Only one way

These creatures are even more fascinating than I expected… I think I'm getting close now, I can smell the sweet fragrance of wisdom emanating not far from here…

I found sketches engraved in stone. They must be older than at least a whole generation of moki. Not only did they live in the forest, they had their very own isolated realm that was impervious to any danger. But that only leaves more questions than it answers. What caused the sudden collapse? Why would they abandon such a sacred place? I seem to be the only one who cares, so I had to fulfill my scholar's duty by going deeper into this monster-infested cave. Fortunately, I know how to make a fire, so these disgusting critters won't dare come closer…

Those pictures weren't going to log themselves. I made it my task to copy them for future reference, they were the first pieces of sizable evidence I've had so far.

The page ended somewhat prematurely, filled with notes and scribbles below the main written sections. Most of them were crossed out, and an arrow pointed towards the side of the page labeled, "Good version!" Ori turned the page and was amazed by the quality of the artwork before him. Then he realized what it was, and he forgot any admiration of the artwork to marvel at what it depicted. A spirit guardian, designed to look much like himself, stared back towards him with judging eyes. In the picture, the spirit was holding a round fruit up in their right paw, as if presenting it to him. Ori felt his stomach growl at the tasty appearance as he realized he'd spent far more time down here than he'd thought. Down here, time had no meaning. The only sort of log he had for it was his ever-increasing hunger gnawing at him.

"The author was researching my kind. I guess he must've been here recently." The spirit's voice echoed quietly along the stony walls of the cave. It was hard to believe that the person who authored the journal knew more about his species than he did himself. "I wonder how he would have reacted upon seeing me, had we met?" asked Ori, more to hear a voice he understood than anything. Excited to see as to what else the document had to offer, he turned the page and continued reading. The book had sparked a growing thirst for knowledge from deep within him.

I can hardly contain my enthusiasm as the cave promises deeper insights into the spirits. Everyone knows their purpose, they protect the forest as extensions of the Spirit Tree's influence. But where did they originate? Ever since I was a child, I've been a firm believer that nothing happens just because it could, everything needs to come from somewhere. So, where does their light come from? The earliest knowledge comes from legends of a heroic spirit that sacrificed himself to save Niwen from certain doom by becoming the current Spirit Tree, but even those are clouded in a sense of mystery. Does that mean they only exist to act as a kind of seed? How could someone be so determined to creating new trees that they give up their life in order to do it? The only answers I could come up with suggest that the spirits don't have any real feelings, and only care that the cycle of the forest continues. Worse yet, I can't even confirm that the legend has any basis in reality at all, because I wasn't there to observe the event. No archaeologist could possibly rely on such a myth and consider it truth without any evidence. I'll need to find my own sources.

It took years, but my investigation is finally pouring light on a possible lead. I'm sure that the spirits did exist for at least a short period of time in history. After all, I already had one big piece of evidence for the validity of the legends, the obvious and even organic example that is the Spirit Tree itself. I don't know quite what the sphere on its top should represent, but I'm certain that it has some essential properties for the forces of light that the tree controls. Exactly what properties they are, I'm uncertain. It's possible that nobody knows anymore, and the knowledge was lost with the spirits forever. Perhaps they even communicate directly with the tree, which would explain much of their history and motives. If only I could have even a fleeting conversation with one. Who knows? Everything's possible down here…

Ori flipped another page. Numerous scribbles aside, the author seemed to be quite scholarly in their approach to the investigation. The various errors in logic were humorous to read, at least.

I've now been down here for more than ten days. It has been continually frustrating to crawl through the unforgiving darkness and disperse these nasty critters without finding anything more than the occasional engraved sketch or small knickknack that reveals nothing I don't already know. Worse yet, the darkness is slowly eating away at my mind, decaying my most important faculty down here. I reckon that moki were never made to go without sunlight for this long. Yes, we do live in the more shady places throughout the forest, but pure darkness for ten days is tough on the soul. At least, it is on mine.

I've decided to make this place a temporary home. I have a fire pit, something to eat, and of course, my journal, the only "person" I can really talk with… I guess I'm not completely alone down here, but I am feeling somewhat lonely…

Finally, I've found something! It looks like some kind of gate leading into an ancient temple. I'm positive that this was built by the spirits. They must have godlike powers to create something like this. I have to get in! Hopefully I'll find more answers inside.

The next page was torn from the spine, seemingly done in a hasty manner. "A temple? Down here?" Ori asked the air as if the author sat right next to him. "I'll have to see that! Of all the parts that could have been ripped off, why did it have to be the most important one?" He closed the book in his paws and readied himself to continue on his way out of the cave. "Maybe the earlier entries in the journal can guide me out of here…" His voice mumbled off towards the end as he realized that he had nothing to carry the book in. "I really should have taken a bag with me…"

Ori was still looking for something to act as an emergency satchel when suddenly, the diary began to glow a bright blue. The confused spirit watched the book shine brighter and brighter with an astounded look on his face. The light began to get so bright it almost hurt to look at, and he was debating on whether he needed to drop it and run when the book vanished. "Uhh… What just happened?" stuttered Ori, even more confused now. His only hint on finding a way out was gone. "Where," he asked, "is the book?"

The blue light came back, this time his paws glowing as if he were trying to summon his sword. His eyes widened in astonishment as the book slowly materialized right in his own paws, eventually dropping into them and resuming its previous form. A quick inspection revealed no signs that the book had ever been touched at all. He still couldn't believe it. He didn't need a bag, he had his own magical storage room!

There was only one conclusion to make. "I'm a wizard!" he shouted happily. His demeanor became the happiest it had been in the whole time he had been traversing the cave. With a laugh, it was time to continue on his way, his motivation to investigate invigorated by the incredible discovery. "Well then, let's find that temple!"

He didn't need the journal's guidance immediately, as there was only one path forward through the darkness. It was quiet, and all the cavern life seemed to have been left behind him with the bats. The peaceful atmosphere, combined with the consistent drops of water falling from the ceiling and the fast, leaping strides he took made for a calming, almost enjoyable experience. Soon, he knew, he would find the entrance to the temple, and everything would be okay.

The trip was short, and he entered a cavernous room lined with ancient engravings of spirits in various poses. A huge stone door sealed the entrance between him and the inside of the temple; he had finally arrived at a place in the caves that he liked. "We did it!" said the spirit in excitement. He had already gotten used to talking to his new silent friend, it made him feel better, more connected to the glowing being and the author by simultaneously addressing the diary. "But how are we meant to get in?" The diary was his only clue, and he summoned it forth to consult for advice. "Maybe the book can tell us more. Let's see here…"

There must be a way in. I've looked for any hints detailing on how to get inside, but the spirits didn't make it easy for me. This must be some sort of trial, something that you had to pass to be allowed to enter their private realm. Surely, they've hidden away a hint somewhere. Maybe the engravings are a form of riddle?

"Ah, of course. The drawings." Ori found himself more and more pleased with the author as the journal went on, it was just so helpful! To either side of the gate stood a spirit guardian holding a small flame in their paws. Both sides also pointed towards a small path going off in their respective directions, with one spirit proudly clutching a torch close to themselves standing above the passageways.

"Torches?" the spirit asked himself. The information didn't seem helpful, and he didn't know what to do with it until he took a closer look at the engravings and discovered gold-plated brackets on either side of the torches. "Oh, I see. I have to search for these torches and put them into the brackets," he assessed. "I guess I'll probably have to explore both sides. Let's try… left."

Only a short way down the passage did the firefly illuminate some kind of stone bridge. It looked like it had remained in place for millennia, but Ori wasn't sure. He turned his head to look for another way forward, but the unsafe-looking bricks seemed to be the only path he was presented with. And while the masonry was questionable, his investigation revealed that the entire thing was supported by some extremely thin ropes hanging from the ceiling, with absolutely no support from the sides or underneath. They didn't look like they'd hold his weight, even with him as light as he was. "Maybe the author found another way?" he asked. He must have, there was no way he was stupid enough to trust those shoddy ropes. He quickly took out the journal again, driving over the lines with his finger till he reached where he'd left off.

I came to a stony bridge hanging from the cave's ceiling. It had to have been abandoned ages ago, the rope didn't look very stable. I would rather avoid learning what awaited me in the abyss below, but I had to cross it to find that torch, so I had to try at the very minimum…

Yes! I made it across the bridge, and it didn't collapse underneath me. Now it's back to the quest to find that torch. I know it's somewhere nearby, I can feel it. I can almost taste the sweet victory hiding around the corner.

While his kind soul prevented him from feeling anything like frustration at the author, the fear that there really were no other options was stronger as to even it up. He had already been afraid of that outcome, and to be told that there really was only one way to cross the bridge killed a lot of his exploratory dreams. Still though, he had to cross the pit. "So that's really all there is to it, then? Just cross the bridge? I actually need to trust my fate to these thin ropes?" He turned his head back to the way he had came. "I don't have a choice, do I? There's simply no other way." With the edge of his right paw placed over his heart, he slowly raised his left hoof and gently placed it on the first brick of the bridge. Surprisingly, it did feel stable. No cracks, no shaking, no wacky shenanigans to suggest he was standing on anything but solid ground. His paw could definitely feel the tension in his heart as it beat through another marathon, but he began to put his other hoof right beside the other. Now his life was truly up to this untrustworthy bridge's suspension. He could look over the edge if he wanted, it didn't matter as there was only a gaping black void below. There didn't seem to be a bottom at all. His light didn't reach much further than the end of the bridge, and it certainly couldn't illuminate even the walls of the pit. Instead, he tried to control his breath as to not hyperventilate and pass out from the dread squeezing his lungs.

He carefully walked along the middle of the bridge, placing one hoof after the other with utmost caution. All of his sense were fully active as his dread locked his full attention on the bridge in front of him. He was almost at the middle, almost halfway across the very tongue of damnation itself. Expecting a sudden change to come at any moment, his ears stood straight up, fearing any change to the unmoving environment. His mind was already torn to shreds during the previous terrors of today, but this terrible uncertainty was far worse. His hooves were rubbing along a path that he didn't even know to be stable enough to hold him. What should he do if it collapsed?

A sudden rip cut through the silence, that up until now had only been disturbed by his shuffling hooves. A poisoned arrow shot through his heart, and he feared the worst. One glance above him, and he knew he was right. Dread almost paralyzed him, but panic overtook it and he managed to move his body with lighting speed. His legs ran to the other side as quickly as they could. It really wasn't that far now, he could make it. He had to! But with every step he took, the thin, devilish ropes straight from hell itself seemed as if they were trying to seal his fate and loosened more and more from the shaking bridge while also torturing him with their horrific ripping sounds. He could only hear how they let go of the bridge beneath him, trying to doom him to fall. Seconds passed quicker than they ever had before. The stone lost more stability with every beat of his heart. He was so close now, only a couple more steps to safety when the floor broke in front of him, and he bent his legs to jump.

The jump came too late. The unforgiving stones dragged his weight down with them almost maliciously, it was as if he wanted to leap over a wall. He simply couldn't jump high enough. As he fell, only one word whizzed through his mind. "Why?" He left his right paw outstretched to the edge he should have grabbed, reaching for the last string of fading hope he couldn't possibly reach. The void wasn't going to be kind to him today, and with a dread-filled face soaked in sorrow, he fell deep into the unknown void, screaming, his cries slowly going silent as the endless abyss devoured him.

…

Darkness. An empty room, filled with naught but unpleasant dread. His hooves played a constant beat on the wet floor beneath them as he moved forward.

Where was he going? Every direction, every corner, every kind of thing to look at or in gave the same glassy black visage as the rest. He was unsure of the kind of magical force that drove him further, but he didn't question it anymore.

A voice called out to him. It was a very familiar voice, the voice of his family. Naru and Gumo were calling out to him!

His steps increased in speed, they became faster and faster as he stretched out his right paw to reach for his goal, the direction of their kind voices. There they were, waiting for him, spreading their arms wide in preparation for a wonderful hug. Tears of joy streamed behind him, sinking down his warm fur with love.

It was all a trick. Suddenly, something terribly hard grasped his shoulders, claws with no origin violently tore him from his family. He let out a squeak of confusion, why was this happening? His family was right there in front of him! But now they winked with their ever calm, kind faces as their son was pulled further and further away. His right paw, still outstretched, began to cramp painfully. The sight of his family became plain as a picture hanging from the wall, and shattered into thousands of tiny shards that flew directly toward the spirit. Before they could reach him, the rest of his body began to cramp and feel as though it were made of wood. His paw hurt the most, right before it became a dark, gnarly brown and hardened completely as the infection spread along his body. His sight began to fade and the world around him darkened, surely a symptom of the spreading death. Before the brown could cover his face forever, a voice he was sure he had never heard before spoke.

"It is time, Ori."