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The thinning forest made way to a bright shell beach, its many minuscule iridescent fragments scattering the day's rays across a glistening lustre. The colourful beach stretched out unnaturally, dipping lower than any reasonable sea level and pushing further out than any reasonable shorefront. As the beach continued out and down, it too grew less empty. Corpses strewn over the basin floor by the thousands, squinting far to the great yonder, by the hundred-thousands. Minnows to sharks, whales to rays, it was an ocean without water, a sea of rot. The decay rank in the air, the angry day star baking an insufferable odour, flesh seared to the shell sands, bones ivory stained and brittle. Even at the boundary of water and sand, the desolate beach could not be contained; pushing outward, it forced the ocean to give way to a dry path of wasted sea life carving into the horizon.

The otherworldly wrongness of the not-beach disturbed her; she curled her bare toes into the rich Golden Country soil as if that weakly moulding dirt somehow anchored her to the understandable real. A wizened hand pressed upon tree bark to comfort in the vital greenery that surrounded her. She was not on that beach yet, and if all went well, she wouldn't have to stay long. The world's edge was not a place to visit lightly.

She unwound her toes from the soil's calming grip and stepped forth. The elderly woman slowly trodded onto the beach, her hands grasping her great cane. It was an odd cane, its slender ebony pitch staff rising higher than she were tall and then topped at the tip with a bulbous mound of black fur. The lengthy fur, wild and growing into thick textured strands that coiled together in uneven rope-like tendrils. Despite the clear, hefty mass of the thick furry coils, they danced about as if billowing in a non-existent wind. The old woman's spine was so twisted she pushed nearly her whole weight into the cane to complete the tripedal stance of old age.

Despite how far from home she was, the woman looked quite fitting in the disturbing ocean bed surrounded by death stranding. Her damp skin, patched with moss, sagged on her haggard body. The line of flesh to cloth ambiguous as the mossy skin meddled with slimy vines and thick bark to illude some sort of murky dress. On the seafloor, her long brownish-green hair gave the guise of dried kelp, draping over her face, completely obscuring it save for the sharp needlepoint nose poking through.

She hadn't wanted to visit the edge of the world, but she was running out of places to search, and not even rumours of impossible holes could deter her anymore. That tiny flying bug-person assured her that it never stole her precious scion. Some of the forest spirits mentioned feeling its presence at one point but would always say that it had long since left their territory. The elderly woman had scoured the entirety of Trammel multiple times over at this time yet still hadn't tracked it down. They were approaching the critical point now; if she couldn't return it home soon, then the one whom she dedicated herself to would not survive. She was desperate, and out of ideas, and so she came here.

Deep into the trenches of the dried ocean, the elderly woman cleared her throat and spoke, voice crackling, "Umm, excuse me?" She didn't speak in any discernable language, her voice simply carrying the nature of communication itself. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if anyone has seen a particular fruit?" She respectfully asked out to the beach, though she only had the deceased sea life as accompaniment, and so, she received no response.

"Um, it's a little small and has a cute little spiral birthmark; it's a very kind fruit that always says please and thank you and…" The elderly woman stopped her gushing praise of the lost fruit and self-consciously looked around the lifeless beach. "I'm sorry if I look a little scary to some of you, but I mean no harm."

She waited for a reply, but just like the rest of the responses she received, they were only spoken with howling winds and distant waves. "Oh! How rude of me. I should have introduced myself first. You all can call me Granny Ayah."

Granny Ayah paused again, waiting patiently for a non-existent reply. She nervously fiddled with her furry cane and curled her toes, bunching up a pile of broken shells below her feet. "You see, I'm quite worried about the fruit… I just want to bring it back home. Everyone there misses the fruit dearly." Granny Ayah looked down to her cold bare feet.

"We have a lot of birthdays to catch up on." A whistle of wind blew her raggedy hair astray, tossing a few strands into her open mouth. "ptui- I guess I'll have a lot of baking to look forward to. That's my duty as a granny, don't you think?"

Just when she thought she was doomed to silence, a squeaky voice shyly cut through the howling wind. "… am I invited?"

Excited to finally get a response, Granny Ayah straightened as tall as her twisted spine would allow and exclaimed. "Of course, of course! Our little fruit loves making new friends, especially with your kind. The more the merrier!"

Not wanting to seem threatening, Granny Ayah parted the hair out of her face to reveal her great toothless smile and the swamp lily blooming from the patch of moss covering where a human would have had eyes. She spoke out to the empty beach with a renewed vigour, knowing that somewhere there was a listener. "I just need to find the little fruit first. You must have been all over the world, have you seen the fruit?"

"I don't know the fruit."

Granny Ayah's smile shrunk away along with her shoulders. "Oh."

"But I know someone who might."

She quickly regained her energy. "Can you take me to this someone?"

A pause lingered long enough that Ayah worried her shy companion had left, until finally, it meekly responded, "…Okay."

Granny Ayah noticed a stirring in a small half-decomposed fish carcass. There was a cautious shuffling from within the corpse, though, despite the obvious movements, the body itself rested completely unaffected. Then it rose out from the corpse, transparent and intangible; it appeared as an illusory echo of the very form it had left. The ethereal fish swam out of its twin host, travelling through the air as if the ocean had still breathed about them.

The ghostly fish flew apprehensively, its nervous eyes glancing back to its rotten cadaver home. Granny Ayah patiently waited for the ethereal sea folk to adjust, allowing it time to overcome its anxiety and bravely approach the stranger. "I have to take you somewhere special first."

Granny Ayah presented her cane to the creature, tilting its furry sphere top to it. Upon approaching, the cane's furry tendrils all statically pulled in the direction of the fish. "You can sit right here as you guide me." When the ghostly fish approached the sphere, its furry tendrils coiled around as a warmly blanket and pulled the fish inwards to its furry confines. The ghostly fish stained the fur it touched, shifting it from its dark hue to a similar ethereal transience. The ghostly appearance infected the entire cane and descended down its shaft until it struck the cold beach floor.

Once the whole cane turned ghostly, Granny Ayah's feet rapidly dampened, a chilling wave washing over them. Granny Ayah looked down at her feet and saw the faint echoes of water splashing over her toes, then rising to her ankles, and then rising more. The water bore no colour, no weight, nor pressure; it hardly even existed at all, and yet it was felt. As the ethereal water line rose higher, its buoyancy lifted many hiding ghost fish out of their corpses, and soon, the invisible ocean exploded with life.

Granny Ayah strained her gaze up, the ocean's surface way above her head, taller than even the greatest mountains of her homeland. An incomprehensibly diverse excitation of life swimming abound in every size, shape, and hue of biology. The world's ocean revealed itself bare to the grandma, all while she stood alone on a dry bed, surrounded by rancid, half-decayed bodies.

It took her a moment to adjust to the stark dichotomy of life's dead sea and death's lively ocean, but it was a welcome adjustment. Her spirit couldn't help lift upon seeing the dancing menagerie of spirits overhead, all who once were, together in history's sea. The lonesome death that weighed on her before had completely disappeared, being quite literally overshadowed by the excited clamour of a hidden world full of life.

Enthralled by this miraculous world, Granny Ayah found herself mouth agape as she took in the ghostly aquarium. "So, this is where everyone was hiding."

Her ghostly companion poked their little head out of the furry cane top to address her, "It can get pretty boring staying with our bodies all the time, so most of us eventually visit the soul sea. I can take you to see the someone who might know where your friend is."

Granny Ayah obediently followed the directions of her little fishy friend, not wanting to be rude but still unable to restrain her gawking of the soul sea's splendour. The plethora of colours and shapes, creatures endangered and extinct, some never even seen before. The scale of the entire experience was difficult to put into words; she was walking on the ocean floor as the real ocean was not present, but the ethereal water acted as if nothing had happened. It was the entire height of a mountain dense with activity.The endless history of life and death was peacefully swimming over her head. As she gawked, so too did many of the dead take interest in her.

"Ooh a visitor."

"She's pretty."

"I like your soul Miss."

Many a curious soul stopped by to share brief pleasantries. The attention certainly slowed their pacing, but Granny Ayah couldn't find herself minding, with how endearing everyone was. She did note, however, with a little anxiety, that they were slowly winding their way closer to the edge of the world, that dry corridor somehow thinning, almost contracting about her like a hunting serpent. Ayah's concern was quickly supplanted by the spirits' tugs for attention. The leviathan soul of an impossible whale easily demanded her full engagement as it wholly blotted any daylight as it approached. The mere size of such a creature intimidated, even if it spoke without threat and a friendly curiosity, "What brings Miss over to the soul sea?"

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Her little fish friend was quick to answer. "She's looking for a lost friend."

"Oh, well his lordship should know then."

Even upon the expressionless form of a fish, souls had such a way of communing to which their thoughts were undeniable, and her little companion spoke with proudful empowerment, "That's exactly what I was thinking; I was taking her to him now."

"Good luck, Miss. I hope you find your friend."

Granny Ayah thanked the kind whale for their concern and continued on with a wave goodbye. In an attempt to make small talk, Granny Ayah asked the little fish. "So, who is this lordship?"

"He's not actually a lord or anything; everyone just calls his lordship his lordship since his lordship knows everything. I think he called it omnisciscince or something."

"To garner the praise of so many spirits, he must really be something."

"Oh yes, yes. If anyone would know where your friend is, it would be his lordship."

The journey from shoreline to world's edge was not a short trek; in fact, it was incomprehensibly long; sometimes, it felt like with every step forward, that corridor grew two steps long. The ocean walls tightened on either side, now close enough that she could see the geometric spikes and tunnels undulating upon its surface. The little fish turned to Granny Ayah and spoke. "From here on out, make sure to follow my exact steps. If you walk even a teeny bit different from where I say or do, then it might be impossible for us to find each other again." Granny Ayah thought the fish was a little dramatic, but she played along, giving it an affirmative nod.

The two kept delving deeper into the barren beach all the way until Granny Ayah felt a light spray splash her face. It was a strange, overpowering feeling, not like the intangible coolness of the soul sea. It took her a moment to remember that was what real water felt like. They had finally arrived at the true ocean, the end of the carved corridor where she faced a flat wall of water. Craning her neck to either side, she saw it stretch to either horizon as if she hadn't just been trekking between a divided sea for the past couple of hours. Gazing up, the ocean continued forever, conjoining to some impossible point far beyond where the blue hues of sky and sea blended seamlessly. The ocean's face a turbulent assault of convulsions and impressions, shapes impossible to fluids forming and breaking but it would reject any stable state. It would shift and transform, shrinking and growing, continuously morphing into other shapes, her mind finally supplanted: they were waves.

She comforted herself in knowing that it was all on the other side, trapped and inapproachable, beyond the edge of the world. A place that no being would ever dare trespass; Granny Ayah could only hope that included her fruit.

"We're here." The fish had stopped in front of a stone well. A quaint wooden roof peaked above, a rope drawn back on a spindle and tied to a bucket that rested on the well's walls, smoothed by the wet of the ocean. Inside the bucket was an odd mixture of real and ethereal water, as if unsure of which world the bucket was meant to provide for. The little fish jumped out of Granny's furry cane and into the well's bucket with a little splash. It happily span a few circles, then surfaced, "His lordship will be at the bottom of the well."

Granny Ayah walked up to the out-of-place well and peered down its deep rocky shaft. The well pierced deep into the depths, the smoothed brickwork eventually ending, but a natural cave continuing the penetration into abyssal darkness. Granny Ayah gave her fishy companion an apprehensive eye but kept faith in her friend.

The first cause of concern with her tiny friend's simple plan was that there was clearly no way she could fit in that bucket, but under the insistence of the little fish, she put her first foot in. At a distance, it looked like even her foot would hardly fit, but as her foot got closer, it almost appeared like it shrunk to fit in the bucket. As the rest of her body followed it too seemed to contort to its new small environment. Granny Ayah still struggled to fit her entire body into the small bucket but eventually managed to squeeze herself in with her folded knees rubbing against her ears. Then, she began feeding the rope some length to commence her descent.

Granny Ayah kept a firm hold of the rope, making sure to maintain a steady decline into the black below, and below they went. Down, deeper into the planet's bod. The first thing to disappear was any smell of the outside world; the scent of rotting corpses and rushing saltwater had all but gone. Then, any sound of the outside world left; the howling wind, crashing waves, and chatting spirits seemed part of a faraway land now. Eventually, even light couldn't make its way to the cramped shaft. Minutes turned to hours, and Granny Ayah found her skin getting more wrinkled than it already was from sitting in the bucket's strange liquid for so long.

After a few more hours of descent, when Granny Ayah's arms grew wobbly with fatigue and she struggled to maintain her steady pace, a saving light pierced the dark below. An eager fervour flooded her exhausted arms, and she accelerated her descent. Going lower more, she was welcomed by the methodical drip of droplets striking a shallow puddle. She descended even further down, and her nose was finally embraced with the stagnant stench of fish, the otherwise horrible scent a welcome relief after hours of sensory deprivation. Then, she finally came to an opening.

The base of the bucket could just hardly graze the surface of a shallow pond, Its connecting rope having been fully extended. A crack in the cave flooded the hollow with light. A single flat rock peaked out of the small pond. On top of this little rock, a fat toad perched proudly. Granny Ayah looked around the small cave before finally pointing to the toad and asking her fish friend. "Is that his lordship?"

The little fish gasped in horror before speedily stuttering. "I'm so sorry, your lordship; she is a guest and is still ignorant of some things. It is truly an honour to meet you."

Granny Ayah, having noticed her mistake, made a pained attempt at formally bowing in the cramped bucket. "I apologize, your lordship; I did not know exactly who or what I was going to meet, so I did not recognize you right away. I humbly ask for your forgiveness."

The toad made no gesture of acknowledgement as it replied. "Ribbit"

The little fish's eyes widened in absolute bliss while happily wagging his tail. "Oh, you are so generous and merciful; your lordship, thank you."

Granny Ayah shot a confused glance at her fish friend but then looked back to his lordship and asked, "I have come here to seek your lordship's guidance. I am looking for a friend, and I heard that you would know where they were."

Granny Ayah stared pleadingly at his lordship, trying to contain all her expectations and hopes. His lordship took a moment of deep thought and analysis and then bloated out his vocal sac and spoke. "Ribbit"

"I apologize, Your Lordship, but I do not understand the language that you speak. Would it be possible for you to translate, please?"

Granny Ayah couldn't quite believe her own words. Perhaps she was just feebly grasping at straws to justify the time and effort of this trip. She waited patiently for his lordship to respond. His lordship remained quiet for an entire minute as he sat on his little rock without making a single movement. Granny Ayah also spent this entire minute silently watching His Lordship's every action. Eventually, after a minute, the silence was broken. "Yes, I can see your friend, ribbit."

Granny Ayah's face beamed with elation. She excitedly attempted to scooch forward in the bucket to get closer to his lordship as she asked. "Really! Where are they!?"

"They are in the bucket with you, ribbit."

The little fish did not waste a second to shower praise. "Wow, you are so wise, your lordship. Thank you for your great guidance!"

Granny Ayah threw a puzzled expression to the bucket, but inside, she could only see the little fish. "Do you mean this fish spirit, your lordship? Well, yes, it certainly is my friend, but this is not the friend that I was searching for."

Granny Ayah paused while she waited for his lordship to respond. She waited patiently for an excruciatingly long time, with only the occasional dripping sound of water filling the air. After a few minutes, his lordship stretched out his vocal sack and responded. "Oh, …ribbit."

"Your lordship, do you know where the friend that I am looking for is?"

"Of course, I know everything there is to know of the world."

"May you tell me where my friend is?"

His lordship did not immediately respond; however, he did blink for the first time in their meeting. His lordship sat on the little rock and truly took Granny Ayah's question to heart searching deep within himself for how he could be of help. His lordship turned around on the spot, scanning the contents of the entire cave. Finally, he had fully turned, returning to his original position, and his lordship gave Granny Ayah his answer. "Your friend is not here, ribbit."

"Of course they aren't! I thought you knew everything there was to know in the world?"

"I do know all there is to know of the world. I have just looked around it. I could not find our friend. I'm sorry to say that they must have passed on. It is time for you to move on. Ribbit."

"I know they aren't in the well. Where are they outside the well?"

"Outside the well? What's that?... Ribbit."

Granny Ayah was stunned silent. She could not believe what was unfolding before her. The little fish swam over to her to share their condolences. "I'm so sorry Granny, I had no idea that your friend had passed away. I will be here if you need a shoulder to cry on."

Responding uncharacteristically quick, his lordship said. "She cannot cry on your shoulder, for you do not have one little fish."

"Ooh, you're right, your lordship. How very wise."

The sweet old Granny Ayah could not contain it anymore and burst into a fit of shouts. "No! His lordship is not wise! He hasn't told anyone here anything they don't already know! He knows nothing about the larger world, and this was all just a great big waste of time. I have rope burn from coming down here! His lordship can't even consistently keep up his gimmick of croaking at the end of every sentence, and you little fish! His lordship is just a frog in a well, but what is your excuse, why did you tell me that he would have all my answers!? What do the two of you have to say for yourselves!?"

His lordship and the little fish both recoiled at the sudden outburst from Granny Ayah, and after a few seconds of her echoing shouts, the cave returned to an eerie silence. His lordship was the first to respond. "… ribbit?"

"Too late, frog boy."

Granny Ayah turned back to the little fish with a pointed finger, awaiting its excuse. "He said he knew everything."

"That obviously wasn't true."

"I didn't know that… I'm a fish."

Granny Ayah gave in to defeat. All of her rage faded just as quickly as it had roused. What happened was not the fault of these two simple creatures. Granny Ayah spoke with a calm, soft voice. "I am sorry for shouting at the two of you, I was just in a hurry to find my friend."

"I'm also sorry, Granny Ayah, I just wanted to help, but I didn't know how."

The little fish swam over to Granny Ayah's cheek and rubbed against it in a fish's terrible attempt at a hug.

The frog awkwardly interjected into the tender moment with a question. "So, umm. In my infinite wisdom, I heard that there was going to be a birthday with baked goods. Will I be invited?"

“…”

"… ribbit."

Granny Ayah looked over to the toad with a scornful glare; even the little fish still pressed against her cheek glared him down. Granny Ayah gave a curt but resolute answer. "No."

Suddenly, the loud sound of a bell chimed in the cave, echoing all throughout the small room. The toad felt its rock was being disturbed by something, so it hopped into the small pond and swam over to the bucket to crawl in.

On the small rock, there was what seemed to be a small pink rhombus, or it was a rhombus, but its body would reject any stable state. It would shift and transform, shrinking and growing, continuously morphing into other shapes. The pink shape finally locked into a form resembling that of a featureless human with only one limb. The arm was outstretched towards Granny Ayah holding a glowing parchment: It read.

You have been invited to The Tournament You are The Mother