The Elements of Zion: The Vine, The Branch, and The Thorn

Chapter 21

The wind rustled through the trees, their leaves murmuring like a symphony. The lower realm had forced me to confront a past I once believed incurable.

"Ye've fought well," Trose said, his voice breaking the solemn quiet of the lower realm. "But it's time we return to Zion."

I tightened my grip on my armor, the weight of it grounding me. "I don't know if I'm ready," I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.Dove stepped closer, his silver feathers glinting in the light. "Your courage has grown with each trial," he said, his voice as soft as the wind. "You've faced your fears and emerged stronger."

I glanced at Trose, who stood quietly nearby, his wings folded, his gaze steady. "But what happens when you're not there to guide me?" My voice cracked slightly, betraying the weight of the moment.

Dove tilted his head, his piercing black eyes meeting mine. "Speak my name," he said, his talons brushing gently over a shard of broken memory at his feet. "Heed the wind's call. You'll find me in its voice, guiding you forward."

Trose placed a taloned hand on my shoulder, gripping it with both strength and tenderness. "We'll always be with ye, Isaac, in one way or another."

I nodded, feeling both grateful and saddened by the prospect of leaving them behind. As we prepared to depart, a faint breeze ruffled my hair, and I couldn't help but smile as I heard the echo of Dove's words in the wind. I turned to say farewell but, The Ceaseless Wind had vanished.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow upon the landscape as shadows danced among the city-scape. I stood with Trose, feeling the weight of our parting from Dove bearing down on me like an anchor. Before I could dwell on that pain, however, two magnificent griffins descended from the heavens. Their wings spread wide, and their golden feathers reflected the dying sunlight, casting an ethereal radiance around them.

"Ye remember Lift and Gatekeeper, don't ye?" said Trose.

I nodded.

"Ah, Isaac, Trose," Lift rumbled, his voice like distant thunder. "The rising platform to the realms cannot be used for now. We shall escort you back to Zion."

Trose adjusted his stance, the feathers of his wings catching the golden light. "Well, lad, are ye ready?" he asked, his tone equal parts challenge and reassurance.
I took a slow, deliberate breath, the crisp air filling my lungs. "Ready as I'll ever be," I said, my voice steadier than I expected.
Lift lowered himself gracefully, his massive golden wings folding as he crouched to the ground. The softness of his feathers surprised me as I gripped them, hoisting myself onto his back. Trose mounted Gatekeeper with practiced ease, his talons gripping the griffin's shoulders like a captain ready to command.

"Alright, lads," Trose called out, his voice steady and strong. "To Zion!"

As if responding to some unseen signal, Lift and Gatekeeper launched themselves skyward, powerful wings beating in unison. My heart raced as we climbed higher, the ground shrinking until it disappeared into a sea of clouds. The lower realm faded below as we soared toward Zion.

"Remember, Isaac," Trose shouted over the howling wind, "this journey has changed ye! Ye've grown stronger, braver, and more resilient."

His words echoed in my mind, bringing forth memories of our arduous adventures together. I couldn't help but wonder how much of that change would remain with me when we returned to Zion. "You too!" I shouted back, my voice snatched away by the wind. "This ain't the end, you hear? I'll never forget this."

"Nor will I, boyo!"

Zion spread out beneath us, its golden streets and glowing spires a testament to divine craftsmanship. At the city's heart, the great tree rose toward the heavens, cradling the stars in its branches. Below, The Vine's throne radiated awe, carved from shimmering cyrstal.