Following a small trek through the Emerald Sea, Cyrene and Gideon arrive at The Sapling. At the very base of the thistle lies a large carved opening. Cyrene and Gideon enter the arbor, and to Cyrene’s surprise, she finds an entire foundation.
Bulky, arched, dark-slated brambles reached as high as five hundred feet. The Sapling held a small populace of inhabitants living on different elevations of jagged thorns that protruded inward. A collection of vines was used as platforms for ascending the tree. Miscellaneous tasks occupied denizens of the bramble: cooking over a small fire, crafting with various woods and metals, and generally, happily playing among each other. Yet Cyrene’s interest expanded when she examined The Sapling's dwellers and saw their peculiar body compositions. Many of the citizens of The Sapling were similar in appearance to Gideon; their distinctive forms incited Cyrene's curiosity. Pointed ears, black sclera, and a slew of different pigmentations of skin. Other denizens of The Sapling curiously eyed the huntress as she proceeded through the large tree alongside Gideon. The huntress could not help but feel slightly uncomfortable as each set of eyes she passed stared at her. She tried her best to ignore the whispers that bounced from one individual to the next.
“Who is that?” A man questioned.
“She doesn't look like us…” A child says, peeking furtively from a corner. "She looks like Master Goode."
“Quite the short lass standing next to Gideon.” A woman murmurs.
"Erm..." Gideon clears his throat.
"O-oh. Right, right. You were looking for Master Goode. He should be at the top of the tree."
"The top of the tree?" Gideon reiterates. "Why would he be there?"
"I have no idea. He seemed to be in a sour mood. Can't imagine the reason. Then again, Goode always looks like he has a pinecone in his ass. Suppose it wouldn't be too much trouble to check on him?" Krady suggests.
"Y-yes," Gideon agrees. "We'll do that right away."
Gideon leads Cyrene to the steps of The Sapling, climbing higher up the spacious timber. The innards of The Sapling were a spiral staircase composed of thick, long branches and other tough materials capable of supporting tens of thousands of kilograms of weight. The further they ascended, the more she was exposed to. Tiny, compact homes composed of branches and leaves were made on several layers of the tree. There were mechanisms created to transport and store water from one elevation to the next. A few citizens were high above the land and used specially crafted furnaces to cook meals. The Sapling's vibrant brown base gradually became silver as the two ascended.
There was so much that the huntress was examining that Gideon would often notice the young lady gazing to and fro.
“How are you enjoying the detour, Cyrene?"
“It’s something, alright," she replied while sightseeing. "I used to climb trees a lot as a kid, but I never even dreamed of stepping inside one."
Gideon smiles.
“I, for one, could ogle this scenery for ages. So complex yet intricately constructed. A work of art and a true marvel.”
“It is nice," Cyrene agrees. "But I'd really just want to talk to your Master."
“I understand," he says, his head raised to the peak of the tree. "But we have quite a way to climb to go before you meet him."
"Urk..." she groans. "This tree is way too big. How is there even a village of people living in a place like this? Don't you guys get tired from walking up all these branches?"
"Not anymore. It's a part of our daily routine. Hunting, gathering, crafting, cooking, in some form or fashion, we need supplies to start an activity; thus, we all need to stand and get our feet moving."
Cyrene trails behind Gideon as he stops at one of the floors of the tree. He stops at the small entrance, which leads to an extended, bulky branch that protrudes outside of The Sapling.
"Over here." He motions with his hand.
Cyrene follows and stops behind the curtain.
"This isn't the top of the tree. Is your Master in here?"
“No, I just wanted to show you since you seem so enamored by my home. This is where most of our residents bathe.”
Cyrene's eyes fall to the black curtain made of dangling green leaves. A humid heat permeates from behind the wall, steam seeping from the cracks of the curtain.
“You shower up here?" She asked. "How does that even work?"
"We use buckets of purified water we've accumulated over rainy days and pour them over each other. The water that pours past our bodies is soaked into the bark as well, keeping the tree alive."
"Hm, that's neat."
"Indeed."
Gideon leans forward and peeks inside the makeshift curtain. Cyrene jumps at his shockingly abrupt action.
“H-hey! What are you doing?! Aren't there people in there?!”
Gideon pulls his head out and turns to the flushed young woman.
"Not to worry, it appears as though those inside are finishing up," he states calmly. "When their time is up, would you care to join me?”
Cyrene’s eyes enlarged. Her heart accelerates, and her cheeks flush a pinkish hue.
"A-are you serious? Why would I do that?” She glares.
“Is there a problem?” He sincerely questions. “People in my home regularly cleanse with one another. Do you not wash with others at home? Or do you not bathe?"
“I do bathe!" Cyrene barked, still blushing. "But from where I'm from, we don't all wash ourselves in the same room!"
“Hm, intriguing. Very well. Perhaps another time then.”
“N-no! Not at all," she stomps. "Can we just keep going up, already?"
"Of course," he nods. "Although there is one small detour we must make before we get to the top. I would also like your assistance on something?"
"What is it?"
Gideon leads Cyrene further skyward.
"Come with me to my room."
Moving past some ogling families, tucked in the corner of the next branch floor, was Gideon's residence. An exclusive, tiny abode the size of the average bathroom. It only had a single makeshift bed, composed of logs to support its foundation, as well as a cloth blanket laid over a bed of leaves to provide some semblance of cushioning.
"This room is so small," Cyrene says, still squeezing into the room. "You really live in here?"
"Indeed, I do," he says, sitting on the opposite end of the bed. "Please, have a seat."
Cyrene slowly sits down on the bed, the foundation creaking slightly underneath her weight. Her backside strains against the toughness of the log, causing her to wince.
"Ergh... my ass..." She groans.
Gideon leans forward and brings his hand underneath the bed. He swipes at the air, his eyes wandering, fingers searching for something. The clutter of tumbling rocks and rustling leaves is muffled underneath the bed.
"Where is it..." He mumbles. "The other favor I mentioned in the cavern, can you read?"
Cyrene's face warped into utter bewilderment.
"Y-yes? Can you?"
"No. Unfortunately, I was never taught," he sighs, still scrounging for something. "Perhaps then you can tell me what this says?"
Gideon pulls out a single dingy piece of paper. It was a bit crumpled, torn slightly, and scattered with dirt and water spots.
"I need your help reading this."
Cyrene takes the paper.
Cyrene holds it carefully by its ends. Not even from a far distance, the wear and tear the paper has seen made the words almost seem illegible.
"My reason for leaving the tree and exploring the world is partially due to this paper and my Master's," Gideon explains. "I found it left under my bed when I was young. There is something written here, but Master Goode has prevented me from telling you what exactly it is. And not just that, but he specifically told all of the villagers not to relay that information to me either."
Cyrene squints at the paper, then looks at Gideon.
"I don't blame you for not being able to read this. I can hardly make out the words."
"It is not as though I can't see the words; the issue is I lack reading comprehension," Gideon sighs, crestfallen. "I wasn't taught how, and the Master Goode also prevented others from teaching me how to read."
"He must have a reason to be hiding this from you. Won't you get in trouble if he knows what it says?"
"I may, but I don't care anymore. I've had this piece of paper for years. I need to know what's written on it."
Cyrene squints at the paper, leaning her neck forward and bringing the paper close to her face. Her eyes began making out the words behind the soggy piece of scrap, and she started to read the scarce words.
"A Steel Sky is far to the north, its walls both open and closed. Survive and arrive at this point, and help out yours truly!"
She lowers her eyes to the bottom right of the page. The signature is smudged and cannot be read.
"I... don't know who signed this," she says, handing the paper back to Gideon. "And I don't have a clue what a 'Steel Sky' is."
Gideon takes a moment to absorb the words spoken. His eyes wander, trying to put the pieces together.
"I'm afraid I also lack the necessary details to know what it means."
Gideon stands up from his bed, exiting his room.
"H-hey!"
Cyrene follows behind him. Gideon is looking at the top of the tree while glaring.
"But perhaps I know someone who does."
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