Forward:

In the dark of the night, in a land without Blight, there lies a Great Tree, whose Light shone Bright.

And from this Great Tree, whose leaves once brought Life, the Winds began Howling, and the last Leaf began flight.

It flew very far, the Winds blowing just right, all around Lightning and Thunder clashed: a dance of Power and Might.

It was quiet atop the Weeping Ridge, the moon high in the sky, shining down on the land of Niwen. The Spirit Willow stood tall and proud, overlooking the land she bled and died for, Ascending to become this land’s Spirit Tree. Her leaves- or her Spirit Wisps, rather- blew gently in the Winds, a glowing curtain of blue and light purple. Old age has been kind to Seir- Light and Eyes of the Spirit Willow- though her time was coming to a close. It would not be long before her life in the physical world ended, and her next life among the others in the City of Light with Aarush, the Aspect of Light, began. But for now, she did what she has done for centuries, watching over her home, ensuring that her children- the Spirits of Niwen- had a Legacy; a home, and a future.

In the east, in the Inkwater Marsh, there was an Ancient Wellspring, from which all of Niwen’s clean Waters flowed; its origins remain unknown to this day, though there were rumors of a great secret within the Midnight Burrows. Inkwater Marsh and the Luma Pools were both watched over by one of the great Guardians of the Forest, Kwolok the frog. To the west, a dead wasteland, petrified by the Decay- the bane of Spiritkind. A great disaster struck there, and Seir had been unable to prevent it… She lacked the strength to get rid of it entirely; and now the land there stays forever cursed in Ash and Bone- the Silence kept until she chooses her successor.

To the northeast, the great bear Baur, Guardian of Baur’s Reach, a snow-capped mountain of Wonderment and Winter. Of course, he spends most of his time sleeping, dreaming the Memories of the Forest; recalling times past, and remembering them for generations to come. His wisdom made him the most revered of the Guardians, while Kwolok’s compassion made him seen as the kindest; which was solidified by his commitment to protect and watch over the Moki he has taken under his metaphorical wing. Farther west, beyond the Silent Woods where the great catastrophe took place, through a large desert, was a great city of sandstone and tall spires. This was Gerora, home of the Gorleks, the great architects and engineers of Niwen. Their structures are found all over Niwen, and some have even been seen in other lands and Forests as well; so great was their skill, to have been called to other lands, by other Spirit Trees. The center of the great oval-domed Cathedral shone bright with an orange Light- so bright to be confused as the Light of a Spirit Tree; a great Artifact that powered all of their creations. And while the professions of most Gorlek were either builders or Light Circuitry experts, there were quite a few philosophers as well: Gorlek who wondered about the world around them, and their overall purpose in life, along with an insatiable desire to reach a complete understanding of the Universe as a whole. This led them to travel to Spirit Trees all over the world, learning of the Cycle, and passing that knowledge on to the rest of Spiritkind as they understood it, for which Seir was grateful, as she knew that multiple interpretations are sometimes better when it came to Destiny and Fate. There is no one true definition; it is up to them to discover what their purpose is, what their Destiny is.

...

It was a quiet night, and Seir was filled with pride. Pride for her home, pride and love for her children; she could sense them, golden sparks of Light against the dark. Her Light maintained her Wisps, keeping Niwen in balance. All was still, and beautiful, the moonlight reflecting off of the dew covered ground and leaves.

...But it was not to last.

The winds began to pick up as the scent of rain filled the air, hot and humid. A deep rumbling sound rolled across the sky as a wall of clouds bruised purple began their steady march across the horizon. It was not long before the moon was consumed, plunging all of Niwen in the oncoming storm’s shadow. The thunder rose to a crescendo, lightning flashing, barely visible within its banks.

Seir was troubled, she feared she would not be able to protect her children from the great storm; only one leaf was left that was going to become a Spirit, but it wasn’t his time, not yet.

But Fate had other plans.

...

There was a calm, a stillness, like the water on a lake with no wind- a perfect mirror where all other impeccable imperfections may be bore witness to. The peace and silence was filled with apprehension, the storm hovering over the residents of Niwen like impending doom, and yet... And yet it was as if that moment was suspended in time; something to be cherished.

...

And just when everyone was questioning whether or not the storm would bother them at all, with a flash of lightning followed by a roaring thunder like death, it struck like a snake lying in wait for its prey. Heavy rain fell in sheets across Niwen, drenching all in its torrential waters. It fell in great curtains, overwhelming the Wellspring, flooding the rivers and lakes. The wind tore through the trees, howling along the Weeping Ridge and through the mountains beyond the Hollow Throne, the mountain upon which the Spirit Willow held dominion.

In the face of a storm such as this, however, Seir stood no chance against.

Lightning flared, striking her branches faster than she could react, setting it ablaze. Her Heart-Light cradle brightened, her power being brought to bear, putting out the flames that lapped at her wood skin. Any of the residents of Niwen could see her “battle” the storm, cowering helplessly in their dens and little huts. They could only watch, fearful, as the unrelenting winds tore through their very own homes, downing trees and tearing apart their livelihood.

Then, suddenly, all was still...

As if the great beast of the sky was resting, catching its breath. The world held its own breath, the tensions high.

The brief respite was over just as soon as it had come, the winds hitting harder than they had previously, and it grew cold. The rain became mixed with snow and sleet and hail, tearing through the roofs of Moki and Gorlek alike. A great thundering roar was heard, the snow had torn itself free from its confinement!

The avalanche thundered down the side of Baur’s Reach, tearing through hundreds of trees, Baur himself helpless against its might. He watched with great sorrow as dozens of Gorlek, Spirits, and Moki fell prey to the powdered death, as their lungs filled with white.

…

It seemed as if there would be no end to the carnage, countless lives were lost in the barrage, Seir rendered powerless in the face of the Great Storm...

And then, a particular strong gust of wind shook her branches, causing them to tremble violently. Bystander could only watch in despair out their windows as her last child was torn from her grasp, they saw the last brightly shining leaf fly off into the night…

Seir’s Light flared desperately, it had the appearance of a small Light ceremony, but she was already weakened enough, as if the storm itself had been sucking the life-energy out of her, making her helpless to stop it.

The winds screamed their victory throughout Niwen and beyond, howling as they carried Seir’s Heir away from her. It travelled through the Silent Woods, coming dangerously close to the site of the explosion, flying past a pathetic excuse of a Great Owl who was hunkering down in the embrace of what appeared to be two petrified, stone owls. The Owl that looked like half stone-mixed-with-bone and purple-ish black feathers turned her gold, sickly eyes towards the leaf with hatred and bitterness, and, with a single flap of her wings sent it on its way, not one to care for spirits.

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The leaf continued its lonely journey through Niwen, flying past a young Moki who was brave- or perhaps stupid- enough to try and survive the storm, and was doing an...

job at it, too. Emphasis on admirable. The Moki stopped in the midst of his “battle” with the ferocious straight-line winds, holding onto a tree before they claimed him as their next victim to watch as the purple-white glowing leaf streak past him, almost smacking his smug countenance head on. It flew onwards and upwards, submitted to the whimsy of the wind.

After several hours, it eventually made its way towards the shores of the Inkwaer Marsh and beyond, across the turbulent seas, past the crashing waves into an entirely different land.

The Spirit Wisp flew past a tree taller than the Spirit Willow herself; waterfalls spewed forth from its branches into rivers and lakes that were all flooded as a result of the Great Storm. Lightning struck it, the resulting blast blowing the leaf through what was once a beautiful swamp- now it was a flooded mess, but it appeared as if the water was being….redirected towards the ocean- and past a caldera filled with glowing purple crystalline silicates, small waterfalls streaming down the walls to the bottom of the grotto. The unrelenting winds carried the leaf past the tall tree, towards another tree that was scintillating bright blue and white as it tried to beat back the storm, but she too was struggling to contain the Great Storms’ fury, which was evident as a single leaf was torn from her branches, flying off into the night, southwards.

Both leaves flew around each other briefly as they crossed paths before each going where the wind dictated. The leaf from Niwen was blown north, passing a great spire that radiated a strong orange Light towards a great volcano, wisps of smoke emerging only to be blown away by the storm.

All of a sudden the winds took a violent turn, blowing down, bringing the leaf dangerously close to the lake to the left of the mountain, before being blown into one of the many caverns that riddled it. The heat soon grew to be intense as it continued through the bowels of the fiery beast of Nibel, twisting and twirling from cavern to cavern, gliding on the heat currents of the rivers of magma below; the leafs safety ensured. There was an omnipresent deep and ominous rumbling, like the mountain was snoring- a beast in its slumber. After about another hour the leaf travelled through caverns that showed signs of tampering, as in there were structures and written symbols on the walls. Vein-like markings along the walls of the chambers burned with a blue-white power, flowing into the lava, monitering it, maintaining it, making sure it was just the right amount- not too much, not too little- the heat just right.

The leaf flew into a hole in the wall of one of the rooms, emerging within a great Chamber, an odd structure in the center.

The structure emitted a bright blue Light, with undertones of a fiery red and orange Light, shining from within the strange geode held up by a rock stem. The Light pulsed and faded, like lungs breathing, streams flowing through the chamber, filtering through vents in the walls to bring Warmth to all of Nibel.

There was another Spirit there, staring, watching the mesmerizing display of Fire and Light- how it flowed and moved through the air. He was young, that much was evident from his size- he was a little short in stature as a result. He watched as a purple and blue glowing leaf came through one of the vents, circling the cavern before a gust of wind came through another hole on the opposite side of the Chamber. He watched as the leaf struck the Element itself!

There was a blinding flash of blue, white, gold, and red as the Light surged, the Element burning the leaf. The present Spirit witnessed as it caught fire before it blew off and landed on the ground, charred a light brown, the edges glowing red. Surprisingly, it was still in one piece, but...It no longer glowed with the Light it had. He watched, wide eyed and slack jawed as a flare of gold Light surrounded the leaf, covering his eyes and flinching away slightly.

Once the Light faded, the Spirit turned and beheld another...Spirit? It looked like a Spirit, but Spirits typically had white fur, not a light brown. The silent observer gasped as he realized that it looked like part of him was on fire, and he ran to the Spirit’s side to pull him away from the Element before it could do more damage. He stared down at the Spirit that was limp in his arms. The ears….They were unnaturally long, and the skin within was a dull yellow in coloration, with the fur within a light dust color. Oddly...The flames didn’t appear to be harming the strangely colored spirit. And then, finally the watcher spoke, his voice betraying his age, “Hello? Can...can you hear me…?” He spoke tentatively, unsure of himself in the world he was in. The Spirit he was holding flickered his eyes open slowly, almost with difficulty. His eyes were a bright and shining gold, and they slowly focused on the Spirit that held him. Said Spirit stared into his eyes, never had he seen gold eyes in a Spirit! He was fascinated, curious about where he had come from. He opened his mouth again to speak, “Are you...okay? My name’s Uri…” The Spirit he held just stared at him, mouth opening and closing but no sound forming words. He shut his eyes as he suddenly coughed, smoke coming out. His body fell limp afterwards as he gave a deep shuddering sigh.

Uri started in alarm, “Come on, let’s get you out of here, my home isn’t too far.” Well, relatively speaking; there was the elevator, so that made it easier to get to the surface. If it worked, that is. Strangely, wood seemed to burn inside a fiery volcano. For

odd reason, Uri thought sarcastically. The designers of the temple of Mount Horu seemed to discount the fact that fire burns wood.

Uri pulled the flamboyant colored spirit to his feet, unresisting. He took a step forward, or he tried to, weakly falling into Uri’s arms, “Hey, don’t worry, I’ll get you out of here just fine. Just lean on me.” And so Uri led him, stumbling down the stairs to the entrance to the Element Chamber, passing through the triangular opening. They made their way through the corridor that served as the threshold of the Element’s home, passing by columns supporting the roof, ensuring it didn’t collapse should the mountain wake in a surge of wayward Light. It was a moot failsafe, should the volcano’s fury be released all at once nothing but the Spirit Tree could hope to contain its wrath.

Nothing bothered the pair on the short walk to the wooden elevator that bridged the chasm that served as their point of egress. The heat was only a minor annoyance to Uri, who instead of playing with the other young spirits of his village spent hours at a time just watching the Element of Warmth; used to the heat. The fire and Light had captured his attention from an early age; it called to him with the voice of great power and majesty, it sang of death and rebirth in fire. Others made fun of this fact relentlessly at times, calling him obsessive and a “fire-fly” for his interest in the Element. He was not bothered by their name-calling, he found it a waste of breath to try and argue.

Uri all but dragged his self-proclaimed charge onto the platform, kicking a lever to activate the elevator as he had his hands full with the oddly soft fur of the spirit. He examined him as he waited for the platform to reach the stairs that led to the entrance of the mountain.

He had never seen a spirit like this before. Then again, he had never seen a spirit’s leaf come into contact with an Element of the Light. The spirit’s fur was a light shade of brown, the leaf-like antennae that all spirits had were a light yellow, almost gold. The fire that had covered portions of his body had dispersed, leaving no evidence to point to it having been there at all previously. His fur was relatively thick in places, mostly centered around his chest and neck, forming tufts on his calves and elbows as well. His tail was limp; he didn’t have the strength to make an effort, being newly born, so it dragged behind him. And his weakness was understandable, never before in Nibel had a spirit come into direct or prolonged contact with one of her Elements. Sein, the Spirit Tree of Nibel, had been too busy trying to keep the Great Storm from harming her children and her Heir, whose leaf had been taken from her by the winds.

Uri helped him up the stairs, climbing them slowly, making sure he didn’t take a fall into the rivers of magma that bordered them. He saw the tip of the massive triangularly shaped door emerge into view, and he looked down at the new spirit, “See? We’re almost there, just a little farther.” The spirit made no protest or any kind of acknowledgment, staring at his paws. Uri did not comment on the fact that he had paws, instead of hooves like all the rest of Spiritkind in Nibel- his foremost concern being the safety of this anomaly that has graced his presence.

Not long after his words, the great door loomed before them, towering and imposing. Lines etched into the frame glowed with the Light of the Element, pulsing through them like blood does through veins. The Element of Warmth truly was the beating heart of Nibel. The spirit stepped on his own tail and stumbled, prompting Uri to catch him, almost falling down with him in the process, “Come on, not much further, then I can bring you to the village Elders.”

, he thought to himself, bringing the clumsy spirit to bear.

The door sat in the exact center of the great mountain, a corridor marking the radius of the cavernous volcano, leading outside. There were several other doors, at varying elevations along cliffs, with stairs providing access to each of the eight temples of Horu. Each temple housed a trial to test those pious spirits who come to learn and worship Kenaz, the Aspect of Fire. Each temple was connected to the Element of Warmth, keeping the magma in check. Magma fell in faux imitation of waterfalls from aqueducts into predetermined pools and lakes placed around the cavern as a sort of decoration.

The sound of bubbling magma accompanied the duo as they passed through the threshold of Mount Horu, passing several ornate support columns, causing the newly born spirit to shrink away in fear, ears pinned back against his head. Uri tried his best to comfort him, but he was only three years old, and as such has had no previous experience in situations like the one he now found himself in. Uri spoke to try and fill the silence, “My parents are gonna be so mad when they find out I snuck away again…” he spoke more to himself than anything else; the spirit he was leading too weak to speak, if he even can.

After a few minutes of silence they reached the gates of Mount Horu, and the contrast of the inside compared to the outside world was stark indeed: Beautiful rolling green hills led to an equally beatific lake. The sun was rising, golden rays peeking through the remnants of the Great Storm that had finally relinquished its hold on Nibel and beyond. There was a fire spreading in the woods far ahead- a result of a lightning strike- but a flash of blue Light later and it was gone, the Spirit Tree keeping balance and protecting her children. The ground was wet and slippery from the rains, the light from the morning sun reflecting off of the droplets like diamonds littering the floor of the world.

Uri and the object of his care paused, taking in the view, the newborn blinking at the dramatic change in lighting. To their left, rising high in the sky, was another great tree, water pouring from its branches. To their right there was a towering spire of rock and orange crystal spikes, the top radiating a bright and brilliant orange, causing the new spirit to avert his eyes lest he blind himself. Farther beyond rose a snow-capped mountain, the tip actually disconnected and floating several hundred feet above its resting place, other boulders and rocks around the mountain following suite. Straight ahead, arranged erratically on the hills of Horu there was a conglomeration of huts, smoke rising from the chimneys of some. Small fields dotted the landscape, filled with crops; other spirits were seen within, checking for any damage the previous nights’ storm may have wrought.

Uri gently shook the spirit’s shoulder he was holding, smiling with a fierce pride for someone so young.

“Welcome to Nibel.”