The further that Argrave and his siblings descended down into the cavern that Lindon directed them to enter, the less things made sense. The first crack in the image came when Argrave questioned why they hadn’t run into seawater, as the stairs that had been carved hadn’t been steep enough to avoiding breaching the island and running into water. Then, when Argrave looked ahead and behind, trying to gauge it... he could’ve sworn the stairs grew steeper by several magnitudes.

Then, he questioned how the Gilderwatchers, being snakes, had carved stairs at all. Next he knew, all beneath his feet was a slope, rough-hewn and marked by distinct pathways. He asked his companions, and Rook and Elenore both told him that it had always been a slope. Orion, however, still saw stairs. And when Argrave reasoned Lindon might’ve had human craftsmen carve stairs with another trick of the mind, they appeared again. Try as Argrave might, he couldn’t remember what the slope had looked like.

“There’s something off about this place,” Argrave voiced. “Something to do with our perceptions, our minds. Rook, have you noticed anything? Anything at all?”

“Nothing in particular, no.” Rook glanced around, searching for anything.

Argrave was disquieted, but he didn’t stop moving forward. Eventually, Orion said that he saw light up ahead. Argrave saw it too, before long; a rich, golden light that gave one the impression of warmth by sight alone. As they continued toward it, that warmth was confirmed. And when they finally reached the place whence the light came, Argrave’s mind felt flipped on its head once again.

Ahead, there was a verdant grassland with the blades of rich green rising up to the ankles. At the center of it all was a giant tree, rising taller even than the enormous trees of the Bloodwoods. It dwarfed the tallest skyscrapers Argrave had ever seen, and had a huge crown of leaves atop its head. On the thousand branches, Gilderwatchers every bit as large as Vasquer hung, coiled around and up its branches and its trunk like vines. The only description that sufficed was to call it a tree of life, and it seemed to shine as if projecting the golden light all of them felt. He could see the snakes moving, interacting, in the far distance. Dozens more wandered the grasslands.

It didn’t make sense that such a place could be beneath the earth, not when their trek had been so short. Argrave looked behind at the stairs, only to realize they were gone.

“Rook?!” Argrave demanded. “The stairs, where...?”

The black eyes of the god stared at Argrave in confusion. His next words brought Argrave chills. “What stairs?”

The extent of things finally sunk into Argrave’s head. He stayed and watched for a while

#####

Argrave watched for a long, long time, his feet frozen into place as he wavered between disbelief and awe. The majority of the Gilderwatchers moved serenely through the short grass in steady advance toward the tree. In time, only one persisted anywhere near Argrave’s group. It cut across the field, displaying tremendous agility and quiet. Even as the other feathered serpents wound around the gigantic tree looming above them all, this one came to them.

This snake... male or female, Argrave couldn’t tell. He was reminded precisely how terrifying the Gilderwatchers truly were confronted with one that didn’t have a motherly demeanor. It must’ve been a mile long, maybe more. Slowly, that huge body coiled around like a spring, and its head slowly lowered toward the three of them. The golden feathers aback its head rippled with both the force of the wind and the movement of his body.

“What’s it doing?” Rook questioned. “Should I be doing something?”

Argrave held his hand up to inform that Rook should stay, then walked forward cautiously. He held his hand out, waiting for the Gilderwatcher to come and meet him. When its colossal snout met his hand, he felt a familiar torrent rush into his head. Vasquer’s presence of mind was often warm, gentle, yet this sensation was reckless, free-spirited, and bold.

Constant queries flooded into Argrave’s head, each without words but with one singular subject: Vasquer. Argrave revealed all that he knew, and as the story passed from his mind to the confines of the giant snake’s, he felt a torrent of reactions; sorrow for what had been done to her, rage at those who had kept her captive, frustration at himself, and a bitter gratefulness toward Argrave for helping her. He felt the tinge of something behind each of these that confirmed who precisely this Gilderwatcher was. He had no name. Names were foreign to most of them, as all was conveyed by their mind alone, and they needed not words to differentiate between each other.

Argrave looked over to Elenore and Orion. “He’s Vasquer’s father.”

Next came the Gilderwatcher’s explanation of what this place was. At first, the images that pervaded Argrave’s mind made little sense. The place was neither here nor there, and had no beginning nor end. As Argrave searched through the information, bits and pieces slotted into place. This area wasn’t a physical location. It was one born of the mind—a collective remembrance and unified desire both. It was a grand meeting place, where all of them combined their consciousnesses together to birth the great tree at the center.

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Gilderwatchers, like most snakes, were solitary creatures. They didn’t live in packs or groups, and even families seldom stuck together longer than it took for children to be born. This was their once-in-a-millennia meeting, where all of them met and combined their consciousnesses under Lindon’s watchful eye to form the Tree of Being. And through this melding, some among the Gilderwatchers made that colossal tree bear fruit. It bestowed some precious few with a Fruit of Being, born of the memories and willpower of all the snakes working in tandem. That fruit was capable of countless things, but foremost among its capabilities was creating new Gilderwatchers.

Argrave retracted his hand, looking at the tree differently.

“What?” Elenore insisted, looking at Argrave. “You’ve gone pale. What’ve you seen?”

“I think…” He inhaled deeply, the words feeling a little distasteful on his tongue. “I think it’s a snake orgy, Elenore.”

“Is now the time for jokes?!” Elenore chided him, but when Argrave didn’t respond, she hesitantly stepped forward and touched Vasquer’s father in turn. Soon enough, she was similarly pale, but that quickly faded. “You idiot. It’s much more decent than you’re making it out to be.”

“I thought this was a family reunion,” Orion commented, hefting the golden cube in his hands. “Yet they all seem to be asleep on that tree.”

“He wants us to come to the tree,” Elenore continued. Of all of them, she was the one to speak to Vasquer most—she was most accustomed to the mental magics the Gilderwatchers used, and had her willpower built up by constant use of Lira’s blessing. After a time, she pulled back her hand. “He posits we might die if we attempt to enter it alone. But the three of us, together, can wander through the tree as any of the Gilderwatchers do.”

Argrave looked at Elenore and Orion in turn. “What is he suggesting?”

Elenore looked like she was trying to wrap her head around it, herself. She explained without conviction, “We would be three bodies, yet one mind. One person, made out of the three of us.”

#####

Argrave, Elenore, and Orion stood at the foot of the giant tree towering above. He couldn’t remember how long it had taken to walk to it. Hundreds of miles wide, hundreds of miles tall… it didn’t feel like it was something that could exist, but Argrave perceived it as clear as day. Now that he had come closer, its brown bark seemed golden. Countless Gilderwatchers coiled around it, their eyes closed as they drifted into the most peaceful sleep Argrave could imagine.

Vasquer’s father remained behind them, towering. Elenore received some last bit of wisdom from him, and then withdrew her hand. The titanic snake moved around them, then slowly wrapped around the base of the tree. Before it even he seemed small, yet his scales clung to its rough, uneven surface, and he vanished out of sight in a few moments. When next Argrave saw him, he tightened around a branch and drifted off to sleep.

“Should we really…?” Argrave asked her. “What if we, you know… what if the three of us… a little snake?” Even as Argrave said it, he felt so absurd that he couldn’t conjure the proper words.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” Elenore shook her head slowly, staring at the tree.

Argrave leaned in and whispered, “Need I remind you that’s precisely what Vasquer did to the founder of the kingdom?!”

Elenore looked at him. “It was different. Vasquer was exiled from this place—that’s one of the reasons she’s not here, today, nor even knowledgeable about Lindon’s existence. She employed a different method, though one with a similar root.”

“I think we should do it,” Orion contributed. “It sounds intriguing. Perhaps it might help me expand my understanding of this life the three of us share.”

Argrave looked between the three of them. He had shared much with his siblings. He trusted them with his life—but to do this was to trust them with quite literally everything. Having one’s mind invaded was a frightening prospect, but this? It was far beyond. As Argrave debated, another took action.

“To hell with it.” Elenore held out her hand. “Come on. Grab hold.”

“You’re serious?” Argrave looked at her in total surprise. She was ostensibly the least trusting of them.

“I’m terrified, is what I am. I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff that leads only into the abyss. But I know that we need allies, and I know you want to help the Alchemist. And above all… I most simply want to know what’s awaiting us in there.” She shot her hand forward more urgently. “So, let’s go, before the nerves change my mind.”

“Rook,” Argrave called out. “Watch the box.”

“Sure. Right,” the deity nodded. “I’ll just stand around while you three go on your trip, whatever it might be.”

Orion handed Rook the box, and the god took it in hand, watching them. Orion put his hand atop Elenore’s, and then Argrave completed the hand-pile.

“Alright,” said Elenore, taking a deep breath. “Vasquer’s father showed me how. It’ll happen when I touch the tree.”

She reached out gingerly. Argrave watched her hand with his breath held, and the moment her nail touched the bark, we awoke.