The silver light that had been flowing freely between the branches became softer and less bright as they walked, and the light surrounding them got darker. Lian could see that the Lumerin's brightness was fading, even though it tried hard to stay bright. Its wings twitched as if it were experiencing the burden of the losing force. The Lumerin smiled at him when he asked how he was doing and told him that although if guardians of light faded when the magical world was in trouble, hope and courage always brought them back to life.

Lian's promise to keep going, no matter how hard the journey became, appeared to elevate the guardian's spirit, and its wings seemed to shine with a new brightness. They soon reached the beginning of the silver thickets, a great labyrinth of tall, shiny bushes that moved gently even when there was no wind. Their thin branches swayed as if they were listening to secrets given by unseen currents. Lian could see that the thickets were a maze of shiny paths that went in all sorts of directions. He sensed a strange energy coming from within as he got closer, something that appeared alive and alert.

The Lumerin told him to stay close and pay close attention because the silver thickets were known to change their course based on memory and mood, which helped people who had clear goals but confused those who were scared or unsure. Lian took a deep breath and placed his hand on his heart. He thought of his promise to fix the songstone and protect the magic that provided color, wonder, and dreams to the world. The bushes appeared to respond by parting slightly to reveal a narrow passage lighted by faint silver threads that pulsed quietly like a heartbeat. As Lian and the Lumerin entered the labyrinth, the air changed right away.