The Garden of Time greeted Emiren and Aliana with an unusual silence. After they left the Tapestry, the world around them seemed to be holding its breath. No wind stirred the leaves, no sound disrupted the equilibrium, but the air was thick with tension—as if the very ground was waiting for a decision.
Before them stood a tree they had not seen before. It grew atop a small hill, its branches reaching skyward and intertwined with golden threads. Unlike other trees in the Garden, this one looked peculiar: its trunk was split into two halves. One half glowed with a soft golden light, while the other was blackened, as if charred, frozen in time. Instead of leaves, the branches bore multicolored fireflies, each pulsing like a tiny heart.
— “This is the Branch of Choice,” Aliana said, stopping in her tracks. Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. — “The main point where time diverges. Every decision here creates a new reality.”
Emiren studied the tree, a sense of unease growing in his chest.
— “But why is it… torn apart? What happened to it?”
Aliana touched one of the golden threads hanging from a branch and closed her eyes. A moment later, she shuddered.
— “The Creators. They interfered with the very fabric of this tree to alter its balance. The golden half represents the flows of time that remained pure. The blackened half… those are the ones that were corrupted.”
Secrets of the Roots
As they moved closer, they noticed that the tree’s roots extended outward, connecting it to different parts of the Garden through threads. Some roots were vibrant and pulsing with life, while others looked burnt and lifeless. When Emiren stepped onto the ground near the tree, something shifted: a vision unfolded before them, flickering in the air like a living memory.
They saw three figures—Creators—standing near the tree. Tall and cloaked in dark robes, they were arguing. Their words were indistinct, but their gestures were telling: one of them tried to protect the golden branch, while the other two wove something dark, threads that shouldn’t exist. With every motion, the tree’s branches darkened, and the Garden around them slowly filled with shadows.
— “They did this to change the future,” Aliana whispered. Her hands clenched into fists instinctively. — “One of them tried to save the Garden, but they betrayed him.”
Emiren nodded, his gaze fixed on the charred roots.
— “This place is the key to everything. We must restore the balance. But how?”
The First Choice
A figure appeared before them—a petite woman in a golden robe, almost translucent, like a reflection in murky water. Her eyes glowed with warmth and sorrow at the same time.
— “You have reached the Branch of Choice,” she said, her voice resonating both in their minds and around them. — “But not everyone is given the right to decide its fate.”
— “Who are you?” Emiren asked, his gaze locked on her.
— “I am the shadow of the first Creator who protected this tree,” she replied. — “Once, I made the wrong choice, and now my spirit is bound here to witness the choices of others. But perhaps you can succeed where I failed.”
She extended her hand, and two paths materialized before them, each leading to a different part of the tree. One was bathed in warm light, the other shrouded in darkness.
— “The path of light will purify the branch, but it will destroy all the timelines once created by its influence,” she explained. — “The path of darkness will preserve those timelines but at the cost of further destruction to the Garden.”
— “This is a trap,” Aliana whispered. — “There’s no right choice.”
— “Every choice has a price,” the Creator’s shadow responded. — “Sometimes, it’s not about which path you choose, but how you act after making it.”
Attempting a Third Path
Emiren looked at Aliana, his eyes gleaming with determination.
— “If there’s no right choice, then we’ll create one.”
— “What do you mean?” she asked, staring at him in surprise.
Emiren lifted the golden thread they had received from the Keeper and directed it toward the darkened part of the tree. As the thread touched the blackened branch, the tree shuddered, and the shadows around them came alive. But he didn’t stop.
— “Light and darkness aren’t opposites,” he said, holding the thread firmly. — “They’re always intertwined. We can restore balance if we weave them together.”
Aliana caught on to his idea and began threading another strand into the golden flows hanging from the branches. The tree creaked in protest, as if resisting, but its branches slowly came to life. The golden and dark strands intertwined, creating a new, shimmering pattern.
The Creator’s shadow watched them, her expression shifting from sorrow to astonishment.
— “This…” she whispered. — “This is a path I hadn’t considered. Perhaps you truly can save the Garden.”
When the weaving was complete, the tree radiated with a new light. Its golden and darkened parts no longer battled each other but harmoniously intertwined. The air around them filled with warmth and calm.
But this was only the beginning. The new balance opened a different path—to the heart of the Garden itself, where the true cause of its destruction awaited.