The World Tree's Awakening
It took me nearly a year to fully master the elven tongue. Of course, that was for complete fluency; I gradually came to understand it well before then. And it wasn't just the language I learned during that time. There was also Amari El's private life, since she was the only elf I could communicate with. I only learned about it when she permitted it. In my spare time, I wandered the elven village, studying their way of life.
As rumored, the elves were all strikingly beautiful, regardless of gender, and exceptional archers. To be precise, their archery was combined with spirit arts, unleashing terrifying power. Most elves were spirit mages. There were especially many who had contracted with wind spirits or water spirits, and their archery aided by wind spirits could pierce targets hundreds of meters away even with eyes closed. At first, I even doubted if it was truly archery. In extreme cases, they could turn their backs on the target, loose the arrow backward, and the spirit would guide it straight to the mark.
But what made their archery truly exceptional was that even elves who couldn't use spirits were crack shots. Their bow-making techniques were particularly unique, producing outstanding weapons. I roughly learned the methods by listening in, but they posed problems for humans to replicate exactly. It took over ten years to craft a single elven bow. Far too inefficient.
And I learned one secret about the elves that probably no human knew: their greatest skill was pharmacology. Living in harmony with nature, they knew the uses of countless plants and had developed them into advanced medicine. According to Amari El, a typical elf's lifespan was just over 200 years. But they had a medicine they consumed almost daily. This could be called the pinnacle of elven alchemy; long-term use promoted health and extended life. As a result, elves lived over 300 years.
This medicine they ate every day, called Elpyorai, surprisingly required no special ingredients. The catch was using a water spirit in the preparation. I picked up the recipe by peeking over shoulders, but without spirits at my command, it was useless to me. Still, I memorized recipes for the many medicines that didn't require spirits—just in case.
There was really nothing more for me to do in the elven village, yet I stayed on. It was their unique lifestyle, I suppose. The leisurely, peaceful rhythm so different from humans appealed to me. Like some spirit myself, I spent quite a long time there, quietly assisting Amari El in small ways.
Then one day, Amari El said something out of the blue.
"Frisen, would you contract with me?"
Frisen was the name Amari El called me by. It roughly meant "free spirit."
[I'm not a spirit.]
"Of course I know that. But I have a feeling we could contract right now."
Had I unknowingly become a spirit? If we contracted, would I have to live here with her for around 200 years? A flood of thoughts hit me. Elves didn't speak idly, so there must be something to it.
[Am I a spirit after all?]
"Definitely not. But you're not not a spirit either."
This was what I hated about elves. They loved vague, ambiguous expressions.
[A half-spirit, then?]
"Wouldn't you like to meet the World Tree?"
The World Tree? Was there one in this village? I'd lived here over two years and never seen it. Of course, I'd heard tales. An enormous tree, revered by elves like a god.
[How far away is it?]
As far as I knew, the only places in the Western Continent fit for such a massive tree were the Great Forest or the Dragon Mountains. Anywhere else, and there'd be records.
"It's right here."
Amari El smiled faintly as she answered. I followed her to the village center, near the grand elder's house. The elven grand elder was the village's sole high elf. He didn't look different or live apart from ordinary elves. His house was just a bit larger. But he was immensely powerful. He wielded all four elemental spirits—earth, fire, wind, water—and his swordsmanship was at least Master level, probably higher. I'd never seen him at full strength, but I guessed he could match the Ma-su Wang if he got serious.
We arrived at a small clearing behind the grand elder's house. A place I passed through thoughtlessly every day. The elves did the same. There stood a tiny sapling, about two handspans tall. I knew of it, of course.
"That's the World Tree."
[This tree?]
Amari El referred to the tiny sprout so naturally as the World Tree that I was taken aback. If this was it, shouldn't they at least fence it off and tend to it daily?
"Come closer to the World Tree."
I approached as instructed. Up close, it still didn't look like any World Tree.
"Meet the World Tree."
But I'd already met it. This was another thing I disliked about elves. Despite my inner grumbling, Amari El stood there serene as ever.
[How am I supposed to—]
Before I finished, I was before the World Tree. Not the sapling, but a colossal tree so vast its size defied measurement. I could do nothing. No words came, no movement. It was like an expansion of consciousness. I couldn't explain precisely, but it felt like parts of my soul I'd never used were now accessible.
As that sensation washed over me, I returned to the sapling. Amari El was gone. On my way back to her house, things I'd never noticed before came into view. Not souls, but similar—lively, darting presences. Those must be spirits.
Back home, Amari El greeted me with a beaming smile.
"Congratulations."
[Am I a spirit now?]
"No. You're still not a spirit."
[Then what am I?]
"You're just Frisen."
Ah, I really hated this. Just tell me plainly.
[So there's no one else like me?]
"In a way, yes—and no."
If I were human with a face, I'd be glaring daggers at Amari El.
[Now I can see spirits too.]
"I figured as much."
[Can I contract with spirits now?]
"No. But if you just ask nicely, they'll listen."
Even this felt half-baked. I kept questioning, receiving koan-like answers. After nearly a week of talk, I concluded I'd become a spirit-like soul. Free-roaming spirits without contracts did heed my requests reliably. Not unconditionally, though—unreasonable demands or those against their nature were refused.
Being able to use spirits expanded my abilities, so it wasn't a bad development. A few days later, Amari El asked again about contracting, but I refused. The thought of over 200 years of frustrating elven riddles made me feel like the stew from my living days was rising in my throat.
It was time to leave the elven village. I was curious how Ether was faring after his marriage, and with luck, I might encounter the Ma-su Wang in the human world. Besides, there were still many places I hadn't seen.
I bid Amari El farewell. Just in case, I asked if she needed gold or jewels. Surprisingly, she lit up. She didn't need them per se, but they were hard to obtain here. I pulled out a good amount from my subspace pocket. In return, she gave me an elven bow—from who knows where—and various medicines. Useless to me, but since the gold and gems weren't for my own use either, I stored them away.
Thus ended my life in the elven village. I exited the Great Forest and scoured nearby villages and cities for the Ma-su Wang, but found no trace.
On my way back to the Benerus palace, a sudden thought made me detour to my old viscountcy. Father was long dead, and my eldest brother had inherited and was managing the territory. I couldn't tell if the steward had died or retired, but without him, the estate seemed worse off than before. My makeshift grave, roughly built even then, was untended and erased without a trace.
My brother's children—my nephews, originally—had grown quite a bit, but their souls showed no talent. The viscountcy might vanish like my grave in the next generation.
Back at the Benerus palace, Ether had already fathered a son. Just to check, I spoke to the infant in his cradle several times, but with no reaction, it seemed he hadn't inherited my gift for understanding souls.
I lingered a few days, touring the palace, but there was nothing for me to do. Marking my return would just invite the king to dump tedious tasks on me again, so I left a single note for Ether saying I was off traveling once more and departed.
I stopped by the Aegis ducal house to ensure Elizabeth wasn't crying. She was blissfully happy in her newlywed life. Good. No need to kill her husband.
My next goal was a place few cared about. I'd found it in the magic tower's history books: in northwestern Benerus lay the Prisoner barony, an ancient house with little power or wealth.
The founding baron was notable enough for the magic tower annals—a highly capable mage obsessed with a single spell. That spell was preservation magic. Useful, yes, but not difficult, so fixating on it seemed odd. Mages usually researched attack spells or lucrative utility ones; few bothered with preservation magic.
Thus, the founder endured mockery from mage society, left the tower, returned to his territory, and died there. Up to here, no reason to visit. But the baronial mansion was somewhat famous. Built by the founder, it stood intact after over 150 years.
One might chalk it up to good maintenance, but a preservation specialist's house enduring so long piqued my interest. So, I set the Prisoner mansion as my next destination.
After weeks of travel, I arrived—and was a bit disappointed. No trace of magic anywhere on the mansion.
[They seriously maintained this place for 150 years with just upkeep?]
The building looked freshly constructed. My suspicions lingered.
The Prisoner descendants still lived off preservation magic. Being a tiny border fief, the occasional commission sufficed for operations. The current baron had decent talent by his soul; he'd have become a high mage in the tower.
So, as usual, I did what I do best. I burrowed underground into the mansion.
My choice was spot on. Beneath lay a long descending passage. Deep down, it opened into a spacious basement, furnished like a wealthy noble's bedroom. An old man lay on the bed.