Crown Tree Memories

Dawn poured over the treetops like warm honey, painting the sky in soft gold and sleepy pink. A breeze danced through the leaves, carrying the scent of sea salt, wildflowers, and something older like forgotten stories hidden in the soil.

Haru stretched slowly under the Crown Tree’s wide branches, her limbs still heavy with sleep. She sat up and blinked at the empty spot beside her.

“He’s gone again,” she muttered with a small smile. “Figures.”

The others stirred not long after. Sora groaned and rubbed his face. Yita yawned so wide it looked like her soul tried to escape. Renji just grumbled something into his scarf.

Sora sat up and looked around. “Where’s Kaito?”

“Off brooding again?” Yita teased.

“No,” Haru said softly, brushing leaves from her coat. “He’s searching.”

Renji raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“I don’t think even he knows.”

Sora stood, slinging his pack over his shoulder. “Then let’s go find him. My guess? Silverfin Market.”

The Silverfin Market was awake and alive.

Colorful awnings waved gently in the wind. The air buzzed with chatter and laughter. Merchants shouted out their deals. Children darted through narrow alleys, holding sweets and sticky buns. Music played from a stringed instrument somewhere in the background, lazy and cheerful.

Kaito walked slowly through it all, like someone wandering through a dream. He passed stalls full of grilled fish, spiced rice, and jars filled with glowing jellyfruit.

But it wasn’t the food that caught his attention. It was a small, hunched figure struggling to lift a basket filled with herbs and wrapped cloth.

“Let me help you,” he said gently, stepping forward.

The old woman looked up, surprised, then smiled with kind eyes. “Well now. That’s rare these days. Not many young ones stop to help an old granny.”

Kaito smiled back. “You looked like you could use a hand.”

She laughed softly. “That I do.”

He carried her basket through the twisting paths of the village until they reached a quiet house tucked between trees. It had a wooden fence, flower beds full of red and purple blossoms, and wind chimes that tinkled like whispers.

“You live here alone?” he asked.

She nodded. “Me and the memories.”

“The garden’s beautiful.”

“My husband planted it,” she said, running her fingers over a flower’s petals. “He’s been gone a long time. But I think the flowers still remember him.”

She invited Kaito in for tea, and he accepted without hesitation.

The inside of the house smelled like dried herbs and something sweet maybe cinnamon. It was cozy. Old books stacked neatly, paintings on the walls, a fireplace filled with smooth stones.

They sat in silence for a while, sipping tea.

“You’re not from this village, are you?” she asked.

Kaito shook his head. “We passed through five years ago. Just briefly. But we’re back now.”

“With friends?”

“Yes.”

She smiled. “Traveling with friends is a blessing. But returning with them... that’s a miracle.”

Kaito looked down into his tea. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“In this village, is there anything strange? Or... magical?”

Her eyes twinkled. “Looking for magic, are you? Most boys your age chase coins or titles.”

“Not all magic is loud,” Kaito said. “Some of it whispers.”

She leaned back, thoughtful. “There’s an old story. My husband swore it was true. He took me to the cliffs once, during the Firelight Festival. That night, we saw them.”

“Who?”

“Silver wolves.”

Kaito’s breath caught.

“A whole pack,” she said, voice hushed. “Their fur shimmered like moonlight. Eyes glowing like lanterns in the dark. Some say it was just a trick of the fire. But I remember. They stood there watching us for what felt like forever… and then disappeared into the trees.”

“Do they still appear?”

She shook her head slowly. “Only during the Firelight Festival. When the sky is full of fire and the mountain breathes wind. That’s when the veil between the now and once-upon-a-time is thinnest.”

Kaito stood, bowing his head with gratitude. “Thank you. Truly.”

“Be careful on that mountain,” she said with a wink. “Magic has teeth.”

Kaito rejoined the others near the market’s center, where a group of kids were watching Renji try (and fail) to win a toy from a claw machine.

“There you are!” Sora called. “Where’d you run off to?”

“Just… wandering.”

“You always ‘just wander,’” Yita said, hands on her hips.

“Wandered right into something interesting this time,” Kaito said, eyes shining. “We’re going to the cliffs.”

“The ones above Cliff Valley?” Haru asked.

“Yeah. There’s something we need to see. During the festival.”

They bought snacks from a nearby shop sweet buns, spicy skewers, and fizzy drinks that tingled the tongue. The shopkeeper, an older woman with sharp eyes, watched them carefully.

“You going to the cliffs?” she asked.

“We are,” Renji said with a calm smile.

The woman’s face darkened. “Be careful. That place holds old things. Spirits that don’t like to be disturbed.”

“Sounds like a party,” Sora joked.

But her warning stayed with them as they made their way up the mountain path.

The climb was steep and winding, but every step was worth it.

The higher they went, the more the air changed cooler, cleaner, tinged with pine and old stone. Birds flew alongside them. Butterflies danced in sunbeams. The sky stretched wide and endless.

They stopped halfway to rest on a flat rock overlooking the forest. Below, the sea sparkled. Above, the cliff still waited.

“This feels… right,” Yita whispered, watching the wind sway the trees.

“It feels like we never left,” Haru added, voice soft.

“Funny, isn’t it?” Sora said. “We saw the world. Crossed deserts, climbed ruins, fought storms. But here... this place still feels like the center of everything.”

Renji nodded. “Some places stay in your bones.”

They reached the top just as the sky turned orange.

The cliff overlooked the valley below—trees stretching far, rivers snaking through the land, and beyond it all, the endless ocean.

They ate their snacks together, quiet and content.

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in deep pink and violet, Kaito stood up.

“Sunset,” he whispered.

The others followed him into a nearby cave, one they’d found long ago. The entrance was hidden behind a curtain of vines, but once inside, it opened wide and cool.

They laid down on the stone floor, watching the last light flicker on the cave walls.

No words were needed. Not yet.

Something was waiting on that mountain an ending, or maybe something more.