While Eleanor gazed up at the majestic tree, awe mingling with a flicker of fear, a voice blossomed within her mind. "Do not fear, child. Touch a vine that resonates with you. I will send you to your trial."
"Th… thank you, Lord Yggdrasil," Eleanor stammered, hastily choosing a vine near her right hand… one that trailed down from the towering branches above, glowing with a gentle white light.
The instant her fingers brushed it, the vine stirred. Countless thread-fine tendrils unfurled, shimmering as they drifted outwards and wrapped around her with the tenderness of a mother's embrace. Her body was cocooned, enveloped in an ethereal radiance of soft white.
She felt Yggdrasil's presence seep through her consciousness, her memories laid bare as though her life were a book held open before the ancient tree. It no longer seemed as if she stood at its roots; instead, she was reliving her own past while Yggdrasil watched over her, silent and immense.
