In the glare, a shape that refused the light: bark black as coal, edges blurred by heat. A tree hiding in plain sight, cased in soot. Its roots threaded beneath the crust, thin as wires, feeding gas into hairline cracks. The vents bloomed blue where the roots breathed, then turned orange as the mix thickened.
"Found you." Adyr smiled at the source. "Cindervein Tree. Its roots release the gas from under the soil, and the fire is in its wake."
"Looking at the area its roots reach, it has to be more than 300 years, right?"
Adyr checked his memory on the Cindervein Tree. As this species ages, the trunk rarely exceeds 2 meters, but the roots keep stretching, claiming more ground. He had seen one at the market for 140 energy-value crystals, yet that specimen was only 10 years old; compared to that, this one could be the grandmother.
"It's a very rare resource. At this age, its worth should be more than 500 energy-value crystals."
