God’s Tree

Before Argolaith could reply, the ground shuddered violently. A deep, resonant tremor surged through the ruins, making the very air vibrate.

The ancient stone seemed to groan in protest, and dust and small fragments of debris rained down from the collapsed ceilings.

In the distance, voices rose in alarm as other scholars and warriors alike sensed the coming danger.

Rumors began to swirl among those gathered that the primordial beast—its description as dreadful as any nightmare—had finally stirred and was drawing near.

Kaelred's face grew grave. "They say it stands over one hundred feet tall, with twin heads whose eyes glow with a shimmer like a blazing black flame."

"Its wings stretch across the horizon, and its skin is encrusted with metals that shimmer black and gold."

"It is said that wherever it treads, the very mountain is reshaped, and those who dare challenge it are crushed as if they were but insects."

His voice was hushed, laden with both fear and awe.

Argolaith swallowed hard. "It's following the scent of the herbs I used in my stew, isn't it?" he asked quietly, more to himself than to Kaelred.

The thought chilled him, for if the beast was indeed drawn to the magic of his ingredients, then its hunger would soon bring it to the very heart of the ruins.

Despite the foreboding presence of the beast, Argolaith's hunger for knowledge outweighed his fear.

He returned to studying, poring over texts that described the ancient art of rune smithing and the creation of potent alchemical formulas.

He deciphered diagrams that showed how to combine various herbs with the essence of rare minerals to create elixirs capable of not only healing wounds but also granting fleeting moments of enhanced strength and clarity.

As he carefully transcribed another passage on medicinal pill crafting, a low murmur arose from somewhere deep within the ruins.

It was as if the ancient walls themselves were speaking, their voices merging with the sigh of the wind.

"This knowledge… it is more than mere words on stone," Argolaith mused. "It is a legacy left behind by those who knew the true nature of magic."

Lost in thought, he barely noticed as Kaelred slipped away into another corridor of the ruins.

Yet, a part of him hoped the red-haired man would remain nearby. Their shared purpose, however fleeting, offered a sense of solidarity amid the isolation of these haunted halls.

The hours passed slowly as Argolaith diligently studied every scrap of ancient lore he could find.

He uncovered secrets about the forging of magical artifacts, the careful balance of elemental forces in alchemy, and even the rudiments of array formations—a method that allowed the user to weave magic as one might weave clothes.

With each revelation, his understanding deepened, and his determination to master these arts grew stronger.

But the mountain was not finished with him yet. Outside the crumbling walls of the ruins, the tremors intensified once more.

Distant roars and the sound of shattering stone made it clear that the primordial beast was on the move, its monstrous silhouette now visible as it traversed the lower slopes.

Rumors spread quickly among the scattered scholars and warriors: those who had dared to venture near the entrances of the ruins had seen it.

Some claimed it moved like a force of nature, crushing all in its path; others whispered that it was a guardian of the ancient mountain, sent to test the worthiness of those who sought its secrets.

Argolaith's eyes narrowed as he closed his tome. "I must learn all I can while I have the chance," he murmured, more determined than ever.

"Even if that means facing the beast head-on—or outlasting its approach." He carefully gathered his notes and the scrolls, storing them away in his storage ring for safekeeping.

A chilly wind howled through the crumbling corridors, rattling ancient doors and sending echoes through the ruined halls.

Every creak and groan of the mountain filled him with a sense of urgency. "Time is short," he thought, "but knowledge is eternal."

With that, he resolved to study even harder, knowing that the wisdom he uncovered might be the key not only to surviving the mountain's trials but also to unlocking the power of his Five Trees.

Then, as if summoned by fate itself, Kaelred reappeared. The red-haired man emerged from a shadowed archway, a serious expression replacing his earlier, more enigmatic demeanor.

"I see you've found much of what the ancients left behind," he said quietly, glancing over the scrolls spread before Argolaith.

"But remember, these ruins hold dangers beyond what you can read. The knowledge here is powerful, but it is also a double-edged sword."

Argolaith looked up, meeting Kaelred's golden eyes. "I understand," he replied.

"I came here to learn, to absorb the ancient arts. If mastering these secrets can help me overcome the trials ahead—and perhaps tame even the primordial beast—then I must know them."

Kaelred nodded slowly. "Then let us share our findings, for together our understanding may grow. But be warned: not all wisdom is meant to be wielded by mortal hands. Some secrets demand a price."

He paused, glancing warily toward the distant beast thats roars that echoed across the mountain. "And something tells me that price may be paid sooner than we'd like."

Their conversation was cut short by the sudden intensification of the tremors. The ground beneath their feet shook, and a distant rumble crescendoed into a deafening roar.

A collective murmur of alarm rose from the few others present in the ruins. The primordial beast, whose terrible form had been the subject of whispered legends, was nearing.

Argolaith's heart pounded as he realized that the beast was tracking the lingering scent of the enchanted herbs used in his earlier stew.

"It is coming," he said softly, his voice laced with both dread and defiance.

Kaelred's eyes flickered with grim determination. "We must finish our studies quickly," he urged.

"For every moment we linger, the beast draws closer, and with it, the trials of the mountain become ever more dangerous."

Argolaith and Kaelred gathered their scrolls and notes, stowing them in their storage rings.

With one last, lingering glance at the ancient texts—a treasure trove of rune smithing, alchemical recipes, and arcane formations—Argolaith murmured, "Knowledge shall be my shield, and wisdom my sword."

Then, with a steeled heart, he stepped out of the ruins into the harsh, icy light of the mountain's higher reaches.

In that moment, the roar of the beast grew louder, mingling with the wind as it swept over the plateau.

The towering form of the primordial creature was now unmistakable—a behemoth over one hundred feet tall on four massive legs, twin heads with eyes glowing with a blazing black flame, and enormous wings that spanned the horizon.

Its skin, if one could call it that, was encrusted with shimmering Orichalcum and Adamantite, making it appear as if it were forged from the very essence of the mountain.

As it moved, the creature left destruction in its wake, its every step reshaping the landscape as though terraforming the very earth.

Those who dared confront it were either smushed like insects or ignored as mere flies buzzing in the wind.

Yet, amid this chaos, Argolaith pressed onward.

With his newly acquired knowledge burning in his mind and his resolve tempered by every trial he had faced, he knew that every lesson in those ancient texts would prove invaluable in the challenges ahead.

The primordial beast's presence was a dire omen—a test of both his skill and his inner strength.

And even though its monstrous form lurked on the horizon, tracking the scent of his herbs, Argolaith remained focused on his higher purpose.

"I must use this knowledge," he whispered as he started the long trek toward more ruins visible in the distance.

"These ancient arts… they are the key to unlocking the power of my Five Trees. And with that power, I can shape my destiny, no matter what horror approaches."

For hours, he climbed the icy slopes, each step a battle against the elements.

His thoughts wove between the arcane recipes he had copied, the secret arrays of runes that promised to harness the very energy of the mountain, and the grim reality of the primordial beast drawing ever nearer.

His body ached with the exertion of the climb, yet his mind remained alight with determination and curiosity.

Every carved symbol and every faded inscription in the ruins echoed in his thoughts, urging him to understand, to master the secrets of the ancients.

At times, he paused on precarious ledges, catching his breath as he studied the intricate carvings on ancient stone tablets that lined the ruined corridors.

"These words," he murmured, running his calloused finger over the faded script, "speak of a time when magic was pure and unbridled. They tell of arrays and formations that channeled the raw essence of the earth. I must learn these secrets if I am to survive what lies ahead."

His voice was barely audible, swallowed by the roar of the wind and the distant rumble of the approaching beast.

As twilight approached, the vast expanse of the mountain was bathed in a ghostly silver light.

Argolaith found shelter in a partially collapsed archway—a remnant of the once-great civilization that had built these ruins.

Here, among the crumbling stone and ancient echoes, he studied long into the night by the light of a small enchanted lantern.

He transcribed additional passages on the art of rune smithing, carefully noting the subtle differences between protective and destructive arrays.

He cross-referenced these with his own burgeoning understanding of alchemy, mapping out potential recipes that might one day grant him the ability to create potions of immense restorative power.

Lost in the sacred silence of the ruins, Argolaith scarcely noticed the creeping tendrils of fatigue until a soft, almost imperceptible sound broke the silence—a rustling of pages and a whispered murmur.

He looked up to find Kaelred standing near a shattered mosaic, his red hair falling in wild disarray as he pored over another ancient manuscript.

Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, no words were exchanged; instead, there was a mutual understanding—a silent pact forged in the pursuit of ancient wisdom.

"Knowledge," Argolaith said quietly, "is both a blessing and a burden. Each word I read, each symbol I decipher, brings me closer to power… but also closer to the perils that await."

Kaelred nodded, his golden eyes reflecting both hope and sorrow.

"And yet, without it, we remain as we are—bound by the limitations of our mortal forms. The ancients understood this well. They left us these ruins as both a gift and a test. May the lessons we learn here serve us well in the trials to come."

Their voices faded into the night as they returned to their individual studies. Argolaith's mind was alight with thoughts of forgotten lore and the promise of magic yet untapped.