God’s Tree

The golden mist parted like a curtain, and Argolaith stepped through—

back into the world.

The sudden return to natural air struck him harder than expected. The crisp scent of old forest, wet bark, and damp earth filled his lungs. Light filtered gently through high trees, and birdsong whispered through the branches. Compared to the mirrored stillness of the trial realm, this was chaos—beautiful, living chaos.

Waiting just beyond the tree line were Kaelred, Malakar, and Thae'Zirak.

They had sensed the moment he passed the trial. The forest had shifted—the pressure lifted, the ground relaxed, and the trees bent subtly in reverence.

Kaelred was the first to speak.

"Well," he said, grinning with tired relief, "you're not dead. Which is a nice change from the usual outcome when you vanish into strange magical spaces."

Argolaith exhaled slowly. "It's done. The third tree… I've got the lifeblood."

Malakar tilted his head, studying him with those ever-burning violet eyes. "You are changed. Not outwardly. But within."

Argolaith didn't answer. He didn't need to.

They all felt it.

He reached into his storage ring, fingers brushing over the three rune-etched vials now nestled together. Each one pulsed faintly, like living hearts waiting for the rest of their rhythm.

Three down.

Two to go.

But that path could wait.

Because another call had begun to stir.

Not from the trees.

But from within.

That night, they camped near a low ravine, sheltered beneath a canopy of vines and whispering leaves. The fire crackled quietly. Argolaith cooked a simple meal—roasted root bulbs, herbs, and strips of skybeast meat seared in marrow-oil. The warmth helped settle the tension that always followed a trial.

As they ate in silence, Kaelred finally asked, "So… where to next? Fourth tree?"

Argolaith didn't answer immediately. His eyes were fixed on the fire.

Then he said, "No."

Kaelred blinked. "No?"

Malakar leaned forward slightly. "You sense something?"

Argolaith nodded. "A thought's been growing in me. Ever since the second tree. I tried to ignore it during the third trial, but now…"

He looked up at them, voice steady.

"I want to go back to Seminah."

Silence fell like a dropped blade.

Kaelred raised an eyebrow. "The little village by the edge of the Forsaken Forest? That Seminah?"

"The only one I know," Argolaith replied with a half-smile.

Thae'Zirak shifted his massive body, eyes narrowing. "Why?"

Argolaith looked away for a moment. "Because it's been pulling at me. I don't know why yet. I just know I need to see it again. Where this started. Before I touch the fourth tree, I need to remember who I was before all of this."

Malakar's expression didn't change, but after a pause, he gave a slow nod. "Wise."

Kaelred groaned and tossed a twig into the fire. "Ugh, fine. I guess I'm overdue to visit a sleepy town that smells like cold bread and pinewood cabins."

Argolaith chuckled. "It's not much. But it's mine."

They didn't set off that night. They let the forest breathe. Let the air cool. Argolaith lay beneath the stars, hands behind his head, staring up at the constellations he hadn't looked at properly in weeks.

The third tree's voice still echoed faintly in his mind.

Grow. Not into what they expect. But into what the world needs.

Seminah wasn't power.

It wasn't a trial.

But it was home.

And that, too, had meaning.

The sun was pale overhead, bleeding through thin clouds like light through parchment. The forest had returned to its quieter state now, the trees no longer twisting in response to Argolaith's passage. The air felt calm. Grounded.

And for the first time in weeks, the path ahead wasn't guided by a call from a tree.

It was chosen.

They walked in a relaxed line through the wide clearing that marked the edge of the ancient trial grounds. The terrain had begun to change—sloping slightly downward, with thicker groves of black pine and silverthorn cropping up more frequently. The scent of moss, pine-sap, and loam filled the air. The wind was colder now, whispering of the lands ahead.

Kaelred kicked a pebble down the trail and glanced sideways. "So. Still planning to march us all the way to the end of the world?"

Argolaith smirked. "Not the end of the world. Just the edge of it."

"Seminah, right?" Kaelred asked. "Cabins, snow, and lots of judgmental villagers?"

"It's changed," Argolaith replied. "Or maybe it hasn't. I just need to see it again."

Thae'Zirak trudged behind them in his smaller form, claws folding back as he walked, his tail flicking lazily through the grass. "Then we fly until we near the forest's edge."

"No," Argolaith said suddenly, slowing his pace.

All three of the others turned.

"No?" Kaelred echoed.

Argolaith stopped fully now, looking south. The horizon was blocked by the rising wall of green-black trees—the early reach of the Forsaken Forest. Vast. Old. Still. It stretched farther than the eye could see.

When he spoke again, his voice was calm but unwavering.

"I want to walk through it."

Kaelred blinked. "You what?"

"The forest. I want to walk through it," Argolaith repeated. "From one end to the other. No shortcuts."

Kaelred's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "You do remember it's over ten thousand miles wide, right? That's not poetic exaggeration. That's the actual number. We'd be walking ten thousand miles. Through one of the most ancient, cursed, beast-ridden woods known to man."

"I know," Argolaith said, blue eyes steady. "That's why I want to."

Kaelred made a long, slow noise of exasperation. "Oh. Fantastic. You've officially lost it."

But Malakar nodded without hesitation. "A worthy challenge. And a meaningful one. The Forsaken Forest holds secrets the rest of the world has long forgotten."

Thae'Zirak's wings fluttered slightly, his golden eyes narrowing with intrigue. "Very well. I have walked its depths once before. To fly over it would be… disrespectful."

Kaelred looked at the others, then at Argolaith again. "You're all mad. Genuinely, completely mad."

Argolaith grinned. "You can wait at the edge if you want."

Kaelred scoffed. "And miss the chance to be eaten by ancient tree beasts or wake up wrapped in vines that hum lullabies in your sleep? Not a chance."

He shook his head and muttered, "This is going to be a long walk."

They resumed their journey, now with their new heading clear: south, toward the Forsaken Forest.

The terrain gradually shifted. Hills grew more jagged. Trees taller and darker. Strange flowers began to appear at the trail's edges—blooming only in shadow, their petals patterned like eyes or spirals.

Birdsong vanished. Insects grew quiet.

The further they went, the more the forest began to breathe again—not literally, but in feeling. Its presence pressed against the edge of the world, like a slumbering god waiting for someone to step too close.

By nightfall, they reached a broken cliff that overlooked a wide stretch of it.

The Forsaken Forest stretched before them in solemn majesty—its trees black-barked and silver-leaved, rising hundreds of feet into the sky. The canopy was thick, nearly unbroken, and the undergrowth was dense with curling vines, moss-covered stones, and fog that didn't burn away.

It was beautiful. And it was dangerous.

Argolaith stood at the cliff's edge and stared out across it.

His voice was soft.

"I was born at the edge of this forest. I want to return through the heart of it. Not above it. Not around it."

Behind him, Kaelred groaned. "Ten. Thousand. Miles."

Malakar chuckled. "Then we should start soon."