Taboo Online

Once the Rootkeepers moved away to choose the next group, Luke kept his attention on Aelira. Her fingers pressed deeply into the Thornmender’s shoulder while she issued the next set of orders, yet she never looked toward the walls collapsing into the trunk. Every folded chamber left another empty space where her people had lived.

Families began moving again with whatever little they had saved.

One father carried three gardening tools tied together with torn cloth. A woman protected a shallow box of dark seeds more carefully than the cracked bow across her back. An elderly elf wore a polished fragment of white-wood armor on a cord around his neck.

Near the passage, a boy clutched a carved animal missing two legs.

His group was called, but he did not move. His mother knelt beside him and whispered something Luke could not hear.

The boy kept staring toward the sealed upper paths.

Aelira approached with the Thornmender beside her. The mother tried to rise, but the Queen motioned for her to remain seated.

"Who are you waiting for?" Aelira asked.

"My father."

The boy’s voice barely carried.

Aelira looked at the damaged animal in his hands. "Did he carve that?"

The boy nodded. "He said he would find us."

His mother closed her eyes.

Aelira remained standing for several seconds before lowering herself with the Thornmender’s help. The movement pulled a sharp breath from her, but she did not stop until she was close to the boy’s height.

"I have not seen him among those who crossed," she said. "That does not tell us where he is."

"Then we should wait."

The boy looked toward his mother, searching her face for agreement she could not give him.

Aelira rested one hand against the terrace. "The roads outside are gone, and this sanctuary is leaving with us. Your mother cannot keep you here after the last path closes."

His fingers tightened around the carving.

"Take that with you," Aelira continued. "When your family has somewhere to sleep, place it where your father can see it if he finds you."

The boy’s face crumpled. "And if he doesn’t?"

Aelira’s answer caught in her throat.

She looked toward the carved animal, then back at him. "Then you keep what he made."

The mother drew the child against her. After several seconds, he nodded and allowed her to guide him toward the passage.

Luke watched the green light close around them.

Aelira remained near the opening, breathing carefully around the pain beneath her ribs.

"You left part of the answer unfinished," Luke said.

"There was no answer for that part."

Luke looked toward the empty place where the child had stood. "Giving him somewhere to look was better than telling him to stop."

Aelira turned her head slightly toward him. "You would have waited too."

"Yeah."

Neither of them added anything else.

The next group formed as Thornmenders carried bundles of bark dressings, sealed bowls, and narrow cases of dried herbs. Rootkeepers supported defenders whose legs no longer held them.

No one spoke about returning to Lethariel.

The evacuation continued in controlled cycles. Each group crossed only after the destination roots settled and the bridge recovered part of the strain from the previous transfer.

The protected field at North Basin became a patchwork of families, Rootkeepers, wounded defenders, and exhausted medics. Bureau crews brought blankets, water, portable lights, and additional open shelters, but every unfamiliar object still required explanation before the elves trusted it.

Red Hound kept the heroes outside the expanded perimeter.

A senior Bureau official eventually arrived at the inner command station and stopped when he saw the armed Rootkeepers moving among the shelters.

"I requested a count when I arrived."

"You’ll get one after the last survivor crosses," Red Hound said.

"We have hundreds of unknown combatants inside a secured site."

"We have hundreds of refugees, some of whom know how to fight."

"That distinction will matter less if one of them turns hostile."

Red Hound looked toward the medical lane. A Rootkeeper stood beside a human medic while the man cleaned a wound on an elven child. Neither appeared comfortable, but they were cooperating.

"The weapons are sheathed. Their commanders are organizing the arrivals, and no one has threatened our personnel."

"You’re assuming that continues."

"I’m making sure we don’t give them a reason to stop."

The official glanced toward the passage. "Emergency authority does not make this population your responsibility indefinitely."

"No. It makes them my responsibility tonight."

Red Hound pointed toward the outer command station. "You can watch from there until the evacuation ends."

The official held his gaze, then left without another word.

Lauren felt the confrontation only as a brief rise in tension. She no longer carried every voice through the bridge, focusing instead on urgent misunderstandings and direct instructions while the Heartroot maintained the flow of people.

Even narrowed, the connection remained heavy with grief.

Some elves crossed without looking behind them. Others stopped at the edge of the passage and stared into the silver sanctuary until a Rootkeeper urged them forward. Several arrived clutching soil wrapped in cloth, broken household objects, or armor fragments taken from bodies they could not carry.

The destination roots shifted around each group, raising supports beneath the injured and opening clear paths toward the shelters.

Lauren lost track of how long the evacuation had continued. The field lights remained unchanged, and the green passage never closed long enough for the night to feel quiet.

Eventually, the crowd visible inside the Heartroot began to thin.

Empty terraces appeared between the remaining groups. Most of Lethariel’s survivors now stood beneath Earth’s sky.

Only a small number of elves remained near Aelira: several Rootkeepers, one Thornmender, and the last wounded defenders waiting to be carried through. Luke, Iris, Kellan, and Dorian stayed near the core.

A system window appeared before Lauren.

[Native resident evacuation nearing completion.]

[Bridge integrity: 43%.]

[Core transplantation remains unavailable while native resident life remains.]

Lauren sent the message to Aelira.

The Queen looked across the nearly empty sanctuary. The remaining Rootkeepers were no longer watching the passage. They were watching her.

"Prepare the final groups," she ordered.

For several seconds, none of them moved.

Empty silver paths now outnumbered the people left inside the Central Heartroot.