Treasure

Subject: Mortimer | Classif.: Sirath

The best time to plant a tree was 9 billion years ago. When there was a real earth and real soil. When there was no Spire, magic, or immortality. Grounded in true reality, not the visions of flashing life in the final moments of a dying god.

The second-best time is now.

These were the words Tim told himself when he first picked up gardening. Many plants, especially trees, were a lot closer to him in terms of lifespan, unlike humans. Plants have never betrayed him. They stayed in their own lane, minding their own business while providing life to the organisms around them. Much like the Spire. If he had seeds with him, he’d love to plant a flower or two.

But the thoughts he had clung to for so long, vanished. Standing in the middle of the forest, his forest, he had never felt the urge to tear down an entire ecosystem until that moment. The trees, the foliage, everything. Just one massive Blackblood-fueled blast, and the entire way would be clear.

How long had he been searching for Mia? Minutes? Hours? Every step he took felt like an entire year zipping past in an instant. This was worse than looking for a needle in a haystack. At least a needle couldn’t transform. If she could turn into a Demonelk, could she turn into a tree? Logic dictated that it was impossible, since trees lacked souls. But logic wasn’t exactly present inside his panicking brain at that moment.

“Mia! Miaaa!”

He yelled. It felt as if he had called out her name more times in a single hour than the six whole years he had known her. Called out so many times, he had to specifically heal his larynx; the vocal box exerted to the point of failure.

Yell. Cough. Heal.

An endless cycle trapped in aimless wandering. The forest stayed silent, ignoring the desperation of its creator. Ignoring the flood of emotions sweeping through its leaves and grass. All the fear, rage, and worry of the lone figure in the woods was heard by no one but himself.

“Mia! Mi—”

Tim coughed, only to see his reflection in a small puddle of his own blood. A version of him stained in red. His body was failing him. His Gift was failing him.

“Ggrh!”

He tore out his throat. Flesh, gullet, and windpipe wrapped tightly inside his clenched fist, victims of his frustration. Blood dyed his neck and clothes not in crimson, but rage. With every failed breath his exposed trachea took, the fluid all around glowed. Inhaling red. Exhaling black. Why now? Why now? The words could only be spoken in his mind. Why is it failing now?!

It took seconds of concentration for his body to regenerate. What had always been an instantaneous process was turning into a shadow of what it once was. It was barely noticeable at first, but his healing factor betrayed him more and more regularly. Having severed his last form of immortality, age was gradually becoming his enemy. Slow, but certain. One day, he would no longer be able to recover.

But not today.

“MIA!”

His voice was sharp, yet jagged, like a broken blade that had been reforged countless times. It sliced through the air. Shook the ground. Damaged itself. But no matter how many times he let it out, it never found its target.

He ran, hopelessly pleading she was behind a tree or bush close by. The girl had always been incredible at hide-and-seek, but now was not the time, nor was it the place. It was supposed to be a hunt for food. A shapeshifting killer like Mia had no issue taking down some of the toughest, deadliest gangsters in Pitstop. Even against a powerful Immortal like Lynn, his daughter was able to hold her own. And as far as he was aware, these woods had no monsters that would even give her pause.

But what if he was wrong?

His mind raced faster than his feet could ever take him. Leaping between “what ifs” and “hurry up.” It abused him. Taunted him. Blamed him. His inner voice mixed with the dark whispers. In unison, they damned him. Accused him of failing his daughter. Urged him to kill himself. To end it all. With one, swift motion, he could end not just his suffering, but the entire world’s.

“SHUT UP!”

A guttural roar silenced the lies. Veins emerged from under his skin. Wrath from between his labored breaths. Nothing else mattered except the safety of his daughter. And until he found her, any negative thoughts were cast aside and locked away.

Amid all this running and shouting and healing, he stopped. He found her. Her blood.

A bloody handprint against the bark of a tree. He refused to believe it was hers. But his medical expertise, honed through magic, confirmed it belonged to his daughter. His heart cursed the centuries of experience he had as a healer. Fear froze his arteries and skin several times over. His eyes trembled in their sockets.

The only thing holding him together was the knowledge that she had been here.

“Mia!”

No longer was it a scream. It was a prayer. A pathetic squeal. All rage and anger had been replaced by despair. Begging. Bargaining. Anything. Anything, but that.

His body grew heavy. Every step became harder than the last. The thought of losing his daughter weighed him down like a second, impossible force of gravity. Even as the entire weight of the world crushed him, he kept moving forward. Even as more bloodstains filled his vision, he kept moving forward.

Even as he no longer found the strength to breathe, he kept moving forward.

Step by step. Inch by inch. The father pushed forward until he finally found his daughter. Or what was left of her.

“... Mia?”

Existing in front of him was an indescribable entity, something between a human and a planet. Light did not bend around it; it surrendered. Time flowed and froze with each breath the being took, the very concept at its mercy. As if reality itself was unable to give it a state of being, glitching within and outside existence.

And yet, despite all that was and was not there, Tim felt Mia’s presence. Parts of his daughter could be perceived, stretched and misshapened. Closing his eyes, he sensed her soul. Fragmented, fused, and warped between countless others. Every single possible transformation, known and unknown, human, monster, and everything in between, fought to obtain an actual shape in the physical plane.

“... DaA#1-&)^AD?”

Billions of voices responded to him at the same time. They all shared the same emotion. Sadness. They all spoke the same word. “Dad.”

Tim bled from every single orifice. The sheer quantity of information entering his mind was enough to render any sentient being brain-dead. But his regeneration kept up. Barely. 86 billion neurons died and revived over and over again just to decipher the being’s voice.

“Did I do something wrong?” It asked.

“Mia…” Even with all the blood in his throat, his voice was somehow clear. “... Let’s go back.”

“You don’t want me anymore. YOU WANT TO THROW ME AWAY!”

More of Mia fell into place; her physical features barely recognizable amid the chaos. Its voice was the furthest thing from his daughter. Yet, even then, he recognized her anger and sadness.

He approached the entity, his physical form at risk of being phased out of existence. But his steps were light. “Mia, listen—”

“Please don’t throw me away. I’d do anything! Punish me! Hit me! Torture me! If I did something wrong, tell me!”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“If, if it makes you happy, you can even use my body! I can be anyone you want! You can do it with anyone you want! But please, please, PLEASE… don’t throw me away…”

Tim stopped. His heart shattered. Just what kind of abuse did she suffer on The Surface? For her to even suggest this… it was too much.

“I won’t hurt you,” he reassured. He was so close to the impossible vortex, he was being ripped apart every fraction of a second. And yet, he maintained his shape, even as blood, flesh, and bone were ground away.

“Then why? Why do you want to die and leave me? I can be an Immortal, then we’ll—”

“Mia!”

His stern voice echoed throughout the being, gripping it in place. By this point, no Gift or magic could keep him together. The only thing anchoring him in existence was his paternal oath as her father.

“Listen to me,” his voice continued. “Your Dad is a bad guy. All bad guys must die, correct?”

“Bad guys don’t ask those kinds of questions!”

“I have lived for so, so long. I have done many things that could never be forgiven. That is the price I paid for immortality. And I would never, ever, want you to go through that, okay?”

For the first time ever, Mia felt his tears. He had never cried in front of his daughter. Even though his voice was the only thing left, she could hear the tears coming down his immaterial face.

“I know I’m being selfish,” he choked. “But… I don’t have much time left. I don’t want to wither away. Is it too much for me to ask?”

The little girl trapped under the sea of souls sobbed. She was unable to respond. All the agony her father had been through, all those times she saw him attempting suicide in secret, they were too much for her to bear.

The entity began to unravel. The myriad transformations, the innumerable souls, all of them gave way. All of them willingly let go of existence. And when everything returned to place, the silhouettes of a girl and her father were left.

Tim embraced Mia, now in her actual, 14-year-old form. The broken man, having longed for death for so long, rejected it at that moment just to comfort her. To tell her that he would never throw her away, but that they would be together until the inevitable goodbye.

Not a single wound or patch of blood was left on him. He did not want to dirty his daughter with his blood. The sins of his past were to end with him. They would not be passed down like generations before. He swore it in his heart.

Opening his eyes, he noticed an injury on her right hand wrapped around his shoulder. A bite mark. Self-inflicted. Foolish little girl, he thought. As he pulled away, he held his daughter’s bleeding hand between his own, the pain and the wound fading away.

Mia fought back the tears. There were so many things she wanted to say, but none of them could come out. The trouble she must have caused him. And yet, here he was, still taking care of her without a single complaint.

“Actually, I know this is pretty late, but…” Tim said as he reached into his coat. “I got a present for you.”

In his hands was a hooded scarf with a pair of teddy bear ears. It had seen better days. But still, she gratefully accepted it, a genuine smile appearing under the shower of tears.

Tim wrapped the scarf around her neck. The girl, now bigger than before, must have felt cold after being in the woods alone for so long. But with the weathered fabric now covering her neck, she seemed truly at peace.

Even though it looked a bit too childish on her, Mia didn’t mind. Because she finally understood. No matter what form she took or who she became, she would always be his little girl. This was who she really was. This was what she truly wanted. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

They might fight. Misunderstand each other from time to time. But the bond they forged that night could never be broken.

A bond that transcended immortality and mortality.