You activate your Token, transforming into golden light. You zip through the branches of your home, just running.

But then, you stop.

You hover there, an incandescent orb of luminous light suspended among the trees. As you float in the breeze, your curiosity overwhelms you again.

Who is this man? Why is he here? You need to know.

You bob and zip around like some lost sprite of the novels, before turning around and flying back to observe this mysterious newcomer. You weave through the branches, to come to a stop above the place where you had seen Der'ii last.

You suddenly pop back into existence in a flash of golden light, crouching atop a small branch overlooking the clearing. Der'ii, the Elder, and your friend Poi'niuu are beginning to walk back up the path away from you.

You decide to follow them. Dashing through the leaves of your home like a squirrel or some other rodent, ever following your current obsession. The wind breathes its mighty breaths as you move.

The three walk slowly. Painfully slowly, in fact. They seem to inch along like snails below you, and you almost laugh at the thought of it. Almost. But instead, you watch intently as they pass beneath your perch, heading towards another tree further on in the canopy.

The Elder seems distracted while his son fidgets about uncomfortably. When the Elder speaks, Der'ii seems anxious. You manage to catch a few snippets of conversation that trickle like streams of water through the leaves. Tantalizing, but just out of reach.

"...I must speak to..." You strain to make out what the mysterious boy says as he walks a few feet away from the Aam'ein'xulaa and his son. "...important that I...need...terrible news..."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"Oh? What... I may... relay..." Elder Rag'Nash responds, surprised. "L'Neeri..."

You turn into light again and flicker down closer.

"My, sources, claim a 'Storm is Approaching.'" Der'ii says, tension oozing into his voice like tainted honey.

"What... you say?" The Elder stutters in reply.

"A Storm, your wisdom, a Calamity of epic proportions," Der'ii repeats with urgency. "I wish to, discuss, this with this L'Neeri. Of the Een'Mokk clan, you say?"

"Yes, yes." The Elder responds, sounding a little shaken. "I will send for him as soon as possible..."

"One last thing, your wisdom, before I take my leave."

"Yes, Der'ii?"

"You only have one Branded One here on this tree?"

"To the best of our knowledge, you are correct. Our pride and joy, L'Neeri. Why do you ask?"

"I guess, I am a little paranoid," He responds, looking around, "I just feel you might have to recheck those numbers..."

***

Tyrr'olni'nel'mul sits alone in the endless white plane that is his domain. His mind is blank as always, and his thoughts wander aimlessly across the empty expanse of his being.

He feels depleted, tired is not a word that he quite understands, but he feels, less. Less than what he should be. However, alongside that lessness, he feels a burning, aching curiosity. It claws at his soul like a trapped animal, striving to escape him.

He keeps it in. He needs to know.

"Why are we all the same?!" he roars. He thrashes his arms in frustration, carving up enormous chunks of his domain. The white-on-white stones flow like liquid as he brings his arms together, coalescing into a humanoid form. This pale mockery of a human shifts and wavers between five different forms.

A woman, on her older side, with burning and flickering hair like fire.

A boy, a young man at that, with a twinking in his eye and a springy expression on his kind face.

Another woman, this time much younger. She has an innocence about her, and her cheery expression practically glows with warmth.

A child, she is growing into the first stage of maturity. She has no face.

And finally, himself.

The Aarkiel stands at eye level with himself. But this copy of him feels distant.

"...Who, are we...?"