Chapter 47 - Aedrin

Aedrin’s death.

It was nonsense.

Aedrin was one of the ancient species. One of the beings who had existed since creation, the closest to omnipotence among all the creatures on this continent.

Even the famously stupid orcs knew that they lived forever.

Utterly bewildered by Friede’s words, Renée tried to ask for more details, but Friede cut her short.

“Let us discuss the details once we enter the Great Forest. Wouldn’t it be better to speak where Mari is, rather than tell the same story twice?”

Mari.

That must mean the apostle of abundance.

Renée struggled to suppress her mounting curiosity and answered with a nod.

* * *

It did not take them long to reach the Great Forest.

That was only natural, considering they had spread a day’s journey over two days out of consideration for Renée’s stamina.

“We shall leave the carriage here. The Great Forest has no roads wide enough for it,” Friede said.

The party disembarked, left the carriage at the forest entrance, loaded their luggage onto the horses, and began walking deeper inside.

Walking hand in hand with Bera, Renée heard a rustle as her foot sank into the ground beneath her. She tilted her head and spoke.

“Fallen leaves?”

The fallen leaves lay ankle-deep. And they were not merely leaves lying on the ground, but dry ones that distinctly crumbled underfoot.

“Bera, are there fallen leaves here?”

Bewilderment stirred within Renée. According to the historical accounts of visitors, the Great Forest was a land perpetually thick with green vegetation and brimming with life.

It was not a place where fallen leaves should lie in such profusion.

“... Yes. All the ground I can see is covered in fallen leaves.”

His expression deeply grave, Bera gazed ahead and described the scenery.

“There are more dark colors than green. The trees are certainly dense, but most are bare, as though in the depths of winter.”

Bera was thinking the same thing as Renée.

Something was wrong. It was far too desolate to be the Great Forest.

In other words...

“... All the vegetation in sight is withering.”

A dead land. This was scenery one would expect to see only in the Cradle of the Dead, far to the east.

Naturally, a question arose in Bera’s mind: why?

‘No one knew it had become this barren?’

He was remembering his previous life.

Until the day he died in his previous life, there had never been a single rumor on the continent that the Great Forest was withering.

Not even after Friede and the other elves had left the forest to defeat the Demon King.

Something was wrong.

If the land had dried out this noticeably, anyone passing near the Great Forest would have noticed the change...

“There is no need to be so alarmed. Things are still all right for now.”

A sweet voice with a wistful resonance.

Friede, who had been listening to Bera and Renée’s conversation, had spoken. Still leading the way, the elf turned to look back at them and continued.

“The barrier is still intact. The trees have withered like this because Mother has absorbed their life to conserve what remains of her own.”

Friede delivered the answer with a smile, entirely at ease, then turned forward again.

“Now, we have arrived.”

Puzzlement appeared on the party’s faces.

Where had they arrived? The scenery had not changed at all.

As they looked at Friede with that thought in mind—

The surrounding scenery abruptly warped in a sweeping rush.

Norn and Hella drew their swords. Bera summoned his divine energy and gathered Renée into his arms. Suddenly enveloped in his embrace, she gave a startled hiccup.

It felt as though the whole world was twisting.

As the atmosphere grew tense—

“Do not be alarmed.”

With those words, a tremendous tree appeared at the far end of the transformed landscape. Even craning their heads high, they could not see its top.

“That is...”

The words came from Norn.

But he was not the only one. Hella and Bera, too—everyone except Renée, who could not see—wore expressions of astonishment.

The tree looked like dozens of enormous trees climbing over one another and soaring into the sky.

Before that immense tree, crowned with richly red leaves, it was impossible to feel anything but astonishment.

Friede chuckled, plainly delighted by their expressions, then spoke.

“Welcome to Mother’s land.”

Aedrin, the Deepest Root.

That was the tree that had captured their gazes.

* * *

“Mari.”

At Friede’s call, Bera looked in the same direction. In the distance stood a figure with her back to them, stroking Aedrin.

She raised her head at Friede’s voice, then beamed at the elf and the party beyond.

“Oh, my dears! You’re here!”

The figure rose, speaking exuberantly. Norn and Hella bowed their heads at the sight of Mari, the apostle of abundance.

Bera offered a slight bow in greeting, then described Mari’s appearance to the bewildered Renée.

“She has the look of a stout countrywoman. Her short brown hair is neatly tied up, her wrinkles are well-defined, and she has a bright air about her. Her priestly robes are stained in places, but those seem to be marks of age rather than fresh dirt. She appears to be quite frugal.”

He focused on sensory details to make her as easy as possible for Renée to imagine.

Picturing Mari’s face from Bera’s description, Renée nodded, then bowed in greeting.

“Hello.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you must have had such a hard journey all this way!”

She was so friendly that it was difficult to believe this was their first meeting. Thinking how warm and sociable Mari was, Renée smiled.

“No, the others had a harder time than I did.”

“Oh, my! And such a sweet heart, too!”

Laughing cheerfully, Mari patted Renée’s shoulder, then turned to greet Bera.

“Oh, so you’re Bera? What a handsome young man!”

“... You flatter me.”

Bera felt bewilderment rising within him.

It was her personality. In his previous life, he had heard countless stories of her deeds during the war against the Demon King, but he had never known what she was like as a person. As Mari laughed and repeatedly slapped his shoulder hard enough to make audible thumps, he bowed his head, at a rare loss for what to do.

“Norn! Hella! Oh, my goodness! When did little Hella grow so big? Come here, let me give you a hug!”

“... Been a long time, ma’am.”

Perhaps accustomed to Mari’s manner, Hella hugged her with her usual vacant expression.

She was, quite literally, a whirlwind of a person.

A hearty woman who instantly roused and shook up the party, who had been so tense moments earlier at the sight of the withering trees and Aedrin.

As the endless greetings and chatter began to leave the party looking helpless, Friede, who had stepped back to watch, spoke.

“Mari, may I speak now? Our friends still do not know Mother’s condition.”

“Eh? Didn’t the old man tell you anything?”

“Ah, no...”

Renée gave a small nod. The constant chatter had left her dazed, as though her soul had been talked right out of her.

Apparently failing to notice, Mari made another fuss and launched into yet more chatter.

“Oh, honestly! That old man must be going senile again! I knew this would happen! I told him to make sure he eats a balanced meal every single time, but he just wouldn’t listen!”

The words poured out like a storm.

Renée’s expression grew troubled.

* * *

It took quite a while longer for Mari’s chatter to end.

Friede’s repeated interventions deserved much of the credit. The elf gently agreed with Mari, then carefully pointed it out whenever her conversation threatened to veer off course, preventing any further tangents.

Renée sat on one of Aedrin’s roots, which protruded from the ground at a comfortable height for sitting, and listened to Friede, who could finally speak.

“Hmm, yes. Had I told you that Mother is dying?”

“Yes. You said you would explain the details here.”

“Well, to elaborate on that, Mother’s death does not mean her complete disappearance.”

Renée tilted her head at Friede’s words, puzzled by this apparent change of story.

Seeing the questions written all over her face, Friede smiled and added,

“It is rather like an event that occurs once every thousand years. Mother is preparing for her next life.”

“Her next life?”

“Indeed. Saintess, how does the root you are sitting on feel?”

Renée ran her hand over the root.

“Hmm... Hard, and a little dry...”

The outer bark was so dry that it crumbled at the lightest touch. That was not all. The wood she felt beneath it lacked moisture and felt rather parched.

Watching Renée continue to stroke the root as she spoke, Friede nodded.

“That is because the body that presently makes up Mother has reached the end of its lifespan. Mother’s existence is eternal, but the trees that form her flesh are not. Thus, every thousand years, when those trees reach the end of their lives, Mother fashions a new body and is reborn.”

Surprise appeared on Renée’s face. She had never heard any of this before.

“Then, when Lady... Aedra is reborn, will the Great Forest come back to life?”

“Normally, yes.”

Normally.

There was a qualification attached to those words.

“Normally?”

“Yes, normally. This time, the circumstances are somewhat different. That is what is causing the problem.”

Friede moved beside Renée and continued, stroking the root.

“A thousand years have not yet passed. Mother’s body has lived for only nine hundred years.”

There was something disconcerting about a sense of time that described nine hundred years as “only.”

“We cannot obtain the seed that will form Mother’s new body until at least nine hundred and eighty years have passed. We are still eighty years short... yet this body has already reached the end of its lifespan. That has complicated matters considerably.”

As Friede continued, Renée understood what those words meant. Tension naturally began to creep into her voice.

“... Does that mean she cannot be reborn?”

If Aedrin died without producing a seed, she could not pass into her next life. That must be what Friede meant.

Friede smiled in reply.

“Precisely. If Mother withers away like this, it will be the end of everything. The Great Forest, and us elves as well.”

“The elves, too?”

“Yes. We elves are a species that lives by receiving a share of Mother’s life. That is why we can live for thousands of years. So if Mother disappears, and we can no longer receive that life, would we not all die?”

“Then...”

“Elves will vanish from the continent’s history. That is why Mari is here. She is using her divine powers of abundance to forcibly sustain Mother’s life. Hmm, it truly is a dire situation.”

Renée went abruptly still.

She turned her head toward Friede’s voice. A question had occurred to her as the conversation continued.

Because she was blind, unable to perceive expressions or other visual information, Renée was particularly sensitive to something else: discerning a person’s true feelings through the rise and fall of their voice.

As Friede spoke, she noticed something strange.

‘Why...’

What Friede was saying was so grave.

And yet, even while speaking of Aedrin’s death and the elf’s own, Friede betrayed no emotion at all.