God’s Tree

The valley waited.

It stretched below like a still breath held between mountains—its trees towering in silence, thick and ancient, their leaves coated in a film of pale luminescence.

The glow that Argolaith had seen the night before was stronger now. It drifted like mist between the trunks, soft and ghostlike, breathing in slow pulses that didn't match the wind or any natural rhythm.

They stood at the threshold.

The slope behind them had been long and steep, cutting through frost-scarred stone and veins of black crystal. Now, at the edge of the valley, the world seemed to change—not just in temperature or air quality, but in atmosphere.

The forest ahead didn't feel like part of the world at all.

It felt like a memory someone had forgotten to bury.

Kaelred adjusted the straps of his satchel and muttered, "Alright. Let me guess. The trees inside whisper your name and then try to turn your bones into soup?"

Argolaith didn't smile. He stepped forward without a word.

The others followed.

As they entered the valley, the light thickened. Not blinding—beautiful, in a haunting, fragile way. Each tree was impossibly tall, their trunks wide enough for a dozen men to stand shoulder to shoulder. The bark was almost silver beneath the glow, and the leaves were a shimmering shade between green and white.

The ground was soft underfoot. Not with moss, but with fallen petals that glowed faintly before crumbling to nothing when stepped on.

There were no sounds here.

No birds.

No wind.

Not even the creak of tree limbs.

Malakar paused, turning his violet gaze toward the branches above. "The trees are alive, but not awake."

"What does that mean?" Kaelred asked, daggers loosely in his hands.

"It means something is keeping them… waiting."

Argolaith walked ahead, eyes scanning the still light, his hand never leaving the hilt of his blade. His breathing was steady, but beneath the calm, he could feel the world watching through layers of silence.

The call of the third tree still hadn't come.

But something else… was stirring.

They walked for what felt like hours without change—until the forest broke.

Before them stood a stone archway, half-buried in the glowing loam. It was covered in vines that grew without leaves or flowers—only pale thorns. The arch pulsed with a similar glow to the valley, but deeper—more steady.

Etched across the top was a single word in an old tongue none of them recognized, but Argolaith could read it all the same.

"Judgment."

He stopped. "This is a trial ground."

Thae'Zirak's wings tensed. "But not one of the five."

"No," Malakar said. "This is older. Precursor magic."

Kaelred looked between them, eyes narrowing. "And what kind of trial does this thing offer?"

A voice answered from beneath the arch.

It didn't come from a mouth.

It came from the air.

"This is where the false turn back.

This is where the hollow are devoured.

Only those with purpose may continue."

The vines receded.

The arch cleared.

And the path beyond it turned dark.

Beyond the arch, the light was swallowed.

The glowing trees ended abruptly, replaced by a winding tunnel of stone and root. It was narrower than they expected, like the world was squeezing them into itself. The walls shimmered with strange reflections—not of their faces, but of moments.

Kaelred paused before one and watched a memory play out—him, standing alone on a rooftop, blood dripping from his hands.

"Don't look too long," Malakar warned. "These are not memories. They're reflections of regret."

Argolaith kept moving.

As he passed, the walls changed for him.

Not with regrets.

With decisions.

Moments he'd stood his ground.

Moments he'd walked away.

And the price of both.

He didn't look.

He didn't blink.

He walked.

They emerged from the tunnel into a clearing deep within the valley, surrounded by the tallest trees they'd seen yet. In the center of the glade stood a figure.

Not beast.

Not man.

Not anything that fit cleanly into either.

It was tall—perhaps twelve feet in height—wrapped in bark-like armor, its face a blank white mask with no eyes, no mouth. Only a single glowing line where a mouth might have been. It held no weapon, but its presence was like pressure—immense, unmovable.

Kaelred instinctively stepped back.

Malakar said nothing.

Thae'Zirak growled low in his chest. "This… is not alive. It is bound."

The figure spoke without moving.

"One among you seeks the third.

One among you carries two.

The breath of roots has not called—

But the path demands a toll."

Argolaith stepped forward.

"I'm the one."

The guardian's head turned slightly.

"Then the silence must be broken."

Its body twisted—unnatural, fluid—and before they could react, it moved.

Fast. Too fast.

The guardian struck first.

One moment it stood still as stone, the next it was in motion—fluid, predatory, without sound or warning. Its long limbs cracked the earth as it lunged toward Argolaith, its bark-covered form stretching as if the air itself couldn't hold it back.

Argolaith's sword was in his hands before he even finished stepping forward. His blade met the guardian's strike with a ringing clash, the force of it shuddering down his arms and through the soles of his boots.

The sound was brief—sharp—and then swallowed again by the valley's silence.

No birds screamed. No wind howled.

The silence was alive here. Thick. Heavy. Crushing.

Kaelred cursed and moved to jump in, but Malakar held out an arm. "No."

"What do you mean no?! It's twelve feet tall and trying to turn Argolaith into mulch!"

"This is his test."

The guardian twisted again, sweeping a leg with impossible reach. Argolaith ducked, rolling beneath the blow, his boots sliding across the glowing forest floor. He struck upward in a wide arc, slicing through the guardian's midsection.

Bark splintered—but didn't bleed.

Instead, the creature recoiled and reshaped, the wound sealing over with a hiss like bending wood under strain.

It countered with a spinning blow that struck Argolaith square in the chest, launching him backward into the base of one of the glowing trees.

He hit hard—air ripping from his lungs. The tree didn't move. Didn't crack.

It simply accepted him, as if the forest had seen it happen before.

Argolaith staggered upright, clutching his sword tight. His breathing slowed. He could feel the guardian circling him again—waiting, watching.

This wasn't a wild creature. It didn't attack to kill.

It attacked to test.

Argolaith shifted his stance.

Every motion echoed in his bones, but not in the air. His sword cut through silence. His boots landed without thud. The only thing louder than the world was the pulse in his veins.

He attacked this time—fast, precise, closing the distance and slashing low. His blade bit into the guardian's leg. The creature dropped to a knee, and Argolaith used the opening to leap, slamming his shoulder into its chest and driving it back—

But it didn't fall.

It caught itself, grabbed him by the shoulder, and hurled him into the sky.

He twisted mid-air, landing in a crouch and skidding backwards across the ground.

The second lifeblood vial.

The glow of it flared. Brief. Brilliant.

And then it pulsed with in his storage ring.

Just once.

But the guardian paused.

It froze mid-strike, head tilting. Its featureless mask shimmered faintly in response. Then—

It backed away.

Argolaith stood still, chest heaving.

He didn't press the advantage.

He simply waited.

The guardian straightened.

"You carry two.

And have not turned mad.

You have walked into a forgotten place

And remembered your name."

It lowered to one knee, one bark-arm pressed to the ground.

"You are not ready.

But you are willing."

The silence shattered.

Not with noise.

But with soundlessness lifting.

The trees breathed.

The wind returned.

And Argolaith heard it.

Not a voice. Not a word.

A pull.

From far away, deeper still—beyond the valley.

His third tree had stirred.

Kaelred hurried forward as the guardian stepped aside and slowly faded into the tree it had once stood in front of. Its bark-like armor folded back into the roots, its glow vanishing into the earth.

"Well," Kaelred said, inspecting Argolaith's bruised shoulder. "That was horrifying. But you didn't die. So that's nice."

Malakar joined him, his eyes thoughtful. "The guardian wasn't testing your strength."

"I know," Argolaith replied. "It was testing my silence."

Thae'Zirak lowered his head. "And now the forest recognizes you."

The valley behind them began to dim. The glow faded. The trees stopped breathing.

They had been tested.

They had been seen.

And now they were allowed to leave.