Chapter 1739: Story 1739: The Echoing Orchard
The path ahead ford slowly—threads twisting, braiding, and unfurling until they shaped a winding trail of silver leaves and pale gold roots. The Weave humd beneath their steps as if sensing their renewed purpose.
Tovin inhaled. “It slls like… earth.”
Marra raised an eyebrow. “Dreams have scents?”
Erian nodded quietly. “So do. Especially the ones born from longing.”
As they walked, the threads around them shifted into the resemblance of trees—tall, branching structures woven from light.
Their leaves glowed faintly, turning the space into an orchard suspended in the void. Yet sothing felt wrong. So trees shimred brightly with mories of joy, while others sagged, their leaves crumbling into gray dust.
Erian tightened his grip on the Dreamfire’s mory. “The Weave wouldn’t bring us here without reason. Sothing broke in this place.”
The air thickened. A faint, rhythmic sound echoed across the orchard—like fruit dropping endlessly onto soft soil.
Except it wasn’t fruit.
Under the nearest tree, sothing fell with a soft thud.
Marra approached carefully—then froze.
It was a mory.
A small glowing sphere, trembling with emotion. Inside it flickered the image of two old friends arguing beneath the sa tree.
“What… is this?” she whispered.
Tovin crouched beside it. “Lost mories… cast out from the dream. This orchard must hold a bond soone tried to forget.”
Erian’s eyes narrowed. “A mory so important that its breaking ford another fracture.”
Before they could examine further, a sharp cry echoed through the orchard.
A young man stood between the trees—translucent, flickering, almost ghostlike. His hair was a tangled ss, his face streaked with tears. He didn’t seem aware of the trio, pacing desperately as if searching for sothing he’d lost.
“Lira! Where are you?”
Marra’s heart skipped. “Lira? Like Lyra?”
Tovin shook his head. “Different na. But… this might be connected.”
The man fell to his knees, clutching at the roots of a dimming tree.
“I didn’t forget you,” he choked. “I just—couldn’t face it.”
The orchard shuddered.
The glowing mories trembling on the branches turned dark, their light draining into the soil. The roots writhed. A groan echoed from the earth—deep, ancient, wounded.
Erian stepped forward. “This is the fracture’s core. He tried to bury sothing he couldn’t bear to rember.”
The man looked up then—finally seeing them. His voice trembled.
“Help … please. I can’t find her.”
Marra approached slowly. “Who?”
He pointed to the dim trees. “My sister. The one I swore I’d always protect. The orchard was our dream… a place we built together.”
Erian’s breath caught. Another lost sibling.
“But a fire took her,” the man whispered. “And I—ran. I survived, and she didn’t. I tried to forget the orchard, forget her, forget everything. And when I did… the orchard began to die.”
The ground split.
From the cracks rose twisted shapes—mories corrupted by guilt. Shadow-figures ford from broken promises and swallowed regret.
Tovin stepped back. “Here we go again.”
But Erian raised a hand. “No fighting. Not unless we have to. He needs to rember—not relive.”
He turned to the man.
“Show us the real mory,” Erian said. “The one you’re running from.”
The man hesitated—then touched the nearest dying tree.
Light burst outward.
A vision unfolded: a young boy and girl planting a single glowing seed, laughing as the orchard sprang to life around them. Later, smoke filling the sky. The boy dragging his sister through the flas—until the branch fell. Until he had to choose.
Until he ran.
As the truth replayed, the man sank to the ground.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”
Marra knelt beside him. “She knew you loved her. You held on as long as you could.”
Tovin added softly, “You’re rembering now. That’s what matters.”
The man covered his face—and the orchard breathed again.
Branches straightened. Leaves unfurled. The mories regained their glow.
And from behind a tree stepped a small glowing figure—a girl of light, smiling gently.
Her brother looked up, stunned. “A-Alia?”
She nodded.
“You ca back.”
The orchard nded in a wave of golden radiance.
The fracture sealed.
Erian exhaled. “Two down.”
Tovin looked deeper into the endless threads ahead.
Marra finished the thought:
“And countless more to go.”
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