The Tree
The arrow rose into the darkness, and the hopelessness, and the void. It rose until it could rise no more, and then it fell. It fell, and fell, and fell until it reached impossible speeds. And then, when it could fall no more, it struck a resistance, and its head buried itself within the resistance.
Somewhere far, far away, the Star Stallion screamed, and reared and plunged, and stars fell in their millions from his mane and tail.
A great wind consumed the blackness, and it swept the stars high and higher.
There was an explosion of light and sound from the point where the arrow struck.
It washed out in great rippling waves, engulfing all those who waited within the darkness.
It caught the stars, and twisted them high, and higher, feeding their fire, so that they grew a million-fold in intensity, and then the wind swept them higher still.
Then the arrow sighed, and let itself be consumed, for its work was done.
Something grew.
Axis and Azhure both cried out and clung to each other as the waves of light and sound engulfed them.
Pain and joy in equal amounts devoured them.
Peace, said Leagh's Child.
The pain eased, and the intensity of the light dulled back to a soft and gentle radiance.
But the joy remained.
Azhure, among all others, was the first to open her eyes and look.
She shuddered, wracked by emotion as the import of what she saw sank in.
A Tree. Gigantic, all-encompassing. Its leaves every shade of green, its trumpet flowers a brilliant gold edged with scarlet.
It stood in the void, shedding a soft, gentle light.
Then, as Azhure put trembling hands to her face, and everyone else opened their eyes, the Tree's leaves trembled, and ...
... and a garden rippled out from its base, consuming the blackness and the void, and all trembled as earth and grasses and flowers formed under their feet as the Garden flowed outwards.
For those who had known the Field of Flowers, the Garden was like, and yet unlike. It was filled with flowers and their scents, but the Garden was more formed than the Infinite Field of Flowers had been. There were paths and glades, and shadowed, dappled spots of coolness where trees congregated.
It was like Sanctuary, save it did not share Sanctuary's sense of impermanence.
This Garden was the reality from which everything else had been insubstantial reflections.
Above, in a deep blue sky, millions of stars blazed.
Azhure cried out softly again, and pointed.
DragonStar and Faraday were walking through great, gorgeous drifts of flowers, the Star Stallion sauntering behind them, his head nodding and dipping with happiness.
Behind the stallion bounded the Alaunt, and behind them, carefully adjusting his vest lest it had become creased during Creation, walked Raspu.
Chapter 73
The Garden
"Aha!" cried the GateKeeper. "I know what this is!"
"What?" said Azhure politely, her eyes still on DragonStar and Faraday.
"It is that which existed beyond the Gate!" the GateKeeper said.
DragonStar, now within two paces of them, smiled and nodded. "In a manner of speaking, yes. But this Garden is far more than an 'AfterLife'. It is a 'BeforeLife' as well. It is a beginning and an end within itself. It is a well, a reservoir, of life."
Azhure disentangled herself from Axis' grasp, and slid down from Pretty Brown Sal.
There was something ... someone ... walking through the flowers towards her.
She gave a great sob — would she never stop crying? — and leaned forward to embrace Caelum and River Star, and Zenith just behind them.
And then there were the thousands, the millions, walking out through the flowers from the oblivion of death — Rivkah, Belial, MorningStar, a hundred neighbours and friends, ten thousand names and memories, faces and voices drifting out of the forgetfulness of death, but reaching out with living arms. But among them all, there was no StarDrifter.
"Why?" said Azhure, distraught. "Why?"
Rivkah, Magariz beside her, had her arms about Azhure, comforting her as she had done so often when Azhure had been so lost and lonely and friendless within Smyrton.
DragonStar shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "I do not know."
