The path they followed grew brighter with every step. The ground beneath their feet glimmered as though made of pure energy, pulsating softly with life. The air around them shimmered, alive with an almost imperceptible hum, as if the place itself were observing their every move.
“Do you feel that?” Tarik asked, glancing around.
“It’s the tree,” Ayna replied, her voice reverent. “It’s drawing closer… or perhaps we’re the ones moving toward it.”
She pointed ahead. On the horizon, a shadow began to take shape—vast and majestic. As they drew closer, they saw the Tree of Eternity, its magnificence beyond words. Its colossal branches stretched endlessly into the heavens, disappearing into a brilliant glow, while its roots spread across the ground like veins of light, anchoring all existence.
“It’s more incredible than I imagined,” Tarik said, stopping to take in its immensity.
“It’s more than a tree,” Ayna murmured. “It’s the foundation of every world.”
Yet as they approached, a dissonance became clear. Despite its brilliance, there was a disturbance within the tree—a dark presence swirling amidst the light.
“Something’s wrong,” Tarik said quietly, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his sword. “This place… someone has defiled it.”
Ayna nodded, her senses attuned to the disturbance. As they circled one of the massive roots, they saw it: a portion of the tree’s root system was blackened, as if infected. Shadows coiled around it, writhing like living creatures.
“What is that?” Tarik asked, his voice tense.
“It’s corruption,” Ayna said, her voice trembling with both awe and dread. “A consequence of disregarding eternity. Someone—or something—has tried to alter the essence of this place.”
Tarik stepped closer, studying the shadowy tendrils. As his hand grazed the corrupted root, a vision burst into life before them.
A figure emerged, cloaked in black, their face hidden beneath a deep hood. Their presence radiated power and menace.
“You have come far,” the figure said, their voice low and resonant. “But are you prepared to face the truth?”
“Who are you?” Ayna demanded, stepping forward with determination.
“I am one who no longer belongs to this world,” the figure replied. “But you know me. You always have. The time will come when you must choose: restore the tree or let it wither.”
Tarik stepped closer, his eyes blazing with defiance.
“We won’t let you destroy it.”
The figure laughed, their voice echoing like thunder through the ethereal space.
“You still don’t understand how deep this goes,” they said before dissolving into the swirling shadows.
Ayna and Tarik were left alone before the wounded tree, where life and death waged a silent battle.
“What now?” Tarik asked, turning to Ayna.
“We find out who they are,” she said, her