Caen made his way to the top of the stairs carefully as he gazed around him. Parthra's soul structure was truly dizzying. The second layer was a vast, dark-walled cavern with two main exits. He moved quickly to the side and sat on the ground, trying to make out a prominent thread cluster in the Tree's soul. The feel and configuration here were utterly unfamiliar.

  This was the first truly irregular soul structure Caen had seen. Everything up till now had borne a general familiarity. But this…

  Caen shook his head. He reached into his own soul and seized his thread cluster for Flora magic. It did not feel rigid in his ethereal grasp, but it wasn't flexible either. The impressions coming from it surprised him even more. It seemed confused, awed, scared, incredulous.

  Caen wasn't entirely sure how to feel about any of this. Here before him was a fortuitous encounter. A treasure trove. If he could safely examine a soul structure more complex than his own, it would certainly help him understand better how Mimicry worked. He'd been working on ways he could improve his ability to read soul structures, and this seemed like it offered him a step in that direction.

  Even if I don't end up getting a fragment, this will be more than rewarding enough.

  Not that he wasn't going to try his best. A large part of him wondered with restrained trepidation why the tree would be helping him in this way. But an equally large part of Caen knew that he needed all the advantages he could get.

  Caen disconnected from the tree to look around him. There were cracks on the black bark that let in soft sunlight. The cracks did not appear artificial, and yet they still seemed elegant. The walls were rough and gnarly with whorled patterns of bioluminescent lights all around. Under other circumstances, he might have found it calming.

  There was moss on parts of the walls; plant tendrils and vines even. No roots could be seen anywhere, which made sense. He was inside an abominably large tree after all.

  Caen walked up to an interesting-looking length of plant life. It was brown, unlike the rest of the tree. Several of the vines here seemed distinct in that way as well. When Caen connected to it, he confirmed that it wasn't a part of the tree.

  The soul structure of the vine presented one prominent cluster, which Caen very quickly determined was Flora magic. He conformed his affinity to it just as quickly, and it felt… very weak.

  Much, much weaker than those of the awakened trees in Odaton. It was still quite a bit better than what he had, though.

  Look at me being spoiled. When did I get so picky?

  Caen took hold of the vine, but it was frail and shorter than he'd first assumed. Mafrolem had mentioned that it was best to use plant life within Parthra as you climbed. According to the man, using plant matter and ropes and such that you'd brought into the Plane yourself would not ‘work’. At least not for those who sought a fragment.

  Caen went about searching for a length of vine that would fit his purposes. He came out of the cavern through one of the exits and onto what seemed like a ridiculously spacious walkway of sorts, jutting out of the tree and made of the same black bark. Over the ledge, he could make out the ground a few dozen feet below. Those children had definitely jumped from a much higher layer than this. He shuddered at that.

  He turned into a spacious nook on the ‘wall’ with a cluster of girthy roots. He reached for one of these and followed it to the edge of the wall. Then he began gently peeling it off, but soon felt something pulling from the other end.

  Confused, Caen craned his neck around the bend to see a young man with delicate features and long black hair. He was swathed in a thick, white, flowing, luxurious shirt that stopped below his knees. Loose, puffy pantaloons of the same color fed into a pair of tall, dark brown leather boots polished to a shine.

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  “Get your hands off my vine this instant, mister,” the man said, frowning at him imperiously.

  “I've been tracking this specific vine for the past two minutes,” Caen said.

  “Two minutes? Two minutes! I've been here for nearly three months!”

  Caen's brow rose. “You're a climber?”

  “Pfft. Not much of one if I'm not doing any climbing. Now, unhand my plant.”

  “It seems we're at an impasse,” Caen said, rummaging through the pouch on his belt with his free hand, while firmly holding onto the vine. “Why don't we flip a coin?”

  “Do I look like a gambler to you?” the man said, gesturing at his attire.

  “Frankly? Yes.”

  “Well… you have a very astute eye then.” He cleared his throat, puffed out his chest, and gestured at himself. “It is your honor to meet Yildriv Leszchaliam Yuod-Anatra-Jenrifi-Fzaaran, the third.”

  “... I'm Caen.”

  Yildriv gave him a sympathetic look. “A fine enough name, if bland. Why don't we partner up to find a vine as passable as this one, and then we'll call it even? As a show of good faith, you can hold on to the vine, for now.”

  It seemed like a reasonable enough offer to Caen. “You’ve been here for longer; where do we start looking?”

  * * *

  They moved to different locations, scanning the walls and ceiling and even the floors for a vine of acceptable-enough quality for Yildriv. He was particularly picky. Not that Caen was one to talk. None of the vines they'd found so far had as decent an affinity in Flora as the one he held in his hand. The vines were alive, and even after being pulled away from the wall, they continued to register to Soul-sense.

  “Three months,” Caen said as they walked along a corridor. “What has that been like?”

  “This place is…” Yildriv paused and glanced at the ceiling as though worried that something, someone, was watching him. “My climb has been miserable. I hired a Flora practician to escort me here. Worst high criyl I’ve ever spent in my life."

  “You're not one yourself? A Flora practician, I mean.”

  Yildriv scoffed. “If only I were so fortunate. I’m an Artificer.”

  Caen did a double-take at the man. Yildriv didn't seem to notice his surprise, however.

  “The charlatan I paid promised me that he'd plied the layers of Parthra extensively in the past. He even had a fragment of his own, which I now understand must have been a dud because I never saw him move it once.”

  “Is that an option?” Caen asked. “Having someone take you through the layers?”

  “Apparently not. The man was utterly useless. He couldn't even use the vines here. Flora mages spend weeks, months even, learning how to control the vines here in Parthra. But he told me he'd done it several times already, and had helped people get fragments of their own.”

  Caen connected to a length of vine on a section of the wall that looked promising. “I take it you aren't here to get a fragment then.” As far as Caen knew, only Flora practicians could ascend to the fifteenth layer.

  “No. But Parthra remains one of the foremost sources of unusually resilient and magically reinforced wood.”

  “Makes sense,” Caen said as he picked up the new vine. It had a similar enough affinity to the vine he and Yildriv had argued over. “This one works for me.”

  “Are you sure? We can keep looking.”

  “I’m sure,” Caen said, handing the other vine to Yildriv.

  “I suppose this is farewell then. Good luck on your climb, Caen.”

  “And you as well, Yildriv Leszchaliam Yuod-Anatra-Jenrifi-Fzaaran, the third.”

  The man flashed him a smile and turned sharply in the other direction, his black hair whipping behind him.

  Caen made his way back to the smaller nook he'd passed earlier that opened onto a ledge outside.

  He peered down from the side at the long drop to the bottom, which he'd known of course.

  Mafrolem had mentioned that it was impossible to climb onto higher layers without first impressing the tree. Caen intended to test that out for himself. If there was a quicker way to ascend to the fifteenth layer, Caen was going to take it.