Chapter Fourteen: Baptism and Transformation

Tension gripped their minds and exhaustion weighed on their bodies—such was the state of everyone present. Hours spent standing or sitting motionless in utter darkness, ever fearful of the unexpected, had left each soul utterly drained. And among them were many elderly, suffering all the more.

Yet this condition eased, if only somewhat, when a strange floral fragrance wafted through the air. The moment Anderson caught the scent, he felt the taut strings of his nerves inexplicably relax, his anxiety replaced by a profound sense of calm. Even the ache in his back and the numbness in his legs, brought on by standing for hours, seemed to vanish entirely. When he looked again at the transformed oak, all his earlier unease was gone, leaving only a sense of comfort and clarity.

The feeling was almost impossible to put into words, but Anderson knew he had never before experienced such peace. Unconsciously, he pulled out his phone and pointed it toward the distant oak. Given the distance and the limits of the naked eye, only by zooming in with his phone’s camera could he clearly observe the changes unfolding in the tree.

On the phone’s screen, Anderson saw a bud of glassy blue. The bud swelled, growing to the size of a basin, then slowly unfurled its crystalline petals. The petals glimmered with a faint phosphorescence, misty and cloud-like. From within the blossom drifted countless slender, filamentous stamens, swaying gently and scattering tiny, glowing motes into the air. These motes lifted away from the stamens, floated skyward, and gradually faded from view, as if they had simply melted into the ether. But Anderson understood that this peculiar pollen had not vanished; instead, it drifted invisibly on the breeze, scattering throughout the rainforest. The tranquil floral scent that now filled his senses came from this very phenomenon.

Upon closer inspection, the massive oak had six thick limbs, radiating outward yet clustering close to the trunk. Dense foliage joined together, forming a green canopy fit for a king. The strange new oak blossoms were scattered thickly among the leaves, and in the mellow light of dusk, they shimmered and refracted, sending ripples of watery brilliance across the crown. Jewel flowers, Anderson thought instinctively—such was the name that best described these extraordinary oak blossoms.

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The entire transformation of the oak lasted no more than three minutes, yet in those fleeting moments, everyone present witnessed what could only be described as a miracle. With the scent of that peculiar fragrance permeating the rainforest, no stray thoughts could arise in anyone’s heart. The frustrations of work, the tension from witnessing the oak’s transformation, even any lingering worries about what might come next—all these vanished utterly.

Now, not a single soul doubted that this tree was anything born of the purple moon’s contamination. Everything about it was simply too sacred, too reassuring. “Perhaps we have truly underestimated the value and meaning of this holy tree—it should not be disturbed,” someone murmured. “This is a sanctuary, and must remain a sanctuary,” Mallory said quietly, gazing at the oak crowned with jewel flowers.

“No, it should be known to many more, and praised by the world. Its appearance will change everything,” said Reed, who had always been steadfast in his disbelief, yet now spoke with the calm of a devout believer for the first time. It was not that Reed’s mind had been turned upside down, but that, having witnessed the oak’s wonders and been uplifted by its fragrance, he could no longer feel any suspicion or resistance toward it. In the face of the unknown, in the presence of miracles, and with his soul so cleansed, he found himself awed by the mysterious.

“Yes, but the politicians will hardly see it that way,” someone sighed with a complicated expression.

Just then, a butterfly rose from the rainforest canopy above their heads, followed by another, and then another. Soon, countless butterflies appeared, all winging their way toward the oak. And it wasn’t just butterflies—hummingbirds and even birds that did not feed on nectar or pollen joined the gathering. Watching the sky fill with life and color, Fanny Campbell felt a joy she hadn’t known in years.

“It’s for this very reason that I believe we must unite with all who would stand with us to protect it,” she said. “Though it may not need our protection, given its own power, we can at least do what we believe to be right.”

All worldly concerns had faded from their hearts, their spirits uplifted by an unprecedented sense of renewal. Money and status seemed meaningless now, gazing upon the oak. Here, the tree was like a kingdom of the divine on earth, and they, its most devout pilgrims. It was a peace and an understanding that sprang from the soul itself.

Those untouched by the fragrance of the blossoms could never comprehend what they now felt—the sweetness in the very air, the complete ease and wellbeing that swept through their bodies, the way all pain and fatigue simply melted away.

“Indeed,” someone agreed. “But perhaps there is one more thing we must do now—approach the tree, observe it closely, and pay our respects.” The suggestion was met with smiles and eager assent.

“Would you do us the honor of leading the way, Mr. Simon?” Reed asked, looking at Simon with a respect and warmth he had never shown before.

Simon was taken aback. Though he too felt a newfound peace and devotion, he was surprised by the transformation in those around him. Nevertheless, everything was moving in a positive direction, and Simon was glad to see it. With these people’s help, his people would not have to defend the sacred tree alone. And to protect it, he would need the support of these outsiders, endowed as they were with status and influence.

Yet on reflection, even without their aid, Simon felt confident that his people could protect the sacred tree. Its fragrance cleansed the soul so profoundly that anyone who experienced it would find it unforgettable. The tree was surely sentient, able to sense ill intent, and with its demonstrated power, Simon felt there was little to fear.

His pessimism vanished, replaced by genuine delight. Looking at Reed and the other once-skeptical outsiders, Simon’s face broke into a broad smile. “Your enthusiasm is truly moving,” he said. “In that case, allow me to invite you all to enter the sanctuary with me.”

Without the arrogance of a zealot, Simon spoke with a gentle smile, then directed some of his tribe’s armed members to help the guests with their belongings. And so, in an atmosphere of harmony, the group set off on foot, following a narrow, shadowed path into the dense and mysterious jungle.