Inside the tree it was warm and the flesh of the bark was soft as it enclosed him.

“Tell me of your sorrow or regret,” the tree spoke to him.

What should he say? Could anything suffice? What about that time when he was young and asked to court a girl and was turned down? Somehow he felt that wouldn’t count. He was asking this ancient being to bless the lands in and around Yume, his offering should be commensurate with that request.

“I…”

He began to speak, knowing what he needed to give to the tree but suddenly the thought of what all he would lose weighed down upon him.

“It was never easy for Akumu, either,” the tree spoke, and it was oddly comforting to know that even Akumu found this difficult.

“I left my family to come here as part of the Soul Tithe,” Kasyn said. “I’ve told people here that my entire family worshiped Akumu, but I lied. My wife and children never believed as I do. When I told them what I intended to do, I broke their hearts. I left them in tears. They….they left me even before I left to come here. I wish I hadn’t left them the way that I did. I wish it could have been a more bitter sweet parting. And now I can’t offer myself to Akumu which means my family is still out there, but I doubt they’d take me back even if I tried to return to them.”

Now that he was talking he felt it all rushing out of him, being drawn into the tree and leaving holes in his memory where he only vaguely remembered what used to be there.

“I thought I might start a new life here in Yume. Emilie and I were becoming quite close and I thought…I thought she would be a fine companion. But now she’s gone too, and I’m ashamed because I know I still have a family that I ought to go back to regardless and make amends if possible. I should take care of my children and watch them grow. I shouldn’t be here chasing after some other woman. I…I love my wife. I miss her. I miss my children. I’m just too ashamed to go back. Too afraid to ask for their forgiveness.”

He took in a deep shuddering breath.

“And I fear I may have been wrong in worshiping Akumu.”

The smell of decaying wood faded a moment and he vines, or perhaps roots, growing up around him, wrapping tightly like the threads of a blanket swaddling him and holding him aloft. They moved up his torso and to his neck

“Sweet child,” the tree whispered into his ear, “I accept your offering.

The vines reached his head and they moved through his mind, taking his offering in full. He tried to remember what he’d given, but all that he could find was emptiness. What had he been saying to the tree and why was he crying?

Light pierced the darkness and the tree opened back up, letting him stumble out onto the grass. His knees felt weak and still he couldn’t stop crying. The sorrow poured out of him, spilling with his tears onto the ground. Where each tear fell, a small flower sprang up, bloomed, and then faded.

“Are you alright?” Damarys asked him, taking his hand and leading him into one of the chairs. “You’ve been in there for hours.”

“I…I don’t…” What could he say? He had no idea why he was crying other than the fact that he’d given something to the tree.

Something metallic cracked and a length of chain fell from the tree.

“There are breaches in Akumu’s city,” the tree said. “In times past I would repair them but I am growing weary and my connection with this place wanes. Take this chain and with it you may repair the lost or broken bindings.”

Kasyn gently pushed Damarys away from him and got up, strode over to where the chain had fallen, and picked it up. The black metal was cold and smooth in his hands. Zeter and Damarys joined him a moment later and Zeter ran his hand over the chain.

“There’s runes inscribed here,” he said with wonder and looked even closer. “The same as the runes in the city.”

“Makes sense,” Kasyn said, “since it has the power to fix them.”

“Indeed,” the tree spoke. “Each link of the chain will renew a single binding.”

“This is why the fiends didn’t want us coming in here,” Zeter exclaimed. “With this we can bind them again. We can get the whole city back up and running.”

“I’ve been chosen by Akumu to do this,” Kasyn realized.

Just as he’d taken Akumu’s place here in offering his sorrow to this ancient deity, he would similarly go throughout the city and reclaim it, piece by piece, in Akumu’s name. As he hefted the chain he could almost feel it pulling him towards the nearest rune in need of repair. It was a glorious gift indeed.

He felt a thrill of excitement of putting those fiends back into their place. They’d cost the city too much already, kidnapping Jelvaic and distracting them from their true purpose of restoring Yume to its proper form so Akumu could return and reclaim it. So much had already been sacrificed for the city.

Hadn’t it?

Now that he thought about it he couldn’t recall what had been sacrificed besides the one Shinrai monk, and yet more tears rolled down his face. The shadow of remembering lingered on the edge of his consciousness but remained out of reach. What had he told the tree? What other sacrifices had been made that would make him weep?

“Do you need a minute?” Damarys asked.

“Um, no, sorry, I just can’t remember why I’m crying.”

“I guess we shouldn’t be too surprised,” Zeter said. “The tree did say it would take away your sorrow.”

“But I’m still sad,” Kasyn protested. “I just don’t know why.”

“It will pass,” the tree assured them.

Slowly, Damarys and Zeter helped Kasyn back out of the glass enclosure and into the Toshokan proper once again.

“Welcome back,” the guardian bowed awkwardly, being a massive hand after all. “I see the sacrifice has been made.”

It gestured around them and Kasyn noticed the creeping vines that wove around much of the Toshokan, covering bookshelves, walls, and even the ceiling.

“Now to see what that chain can do,” Zeter said.

A part of Kasyn wanted to stay and see if he could find books here about Akumu’s divinity, but the city was in need and Jelvaic was still captive, as far as he knew. So, with a silent promise to himself that he would return, he followed the other two out of the Toshokan.

It was dusk outside, which surprised him since it had been hardly midday when they’d entered. Then he remembered Damarys had said he’d been in the tree for hours. Honestly, he couldn’t remember anything from the moment he stepped into the tree until the moment it opened back up and let him out. It was a strange sensation to have hours of his life simply gone from his memory.

“Ketty, we’re out of Shinko Toshokan, what’s happened?” Zeter said as they began climbing onto the carpet. He looked up with concern in his eyes after a moment. “Arjana and the others haven’t returned and the Sages haven’t been able to locate them or Jelvaic.”

Kasyn tightened his grip on the chain and turned to face the distant gate in to Ichiba Wa.

“At least we know what we need to do,” he said.