Wise led them through a labyrinth of halls. Guin tried to make a mental map of the place, but every hallway looked like the next with such a series of complicated corridors that it made it next to impossible. She wished she had had the equipment she needed to draw as she walked, but failing that, she had to trust in the spirits themselves. Eventually, the halls gave way to cave-like walls once again, and as they walked, the path became covered in moss and fog.
Guin’s jaw dropped as they came to a large, beautiful grotto where a waterfall came down from an opening in the high ceiling, sparkling in the bright rays of sunlight, spilling into a lovely blue-green lake covered in lotus flowers and lily pads. The air was fresh and light and smelled of mountains and sweet fruits and flowers. It was alive with a magnificent array of colors as spirits and animals alike rose their heads from the fauna to greet the newcomers before going back to their own business of comping on leaves or scurrying about.
From her shoulder, Wise asked, “Do you see that blue jade tablet in the center of the lake?” Looking over, Guin saw and nodded as the owl continued. “Go out into the lake and pray in your heart. If it is meant to be, he shall answer your call.”
Looking back at Jormund and Dawl, she smiled a bit. Jormund was egging her on while Dawl was turning about with his mouth wide open, dumbfounded by their surroundings. Shaking her head at them, as Wise went over and landed on a surprised Jormund’s shoulder, Guin walked over to the lake’s edge and stared into its depths. The water was amazingly clear and blue, with koi serenely drifting in its waters. The tablet Wise had told her about was a way out with no path between it and the lake’s edge. I suppose I just have to trust it, then? The worst that could happen was that she would have to swim there.
Though she braced herself to get very wet, Guin stepped out into the lake. Onto it, as it turned out. Testing her steps to be sure, she started to laugh as she began to walk on the water, heading straight toward the tablet with building confidence.
The tablet itself was made of a beautifully marbled, pale blue jade that was almost transparent. The image of a swirling, east-asian-styled dragon was carved into it with peaceful eyes and an elegant face. Kneeling before it, she began to pray.
From her mind to her heart, she whispered, Dragon King, hear me. Grave errors have been made, and my friends and I seek to save the forest. Many lives have already been lost, and the forest is dying. Reili, the Che-bound spirit fox in the employ of the Lady Amikavi, has sent us to you that we may receive a scale to purify the corruption...
She waited several minutes, but nothing happened. Concerned, Guin tried to make her plea again, but still, nothing happened.
Guin stared at the tablet with a sinking heart. What would happen if she was unable to get the scale? Would she fail the quest? Would the forest really die? What of Dawl? What of Reili and all the spirits that she had met so far?
What about Tik-Tak?
Biting back the tears that welled at the thought of her little friend who had so pointlessly lost his life, Guin considered her options. She had already put so much time and effort into this quest. After all this—after coming this far—am I going to give up? Am I going to let myself fail? There was the possibility that this was some kind of puzzle, but looking around the grotto told her little that she did not already know.
She stared into the eyes of the carved dragon.
“Please,” she muttered grimly. “Please help me save them. I can’t just give up here...” Anger building inside her, she shouted, “Please!”
From underneath the water, a wave erupted, spray glittering in the sunlight as Guin fell back from the tablet, which began to glow dimly. Wind and pressure whipped around her, and she fought to keep her hair out of her face as, out from behind the curtain of the waterfall, a mist flowed out, and with a rumble, a shadow appeared.
Separating that curtain came a great dragon’s head, sleek, with whiskers that grazed the lake's water, causing ripples that made waves that splashed onto the land. Each of its sharp, icy-blue eyes was at least twice her size, and they felt as if they could see into her soul.
Guin could only whimper a little as she tried to breathe in the sheer presence of the great being before her. A great weight had suddenly been thrust upon her—one she could not escape, as if gravity multiplied, pulling her down though she could go no further. The air became thick and moist, and electric. Her sense heightened, but there was only instinct left to act of them. Her desire to flee was strong—but she knew it would be futile.
She had felt this before.
This fear.
Guin slammed her eyes shut and jabbed her fingernails into the palm of her hand. Stay focused, Guin, she told herself. Stay focused. This is only a game, and you are here for a reason. There are more important things than fear now!
She opened her eyes and faced the creature before her.
It breathed a hot, moist puff of air into her face as it grinned at her, each of its massive teeth almost as tall as she was and uncomfortably close to where she had fallen.
Feeling feverish, Guin forced herself up to kneel and said, “H-Hail, Dragon King. I-I am Guin Grey... Sent by the lady R-Relli, s-s-servant of the Ami-Amikavi. P-Please, Dragon King... Please help the forest!”
“Why should I bother?” came a voice in her head, similar to how the Webspinner had communicated with her, except this one was loud and booming.
“W-Why should you...?” Guin repeated. “Are you not the guardian of the forest?”
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“Oh, for many centuries I have been,” the dragon’s voice came in annoyance. “For so many centuries, my kin and I have watched over this forest and the Mist Moon Mountains and all the little Che-kind who live there—so many! Yet, the Che always do that which they know they should not. They come in search of power. Wealth. Desire. They cause corruption wherever they walk—and yes, girl, I know you have come here because, once again, the forest that I have so long protected is under threat from Che-kind greed—and you have only come because it has affected you, selfish creature.” The dragon raised his mighty head up and looked down on her with his sharp, icy-blue eyes. “Here again, I find myself faced with two equally bad options: Save the forest for the Che to ruin once again, or let my people become corrupted by the actions of others.”
Gawking at it, Guin stood. “You cannot let the actions of idiots determine the fates of others so easily!” she cried.
“Should I ignore the inevitable for the sake of the insignificant?” the Dragon asked her. “Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting something different to happen is the very definition of insanity—and I am not yet that far gone.”
“Surely there must be some good the Che have done for you to consider it!” Guin cried. “It cannot be so black and white! What of the Che who care for the forest? What of those who followed the laws? What of the Servants who have aided you all these years!”
The dragon moved closer to her again, his great claws coming out from behind the falls and into the lake, causing the water to splash and wave, the ground shaking as if there were an earthquake. He put his head down into the water as well, leveling one of his great eyes with her. “How is the good of the Che any different than my illusions? There one moment, and then gone the next, and only the horrible reality is left behind. The good may save the forest for the day, but the evil will destroy it forever.”
Guin heard the words and could not refute the dragon’s logic. But as she stood and stared into the dragon’s great eye, her reflection stared back at her—and her fear and uncertainty left her. Replacing it instead was an all too familiar feeling of disgust. It wasn’t her dirty clothes or her disheveled hair. It wasn’t even that she was like a child in this world.
Look at me, she said to herself. Who would listen to... this. This small, cowering thing with wide eyes and shaking knees. This time she wanted to cry not just for Tik-Tak and the other spirits of the forest; she wanted to cry because whether it be this world of the game or her real life, no matter how she truly was, the only thing that Tik-Tak and those other spirits of the forest had right now was a scared, frightened little girl who had so little confidence in herself and others, that whether her life was on the line or not, she couldn’t even stand up to a video game.
Guin looked over to Jormund and Dawl. They trusted me. They followed me. They led me to this place... But what could a frightened little girl do?
Slamming her eyes shut and clenching her fists, she focused on steading her breaths. This isn’t a test of fear, she told herself. This is a test of courage.
Though she trembled, she stared into the dragon’s pupil, surrounded by its icy iris.
“I cannot control others,” she began, her voice low. “I can’t predict the future. But I do know this: If no one does anything to stop the bad things from happening, then, of course, the bad things will happen. If you watch something happen that you could have just prevented because you thought it would be pointless to take action, then you are just as guilty as those who committed the wrongdoing. If you do nothing to stop the corruption—no matter how big or small—then you are just as guilty as the Che.”
The dragon gave her a wide grin, the waters of the lake splashing against his teeth with an unsettling sloosh-ing sound. “Is this your answer as a Candidate?”
Annoyed at the mention of the title ‘Candidate,’ Guin said, “It’s my answer as a person.”
“Person, Candidate—it makes little difference to me, Che-child,” the voice in her head said. “But I wonder, do you plan to stop here with this event?”
“What?”
“You speak such pretty, hypocritical words,” the dragon told her in an amused voice that made Guin’s heart falter. “If you are here as a person who wishes only to save a friend, then I would like you to not speak quite so arrogantly to me of things that have responsibilities that shall not be expected of you but rather ones that you expect others to take up.” Feeling exposed, Guin opened and closed her mouth like a fish. “Candidate for the Heart, what is it you really want? Why do you think you have come here?”
“Umm...” Guin muttered, quickly losing her courage. “To cleanse the forest. To stop the corruption. To save the spirits of the forest....”
“Yes, yes, that much is quite clear. But the spirits only led you here because you are a Candidate,” the dragon told her. “Why do you think that is?”
“Because...” Confused, Guin thought about the events that led her to this place. “They trusted me?”
“To do what?”
“...to... end the corruption?”
Waves splashed as the dragon lifted their head in a booming laugh. “‘To end the corruption?’” he went. “And what is it you plan to do about it, Candidate? What do you think the corruption is? Where do you think it comes from?”
Something about the dragon’s dialogue seemed jarring to her, but at least she felt confident enough to answer, though perhaps too quickly, standing in the chaos of the lake, “The corruption is a spirit that infects other spirits. It is born of sorrow; sorrow caused by evil deeds!”
The dragon’s eyes seemed to mock her as he gave a deep chuckle. “Such as simple answer,” he mused. “So simple—and so very, very wrong. I wonder,” it went, drawing close to her again. “What will happen to you once you learn the truth.”
“The... Truth?” Guin stammered.
“Yes, Candidate for the Heart,” it said in a quiet voice. “The truth.” The large eye that watched her narrowed. “You are an interesting one, indeed. Promise me, Candidate. Promise me that you shall become a Candidate in earnest and act out the words you speak—only then will I promise you that I will save this forest.”
Guin looked up at the dragon with a mix of curiosity and confusion. When it spoke those words, she had expected a quest window to pop up, but none did. There was just her and the dragon, staring down at her with an intimidating stare.
“...You just want my word?” she asked.
“Such that it is.”
She hesitated. What the heck does this mean? What should I do? Guin looked back over at where her friends were and sighed. If you make a promise to a dragon, Guin, you had better keep it—quest or not.
With a deep breath, Guin settled her heart down and made her decision. It’s just a game anyway, she thought to herself with the full understanding that was basically signing a PvP contract. Maybe it will be fun?
“I’ll do it,” Guin told it. “I’ll act as a genuine Candidate.”
The cavern quaked as it was once again filled with the Dragon King’s laughter. Though she felt afraid, Guin did her best to hold her ground. To her surprise, however, the image of the dragon began to fade away into mist, the laughter that filled the area—and even the sound of the waterfall—fading with it.
Spinning around, Guin searched for some answers as to what was happening. The world around her seemed to come to a stop as the mist-shrouded even the edges of the lake from her view.
“Behind you,” came a smooth, cold voice. Guin turned to see a young, androgynous white-haired man dressed in fine robes sitting on the dragon’s tablet. His ears were long and looked a little bit like fish fins, and a pair of silvery horns shone from the top of its head.
“I am Tethaigou, Dragon King of the Mist,” he told her. “My people have told me much about you, Candidate.”