As Ethan finished recounting his story, a heavy silence fell over the Council Chamber. The elves exchanged meaningful glances, their expressions unreadable to him but clearly communicating something among themselves.

Sevandril leaned forward, his ancient fingers interlaced. "Your tale is... most unusual, Between-Walker. Yet I sense no deception in your words."

The suspicious Council member—the one who had been watching Ethan's wristband—cleared his throat. "With respect, Elder Sevandril, we cannot base our decisions on feelings. The human may believe what he says, but that does not make it true."

"I agree with Councillor Orlin," said another elf. "While the sealing of the micro-rift was impressive, it offers little proof of a larger crisis."

Lysandra stepped forward, her patience clearly wearing thin. "The Western Grove rift was no micro-tear. Had Ethan not contained it, half my territory would be corrupted by now. How many more signs do you need?"

The debate might have continued indefinitely if not for the sudden commotion at the chamber entrance. The massive doors swung open without warning, and the guards outside appeared to be in a state of confusion.

A figure glided into the room—an elderly female elf unlike any Ethan had seen. Her hair was white as starlight, flowing down to her ankles, and her robes seemed to shift between solid matter and mist with each movement. Most striking, however, were her eyes—or rather, the absence of them. Where eyes should have been, there were only smooth, pearlescent orbs that seemed to glow with an inner light.

"The Sightless Seer," Sevandril whispered, rising to his feet. The other Council members followed suit, their earlier skepticism replaced by expressions ranging from reverence to apprehension.

The blind elf moved unerringly toward Ethan, stopping precisely in front of him as if she could see perfectly well.

"I heard a ripple in the Song," she said, her voice melodious yet somehow discordant, as if multiple voices spoke in near-perfect unison. "I felt the mending of a tear that should not exist. And I followed the echo to find... you."

She raised a hand toward Ethan's face, hovering just shy of touching him. "May I?"

Ethan glanced at Lysandra, who nodded encouragingly.

"Um, sure," he said, uncertain what he was agreeing to.

The blind elf's fingers brushed lightly across his forehead, and Ethan felt a strange, cool sensation—like mint for the mind—spreading through his thoughts. His wristband flickered rapidly:

[ ALERT ] EXTERNAL MENTAL INTERFACE DETECTED PSYCHIC SCAN IN PROGRESS SECURITY COUNTERMEASURES: INACTIVE NOTE: NO HOSTILE INTENT DETECTED

After a moment, the Seer withdrew her hand, a smile spreading across her ancient face.

"It is as I foresaw," she announced, turning to address the Council. "The Prophecy of the Starborn Mender is fulfilled."

A collective gasp rippled through the chamber. Even Sevandril, who had maintained his composure throughout, looked visibly stunned.

"Seer," he said carefully, "that prophecy dates from the First Age. Surely you cannot mean—"

"I mean precisely what I say, Sevandril," the blind elf interrupted. "Or do you presume to interpret the visions granted to me?"

The elder elf bowed his head in deference. "Of course not, Seer Elyria. But the Council must be certain before acting on such... significant revelations."

Elyria turned back toward Ethan, her eyeless gaze somehow more penetrating than any normal vision could be.

"Recite the Prophecy," she commanded, though it wasn't clear whether she was speaking to the Council or to herself.

To Ethan's surprise, Lysandra was the one who responded, her melodic voice taking on a formal, ritualistic cadence:

"When the Veil grows thin and reality falters, When the Heart weakens and the Wood withers, A Mender from beyond the stars shall appear, Bearing the touch that heals the tears. Neither of our world nor truly apart, The Starborn shall carry the light in their heart. Beware the Shadow that hungers for all, For if the Mender fails, existence shall fall."

Elyria nodded as Lysandra finished. "The prophecy was given to me three thousand years ago, during the last Time of Thinning. I did not understand then why the vision spoke of stars, nor why the Mender would come in a time beyond my seeing." She gestured toward Ethan. "Now I understand. He is not of our world, but of another—beyond our stars."

[ HISTORICAL CONTEXT ] PROPHECY IDENTIFIED: "THE STARBORN MENDER" AGE: APPROXIMATELY 3,000 LOCAL YEARS CORRELATION TO CURRENT EVENTS: 89.7% MATCH NOTE: PROPHECIES OFTEN CONTAIN SYMBOLIC RATHER THAN LITERAL TRUTHS

Ethan felt intensely uncomfortable as all eyes in the chamber focused on him. "Look, I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I'm not some chosen one or prophesied hero. I'm an IT system analyst who got randomly selected for this... job."

Elyria laughed, a sound like crystal wind chimes. "Randomness is often the veil behind which destiny hides, young one."

Before Ethan could argue further, Sevandril addressed the Council. "The Sightless Seer has spoken. Whatever our doubts, we must consider her words with the utmost seriousness." He turned to Ethan. "Between-Walker—Ethan Stark—it seems we owe you both an apology and our gratitude."

The suspicious Council member—Orlin—still looked unconvinced, but kept his thoughts to himself.

Sevandril continued, "If you are indeed the Mender of prophecy, then you must know the full extent of what we face." He gestured to an empty chair at the Council table. "Please, join us."

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As Ethan took the offered seat, Sevandril's expression grew grave. "The Heart Tree is dying."

The statement hung in the air like a physical weight. Lysandra, who had positioned herself behind Ethan's chair, inhaled sharply.

"But that's impossible," she whispered. "The Heart Tree has stood since the dawn of Elderwood."

"Nevertheless, it is true," Sevandril replied. "For nearly a moon cycle, we have felt it weakening. At first, we believed it to be a natural cycle—a dormancy period perhaps. But then the phase-sickness began spreading, and rifts started appearing."

Another Council member—a stern-faced elf with intricate golden tattoos on his forearms—spoke up. "The Heart Tree is more than just our home. It is a nexus of reality for Elderwood, perhaps for this entire realm. Its roots extend deeper than physical earth—they anchor into the fabric of existence itself."

[ ANALYSIS UPDATE ] HEART TREE IDENTIFIED AS CRITICAL REALITY ANCHOR DETERIORATION EXPLAINS ACCELERATING RIFT FORMATION ESTIMATED TIME TO CRITICAL FAILURE: 43 HOURS RECOMMENDATION: LOCATE SOURCE OF CORRUPTION

Ethan glanced at his wristband, then back to the Council. "My System confirms what you're saying. The Heart Tree seems to be functioning as what we might call a 'reality anchor'—a stabilization point that helps maintain the integrity of your world. If it's weakening..."

"Then all of Elderwood is at risk," Sevandril finished. "Perhaps beyond."

"Have you tried to determine what's causing it?" Ethan asked.

The tattooed councillor nodded. "Our best Seers and Root-Listeners have searched for answers. We have found... disturbing signs."

At a gesture from Sevandril, the councillor continued. "There appears to be a corruption spreading through the deepest roots of the Heart Tree—a taint that resists our healing magic. It bears similarities to the phase-sickness, but seems more... directed. Purposeful."

Ethan frowned. "Like something is deliberately attacking the tree?"

"Precisely," Sevandril confirmed. "And our attempts to trace this corruption to its source have been blocked by strange barriers—gaps in reality that our Seers cannot penetrate."

Elyria, who had remained silent during this exchange, suddenly spoke. "The Shadow hungers. It has found a door, and someone has provided the key."

The cryptic statement sent a chill through the chamber.

"What does that mean?" Ethan asked.

The blind Seer tilted her head, as if listening to a distant sound. "The corruption comes from beyond our world, from the spaces between realities—what you might call the Void. But it could not enter without assistance." Her eyeless gaze swept across the Council members. "Someone within Elderwood has been... helpful."

A tense silence followed this accusation. Ethan noticed several Council members shifting uncomfortably, and Orlin's expression had grown particularly rigid.

[ ALERT ] POLITICAL TENSIONS DETECTED SUSPECTED INTERNAL BETRAYAL CAUTION ADVISED IN PROCEEDING RECOMMENDATION: GATHER MORE DATA BEFORE MAKING ACCUSATIONS

Sevandril cleared his throat. "These are serious implications, Seer. Without evidence—"

"Evidence will reveal itself in time," Elyria interrupted. "But time is what we lack most. The Between-Walker must be given access to the Heart Tree's core if he is to fulfill his purpose."

This suggestion caused immediate objection from several Council members.

"The Core Chamber is our most sacred space!" exclaimed the amber-eyed female councillor. "No outsider has ever—"

"And would you prefer our most sacred space be consumed by the Void?" Elyria countered. "The prophecy is clear. He is the Mender. He must see what we cannot."

Ethan raised his hands in a calming gesture. "I understand your concerns. This is your home, your most precious... well, everything. I'm not asking for blind trust. I just want to help if I can." He glanced at his wristband. "My System can analyze the corruption in ways your magic might not be able to. Maybe together we can find a solution."

Sevandril considered this for a long moment before nodding slowly. "A compromise, then. Ethan Stark will be granted limited access to the lower chambers of the Heart Tree, accompanied by Guardian Lysandra and..." he glanced around the table, "...Councillor Orlin."

Orlin looked startled to be selected, but quickly composed himself. "I would be honored to represent the Council's interests," he said smoothly.

Ethan noticed that the suspicious elf seemed almost eager now—a change in attitude that made him uneasy. His wristband vibrated in apparent agreement:

[ WARNING ] COUNCILLOR ORLIN: ANOMALOUS BEHAVIORAL PATTERNS HEIGHTENED INTEREST IN SYSTEM TECHNOLOGY POTENTIAL HIDDEN AGENDA SURVIVAL PROBABILITY WITH CURRENT TEAM COMPOSITION: 25.2% (-2.7%)

Before Ethan could raise any objection, Sevandril continued, "You will begin at dawn tomorrow. The journey to the deeper chambers is not to be undertaken lightly, and you all need rest before attempting it."

The Council session concluded shortly after, with arrangements made for Ethan and Lysandra to be housed in guest quarters within the Heart Tree itself. As they were escorted from the chamber, Elyria approached Ethan one last time.

"Between-Walker," she said quietly, "trust the System that guides you, but remember that even the most perfect tool requires the right hand to wield it." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And watch the shadows closely—not all darkness comes from outside."

With that cryptic warning, she glided away, leaving Ethan with more questions than answers and the increasingly uncomfortable feeling that he was being manipulated by forces beyond his understanding.

"Well," he muttered to Lysandra as they followed their escort, "that went... differently than expected."

Lysandra's expression was troubled. "The Sightless Seer rarely leaves her sanctuary. For her to appear personally..." She shook her head. "The situation must be more dire than even I realized."

"And what about this Orlin guy? I don't trust him."

"Nor should you," Lysandra replied, her voice barely audible. "He is relatively new to the Council—appointed after the previous councillor disappeared under mysterious circumstances last winter."

"That's not suspicious at all," Ethan remarked sarcastically.

"Indeed. But he is politically connected, and his family has served on the Council for generations. We would be wise to watch him closely without revealing our suspicions."

They reached their quarters—a comfortable suite of rooms formed within the living wood of the Heart Tree, furnished with elegantly curved furniture that seemed to grow directly from the floor.

"Rest well, Ethan," Lysandra said as she prepared to retire to her own chamber. "Tomorrow we descend into the heart of the Heart Tree. Few have ever seen what lies below... and fewer still have returned to speak of it."

"You really know how to make a guy feel better about his life choices," Ethan called after her as she left.

Alone in his room, he sank onto the surprisingly comfortable moss bed and examined his wristband. The System displayed a summary of the day's events:

[ DAILY REPORT ] CURRENT LOCATION: HEART TREE, ELYNDRIALAR MISSION PROGRESS: 22% PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: INVESTIGATE HEART TREE CORRUPTION KEY DISCOVERIES: - HEART TREE FUNCTIONS AS CRITICAL REALITY ANCHOR - CORRUPTION SOURCE SUSPECTED TO BE VOID-BASED - POSSIBLE INTERNAL COLLABORATION WITH EXTERNAL THREAT - CONNECTION TO ANCIENT PROPHECY ESTABLISHED CURRENT SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: 26.8% (+0.1%) SYSTEM STATUS: OPTIMAL ENERGY RESERVES: 59% REST RECOMMENDED: 6-8 HOURS

"At least my survival odds are going up," Ethan muttered to himself. "Barely."

He stared at the softly glowing ceiling, thinking about prophecies and betrayals and trees that anchored reality itself. None of it made sense from the perspective of his old life—the life of deadlines and server maintenance and quarterly reports.

Yet somehow, lying in a bed of living moss inside a giant tree in another world, with a mysterious System attached to his wrist and a prophecy hanging over his head, Ethan Stark felt more... purposeful than he ever had before.

"Just fix what's broken," he told himself as sleep began to claim him. "That's all you need to focus on. Fix what's broken, one piece at a time."

His last conscious thought before drifting off was that tomorrow would bring him closer to understanding what was truly wrong with Elderwood—and perhaps closer to the "Shadow" that the prophecy warned about.

A Shadow that, according to Elyria, might have allies closer than anyone suspected.