NOVEL NEXT Chapter 36: The Emerald Rift
With our decision made, the next morning, the three of us — Jeeves, Kaelen, and myself — headed out from [The Veiled Path]. We left the Sanctum Sentinel standing guard, silent and implacable. Getting to the eastern plains, where the Emerald Rift was supposed to be pulsing with all that wild, vibrant life, took most of the day, as we didn't want to cause huge plumes of earth and shards scattering everywhere travelling at our max.
The land changed from the usual broken rocks around my Sanctum to this bleak stretch of fractured, obsidian-like plains. The ground itself looked like it was made of razor-sharp, glassy bits that crunched when we stepped on them and threw the sun back in our eyes with a blinding glare. Weird, skeletal trees, looking like they were made of blackened iron, clawed at the violet sky. They were all twisted and bare. My [Aether-Woven Greaves] and the [Shadow-Weave Stride] I'd gotten better at using effectively, however, made crossing this rough landscape quick and easy. Jeeves, like always, moved with this liquid, silent grace. He barely left a mark on the fragile ground. Kaelen, his black fur a stark, beautiful contrast to the pale, glittering land, darted ahead. His senses were always sharp, testing the air, his feathery antennae twitching at every new smell or vibration.
We hit the Rift just as the golden sun started to set. It painted the sky in shades of fiery orange and deep violet. The emerald light from the dimensional tear throbbed with this gentle, rhythmic beat, like a giant, sleeping heart. The air around it hummed with this vibrant, almost intoxicating energy. It was thick with the promise of growth and life. It smelled like fresh rain after a long dry spell, like a thousand flowers I'd never smelled before, and like rich, loamy earth. A welcome change from the sterile dust of the Gauntlet or the harsh ozone and metallic tang of the Confluence Zone itself. This energy felt clean, pure, unwarped by the chaotic mix of different realities that made up most of the surrounding Confluence.
I found a sheltered dip in the jagged plains, a safe distance from the Rift's immediate energy. It felt almost overwhelmingly strong up close. I settled into my meditation stance. My [Prime Axiom's Nullifying Veil] was a constant, low-key comfort, hiding my true nature from anyone or anything that might be watching. Jeeves stood a little way off, a silent, watchful guardian, his silver eyes fixed on the pulsing emerald light. His expression was impossible to read. Kaelen pressed up close beside me. His warm body was reassuring, and his own senses were sharply focused on the Rift.
"[Glimpse of a Path]," I thought, focusing my will, my Spirit, on trying to see into this new reality.
The world dissolved. Not in a jarring lurch this time, but like sinking into a warm, life-giving sea of vibrant, emerald light.
When my vision cleared, I was standing in a place so beautiful it almost knocked me over. A world untouched by the harshness of the Confluence. Ancient, massive trees, their bark like intricately carved jade and silver, smooth and cool to the touch, towered hundreds of feet into a sky the color of a perfect, flawless peridot. Sunlight — a single, warm, golden sun this time — filtered down through a thick canopy of leaves. They shimmered in a million shades of green, from pale mint and bright lime to the deepest emerald and shadowed forest green. It created this dappled, always shifting pattern of light and shadow on the rich, fertile forest floor.
The air was alive with the smell of damp earth after a spring rain, unknown exotic flowers whose scent was sweet and incredibly complex, and the clean, pure smell of untouched, ancient wilderness. Strange, musical bird songs, intricate and layered, echoed through the giant trees. The gentle gurgle of unseen streams whispered nearby; their waters sounded cool and inviting. This was an ancient forest, older than I could imagine, brimming with an almost touchable life force that seemed to vibrate in the very air I breathed.
Kaelen, a shimmering shadow beside me in the vision, let out a soft, awestruck huff. His feathery antennae twitched as he took in the new, intoxicating smells. His obsidian fur seemed to soak up the rich green light, his star-markings pulsing faintly. He looked more at peace here than I'd ever seen him.
Jeeves, always the composed one, just raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. His silver eyes took in every detail with keen, analytical interest. "Remarkable," he murmured, his voice unusually soft. "A world exhibiting exceptionally stable biotic energy signatures and a complete absence of our typical Confluence-related entropic decay. Most noteworthy."
We moved carefully. Our stealth skills were maxed out — my Veil, Jeeves' Legendary [Stealth Arts] which made him practically invisible in the dappled shadows, and Kaelen's natural Glimmerfox abilities, beefed up by his Shadow-Star evolution. Every step was a marvel. Huge, glowing fungi in shades of sapphire and amethyst pulsed with soft, internal light at the base of the great trees, casting an ethereal glow. Flowers with petals like spun moonlight and stamen of pure, liquid gold unfurled in hidden clearings, their perfume heady and sweet. Tiny, iridescent insects with wings like stained glass, patterned with intricate, jewel-like designs, flitted between them. It was like a forgotten fairytale, beautiful beyond words, but definitely alien. Its vibrant life followed rules I didn't get yet.
My [True Sight] was a huge help. It spotted strange, edible-looking fruits high up in the canopy — plump, sapphire-blue berries and star-shaped, golden fruits that glowed faintly. Jeeves, with this surprising, almost cat-like agility — a series of effortless leaps up the massive tree trunks — grabbed some samples. He figured they were 'likely non-toxic, exhibiting high nutritional content, and potentially possessing minor restorative or vitality-enhancing properties based on their energetic resonance.' My skill also warned us about some shy, deer-like creatures. Their antlers branched like living coral, and their fur had this shifting, leaf-like camouflage that made them almost impossible to see against the trees. They moved with incredible grace, their large, liquid eyes watching us with cautious curiosity before they bounded away into the deep woods, making almost no sound. There were no obvious threats here, just an overwhelming feeling of ancient, vibrant, and deeply peaceful life.
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After what felt like an hour of careful exploring through this green maze, following a winding, barely-there animal trail carpeted with soft moss, we came out into a vast, sun-dappled clearing.
And there, nestled in the protective embrace of the massive, ancient trees, was a sight that made my breath catch in my throat. It was a vision of serene, impossible beauty.
A village. Or maybe, more like a city in the trees, grown rather than built.
Graceful, sweeping buildings of polished, pale wood — white, gold, and silver — and living, sculpted trees rose organically from the forest floor. Their lines flowed together, blending seamlessly with the wilderness around them. Some homes were built high in the crooks of the immense trees, their platforms held up by living branches, connected by intricately woven rope bridges that swayed gently in the breeze. Spiraling wooden staircases seemed to defy gravity as they wound around massive trunks. Others, larger and grander, maybe community halls or temples, were built in open clearings. Their walls were made from a mosaic of iridescent river stones, luminous mother-of-pearl, and wood that glowed with a soft, internal light. Their roofs were artfully thatched with silvery leaves that shimmered in the dappled sunlight.
Crystalline wind chimes, carved into delicate, abstract shapes, hung from archways. Their delicate, ethereal music drifted on the gentle breeze, a constant, soothing melody. Manicured gardens, overflowing with flowers of impossible beauty and vibrant, edible-looking plants, bloomed everywhere. Clear, bubbling streams were cleverly routed through the settlement in a network of channels, crossed by gracefully arched stone bridges. It was a place of breathtaking artistry and profound, tangible peace.
And people lived there.
Tall, slender figures with skin the color of pale birch bark, warm honey, or even soft spring moss, moved with an unearthly grace through the sunlit clearings. Their features were fine, sharply angled, almost ethereal. They had long, pointed ears that rose delicately from under waterfalls of hair that ranged from spun silver and moonlit gold to the deep green of forest moss or the fiery red of autumn leaves. They wore simple, yet incredibly elegant, tunics and leggings made of woven plant fibers in shades of green, brown, and soft blues, decorated with intricate, embroidered patterns of leaves, vines, and celestial symbols.
Elves. My mind struggled to connect the fantasy creatures from old legends with these very real, very serene, and utterly beautiful beings. [True Sight] registered them as having potent, if subtle, natural Essence signatures, deeply intertwined with the life force of the forest itself.
For many precious minutes of my Glimpse, we just watched from the shadows of the treeline. The elves went about their daily lives with a quiet dignity and an unhurried grace. Some tended to the glowing gardens, their movements like a slow, graceful dance, their hands seeming to coax plants to bloom with just a touch. Others practiced with long, elegant bows made from a living, silvery wood in an open glade. Their arrows flew with impossible accuracy to hit targets I couldn't see. A few sat beneath the ancient trees, their voices raised in songs that were both hauntingly beautiful and achingly sad. Their melodies wove through the air like silver threads, speaking of ancient forests, starlit skies, and maybe, a deep, lasting sorrow. There seemed to be no sign of the Kyorian Empire here, only an aura of ancient, natural magic and a deep, profound connection with nature.
Our time in the Glimpse was running out. Curiosity pushed me forward. There was a clear edge to the main settlement, not a harsh wall of stone or metal, but a living barrier of intricately interwoven thorny vines, dense flowering bushes, and ancient, gnarled trees that pulsed with a subtle, protective, warding energy. A single, arched gateway, wreathed in blooming moonpetal flowers that glowed with a soft, pearly light, offered a way in.
With Jeeves and Kaelen as silent, unseen shadows on either side of me, their presence a reassuring pressure against my senses, my visionary self stepped out from the deep forest towards the gate.
The reaction was instant. And totally unexpected.
An elf, perched almost invisibly high in the branches of a guardian tree near the gate — their green clothes blended perfectly with the leaves — let out a sharp, musical cry. It wasn't aggressive, but pure, startled alarm, a sound like a struck crystal bell. Two more elves, armed with those elegant longbows, materialized from the dappled shadows near the archway as if they'd stepped right out of the light and leaves. Their arrows were nocked and aimed directly at me with terrifying speed and unwavering precision. Their serene, beautiful faces were etched with expressions of profound shock and something else… fear. Raw, almost panicked fear. Their usually calm eyes were wide and staring.
"Hold, stranger!" one of them called out. Their voice was a high, melodic command, but it trembled slightly, giving away their shock. "Do not move! Elder Valerius! Elder Valerius, an… an Outlander! At the Verdant Gate!"
Their eyes, the color of fresh spring leaves and flecked with gold, were wide. They were fixed on me with an intensity that made the hair on my arms stand up. They weren't looking at me with hostility, but with a kind of horrified awe. Like I was a creature of myth, a bringer of some long-dreaded prophecy, a figure from their oldest, darkest tales, suddenly made real right in front of them.