— Shadowwing's Secret

【SYSTEM NOTICE】

【Trial Code: The Nest of Echoes | Submodule Two: Beneath the Old Tree】

Winter came early in Mistvale.

The wind stirred through the mist, carrying a faint, low caw—almost too distant to hear.

Ellie froze, the sound rippling through her like a memory she couldn't quite place.

She stepped forward. Dark feathers drifted in the mist, dissolving as they touched the roots of the old tree.

And then—she saw her.

Seven-year-old LuLu sat curled beneath the old tree behind the village, knees tucked tight beneath her chin, motionless.

Fallen leaves drifted down like silent rain. They layered the ground around her, as if nature itself were performing a quiet burial on her behalf.

Grandma was gone.

The woman who always stood by the stove, whose hands were rough but kind, whose bedtime stories often trailed off as she drifted to sleep—had left forever last week.

Before she passed, Grandma pressed a violet jade pendant into LuLu's palm. Her fingers were cold as stone, but gripped hers with surprising strength.

"Remember this, LuLu..." Her voice was faint, flickering. "This has been passed down through generations... We are descendants of the Meta Fold tribe."

"Meta Fold... what is that?" LuLu whispered.

"A place beyond even dreams. You don't need to understand now."

"But it'll watch over you. When you feel alone, hold it tight."

"Wear it. Don't be afraid."

Those were the last words she heard.

Then, Grandma closed her eyes.

---

The day Grandma died, LuLu wore a coat far too big for her, hunched on a bench in the hospital hallway like a small, lost creature.

Her eyes were swollen.

Her fingers clutched the purple pendant like it was a promise about to slip away.

She waited for her father to appear at the end of the corridor.

He finally came—just before dusk.

His steps were rushed, brow furrowed.

He entered the room, glanced once at the covered body on the bed, and said nothing.

LuLu thought he might kneel down, hold her close, say something like:

"Don't be scared. Daddy's here."

But he didn't.

The next day was Grandma's funeral.

LuLu wore an oversized padded jacket and stood at the edge of the courtyard wall, craning her neck to watch.

Her father was at the village gate, talking to relatives, answering phone calls in between, muttering:

"Running out of time... still got things in the city... the little one's waiting at home..."

LuLu stood quietly in a corner, her shoes crunching on bits of frozen snow.

Her toes were numb from the cold.

She didn't cry. She couldn't anymore.

After the ceremony, her father got ready to leave.

With his bag slung over his shoulder, he muttered quickly,

"Listen to your aunties. Don't wander around."

Before she could say anything, he had already turned away and climbed into the car.

Within seconds, his figure was gone—swallowed by the fog, just like her hopes.

She finally understood.

He never planned to take her with him.

And as for her mother—she didn't even show up.

She overheard the neighbor aunties chatting as they washed clothes by the river:

"She stayed in the city to look after the boy. He's only two."

"Ah... poor LuLu. Such a hard life."

"Girls don't matter. Once you have a son, who cares about daughters?"

"Left-behind kids like her... it's just pitiful."

Outside the window, children were laughing in the courtyard:

"She's the kid nobody wants!"

"Her parents had a baby boy. They don't want her anymore!"

"Haha! Nobody wants her! Nobody!"

Those voices pierced through her like needles—sharp, cold, relentless.

LuLu crouched in the corner, arms wrapped around her head, wishing she could sink into the earth, like when she was little.

She didn't even know when this "little brother" was born—no one thought she needed to.

She didn't understand what useless meant.

Or why daughter had become a word laced with blame.

She only knew—her mother hadn't come home in years.

Turns out, she wasn't forgotten.

She was replaced.

---

On the other side of the mountain, there stood an old tree.

It was tall and bent, its trunk curved like an elder who would never leave—stretching out a silent, steady arm.

No one remembered when it first began growing there—just as no one remembered when LuLu started calling it her friend.

But LuLu remembered.

It was one of those dusks when no one answered her voice.

She walked up to it, tilted her head, and asked:

"Are you waiting for someone too?"

The tree didn't speak.

Its branches merely swayed gently in the wind—as if nodding.

From that day on, she came to see it every day.

She gave it a name: The Talking Tree.

Even though it never spoke, it listened.

She sat at its roots, buried her face in her knees, and whispered:

"Grandma's gone. Now it's just you and me."

"Was it something I did... is that why Mommy and Daddy don't want me?"

"Will you... one day leave me too?"

A flock of birds landed among the branches.

Some hopped about; others tilted their heads to watch her—as if truly listening.

She began to tell them stories, sang songs, and named each bird—DotDot, Little Moon, Loopie—her tiny audience listening in silent understanding.

She practiced sounds, recited poems, and imagined them understanding every word.

---

One night, she had a dream.

The sky was clear as glass.

Birds soared around her, forming her name—L-U-L-U—letter by letter, shining and swirling in the air.

They danced, they sang—as if replying to the ache in her heart.

But one bird didn't belong.

A black bird.

It circled high, alone, its edges blurred like spilled ink.

It never came close.

She waved, called its name—nothing.

When she woke, she painted it with Grandma's watercolor pen.

Black feathers. A lonely shape. Eyes that never answered.

She called it Shadowwing.

She tried to speak with Shadowwing over the following days.

Sang, waved, shared memories of fear and fireworks, yet it never approached—just circled, distant, a silent guardian of a secret she could not name.

One evening, she asked,

"Do you know what I've forgotten?"

Shadowwing paused, then vanished into the clouds.

No answer. No approach.

---

This memory unfolded before Ellie.

Beneath the Talking Tree, she watched LuLu, softly singing to the branches.

The black bird hovered above—no longer just a bird, but a shadow crystallized from her childhood fear.

It whispered the truth she had long avoided:

"You are not worthy of love."

She knelt beside LuLu, placing her hand on the girl's shoulder.

LuLu did not flinch.

The small heartbeat beneath her palm burned steadily—the ember that had survived every absence and rejection.

---

【SYSTEM NOTICE】Echo resonance detected…

Emotional residue: Critical

Family identity structure: Scanning...

From the rooftop, Trial Cat watched in silence.

"You were never unloved—They just didn't know how to love you."

"The true pain isn't being left behind… It's gripping a longing never returned."

Ellie gripped the pendant at her chest.

She remembered Grandma's words: "Wear it. Don't be afraid."

She remembered the old tree, the birds, and her younger self.

Forgiveness wasn't for them—it was for the part of her that kept hating herself.

The pendant pulsed, heart-like, glowing softly.

---

The black bird dove down, landing at her feet.

No longer a shadow.

No longer a sentence.

Just a part of herself—returned.

Feathers dissolved into light, melting into the pendant.

Above, a new Heartscape shimmered.

The first gate reappeared, open once more.

She raised the pendant, heart steady.

"Let's go."

The Talking Tree swayed gently in the wind—silent farewell.

Leaves lay quiet.

Somewhere ahead, Shadowwing waited, its shadow stretching into the unknown.