Tree of Tears

Why did The Little Mermaid come to mind among numerous stories?

Haemi thought while looking around.

Crackle, crackle. The sound of the blazing campfire tickles the ears.

The scenery of the submerged forest was very different from the forest scenery I knew.

If obvious, it’s an obvious statement.

It’s generally dark. Below the water’s surface, where light doesn’t enter well, a deep navy darkness had settled.

The soft moonlight penetrates through the undulating waves. Not flashy, but with a pure charm that catches the human eye.

The trees growing here and there emit an amethyst purple color, and the moss carried by rocks emanates a green hue.

As the lights spread, the individually formed light particles come into view more clearly.

There were things that appeared more vivid despite the haziness.

Precarious sceneries that seemed to disappear at the slightest touch—from these, I recalled The Little Mermaid.

The mermaid who gave up everything to come ashore for her love.

She gained legs but lost her voice. She must have known the probability of success was slim.

Though methods of expression are diverse, there’s no means as effective as directly expressing with words.

As the saying goes, “If you don’t say it, they don’t know,” feelings that can’t be conveyed directly rarely reach the other person.

Words that don’t reach accumulate in the heart and gradually fester.

That becomes jealousy, resentment, and eventually despair.

A heart that rots from within.

The wound leaking from the heart would have hurt more than the numbing, painful legs with every step on land.

And the love that eventually couldn’t be fulfilled, the hearts that couldn’t connect, remain as a handful of regret and scatter.

The mermaid disappearing like a soap bubble.

The scenery reflected in that soap bubble simultaneously holds the landscape of the land she walked on and the seascape where she lived her entire life.

What formed within it were memories, and what formed the soap bubble was her heart, which still loved him despite everything.

“And the end.”

A sniffling sound is heard.

When I turned my head, I saw Ari continuously shedding tears.

“It’s so sad.”

“It is sad.”

Crackle, crackle. I inserted a log into the still well-burning campfire.

I cried too when I first heard the story.

“What happened to the prince?”

“Well, I’m not sure about what happened next.”

“Was he happy?”

“Wouldn’t he have been happy?”

In the original work, there was no separate villain.

Neither the neighboring country’s princess nor the witch harmed the mermaid.

The neighboring country’s princess actually treated the mermaid favorably. The witch also gave the mermaid sufficient warning.

The prince misunderstood that the neighboring country’s princess was the one who saved him.

In fact, that couldn’t even be called a misunderstanding.

“It’s true that she was the one who found and rescued the prince collapsed on the sandy shore.”

“But still, somehow…”

What did the mermaid think as she herself became a soap bubble and crumbled?

Did she curse his love? Did she cheer for it?

“It’s similar to the story of our deity.”

“Deity?”

The fog that had settled thickly around gradually begins to thin.

“Oh? It worked! Now I can go back! I can find the way!”

Ari jumps around in joy.

Then she packs her things and urges me.

“Haemi, come with me! Everyone will love the story you told!”

I ran following Ari, who was pulling my wrist.

Ari took a few leaps with her short legs and then flew up.

I ran following Ari, who was flying while flapping her wings.

She holds a glowing leaf like a lamp and moves forward.

Her flying speed was quite fast, making it difficult to follow.

I was out of breath, and it felt like I would fall behind if I lost focus even a little.

At least, thanks to the sparkles falling from her wings, there seemed to be no worry of losing the way.

I ran without rest, following Ari who was going inside.

Then, different sceneries from before greet me.

The trees were still standing tall, but on their trunks and branches, coral bloomed like flowers, and countless small lives were living stuck together like moss.

I can see fish swimming between branches and starfish shining like stars.

It was a place that strongly retained the appearance of the sea.

A mysterious world where waves dance instead of leaves, and whale songs echo instead of bird songs.

The whale sounds, like the occasional ship’s horn, settle heavily and vibrate the space.

“Intruder!!”

With those words, fairies popped out and surrounded me.

They were wearing armor similar to the shells of crustaceans.

They aim at me, holding tridents.

They were communicating with each other, holding conch shells like walkie-talkies.

“W-wait a moment!”

Ari flew near me, speaking urgently.

“Priestess?”

“This is my guest.”

“Guest?”

Seeing their respectful manner of speaking, Ari seemed to be more respected than I thought.

Looking now, the shape of the wings was different.

Ari had butterfly wings, but the soldiers who lowered their spears had wings similar to bees.

It seemed they distinguished ranks by wings.

The one who appeared to be their captain exchanges conversation with Ari. He had dragonfly wings.

“This person knows many interesting stories.”

“…Stories?”

“They say they’re an adventurer.”

“You’re letting an outsider in for such a reason? I told you before, didn’t I? Don’t trust others carelessly. Priestess, you’re too naive. And why did you go outside alone?”

Ari subtly avoids the man’s gaze.

She tries to whistle by pursing her lips, but no sound comes out.

Only a “pwooo” sound of spitting is heard.

“Sigh. Saying you’re naive is not a compliment. It means you’re easy to exploit.”

“But this person is really…”

“How long have you known this person?”

“That’s…”

“I’m saying there’s no trust or anything built to let someone in just for one story.”

I stood awkwardly in place, listening to the argument between those two—which was essentially one-sided nagging.

[Anonymous Constellation 1 can’t help but sneer seeing your appearance.]

[Anonymous Constellation 3 marvels, saying the scenery is beautiful.]

[‘The Owner of the Bookshelf with Nostalgia’ has sponsored information related to fairies.]

“Sponsorship?”

I tilted my head at the word “sponsorship.”

Opening the inventory, there was indeed something like a small note inside.

When I clicked on that note, a message floated in the air, and the note disappeared.

[Underwater tree spirits are a race that loves stories. If you tell them an interesting story, you can easily be invited as their guest.]

“Hmm.”

I watched the argument between Ari and the man with narrowed eyes.

But the man seems to be opposing too much for that to be the case.

Should I trust the Constellation’s words?

I remember the advice from an unfamiliar voice when I was in the waiting room before.

The words telling me not to trust the Tower.

Whose words are correct? The voice echoing in my head was strangely ominous, but…

The Tower that brought them in was also equally ominous.

“If everyone listens to this person’s story, they’ll understand! I’m telling you, it’s similar to our deity’s story!”

“Sigh, yes. Let’s hear it once.”

The man spoke with a tone as if he had given up further arguing.

And the gazes looking at me.

Those gazes were generally not favorable.

They seemed to reveal a determination not to be swayed no matter what.

They were said to love stories, but their current appearance didn’t look like that at all.

“Haemi! Please tell these people the story you told me. Everyone will like it!”

Her eyes sparkle as if it will certainly be so.

She’s an excessively positive person.

[‘The Owner of the Bookshelf with Nostalgia’ encourages you, saying they will like your story.]

“Ahem.”

I cleared my throat once and started the story again.

.

.

.

Shortly after, I finished the story.

Then, only sniffling sounds filled the forest.

Even the man who looked like the captain was pretending not to, but he had turned around and was secretly wiping away tears.

He was holding the bridge of his nose between his eyes, trying to hold back tears.

“It’s such a sad story.”

“Poor little mermaid.”

“This level is certainly…”

Ari makes a triumphant expression as if to say ‘See?’

“How about it? You understand why I did that, right?”

“It was certainly an interesting story. But that’s not evidence enough to trust this person.”

Well, this would be the correct response.

The atmosphere seems closed, and they can’t casually accept an outsider whose identity isn’t properly known.

“I-I’ll vouch for them.”

Ari stepped forward and said.

The man made an expression as if having a headache and said:

“No, that problem…”

Then, exhaling a sigh, he reluctantly uttered words of permission.

“Sigh, fine. But let’s assign surveillance guards nearby.”