It turned out there was actually a shrine quite close to their inn, a small wooden building tucked away near the base of the trunk, surrounded by greenery. True to purpose, it did seem to gather quite a few spirits near its roof, which hung with chimes that tinkled in the breeze.

"Well, that was easy enough," Corrin remarked, placing his hands on his hips.

"No wonder we didn't see it before," Kei grumbled.

"I'm sure there's bigger ones around," Wyn said. "But this should do. He walked ahead, gravel crunching beneath his feet as he left the smooth paved stone of the main street.

Corrin stuck his hands into his pockets as he followed, trying to listen for the elusive song that ghosted the city. Of course, he didn't hear anything, and couldn't make out the 'swaying' that supposedly took place, but he liked to imagine that he could, trying to form patterns and tunes from the movements he saw.

Hell, even the sunlight danced across the ground here. The leaves of the spirit tree's numerous offshoots danced in the wind, filtering the light into shimmering beams. He had to admit, the singing city was quite remarkable, and he was grateful for the slight detour.

Still, it was a detour for Wyn's sake at the end of the day. Corrin had no trouble making it, but he wondered what he could get from the city that would compare to Wyn, since meeting with another great spirit would no doubt push his friend's abilities to new heights. Corrin was ahead—at least as he saw it—but since finishing his channels, Wyn had begun nipping at his heels once more. Corrin had every confidence that Wyn would continue to grow stronger, so he needed to keep pushing himself as well.

But at this point, the way forward as he understood it, was learning techniques, something he really didn't know much about. He'd tried to develop more over the past few months, but they had thus far escaped him.

Damn that bastard Tor. I should've milked him for more information.

Even in his mind though, his complaint was half-hearted. It had been a fun journey, so he couldn't complain. He was still confident he'd figure out the next step, and if Wyn caught up, all the better—they could solve the problem together.

With that thought in mind, Corrin looked up and smiled as he passed into the shrine.

It seemed they'd come at a good time, as the shrine was empty save for a single priest in earthen green robes sweeping the wood-paneled floors. He paused as they entered, bowing once before leaning against the broom with a warm smile.

"Spirit's blessings upon you this morning."

The three of them bowed back, then Wyn took a step forward.

"I would entreat you for a moment of time," he said, bowing his head again for good measure.

The priest silently gestured for them to sit at a low-table to the side of the room. He retreated through a door in the back, and returned a moment later, just as Corrin knelt on one of the cushions, with a stick of incense in hand.

"You are welcome to this humble shrine," the priest said, sitting with them and lighting the incense before placing it into a small, sand-filled bowl on the table. The smoke drifted up into the air, a rich and earthy scent. "How may I be of assistance?"

Wyn set his palms flat on the table. "We're seeking information regarding great spirits in this area, I was wondering if you would know where we would be able to find one?"

The priest blinked, then began to laugh.

Wyn chuckled awkwardly. "I'm sorry if it's a strange request, but it's of importance to me."

The priest held up a hand. "No no, I must apologize. It is an odd question, I must admit this is a first for me. However, that is not why I laughed. Tell me, what do you know of Haoma, The Spirit Tree?"

"Little enough that I've never heard of the former."

"Ah, you must be new to Liresil then."

"We're travelers, yes."

"I see. Well, the simplest answer is that Liresil is home to a dualism. Haoma refers to two beings, who are yet one in the same. Of course, the tree is most well-known. Its roots spread far throughout this land, enriching it beyond anywhere else in the world. In all our history we have never known drought, nor famine. War, yes—many have come to claim our home—but even the poorest citizen in Liresil wants not for food. In this way, the tree enriches the land, and the people who live here.

But of course, such a cradle of life has been coveted by many. The central basin is home to many conflicts, and Liresil has often found itself at the center of them. And thus we need strength to defend it. Though the tree contains plentiful energies, it is still but a tree, lacking the wisdom to wield it. And thus Haoma was born, the great spirit of the tree, its first caretaker, and the arbiter of its blessings. Haoma directs the tree's vast powers, using them to defend against enemies, and empowering its people to do the same. That is why I laughed, you see? You ask to find the great spirit, and yet he is all around you."

"Wait…" Corrin frowned. "You mean the tree is around me? But Haoma is the great spirit?"

"They are one in essence, nature or substance, but two in person."

Corrin let out the faintest of sighs. This priest was definitely a traditionalist. Either the tree was Haoma, or they were two different beings, so which was it? Then again, Corrin wasn't exactly spiritual, so maybe he just didn't have the right lens for viewing it. Oddly, Fenfreth had been quite progressive for a priest from what Corrin understood, and the old man being able to literally speak to them had always… demystified them in his eyes.

Wyn just nodded though, and if he was as confused as Corrin, he didn't show it.

"And would it be possible to speak with Haoma? If he is the spirit I'm searching for, I have reason to believe I should be able to commune with him."

The priest tapped the table. "Well, in theory I believe it would be so, though I am unable to help you in this regard."

"I see, and do you know another priest who could?"

"Not a priest," he shook his head. "Though I may speak on my knowledge of the tree, our responsibilities lie with the minor spirits who reside here. I recommend you seek the Sepals of Liresil. They are the mortal caretakers of the tree, warriors chosen by Haoma himself, and would know more about him than I."

"These Sepals, where could we find them?"

"It may be difficult to get an audience this close to the summer solstice—it's a busy time for such important figures—but Sepal Viresa is a member of the Ecclesia. Ascend the tree as high as you are able. The Ecclesterion rests amidst its branches at the top of the city, and you should be able to find her there. Just walk right in, they love to make a spectacle of governance, so it's open to the public."

"Thank you sir," Wyn bowed his head. "You have been more than helpful."

"Of course. I would be a poor priest indeed to deny such aid, much less to one so loved by the spirits as yourself."

Wyn started. "What do you mean?"

"You have a blessing do you not? The song is stronger around you, more than I've ever felt before."

"Ah well, yes. I have a blessing. I couldn't speak on the song though."

"Then I should not press. Though, if you would like, please take this opportunity to cleanse yourselves before you leave." He gestured towards a small pail of water near the entrance. Corrin was familiar with the ritual, clapping his hands together and praying for the spirit's blessings before dipping them into the water, letting it wash away impurities.

Corrin might not have been particularly spiritual, but he did appreciate the rituals from time to time. In his youth, he'd worn a wooden beaded necklace into his serious battles, a talisman meant to provide good luck. He found that rituals like that helped him get into the right state of mind for things, though it had been years since he'd worn it.

He was pretty sure he'd actually packed the necklace, and wondered if he should start wearing it again. It was actually pretty cool in his opinion, but he filed the thought away for later.

Wyn and Kei followed his example with the water, letting their hands dry naturally without shaking. They thanked the priest once more and made their way back towards the entrance.

The priest cleared his throat behind them, and Corrin turned around, confused. The priest's eyes glanced towards a small metal tray on a shelf next to them. A few coins glittered at its bottom.

Ah… Corrin realized what he wanted.

Well, maybe he wasn't a fan of all the rituals.

***

Reaching the top of the tree was actually quite the walk, entirely uphill through the winding city streets, and though Corrin and Wyn were fine, Kei had started breathing a little heavy by the time they reached the top. Still, the view was perhaps worth it. The city of Liresil sprawled out below, and stretching beyond it were the rivers, so distant it seemed as though they'd instead been simply painted onto a canvas of hills and lush forest.

The architecture of the city, already elaborate, had only grown more so as they ascended, with white spires peaked with golden caps seemingly popular. Corrin wasn't sure if they were houses, temples, or something else entirely, but they were impressive nonetheless.

At the very end, a single pathway led up to the final platform, home to The Ecclesterion, a massive circular amphitheatre, with high walls ringing its exterior. It seemed they were more than just walls though, as the arches some thirty feet up revealed a hallway within, open to the outside. To the right, a huge chunk was missing from the upper wall, almost like a firestone had erupted and blown away parts of the limestone, but it was more a curiosity than anything.

Who knew what kind of stuff this 'democracy' involved?

The sun was brighter at the top floor, with less leaves above to filter through, and it had grown hot. Thankfully, so high up a cool breeze was blowing—it was actually quite pleasant.

"So what's your plan to convince her?" Corrin asked as they walked up to the Ecclesterion.

Wyn clicked his tongue. "Would it be too much to hope Iillia somehow let them know I'd be coming in advance?"

Corrin snorted.

"Yeah yeah… Seriously though, I'd imagine they have some knowledge of the situation, and Iillia seemed confident I'd be able to contact her brother. Assuming that's this Haoma, I'm thinking at the very least they'll have some idea of what's going on. I just have to get in front of one of the Sepal. Then I'll flash around some spirit fire, mention Iillia, and hope for the best."

"That's a pretty flimsy plan," Kei deadpanned, having recovered her breath.

Wyn shrugged. "It's the best I've got right now. If it doesn't work, I'll think of something else, but I really just need to get her curious. That's the most important part."

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They approached the entrance, where a man in off-white robes was standing. They were of a strange make, cut short at the arms and legs, but it made sense if they wanted to maintain decorum in the summer. He called out as they got closer.

"I'm afraid the Ecclesterion is closed today," he said.

"I was led to believe that we could simply walk in and watch the proceedings," Wyn said, confused.

The man smiled apologetically. "Usually yes, but the building is under renovations in preparation for the summer festival, so it has been closed to the public. I'm so sorry for the inconvenience."

"Please, is there any way you can make an exception?" Wyn asked. "I have important business with Sepal Viresa."

"Sepal Vi—" the man's eyes widened slightly. "Wait here, I'll get my superior."

"Her name must carry a lot of weight," Corrin noted. "I'm shocked that it worked."

Kei frowned, watching the man run into the hallway and turn a corner, picking up speed from his brisk walk. "I'm not so sure that's what's happening here. Didn't his reaction seem a little strange?"

"Maybe she's really mean or something?"

They didn't have to wait long, as instead of the young man they'd spoken to, an older man, tall with a wrinkled face stepped back out into the sun. His robes instead were a dark shade of violet, almost black. His eyes moved slowly between them, measuring each one in turn, and he didn't say anything for just a little longer than was comfortable.

"What are your names?" He finally asked, speaking curtly.

"Um… I'm Wyn, this is Corrin, and Kei."

"Family names?"

"We, well we don't have any, Corrin and I anyways."

Kei stepped forward, holding out a hand. "Kei Ameas."

The man glanced at her hand, but didn't take it. Instead his eyes flicked back to Wyn. "How do you know the Sepal?"

"I—I don't sir, at least not personally. But I have something I need to speak to her about."

"And what would that be?"

Wyn worked his jaw for a few seconds. "It's private, I'm sorry."

The man stared at them, unmoving as a statue. He seemed to be considering something, coming to a decision after a moment.

"The Sepal is too busy at the moment to make time for children. Try again after the summer solstice. I'm sure her schedule will free up following the festival."

"Sir, please. I need only speak to her for a moment."

"Boy, do you have any idea who the Sepals are? Yes it's true that the Ecclesia run the city's day-to-day operations, passing laws and managing the budget, but no one in this city holds more influence than the Sepals. This is a busy time of year, so I'm afraid you'll just have to wait."

"Tell her that Iillia has sent someone to see her."

The man's gaze might have grown slightly more intense at the mention of Iillia's name, but it was difficult to tell on his impassive features.

"I will… pass on your message," the man relented. "Though I cannot assure you that Viresa will respond."

"Great, we'll be waiting here then," Wyn pointed towards a nearby bench overlooking the city.

That definitely seemed to annoy the man, and he set his jaw while glaring at them once more.

Corrin felt off. This result wasn't exactly surprising, so why? He thought about simply pushing past the man, but something told him it was a bad idea.

The man's hand moved within his robes, but Corrin couldn't tell what he was doing through the layers of thick fabric. Why was he wearing them despite the heat?

A voice rang out from behind them, loud and fiery, and the man's hand fell still.

"You see Luscien? The most beautiful building in the city no—oh my what's with that hole? That's not usually there."

Corrin turned to the source of the new voice. Two men crested the top of the path, stepping onto the platform. The first thing Corrin noticed was that both had swords at their hips, quality ones too judging by the hilts and pommels. The older of the two was perhaps in his late twenties, with wild yellow hair that bled to bright red about halfway down, matching the fiery cape hanging from the back of his white coat.

The second man, on the other hand, didn't seem much older than Corrin, perhaps nineteen? He too had blonde hair, though it was a duller hue, and combed straight so that it hung to either side of his slender face. He wore no cape or coat, but instead just a plain white undershirt, like he'd taken off the coat he wore over it. The strangest thing of all though, was the orange, two-tailed fox curled up around his neck.

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he inspected the building, not seeming to notice the rest of them.

"Yes, barring that hole you really can tell the quality of the craftsmanship. I'll lament the poor soul that has to keep that stone clean though. In any case, you set the expectations too high once again sir. First it was the tree and now this. Please stop speaking in such absurd hyperbole. It's not the 'most beautiful building I've ever seen'".

"Did I really say that?"

The boy let out a sigh as they approached, and the older man, who Corrin was thinking of as 'Red Cape' let the subject drop, finally facing the rest of them with a casual smile.

"Good afternoon," he greeted, walking past.

The robed man took a large step, blocking the entrance as he faced the new challenger. "I'm afraid the Ecclestarion is closed for repairs and renovations! I must request you come back another time."

"Ah, well it does need it no doubt. Whatever did cause that hole there?"

The robed man's eyes flicked upwards. "Damage from a storm."

"Must have been some tempest! Though, they do get quite ferocious in the basin don't they?" Red Cape clapped a hand onto the robed man's shoulder and laughed good-naturedly.

"Yes… They do." Robe man ground his teeth, which Corrin found hilarious now that they weren't the problem. "So with that said, you'll have to wait."

"Hmm, I'm afraid I can't do that. I have urgent business with Sepal Viresa. I already tried Sadof's house, but he doesn't seem to be in, so I came here instead."

"Sepal Viresa is busy at the moment," the man growled.

"It really stings to be ignored by them like this. I know I'm a day late, but still!"

The boy in glasses grumbled. "Only because you insisted we help that rockbear cub."

Red Cape turned on the younger man, clicking his tongue. "Of course! A worthy use of time indeed! Such a heartwarming reunion with his mother wouldn't you say?"

"Sir," Robe man's voice was shrill. "I must insist you leave."

"I'm afraid I answer to no authority besides the Sepal's while on this mission." Red Cape's reply was abrupt. "Ah, though I suppose I did forget to introduce myself. Where are my manners?"

He bowed once, then shot back up straight. "Erydnor Kaelburn! Second class spirit knight on assignment from Taravast!"

Spirit knight?

Corrin immediately stepped between him and Kei, his shoulder bumping against Wyn's as his hand went to his waist where his sword was waiting. The boy in glasses glanced their way, seeming to note their apprehension, but didn't move in response at all.

Another spirit knight? Corrin reevaluated the two of them in an instant. Their relaxed yet confident postures, the fine clothes and swords. They were from Taravast? And second class? Tor had only been third class, were they stronger than he was? No, the younger boy didn't radiate the same power as this 'Eryndor', maybe he was an apprentice or squire of some kind?

Robe man stiffened as Corrin's thoughts raced, his face morphing from annoyance to concern in an instant.

"Ah… I see. I wasn't made aware that you were coming. Please forgive me Sir Kaelburn…" Robe man bowed low.

"There is nothing to forgive! And please raise your head. I would be dishonored to demand deference from my elders."

Slowly, the man raised his head, face flashing to anger for just a moment before settling back into its resting displeasure. "While I apologize for misunderstanding the situation, I do regret to inform you that Sepal Viresa is actually away at the moment. I'm unsure of her exact location, but I would be happy to relay your arrival to her when she returns."

"Hey, you told us she was just busy!" Corrin protested. "You weren't going to tell her about us at all were you?"

The man didn't respond, focused entirely on the spirit knight in front of him, waiting to see how he would respond.

Eryndor smiled brightly. "A shame, I expected her to be here! Though knowing her, it may be for the best!" He laughed at what might have been a joke. "I would greatly appreciate you informing her, or any other Sepal if you happen across them. Tell her I'll be waiting at my family's home. She will know where to go."

"Of course sir." Robe man forced a smile in kind. "I'll be sure to inform her as soon as she returns."

Eryndor clapped his hands together. "Wonderful! With that settled, let's be off young Genevisc. The view on the way down is even better!"

"It's the same view…" the boy said dryly as they promptly walked back towards the path.

Corrin pointed at the robed man accusingly. "You'd better deliver our message too, you lying bastard." As the man grumbled and stormed back into the Ecclesterion, Corrin turned to chase down the spirit knight—a chance like this he couldn't let slip!

His foot stopped itself, and he twisted back to look at Kei, her hazel eyes wide. Images of Tor flashed through his mind, words spoken he wouldn't unhear. Wyn grimaced as well, watching their backs as they slowly walked away.

This is an opportunity for Wyn too, Corrin realized. Even if the message isn't passed on, this spirit knight apparently knows the Sepals. If he can just get an introduction…

And yet, they both hesitated, even if only for a moment.

Damn it! Screw you Tor!

Corrin heard an exasperated sigh. Suddenly Kei was brushing past him, quickly walking to catch up with the two from Taravast. She shot back a look at the two of them, a face of disbelief and disappointment. Corrin got the message.

What are you two? Stupid?

"Excuse me, my lord?" she called out as she caught up to the two of them.

Corrin flinched as she spoke the honorific. It harkened back to the start of their own friendship, and he hadn't liked it then either. But that was then, and Kei was different now, he knew that. So if she was using it here—

The spirit knight turned, greeting her with a smile. One look at his face, and Corrin felt a great sense of relief.

"Please, there's no need for the honorific. Simply think of me as your elder and address me as such. How may I be of service?"

"My name is Kei Ameas, second heir to the Ameas trading company in Taravast. I was hoping you could spare my friends just a moment of your time."

"I'm afraid economics aren't a personal interest, young miss Ameas, so I can't say I recognize your name, "the knight apologized. "But I would be more than happy to help you! I admit I was curious as to what prompted such a defensive reaction. It would be saddening to learn I have enemies so young as you."

So he did notice.

"Oh no no, nothing of the sort!" Kei waved her hands in front of her. "They were merely defensive of me! We've had unpleasant experiences with spirit knights in the past you see…"

Eryndor frowned before his eyes dawned with understanding. "Ah yes, on account of—well suffice it to say I understand. It's an unfortunately common sentiment amidst the military. Fear not though! Aeorans have tried to kill me far more than anyone else!" He laughed again, boisterously, as the younger boy pressed his face into his hands.

Corrin relaxed a good bit, walking over and bowing to greet the knight.

"My name is Corrin of Straetum! I'm aiming to enroll in the swordcraft academy in Taravast and become a spirit knight!"

Wyn followed suit. "Wyn of Straetum. The same."

Eryndor clapped a hand on each of their shoulders. His grip was firm! And his hands were… hot?

"Haha! Fine dreams indeed! Hold your head high young Corrin, young Wyn! Your friend intervening on your behalf gives me an understanding of your characters already! It is good to see fire burning so bright in youth!"

Corrin blushed, the spirit knight having trampled over his apprehensions. "Um… thank you sir."

"So I take it, you're looking for advice then? Be bold! Be courageous! Burn like the sun itself!" He pumped his fist in the air.

Wyn recovered first. "Any advice you're willing to give would be greatly appreciated sir, but we also have another reason for approaching you. See, we're attempting to get in contact with one of the sepals."

"Oh? And you obviously overheard my discussion with that fine gentleman back there. Might I ask why you wish to speak with them?"

"I—" Wyn grimaced. "We are hoping to get into contact with Haoma, the great spirit of the tree. I'm afraid I can't say anything other than that."

"I see." The knight said, touching his finger to his lips as his face became serious once more. His eyes burned into them, and Corrin fought not to turn away from the intense gaze.

The boy with glasses seemed suddenly interested as well, peering at them out of the corner of his eyes—though it was much harder for him to be intimidating while scratching behind his yawning fox's ears.

Then, Eryndor brightened, clapping his hands together once more. "Interesting! Fascinating indeed!" He spun around, cape fluttering from the speed of the movement, and then began marching down the pathway. "Tell me your story as we walk! It's quite a way to my estate, so I will make up my mind by the time we arrive!"

Glasses boy sighed once more, following a moment later.

Corrin took a step, stumbled, and then sped up after the spirit knight's back, Wyn falling in beside him.

Kei grumbled something about her feet hurting, but she followed just the same.

An inferno had arrived in Liresil. And its flames were discontent to burn alone. A blaze grows, consuming all it touches, until those things become flame as well.

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