Chapter 120
The moment the final authorization was given, the Rune Forge personnel began the opening sequence.
Ancient mechanisms groaned beneath centuries of silence.
Layers of stone shifted.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
Deep within the walls, forgotten gears and rune formations slowly awakened.
One by one, the massive sealed doors began to move.
The first door opened with a low grinding sound, revealing a chamber overflowing with artifacts, precious metals, gemstones, and ancient relics. Even the most experienced Rune Forge personnel couldn't hide their astonishment.
The second chamber proved no less impressive.
Rows of preserved containers lined the walls, their contents untouched by time. Ancient weapons, ceremonial regalia, enchanted tools, and materials no longer found in the modern world filled the room.
The third chamber was similar.
Mountains of treasure occupied nearly every available space.
Gold.
Silver.
Ancient artifact.
Spirit crystals.
Jewelry
weapons .
Decorative objects crafted by forgotten civilizations.
The sheer volume was staggering.
Someone quietly estimated that the contents of the three chambers combined could easily fill ten standard forty-foot shipping containers.
Even Rume Ironbark let out a low whistle.
"By the Forge Father's beard..."
Yet despite the excitement spreading through the excavation teams, something immediately stood out.
The fourth chamber was different.
Completely different.
Unlike the others, its entrance door was nearly twice as thick.
The granite slab alone appeared more like a fortress gate than a simple sealed chamber.
The suppression seals carved into its surface were also significantly more complex.
As the final locking mechanisms disengaged, the massive stone door slowly slid aside.
Silence greeted them.
No treasure.
No artifacts.
No piles of ancient wealth.
Only a small room.
Ten feet by ten feet.
Perfectly square.
Almost as if the chamber had been constructed for a single purpose.
At its center stood a simple stone altar.
And upon that altar rested one solitary object.
A book.
Nothing else.
For a moment nobody spoke.
The contrast was so extreme that it felt surreal.
Three chambers filled with enough wealth to alter economies.
And a fourth protected by the strongest seals they had encountered...
containing only a single book.
Nille immediately understood.
Whatever rested on that altar was likely more valuable than everything inside the other three chambers combined.
He glanced toward Rume.
The old dwarf followed his gaze.
Their eyes met briefly.
Nille gave a small nod toward the treasure chambers.
A silent instruction.
Continue.
Rume's grin widened.
"Aye."
The merchant leader immediately turned back toward the excavation teams.
"You lot heard the lad! Begin containment and cataloging procedures! Nobody touches any artifact without authorization!"
The workers sprang into action.
Meanwhile, Nille stepped through the doorway of the small chamber.
The instant his foot crossed the threshold, something changed.
A series of ancient illumination artifacts embedded within the walls suddenly activated.
One after another.
Soft golden light spread throughout the room.
Not bright.
Not harsh.
Gentle.
Almost welcoming.
For the first time, Nille could clearly see the object resting upon the altar.
The book was old.
Far older than any ordinary manuscript should have been able to survive.
Its cover appeared to be made from barkcloth rather than leather or parchment.
The material possessed a rough, fibrous texture that resembled ancient tree bark pressed into a durable sheet.
Yet despite its age, it remained perfectly intact.
No cracks.
No rot.
No signs of decay.
The edges had darkened with time, giving the book a deep brown coloration that shifted subtly beneath the golden light.
Ancient metallic threads had been woven directly into portions of the cover.
Not gold.
Not silver.
Something older.
Something organic.
The corners were reinforced by engraved plates bearing symbols Nille didn't immediately recognize.
The craftsmanship felt impossibly ancient.
Yet strangely elegant.
At the center of the cover rested an intricate image.
A great tree.
Its roots spread downward into unseen depths.
Its branches stretched upward toward countless stars.
The image instantly reminded Nille of the World Tree found in numerous myths and legends.
The Tree of Life.
The Axis Mundi.
The pillar connecting heaven, earth, and everything between.
Yet it wasn't the tree that captured his attention.
Something coiled around it.
At first glance, it resembled a serpent.
A massive creature encircling the entire trunk.
But the longer Nille looked, the less it resembled any snake he had ever seen.
Its body appeared segmented.
Ancient.
Almost root-like.
Parts of it looked like living wood.
Other portions resembled flowing celestial patterns.
Its head was difficult to define.
As though the artist had intentionally left it incomplete.
The creature wrapped itself around the great tree in a perfect spiral, neither attacking nor constricting it.
Instead, the image gave the impression of guardianship.
Protection.
Balance.
The serpent-like being and the tree appeared connected.
Two halves of the same mystery.
Beneath the carving rested a single line of faded script.
The language was ancient.
Far older than anything Nille recognized.
Yet the moment his eyes settled upon it, he felt something stir within him.
Not from Nyx.
Not from the Celestial Cloth.
But from somewhere deeper.
Somewhere buried within memory.
Within blood.
Within destiny itself.
The old barkcloth book remained motionless upon the altar.
Waiting.
As though it had been preserved for thousands of years for one purpose alone.
For someone to finally return and open its first page.
Nille approached the altar cautiously and reached for the ancient book.
The moment his fingers touched the barkcloth cover, he felt nothing unusual.
No surge of power.
No ancient voice whispering into his mind.
No hidden mechanism activating.
It felt surprisingly ordinary.
Carefully, he lifted it from the altar.
The book was lighter than he expected, almost weightless despite its age.
For a few moments, he simply examined the cover more closely. The image of the great tree and the serpent-like figure remained as mysterious as before, but there was nothing else to suggest why an entire chamber had been built to protect it.
Eventually, he opened it.
The first page was blank.
Nille frowned slightly.
He turned to the second page.
Blank.
Third page.
Blank.
Page after page revealed nothing.
No writing.
No illustrations.
No diagrams.
Nothing.
The barkcloth pages were completely empty.
Silence filled the chamber as Nille continued flipping through the book.
His confusion grew with each page.
The artifact was ancient beyond measure.
Its preservation was extraordinary.
The chamber protecting it was more secure than the treasure vaults surrounding it.
Yet the book itself contained absolutely nothing.
By the time he reached the middle, he had begun wondering whether the contents had somehow faded with age.
But even that explanation felt unlikely.
The pages showed no signs that ink had ever existed upon them.
It was as though the book had been created empty.
Nille continued until he finally reached the last few pages.
That was when he noticed something unusual.
The final page was damaged.
Not naturally damaged.
Not worn by time.
It had been deliberately torn out.
A section near the back had been ripped away long ago.
The tear marks remained visible along the binding.
Someone had removed those pages intentionally.
And judging by the condition of the damage, it had happened centuries ago.
Nille stared at the torn section for several moments.
That discovery only deepened the mystery.
An empty book sealed within its own chamber.
Protected more heavily than rooms overflowing with priceless treasures.
And the only indication that it had ever contained anything was a missing page at the very end.
He closed the cover slowly.
Truthfully, he had expected something more dramatic.
Some forgotten spell.
An ancient prophecy.
Instructions left behind by the civilization that had built the tomb.
Instead, he was holding what appeared to be an empty book.
A very old empty book.
Yet something told him it would be foolish to discard it.
Too many resources had been devoted to protecting this single object.
Too many layers of security.
Too much effort.
Objects of genuine importance often appeared ordinary until the right circumstances revealed their purpose.
Without another word, Nille called upon Nyx.
The ancient book vanished in a flash of light and was safely transferred into the Celestial Cloth's storage space.
"Item secured," Nyx reported.
Nille nodded.
"Keep it isolated for now."
"Affirmative."
With nothing else left to examine inside the chamber, Nille turned away from the empty altar.
The golden lights continued illuminating the small room behind him.
For some reason, the chamber felt even stranger now.
Not because it contained something extraordinary.
But because it didn't.
An empty book.
A torn final page.
And a room built solely to protect it.
Nille couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something important.
Yet no answers presented themselves.
So he stepped back through the doorway and returned to the larger chamber, where the sounds of excavation, cataloging, and excited dwarven voices once again filled the air.
Behind him, the small room remained silent.
Its altar now empty.
As though it had finally surrendered the object it had been guarding for countless generations.
Nille had barely taken a few steps away from the now-empty altar when something unusual caught his attention.
Movement.
Instinctively, he turned.
For a brief moment, he thought Rune Forge personnel had entered the chamber behind him.
But that wasn't possible.
The figures he saw were unfamiliar.
Dozens of people moved through the corridors beyond the doorway, carrying tools, supplies, and construction materials. Some spoke to one another. Others hurried about their tasks. Their movements were natural and fluid.
Yet something felt wrong.
Or perhaps not wrong.
Different.
Nille narrowed his eyes.
They weren't spirits.
Nyx immediately confirmed it.
"Master, no spiritual signatures detected."
They weren't illusions either.
No active enchantment was being cast.
Then realization slowly dawned on him.
He wasn't seeing ghosts.
He was witnessing an imprint.
A memory.
The past itself was replaying before his eyes.
The chamber around him seemed unchanged, yet at the same time completely transformed.
The suffocating silence of the ancient ruins vanished.
The darkness disappeared.
The smell of dust and age faded.
Instead, the structure felt alive.
Voices echoed through the halls.
Footsteps filled the corridors.
People laughed.
Talked.
Worked.
The ancient chamber was no longer a tomb.
It was a place full of life.
Nille stood perfectly still as the vision unfolded around him.
It felt remarkably similar to watching a television program.
The past continued moving whether he acted or not.
The people paid him no attention.
None of them could see him.
He was merely an observer.
Then he saw a familiar face.
The young boy.
The spirit he had encountered beneath the tomb.
Except this wasn't the pale, lonely child surrounded by bones and memories.
This boy was different.
His skin held healthy color.
His clothes were clean.
His eyes were bright with life.
Most importantly...
He was smiling.
The sight caught Nille off guard.
The boy ran between workers carrying carved stone tablets, helping where he could despite his age. He laughed as several adults ruffled his hair while passing.
For the first time, Nille realized what the child had looked like before tragedy claimed his people.
He looked happy.
Alive.
Hopeful.
The contrast was almost painful.
Nille silently watched as the boy assisted with various tasks around the chamber.
The massive hall appeared unfinished.
Workers were still placing support pillars.
Others carved symbols into walls.
Some carried strange materials Nille couldn't identify.
It became immediately obvious.
He was witnessing the construction of the chamber itself.
Then something else drew his attention.
The staircase.
The same staircase that now descended into the depths of the underground ruins.
Except...
It wasn't underground.
Not originally.
A cold breeze drifted down from above.
Natural sunlight illuminated portions of the structure.
The entrance stood open.
Bright.
Visible.
Connected directly to the outside world.
Nille stared.
His eyes slowly widened.
The realization hit him almost immediately.
The chamber had never been built beneath the earth.
It had been built above ground.
Everything he had seen until now suggested the opposite.
Yet the evidence unfolding before him was undeniable.
The staircase led upward because it originally led to the surface.
At some point in history, countless tons of earth, stone, and sediment had buried the entire structure.
The ruins hadn't been excavated from beneath the ground.
The ground itself had swallowed them.
The scale required to accomplish such a thing was difficult to imagine.
An entire complex.
An entire civilization perhaps.
Buried.
Lost.
Forgotten.
The young boy suddenly started running toward the staircase.
Curiosity immediately stirred within Nille.
Without hesitation, he followed.
The memory continued playing around him.
Step by step, he ascended the stairs behind the boy.
The higher they climbed, the stronger the wind became.
Natural light poured down from above.
Then they emerged.
Nille stopped.
For a moment, he simply stared.
The sight before him was completely different from the endless swamp that existed today.
The chamber entrance stood atop a gently elevated hill overlooking a vast landscape.
Green fields stretched toward the horizon.
Rivers glittered beneath the sunlight.
Ancient roads connected distant settlements.
Forests swayed beneath the breeze.
In the distance, mountains rose against a clear blue sky.
There was no swamp.
No dead trees.
No stagnant water.
No signs of decay.
The land was alive.
Beautiful.
Thriving.
Nille slowly turned, taking in the impossible scene.
The entire region had once been completely different.
And somehow, he had become a witness to a forgotten world that no longer existed.
Nille continued following the young boy through the bustling settlement.
The more he observed, the more certain he became of one thing.
The castle did not exist.
Not even its foundations.
The towering structure that now dominated the swamp was nowhere to be seen.
Instead, the landscape was filled with homes built from carefully shaped timber, stacked stone, and polished wooden beams. Roads wound between workshops, gardens, and communal gathering spaces. The architecture was simple yet elegant, blending naturally with the environment rather than dominating it.
Which meant only one thing.
The castle had been constructed much later.
Long after whatever disaster had buried this place beneath countless tons of soil and transformed the region into a swamp.
The realization only deepened the mystery.
Who built the castle?
And why directly above these forgotten ruins?
Nille pushed the thought aside and continued walking.
The settlement itself was unlike anything he had ever seen.
It was alive.
Not merely populated.
Alive.
Children ran through the streets laughing. Merchants exchanged goods. Craftsmen worked openly beneath wooden shelters.
And everywhere...
There were dragons.
Nille stopped more than once simply to stare.
Dragons walked among the people as naturally as horses or livestock.
Some were no larger than cattle.
Others rivaled small buildings in size.
One massive emerald-scaled dragon was helping move enormous stone blocks toward a construction site.
Another lazily slept near a stream while several children played around it without fear.
Far overhead, dozens more soared through the skies.
The sight left Nille genuinely speechless.
There was no panic.
No alarm.
No signs that humans feared them.
The dragons behaved almost like domesticated animals.
Partners rather than monsters.
The image contradicted nearly every modern story he knew.
"Impossible..." Nille muttered.
Then again...
This entire civilization was impossible.
The young boy continued walking ahead.
Nille followed without thinking.
He was too fascinated by everything around him.
Then suddenly the boy stopped.
The child turned around.
Directly toward him.
Nille froze.
For the first time since the vision began, the boy's eyes appeared focused.
Focused on him.
"Why are you following me?" the boy asked.
Nille's heart skipped a beat.
For a brief moment, he genuinely thought the child could see him.
Then a voice sounded from behind.
"Neda."
Nille turned.
An elderly man was approaching.
The old man walked straight through Nille's body as though he wasn't there.
No resistance.
No reaction.
Nothing.
Like a spirit passing through a ghost.
The sensation sent a chill down Nille's spine.
He immediately understood.
The boy wasn't speaking to him.
The memory wasn't replaying around him.
He was somehow standing inside it.
Present.
Yet not present.
An observer occupying the space of a ghost.
The old man stopped beside the boy.
"Neda," he repeated with a gentle smile.
So that was his name.
Neda.
The spirit boy finally looked away from Nille's position and toward the elder.
"What is it?" Neda asked.
The old man raised a weathered hand and pointed toward the distance.
"Look."
Neda immediately followed his gaze.
Nille did the same.
At first, he saw only the horizon.
Then his eyes widened.
And widened further.
His breath caught in his throat.
Far beyond the settlement.
Far beyond the forests.
Far beyond even the mountains.
Something rose into the sky.
Something so enormous that his mind struggled to comprehend its scale.
A tree.
Not merely large.
Not merely ancient.
Impossible.
Its trunk alone was wider than entire cities.
Its branches stretched across the heavens like rivers of living wood.
Leaves the size of buildings shimmered beneath the sunlight.
Entire clouds drifted between its upper branches.
Its roots disappeared beyond the horizon itself.
The colossal tree seemed to connect the earth and sky together.
A pillar supporting reality.
A living axis around which the world revolved.
Nille felt his pulse quicken.
Every story.
Every myth.
Every ancient symbol.
Every civilization's legend.
They all pointed to the same thing.
His eyes grew wide with disbelief.
"It's a World Tree..." he whispered.
The words barely left his mouth.
Because standing before him was not a legend.
Not a story.
Not a religious symbol.
It was real.
The immense World Tree dominated the horizon, its branches stretching across the heavens like living rivers of emerald and gold. Nille stood silently, still trying to comprehend its existence, when the old man beside Neda let out a weary sigh.
"Neda," the elder said, rubbing his forehead, "your mother has been looking for you all morning."
The young boy immediately groaned.
"Oh no."
"Yes, oh no," the old man replied dryly.
"Your sister's coming-of-age ceremony is only a few days away. The entire family is preparing. There are harvests to gather, decorations to finish, offerings to organize, and somehow you've managed to disappear again."
Neda crossed his arms stubbornly.
"But I'm helping Father."
The old man's eyebrow twitched.
"Helping?"
Neda pointed proudly toward the distant chamber construction.
"The elders asked Father to build the altar chamber."
"I know."
"And the altar is important."
"I know."
"And if we finish it, we'll finally be able to communicate with Great Anu again."
The old man slowly closed his eyes.
Nille had the distinct impression this conversation had happened many times before.
Neda continued enthusiastically.
"Then maybe Great Anu can restore our wings."
The elder sighed.
"Neda—"
"And maybe we can finally return to our true forms!"
"Neda."
"And maybe—"
"Neda!"
The young boy finally stopped.
The old man fixed him with an exasperated stare.
"Your father is supervising master artisans."
Neda blinked.
"So?"
"You are still young"
Neda frowned.
"So?"
The elder pointed toward the construction site.
"The builders do not require your assistance."
"They do!"
"They do not."
"They said my enthusiasm helps."
The elder stared at him.
"They were trying to be polite."
Neda gasped as though deeply wounded.
Before the old man could continue his lecture, a familiar voice called out from behind them.
"There you are!"
A young girl hurried across the path.
Her long silver hair danced in the breeze as she approached, followed closely by another girl carrying a basket of flowers.
The moment Neda saw her, his expression changed.
"Temria!"
The girl immediately placed her hands on her hips.
"Neda, Mother has been searching everywhere."
The young boy pointed accusingly at the elder.
"Urazel found me first."
The elder named Urazel looked utterly unimpressed.
"Unfortunately."
The second girl struggled to hide a laugh.
Namaru was slightly taller than Temria and possessed bright golden eyes filled with amusement.
She bowed politely toward Urazel.
"Elder Urazel."
"Namaru."
The old man immediately looked relieved to see her.
At least one of the children appeared sensible.
Temria turned toward the elder.
"Has he been causing trouble again?"
"Again?" Urazel repeated.
"When did he stop?"
Namaru covered her mouth to hide another laugh.
Neda looked betrayed.
"You make me sound terrible."
Temria folded her arms.
"You climbed a dragon last week."
"It liked me."
"You fell into the irrigation canal."
"That wasn't my fault."
"You accidentally released three harvest drakes."
"They wanted freedom."
Urazel pointed dramatically at Neda.
"You see?"
Temria nodded.
"I see."
Neda looked toward Namaru for support.
His mistake became immediately apparent.
Namaru simply smiled sweetly.
"I agree with them."
Neda groaned.
"Traitor."
That finally broke the tension.
Even Urazel laughed.
Temria shook her head and grabbed her brother's wrist.
"Come on."
"But Father—"
"Father is busy."
"But the altar—"
"The artisans are working."
"But Great Anu—"
"Will survive one afternoon without your supervision."
Namaru stepped beside them, smiling.
"Besides, your sister's ceremony is important."
Neda hesitated.
The mention of his sister finally seemed to work.
"...It is."
Temria softened slightly.
"Mother wants everything perfect."
The boy's shoulders relaxed.
"Alright."
"Good."
Temria immediately began dragging him away.
Neda protested the entire time.
"I was doing important work!"
"No, you weren't."
"The chamber needs me!"
"It really doesn't."
"Father said I was helping!"
Temria glanced back toward Urazel.
The elder simply shook his head.
"No he didn't."
Namaru laughed openly.
The sound carried through the warm afternoon air.
As the three children disappeared down the road, still arguing playfully among themselves, Urazel watched them go with a tired smile.
For a brief moment, Nille forgot he was witnessing the distant past.
The scene felt so ordinary.
So alive.
Just a family.
Just children.
Just people living their lives beneath the shadow of the impossible World Tree.
And somehow, that made what he already knew was coming feel even more tragic. so Nille just watch and followed the three Nephilim as they continued with their task that day, or until this scenario ended.
Nille stood upon the grassy hill, staring across a landscape that should not have existed.
The vibrant fields, the flowing rivers, the distant settlements, and the countless people going about their daily lives felt impossibly real. The wind carried the scent of growing crops and fresh water. Birds crossed the sky overhead. Somewhere in the distance, children laughed.
Yet Nille knew none of it existed anymore.
This world had died long ago.
He watched silently for a few moments before speaking.
"Nyx."
No response came.
Nille frowned slightly.
"Nyx, are you seeing this?"
Silence.
His expression hardened.
Normally, Nyx responded instantly, whether he spoke aloud or mentally. Even when processing information, she would acknowledge his requests.
This time, there was nothing.
Not even an indication she had heard him.
For the first time since their bond had formed, it felt as though Nyx simply did not exist.
Nille tried again.
"Nyx."
Nothing.
The realization came quickly.
This wasn't a malfunction.
It wasn't interference.
And it wasn't a limitation of the Celestial Cloth.
Whatever he was experiencing had been intentionally separated from everything else.
Nyx could not see it.
Could not analyze it.
Could not record it.
Perhaps she wasn't even aware it was happening.
Nille slowly looked around at the ancient world unfolding before him.
Then he understood.
This wasn't a memory being shown to the Celestial Cloth.
It wasn't a recording being played back through some forgotten mechanism.
It was an experience.
One designed for a single observer.
Him.
And him alone.
A strange feeling settled over him.
Not fear.
Not excitement.
Something quieter.
More personal.
Throughout his life, Nille had often sensed that his path differed from those around him. His abilities had never developed the way other awakened individuals described. His perceptions rarely followed accepted explanations. Again and again, he found himself standing before mysteries that seemed to acknowledge his presence specifically.
Now, standing within a forgotten age, unable to share what he was seeing with anyone else, that feeling became impossible to ignore.
Perhaps some destinies could be witnessed together.
Others could not.
This one felt personal.
As if the past itself had reached across countless centuries and chosen to reveal something directly to him.
Not to the Rune Forge.
Not to the Academy.
Not even to Nyx.
Only him.
The thought should have felt isolating.
Instead, Nille found himself accepting it surprisingly easily.
He had long ago stopped expecting his life to follow ordinary rules.
If anything, this felt consistent with everything that had happened since he first began uncovering the truth behind his strange existence.
The wind continued to blow across the ancient landscape.
The young boy was already running ahead, laughing as he made his way toward a distant settlement.
Nille watched him for a moment.
Then he began walking after him.
Whatever this experience was meant to show him, he suspected it was only beginning.
And for now, there was nobody else meant to walk this path beside him.