The World

Bard approached, placing a hand on Kai’s side, a faint smile on his lips.

“Looks like not everyone would be against her,” he said, thinking of Selene’s concerns. Her eyes widened, then softened into a childlike smile, her expression flickering as if confused by her two souls. Hesitation clouded her gaze, and Bard understood it as a parent himself. But her past was a storm he could only grasp at with futility. Anjur stepped forward, offering his hand, and after a moment, Selene’s face settled into determination as she took it, glancing at Bard with newfound confidence.

“It would be best, while the memory of how to do this remains, that we finish the job,” Jay prodded, his voice tight with urgency. They all turned to Father Tree, his ancient branches trembling faintly, and nodded. Kai curled around Bard, eliciting a smile from him. This steady presence grounded him once more as he lifted his fiddle, the bow gliding across the strings to summon Father’s melody.

Bard gave a quick nod to the others. He was ready. Questions burned in his mind, like those memories he’d seen, were they real? But there was no time to ask. The ritual had to be done now.

Selene stepped into the center of the ravine, her hands unraveling the barrier around them, while Anjur unwove his light from him and Bard, their faces set with grim resolve. Bard closed his eyes, focusing on Father’s warm melody, letting it guide his bow. All he needed to do was play.

Selene’s eyes glowed, the mark on her forehead pulsing as her hair bled into her shadow, a dark cascade shimmering with her powers. Anjur raised his hands toward the shattered moon, its fractured light piercing the clouds. Storm shades parted, assisting the dispersal, and moonlight streamed down, gathering near Father Tree’s crown in a shimmer of silver. Anjur smirked before shaking his head. He drew from that light, feeding it to Selene, who channeled it into the shadows around her.

Darkness swallowed them, sudden and absolute. Bard’s bow nearly slipped, the shift jarring his rhythm, but he clung to Father’s melody, playing through the disorientation. A hand gripped his shoulder. Anjur, his expression heavy with pity, helped him focus on where to look as he stared ahead. Light wove through the darkness, faint threads of silver that pushed back the void, revealing Kai’s silver fur as he pressed closer, a silent anchor. Voices cried out, whispers at first, then screams that swirled around them, a chorus of anguish. Anjur’s jaw clenched, and Bard’s mind spun, struggling to hold Father’s melody as the screams grew louder, a storm of sound he could barely hear sort through.

The darkness parted, and visions flashed before him, rapid and unrelenting. He saw fish-like beings underwater, their scales glinting as they fought the Shades, only to fall, their bodies littering the ocean floor as the survivors were slaughtered. The scene shifted to a continent above the waves, where a unified force of giant humans, wearing strange clothes, wielding strange, technology against a towering Shade with gray eyes. Tendrils dripped from its hands before snaking across the land, shading people, turning them into puppets as cities crumbled into barren dust, their screams fading to silence. Catfolk appeared next, black-furred and shaded, weaving lies among their kin, leading light warriors to a six-eyed beast with glowing blue eyes. He barely saw them bow and revere that beast, the harbinger. Then a forest, where a host of dryads fought until a grand Elder Dryad shaded, his glowing green eyes turning on his own, a betrayal that echoed through time.

Bard’s breath caught, his mind reeling. What was this? A second song cut through the darkness, haunting and familiar, and he struggled to keep playing, his fingers trembling on the fiddle. The song grew, sung by a voice like Selene’s, but softer, child-like. And then, a mother’s lullaby began, weaving Father’s melody. A faint light appeared, and Bard saw a family: a mother with elegant black hair, a father, a young man grinning, and a small girl. The mother sang Father’s song, her voice a fleeting warmth, but the vision vanished. A searing light flooded in, and her voice cried out in pain while her family screamed.

The scene shifted. A small shadow, barely struggling, returned to them. Those same children clutched a broken soul, the father dead on the ground, a mirror of Bard’s own loss. Rage, not his own, descended before consuming the young girl. Bard caught sight of a being beside the girl, and she transformed into the Empress of the Night, her brother bowing as the Six-Eyed Harbinger.

Bard’s mind raced, piecing it together. The song that had echoed with Father’s was hers, a child’s melody turned to rage.

The darkness gave way once more, and a green orb came into view. Surrounded by stars, explosions and bursts of light appeared, before ultimately the orb shattered, in the midst of the destruction, a being of darkness battling the light, its form fracturing under the strain.

Bard’s hands shook, the visions too much, too fast. Father’s story of the shattered moon echoed in his mind. Was this the past? Anjur’s grip tightened.

“Watch,” he said, his voice a lifeline. The visions sharpened, showing the wars’ origins. The Empress’s expressions shifting from anger to sadness, then exhaustion, as if she were tired of a war she no longer wanted. But there was no time to process, no space to breathe. The ritual pressed on, relentless.

His fiddle vanished, though its melody lingered in his ears. A small girl and her mother appeared, smiling at him before fading. The Empress’s song returned, simple and childlike, tinged with sadness but a flicker of hope.

“That song is so pretty,” a voice said, and Bard turned to see the mother sitting with her daughter in her lap. She paused her singing of Father’s tune.

“It is, isn’t it? I wish to hear it one more time. Perhaps, someday,” she replied, and Bard froze.

That mother was Selene, back when she knew Father Tree as a friend. Tears stung his eyes as the scene snapped back to the present.

Through Selene’s eyes, the world unshaded in a rush, their shadowy forms being pulled back like curtains, their hearts glowed with the moon light and their heads glowed as well, pulsing with Father’s song. Shades turned, the living glowing white before returning with color, mirroring Kai’s transformation, while trees and rocks shimmered back to life. Father’s melody swept across the land, reaching Sal Shefa.

Bard saw Sen and Zak, their eyes becoming that emerald green and bright blue he knew and loved. Their expressions of confusion melting into relief as Sen pulled Zak into a tight embrace. Amir and Elwood appeared too, whole again. A flicker of hope warmed Bard’s chest, but it was fleeting. Cries of anguish followed as the fallen were revealed, their losses a heavy toll. The scene raced on, showing other places unshading, some Shades retreating while others were restored, the world vast and sprawling.

Bard appeared in a field of stars, Selene’s form wavering, while that child-like song faded to a whisper. Anjur’s footsteps echoed, and another figure appeared. It was a Dryad-like man with branch-like antlers, a halo of moonlight framing him. Selene’s gaze met Bard’s, then she collapsed to her knees, her voice barely audible. “It is finished.”

Anjur gestured for Bard to approach, his arm wrapping around him with a soft chuckle.

“Well done, everyone,” Father’s voice came from the Dryad-like man, and Bard’s eyes widened in awe. Selene bowed, her hands pressed to the invisible floor.

“I’m sorry. Truly,” she said, her words meant for Father. Their eyes met, and Bard stepped back, understanding his role as the Elder Trees’ representative.

He crossed over and knelt in front of Selene. She had done her part, but they wouldn’t have needed to if she hadn’t shaded the world in the first place. These emotions boiled, and he quickly shut them down, keeping in mind all the teachings he had learned. He then extended out a hand, but pulled it back. He could hear that song dying, and with a sudden realization, he figured out who it belonged to.

He looked up at Anjur who smiled and then weaved his hands to create a flute of moonlight. He handed it to Bard, who took it, and then listened once before playing the song. The empress’s form froze, then wavered. Her head barely rose to look up in surprise.

Bard’s eyes stared into hers as he played, and a smile formed as she closed them. Her shadowy being slipped down and as it did, a small child, appeared. The very one who had been there in those visions. She wobbled, closed her eyes and then collapsed. The shadow of her form floated near Bard, shrinking. The girl began to breathe, and her song became steady. Bard paused and then breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” Selene’s voice whispered, melancholic. Bard shook his head.

“We forgive you,” he said softly, a strange relief washing over him despite the bitterness. Anjur touched the girl’s forehead, his voice gentle. “She’ll be just fine.”

“You’ll keep her safe?” Selene’s voice asked, faint as a dying echo.

“Hey, we keep our promises,” Anjur replied with a playful lilt. Bard nodded, and Father Tree shifted, his branches rustling in agreement. The air lightened, Selene’s presence fading completely.

Kai padded over, the night sky disappearing as they returned to the ground once more. He lowered his head, sniffing at the girl, breaking the stillness. Anjur extended a hand to Bard, but he shook his head and chose to flop onto the ground, the flute slipping from his grasp.

There had been no time to breathe, no moment to process. The ritual’s urgency had carried them through, but now the weight of it all crashed down. Kai nuzzled him, a comforting warmth, and Anjur chuckled softly. Bard stared at the sky, the shattered moon a stark reminder of the world he’d seen, the hope they’d reclaimed, and the cost they’d paid. He just needed a moment to let it all sink in.