God’s Tree

They flew in silence.

Thae'Zirak carried Argolaith and Kaelred on his back, his wings slicing through the air with swift, steady beats. Malakar rode the shadows, drifting like mist along the winds, while Naruul darted beneath them with unnatural grace—six legs poised midair, wings folding and unfolding in slow rhythm.

Below, the storm churned in slow spirals, flickering with the dying glow of something ancient and alchemical.

The field was closer than it looked.

And when they landed…

Everything was still.

The blast zone was massive.

Charred earth stretched in all directions, scorched in a near-perfect ring. Trees at the outer edge had been bent backward, bark flayed from their trunks. Grass had been turned to ash. The smell of ozone and bitter herbs hung in the air, thick and pungent.

At the center of the crater lay a single stone slab.

No debris. No remnants of a cauldron or camp.

Just a flat slate of obsidian, carved with gentle spirals, resting at the precise heart of the devastation. Floating just inches above it was a small orb of glowing blue light—its surface flickering like flame trapped in crystal.

Argolaith stepped forward cautiously.

The orb pulsed once.

Then a voice filled the air—not loud, not forceful, but intentional. Spoken directly into his mind.

"This pill is for you when the time comes in a few years."

Kaelred turned sharply. "What?"

"But for now, you don't need to know who I am."

Argolaith stood perfectly still.

"My student is someone you know very well."

The orb pulsed again.

"After all… he did raise you."

The message ended.

The light faded.

And the orb vanished into ash.

Kaelred looked at Argolaith, brows furrowed. "Did I just hear that right?"

Argolaith didn't answer.

His fists clenched slowly.

Malakar stepped forward, voice low. "There was no signature. Whoever refined this pill didn't want to be found."

Argolaith's gaze never left the slab.

"A pill this powerful. This precise." He turned his head slightly. "And they claim it's for me."

Kaelred crossed his arms. "Let me guess. The part that's bothering you isn't the message—it's the student part."

Argolaith nodded slowly.

"'He did raise you.'"

Naruul padded closer, sniffing the scorched earth. "The scent is old. But the energy is recent. Whoever left this… walked away before we arrived."

Thae'Zirak's wings folded tightly to his sides. "Few beings alive could refine a semi-divine pill and conceal themselves this completely."

Malakar's eyes glowed brighter. "And fewer still would dare speak to you so directly unless they knew your entire bloodline."

Silence fell again.

Kaelred stepped beside Argolaith. "You think it's Athos, don't you?"

Argolaith didn't respond.

He didn't need to.

The stone slab cracked suddenly—splitting from the center outward. From the break, five small stones rose upward, each glowing with faint sigils. They circled slowly in the air, then drifted downward—settling one by one into Argolaith's outstretched hand.

He examined them. They were storage runes. Locked.

Inside one of them pulsed a presence he could barely understand—raw power coiled like starlight wrapped in glass.

"Five fragments," Malakar said softly. "The pill is not complete."

Kaelred let out a breath. "It's waiting for you to earn the rest."

Argolaith nodded. "And when I do…"

He didn't finish the sentence.

He didn't have to.

The journey from the scorched field to Seminah took a day and a half.

They didn't rush.

They didn't speak much.

The weight of the message at the crater still lingered with them—five glowing fragments, a pill not yet complete, and a mystery rooted in home.

Argolaith walked in silence at the front, the air growing colder as they moved south. Not from weather—from presence.

Even with the storm dissipated and the sky clear, the land around Seminah felt watched.

When the treeline finally broke and the path opened, they saw it.

Seminah.

Tucked between gentle hills and pale meadows, surrounded by quiet forest and distant mist.

It looked exactly the same.

Houses with tiled roofs, painted shutters, garden plots with dried herbs, the tiny well in the center of town, the wooden post where old market notices were nailed. Smoke drifted from a few chimneys. A dog barked somewhere in the distance.

But something was wrong.

Too quiet. Too still.

It wasn't deserted—but it felt emptied in some subtle, impossible way.

Kaelred whispered, "You ever get that feeling that you're walking into a painting and not a place?"

Thae'Zirak narrowed his eyes. "The people are here. But something beneath their breath makes them look away."

Naruul padded slowly behind Argolaith, claws silent on the dirt road. His many eyes never stopped moving.

Malakar said nothing.

He didn't have to.

They all felt it.

Argolaith led them through the familiar path between homes. Windows were shuttered. Doors slightly ajar. Faces peeked through slats but vanished before he could return the glance.

They weren't afraid.

They were… respectful. No—aware.

Like they knew who had arrived.

And who had been waiting for him.

They passed the library—Athos's home. Its front door was closed, curtains drawn. The wood was clean, freshly oiled. Not abandoned.

Argolaith stopped at the steps.

He felt something.

Not a presence. Not a voice.

A memory that hadn't happened yet.

Kaelred stepped beside him. "You want to go in?"

"No," Argolaith said. "Not yet."

He turned.

And noticed something.

Pinned to the town's notice board in the center square was a single sheet of parchment. Nothing else. All the other notes—old messages, delivery slips, seasonal schedules—were gone.

Just this one.

Perfectly centered.

Written in impossibly fine script.

Argolaith walked to it.

Kaelred squinted over his shoulder. "What's it say?"

Argolaith read the words aloud.

"I am always watching."

That was all.

The ink was deep black. It shimmered faintly beneath the light. A rune of warding had been burned into the bottom corner—one he didn't recognize.

Thae'Zirak lowered his voice. "No signature. But it doesn't need one."

Malakar finally spoke. "The god of knowledge is not hiding."

"He's reminding you," Kaelred added. "This is his domain."

Argolaith didn't take the note. He didn't touch it.

He simply stared at it for a moment.

Then turned away.

"I believe him."