Chương 62: Chapter 52 – Blood and Lightning

Cade sat with his back against the dirt floor of the Great Tree's hollow, staring up at the ceiling far above. Pearl hadn't moved. She remained pressed against one of the great root-pillars with her eyes closed. If she was worried, she didn't show it. Cade, on the other hand, was worried. His legs jittered and his fingers twitched. Sitting still this long made him feel like something was crawling under his skin. He couldn't just wait here while the Great Tree stayed dormant.

Pearl was locked out of her trial and all he could do was—what? Sit? Meditate? Hope the lightning decided to come back? No thanks. He pushed himself to his feet with a quiet grunt, stretching his arms overhead. His muscles felt different now. They were tightly packed with power that didn't feel like it had a ceiling. He was still getting used to his newly reforged body. He took a few steps, then broke into a jog around the perimeter of the hollow.

The space was big enough to stretch his legs, and as he moved, he felt the low hum of energy singing through his limbs. He came to a stop beneath the ceiling's curve and looked up. The tunnel leading to the Stormsap Crucible was carved right beside the massive stalactite—the stormroot, as Pearl called it. The wooden rungs embedded into the trunk were far out of reach. Cade bent his knees and leapt, just to see how close he could get.

His feet left the ground—and for a split second, he thought he might actually reach it. But gravity reminded him he wasn't a superhero. He soared halfway up the height of the hollow before falling back down with a heavy thud. He rubbed his neck and stared upward, squinting.

"Okay," he muttered.

"Not quite there yet." Cade closed his eyes and turned inward. Since reforging his body, he could feel the flow of energy within him. It moved through him like blood, only deeper. Denser. He focused on his legs. On the muscles coiled within them. With a steady breath, he willed the energy in his body to slow. He pictured it gathering behind his knees, in his calves, in the thick cords of muscle around his thighs. Instead of letting it flow freely, he concentrated it. Compressed it. Pressure built immediately.

His legs twitched as if he were flexing every muscle at once. A tight burn spread through his limbs. He swallowed. It didn't feel dangerous… not exactly. But there was strain.

"Alright," he whispered.

"Let's see what happens." He crouched, tightened his focus, and launched upward. The release was instant. The compressed energy in his legs exploded outward and sent him rocketing into the air. His stomach dropped. The ceiling rushed toward him faster than expected.

"Oh sh—" His head slammed into the curved bark with a thud before he plummeted back to the floor. He landed hard, face down, but between his reforged body and his Toughness, the impact didn't hurt too badly. He rolled over and groaned.

"Okay… so maybe dial it back a little." Once the ringing in his ears stopped, he stood up again, shook himself out, and eyed the rungs above. He could do this. He just had to use less energy and control it better. Cade crouched again, gathering the flow into his legs, but this time he stopped well before the pressure became painful. When it felt like a low simmer instead of an overcharged engine, he pushed off. This jump was smoother, more controlled. And it was enough to reach the rungs up above.

He reached out, caught the nearest rung, and hauled himself upward with a grin tugging at the edge of his mouth.

"I knew it." He climbed, hand over hand, toward the crucible above. The wooden rungs creaked beneath his grip, but held firm as he pulled himself upward through the heart of the Great Tree. The further he climbed, the darker it became. No amber glow greeted him from above. No faint glimmer of sap dripping down from the ceiling of the crucible's chamber. The tunnel that once pulsed with soft amber light was now pitch black. After a few moments, he pulled himself into the chamber of the Stormsap Crucible.

Complete darkness. Cade held still, letting his senses adjust. The smell of scorched wood still lingered, but there was no warmth or hum of power. The crucible chamber was dead silent. He could feel the shape of the room—the walls curving gently inward, the faint brush of smooth bark against his skin—but the radiant energy from before was gone. Before, the sap dripping from above had illuminated the room enough to see.

It would fall from the ceiling, drop into the wooden bowl atop the crucible, and trigger the lightning channels to come alive. But now… nothing. Just complete and utter darkness.

"Great," he muttered.

"Did I break it?" He knelt beside the crucible, feeling along the wooden frame. The bolt-shaped growth still jutted from the ground, its bowl at the top cool and empty. Free from any sticky residue. He sat back on his heels, frowning. When he purged the corruption from the crucible's base, had he somehow disabled it entirely? The violet script was gone. The unnatural influence wiped clean. That should've been a good thing. But without the sap to fuel it, the crucible had nothing to work with. His stomach twisted.

If the crucible remained inert, then the Great Tree wouldn't produce lightning. And if there was no lightning then Pearl couldn't complete her trial. He leaned against the chamber wall, mind racing. Was the sap irreplaceable? Was there another source of energy that could trigger the crucible's channels? He stared blindly into the dark for a long moment—then the thought struck. Sap was a tree's blood, right? And his blood had been reforged by the crucible. What if… Cade straightened.

He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it sooner. If the crucible had helped shape him—rebuilt him from the inside out using the elemental forces woven by the Tree—then maybe his blood carried traces of that energy. Maybe it could act as a substitute. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Not perfect. But maybe close enough. He turned back toward the tunnel and began his descent. When he reached the opening, he dropped smoothly to the floor below.

Pearl was still seated in meditation, unmoving. Cade jogged over and crouched in front of her.

"Hey. Sorry to interrupt your inner peace or whatever," he said, shaking her shoulder gently. Her eyes snapped open, the focused calm in them breaking as she blinked up at him in confusion.

"What—?"

"I need to borrow your spear," Cade said, nodding to the weapon beside her. Pearl glanced down, then back at him with a puzzled expression.

"Why?"

"I have a hunch," he said.

"A theory that might help jumpstart the Great Tree again." She hesitated.

"What are you going to do?" Cade flashed a grin.

"You'll see. Just trust me." There was a long moment of silence. Then, with a sigh that sounded both wary and resigned, Pearl handed over her spear. He took it with a grateful nod.

"Thanks. If this works, get ready. Lightning's coming." He turned, walked back to the edge of the pool, crouched low, and launched himself back toward the tunnel. One hand on the spear, one hand catching the rungs, he climbed with steady speed, pulling himself back toward the crucible chamber. It was slower this time, awkward with only one hand to grip and balance, but he managed it. He knelt once more in the pitch black chamber beside the crucible, drew in a breath, and pressed the spearhead to his palm. Nothing.

He frowned and pushed harder. The weapon didn't even leave a scratch. His skin flexed but didn't yield.

"Come on…" He gritted his teeth and pressed again, this time channeling his will into the spearpoint—imagining it as a needle, sharp and focused. His arm trembled from the effort. Just when he thought it still wouldn't work— A faint sting. Then warmth. He exhaled in relief as he felt a small trickle of blood well up in his palm.

"Gotcha." Cade turned his bleeding palm downward and held it over the wooden bowl at the top of the Stormsap Crucible.

"Alright," he murmured to the dark.

"Let's see if this works." Sap was a tree's blood. That much felt obvious now that he thought about it. And his own blood—every drop of it—had been reforged here. Tempered by lightning. Shaped by the same channels that once carried the Great Tree's sap. If anything could substitute for it, it was his blood. A single drop fell. It struck the bowl with a soft, wet plop. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then faint red lines flickered to life beneath the bowl.

Cade's breath caught as the familiar channels along the crucible's surface began to glow. Nowhere near as brilliant as when the amber sap had fed it but unmistakably active. The red pathways pulsed weakly, drawing the energy from his blood downward.

"It's working," he whispered. The glow crept along the crucible's body, following the carved channels with deliberate precision. When the energy reached the base, Cade leaned forward, straining to see what happened next. No jagged violet script ignited. Instead, the energy flowed smoothly into the restored foundation. The channels there shimmered and shifted, transmuting the blood's raw vitality as they were meant to. Red softened into orange. Orange splintered into yellow. Green threaded through them, then blue.

A muted rainbow bloomed briefly beneath the surface—distinct colors, intertwined and harmonious. And then it faded. The glow dimmed. The channels went dark. The chamber fell silent once more. Cade sagged back on his heels and let out a slow breath. He listened, hoping for the distant crack of thunder from below. Nothing.

"Well," he said after a moment, wiping blood from his palm on his thigh.

"That's disappointing." It had worked. Just not enough. The crucible had accepted his blood. It had processed it the same way it once processed the tree's sap. The only problem was density. The Great Tree's sap was surely saturated with whatever energy fueled the crucible, produced continuously by something far older and larger than him. A drop of human blood wasn't going to cut it. Cade glanced down at his palm, where the cut had already begun to close. He flexed his fingers then squeezed his hand hard.

The wound reopened. Blood flowed more freely this time, warm and slick. He cupped his hands together, letting it pool there. The feeling made his stomach churn a little—old instincts screaming that this was a bad idea—but he ignored them. He waited until his hands were nearly full. Then he tipped them and his blood splashed into the bowl all at once. The reaction was immediate. The red channels flared bright—almost as bright as they had when the sap was flowing.

Energy surged downward in a rushing wave, the crucible humming softly as it cycled through its stages. Cade watched, heart pounding, as the rainbow glow returned at the base—stronger now, steadier. A second passed. Then— Thunder cracked. The sound echoed upward through the tree, deep and resonant. Cade laughed out loud, a sharp bark of triumph.

"Yes!" The crucible vibrated faintly beneath his hand as the energy completed its circuit. Lightning had returned. Cade leaned back against the wall, breathing hard, blood still dripping from his hands, and grinned into the darkness.

"All right, Pearl," he muttered.

"Your turn."

Pearl sat with her back straight against one of the Great Tree's thick root-pillars, legs crossed, palms resting lightly on her knees. Her breathing was slow and measured, but her thoughts refused to still. She had entered this part of her trial expecting to call down the storm. But the storm was silent. For the first time in history—at least, in any of the songs passed down among the Stormcallers—the stormroot had ceased to produce lightning. And without lightning, there could be no Stormcalling.

Pearl had tried to remain calm, to trust the Great Tree's rhythm would return. But as the time slipped past, doubt crept in. She had passed the maze of the Mistcallers. She had reached the base of the Great Tree. And yet now, all she could do was wait. She tried to center herself. Then something shook her. She blinked rapidly, breath catching in surprise as she opened her eyes. Cade stood in front of her, crouched slightly and grinning like an idiot.

"Hey. Sorry to interrupt your inner peace or whatever," he said, shaking her shoulder gently. Her eyes snapped open, the focused calm in them breaking as she blinked up at him in confusion.

"What—?"

"I need to borrow your spear," Cade said, nodding to the weapon beside her. Pearl glanced down, then back at him with a puzzled expression.

"Why?"

"I have a hunch," he said.

"A theory that might help jumpstart the Great Tree again." She hesitated.

"What are you going to do?" Cade flashed a grin.

"You'll see. Just trust me." Something about the way he said it… something in his eyes. She'd seen this look before. After a brief hesitation, she passed him the spear. He took it with a grateful nod.

"Thanks. If this works, get ready. Lightning's coming." And then, before she could respond, he turned and ran toward the pool at the hollow's center. She watched, puzzled, as he crouched low—and then jumped. Pearl's eyes widened as Cade launched himself up—higher than she thought possible for someone without a Core. He rose and disappeared into a vertical tunnel in the ceiling she hadn't even realized was there. So that's where he came from, she thought in wonder.

She settled back against the root-pillar, gaze still fixed on the ceiling. Moments passed. Then something stirred. The air prickled. A faint tingle brushed against her skin—a whisper of pressure she hadn't felt since entering this hollow. She straightened. Lightning essence. She sat taller, breath caught in her throat. Was it returning? But just as quickly as it had come, the sensation vanished. Her shoulders slumped slightly, hope dimming. Then it came again—stronger. Not just a whisper this time.

A chorus of harmonious lightning singing to her. Pearl gasped as raw lightning essence flooded above the stormroot. The root, once dull and lifeless, began to glow. And then— Light bloomed. Every color of lightning shone through the bark. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue—a swirling kaleidoscope of essence that danced in elegant harmony. She wasn't even ready.

She hadn't made the call yet— A bolt of lightning tore free from the stormroot, crackling through the air and striking the pool of water in a blinding surge of power. Pearl's jaw dropped. He did it. Somehow, Cade had done it. The storm had returned without any hint of corruption. And now she could finish her trial.