Chapter 2: Whispers Along the Rootroad

The man moved like a shadow through the endless flower field, his sword swaying gently at his waist. Petals of soft gold and silver brushed against his legs as he walked. 

He stopped beside one bloom that had begun to wilt, its light dimming. Kneeling, he placed a hand near its stem.

“Rest easy,” he murmured. “Your time has come.” He rose without another word and continued down the invisible path only he seemed to see, the flowers parting silently before him.

Back at the campfire, the golden light of the Tree still painted the sky even as dawn crept in. Leon stretched and stood, brushing sand from his clothes.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “Let’s go.”

Everyone rose except Grandpa Yuna, who remained seated by the dying embers, his old eyes calm.

“I’m too old for this wandering,” he said with a soft chuckle. “I’ll rest here and keep the fire company.”

Yuna hesitated, glancing between the group and the old man. “Are you sure? We could explore together…”

Leon placed a gentle hand on Yuna’s shoulder. “Let him be. He’s earned his peace.” Then, turning to Grandpa Yuna, he added with a small smile, “Take care of the camp, old man. Keep it warm for when we return.”

Grandpa Yuna simply laughed, the sound warm and tired. “Go on, then. I’ll be right here.” Tsuma pumped a fist lightly into the air. “Alright! South it is!”

The group fell into step behind Leon, who led them away from the shore and along the glowing roots of the colossal Tree. The path wound through strange, luminous landscapes 

patches of cosmic dust that shimmered underfoot and fields of flowers that glowed faintly, as if remembering every soul that had passed.

“This is gonna be a long walk,” Leon said after a while, his voice carrying over the quiet. Soia groaned dramatically. “Ah man, I thought the city was nearby…”

Tsuma fell into step beside Yuna, her expression soft. “Hey… you helped me feel a little better last night. Maybe I can return the favor. Tell me about your past life?” Yuna gave a small, surprised smile. “How sweet of you.”

She laughed lightly. “If you insist… I wasn’t always Tsuma, you know. In that life, I was just an ordinary farmer’s daughter. We had a decent field. My mother… I never knew her. Father said she died right after I was born.”

Yuna listened quietly as they walked, the soft crunch of their steps mixing with the distant rustle of leaves high above.

“Then one day, he came,” Tsuma continued, her voice warming. “Kaine Magnus. A knight. Brave, loud, and kind. He visited our village often and always found reasons to talk to me. 

He claimed the bench beneath the old apple tree was his favorite spot in the whole kingdom.” She smiled faintly at the memory. “It was just an excuse, of course.”

Her expression softened further. “One day, he buried his sword in the ground in front of me said he’d give up knighthood if it meant staying by my side. As if the gods themselves were jealous, a terrible disease took him soon after. 

For months he lay in bed, growing weaker. Then he asked one last thing: to be taken to that same bench under the apple tree.”

Her smile faded. “He used every bit of strength he had left to walk there with me. His final moments were spent on that bench, with me beside him. After he was gone… I just sat there. Days turned into weeks. 

I forgot to eat, forgot to speak. One day my eyes closed, and when they opened again, I was drifting in the cosmic sea.”

She fell silent for a long moment, the weight of the memory hanging between them.

“I think he’s somewhere in this afterlife too,” she said finally, voice quiet but determined. “I just have to find him.” Yuna nodded gently. “I’m pretty sure you will.”

The sky had begun to darken by the time Leon called for them to stop. They had reached the edge of a high cliff, and in the distance, faint lights twinkled on the horizon the southern city, still far away but no longer invisible.

“This is a nice spot,” Soia said, already gathering dry branches that glowed faintly when snapped.

They built the campfire together, its warm crackle soon filling the night air as the group settled around it. The massive Tree loomed behind them, its golden veins pulsing like a slow heartbeat.

“Soia,” Yuna said after a while, “now you tell us about your past life.” “Yeah, I wanna know too,” Tsuma added with an encouraging smile.

Soia laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Huh? Me? It’s boring, let’s not...” “Come on,” Leon said gently. “Just tell us.”

Soia’s smile slowly faded. “Alright… I was a student once. I had lots of friends. I was the one who made everyone laugh. Then one day… I was falsely accused. They said I took photos of girls and shared them online. 

Everyone turned against me so fast. I thought my friends would stand by me, but they didn’t. Even my parents didn’t believe me.” The only sound for a moment was the popping of the fire.

“Nothing hurt as much as the call I made after that,” Soia continued, voice growing quieter. “I went up to the school rooftop and phoned my sister who was overseas. 

I thought she’d believe me… she didn’t. And then… my feet just moved on their own. The next thing I remember is falling.”

He stopped, staring into the flames. “We believe you, Soia,” Leon said softly. The others nodded. Tsuma reached over and gave his shoulder a light squeeze.

“Thank you,” Soia whispered, his eyes glassy but his mouth still managing a small smile. “Really… thank you.”

The mood shifted again as Tsuma turned to Leon. “Now you, Leon. Tell us about yourself.”

Leon stared into the fire for a long moment before speaking. “When I was twelve, my parents left the world. I was alone on the streets of the kingdom, starving. 

There were nights I wanted to end it… but I didn’t even have the strength for that. One rainy evening, I saw a little girl sitting under a short bridge, shivering from the cold. 

My first thought was to keep walking… but I couldn’t. I went over with the brightest smile I could manage. ‘Hey, little one, what are you doing here?’”

“She looked up and said, ‘I’m hungry, brother.’ That word… brother… it made something in me wake up. Suddenly it felt like my responsibility to take care of her.”

Leon’s voice grew softer. “I told her I was hungry too and took her hand. We walked even though I could barely stand. I spotted an apple tree and told her to wait while I got some. I threw a stone… missed the apples and broke a window instead. 

A drunk man came out swinging a stick, chasing us. I grabbed her hand and ran. She was laughing the whole time, like it was the best game ever.” He paused, a faint smile touching his lips at the memory.

“I asked her name. ‘Ellina,’ she said. She was laughing so hard I ended up carrying her. For a moment… it was fun. Then she stopped laughing and started breathing heavily. I put my hand on her forehead she was burning with fever. 

My arms were ice cold from the rain, so I kept them there to cool her. We ended up back under that bridge. She fell asleep on my chest. That was all I could do.”

Tears glistened on Leon’s cheeks in the firelight. “Only if I had found her sooner… maybe I could have saved her.” Tsuma leaned forward gently. “You tried. That’s what matters.” Yuna nodded. “We should rest now.”

In the deep quiet of midnight, Yuna’s eyes opened. The fire had burned low. He saw Leon sitting alone at the cliff’s edge, bathed in moonlight. Yuna started to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

Far below the cliff, two faint glowing figures walked together a boy who looked like a younger Leon, and a little girl holding his hand. They moved slowly through the flowers, peaceful and unhurried.

“At least this version of me… got more time with her,” Leon whispered, tears falling freely now.

“Leon…” Yuna said softly.

“I think that version died with her that same day,” Leon continued, voice thick. “I could have died too. Then maybe I would have been with her…”

Yuna stepped closer. “What you did was the best you could. You gave her joy in her last moments.”

Leon wiped his face. “Yeah… I know. I just need some time alone. You should sleep.” Yuna hesitated, then nodded. “Just don’t forget to sleep yourself.”

Far away, back at the original campsite, the fire still flickered. Grandpa Yuna sat in the same spot, smiling peacefully as a tall figure with a sword at his waist approached.

“So you finally came,” Grandpa Yuna said warmly. The swordsman stopped before him. “Don’t worry. You will take care of my garden from the stars now.”

Grandpa Yuna tilted his head, listening. “Every single flower, every single plant here was once a soul,” the figure continued. 

“When their seventeen thousandth cycle ends, I give them a new purpose to make the afterlife garden beautiful. You will join the stars and watch over it.” Grandpa Yuna’s smile widened, peaceful and accepting. “Gladly,” he said.

To be continued.