The Tree of Light - II

A splash. A desperate struggle. The sound of something thrashing against the water, gasping for air.

Subra's body tensed as he listened. Something was thrashing in the water, gasping for air. He crouched lower, carefully moving toward the source of the noise. His heart pounded in his chest, but his movements were silent—cautious.

He peeked from behind a large boulder.

His breath caught.

A creature unlike any he had ever seen was drowning in the stream.

It was no bigger than a hamster, with a sleek black body that shone under the fading sunlight. But the strangest thing was its wings—large, pure white, and far too big for its small body. It had six blue eyes, all wide with panic. The contrast between its dark body and glowing eyes sent a chill through Subra's spine.

What… is that?

The creature flapped its oversized wings desperately, but they were soaked and heavy with water, dragging it down rather than helping it float. Tiny claws scratched uselessly at the surface, creating ripples that faded into the rushing current.

And then—

"Leave it. Do not interfere."

The voice did not come from the creature. It did not come from anywhere.

It echoed inside Subra's mind.

Subra stiffened, whipping his head around. Who said that?

His heart pounded. He saw no one, heard nothing but the stream and the distant rustling of trees. Yet, the warning had been clear—as if spoken directly into his soul.

"This world is dangerous," the voice continued. "You know nothing about it. Do not waste your life for something insignificant."

Subra clenched his fists. The logical part of his mind told him to listen. This wasn't his problem. It could be a trap. He didn't even know if this thing was friendly. He should walk away.

But then—

The creature locked eyes with him.

Subra froze.

He wasn't sure why, but for a moment… he saw something in those six blue eyes. A silent plea. A desperate cry for help.

His throat tightened.

He knew that feeling too well.

He had drowned before—not in water, but in silence, in neglect. Gasping for air in a world that never let him breathe, reaching for help that never came.

And now—

…

That's right. Walk away. Just like they did.

No one saved me. Why should I—

(No.)

This is different. This is…

(Damn it!)

(FUCK!)

…

He was about to do the same.

His fingers twitched.

But—

It's not my problem.

He forced himself to take a step back.

The moment he did—

The creature sank beneath the surface.

Tiny bubbles rose, then vanished. The water stilled.

His body moved before his mind could stop it.

He dived.

The cold hit him like a wall, shocking his system. The current wasn't strong, but it was disorienting. He kicked his legs, pushing deeper. The fading light barely reached beneath the surface, but he could make out a small, struggling shape sinking further and further into the void.

DAMN IT. DAMN IT. DAMN IT.

A storm of thoughts flooded his mind as he swam down.

Why am I doing this? This could be a trap. I should turn back. I should—

His fingers closed around the creature.

Small. Fragile. Trembling.

Subra held it gently, almost instinctively—like a mother shielding a child.

He turned, kicking toward the surface. His lungs burned, demanding air.

Then—

Pain.

A sudden, intense pain shot through his forearm.

Subra clenched his teeth, barely holding back a scream.

The creature had dug its claws into his skin. Tiny but razor-sharp, they tore through flesh, rawing blood that curled into the water like crimson smoke.

It was panicking. Struggling. Trying to escape.

Subra could barely see, but he knew—if he let go, it would drown.

And if he didn't let go, he might not make it to the surface.

His vision blurred.

Every instinct told him to drop it and save himself.

But his grip tightened.

He endured the pain.

And then—

He broke through the surface.

Gasping. Coughing. Bloodied.

The moment he reached the grassy bank, he dropped the creature onto the ground. Then, his arms gave out, and he collapsed onto his knees, panting.

His left forearm throbbed in pain. He finally looked down at it.

His breath caught.

The skin had been ripped open. Deep wounds ran along his arm, dark blood pooling from the gashes. His palm felt numb. He couldn't even move his fingers.

His mind spun.

How bad is it? If this gets infected—

A small movement caught his attention.

The creature.

It was shivering, drenched, its wings drooping. For a moment, it flinched away from him. Fear. Wariness.

Then—slowly, hesitantly—it stepped closer.

Subra held still.

The creature pressed its tiny head against his wounded forearm.

A sharp pain shot through him.

"—Ahh!"

Subra winced, shutting his eyes. His arm burned. The pain wasn't fading—it was getting worse.

Then, slowly…

It changed.

The burning turned into warmth. The warmth turned into relief.

He opened his eyes.

Black roots had emerged from the creature's head, wrapping around his wounds.

They pulsed. Twisting. Spreading.

Subra's breath caught. The pain… was gone?

In mere moments, his flesh had sealed itself back together. The blood had vanished. His fingers twitched. The numbness was gone.

The black roots retreated into the creature's body. It slowly pulled away, staring up at him.

Then—

It bowed.

A small, quiet gesture. A sign of respect. A small thank you.

Then, without another sound, it spread its massive white wings and took off—flying toward the Tree of Light.

Subra watched as its tiny figure blurred, fading into the distance.

His vision blurred.

And, without warning, his body collapsed.

——————

The mysterious voice returned.

"Compassion is a choice."

The words did not echo. They did not demand.

They simply were.

"You could have walked away."

 "You could have left it to die."

 "And yet, in an unknown world, with no knowledge of its dangers, you risked your life without hesitation."

 "Even as pain tore through your body, even as the creature itself fought against you—you never let go, enduring pain that would have made an ordinary human faint—all without expecting anything in return."

The voice was neither warm nor cruel. It was neutral. A force that simply observed.

"You expect nothing in return. And yet, the world has already repaid you."

A pause.

Then, in a softer whisper—

"I wish you luck on your journey, Subra Fitz."

[TO BE CONTINUED]