on some meat...
"Still, if this can save my kin, that's enough."
Serenian handed a pot of salt to Leon, whose face was tense with nerves. He took it carefully and packed it into his bag. Now he would cross back to that world and persuade his kin. Even to me, who didn't know the full details, it seemed like a plan with solid odds.
After all, the elves would much prefer Serenian's flowerpot world to slaving away under oppression from their own kind.
If it works, great. If not, oh well.
As Leon crossed the rift once more, I put into action an idea I'd been mulling over for a while.
"That red bird seems intent on following."
"Leave it be. It must want something."
Serenian radioed me in surprise at the drone hugging close to Leon, but I brushed it off. No telling if it'd work, but if the drone actually made it through to that world—and if I could still control it there—I'd get to see so much more. Worth the experiment for that alone.
"--, ---."
Soon Leon crossed the rift again. The drone, flying right alongside him, did the same. At least the rift didn't block it. Inside the flowerpot world, the drone vanished, and my controller screen showed a burst of pure white light lingering for a few seconds.
It worked.
And right after, the restored feed from the drone's camera revealed not the flowerpot world anymore—but somewhere entirely different.
"---? --."
Leon spotted the drone and chuckled, flicking its body with a finger. No audio, but I could guess his intent.
"Ah, damn."
But just before escaping the dense ancient forest—far denser than anything in the flowerpot world—the signal cut out. Too much distance, triggering the error. With Leon nearby, it probably wouldn't get ditched or abandoned, but the limited range was a bummer.
To extend the communication range, the World Tree's growth is required.
"...The World Tree does it all."
Of course, that wasn't the limit. As I fiddled with the controller, the writing on the flowerpot offered a solution, as if it knew.
"Oh? Run out of power already?"
In the ancient forest near the waterfall rift, Leon caught the plummeting drone as its furiously spinning propellers suddenly stopped.
Thinking of the drone as some peculiar living creature, he figured its energy had simply depleted. After all, it often went still like it was dead inside the flowerpot world, recovering its strength. He didn't know the real reason was the pilot setting the controller aside for other tasks.
"Let's hurry. Not far now."
Leon tucked the drone into his bosom and dashed toward the village. The sun had already set, leaving the fields empty of workers and the village eerily quiet.
"Bin, you in?"
"L-Leon!"
Slipping into the village, he found the friend he'd met just before. Bin, who already seemed to sense someone approaching—bow in hand—spotted Leon through the window, startled, then hurriedly opened the door and pulled him inside.
"Didn't I tell you I'd come back?"
"You left in such a rush, I didn't think you'd really return. What's that weird thing in your arms?"
After ushering Leon in and securing the door and curtains tight, Bin sighed and pointed at the drone nestled against him. Leon, who couldn't quite call it a divine beast, hesitated without a good excuse.
But Bin didn't press for an answer, instead carefully tapping the living room floor.
"This is..."
"Couldn't be helped. I was so worried after hearing what happened to you."
Leon groaned inwardly at the sight of those emerging from the secret compartment beneath the lifted floorboards.
"Leon."
A bob-haired elf woman lifted her toddling children up first, then approached and embraced him. Her name was Nella, Bin's wife—and a close friend of Leon's own wife. She couldn't possibly face him unscathed in her current state.
"I'm fine, don't worry. Both of you."
But Leon, resolve hardened, suppressed his churning emotions and comforted his friends' family. As he did, he unpacked the bundle he'd prepared in advance.
"I didn't come back for nothing. You all think you're corrupted, but you're not."
With that, he slowly explained the flowerpot world and Serenian. What lay there, how life worked. To Bin and Nella, it was shocking—but also a glimmer of hope.
With nothing but despair left here, that single handful of hope was enough to sway hearts.
"St-still, abandoning our homeland..."
"No, we'll go. We're not abandoning our home—our home abandoned us first."
Bin hesitated slightly, but Nella's eyes gleamed as she firmly backed Leon. With her close friend dragged off to who-knows-where and vanished, she'd been wasting away, barely sleeping.
"You can see it for yourselves and decide. But if you go, confirm my words are true, and help persuade the chieftain."
"Then that's what we'll do."
Leon urged the couple to visit at least once. With him putting it that way, Bin had no reason to refuse and agreed. Without further delay, they left the house.
"..."
"Shouldn't we sleep here for the night? It's so late."
"No time for that. Whatever the outcome, they'll be right back. You go rest. Plenty to do tomorrow."
It was late night there too. As Leon and Bin made their way back, Serenian stood unsleeping on the second-floor balcony of the miniature house, gazing endlessly at the World Tree bathed in faint moonlight.
Ren, the boy, approached her tentatively, but she just gave a bitter smile and shook her head.
If they truly migrate here...
She wasn't anxious without reason. It wasn't just fear of failure.
Success worried her too. If droves of elves came, she'd naturally have to lead them as the World Tree's sole high elf and chieftain.
But she doubted herself. She'd already failed once.
She hadn't protected or endured in the end. Tonight, the scars riddling her back burned especially fiercely.
"Please watch over us to the end."
She murmured blankly at the sky. Getting this far hadn't been her power alone. Without aid from above, the young World Tree would've died before sprouting leaves, and she'd have perished in the jaws of those horrific mana beasts, the ant monsters she'd never seen before.
She knew she shouldn't rely on it, but beneath her strong facade, her heart cried out desperately: the help that had carried her through every trial—please see it through to the end.
Finally.
Soon her eyes twitched. Her communion with the unified World Tree signaled someone approaching from outside.
"Se, Serenian."
The rift opened, and Leon and Bin emerged. Bin, who knew what to expect, still gaped in undisguised shock at the waiting Serenian.