074 - The Sleeping Forest

It came from beyond the black water stream, beyond the trees and mist . . the voice called out again "Magnus . ." echoing, sounding in the rustle of a thousand leaves, in the creaking wood, in the very marrow of his bones. "Come . . to me . . to me . ."

Through the white mist, over slick moss covered stones and forest floor thick with leaves. The trees fell away, all around there was only mist and ground, Magnus moved forward, moved to the voice.

The ground grew strange; uneven and slippery, a sharp metallic taste filled his mouth, a stench . . what was that? Rotten eggs? No . . blood. The stench of blood, fresh blood. Beneath his feet . . wood? No leaves no, no dirt, only wood; roots, small at first, then getting larger, each thick as a tree trunk all twisted and coiled.

Between the roots gathered in puddles was blood. Fresh flowing blood, running in rivulets over the roots and pooling, dark stagnant clots that clung to his feet, squelching like mud as he stepped in a clot while climbing a root.

"Here . . come to me . ."

The white mist cleared. Magnus felt an electric buzz, his ears filled with an immense pressure. Beyond the mist was a tangled mountain of roots, all rising to a single mighty tree, a gigantic tree trunk larger than any mountain, too large to even see all at once. It soared to a dizzying height, far too tall to see clearly. Up above . . far far above he could see branches and leaves, like a distant green world suspended in the sky . .

"Here . ."

The voice beckoned him on, Magnus followed, climbing the roots slick with blood. Closer, here, over here Magnus . .

By the base of the tree trunk the roots were the thickest, enormous living wood tendrils joining together to the solid trunk. In a gap between two roots was a lake of blood, absolutely placid. Stood in the center of the lake was a man in red robes, a cowl covering his face.

Magnus felt he was meeting his father, coming home to his mother and brother and sister; felt that all he loved and all who loved him were here, were waiting for him. Tears flowed unceasingly from his eyes, his heart ached; the deepest feelings of being wanted, being needed . .

"Home."

The single word filled the world with light. Magnus tried to respond but the words caught in his throat. A strange sensation . . on his hands, up his arms a red light shone out through his skin. Red threads, hundreds of strands of red light like a hundred fine hairs grew from his fingertips, from the palms of his hands, from every part of his body. The red strands all shone, all grew, pushing out of his flesh and towards the lake of blood, entering the red waters.

Refreshing, truly refreshing . .

The skin on his hands and arms became deep red, turning to a soft jelly mush and falling off in clumps. All over his body he felt refreshed, as if he'd been dipped in honey, a sweetness and lightness of heart beyond anything Magnus could measure his life against. Black flakes of hard skin, pungent yellow pus . . all squeezed out between his pores and dried in an instant, falling from his body.

The figure moved, a thin hand with long skeletal fingers emerged from red sleeves pointing down, intoning a single word.

"Dream."

Magnus followed the bony finger looking down, his gaze falling to the ground before him. On the roots at his feet was a mass of golden words etched into the roots. Squiggle lines and strange alien shapes, nothing that he could decipher, even from Soo's memories. No . . that wasn't quite right . . one part of the golden text was legible!

By sun away towards on sunless seas to sunless shores

Near beneath becalmed the ship the storms be calm

Next before be there be when the all the one the sun

Glass eye glass sea shine shone is one is all be careful sun

Be warned eye that sees is that flat beneath beneath

Reflected stars moons suns is all can be can see is all is all

Else be torn be worn be sure as open page open shore

Before words before ink wrote is writ is sung is scribbled

In shouts in song in blood in life in death is here is one

At the very top, three clear chunks, written in the same script and same strange words, but he could read them! Read them . . but understand them? Was there anything to understand?

The figure in the lake raised his right hand pointing up at the distant tree top, a single word filled the air, an enormous pressure bearing down on Magnus . .

"Death."

Up there . . up amongst the high branches . . something moved. A spark, a hundred flashes of light of a hundred mirrors. Flying between the high branches, Magnus threw his head entirely back and stared. The enormous distance seemed to shrink, his eyes piercing through the heavens and a vision of the tree top appearing clear as if he had flown right to the very heavens in an instant.

There, swimming in the skies between the leaves and branches was a silver fish, a thousand mirror like silver scales flashing, the light nearly blinding. Following invisible currents it darted here and there, every motion smooth, every flick of its fins and wave of its tail enchanting. It stopped before a red fruit hanging from a branch and bit into it, devouring it whole in seconds, then moving on, swimming through the branches in a fluid dance.

Magnus blinked, finding himself once more before the red figure, blinked again and found himself surrounded by an endless sea of mist. Blinking a third time he was back in the forest, back against the cool earth, entirely awake.

A buzz . . an insect buzz filled the forest, louder, louder - deafeningly loud! The trees shook, countless leaves fell all around, the black waters exploded out from the stream, the white mist poured into the glade, swirling all around, pouring into his mouth and through his nose, a thick stream entering unceasingly, forcing its way down his throat and into the tiny white core behind his navel.

***

"Magister! There! And there!" Domitia pointed to two new specks of red light that flashed into existence.

"Another two? Three glyphs each! Maintain full visibility, report any further apparitions!" Pontius kept the disc steady, the stream of Animus he fed into the formations pulsating thick blue. There had been a total of seventeen reactions; textbook Celestial lights.

Each and every one in a different star system, every one of them flickering and fading to nothing when they'd approached. The Mithraic Seers voices were hoarse, their chants increasingly erratic. Domitia and Valerias were worn out from producing dozens of glyphs, even the two from the Martial Courts looked haggard. How much longer? How many more lights would appear?

Pontius felt drained, but determined - his eyes shone with excitement. Never before! Not in any of the histories! Ha! The scholars would write this as history! Outside interference? A natural, never before observed phenomenon? Or could there be some sort of new life form evolving? Giving off Celestial vibes that our instruments mistook for actual Celestials?

The hunt for the Celestial had become something more for the old Alchemist; no longer a matter of following procedure and retreating. Now, Pontius academic heart had been fully ignited - there was a mystery! A never before seen event within the Ether, and he was poised at the very crest of the wave! At the ideal position to be first to uncover the truth!

"Magister! A . . a . . "

"A what?" Pontius turned the disc. "Good heavens!"

Not red, not white. A golden sun, a thousand times brighter than anything else within the Goddess. Pontius mouth went dry, his chest tightening. Gold! A Gold reaction!

"Beautiful . . it's beautiful . ."

"Magister . . what is it?"

"Maintain the chant!" Pontius called out harshly at the two Seers. "Dong-Geun, Sung Hu - focus on the golden light! Don't lose sight of it . . Valerius, Domitia - six glyphs! Maintain speed and approach vector."