Epic Short Story | Oath of the Abyss · Embers

A thousand years later, a tree grew above the abyss. No one knew how it got there. Its roots were buried in the void, but its branches stretched towards the human world, and its leaves were like solidified flames. Beneath the tree sat a blind girl. She called herself "Embers," the last word the Shadow of Ash left for the world. "Who are you talking to now?" a traveler passed by and saw her talking to the air. "The Abyss," Embers smiled, gently tapping the tree's roots with her finger. "It said it was bored today and wanted to hear a story." The traveler frowned. "The Abyss can talk?" "Of course," Embers tilted her head, as if listening to something. "It said it used to be a wolf. The kind that was very hungry, very angry, and very lonely. Then it jumped down and became what it is now." The traveler crouched down and touched the tree trunk. The bark was warm, like a heartbeat. "Does it regret it?" Embers was silent for a long time. The Abyss was also silent. Finally, she looked up, starlight reflected in her blind eyes. "It says regret is something only the living can possess. It no longer has that right—but it doesn't feel it's a shame." "Why?" "Because," Embers placed her hand on the tree, her voice very soft, "every time someone cries beneath this tree, it hears them. It says that's enough." The traveler said nothing more. He leaned against the tree trunk and closed his eyes. The wind rustled through the leaves, making a low humming sound, like a wolf's howl, or a lullaby. The Abyss did not answer. But all the leaves on the tree lit up at once.