It was the Virethra tree, but it was much larger than before. At first, he hadn't noticed it, his attention fixed by the destruction that had torn through the village. But now he could see it as bright as day.

The tree in question had been completely unscathed by the destruction that had ravaged the village. The bark shimmered faintly, the light coming off it illuminating its surroundings while providing sustenance to the land around it. The roots were the main cause of the glow, sprawling across the earth like the tendrils of some great beast, some of them even breaking through the cobblestone streets and stretching outward into the sky.

The Virethra tree was a highly valuable tree, mainly because of its ability to heal the local plant life and provide nourishment, food, and water to the plants connected to its expansive roots. This symbiotic relationship made it an indispensable asset in agricultural sustainability, guaranteeing the thriving of crops and vegetation in the surrounding area, even in times of drought or soil depletion.

But what it was doing now was... unnatural. The Virethra tree was overfeeding the nearby plants, a process that would only cause them to die much faster. And even stranger were the fruits hanging from its branches. The tree itself was nearly ten feet taller than a Cytharil tree, yet far thinner than a Zalithra. Its regal, almost lifelike appearance reminded him of a corpse tree, yet the properties it displayed were unmistakably those of a Virethra tree.

It was strange so he went over to investigate.

Walking around was difficult, considering the pain he felt, but he had to keep moving. He couldn't afford to stop. Whatever was happening to the village was a mystery, and the answers he needed wouldn't come from just standing idly by and doing nothing.

He had to pause several times, picking his way carefully through the mountain of debris and dirt. Occasionally, he stumbled upon scraps of food that weren't really appetizing but were nevertheless edible. The term “food” hardly seemed appropriate for the half-rotten scraps he found, but hunger left little room for choice, so he ate before continuing onward.

When he reached the base of the tree, he hesitated, his hand hovering over one of the exposed roots, not knowing whether he should touch it or not. After a moment of just standing there, he made up his mind and firmly grasped one of the roots. It was cool to the touch, almost unnervingly so, but it held firm as he began to climb, pulling himself upward toward the tree.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

When he finally managed to get up, a tired sigh escaped his lips as he stood, his gaze slowly rising from the ground to the tree. A gasp escaped his lips as he took in the sight before him. It was far larger than it should have been. Yet, despite its size, it was undeniably beautiful.

The bark was oddly smooth and unblemished, and shimmering like polished stone under the light of the sun. A viscous yellow liquid, resembling honey, flowed out of its surface, cascading down in slow, fluid streams to the ground around the tree, which was coated in a slick, glossy sheen of the substance.

“Gather three fruits from the highest branches you can reach and place the kettle near one of the tree's exposed roots. We'll just collect it the next morning. And don't forget to cut a few branches for Isolde.”

A voice he didn't recognize much, but he knew where it was coming from. It was near the bottom, on the other side of the corner he was in. Sneaking around as quietly as he could, he poked his head around the corner, and behold, it was people.

He hadn't expected to see anyone alive after the devastation he had witnessed. Yet, there they were, a small group of three, gathered near the base of the Virethra tree, speaking with one another in hushed tones as if they were trying to lay low. He had also expected them to be stonemen, but they looked more like humans than anything, with some slight resemblances here and there.

The first was a man clad in dark leather armor, his hood drawn up, though some strands of unkempt hair peeked out from it. He gestured animatedly with his hands, ordering the others around as he stood near the edge of the cliff. Beside him stood a woman with a sturdy frame, her hair tied back into a tight bun. She wore a weathered cloak that bore patches of repair, and at her hip hung a sword that looked as though it had seen its fair share of battles.

Beside the swordswoman stood another woman. She didn't possess much in terms of appearance, her face completely covered by a hood and a strange-looking bird mask that resembled a vulture or Zarvok. She carried a long staff with her, its crude-looking frame etched with powdered lines of silver runes that pulsed faintly in time with the glow of the Virethra tree.

She was a mage, though of what school he couldn't say. It was probably for the best that he kept moving.

he didn't know these people or their intentions. Mages were dangerous, and the last thing he wanted was to be caught snooping around a property that no longer belonged to him.

He was about to get up when one of humans spoke up.

“Do you hear that?”

The words froze him in place, his breath catching in his throat as he pressed himself against the tree trunk, trying to make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible. His heart pounded in his chest, loud enough that he was sure they could hear it as he tried to control his breathing.

Slowly, he began to retreat, cautious not to shift the scattered debris beneath his feet. Yet, before he could make it far, his foot landed on a twig that broke with a sharp snap—just loud enough to catch his attention and anyone else nearby.

“We’re not alone,” one of the humans muttered, his voice rough and low. He froze in place, trying his best not to breathe, every muscle straining to maintain the illusion of calm while trying to remain as silent as possible.

“You might as well come out,” one of the human women said, her tone surprisingly calm. Her eyes locked onto the corner where he was hiding. “We already know you’re there.”

Humans were dangerous, but maybe he could talk things out. Getting up, he slowly moved out of his hiding place, his face quickly being hit by the warm light of the sun as he looked down at the humans below.

“a stoneman?”