Happy Birthday, Universe!

ㅤ The room was in complete chaos. Numerous books and ancient documents were scattered carelessly across the table and chairs, but not a single sheet lay underfoot. The painting seemed like chaos only to outsiders, but the owner of the room needed all the space, so he used everything he could. "It can't be…" Klarth felt like his heart had stopped beating in his chest, he was so shocked by the discovery. Finding reliable information about at least three ancient civilizations that perished in Ragnarok seemed like a very difficult task. Klarth, however, revealed the veil of mystery from much more distant times. "It can't be…" he repeated over and over again. After reading the next deciphered line of the document (one of the few preserved in Thor in paper form), Klarth abruptly pulled the curtain to look at the two moons. So ordinary. Familiar since childhood. And they kept countless secrets, the biggest of which was that they had been separated thousands of years ago. "Is all this really true?" He, the only one, had the simplest way to find out — without thinking twice, Klarth began to read the summoning spell. The aquamarine in the ring sparkled with a responsive light. Discontent was visible in Undine's eyes: there was no enemy to defeat, no obstacle to destroy. Just paper with a language long forgotten by people. "Everything that is written here…" "True to the last word," she understood the essence of the question. She cut him off mid-sentence, not wanting to waste time on someone so brazen as to call upon her power for something that stupid. "And the dates? If we compare them with the modern calendar, then there are only a few days left…" "You are strange, human," Undine exhaled wearily and resignedly, disappearing, freeing herself from further interrogation. "It's true. It's all true. It can't be…" Klarth sat down on the empty corner of the chair. He made more than just the discovery of the century. And not even millennia. Klarth tried not to think that no one but him would understand; that his words will not reach the ears of important professors, and therefore the world. He had someone to pass on his knowledge to. He knew someone who, a hundred years from now, would be able to convey the importance of this day. And he knew someone who could deliver the message. "Mirald, I'm leaving immediately!" he shouted, barely aware that the girl had long since fallen asleep. "Don't expect to see me before next weekend!" However, terribly sleepy, Mirald came out to the threshold, rubbing her eyes. "Where are you going? " "To consolidate history!" he exclaimed proudly. "At least wait until dawn," Mirald dragged the disobedient man along with her. "History won't run away." Reluctantly, he had to admit she was right. As well as taking a sober look at the reckless idea of ​​setting out on a journey in the dead of night. "Maybe a little sleep really wouldn't hurt."

* * *

The weather in Euclid was wonderful. Warm and dry — ideal for travel. Bright butterflies, together with inconspicuous, but still beautiful ones, fluttered from flower to flower. An elderly woman was collecting the most wonderful bouquets, from which Klarth could not take his eyes off. 'Girls are usually given flowers…' he thoughtfully looked at the velvety and delicate petals. Klarth didn't buy a single bouquet. He preferred a bag of seeds of the most unpretentious flowers to them. He would have forked out for expensive ones, but there was no one to look after them. Choice without choice. ㅤ 'I hope she hasn’t run off anywhere, ' Klarth thought about his first destination, the Lonely Valley. The round was forced, and the meeting could wait, but Klarth felt that without it his journey to the origins of history would be incomplete. He was lucky: despite it being the afternoon, Arche was sound asleep in the house. And there was no desire in her to go anywhere. Especially in Belladem… A place where, almost a century later, a special person will be born. A place of long-awaited meeting and painful separation. "Okay, if you don’t want to go, at least listen," he finally gave in. "You will have to give all this to Cless. I'll try to write down the results of my research in the letter, but you should at least understand what it will be about." "Why? You'll write everything down," Arche said, genuinely surprised. She would have been glad to have some fun, she knew that the depression had really gotten to her head, but she didn't have the strength. Or the will. "You don't understand! This discovery is worth all the knowledge in our world! It reveals not only the origin of the Great Tree, but also the connection of our planet with Derris-Karlan! "Derris-Kharlan? Isn't that...?" "Yes, exactly. And everything was once one." "It can’t be…" Arche fell into Klarth’s recent mode of disbelief. "Exactly! Now do you understand me?!" Klarth rejoiced at the reaction like a child. "I want to hear the missing piece of the story from Martel, and while I'm at it…" he checked the pouch attached to his belt. "Come with me. Let's make this day great." "You bet!" Arche perked up a little, grabbing her trusty broom. ㅤ The journey to the village of Belladem was not tiring and brought a lot of joy. Instilled hope and faith in Arche. Klarth became even more inspired by talking. They didn’t make a stop at the mountain pass, even though it was already quite dark: the village beckoned with its nearness. They arrived, however, when there was no light in any of the windows, so they had to spend the night in someone’s barn on a bed of hay. "It's still better than the mountains," Arche grumbled before going to sleep. After all, it was she who insisted on not taking a break there. ㅤ A quiet, cold, and hungry night didn't restore much energy to the weary travelers. In the morning, they managed to sleep in warm beds thanks to the elder's kindness. Thanks to his wife, they ate their fill upon awakening. Not afraid of being ridiculed, Klarth shared his discovery with the wise old couple. He told them why he was so eager to reach Belladem so quickly and outlined his plans. "Do you wish to hear the story from the spirit of the Great Tree only in the company of the young lady, or are we permitted to be present?" the old man asked politely. He respected the importance of the discovery for the scholar himself, so he reserved for him the right to be the first to learn the truth about the creation of the current Aselia from the spirit of the Great Tree. "Of course, come with us! The more witnesses, the more people who spread this knowledge, the more significant this day will be. Someday, I want it to be celebrated by the whole world…" Klarth quietly shared his humble dream. "But enough of these dreams! Let's start small, look into the past. Together." The elder gathered all those who wished and led them along. A considerable crowd formed. ㅤ The sacred forest still gave a feeling of comfort. Animals lived in peace, not even afraid of people. The pond's surface shimmered with the reflections of rays of light filtering through the tree branches. The whisper of the leaves was soothing. Truly a sacred place! "I, Klarth F. Lester," he spoke with inspiration, standing before the Great Tree, "the summoner, have not come here today for a pact. Spirit of the Great Tree, Martel, heed my call, appear before us. Accept our gifts and allow us to gain a small portion of your vast knowledge." A beautiful girl with long green hair, gently blown by the wind, in light white robes and with a staff, materialized, walking barefoot on the protruding roots. "You know, I'm no ordinary spirit, hero Klarth. You don't need to be so formal with me. What you want to know, I can't tell you in one go. That is, of course, if you want to know everything, down to the most fateful details." "I'm prepared to spend years with you, recording lost history for future generations. But first, I'd like to confirm the accuracy of my research." Klarth took a deep breath, bracing himself for an answer he was almost certain would come. So, to keep his excitement from becoming too overwhelming, he carefully controlled his breathing. "This day… Was it this day, thousands of years ago, that the new Aselia was born?" "Yes," Martel nodded. She named, to the exact year, the day of the unification of two worlds into one, once separated by the will of strong one. She briefly explained who the new Great Tree was named after and who gave it. Everyone was completely transfixed, their consciousness a blur of wonder. Only Klarth and Arche, prepared for such a story, listened with admiration, anticipating an even more interesting, detailed tale Taking advantage of the pause, looking into the green eyes of the Spirit, before the villagers had time to come to their senses and overwhelm her with a bunch of incoherent questions, Klarth started: "Before we delve further into history, allow me to give you a gift," he said, pulling out a bag of seeds. "I don't know what a person can give to the Spirit, but girls are usually given flowers. But I'm afraid a plucked bouquet would wither too quickly, especially from the perspective of one destined to live forever. Therefore, I wish to plant these seeds," he said, taking a handful and opening his palm, "so that these flowers will delight your eyes for as long as possible." "And even if these don't last long, I'll bring you more. Much more beautiful!" Arche jokingly stuck her tongue out at Klarth. "The 'much more beautiful' one needs constant care and protection from everything possible," Klarth reproached his friend. "We’ll take care of that," the old woman, the elder’s wife, took her husband’s arm carefully. "I have no doubt," Klarth smiled gratefully. "In any case, what I wanted to say," he returned to the radiant green eyes, beginning to fill with such human emotions, igniting with life, "happy birthday," he tossed the seeds like fireworks. "Thank you for continuing to care for our world and for us, no matter what." For the first time, Klarth and Arche heard Martel's laughter. Quiet, restrained, yet filled with genuine joy. She illuminated the scattered seeds with the light of mana, so that in that moment they would sprout and blossom into simple, enchanting flowers. "No one has said those words to me in a long time. Not since he died," she continued to smile, giving in to an uncharacteristic feeling of nostalgia. "Thank you, too, for remembering Yggdrasil. Please continue to give it your love — it will be the best gift you can give us." Having seen the miracle and believing in the previously absurd words of the mad scholar, the villagers didn't have time to organize a celebration. They were too engrossed in Martel's tale of old times. A time when she, as a spirit, didn't yet exist, but there was a girl who brought her into existence. About the time when the world changed radically, ceasing to depend on mana like Derris-Kharlan. So many stories had been collected over the millennia. Klarth wrote everything down, trying not to lose a single word. Sometimes people interrupted him, hoping to extract from him a promise that they would be allowed to read the entire history as it was written, so that they could return to work with a clear conscience. The children stayed up late, but, exhausted, were eventually escorted back to the village by Arche. Klarth, under the light of Martel, returned to sleepless nights. ㅤ