Cities that begin to listen
In the weeks following Halveth's incomplete flowering, echoes of what had happened spread like silent vibrations across the continent. But this time, no one spoke out loud. No reports were shared, no alerts, no proclamations. There were only unexplained presences.
In Albreth, a coastal town known for its naval isolation, the tides began to move in inexplicable patterns: interlocking double circles that did not follow the lunar rhythm.
In Syria, a city of archivists, each sealed tome of unprocessed emotions began to spontaneously open, revealing texts written in extinct languages… by authors who never existed.
In the Braden-Kharn tunnels, a group of miners discovered a floating root. It didn't sprout from the ground. It was suspended in the air, as if it didn't need any soil to flourish.
And in all of them, the same sign: a transparent line that crossed the streets , without touching the buildings. No one knew what it was.
But everyone was beginning to feel… that a new mapping of the soul had arrived.
The Appearance of the Compassless Cartographer
In the center of the shapeless map, a man walked, wrapped in a folded paper coat. On his back, hundreds of diagrams made of invisible ink. His steps left no trace. But the roots appeared behind him.
They called him Mieral . No one knew where he came from. He didn't claim to belong to any city. And he had no visible roots.
Just one word written on his wrist: "Locate."
Mieral didn't speak. He placed white sheets on the ground in cities. And when someone touched them, they remembered a place they 'd never visited.
A woman in Syrim, upon touching a leaf, wept at the sight of her childhood in a forest that did not exist.
A boy in Albreth remembered a storm that didn't happen, but he knew it created him.
Mieral didn't explain. He just walked. And the invisible map grew.
III. Akihiko understands the new phase
As Velyra adapted to the intertwined blossoming of white, gray, black, and transparent roots, Akihiko remained silent. From the observation tower, he saw how the collective vibration no longer sought direction. It sought integration.
Kazun, meditating near a resonant mirror, was the first to notice:
—"There is no longer just one kind of flourishing. There are intertwining paths. And each one demands to be seen without hierarchy."
Lior added:
—"The map doesn't show places. It shows states. It doesn't show questions: it reflects wills not yet expressed."
Akihiko closed his eyes. He felt the roots beneath his feet. Some white, some gray. One black in the distance. A transparent one pulsing like an echo.
And he knew that the world was no longer heading toward a center.
The world was recognizing itself as a network.
Simultaneous flowering
One morning, without warning, more than 40 cities began to show spontaneous signs of multiple blooms.
In Farel-Tir, five roots of different colors sprouted at the same time from a sealed library. In Neorinth, an incomplete root began to change color depending on the emotional state of the inhabitants. In Morja, a flower appeared, stemless and rootless, floating between houses. It could only be seen when someone spoke their inner truth.
And then, the unthinkable happened: roots began to connect across cities.
Not physically. Not through paths. But through spiritual affinity.
A deep emotion in Albreth could trigger a resonance in Halveth.
A repressed memory in Keveran could trigger a flowering in Syriem.
The map was alive.
And it had no center.
The witness's dilemma
In the midst of this harmonious chaos, Aeri requested a meeting with Akihiko.
—"The transparent root wasn't created to lead. Only to reflect. But now… many seek to see it as a guide."
Akihiko understood. Humanity needed a beacon. But Aeri couldn't be it. Nor should she.
—"So… who will it be?" Kazun asked.
Aeri replied:
—"No one. And everyone. Because the next judgment won't come from a tower. It will come from the way each human being chooses to show themselves."
And he placed a white sheet on the ground.
Akihiko touched her.
And he remembered a life he never lived… but that he could still feel as his own.
The network that flourishes without control
The sages of ancient times said that when the roots connected without center or command, the world would lose structure.
But the opposite happened.
The wars didn't end. But they began to be postponed, out of reflection.
The systems didn't collapse. But they were permeated by questions without direct answers.
The remaining judges began to write down their errors.
The victims stopped waiting for justice. They began to offer a way.
The map had no paths. But he knew how to feel.
And Mieral, in silence, continued walking.
Sometimes he appeared in a forgotten temple. Sometimes in a child's room.
Always with a leaf.
Always with a space… not yet named.
END OF CHAPTER 127