Chapter 53
Freedom
Even though he had been running uphill the whole way, Wataru didn’t feel tired in the least. His breathlessness was more from excitement than exhaustion. He ran up the column of light, heading ever upward. The shining steps seemed to flow past his swiftly moving feet. Then at last he reached the top of the staircase and stepped into a wide open space.
Is this the top of the sky?
It was no less bright here than it was in the column. A luminous white mist swirled around him. He stuck out his hand and the mist clung to his fingers, sliding over his skin with a soft sensation, like touching silk in a dream.
A dome of fog hung low above his head. Looking down, he couldn’t see his own toes. When he began to walk, it was like he was crossing a shallow river, sending ripples through its surface as he took each step. He saw nothing. He was alone. This place was vast, without limits, yet a warm sense of security wrapped around him, and he could feel his pulse steady.
Suddenly, he heard the chattering of birds from somewhere high above.
—Who has come?
Wataru’s eyes widened in surprise.
—A Brave has come?
Though he hadn’t heard it then, it was just like the twittering of the birds in the forest when Wataru visited the Village of the Watchers and met Wayfinder Lau for the first time.
—Who has come?
This time the sound came from behind him. Wataru looked around and called out into the mist. “My name is Wataru. I’ve traveled Vision and gathered four gemstones. Wayfinder Lau opened the path here for me.”
Somewhere in the mist, the unseen birds began to chirp to one another.
Wataru, Wataru.
You have come far, Wataru.
He bears the Brave’s Sword.
Welcome, Wataru.
You have done well, Wataru.
Then, the mist began to clear. Wataru’s view widened.
He gasped.
He was standing at the entrance to an entirely new world up here in the sky—a city of crystal. Everything was translucent, shining with a blue radiance.
So vast, so huge. The city was crowded with building after building after building. Their eaves jostled for space, their roofs slanted, and their windows were open. It was like a giant work of art carved directly from a vein of crystal—the largest ever seen anywhere.
In front of him, far in the distance, stood a beautiful tower, poised like a slender woman against the backdrop of the blue sky. It was lofty and magnificent, appearing to have grown out of the crystalline city. Its spire was shaped like two hands clasped in prayer, pointing toward an even higher place.
Now that’s the Tower of Destiny.
At its very top, where the fingers met, the Goddess awaited.
For a while, Wataru stared up at the tower, forgetting even to blink. It was so beautiful he felt that even to approach it would be sacrilege, yet its elegant form beckoned to him. Come, it said. Here is what you seek.
He slowly began to walk. Wataru’s image was reflected countless times in every direction in the walls of the crystal houses and in the crystal street below his feet. He walked, and his crystalline image walked together with him.
It was not long before he noticed that some of the buildings in the city were beginning to look familiar. He remembered having seen that particular shape of roof, or that particular corner. I know these places.
That’s it! This street here is Gasara. And there, those flat, connecting roofs are from Tearsheaven. Now that he noticed it, it was all he could see, and he began to run in his excitement. What’s that? Off to his right stood a cluster of huts just like the ones in the Village of the Watchers. That warehouse with the broken, hanging rain gutter—that’s from Sono. There was a corral from Maquiba. In the distance, he spotted a building just like the National Observatory in Lourdes, surrounded by the residences of starseers-in-training. Even the eerie form of the Triankha Hospital looked stunningly beautiful, its forbidding walls transformed into pure crystal. This magnificent city in the sky was a collection of all the towns and villages Wataru had traveled since he came to Vision, brought here, rebuilt. The only differences were that everything was made of crystal, and here, Wataru was alone.
Just walking through the city was like a reenactment of his journey. He saw himself reflected in the walls of the house from Tearsheaven. He remembered talking with the girl Sara. Next he climbed a steep street that reminded him of Sono. He could almost smell the sea in the air. And Bricklayer Street in Lyris! Here too, the doors to Fanlon’s workshop were tightly shut.
There was only one road he could actually take, and that led toward the tower. There was no risk of getting lost. Wataru walked quietly through the great crystal reproduction of his memories. The farther he walked, the deeper into the city he went, yet he never seemed any closer to the Tower of Destiny. Whenever he looked up at it, it stood alone, dominating the horizon, as far away as when he first laid eyes upon it.
He passed under a small bridge. This brought him to one of the corridor houses he had seen in Tearsheaven. He remembered his surprise when the kind mayor had led him through a house with no furniture—a house built purely for walking through.
He passed through one house, and into another, then another. Was this the way he had gone when he visited Sara’s mother, lying ill in that hospital room?
But the place where he emerged was no hospital. It was an empty, square room. Something was there, though: a small box attached to one of the walls near the far corner. It was a bird cage, made of solid crystal.
A white bird sat upon a perch in the cage. Wataru approached, touching the cage with his finger.
The bird was about the size of a canary, without so much as a spot on its pure white wings. Its round eyes were the startling blue of the ocean.
The bird twittered and hopped over near to where Wataru’s finger was touching the cage. It was staring at him. Then it tilted its head, flapped its wings, and tried to land on Wataru’s finger.
“You want out?”
The bird chirped. It’s answering me.
“Okay. Hang on.”
The door was held by a slender bar no larger than Wataru’s fingernail. He pushed it up with the tip of one finger, and the door swung open without a sound. The white bird took a hesitant hop out, resting briefly on top of the door. Then up it flew, going in a circle above Wataru’s head, before landing neatly on his right shoulder.
Surprised, Wataru took a step backward. The bird was practically weightless, yet it felt warm through the fabric of his shirt.
A scene unfolded in the back of Wataru’s mind. It was a vision of home. Wataru was standing in front of the haunted building. It was night. The Daimatsus were there—father and son, both. And there, sitting in a wheel chair next to them, was…
Kaori Daimatsu.
Those black eyes. Always focused on something only she could see. A beautiful girl, without words or any other link to the outside world, shining hair falling haphazardly across her smooth cheek.
Wataru blinked and the vision disappeared. The small bird was looking at him.
This white bird—could this be Kaori Daimatsu? Well, not her…but her soul?
“Have you been in here this whole time?” Wataru hesitantly raised a hand, stroking the bird’s little head with a finger. “Did someone trap you in this cage?” Wataru kept patting its head, and the bird closed its eyes. “That’s it, isn’t it. Kaori’s soul was taken from her body and shut away here.”
There was no wondering why. Wataru could feel the joy radiating from the tiny bird. That was enough.
“You’re coming with me. Let’s go home together.”
With the little white bird on his shoulder, Wataru began walking again. When he reached the next room, he found another cage. Inside, another bird was waiting.
This bird was as black as the one on his shoulder was white. Even its beak was black. Only its eyes burned a fiery red.
Wataru stood for a moment, thinking. I wonder whose soul this could be?