The river narrowed as Yukinae followed it into Runa X.
Cold water rushed beside the pathway in restless silver currents while evening wind rolled through the valley hard enough to bend the tall grain fields into slow-moving waves beneath the darkening sky. Mud dragged heavily against her boots after hours of walking, each step pulling harder than the last against legs already strained beyond exhaustion.
Mira's weight shifted weakly against her back.
Yukinae tightened her hold immediately.
"Stay with me," she whispered softly, breath uneven from the climb.
No answer came.
Only the shallow rise and fall of Mira's breathing against her shoulder. Weak enough now that Yukinae kept checking without realizing she was doing it.
The river curved again ahead of them.
And Runa X finally appeared through the mist.
Yukinae slowed without meaning to.
The trees were enormous.
Not beautiful in the soft mythical way old stories described ancient forests. Not mystical either. The scale of them moved beyond beauty into something heavier. Something difficult for the mind to fully measure at first glance.
Their trunks rose through the valley like pillars holding the sky in place, bark thick enough for roads to be carved directly into their sides. Entire terraces had been grown around the roots where farms stretched across layered platforms overflowing with grain, climbing vegetables, moss-fruit vines, and hanging irrigation channels fed directly from the river itself.
Higher up, bridges curved through the canopy between massive branches wide enough to hold homes, storage mills, livestock pens, and entire suspended gardens glowing softly beneath lantern light.
The village did not sit beside the forest.
It existed inside it.
As though generations of people had learned how to survive without ever forcing the trees to move for them.
Yukinae stared upward briefly while cold wind moved through the layered canopy overhead.
It made her feel very small.
Not frightened.
Just temporary.
Her father used to say rivers always led somewhere eventually. Follow them long enough and they would either bring you to people, or the ruins people left behind.
Runa X was alive enough that it almost hurt to look at after the silence of the past few days.
Workers still crossed the lower pathways carrying baskets filled with vegetables and river herbs despite the late hour. Water wheels turned steadily beneath the bridges while lanterns swayed between terraces in soft golden lines. Somewhere higher in the canopy, windmills rotated slowly against the evening sky with long wooden creaks carried through the valley air.
Life continued here.
Steady.
Rhythmic.
Uninterrupted.
And none of it mattered as much as Mira's breathing growing weaker against her back.
Yukinae adjusted her sister carefully and kept moving.
People noticed them eventually.
A dirt-covered girl carrying an unconscious child through the lower paths was difficult to ignore completely. A few conversations lowered as she passed. Older farmers looked briefly toward the dried blood along Yukinae's sleeves before quietly returning to their work.
Nobody stopped her.
Not because they were uncaring.
Because places like this learned long ago that suffering rarely announced itself politely.
One older man resting beside a cart stacked with grain sacks eventually lifted a hand toward the upper terraces.
"Hospital grove's near the central roots," he said.
His voice carried the tired calm of someone who had spent his entire life speaking over rivers and harvest winds.
Yukinae bowed her head slightly in exhausted thanks before continuing uphill.
Her arms burned constantly now.
Not sharply anymore.
Distantly.
Like her body had begun separating pain into categories and quietly deciding which ones deserved attention.
Mira still hadn't woken up.
That remained the only thing that mattered.
The pathways narrowed as they climbed higher into the settlement. Hanging gardens dripped cool water from woven irrigation lines overhead while enormous roots twisted through the village like natural walls older than the homes built around them.
Then Yukinae finally saw the hospital grove.
It stood near the center of Runa X where several giant trees had grown together over centuries into a single towering structure. Pale bark walls curved naturally around open treatment halls while medicinal gardens climbed the outer walkways in layered spirals of green, silver, and pale blue herbs swaying softly in the wind.
Warm light glowed beneath the bark.
Not harsh.
Not artificial.
The kind of light designed to calm frightened people before words ever reached them.
The hospital did not look constructed.
It looked cultivated.
Like the trees themselves had slowly agreed to shelter the sick.
Yukinae pushed through the entrance.
Warm air wrapped around her instantly.
The scent inside hit first. Herbs drying from suspended rafters. Damp roots. Boiling medicines. Rainwater steaming gently over heated stones. Somewhere beneath all of it lingered the sharp metallic smell of blood trying very hard not to become death.
The grove was crowded.
Not chaotic.
Busy in the same way farms became busy during harvest season.
Constant movement.
Constant work.
Healers crossed between patients carrying bowls of glowing water, folded linens, carved medicine stones, and woven trays layered with fresh-cut herbs. The soft murmur of voices blended together beneath the sound of simmering kettles and creaking roots shifting somewhere deep inside the structure itself.
A child coughed weakly nearby.
Someone else was crying deeper in the grove.
Nobody stopped moving.
A woman seated behind the intake table looked up immediately.
The moment her eyes landed on Mira, her expression sharpened.
"What happened?"
Yukinae tried answering, but exhaustion reached her balance first.
Her legs gave slightly beneath her while attendants hurried forward to catch Mira before she slipped from Yukinae's shoulders entirely.
"She collapsed yesterday," Yukinae managed through uneven breathing. "Then again last night. She hasn't woken up since."
The atmosphere around them changed immediately.
Not panic.
Urgency.
Mira was transferred carefully onto a woven treatment bed layered with soft cloth and root padding while another attendant guided Yukinae onto a nearby bench despite her weak protests.
Yukinae barely noticed any of it.
Her attention stayed fixed entirely on Mira.
A healer rested one hand lightly against Mira's forehead while another arranged several pale stones around the bedframe. Thin strands of light stretched carefully between them like glowing roots beneath shallow water.
The older healer frowned slightly.
The light flickered.
Then dimmed unevenly.
"That's strange," one attendant murmured quietly.
Another adjusted the stones.
This time the light spread farther along Mira's arms before stuttering sharply near her chest and collapsing completely.
The room fell briefly silent.
Yukinae stood immediately despite the dizziness that followed.
"What's wrong with her?"
The older healer did not answer straight away.
Not because he was hiding something.
Because he was thinking carefully before speaking.
"She's in a magical coma," he said eventually. "Her spirit pathways are still active, but something keeps interrupting the connection."
Yukinae stared at him blankly.
"Can you fix it?"
The healer hesitated.
And that hesitation frightened her more than anything else so far.
"We can stabilize her condition," he answered carefully. "For now."
Not healed.
Not cured.
Stabilized.
For now.
The words settled heavily into Yukinae's chest.
Another healer approached carrying a bowl filled with softly glowing water. She dipped cloth carefully into it before laying it across Mira's forehead while pale light moved faintly beneath her skin.
"She should be waking during the responses," the younger healer whispered.
"But the pathways collapse again almost immediately."
"Curse damage?" another asked quietly.
"No signs of corruption."
"Possession?"
The older healer shook his head slowly.
"No."
Then after a brief pause:
"At least… not one I recognize."
The room grew quieter after that.
Yukinae understood very little about magical treatment or spirit pathways.
But uncertainty sounded the same in every language.
One of the attendants eventually knelt beside her.
"You need treatment too."
"I'm fine."
The answer came automatically.
The attendant gave her a tired look before gently cleaning one of the cuts along Yukinae's arm anyway.
"You're not."
Now that she had finally stopped moving, the pain had begun returning properly. Bruising darkened her ribs beneath torn clothing while dried blood cracked against swollen hands still aching from carrying Mira for too long without rest.
None of it mattered.
Mira still hadn't opened her eyes.
The older healer eventually returned carrying a thin wooden board carved with treatment marks and payment symbols.
"Sleeping roots. Stabilization herbs. Monitoring cycles." He paused slightly. "This is what we can provide immediately."
Yukinae stared at the markings.
Too many.
Far too many.
"We don't have money."
The healer nodded once, unsurprised.
"There are guild contracts available through the upper district," he said. "Courier routes mostly. Farm deliveries between river settlements. Some transport labor."
Yukinae looked instinctively toward the open windows lining the grove.
Beyond the terraces, several riders crossed the upper pathways on hovering boards crafted from polished wood and woven root fiber. Wind carried them smoothly between branches while supply crates hung secured behind them in balanced nets.
Fast.
Precise.
Always moving.
Couriers.
"You should recover first," the healer continued. "Both of you require rest."
"I can work," Yukinae said immediately.
The healer looked at her injuries.
"You can barely stand."
"I can work."
The second answer came harder.
Because tomorrow would arrive whether she rested or not.
And Mira needed treatment tomorrow too.
The healer studied her quietly for a long moment before finally reaching into his robes and handing her a small wooden marker etched with softly glowing numbers.
"This covers tonight."
Tonight.
Only tonight.
Yukinae closed her fingers carefully around the marker.
Warm wood against cold skin.
Temporary mercy.
The healers eventually convinced her to step outside while they continued Mira's treatment cycles. Yukinae lingered near the doorway anyway, watching the pale light move softly between the carved stones surrounding her sister's bed.
"She's responding again."
"Only briefly."
"Then something pulls her deeper."
The older healer adjusted one of the stones carefully.
"Don't force the connection," he warned quietly. "If the pathways rupture, we may lose her entirely."
Yukinae swallowed hard.
Then stepped back outside before she heard anything worse.
Night had settled fully across Runa X.
Lanterns glowed warmly between the suspended bridges while distant windmills creaked against the dark sky above the terraces. River water shimmered silver beneath the hanging roots and fields of grain shifted softly in the valley wind like entire hills breathing beneath the moonlight.
The village remained calm.
Simple.
Steady.
A place built around growing food, surviving winter, and waking up early enough to do it all again tomorrow.
Yukinae stood beneath the enormous trees and finally allowed herself one full breath.
Mira was alive.
Not safe.
Not healed.
But alive.
That would have to be enough for tonight.
A sudden roar of wind ripped through the upper canopy.
Yukinae looked up instantly.
One of the courier boards burst between the bridges above the terraces moving far too fast, wooden stabilizers rattling violently as the rider leaned hard into a downward turn. The board clipped the edge of a suspended grain pulley crossing the route.
The crack echoed through the valley.
The rider lost control immediately.
People shouted from the lower walkways as the board spun sideways through open air.
Yukinae stepped forward instinctively.
The courier crashed directly into one of the enormous produce nets hanging between the terraces instead of the ground below. The entire net dropped violently beneath the impact before rebounding hard enough to launch vegetables and grain sacks across the surrounding walkways.
A beat of stunned silence passed.
Then the rider groaned loudly from inside the tangled netting.
Alive.
Laughter erupted almost immediately from the upper bridges.
"You still owe us for those cabbages!"
"Told you crosswinds would kill you before winter did!"
The courier weakly lifted one hand in surrender while nearby workers shook their heads with exhausted amusement instead of concern.
Nobody treated it like disaster.
Just another courier learning momentum the painful way.
An older farmer near Yukinae snorted quietly.
"Better the nets than the river."
The damaged board still hovered crookedly nearby, wobbling unevenly against the airflow before slowly stabilizing itself again.
Yukinae watched it carefully.
The balance shifts.
The movement corrections.
The way the rider had leaned with the wind rather than against it.
Fast.
Dangerous.
Necessary.
Above the valley, another courier crossed the night routes carrying lantern-lit crates toward distant settlements hidden somewhere beyond the forests and rivers surrounding Runa X.
Always moving.
Always delivering.
Always needed.
And for the first time since arriving in Runa X—
Yukinae looked toward the sky routes not with fear.
But with intent.