Chapter 54

The fish-beam tree alone occupied the entire slope, with almost all sides raised hills; people down below could never know that among the encircling hills there stood such a huge fish-beam tree; the one in Winterfell paled in comparison.

How many people and things has it witnessed?

It must have seen giants walk past it, seen the children of the forest climb its branches, right?

Kelede panted, looking at this tall, huge, fresh and bright tree, and said to Qiongen:

"Last time, I saw him here; he said he was old and liked to bask in the sun on the tree, but the crows kept disturbing him, so he had to sing to soothe him."

"Who wouldn't like that? When I was a kid, I occasionally dared to climb the heart tree in Winterfell to sleep, feeling I would be different, but sleeping in the tree was never peaceful, not because of the crows."

"In the tree, I always worried, but I didn't even know what I was worrying about."

"Once I and Luobo climbed the tree together, secretly snapped off a branch, but on the way out we were caught by the guard Tomade—we always called him Pangtangmu—ah, he should already have died in the capital; when he discovered us, Luobo and I begged him not to report it, but he stubbornly refused, saying 'This won't do.'"

"I thought it was just a branch, no punishment would follow, but the next month I had to work as an assistant at Miken's weapons shop, while Luobo was punished to follow Falan, cleaning the animal pens and clearing dog dung."

"Seeing his punishment, I secretly laughed for a month."

Both laughed.

"Who wouldn't? I think the heart tree's eternal enemy is always children; if adults don't protect it, it will soon be balded by kids. I bet your father Ade also got punished like that, watching you forge iron and train dogs, he must surely miss it deeply."

Before the heart tree, his words became more.

"I never asked him." He laughed, under this bright red light he felt refreshed, "Don't they remember everything? Perhaps we can ask it."

"If we could ask, you would surely not ask this question first."

"Yeah, definitely not. And you, what would you ask?" Qiongen asked.

"I would want to ask how my brother Desimeng died." He brushed his hair, gave a bitter smile, "Ah, forget it, I still don't want to know. And you, Qiongen?"

Qiongen found his own smile equally bitter, "My mother—I still don't know who my mother is."

"Did Ade not tell you?"

"No. He said he would tell me when we meet again, but we will never meet again."

"Although we came for the eagle, perhaps Fuyin would also be willing to help. Bring the wine, will you?"

Qiongen patted the pouch beside his sword sheath.

The last child of the forest in the world, also a lover of wine. Perhaps one day, when he grows old and records his experiences, he will surely add a line in his book: the child of the forest loves wine.

Hehe, perhaps the only child of the forest in the world who loves wine is the last one.

He followed Kelede around the boulder beside the heart tree, along the steep cliff downward; not long after, Kelede whispered to him, "That's the cave below."

The cave entrance was not obvious, blocked by a door woven of grass and wood, but people could easily tell it was a door.

Qiongen needed to hold onto the shrubs growing on the slope's slant to avoid sliding down.

No one would think that on such a steep mountainside there is a cave, inside which lives a child of the forest who has vanished for a thousand years.

"Do we need to knock?" Qiongen asked.

The door was entirely woven of grass, with several wooden sticks inserted; after a long time, it was already tattered, possibly a gust of wind could blow away the so‑called door.

Such a door looks impossible to knock on.

Qiongen felt embarrassed.

The small cave mouth was almost recessed into the cliff face; in every sense, the owner had no intention of welcoming visitors.

"Did he dig this cave himself?" he asked weakly, feeling foolish as soon as he spoke.

"I don't know. Do you see the fissure in the rock?"

He pointed to where the cliff formed two clear boundaries; a huge rock mass split by this fissure formed two distinct independent peaks.

"Perhaps ancient settlers or children of the forest lived here; the cave might have been dug by them, or hollowed out by some other means."

Qiongen knew one person could hardly dig a cave in this rock, but he suddenly thought that with magical help, it might not be impossible.

"Shall we go in? Or should we wait here under the heart tree; if he comes out, we will surely see him." Qiongen said.

"Normally I would have you wait up there, maybe wait ten or eight days, but now we have no time!"

Qiongen understood.

"Fuyin." Kelede whispered toward the cave mouth; the sound echoed through the grass door, as if no one lived there.

Qiongen gently pushed the grass door, and the grass door actually collapsed at his touch; thinking that such a door had not been blown away by the wind, Qiongen felt strange.

"Shall we go in?" Qiongen asked.

"You go in alone; I'll keep watch outside." He said, "He won't harm you, and you won't harm him, right?"

"No." Qiongen laughed.

Qiongen felt nothing could be stranger than this.

He bent his body and entered the cave; from within he smelled a thick, cold dust odor—this would not be a place where humans or any creature lived—so he immediately turned back.

"There's no one inside." He said.

"Did you look?"

"I could feel it."

Kelede stepped over Qiongen and went in himself; faint, fragmented sounds came from inside, stopped, then gradually rose again.

Qiongen crouched, watching Kelede. Kelede lowered his head, walked out of the cave holding something in his hands, like a piece of shadow.

"He is already dead." Kelede gazed at the small figure in his arms, sorrowfully saying.

He held the already wind‑dried corpse.

He is so small, Qiongen thought, thin skin wrapped around fine bones, his face etched with deep grooves, the thin skin on his mouth turned upward, like a smile before death.

The child of the forest was wrapped in layers upon layers of various leaves, woven into fine decoration; on his head he wore a crown made of fine feathers, colorful, looking delicate and splendid; around his neck he wore a string of beads made of fish‑beam wood, round and lovely.

Kelede carefully knelt, took off his windbreaker, gently placed it inside the clothing, and wrapped it securely.

The two said nothing, assisting in bringing it to beneath the heart tree.

Both knew its true resting place could only be here.

"Sorry, Qiongen." Keldei said, "Looking for him might be a bad idea."

Qiongen wanted to say, this journey was beautiful, the heart tree was beautiful, it was worth it, but he couldn't get the words out.

The Wall was still waiting for him, Mansilede was still threatening the kingdom he had sworn to protect.

They silently dug a pit in front of the heart tree.

Is this a prank arranged by the gods? he thought.

He thought he could communicate with the child of the forest, find a way to deal with the hawk……

After sending the child of the forest into the pit, Qiongen felt he ought to say a few words, but looking at the small thing wrapped in gray fur before him, he couldn't say anything, only able to stare awkwardly at Keldei.

"Qiongen, sing him a song. Just the one you sang before." He was a little uneasy and awkward, "Just sing the Last Giant. Though he isn't a giant, to me he is no different from one."

Qiongen couldn't refuse such a request, so he began singing the song again. He didn't know whether to choose Yegeruite's tune or Atuos's.

He sang it twice for him, the first time Yegeruite's tune, the second time Atuos's. But he didn't truly sing it out loud, using a voice only the two could hear, almost humming "Please remember my song."

When he finished the last word, a black raven jumped down from the heart tree and shouted at Qiongen, "Song song song…"

The two buried the child of the forest amid the raven's noisy clamor.

If the gods had arranged for him to see the last child of the forest one final time, then the gods' arrangement has been fulfilled.

"May you forever sing in the gods' realm." Qiongen finally said, then stood up, preparing to take one last look at the heart tree before leaving.

The raven jumped down from the branch and shouted loudly at him, "Song song song…"

"I have no song!" Qiongen said helplessly.

"Song?" the raven turned its head and cried.

Qiongen looked at the raven, then at Keldei, who also looked puzzled.

The raven immediately hopped about on the ground, then picked up with its beak a bone-white, slightly curved bone strip the length of a palm on a bluestone they had walked over, which looked like a piece of fish beam wood.

The other half was still on the ground, obviously snapped by one of them.

"Croak…" it flew up and called at Qiongen.

"Go, fetch the flute." Keldei gestured to Qiongen.

Qiongen hesitated, walked toward the raven, reached out and took the flute from its beak.

The raven did not dodge.

The flute was engraved with various complex patterns and symbols, extending from the surface into the bore. Another small half had been crushed underfoot, and neither of them picked it up.

At that moment the raven flew to the branch, croaking, "Song song song…"

Qiongen glanced at the flute, handed it to Keldei, but Keldei had no intention of taking it.

"This is a rune flute. It obviously wants to give the flute to you."

"I can't use it." Qiongen said. Moreover, it's already broken.

"You think I would?" Keldei said, "I've only heard him play it once, anyway it sounds better than Atuos's singing."

"How did he…… sing, does this thing need to be blown?" Qiongen asked.

"If it's a flute, then it's mostly blown…… but it's too small. Your brother might be able to use it……" Keldei said.

"If possible, next time I return to Winterfell I'll give the flute to him." Qiongen smiled, he tried blowing a little into what seemed like the air inlet.

"Whoo…" the flute made a sound.

"Song…" the raven made a sound.

"I can't." He put the flute down.

The raven jumped down from the tree and pecked hard at Qiongen's hand; Qiongen felt pain, and the flute fell to the ground.

"What's going on?" Qiongen placed his hand on his dagger.

"Song…" the raven called.

"I can't understand what you're saying." Qiongen released the dagger, gasped in pain, his finger had been pierced, blood flowed out, fell to the ground, and one drop happened to land on the flute, flowing along the hole into the bore.

The blood quickly spread across the flute, each pattern faintly flashing along the direction of the flow, instantly covering the whole flute, the engraved lines turning blood-red, much like the red sap flowing down the heart tree.

"What is this?" Qiongen asked Keldei.

"Magic?"

"I don't want this kind of magic. Should we bury the flute with him?" Qiongen suggested.

"This should be his gift to you?"

"I don't understand why he would give it to me. Thanks for burying him? He ought to thank you more."

"Perhaps he's thanking you for singing to him. He really likes singing."

"Song song song…" the raven called.

Qiongen blew again into the air hole, "Whoo…" the blood-red patterns on the flute flickered.

The ravens on the fish beam wood all took flight, and Keldei also bared his teeth in a grin.

"Is this a magic flute? It sounds even worse." Keldei said.

Qiongen didn't find it unpleasant.

He carefully blew into the small mouthpiece.

No sound at all.

He blew again. He felt he could see the leaves of the fish beam wood swaying in the sunlight, moving with his thoughts, making a rustling sound.

The ravens huddled on the bare rocks, quietly and attentively listening to the nonexistent flute sound.

Qiongen felt himself slowly rising and falling, as the fish beam wood floated to the treetop, bathed in sunlight, continuing upward, he felt he touched the white clouds, saw the sunlight and beyond the white clouds, the sky shimmering with infinite stars.

His gaze drifted far away, he saw his sister begging on the street with a stick, her face covered in blotchy sores—no, that wasn't her face, her true face lay hidden beneath.

Turning further toward the east, a dragon flew over the pyramids, soaring upward toward the depths of the white clouds, vanishing from sight.

Further still, countless warships sailed out of the harbor, drumbeats like hemp.

Further away, mountains and rivers collapsed, volcanoes erupted, lava shot straight to the horizon.

He withdrew his gaze, passing countless crowds, passing countless ships, he saw Shansha wearing linen clothes, barefoot, crying on the red boat, all around was the endless sea.

Closer was a tower piercing the clouds, the bell on the tower repeatedly struck, the bell sound resounding, spreading far away.

Closer, he saw her sister. She was driving a dagger into a woman's chest, that person……

He returned to Winterfell, passing layer upon layer of walls, he saw Bulan weeping secretly, he had never seen him so sorrowful; Summer beside him constantly rubbed its face against his hand; he turned his gaze, again crossing layer upon layer of walls, he saw his little brother Ruchen, who was shouting wildly, his Shaggydog just as frenzied……

Closer, he saw Atuos circling around Laila, and saw Belong hiding far off to the side.

Even closer, he saw a red giant tree blossoming among the boulders.

Above was an eagle.