Chapter 1407 (Patreon)

When I landed before the mighty yew-tree, I couldn’t help but hesitate for a second. I recognised the place; how could I not? Due to that, I could see just how much things had changed around here. Back when Luna and I were here for the first time, the tree had been relatively ordinary. Large and impressive, sure, but only on the scale of an ordinary tree.

Now, the tree was everything but, far beyond what it had been back then, even after the tree received Lady Hecate’s blessing. That blessing, the consecration of sanctuary granted by the tree’s crown, remained in effect. Even I, with my relatively strong power, could instinctively sense that any violent actions would be met with severe divine punishment, the sensation strong enough to render the mere thought nearly unthinkable. A part of me wanted to experiment, to test how far the boundaries defined by Lady Hecate would stretch, but I quickly discarded the thought. It was one thing to be impolite, like I had been when invoking the Pale Lady within Lady Hecate’s shrine, and it was an entirely different thing to deliberately poke and prod her consecrations. 

But Lady Hecate was the deity of witchcraft and arcane magic, so testing her consecration wouldn’t be done in disrespect, at least not by me. I didn’t want to test the boundaries to see if I could abuse Lady Hecate’s sanctuary, maybe by using it as a fallback position while hunting in the forest or something like that; I merely wanted to learn. To further my understanding of arcane and divine magic, though that might be difficult. My mindset of testing things might not be recognised as violence, but as, well, testing and experimenting. Something the sanctuary seemed to allow easily. Maybe I could pray to Lady Hecate later and ask for permission. She might even grant it. 

Shaking my head, I decided to explore the physical structure first, then consider my next steps. I still had a few days left before I was expected to meet Tim back at the Charland, and I was hoping to add the anchor to this shrine here, maybe visit the Slaughterhouse Dungeon, before moving back to the Charland. 

The way forward was cast in deep shade. Thanks to the tree’s large crown, the area closer to the tree’s trunk was cast in perpetual shadow. Ferns, some shrubs, moss and grass filled that space, creating a slightly weird, almost otherworldly atmosphere. The gloom was perceivable even in the dim, pre-dawn light, and it only added to that, especially combined with the dew gathered on the various leaves and vines. Some creepers were even interwoven with the tree’s roots, some hanging down before the entrance into the shrine, creating a green curtain and concealing what lay below. 

Knowing that I was safe within Lady Hecate’s shrine, I gently moved the vines aside and continued forward, immediately noticing the three statues grown directly from the tree’s roots. They, like everything else, had changed a little, though not fundamentally. The Maiden’s statue was still of Luna, though the figure was a little more refined. In any case, it depicted the current Luna very accurately, despite the changes my daughter had undergone since the statue first came into being. 

Similarly, I could spot a few changes between the way I had looked when the statue was first grown and my current form, though I also noticed that there remained some differences, too. I wasn’t sure where those came from, but I would investigate at some point. 

Lastly, the Crone, the Grandmother, was completely unchanged. She looked just as she had back when I met her on Mundus for the first time, and I had a feeling she would look exactly like that for a long time to come. Eternal, timeless, unchanging- all attributes I would attribute to her, and why she was such a good fit for the Crone’s role.

While it was fairly obvious that the tree, through its connection to Lady Hecate, had altered the statues to fit our current forms, I couldn’t help but grin as I imagined a possible mechanism. I could almost see it. Lady Hecate showing up to talk to the tree, maybe setting up a nice table for a hot cup of tea somewhere under the tree's canopy as she explained to the patiently listening tree how the three of us had changed, and thus the statues needed to change to accommodate that. It was a rather amusing image, especially when I started to imagine the tree as a tortured artist, trying to match Lady Hecate’s vision. It was entirely fictional, just an amusing figment of my mind, but that didn’t change the mirth I was feeling. 

Shaking my head to get rid of the mirth, I walked past the statues without further acknowledgement. While tradition and common practise would suggest a bow or some other form of respect, I wasn’t about to bow to a statue of me. That would just be silly, so I simply continued on, taking in the changes to the shrine. 

There were quite a few. The place had expanded, maybe by an entire order of magnitude. Gone were the simple chambers dug into the bare earth, the dirt floors replaced with warm, living wood. Similarly, the previously bare walls were now covered in clean roots and vines, like a tapestry, and each room had a single, massive root dominating its ceiling, as if holding up the surrounding earth. It looked quite impressive, especially given that the roots had small, bulb-like protrusions that shed a cool, silvery light, quite reminiscent of the light present within Lady Hecate’s domain.

Some of the rooms I casually inspected were built to house people, though currently empty; others had curtains of vines hanging before them, providing privacy. I considered pushing one of those curtains aside, but I quickly reconsidered when I felt a sense of warning fill the air. There might be people present, or these rooms were permanently assigned to people; I wasn’t sure. Regardless, I got the distinct impression that the shrine itself would try to keep me out, and I wasn’t willing to start a conflict with the tree I was walking under. And wasn’t that another of those exceedingly weird thoughts?

Though, did I really want to push through a curtain of vines, only to realise that I had accidentally walked in on someone who was relieving themselves? I remembered trying to set up a proper bathroom beneath the tree, and how difficult it had been. Lady Hecate would undoubtedly be able to do much better, but I still wouldn’t want to walk in on somebody occupied like that. I could barely think of a worse initial encounter. 

Eventually, I reached a place I instantly recognised. Not so much for the furniture; it was similar to that in a few other rooms, but because the room’s purpose was so very familiar. It was the library, the local repository of knowledge, and I instantly felt welcome. This was the true core of Lady Hecate’s shrine, the most important part. Not the statues depicting Mother, Maiden and Crone in whatever shape Lady Hecate might prefer, not some altar where people could preach. No, the most important aspect of any location blessed by Lady Hecate would always be the library, no matter what form it might take. Maybe I should ask if I may visit the library within her domain; it had to be glorious. 

Much better than this, though that was to be expected. Some of the knowledge stored here was written on sheets of stone, a few I had personally created back when I was here the first time. However, the majority of the space wasn’t taken up by large, cumbersome stone tablets, but by simple notebooks. The spiral kind one might have used during high school, filled with lined paper. Part of me was deeply amused by the contrast between the unwieldy stone tablets I used to preserve knowledge for eternity and the simple notebooks that should already be rotting away in the moist air beneath the tree. However, to my consternation and faint annoyance, the notebooks were as pristine as they had been when first purchased, or looted after the Change, apparently preserved by the shrine and Lady Hecate’s magic. 

Pushing the annoyance away, I started to read, curious what sort of people had visited this place in my absence and, maybe more importantly, what they had found out about the surrounding forest. Or what they had shared about the people living on the nearby plains, where once fields had been. Did Apple Gate Farm still stand? Did the people there continue to thrive? I wasn’t sure, but maybe these pages would have the answers I wanted. 

So I took one of the books and settled down on a comfortable root, grown right through the floor and shaped like a bench. This was rather nice, allowing me to read and relax in a pleasant, safe atmosphere.