"Long before man stepped foot on Earth, the Tree grew tall. It guided our kind on the path." Ryan's father had once told him. "In the dark we toiled away at our endless pursuits; only through its grace were we brought to the light."
Ryan always remembered his father's words; they guided him in his decision once he was sixteen to become an apprentice to the keeper of the roots. "It is the noblest of purposes to live one's life in service to the Tree," his father once said. Ryan has been diligent in his apprenticeship to the current root keeper. He observes with great care, taking the task on with the utmost respect. This however, had not gained Ryan much popularity with the other kids. They would taunt him on a near daily basis. Ryan does his best to ignore them. In his long hours spent tending the tree he'd come to realize this is his true purpose; even if it means enduring the mockery of his peers for the rest of his days. The Tree began to speak to Ryan on a few occasions, brief glimpses of a vision unfamiliar to him. On the most recent of these occasions Ryan felt an impending danger, something looming near. This leaves him feeling troubled.

One day Ryan is out in the woods with his younger brother, picking mushrooms together for their mother's stew.
"Remember Sam, to only pick the brown ones with the white stems. Ryan says.
Sam backs away from a flush he was about to pick.
"What role to you want when you're old enough to decide?" Ryan inquires.
"I want to be an explorer. I want to travel to new lands."
"That's a mighty task, I'm sure you'll be well suited for it."
A rustling of leaves startles Ryan; he turns around to see his sister standing there with a wild look in her eyes. She's only a year younger than Ryan, but she's an inch taller, this bothers him immensely.
"Carey?"
"Father says you have to come now," She urges. It's the Tree.

When they arrive at the outskirts of the village—it's empty. They make their way through the quiet streets to the courtyard at the far end. The Tree stands—forty feet tall—in the middle of the courtyard. Not the biggest, but the most important one by far. The whole village is gathered around the base of its trunk. The Chief's Lieutenant sees Ryan approaching with his siblings in tow; he barks an order and the crowd parts to let them pass. The Chief is standing near the base of the tree, someone is slumped over the roots. The chief turns to look at Ryan, his face grim.
"What's happened Father?"
He need not answer. As Ryan reaches the Tree, he lets out a gasp. The man slumped over the roots of the tree is Yaxley—the current root keeper. The roots are soaked in blood. It is an evil thing to slay the root keeper, especially on the tree's roots. Already the Tree appears to be withering.
"How is the Tree?" The chief probes.
Ryan walks up to it, putting his hand on the bark. He turns back to his father, "It's–dying." A lightness washes over Ryan; his vision turns black.

Ryan stands in a clearing surrounded by lush forest: moss pads the ground, long grasses rustle with the wind, the air tastes salty. A woman in a white dress stands in the middle of the clearing, next to the clearest pool Ryan has ever seen. The Woman regards him with piercing, blue eyes. She beckons him closer. Ryan walks toward her, stoping a few feet away. She's the most beautiful woman he's ever seen: her pale skin glows, almost as white as her dress; her face is unnaturally symmetrical.
"Who are you?"
"I am the lady of the pool," she answers in a cool tone, like a trickling stream. "The water from this pool is the only thing that can save the Tree. I can offer you some guidance. Someone in the village has betrayed you; watch your back. You will need two companions, neither of which you have met yet; look for them in the unlikeliest of places.
"But I don't understand, how did I get here?"
"You are not really here, your consciousness has drifted from your body."
"What do you mean I will need two companions? I'm not an explorer."
"Shh," she soothes. "There is no more time for questions; you must go back now. Remember what I have said."

Ryan opens his eyes. He's laying on the ground near the tree.
"Are you ok Ryan?" his Father asks, helping him up.
"Only water from the sacred pool can save the Tree."
"How do you know this?"
"The Tree–it told me. Someone must be sent at once."
The crowd gasps.
"If what you say is true, and the tree told you this; you must be the one to go."

The village had never felt so silent. Ryan stood before the Tree, its once‑vibrant leaves now curled inward like a wounded creature. A faint tremor pulsed beneath his palm as he steadied himself. The crowd watched him with a mixture of fear and awe, emotions he had never inspired before. He wished he didn’t inspire them now.

“The sacred pool lies far beyond our borders,” the Chief said, his voice carrying across the courtyard. “No one has ventured there in generations.”

Ryan swallowed hard. His legs still felt unsteady from the vision, and the Lady’s words echoed in his mind like a whisper trapped between worlds.

Someone in the village has betrayed you.

He dared not look around. Every face suddenly felt unfamiliar.

“I’ll go,” Ryan said, surprising even himself. “If the Tree chose me, then I’ll go.”

A murmur rippled through the villagers. His sister Carey stepped forward, eyes wide.

“Ryan, you can’t just leave. You’re not...” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “You’re not ready.”

He almost agreed with her. But the Tree’s fading presence pressed against his thoughts like a plea.

“I have to,” he said softly.

His father placed a hand on his shoulder. “Then you will go with our blessing. But you must leave before nightfall. The Tree weakens by the hour.”

Ryan nodded, though dread coiled in his stomach. He turned to Sam, who clutched the basket of mushrooms to his chest.

“Take care of Mother,” Ryan said.

Sam nodded, trying to look brave.

As Ryan stepped away from the courtyard, the villagers parted again, but this time their expressions had changed. Some looked hopeful. Others fearful. A few looked proud. But there were eyes among them that lingered too long, too coldly.

The Lady’s warning prickled at the back of his neck.

Ryan hurried home to gather what little he would take: a waterskin, a knife, a cloak, and a small wooden charm carved in the shape of a leaf; his father’s gift when he began his apprenticeship. He paused at the doorway, taking in the familiar scent of hearth smoke and dried herbs. It struck him that he didn’t know when he would smell it again.

Carey followed him inside, arms crossed tightly.

“You’re being foolish,” she said. “Visions aren’t always what they seem.”

“This one was,” Ryan replied. “I felt the Tree dying. I saw the pool.”

She hesitated, her expression softening. “Then promise me you’ll come back.”

“I’ll try.”

“That’s not a promise.”

He managed a faint smile. “Then I promise.”

Carey exhaled shakily and pulled him into a fierce embrace. “Don’t trust anyone too quickly,” she whispered. “Not everyone wants the Tree saved.”

Her words chilled him more than the Lady’s had.

By the time Ryan reached the village gate, the sun had dipped low, staining the sky with streaks of amber and violet. The Chief’s Lieutenant waited there, holding a satchel.

“Provisions,” the Lieutenant said gruffly. “And a map. It’s old, but it’s the best we have.”

Ryan accepted it with a nod. The Lieutenant leaned closer.

“Find who did this,” he murmured. “Root keepers are not slain by accident.”

Ryan’s breath caught. “You think the killer is still here?”

“I think,” the Lieutenant said, “that evil rarely travels far from its purpose.”

Before Ryan could respond, the Lieutenant stepped back and raised his voice.

“Open the gate!”

The wooden doors groaned as they swung outward, revealing the darkening forest beyond. Ryan tightened his grip on the satchel and stepped forward. The moment he crossed the threshold, a strange sensation washed over him: like the world had shifted, like the air itself was holding its breath. He glanced back once. His family stood at the gate, small figures framed by torchlight. The Tree loomed behind them, its branches drooping like tired arms.

Ryan turned toward the forest.