Petals drifted down from the blossom on the Tree of Eschaton.
“What’s wrong with Blue?”
“The Caldera is so cold all of a sudden.”
“What was that about Port Anell?”
The root of the blossom began to swell, protected by the leaves of the Tree.
“I can’t believe she’s gone.”
“Blue barely says anything. I know he’s in mourning, but I still worry.”
Deep within the nascent fruit, light flickered. Deep within the light, thoughts moved sluggishly. Dreams punctuated by words from the outside, touched by glimpses of a world where time slid by. Sometimes the dreams turned inward, a slow and swirling contemplation. Wind rustled the leaves of the tree.
“Miss Taelah, we have some questions for Mister Blue.”
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“I’ll ask, sweetie, but I don’t know if he’s going to be very helpful right now.”
The sun rose and set.
“What do I tell everyone who’s asking about Port Anell?”
“That they’re lucky. I’ve done worse for less cause.”
Birds flew. Fish swam.
“I’m going to need you to talk to the Leviathans. Uilei-nktik is calling Blue about the refugees.”
“Very well. I suppose it can’t be any more intimidating than dragons! I know she liked Uilei-nktik, anyway.”
Grass grew.
“Aww, they’re adorable!”
“I know! Blue sounded almost normal when he saw them, but any father would be cheered up seeing his kids.”
The fruit grew, sheltered in the boughs of the Tree where the mind and mana within slowly spun, experience and memories condensing inward.
“I’m surprised we haven’t seen any refugees from the Underneath.”
“At this point I doubt anyone is even left down there in this part of the world.”
The sun spun over the Caldera, shining down on the shimmering leaves of the Tree.
“Congratulations! He looks just like you!”
“Thank you. I might ask you to babysit every once in a while. I have nurses for that of course, but the Caldera and the Village are something special.”
The fruit ripened, coiled red and blue under a glossy surface.
“It’s been almost a year. I’m worried.”
“He’s an immortal. Sometimes that alters how you view the world.”
The fruit fell.