Todd
Unbroken quiet lingered within the air for minutes on end, as the man — Kaareish — who identified himself as a Tender of Roots continued at a calm, slow, yet accomplishing pace forward, leading the ever-tired Weaver through the thick and thin of the deific forest. Trees flanked them on every side, and dominated the skylines as they towered high into the air above, yet their height should not let what was at their base be detracted from; ethereal, sprawling roots of a translucent and tendril-like nature stretched from miles on end, interweaved and directly interlocked with the ashen roots of the forest's manifold trees. The translucent roots, themselves, bore potent amounts of the azure energy which fluxed through the trees, yet strangely possessed a more 'primal' nature than the latter — it was, perhaps, as if the azure glow originated not from the *Trees,* But from the *Roots,* Themselves, the trees only borrowing from their divine glow. 

Nurtured by those translucent roots of lucid nature, everything that lived within this forest was connected in one way or another, and demonstrative of the dreamlike nature of the azure-blue glow, no matter how subtle. Sixteen-petalled flowers in mass abundance sprung forth from the infinitely-complex network of underground roots, each petal combining to form a kaleidoscopic image that flared with cosmic grandeur, azure lights flickering from their pistils in an enrapturing display which only drew its witnesses farther from the memories of the familiar, and deeper into the presence of the unknown. Even the very grass which carpeted the ground was ethereal in nature, possessing a crystalline clarity that made it appear like glasswork sprouting from the ground. Utterly alien in nature, the dynamic and awe-inspiring appearance of the landscape would be quick to overtake the Weaver's memories of the bleak snowfield that preceded it.

***Here is the nucleus of dreams.***
_ _

```ini
[ "𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞—" ]```

Kaareish stopped in his steps, breaking the the silence of several-moments, his clarity severing the Weaver from what dreamlike thoughts may entrance him in his tour of the forest. As he spoke, there was a subtle sense of forebodance — one which would thrice amplify as he continued in his following statement, which, alone, seemed to make the entire world around the two go completely silent.

**```ini
[ "𝚠𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚢." ]```**






...




Then, he continued forward. With, or without the Weaver.
Surely he could not just stop here, however.

As he continued forward, the atmosphere seemed to hang with the dread of the warning that he granted only moments earlier. The divine beauty of the blue forest around them was replaced with the presence of unearthly disquiet, yet its intense blue glow did not waver; the azure of the forest, in fact, only grew in strength. Like heartbeats, the lights pulsed bright, then dimmed in slight, and there was now granted an inexplicable sense of cognizant life to the already-present lucidity of the azure. Heresy could practically be felt tangibly fluxing through the air around them...
_ _

Kaareish progresses further through the forest.

Sixteen-petalled flowers are replaced with unnatural, thin, and sharp pillars of obsidian-hued crystal formations, rising from the ground as though they were imitating the growth of plantlife. There is no more grass, and instead there is an infinite, vaporous darkness that shrouds the floor beneath the Tender, Kaareish.

Kaareish progresses further through the forest.

The trees are scarred. Like wounds of a blade sinking deep into their ashen flesh, they are covered with spots that were once bare and sore, now grown over with paler wood twice as thick. The azure leaves of the forest canopy flow in waves, each flowing inward — toward a singular point, further through the forest.

*Kaareish progresses further through the forest.*

It now feels as though they are within what is within what is within what is...
*Sempiternity* Is a strange concept to wrap one's head around. To put it simply, it felt like being in a dream, within a dream, within yet another dream. Reality began to grew dangerously distant; heresy fluxes in concerning densities through the surrounding atmosphere.

*__Kaareish progresses further through the forest.__*

*The sound of a silver chime which continuously echoes in a persistence for a longing for what once was now resonates eternally within one's ears.*
They finally reach the center of the forest — where the waves of the leaves' flow meet at a singular point. A tower, in a small lee, deep, deep, deep within the forest. A small tower, not unlike the one the Weaver saw, earlier, in the snowfield, and one utterly overgrown with both the strange, parasitic obsidian crystal-growth, and the azure root which dominated the forest landscape around it.
_ _

```ini
[ "𝙽𝚘𝚠..." ]
[ "𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎?" ]```

It was as if he was uncertain, himself, why the Weaver was here. Why he brought him here, why he, too, arrived at the same destination as *Those other two.*
The outsider to the *Vektet* Exerted himself far beyond what his stamina would allow. He was led far, far, far into the depths of a forest, for so long that his already tired body could hardly keep itself upright. And, yet... There was no reason for him to do so. No *Apparent* Reason, that was.

```ini
[ "𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚎?" ]
[ "𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎?" ]
[ "𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚗𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚎?" ]```

He turned to the Weaver, who, now, could only see the robed figure of the sagacious man known as Kaareish, and the figure of the glimmering, overgrown tower of heretical beauty behind himself.

```ini
[ "𝙸𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎..." ]
[ "𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚎? 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢?" ]```
Gerald
He could hardly process what he was looking at, what he was living through.

..

..But, he knew why he was here, he just couldn't utter it out.

The Weaver collapsed, the warning his instincts gave him turning out true. His legs could no longer support his weight, and his mind was starting to wear and tear, his thoughts disappearing behind a haze as all he could think of was.. Rest.
 
He was starting to fade in and out of consciousness, the world around him starting to distort more than it already has. He couldn't tell the difference between a made up world in his mind and the forest he was in. It didn't seem real. Nothing did. What if it really wasn't? He was just dead, and this was where he would be for the rest of his life..?

..He put a hand in his left pocket.

The three fingers he ripped off were still there.

With what bit of strength left he had in his arms, he painfully rose himself up to a kneeling position, taking a deep breath.

*"I.." "..I need to revive a boy back to life."*
*"This isn't about what I need.. It's about what I want.."*

*"..I don't.."*

He fell silent. His arms were starting to tremble.


And so, he willfully gave in to his exhaustion.


*I don't want to leave him dead..*

..He finally collapsed on the floor, drifting out of consciousness.
Todd
The glittering azure gem of the man's blindfold flickered in its luminosity. Kaareish opened his mouth subtly with the slightest visible manifestations of shock as he witnessed the man begin to collapse, yet swiftly shrouded whatever faint emotions manifest themselves on his face with the sleeve of his robe, hiding his lips and his lower face with its draping white silk. While the Weaver collapsed unconscious, the peculiar Root-Tender seemed most careful about his demeanor and his appearance, and, even in the witness of one whose eyes were soon to close, he hid his shock.

An azure energy flickers about the Tender, and he manifest behind the collapsing man. The wearied outsider to the *Ark* Would collapse into his arms, and Kaareish's eyeless visage would peer down toward him, a subtly concerned demeanor surfacing in his expression. A perturbed hum rang silently in his throat as he found his conversation with the stranger cut short. Now, there would be none to hear his questions — none to take in his knowledge...

```ini
[ "𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛." ]
[ "𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑," ]
The Tender spoke, slowly lowering the Weaver's unconscious body lower to the ground, his ability to hone in on one's thoughts revealed to the unhearing witness.

[ "𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚜...?" ]```

Kaareish spoke in questioning. A questioning of his response; a questioning of how he handled the situation; a question of his very own nature. He questioned not the unconscious Weaver, but only himself. Neither was there any sense of rhetoric in his question — it was genuine, as he pondered with a clear and resonant hum in his throat. 
_ _

```ini
[ "...𝙽𝚘, 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞." ]
[ "𝙼𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑." ]```

The tender slowly lowered the body of the Weaver, laying him to the ground. As he spoke, dismissing of whatever thoughts of regret he may have had, he lifted his left hand to his brow, his thumb tucking beneath his adorned blindfold. The digit lingered there, hesitating for a moment on end, as the man lightly bowed his head. Finally, he lifted the silk from his eyes and raised it beyond his brow—

*—so that he might see with his own eyes.*

A pale, light turquoise,
Two eyes with a deep, sharp erudition in their shape, and peering down through one's very heart and thoughts.
Eyes that were yet incomplete; eyes underset and surrounded by the burrowing form of the same ethereal root that grew throughout the forest around them. The root of *Lucidity:* The *Veirok.* It grew throughout his upper face like a parasite, yet one that had been embraced by its host — its azure-blue glow and its transcendent nature was nurtured by the very dreams and thoughts of the mind through which it burrowed. Yet, it was, again, *Incomplete.* They wrapped round and round his two eyes, but had not yet reached the fullness of their growth — they had not yet burrowed through his pearly orbs of vision, and had not yet superseded his measly human sight. This incompletion of symbiosis was the reason for which he hid his face. It was a reason for *Shame.*

He could only now reveal them, for there was no waking witness to see them.
_ _

```ini
[ "𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕." ]
[ "𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖'𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚍𝚘𝚖." ]
[ "𝚄𝚗𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍..." ]

[ "...𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕?" ]

[ "𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍." ]
[ "𝐓𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡." ]```

The Weaver would not hear, yet such would Kaareish dictate. There was a powerful conclusiveness in his words, as he slowly — and surprisingly effortlessly — cradled up the unconscious body of the outsider. In a mirage of azure, the two were transported throughout the forest in the blink of an eye. 

Their destination lied in the tower shortly in the distance. The place where the trees converged — the place of a distant heresy, where an impassable truth was once discovered.