A Brief Rest

"Th-this makes the fourth time..."

I muttered the words between ragged breaths, and the Spirit of the World Tree nodded.

"With this, the World Tree itself is complete. There is no further need."

"Well. That's certainly welcome news."

Cold sweat still clung to me as I sank to the ground and let out a long, shaking breath. Four times I had gone back and forth, staking my life against the Spirit of the World Tree in combat, and from those battles we had linked our mana and formed a temporary contract. We had succeeded in resurrecting the World Tree — but I felt as though I were the one about to die.

"At this point, the elves really ought to raise at least one Spiritist among them. It would do the whole race good to make a habit of seeking out those with a talent for spirit arts. Truly."

"In truth, it would scarcely be an exaggeration to say that one among the elves is always born with a Spiritist's gift."

"Is that so?"

"But there is no guarantee that such a one is necessarily here in Elvenheim."

A talent great enough to contract with the Spirit of the World Tree would be extraordinary — and yet they had chosen not to walk the path of a Spiritist, and were not even in Elvenheim?

"The elf who was meant to be here refused to form a contract with me and left as though running away from home. Honestly, I was rather hurt. Was I truly so unpleasant?"

"It seems the place assigned to them felt stifling."

"It cannot be helped. Heaven's decree extends only to the moment of birth. Everything after that is for the individual to decide. ...I, too, believed it was my fate to die — and yet here I am, having survived once more."

"..."

"You have my thanks."

"I'm glad you at least know how to be grateful."

"Yes. I think so as well."

The Spirit of the World Tree drew a little closer and spoke.

"You intend to go to Erchia, the City of Water, do you not?"

"That is the plan... Why do you ask?"

"Between Erchia and this Elvenheim, there should be the Spirit Forest."

"Yes, there is."

I had been there myself, once. But aside from the sheer number of spirits, it was not a place of any particular note. People offered various theories — that the forest produced mana the spirits favored, and so on. Any number of hypotheses had been put forward, yet no one truly knew why the spirits were so fond of that wood. In any case, it was a place overflowing with spirits and little else, and as I had mentioned, spirits were rather capricious. Wander in carelessly, and you were liable to become a plaything for their mischievous whims.

There were no villages nearby, nor any rare herbs unique to the Spirit Forest. Occasionally someone would go intending to hunt spirits, but spirits could return to nature at will — you could neither strike them nor bind them, no matter how you tried. If hunting were the goal, targeting the core would kill a spirit, but there was nothing to be gained by doing so. More than anything, spirits were considered a blessing of the Goddess, and hunting them was a crime punishable by law.

Spirits were mischievous, yes, but they never did anything truly worth killing over — and if you fled, they would not pursue you with lethal intent. In short, so long as you observed basic human courtesy, passed through without incident, and laughed off their childish pranks, you would be fine.

"Is there something in that Spirit Forest?"

"There is a Temple of the Goddess."

"Pardon?"

"It is hidden."

"...Why?"

"You would do well to ask the Shrine Spirit who resides there. The reason it was concealed was never something I needed to know."

"I see... But the fact that you're telling me this means you want me to go there, doesn't it?"

"It does."

The Spirit of the World Tree tossed something gem-like toward me, and I caught it. It resembled a Spirit Core, and yet it was subtly different. What is this?

"So long as you carry that, you will be able to pinpoint the temple's location. It is a sanctuary the Goddess herself built in ages past. You may find some answer there to the present situation."

"From the earliest records to the present day, there has never been any trace of the Goddess descending in person. And yet you speak as though she did?"

Those words carried a certain weight. They were the kind of thing you could not simply let pass without a second thought.

"Is there something among commonly accepted knowledge that is wrong — or perhaps something that is simply not well known?"

"...You are quite perceptive."

"..."

"I cannot explain. I give this to you as thanks for saving Elvenheim — and because, no matter how I consider it, the present crisis is far from ordinary."

"I see."

"Even if you cannot meet the Goddess herself, you should be able to obtain information from the spirit who dwells there. If fortune favors you, you may even be able to borrow its power."

"...Will I have to fight for my life again?"

"That spirit is a pacifist. It detests conflict above all else. So in one form or another, there will be almost no chance of a fight."

"I see."

Which, put another way, meant that even if it lent its power, it would not be through a direct contract. That the Spirit of the World Tree itself would recommend this — of all beings — meant that visiting this place was necessary for our journey.

"Understood. We will make certain to stop by the Spirit Forest on our way."

"Lois."

"Yes."

"Between the Goddess and the Evil God — which do you believe is good?"

"Pardon?"

I tilted my head at the sudden question. What is this? A joke? But the spirit's expression was utterly serious. This was no jest. Should I simply say what I think? It won't take that as blasphemy against the Goddess, will it?

"To humanity, the Goddess is good. To monsters, the Evil God is good."

"...Do ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠monsters not appear evil to you?"

"They do."

"Then why would you say such a thing?"

"Because that is humanity's standard. They, too, can speak. They, too, have desires. Their way of life is so warped as to be utterly incomprehensible, but..."

Depending on how one heard it, it might well have been blasphemy — but I had decided to speak my mind.

"They are a race born that way, who consider such things only natural. That is evil — but it is evil by humanity's moral standard."

"..."

"And so, while I regard monsters as beings with whom coexistence is impossible, I do not consider them absolute evil."

Of course, I felt no pity when facing them. The stronger a monster, the more experience it had accumulated — and the more atrocities it had committed. There was no value in speaking with them. They were, by humanity's measure, irredeemable wickedness: predators for whom dialogue was meaningless. Conversing with a creature that merely happened to possess speech held no meaning at all.

"Not evil, then — but a creature with whom coexistence is impossible."

"If I had to put it precisely, they are evil by humanity's standard. ...Ah. You're not going to be angry with me for being irreverent, are you?"

"No. Hardly."

The Spirit of the World Tree smiled.

"I am quite fond of that way of thinking. ...The Goddess made a mistake in the past. By humanity's standard, it was a worthless sentiment that led her to err — and the situation has become what it is now."

"What do you mean by that?"

"No. I can say no more... Yes. Confirm it for yourself in the Spirit Forest. ...If fortune smiles upon you, you may even be granted an audience with the Goddess."

The Goddess — a being of legend and nothing more — existed, and could be met? Somehow, the thought filled me with a quiet anticipation.

"One last thing."

"Please, go on."

"Does such a thing as omnipotence exist?"

"No."

"...I see. Then I ask that you guide the Hero well. The moment you met the Hero who had been betrayed, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fate shifted greatly. Things that should have gone terribly awry are being restored with remarkable speed."

"Are you saying that my meeting with Olivia was some kind of destiny?"

"No. The opposite."

The Spirit of the World Tree smiled.

The words were like a prophecy.

"May fortune go with you."

"...Thank you."

"Ah, and one more thing."

What now?

"Would you pass a message along to the child named Sylphy?"

"What is it?"

"Tell him he cannot run from it anyway — so he may as well accept it."

"..."

This was as good as the Spirit of the World Tree itself declaring, outright: You are the next king. Remarkable. He had captivated the Meteor Bow, and now even the Spirit of the World Tree. Oberon, then, I suppose.

With Lois's final treatment of the World Tree complete, the great tree began to function normally once more. And a funeral was held for those who had died in the recent attack. In a solemn atmosphere, none forgot the respect due to the dead, and the rites stretched long into the day.

Titania had finished her part in the funeral. Everything that needed doing had been done. All that remained was the aftermath. Ordinarily, she would have taken part in that as well — but the elves all knew her condition was poor, and they had urged her to go inside first.

And so Titania sat staring blankly ahead. Inside a small urn were the ashes of a single person. They had received neither blessing nor honor from anyone.

She believed it had been an honorable end. At least the end itself. But she could not bless it, nor could she grant it a place of honor. However much it was said that a person's death decided a great deal, the life they had lived was not without its weight in that judgment.

She had never wanted her to become king. It was not merely that the role was difficult, nor that Rayna was utterly unsuited to the throne. It was not a matter of incompetence. Rayna had been suited to a soldier's life — far more gifted at receiving orders and acting on them than at giving them.

Tears slipped down her face in silence.

She had done a terrible thing. And she had died without taking responsibility for it — fleeing, in a sense. It was something Titania ought to have been angry about. And yet what rose in her was not rage, but sorrow. Because she had not even known that her daughter, Rayna, had been suffering so.

To Titania she had been a daughter. To everyone else, she had not. And in the name of fairness, it could not be otherwise. To show her consideration simply because she was her daughter — to grant Rayna the same honors as the others who had died, for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that reason alone — that would have been an abuse of power. If Titania were ever to abuse her power, it would only be for something she believed would benefit Elvenheim. This was not even that. And so the grieving was Titania's alone.

"...Who is there?"

A presence made itself known, and someone approached with slow steps.

"...Olivia?"

In one hand she carried the liquor Rayna had often drunk in life.

"I've come to pay my respects. That's all right, isn't it?"

So the liquor was an offering of condolence. Titania smiled awkwardly and said,

"Come in. Let us speak a while."