The Secret World

One person almost succeeded in destabilizing Mother Sky. What remains of that unspeakable one's attempt is a fragmented world with abnormal rules which were created by that person. That is where the Grand Priests transported Number Two, the Temple of No Knowledge, a refuge for fantastical apparitions.

Number Two fell onto the wooden floor of the Temple's entrance with a loud thud. As he lifted his head, he saw a living oak tree with bushy eyebrows, a wrinkled countenance, and withered branches blocking his sole path.

The tree spirit boomed, "No one has visited the farthest edge of the world for centuries. What brings you here to the prison where all light melts into the darkness of oblivion."

"I want the clue so I can visit Mother Sky, the omnipotent, knowledgeless creator of the world," replied Number Two.

The Oak Tree grimaced, "Drop your impossible dream. You will be like a frail flake of snow struggling to persist only to be melted into nothingness. Listen, traveler, to the story I will show you and if you are still unfazed by the perils which lie ahead, you may continue unobstructed in your journey."

Number Two lost all control of his five senses for a brief eternity until he heard a high-pitched squeal.

A small child tugged the arm of the tree spirit who now had ruby red leaves towards the trough of a lush valley. As they approached, they heard the idyllic sounds of birds serenading and elderly trees conversing with one another.

There were only four streams that intersected at the bottom of the valley. The kid walked up to the living trees, staring at the glistening droplets of morning dew on top of their leaves. The Oak Tree pulled him away in worry that he would carelessly tug off a leaf, but the elders smiled at naivety, a sweet honey too easily lost and never regainable.

The kid ran into the running streams with infinite energy as the worried, middle-aged Oak Tree trudged on. It was easy to find joy out of anything; there was plenty of divinity in the fields of grass, shattered acorns, and chilly water of the streams.

It was these scarce memories that caused the Oak Tree to seek out the same place a century later. No hints of life remained beside the small, spiky weeds growing out of the dry cracks of the ground. He murmured two almost unintelligible words under his breath, "The Void."

The tree spirit tried to walk towards the remnant of the streams, but the wildly growing reeds blocked any attempt of going further. Circling around the rapidly growing weeds, he finally saw a muddy puddle, the only remnant of the flourishing streams. Abandoned. Everything. Gone.

The Tree gazed down at his branches and roots and chuckled, "I'm old."

His memories spun in his head like a film. He could see the elders resting on the side of the streams, smiling while playing with the child. He saw himself with a luscious head of leaves trying to keep up.

The Oak Tree felt like a child, a foolish one at that. Looking down at his hands, he saw his wrinkles exponentially multiplying every second, his leaves turning into ash, and his face becoming withered.

He returned to that bench every year alone, the seasons of glistening snow and raging winds assuming the never-changing role of his companions of interminable solitude. The valley was gone by the seventh thousandths and eighty-first year.

Number Two asked softly, "Who was that child?"

"It was my child, a pine sapling," the tree spirit replied.

"Mother Sky has been in front of you for the totality of your existence. Mother Sky is time, space, everything, and nothing, the infinitely nonexistent laws which operate the natural order of things," asserted the Oak Tree.

The lonely tree continued, "There is no eternity which you can feel with your current power level."

"Think of your memories of the far past which guard you against the venomous dread of conscious existence. That is the place you must endeavor towards, a kingdom that is precisely made up of the recollections and emotions of all living beings." The Tree closed his eyes and curled up what was left of his branches.

"Think about the time when you knew nothing, felt nothing, and had nothing to desperately bolster the core of your uncertain being, the time where all your effortless, infantile actions of babbling and crawling were derived from the invisible powers of Mother Sky."

The tree spirit raised his voice to the peak and declared, "That is where you shall obtain enlightenment and finally discover Mother Sky."