Lori leaned against the railing, her hand forming a fist against her cheek as she gazed down at the old tree, absentmindedly flicking the blade of her knife. Though she had been standing silently for the past five minutes, she suddenly let out a snort. If Grandfather had ever heard her refer to the Tree of Eternity as “the old tree,” it would have meant another lecture. Countless times throughout her youth they had stood in this very spot, having that very conversation. Every lecture was somehow more tedious than the last, but somewhere down the line—after the hundredth time perhaps—she had actually started paying attention.

Grandfather described it as a thing of wonder, in the same vein as the most noble of Prophets that had come before him: people whose deeds had been so awe-inspiring, whose names had been marked across history with such reverence it was almost blasphemous to refer to them aloud in casual conversation.

The specific choices of words that he used when referring to it, the reverential tone he spoke in whenever it was a topic of discussion—it was like the Tree had been a close personal friend to him, a guide, a guardian, or even a brother. Perhaps it was true, or perhaps it was just his age fogging his already dust-covered brain, but whatever the situation had been in his youth, it certainly wasn’t how it was now. Oftentimes Lori would sneak into the Perellasphere to gaze at it from afar, as if she wanted to catch the old tree doing something impossible. But it never did anything remotely interesting. Its gnarled branches barely swayed and its leaves never rustled—not even the barest of movement, as if they were too lazy to flap along in the wind. It remained stagnant, frozen, boring. 

But that wasn’t to say that her visits to the Perellasphere were never worthwhile. The Tree itself might not be anything to boast about, but its fruit, that was a whole different story. 

It wasn’t really “fruit” per say, but that was about as best as Lori could describe them. Even now as she watched from her position on the stands above the Perellasphere, she could see hundreds of different glowing, multicoloured orbs, flickering with movement and emitting a gentle hum. Inside every one was a miniaturized magical creature, shrunk down from their original gargantuan, horrifying selves into tiny, almost cute caricatures of what they had once been. Every dome hung from the tree’s gnarled, seemingly endless branches contained a whole other world, a prison unique to its captive. Throughout her frequent visits to the Perellasphere, a resplendent garden that glowed with an ethereal golden light and a faint, ever-present fog, she had seen mermaids, krakens, and other sea creatures she could not name, swimming gracefully through waters bluer than the morning sky. 

She had seen werewolves howling on ridges as large as her index finger, dragons putting on brilliant displays of fire, even a dancing yeti. But her curiosity never wavered. Still she would visit, exploring more and more orbs and gazing raptly at the prisoners. 

Grandfather forbade unsupervised trips into the Perellasphere for “safety reasons” (Lori rolled her eyes), but regardless of the lectures she would receive she could never stay away from this place, willingly or otherwise. The Tree of Eternity might be the most dull creation in magical history, but these creatures were unbelievably fascinating. Lori had asked countless times to be the assistant to their current caretaker, Nyanna, but he had always disagreed.

“You’re not old enough, Lorelei. . . . These creatures are not pets, they are highly dangerous even in these forms, Lorelei… Are you even listening to me, Lorelei…?” She could almost hear Grandfather’s voice now, as if he were standing right in front of her. “Lorelei… Lorelei…”

“Lorelei!” 

Lori jumped about a foot in the air. 

She wheeled around, and there was her grandfather in the flesh glaring down at her. He was a tall man with a head of sleek, neatly styled silver hair, oddly muscular for his age but slightly hunched over due to a back injury that had never fully healed in his youth. In his right hand was clutched his walking stick, a slender rod topped with a glittering ruby. 

“Yes, Grandfather?” she said, quickly slipping her knife into her pocket and adopting a sickly sweet, innocent manner that made her insides churn with disgust. 

“Don’t you use that delicate princess act with me,” he said, but there was more exasperation in his voice than anger. “How many times have I told you not to come here alone? It is far too dangerous.”

“I’m sorry, Grandfather. I was just curious to see more of your work. The Tree of Eternity is just so fascinating.”

“We both know that’s a lie,” said Grandfather, but he was smiling now. “Oh very well.” He sighed. “Come along, then.”

Lori jumped eagerly at the chance, following at his side as he strode down the steps and into the Perellasphere. As they moved closer to the Tree, the golden light that suffused the garden grew stronger, though there was no palpable source. It seemed the light was emanating from the very ground. 

“Nyanna is ill today,” Grandfather explained. 

Lori, who had been staring around raptly, looked up at him. “What?”

“Yes, she has a very high fever.” There was a note of sadness in his voice. “Very bad case it seems. The Healers are looking into the matter though, and Mother Analise has never failed us yet. So we will have our Caretaker back shortly. In the meantime, I have decided to handle her duties.”

“You know—” Lori began hopefully. 

“No,” said Grandfather flatly, and his tone of voice made it clear that the matter was closed. Lori felt childish whenever she pouted, but she couldn’t stop herself. She folded her arms and puffed out her lips, scowling. Grandfather glanced down at her and sighed again. “We’ve talked about this, Lorelei. I know how intrigued you are by them but make no mistake, just because they look cute doesn’t mean they are. These are some of the most fearsome creatures ever captured in history.

“They’ve razed whole villages, wiped out entire families, and felt nothing. They are not playthings.”

“But the Tree of Eternity is designed to hold them forever, isn’t it? You said so yourself. So why is it ‘too dangerous’ then, it’s not like they’re ever getting out.”

“You think so, do you?” Grandfather looked down at her, his eyebrow raised. “The Tree is imbued with incredibly powerful celestial magic, and it will certainly stand for eons to come, but nothing lasts forever, Lorelei. Take this for example.”

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He had come to a sudden halt, standing level with a brilliant magenta orb. Lori raised herself on tiptoes and squinted into the orb’s depths. Inside was what looked like a little soldier made of clay. It was pacing back and forth across the grounds, and seemed to be yelling with fury, but the sound came out as a shrill squeak. 

“This golem had been owned by a family known as the Lovensteins for hundreds of years. They were a tyrannical family, maintaining a firm grip on the kingdom they had enslaved for centuries using this very creature. At the time no defense the villagers could muster was enough to stand up to them, for the golem is impervious to most kinds of magic. It effortlessly eradicated anyone who dared to resist their rule.

“One of our previous Knights, Sir Gwayne, captured and imprisoned the beast here. The Lovensteins had surely thought their reign of dread would continue as long as their treacherous family line so wished, but once the golem was taken, they lost the only thing that was keeping their enemies at bay. Soon every member of the Lovenstein family was hunted down and the entire family line came to a screeching halt.”

“That’s depressing,” Lori said flatly, watching the little clay figure stomping his feet in rage.

“That’s history,” Grandfather said. “Sometimes it’s happy, sometimes it’s depressing, sometimes it’s plain bloody. This is why I keep telling you you’re not ready. As much as you don’t like to hear it, this is not a burden you want to bear at such a young age. Every single orb in here contains a long and ruthless history bound to its prisoner. Enjoy your youth and ignorance while you can.” He placed his hand on her shoulder, giving her a warm smile. 

Lori nodded but did not respond. A response had leapt to her lips, to say that she was ready. So what if there had been tragic history involved, she was no stranger to death or loss. 

After all, that was why they were being raised by Grandfather. But she held the words back. Once Grandfather had made up his mind there was nothing that could be done to change it. 

They continued along the path, listening to the weird noises being made from the interior of the orbs. Then at last they reached the foot of the Tree. Its branches were caramel brown, with so many gnarled rings along them that it looked as if they were painted on. 

“The Tree feeds on mana,” Grandfather said. “The energy of life, which fuels magic. It draws mana from the inhabitants, but it doesn’t hurt them. The Tree only draws enough to maintain the prison systems.”

“I don’t understand why you keep them anyway,” Lori said before she could stop herself. “If they’re as dangerous as you keep saying, why not just kill them?”

Grandfather considered the query. “A valid question. I suppose the real reason is because they are still of some use to us alive. The Mana we obtain from them doesn’t just strengthen the Tree, it is what keeps the entire sanctuary in operation. It is what powers our weapons, which allows our Warriors to defeat other magical menaces. It’s a win-win for everyone. 

“They get to keep their lives and we obtain what we need to keep in business. Why dispose when you can repurpose?”

“I guess that makes sense,” Lori said grudgingly. 

“I knew you would agree. Come then, let’s continue our check-up.”

They didn’t speak much on the way. The duo patrolled the labyrinthine passages of the Perellasphere, observing the different branches to ensure that all was well. It would have been tedious had Lori not been so thoroughly entranced by the magical menagerie before her. After all, this routine check was done every day by the currently ill Nyanna, and she had never found any problems with the Tree.

After nearly thirty minutes wandering through the Perellasphere, the only thing of note that happened was Grandfather narrowing his eyes at one of the branches. There was a long, narrow grey streak running through one of the branches, which she had never seen before. 

“That’s odd.” He stroked the branch gently, running his fingers along the mark.

“Is it? I mean, the tree’s not exactly a sapling.”

Grandfather shot her a harsh look, which quelled her instantly. She often forgot how touchy he got whenever the Tree was a topic of discussion. But Grandfather said nothing more. He kept his face arranged into an unusually grave expression while they walked, which warned Lori that it was best to keep quiet for the time being. However, she forgot her resolution less than sixty seconds later, when her eyes landed on a smoky-grey orb. On the surface of the shining ball was a tiny, speckled crack, about as small as an ink dot made by a fine-point quill. 

“Look at this, Grandfather,” she said. The old man followed, the sound of his walking stick muffled in the soft grass. His somber expression morphed at once into a look of pure shock. 

He reached up to caress the orb, running his finger over the crack. Lori saw his mouth form the word “impossible.” Before she could ask what was impossible, however, he spoke again, in a panicked voice she had never heard him use before. 

“Come Lorelei. Our observation is over.”

“But—”

“Now!” He turned and walked away, beckoning her onwards.  

She was burning with questions, but the look in his eyes told her they would have to wait. Lori followed at a run; he was walking so fast that she could barely keep up, his knobby little walking stick clutched firmly in his hands. He was mumbling under his breath. Every now and then she caught a few words. “Impossible…” “How could it…” “Surely not…”

They reached the entrance and he turned into the polished wooden corridors that lay just beyond the Perellasphere, his walking stick clacking loudly on the floor. Within a few minutes they arrived at the door to the Mess Hall, where they could hear shouts of laughter and a babble of joyful talk beyond. 

“Go straight to your room, Lorelei, and stay there. I’ll send for you when it’s time for dinner.”

“But why?” Lori burst out. “What is it, Grandfather? Is something wrong with the tree?”

“I don’t have time to answer your questions, Lorelei. To your room—now!”

She had rarely ever seen him like this, which meant the situation was more urgent than she had originally thought. But she didn’t understand why. Sure the crack on the orb was surprising, but it was such a small, insignificant thing. He wouldn’t have even noticed it if she hadn’t pointed it out! It was a miracle she herself had even seen it. 

But still, Lori did as she was told, waiting in her room. She sat on the edge of her bed, restlessly flicking her knife again. The hilt of the blade was eggshell-white, embedded with small slabs of different gemstones. It had been a gift from her older brother, Steven, for her ninth birthday. 

Grandfather hadn’t been at all pleased when he had found out. He had demanded that he took it back, and Steven did, but he had quietly slipped it into her hands that same evening with a mischievous wink. If Steven were here he would tell her what had happened. He was the only one who didn’t treat her like some delicate flower, as if she would wilt at the slightest sign of danger. Steven believed in her… Yes, he was the one she needed to see now. Lori jumped up from the bed at once, making up her mind. She could look for him right now, and they would find the answers together. 

Lori quietly opened her door and peered out into the hallways. Empty. Locking the door behind her, she began to tiptoe through the corridor and managed to make it to the front doors without being seen. That was a bit odd. 

At this hour of the day she could expect their Warriors to be trooping back inside, sweaty from training. But there was no one else here. Lori opened the doors with a shrug. She recoiled with a scream of horror. Something was on the other side, but it was no Warrior. It was a giant, over six feet tall and with mottled brown skin, a single moss-green eye as large as the crystal orbs hanging from the Tree of Eternity, and a giant stone club hung over its shoulder. It stared down at her. For a split second its lone eye was wide with surprise, then it smirked and took a step forward, slapping its club into its palm. And Lori saw for the first time, the splatters of blood on the club—blood that looked very much fresh.