Zero and Varin were three days into their journey across the Infinite Ocean, leaving behind the tumultuous lands of Sidra. The ever-expanding azure enveloped them, offering a sense of liberation and distance.
"HA!" Varin's excitement was palpable, her eyes sparkling like sunlight on the waves. "So you were a Dragon!" With an infectious delight, she tore off a piece of bread and dipped it into a jar, spreading it with a savory reddish-brown sauce.
Seated comfortably on the deck of Emperor Dysixsyx’s ship, they shared a humble yet gratifying lunch. While its simplicity was evident, the meal provided them with the nourishment required to endure until their next reprieve.
Dysixsyx's vessel was a majestic ship with three towering masts, each one adorned with a rich, vibrant red hue. The ship itself was constructed from sturdy oak, its weathered wood bearing the scars and stories of countless voyages across the tumultuous seas.
Varin's human façade had faded away, unveiling her true Vol form—hair resembling dark moss, eyes like smoldering pale orange embers, and skin adorned with a gentle verdant hue. She had swapped her work attire for something more suitable for their upcoming adventure: long white trousers paired with a blue button-up top sporting a slightly raised collar.
With a glint of mischief in her eye, Varin took a bite of the bread. "Oh, my goodness, you were right! This is amazing. What do you call it?"
"Rilu," Zero replied, dipping his own piece of bread into the sauce. "It’s from an island beyond the storm." He turned the jar, revealing its label: "From Our Shire To Yours...Rilu Bread Sauce...Crafted in Manheim by the Halflings of Yorkshire."
"You’ve been on the other side of the storm?" Varin's curiosity was unmistakable in her tone.
Zero shook his head thoughtfully. "Not since I became a Human, my travels have been mostly confined to the Outer Realms. I procured this delicacy through some smugglers.”
The tempest they speak of bears the ominous title of the Ocean's Wrath, a turbulent force of nature so potent and ferocious that only the boldest and most seasoned explorers dare to confront its treacherous fury. This cataclysmic storm, coupled with the imposing wall of ice to the west, has cleaved Arrithia into two distinct hemispheres: The Outer Realms, where Zero and Varin currently find themselves, and The Great Beyond. While the storm may be navigable with the right crew and strategy, the wall of ice, now known as the island of Ayce, presents an insurmountable obstacle.
Once a Spirit Island, Ayce could only be approached from a specific angle, during a precise moment, on a particular day. However, when Ymir first stumbled upon it, he recognized its potential as the ideal habitat for himself and his people, the Frost Giants. He marshaled every ounce of his formidable strength to ensure that Ayce remained anchored in its frozen solitude for all eternity. But such an act of defiance did not come without its consequences.
The island's frigid embrace possesses the power to slow one's heart to a standstill, freeze bone marrow to an icy halt, and send shivers down the very core of one's DNA. While we have some understanding of Ayce's origins, the storm's genesis remains a closely guarded secret, concealed from the prying eyes of common folk. Even those with a faint inkling of its beginnings are few and far between, shrouded in the enigmatic veil of its mysterious birth.
Zero himself possesses nothing more than a wisp of a rumor, a thread spun from the fabric of speculation. It is said, in hushed tones passed between whispered breaths, that a Higher—one of the Gods and Goddesses who hold dominion over the world of Arrithia—once stood forsaken at the altar and now her tears fill the eastern hemisphere of Arrithia.
"What about beyond Ayce? I know they say the cold on the island is worse than the weather of the storm, but I wasn’t sure if you know… So like… Are you a Dragon or not?" Varin inquired, her words punctuated by a hearty bite of bread. "Don’t think this delicious bread can distract—."
However, their conversation was rudely interrupted as the ship abruptly shuddered, sending both of them and their lunch sprawling across the deck. Zero, reacting with lightning speed, sprang to his feet. Before him loomed an immense serpent-like creature, its gaping maw appearing more than capable of swallowing the entire horizon.
"To answer your questions, no, Ayce is so cold that even me, who, yes, used to be a Dragon, would freeze to death without the right protection. Now would you be so kind as to find refuge below deck for a moment?" Zero's switch to urgency was as clear as the sea breeze.
The sea monster arched upwards, revealing its iridescent turquoise scales and delicate fins. Its yellow eyes, sharp as the sun's rays, locked onto Zero, and a deafening roar reverberated as it lunged forward, rows of fearsome teeth bared.
Zero's right hand clenched, an ephemeral yellow aura enveloping it. "Shoooow meee…" he whispered, the aura expanding to form a protective barrier. With a fluid motion, he thrust his hand forward. "SHIELD!"
The thrust of his punch heated the water in the air, creating a scorching wall of steam along the starboard side. The creature breached the barrier, writhing in torment before retreating beneath the surface. It resurfaced on the portside, its dark silhouette contrasting against the foamy waves.
"How should I address you?" Zero inquired calmly.
The serpent recoiled, shaking its head in defiance. Then, in a voice that resonated with depth and femininity, it answered, "Jorgunheim."
"Very well, Jorgunheim. I am Zero. My companion and I are merely passing through. If you would graciously permit our passage—“
"SILENCE, HUMAN!" Jorgunheim recoiled, her voice resounding with unwavering authority. "Your treachery will not overcome me." With a swift, poised movement, she readied herself for a decisive strike. "YOU WANT THE HEART OF THE SEA!" And with that proclamation, she lunged forward.
Zero's fist clenched resolutely. "I apologize, Jorg, but I'm on a tight schedule… Shooow meee..." The yellow aura materialized once again. "...SWORD!" Thunder roared with a deafening crescendo.
Jorgunheim froze in her attack, her focus faltering. Her vision dimmed, and her form tumbled into the sea. The once-lustrous scales lost their sheen as she sank to the ocean's depths.
Zero rushed to the ship's edge, his hand desperately reaching out in a futile attempt to grasp her. "Oh noooo… I went too hard.” He hastily pulled his hand back, his face twisted in a blend of disgust and frustration. As her silhouette gradually disappeared into the foamy depths, he let out a heavy sigh. "Blast it, a Sea Beast would have been an extraordinary addition... I wish Maeve were here."
"What's the Heart of the Sea?" Varin inquired, curiosity lacing her words.
Zero turned towards her, concealing his clenched fists and the faint, yellow glow emanating from them. "What? Oh!" He quickly shook his head. "Not the slightest clue."
Varin's attention shifted upward, and she pressed on, "Well then, do you recognize that?"
Following her gaze skyward, Zero's eyes widened and a playful grin played on his lips. "Ah, ask and I shall receive..." He traced the trail of ebony energy streaking through the air, zigzagging like an untamed bolt of lightning. "...that would be my wife."
"Oh, alright..." She shook her head in disbelief. "Hold on... You're married?" Varin's incredulity was unmistakable in her voice.
Zero nodded, his smile growing wider. "Eight hundred years next month… Give or take a century or two I think?”
Varin's eyes flickered with confusion, her brow furrowing. "How… How old are you?"
"Hmm?" Zero's focus wavered from the streak. "Oh, um..." He pondered for a moment, tilting his head in contemplation. "Five… NO. Seven! …thousand and something, yeah, seven thousand and something or another, I don’t know, I don’t really keep count, I’m not really a math guy."
Varin's mouth opened, but words eluded her. Zero, however, had already shifted his attention, striding over to the portside. The horizon revealed the island of Vol and the Castle of Connections—known as Schlass vun Verbindung in Volite—peeking slightly above it.
The castle, an architectural marvel, was nestled within a colossal tree. Rising over five hundred meters in height and three hundred meters in width, its grandeur was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Carved into the trunk, the castle formed a labyrinth of chambers and corridors, with dwellings clinging to the tree via sturdy vines. A carved narrative adorned the outside of the trunk, weaving a tale from the base to the highest branch, recounting a story as ancient and enigmatic as the land itself.
Vol's capital, Ek Hajaar Haathon Ka Shahar—The City of a Thousand Hands—stood as a tribute to the intricate tapestry of Vol's cultures. Guided by Queen Amara and the mystical Tree Ents, the forest had been reshaped, the river rerouted, creating concentric circles that encompassed the castle.
The outermost ring was a lush embrace of woodland, where Ents wandered and Shroomer villages dotted the eastern outskirts. Progressing inward, the residential circle showcased an array of homes, each a testament to the diverse architectural styles of its occupants. The third section housed the bustling Trade District, the heartbeat of commerce, where farms and shops thrived, catering to all of Vol's residents.
Upon nearing the island, visitors are guided by the wind to a natural bridge formed by two ancient trees that had fused and intertwined over countless millennia. Guard towers flanked the entrance, manned by MoonShadow and Forest Elves who greeted newcomers with practiced elegance, ensuring their disarmament. Vol's rigid prohibition of external materials had given rise to a distinct yet largely ineffective smuggling network.
However, as Zero and Varin drew near, they were met with a sight that defied expectations. What had once been a lush canopy of dark green cypress leaves, nestled amidst thick orange boughs, was now ashen and devoid of life.
Zero's instincts kicked in, and he swiftly moved to the helm, diverting the ship to the east. He fought against the wind that sought to pull them towards the island's entrance, declaring, "Something's not right."
"What are you doing?" Varin's voice was edged with confusion.
Zero turned the ship harder, breaking free from the wind's grasp, and brought the vessel to a halt. His voice trembled as he said, "The castle tree, it has no leaves, and its branches… I… I've never seen that before."
Varin's eyes widened, disbelief giving way to fear. "No..." she stammered. "What color were the branches?"
"White," Zero replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
Varin's heart sank like a stone, and a shimmer of tears pooled in her eyes, memories of a haunting melody her mother used to weave resurfacing in her mind. The hue around her nose transformed into a soft shade of lavender, mirroring the emotions entwined within her. With a quiver in her voice, she managed to whisper, "There's a verse, etched in my memory from when I was a kid…” A heavy pause caught her, her words catching like a lump in her throat as she fought to keep her emotions in check. “…whenever my mother had to journey to meet the Elder Elves of Tzang, she'd sing it to herself."
As the words left her lips, Varin broke down, her body wracked with sobs, turned a somber shade of blue. Words were no longer necessary; Zero understood the unspoken truth—Queen Amara, the Heart of Vol, Varin's mother, was dead.
When the Moon shines bright in summer days
They speak of the story that never fades
The lady of love
The lady of thee
The lady of the castle
Up high in the tree
They speak of the day
We dread to come
When the castle tree
Comes undone
If the castle tree fades to white
The lady of the land has lost her might
Zero and Varin were three days into their journey across the Infinite Ocean, leaving behind the tumultuous lands of Sidra. The ever-expanding azure enveloped them, offering a sense of liberation and distance.
"HA!" Varin's excitement was palpable, her eyes sparkling like sunlight on the waves. "So you were a Dragon!" With an infectious delight, she tore off a piece of bread and dipped it into a jar, spreading it with a savory reddish-brown sauce.
Seated comfortably on the deck of Emperor Dysixsyx’s ship, they shared a humble yet gratifying lunch. While its simplicity was evident, the meal provided them with the nourishment required to endure until their next reprieve.
Dysixsyx's vessel was a majestic ship with three towering masts, each one adorned with a rich, vibrant red hue. The ship itself was constructed from sturdy oak, its weathered wood bearing the scars and stories of countless voyages across the tumultuous seas.
Varin's human façade had faded away, unveiling her true Vol form—hair resembling dark moss, eyes like smoldering pale orange embers, and skin adorned with a gentle verdant hue. She had swapped her work attire for something more suitable for their upcoming adventure: long white trousers paired with a blue button-up top sporting a slightly raised collar.
With a glint of mischief in her eye, Varin took a bite of the bread. "Oh, my goodness, you were right! This is amazing. What do you call it?"
"Rilu," Zero replied, dipping his own piece of bread into the sauce. "It’s from an island beyond the storm." He turned the jar, revealing its label: "From Our Shire To Yours...Rilu Bread Sauce...Crafted in Manheim by the Halflings of Yorkshire."
"You’ve been on the other side of the storm?" Varin's curiosity was unmistakable in her tone.
Zero shook his head thoughtfully. "Not since I became a Human, my travels have been mostly confined to the Outer Realms. I procured this delicacy through some smugglers.”
The tempest they speak of bears the ominous title of the Ocean's Wrath, a turbulent force of nature so potent and ferocious that only the boldest and most seasoned explorers dare to confront its treacherous fury. This cataclysmic storm, coupled with the imposing wall of ice to the west, has cleaved Arrithia into two distinct hemispheres: The Outer Realms, where Zero and Varin currently find themselves, and The Great Beyond. While the storm may be navigable with the right crew and strategy, the wall of ice, now known as the island of Ayce, presents an insurmountable obstacle.
Once a Spirit Island, Ayce could only be approached from a specific angle, during a precise moment, on a particular day. However, when Ymir first stumbled upon it, he recognized its potential as the ideal habitat for himself and his people, the Frost Giants. He marshaled every ounce of his formidable strength to ensure that Ayce remained anchored in its frozen solitude for all eternity. But such an act of defiance did not come without its consequences.
The island's frigid embrace possesses the power to slow one's heart to a standstill, freeze bone marrow to an icy halt, and send shivers down the very core of one's DNA. While we have some understanding of Ayce's origins, the storm's genesis remains a closely guarded secret, concealed from the prying eyes of common folk. Even those with a faint inkling of its beginnings are few and far between, shrouded in the enigmatic veil of its mysterious birth.
Zero himself possesses nothing more than a wisp of a rumor, a thread spun from the fabric of speculation. It is said, in hushed tones passed between whispered breaths, that a Higher—one of the Gods and Goddesses who hold dominion over the world of Arrithia—once stood forsaken at the altar and now her tears fill the eastern hemisphere of Arrithia.
"What about beyond Ayce? I know they say the cold on the island is worse than the weather of the storm, but I wasn’t sure if you know… So like… Are you a Dragon or not?" Varin inquired, her words punctuated by a hearty bite of bread. "Don’t think this delicious bread can distract—."
However, their conversation was rudely interrupted as the ship abruptly shuddered, sending both of them and their lunch sprawling across the deck. Zero, reacting with lightning speed, sprang to his feet. Before him loomed an immense serpent-like creature, its gaping maw appearing more than capable of swallowing the entire horizon.
"To answer your questions, no, Ayce is so cold that even me, who, yes, used to be a Dragon, would freeze to death without the right protection. Now would you be so kind as to find refuge below deck for a moment?" Zero's switch to urgency was as clear as the sea breeze.
The sea monster arched upwards, revealing its iridescent turquoise scales and delicate fins. Its yellow eyes, sharp as the sun's rays, locked onto Zero, and a deafening roar reverberated as it lunged forward, rows of fearsome teeth bared.
Zero's right hand clenched, an ephemeral yellow aura enveloping it. "Shoooow meee…" he whispered, the aura expanding to form a protective barrier. With a fluid motion, he thrust his hand forward. "SHIELD!"
The thrust of his punch heated the water in the air, creating a scorching wall of steam along the starboard side. The creature breached the barrier, writhing in torment before retreating beneath the surface. It resurfaced on the portside, its dark silhouette contrasting against the foamy waves.
"How should I address you?" Zero inquired calmly.
The serpent recoiled, shaking its head in defiance. Then, in a voice that resonated with depth and femininity, it answered, "Jorgunheim."
"Very well, Jorgunheim. I am Zero. My companion and I are merely passing through. If you would graciously permit our passage—“
"SILENCE, HUMAN!" Jorgunheim recoiled, her voice resounding with unwavering authority. "Your treachery will not overcome me." With a swift, poised movement, she readied herself for a decisive strike. "YOU WANT THE HEART OF THE SEA!" And with that proclamation, she lunged forward.
Zero's fist clenched resolutely. "I apologize, Jorg, but I'm on a tight schedule… Shooow meee..." The yellow aura materialized once again. "...SWORD!" Thunder roared with a deafening crescendo.
Jorgunheim froze in her attack, her focus faltering. Her vision dimmed, and her form tumbled into the sea. The once-lustrous scales lost their sheen as she sank to the ocean's depths.
Zero rushed to the ship's edge, his hand desperately reaching out in a futile attempt to grasp her. "Oh noooo… I went too hard.” He hastily pulled his hand back, his face twisted in a blend of disgust and frustration. As her silhouette gradually disappeared into the foamy depths, he let out a heavy sigh. "Blast it, a Sea Beast would have been an extraordinary addition... I wish Maeve were here."
"What's the Heart of the Sea?" Varin inquired, curiosity lacing her words.
Zero turned towards her, concealing his clenched fists and the faint, yellow glow emanating from them. "What? Oh!" He quickly shook his head. "Not the slightest clue."
Varin's attention shifted upward, and she pressed on, "Well then, do you recognize that?"
Following her gaze skyward, Zero's eyes widened and a playful grin played on his lips. "Ah, ask and I shall receive..." He traced the trail of ebony energy streaking through the air, zigzagging like an untamed bolt of lightning. "...that would be my wife."
"Oh, alright..." She shook her head in disbelief. "Hold on... You're married?" Varin's incredulity was unmistakable in her voice.
Zero nodded, his smile growing wider. "Eight hundred years next month… Give or take a century or two I think?”
Varin's eyes flickered with confusion, her brow furrowing. "How… How old are you?"
"Hmm?" Zero's focus wavered from the streak. "Oh, um..." He pondered for a moment, tilting his head in contemplation. "Five… NO. Seven! …thousand and something, yeah, seven thousand and something or another, I don’t know, I don’t really keep count, I’m not really a math guy."
Varin's mouth opened, but words eluded her. Zero, however, had already shifted his attention, striding over to the portside. The horizon revealed the island of Vol and the Castle of Connections—known as Schlass vun Verbindung in Volite—peeking slightly above it.
The castle, an architectural marvel, was nestled within a colossal tree. Rising over five hundred meters in height and three hundred meters in width, its grandeur was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Carved into the trunk, the castle formed a labyrinth of chambers and corridors, with dwellings clinging to the tree via sturdy vines. A carved narrative adorned the outside of the trunk, weaving a tale from the base to the highest branch, recounting a story as ancient and enigmatic as the land itself.
Vol's capital, Ek Hajaar Haathon Ka Shahar—The City of a Thousand Hands—stood as a tribute to the intricate tapestry of Vol's cultures. Guided by Queen Amara and the mystical Tree Ents, the forest had been reshaped, the river rerouted, creating concentric circles that encompassed the castle.
The outermost ring was a lush embrace of woodland, where Ents wandered and Shroomer villages dotted the eastern outskirts. Progressing inward, the residential circle showcased an array of homes, each a testament to the diverse architectural styles of its occupants. The third section housed the bustling Trade District, the heartbeat of commerce, where farms and shops thrived, catering to all of Vol's residents.
Upon nearing the island, visitors are guided by the wind to a natural bridge formed by two ancient trees that had fused and intertwined over countless millennia. Guard towers flanked the entrance, manned by MoonShadow and Forest Elves who greeted newcomers with practiced elegance, ensuring their disarmament. Vol's rigid prohibition of external materials had given rise to a distinct yet largely ineffective smuggling network.
However, as Zero and Varin drew near, they were met with a sight that defied expectations. What had once been a lush canopy of dark green cypress leaves, nestled amidst thick orange boughs, was now ashen and devoid of life.
Zero's instincts kicked in, and he swiftly moved to the helm, diverting the ship to the east. He fought against the wind that sought to pull them towards the island's entrance, declaring, "Something's not right."
"What are you doing?" Varin's voice was edged with confusion.
Zero turned the ship harder, breaking free from the wind's grasp, and brought the vessel to a halt. His voice trembled as he said, "The castle tree, it has no leaves, and its branches… I… I've never seen that before."
Varin's eyes widened, disbelief giving way to fear. "No..." she stammered. "What color were the branches?"
"White," Zero replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
Varin's heart sank like a stone, and a shimmer of tears pooled in her eyes, memories of a haunting melody her mother used to weave resurfacing in her mind. The hue around her nose transformed into a soft shade of lavender, mirroring the emotions entwined within her. With a quiver in her voice, she managed to whisper, "There's a verse, etched in my memory from when I was a kid…” A heavy pause caught her, her words catching like a lump in her throat as she fought to keep her emotions in check. “…whenever my mother had to journey to meet the Elder Elves of Tzang, she'd sing it to herself."
As the words left her lips, Varin broke down, her body wracked with sobs, turned a somber shade of blue. Words were no longer necessary; Zero understood the unspoken truth—Queen Amara, the Heart of Vol, Varin's mother, was dead.
When the Moon shines bright in summer days
They speak of the story that never fades
The lady of love
The lady of thee
The lady of the castle
Up high in the tree
They speak of the day
We dread to come
When the castle tree
Comes undone
If the castle tree fades to white
The lady of the land has lost her might
