“To begin with, which of you can tell me what this is?”
Sihvan proudly waved back at the abstract tree-like sculpture which dominated the cloister. The Major and Raime now stood side by side, separated by a significant distance, both facing Sihvan and the sculpted tree. The Major was still reeling from the unexpected altercation with this new character but the focus back on what he came for washed it all away. He tried to gauge the extent of the professor’s question, Sihvan wasn’t prone to tricks in his teachings but maybe there was something more specific he was asking. The Major had been motivated to enter this place because it would be the first time where he could actually answer a question without disrupting the atmosphere. However, now that the opportunity had been granted to him, the Major had to confront the reality that he had absolutely no idea what he was looking at. There was a similar sculpture, albeit bigger, on the fountain at the center of the plaza facing Freeway station. But Raime must’ve known as much, as they had crossed paths here once.
“There’s the same one in front of Freeway… I think.”
Raime had replied first, without raising their hand. What kind of manners was this? The Major wordlessly turned his head towards them, then back to the tree once he noticed how uncomfortable Raime was when he looked at them directly. Either way, they indeed didn’t know more, maybe even feigning being unsure about their similarities.
“Major?”
Sihvan was checking if he had anything to add. The Major shook his head, waiting on a better opportunity to speak aloud.
“No shame in throwing guesses out there if you have any by the way, I’m not going to test you later. But this, behind me, is the Marrow Tree.”
The name didn’t click in his mind. He heard Raime gasp faintly at the words, he couldn’t resist the urge to turn towards them again, prompting them to hiccup. The Major would have to be content with keeping them in his peripheral vision for the time being if he wanted to keep them from throwing up.
“You wanted to say something, Raime?”
“I was just surprised, I never knew the station’s fountain was of the Marrow Tree.”
The Major had already severely underestimated this one. They were not on equal grounds, they must have grown up taking classes in the east wing. Even if merely for human children, it was still potentially decades of education didn’t have. Maybe it would be better for him to stay silent and follow their footsteps as Sihvan would need to work less on accommodating him.
“Ah ha, so you know the story?”
“Not by heart, it wasn’t my favorite.”
“Too convoluted?”
“You could say that.”
The Major could’ve sunk half his height into the ground, he doubted either of them would notice. He had nothing to add, his idealized vision of a tour of the museum slipping ever further. Again, he would have to be fine with that for the time being.
“Good. That gives me a good idea of where we’re at. See, Major, I had the opportunity to speak a little with Raime here prior to your arrival so I know what they came here for. But what about you?”
The Major didn’t expect the conversation to bounce back to him this fast. The expanse of history was vast, as long as it was new information it would immediately be better than the feedback loop he was forced to endure at Universalis. The Major didn’t doubt Sihvan had enough knowledge around the building to make a hundred years worth of new classes. Still, he needed to narrow it down if he wanted to bring back something of value in a short amount of time.
“I would like to hear what they are seeking.”
He saw them fidget in place from the corner of his left lens, this time keeping his head straight towards Sihvan to let the wanderer speak without more pressure.
“They said they were looking for, and I quote, “freak shit”,” Sihvan said, likely taking the Major’s gaze as him avoiding asking Raime directly.
This sounded convenient enough, it was morbid curiosity after all that guided this one to come here. Hardly strong enough intent to call it “motivation”. Maybe they were bored with scouring the city and was starting to look elsewhere for thrills. The Capitán would likely say it’s better to educate themselves than to end up like Dove. He welcomed the opportunity, as vague as their request was, if Sihvan had an answer thought out, the Major figured it would lead somewhere he could learn something of value.
“I can go along with the “freak shit” program.”
The Major saw Raime take a peek at him, this time with a confused, even slightly concerned look on their face. He paid it no mind, they had no business in knowing why he was there. He well expected them to accept the compromise like he did.
“Wonderful,” Sihvan replied, unfazed, “Take a seat, both of you.”
Sihvan had pointed specifically at the Major with that sentence. Admittedly, during the first few classes he attended, the Major had decided to not sit down in the rows of the amphitheater, instead staying immobile next to the door like a mailbox. It had taken Sihvan softening up and wordlessly inviting him for the Major to actually put his legs under a table. At the time, the Major had truly believed staying out of sight of the rest of the class would be better for everyone, but worried glances from the other students only started to dwindle once he’d accepted a seat alongside them. Here, Sihvan was once again going out of his way to not single him out, even in a congregation of only three. Raime hadn’t wasted a second to think, sitting back down cross legged on the gravel with a sigh of relief, and so the Major followed suit.
“Don’t mind me rambling for a bit,” Sihvan continued, pacing around under the tree, “This is a unique situation, I need to pay attention to what I say so that you both can follow. The Major knows what I taught him and Raime knows about the Marrow Tree… As it stands each of you respectively know the end and the beginning of our modern world.”
The Major saw Raime raise an eyebrow but Sihvan didn’t pause for questions.
“So we will go backwards. Jiù ēn didn’t leave me, or anyone for that matter, much in the department of archives. It’s a hassle, trying to uncover what they were thinking then, with how little they left behind. However something has always been very clear. Why they came and why they left. Salvation, as is the name we bestowed upon them.”
The stiff branches of the statue cast long shadows over them. Within the sheltered atmosphere of the cloister it truly felt like they were somewhere far from everything. Sihvan was abbreviating some parts of what the Major had learned. The hardest aspect of this corner of time for him to comprehend was the supposed altruism that Jiù ēn embodied. He, as a frame, was born from them, shaped to their purposes that hadn’t come to pass. The Exodus happened without him realizing it, the Major doubted he had even been conscious then. Was this salvation as well? There were more to be learned from the time they had stood over Terra, back when the whole world was cradled under their wings.
“When Jiù ēn was around, all of the strife directed against them that I mentioned was… driven by emotion. Humans, myrrh, locus, some of them were being stubborn, driving against a gigantic force of nature that only wanted them to live. It’s easy for us now to think how pointless it all was, why fight them at all?”
The Major, in a passing moment, became aware of the difference in size between him and both Sihvan and Raime. Back in the underbelly, stepping in the threshold of blood, he had sought something from deep inside of him. Something that hadn’t answered.
“There is not much freak shit to be found there. There’s some mementos of warlords from centuries ago on the second floor, manifestos I’ve read. It’s a lot of sadness, masked by insanity and a deep desire to pass through Jiù ēn. They all differed in intentions and methods, but they all saw themselves, their fight, as righteous, as if there was no other way.”
It was as far as the Major had learned before getting stuck in a loop created by a never ending cycle of new attendees. The last warlord, Vulpine, who tried to sabotage one of the Jiù ēn ship preparing for the Exodus. She failed, lacking in preparations due to Jiù ēn’s swift procedures to flee the planet. Vulpine got reckless, her hail mary resulting in only killing 9 terrans and severely injuring a dozen more. The few that were present during the attack that ended up finding their way to Last Kunlun recounted the story. In the wake of the disaster, she gave up, kneeling in front of them, arms outreached, accepting her fate. But when the dust settled and the sky was clear, Vulpine was still here, her arms having slumped to her side. They were never judges, nor executioners, and so they left her, alongside those that chose to stay.
“I’m bringing this up so that you’re both aware that despite what we’ll end up talking about, Jiù ēn’s era wasn’t a utopia. It’s up to you both to learn more if you want to make conclusions on both Jiù ēn and the warlord’s methods, if you’re interested of course.”
The Major was theirs, Jiù ēn’s product, made for their designs. Was he meant to emulate their doctrine? Wasn’t it something he was supposed to intrinsically know? The questions fell light upon his back. They felt so far away, their ties to him, nonexistent. He was learning as much as Raime, the weave of his frame hadn’t granted him any foresight and didn’t make him choose a side after listening to Sihvan.
“Wars despite their enforced order. Famine despite their limitless gifts. Death despite their unbridled efforts to sustain life. In more than a millennia of coexistence there were enough strife for them to be justified in leaving this planet behind. Yet they stayed, until the very last moment. They were often revered as gods, but they didn’t bask in it. Jiù ēn was very vocal, in the few statements they addressed to the world, about what had guided them here. Terra’s own lighthouse.”
Sihvan smiled and pointed upwards to the tangle of branches sprawling above him. The Major kept Raime in his peripheral vision at all times, their reactions proving very evocative. They had been squinting, visibly working hard on staying focused, but the second mention of the Marrow Tree finally made them interject.
“Wait it’s a real thing? I thought it was just a-”
“A myth? Come to the right place didn’t you?” Sihvan laughed, “Like I said, Jiù ēn was never interested in bookkeeping, even with their evident respect for the tree itself they didn’t study it, nor tried to understand its intent. They had responded to a call, as they do. The Marrow Tree very much exists, probably still stands proud, far to the west.”
“Probably?”
“I mean, I haven’t gone to see it myself, it’s kind of cold outside the city.”
“Fair enough.”
The Major wasn’t sure if he was jealous or grateful for Raime to be this quick to bring up questions that kept the flow of the story going. Both options appeared severely childish.
“Keeping track of history during Jiù ēn’s era was already difficult, exasperated studies make up for more than half of all the papers I got with this museum. Learning what happened before their arrival is nigh impossible, but I have a crucial artifact around. Can you guess when the first terran calendar started?”
The Major didn’t even know exactly for how long Jiù ēn was on Terra, it was complicated to imagine how long civilizations had existed before then. Nonetheless, a number came to mind. 4999 years ago.
“I’ll say 2000 years ago,” Raime said, and after a pause, “You can round it up to the next thousand.”
“Major?”
The number repeated in his mind.
“4999 years ago.”
“Close! The oldest recovered lunisolar calendar tracked up to 5199 years ago, I’m confident in being the only one still keeping track of this one.”
The guess was significantly closer than Raime’s. An instinctual whistle came out of the Major’s neck. It startled the wanderer again, however this time they only shot him a frustrated glance. The Major paid them no mind.
“My predecessor, by that I mean the one who took care of the museum before me, called the several millennia between the dawn of terran civilization and the arrival of Jiù ēn; the “dark ages”. I exaggerate the quotation marks because I’m not really a fan of the saying but I haven’t found a better one. It’s like a bottomless abyss of knowledge noone can delve in anymore. I still get some interesting things in what the Scavengers bring back but it’s… crumbs, fragments, pardon my language, it’s fucking nothing. I haven’t managed to add a single piece of value to this museum, granted it hasn’t been that long all things considered but… all that to say is what I know is all that we have. Raime, you agreed the tale of the Marrow Tree was convoluted, confusing, and I’ll even add that it doesn’t actually have a proper ending.”
The Major saw Raime nod knowingly.
“And all of that is not up for debate! That’s because it was never artistic intent, the story of the Marrow Tree isn’t a fabricated tale. It’s a retelling, the one and only testimony of one who saw it bloom. Raime, could you elaborate on what you thought when reading the story?”
It was subtle, but the Major saw their shoulders slouch a bit.
“Well… I didn’t exactly read it per se…”
“It was told to you by someone? As a child?”
“Hm hm…” Raime replied, ashamedly.
“That’s even more interesting… who even reads this story to children.”
Sihvan feigned indignation but couldn’t help cracking a smile. The subtlety of the humor was lost on the Major. He was aware the nature of fiction needed to be adapted to human children still in the process of developing their cognitive capabilities, but they would learn to read by themselves eventually. Why was Raime feeling bashful about it? His first sighting of them had been eleven years ago, when they were half the size they currently are. They were likely younger than he had expected. Were there implications he was missing? Raime’s presence in this cloister ended up tying more unknown variables to his search for answers.
“My… neighbor, they liked these kinds of stories. I never understood her enjoyment of the Marrow Tree but at least it didn’t give me nightmares.”
“Sorry Major, small tangent, which one gave you nightmares?”
He saw Raime getting increasingly uncomfortable, fidgeting with their hands. The Major didn’t mind them actively regretting to stay even if their presence had grown to be serviceable. Like most recent attendees of Universalis, they were likely to not be back a second time.
“The one with the monkey…”
“The Monkey and the Monster, it’s a bit daunting for children I guess but… Well to get back on track, you see how all of this ties back to this tree behind me?”
The Major had trouble following.
“Not really…” Raime said, glad to be back out of the spotlight.
“Exactly. You both wanted something out of the ordinary, there is nothing more apt than the Marrow Tree itself. This sculpture, the fountain in Freeway and the small one in the Hull all depicted the tree as faithfully as they could. Have you ever seen something like this? Trick question, the flora around here isn’t really that diverse. I’ll answer in your stead, there is nothing like it, it’s a monument made of bone, that bloomed in the center of a city that folded unto itself six times over to become an unrecognizable melting pot of terran architecture frozen in time. The same city that inspired the one we’re in right now. Between the dark ages and Jiù ēn’s era, here it stands, still and silent, an unexplained phenomenon defying all laws of nature. If I didn’t tell you, Raime would have gone home tonight still thinking it was fictional, and both of you would’ve crossed the statues again thinking no more of it.”
The mention of going home took the Major aback, the Sun was well on his way to disappear behind the horizon. Just as the thought occurred to him, white garlands turned themselves on from inside the branches of the statue, illuminating the entire cloister in striped shadows and lights.
“Damn, I barely got started…” Sihvan snapped his tongue, “You like the light show? Made it myself, the windows don’t offer much anymore.”
The Major rose in a symmetric motion. His eyes fell on Raime, their eyes lost in the sudden spectacle. He followed their gaze, white lights weren’t too common, too reminiscent of the eye of the Sun. But there was no fear reflected in their face, as if the Major had disappeared from their existence. His own presence would be fickle compared to the astral being. Jealously. Gratefulness. Introspection. Actualization.
“I need to take my leave, professor,” The Major said, approaching Sihvan, “I have not given notice to the Capitán as to my presence here.”
“Oh sure, we can stop here for today, if you’re coming back?”
It didn’t sound like much but the mention of the folded city, frozen in time and the Marrow Tree, going against nature itself, had grabbed the Major’s attention. There were high chances the wanderer wouldn’t come back again as well, especially if it was a story they were already familiar with. Even without immediate result, the Major was satisfied that he hadn’t followed his desire to leave prematurely. It was the task she had given him, results could pan out. She would more than likely be pleased.
“Alright,” Sihvan clapped his hands together and addressed Raime, “It’s early to wrap up but this was a totally impromptu thing on my part and that’s not where I shine! Tomorrow same time?”
The Major saw them ponder, rising less gracefully than him and shoving gravel off their backside.
“Maybe?”
“Unconvinced lot, you two huh. Come on I’ll show you out.”
The three of them crossed the black glass doors back inside the museum, the Major saw Raime shooting one last look at the illuminated tree before scooting away at a reasonable distance from both him and Sihvan. Despite the passage of time, the atmosphere between the walls of the ground floor hadn’t changed. Even if the dim lighting had become more approachable for him, the Major didn’t mind being led out of the building. For all his qualities, he was never intrinsically competent at finding his way around, even if he would learn fast.
“Aha, check this out,” Sihvan stopped them in their tracks.
The professor pointed to a small altar hidden in shadows. Sihvan swiftly made his way to it and tapped on the wall beside the altar. One of the dim orange projectors mounted on the ceiling reacted and adjusted its gaze to land on them. The cone of light presented a glass case, and inside; a thick tablet engraved in unknown symbols.
“I did mention it right? That’s the oldest lunisolar calendar, probably in the entire world with how fragile they are. Fully made of hardened clay, nothing fancier, five millennia old…”
The Major stood to Sihvan’s right, Raime to his left, their eyes glued to the glass case but keeping their hands well off it. After having observed them for a bit, the Major wasn’t convinced the distance was out of good manners.
“It didn’t click in my head then, but luni?” Raime asked, “did they have a moon to count with back then?”
“Makes you wonder, right?,” replied Sihvan with a sly smile, “Keep that in mind for tomorrow, hm?”
“Eh.”
The factual inconsistency hadn’t even crossed his mind. The Major kept receiving information from Sihvan at face value, not even stopping to recontextualize what he was learning. He felt conflicted, the presence of the wanderer was proving invaluable to get further answers to questions he didn’t think to ask. It felt like a crutch. Forgetting about his previous effort, he had unconsciously stared at them long enough for Raime to notice. They proceeded to pretend not to but the shift in their stance and expression was obvious.
Stepping away from the altar, under the shifting projectors, they reached the small door that had led him in. From the inside, the massive darkened door loomed to their right, tightly closed, letting nothing shine through. Raime slipped through the auxiliary door first and the Major followed, bowing his back to not leave a dent behind. Before they spread into the freshly descended night, Sihvan stopped them, hand on the door’s handle.
“Hey, see you tomorrow alright? Both of you.”
Even after insisting so much, the professor didn’t wait for their answer, instead closing the door with a loud thud. Raime had already descended the steps down to street level but they stopped mid way to ponder the possibility once more. Undecided, this one proved to be a very passive loose cannon. The Major didn’t have time to handle their presence any longer. As Sihvan’s exercise ended, they were now out of the museum and free to take back their own preconceptions with them. He stepped down the stairs as well, but Raime didn’t flee from his sudden movement, instead watching him reach the street. The Major eyes caught the looks of passerby passing in and out of Byzance. That fear once more, reflected in all of them. The pace of their stride, the beat of their hearts, the sweat on their skin, all thrown into disarray by his presence.
“It’s a shame we didn’t go through the big doors right?”
The Major looked back. Raime had addressed him, from higher up on the steps they were the one looking down on him, shooting a thumb over their shoulder to the great doors of the museum. They didn’t seem more confident than they’d been when they first met in the cloister. Their face didn’t differ much from those who shared his class in Universalis, those who worked harder than anyone to not cross him in any way. And yet there was a question, a light query that invited something. The Major looked at the doors again, even with its queer appearance they appeared less ominous under the night lights. He had wanted them to open for him as well.
“I agree. I could ask Sihvan if I can open them tomorrow.”
Did he want to prove something? The Major couldn’t figure out why the words came out of him. The thought hadn’t crossed his mind before this instant. He needed to go, she would be waiting for him by now.
The corner of Raime’s mouth cracked a shy smile, “You’re not what I expected.”
They were the one to move first, stepping down and going on their way, hands deep in their pockets, without looking back. He had been the one to promise, through unnecessary innuendos that he would be there tomorrow, waiting. One right word, one powerful step, one hiss of his frame and they would have been sent running back to the corners of the Hull, never to be seen again. Yet here he stood. The Major looked at his frame’s right hand, six outstretched fingers reflecting the warm lights around him.