The Beautiful Ones

The ship descended into a world that looked like an emerald jewel from orbit. Vast forests stretched across the surface, their canopies shimmering with hues of green so vivid they seemed almost unreal. Rivers wound like silver threads through the trees, and the air shimmered with pollen that glowed faintly in the sunlight.

They landed in a clearing where the grass was soft and springy, dotted with flowers that opened and closed as though breathing. The moment Tanuki stepped out, the air hit him. It was cool, fragrant, alive. It was the opposite of Pyrrhos’s suffocating heat, and for a moment he simply stood there, letting the calm wash over him.

Atlas inhaled deeply, grinning. “Finally. A planet that doesn’t want to roast us alive.”

NV raised an eyebrow. “Don’t get comfortable. Pretty places are usually the most dangerous.”

Tanuki crouched, brushing his fingers across the grass. It rippled under his touch, and from the trees came a rustling sound. Small figures emerged, no taller than his knee. They wore masks of tree bark carved into simple faces, their bodies covered in moss and leaves. Their eyes glowed faintly through the slits of their masks.

One of them tilted its head, then scampered forward, tugging at Tanuki’s cloak. Another darted behind Atlas, untying the strap on his hammer and letting it clatter to the ground. A third leapt onto NV’s shoulder, tapping her mask with tiny wooden fingers before vanishing into the underbrush with a mischievous giggle.

“They’re… spirits,” Tanuki said softly, watching as more appeared, circling them in playful curiosity.

Atlas bent down to pick up his hammer, scowling. “Spirits that think they’re comedians.”

NV brushed her shoulder where the spirit had perched, her expression unreadable. “They’re testing us. Seeing if we’re threats.”

The spirits began to mimic them, one dragging a stick like Atlas’s hammer, another holding a leaf like a dagger, a third pretending to punch the air with a glowing pebble. Their laughter was like wind chimes, light and musical.

Tanuki couldn’t help but smile. “They’re not hostile. Just… playful.”

One spirit tugged at his hand, pulling him toward the trees. The others followed, darting ahead and then back again, as if leading them somewhere. The forest grew denser, shafts of sunlight piercing through the canopy. Flowers opened as they passed, releasing clouds of glowing pollen that drifted like fireflies.

At last, they reached a grove where a massive tree stood, its trunk wide enough to house a village. The spirits gathered around it, their masks glowing faintly. At the base of the tree was a hollow, and inside it glimmered a cluster of crystals, their light pulsing in rhythm with the spirits’ laughter.

Tanuki stepped closer, his HUD identifying the material: Sylvanite. Rare. Said to hold the memory of the forest.

The spirits danced around him, tugging at his cloak, urging him to take it. But when he reached out, they scattered, their laughter turning sharper, almost teasing. One spirit darted forward, snatched the crystal, and vanished into the branches above. Another appeared behind him, holding it up before darting away again.

Atlas groaned. “Great. A game of tag.”

NV smirked faintly. “Better than another boss fight.”

Tanuki looked up at the spirits, their glowing eyes peering down from the branches. They wanted him to chase them, to play by their rules. For once, he didn’t feel dread at the thought. He tightened his grip on his daggers, not to fight, but to leap into the trees after them.

The forest echoed with laughter as the chase began.

The woodland spirits scattered into the branches, their laughter echoing through the grove. Tanuki leapt after them, his daggers flashing as he used them to hook into bark and swing upward. Atlas grumbled but followed, his heavy armor making the climb awkward, while NV moved with practiced ease, her gauntlet glowing faintly as she vaulted from branch to branch.

The spirits darted ahead, always just out of reach, their bark masks glowing faintly in the dappled light. One held the Sylvanite crystal aloft like a prize, waving it before vanishing into a hollow trunk. Another appeared behind Tanuki, tugging at his cloak before scampering away with a mischievous giggle.

“They’re toying with us,” Atlas muttered, nearly slipping as a branch bent under his weight.

“They’re testing us,” NV corrected, her eyes narrowing. “This isn’t about the crystal. It’s about whether we’ll play their game.”

Tanuki landed on a wide branch, his breath steady. He looked up at the spirits, their glowing eyes peering down from the canopy. “Then we play.”

The chase turned into a trial of agility and wit. The spirits led them through twisting tunnels of roots, across bridges of woven vines that swayed dangerously, and into clearings where illusions shimmered and phantoms of paths appeared that vanished when stepped upon. At one point, Atlas charged forward only to crash into a wall of leaves that dissolved into laughter. NV nearly caught a spirit, only for it to split into three identical copies, each darting in a different direction.

Tanuki began to notice patterns. The spirits weren’t random; they mirrored his movements, responding to his choices. When he feinted left, they darted right. When he slowed, they slowed. He realized they were waiting for him to understand, to stop treating it as a hunt and start treating it as a dance.

He sheathed his daggers and raised his hands, moving deliberately. The spirits tilted their heads, then mimicked him, their tiny bodies swaying in rhythm. He stepped forward, and they parted, revealing the spirit holding the Sylvanite. It hopped down, placing the crystal in his hands.

The grove brightened, shafts of sunlight piercing the canopy. The spirits gathered around, their laughter softer now, almost approving. One tugged at Tanuki’s sleeve, then tapped his chest gently before vanishing into the trees.

Atlas dropped heavily onto a root, wiping sweat from his brow. “All that for a rock.”

NV smirked faintly. “Not just a rock. A memory. They gave it to him because he listened.”

Tanuki turned the Sylvanite over in his hands. It pulsed faintly, not with heat or power, but with something gentler, like the heartbeat of the forest itself. For the first time, a shard didn’t feel like a burden. It felt like a gift.

As they made their way back to the ship, the spirits followed at a distance, their laughter fading into the wind. Tanuki glanced back once, catching sight of their glowing eyes watching from the branches. He felt a strange warmth in his chest, a reminder that not every world was built on violence and ruin. Some still held wonder.

Back aboard the ship, Atlas leaned back in his chair. “So. We’ve got a sea monster’s heart, a volcano’s core, and now a forest’s memory. What’s next?”

Tanuki didn’t answer. He stared at the Sylvanite, its glow reflecting in his eyes. He could feel the shards resonating faintly with one another, threads of connection weaving tighter. Celeste’s warnings pressed at the edges of his thoughts again, sharper now. The storm wasn’t just coming. Piece by piece, he was carrying it with him.