The torrential river swept the three of them along, roaring like an enraged silver dragon as it carried them downstream. The icy water stabbed into Raine's skin like thousands of steel needles. His muscles trembled from the cold, yet he still instinctively shielded the mysterious infant in his arms. The baby was uncannily quiet, golden eyes glimmering faintly in the dimness beneath the water.
"Hold on!" Ravenna's voice broke apart into fragmented syllables within the current. Her black hair fanned out in the water like a cloud of ink. Raine saw a pale fingertip flare with a streak of pale blue magical patterning, which quickly spread across the water's surface, condensing into a barrier of ice as thin as cicada wings.
The ice barrier collided with the rushing current, producing a tooth-aching sound of shattering. Raine could feel Ravenna's magic rapidly draining—ever since fleeing the Elven Court, she had been casting spell after spell without pause. The ice slowed the impact, but at the cost of a thin line of blood seeping from the corner of Ravenna's mouth, blooming into a faint red mist in the water.
Raine's elven sight caught something unusual—at the edges of his vision appeared a pale green halo, the instinctive warning of his elven bloodline sensing danger. Something beneath the water was awakening. He kicked hard, the muscles of his powerful arms tensing as he pulled Ravenna and the baby sharply to the right.
In the instant they veered away, a beam of dark purple magic shot up from the riverbed, brushing past Raine's shoulder like a venomous serpent. Agonizing pain spread instantly from the wound—not the pain of an ordinary injury, but one laced with corrosive dark magic. Raine clenched his jaw, seeing his own blood turn a sinister purple-black in the water.
"Abyssal magic…" Ravenna's voice, carried through the water, trembled noticeably. "This river has been tainted!" A flicker of fear flashed in her eyes, and Raine knew what she was thinking—the appearance of Abyssal magic meant the thing they dreaded most was happening: the ancient seal was breaking.
Suddenly, the river thickened, as if some strange substance had been poured into it. Dark purple patterns spread through the water like spiderwebs, forming a vast net. Raine found it hard to breathe—not only from lack of air, but because the dark magic was corroding his elven constitution. At the same time, his elven bloodline grew restless; from deep within the riverbed, an older, purer power was calling to him.
"Something's down there!" Raine growled, his voice breaking into a stream of bubbles in the water.
He drew in a deep breath—an elf's lungs could store more oxygen than a human's—then seized Ravenna's wrist and, with the infant in tow, dove deeper beneath the surface.
The riverbed was as dim as twilight, yet more than clear enough for Raine's elven vision. Water plants swayed like the arms of ghosts, and among them lay scattered shards of dwarven rune-stones. Once they had glowed with golden light; now they were nothing but dull carvings.
Most striking of all was a massive fissure splitting the center of the riverbed like a scar. From its depths, Raine could faintly make out the entrance to a dwarven mine, long submerged, its doorway sealed by a cluster of glowing runes.
"…Life… Ancient Tree…"
A muffled voice spoke directly into Raine's mind, sounding like countless overlapping whispers, yet also like an echo from antiquity. The words made his chest burn—the Life Crystal he carried against his skin was heating up.
In his arms, the baby suddenly opened wide those golden eyes, reaching out with one small hand. At the tips of its fingers shimmered a faint golden light.
"He's guiding us!" Ravenna's voice, carried through the water, was edged with astonishment. "That mine… something's wrong! The seal is breaking!"
Raine saw it too—the runes at the mine's entrance dimming before his very eyes, while dark purple patterns crept over them like parasitic worms, gnawing away at the ancient light-runes.
Without hesitation, he swam toward the entrance, reaching out to touch the faltering seal.
The instant his fingertips brushed the runes, the golden light at the baby's fingertips resonated with the seal.
A surge of powerful energy rippled outward—the runes shattered like glass in a soundless explosion.
The current surged, twisting into a whirlpool that pulled them all into the depths of the mine.
Raine clutched the infant tightly amid the chaos, his other hand gripping Ravenna's wrist. He felt himself spinning and plunging through darkness, the current pounding against his eardrums, the oxygen in his lungs running out. Just as he teetered on the edge of losing consciousness—
—Boom!
The three of them were hurled into a vast underground cavern, crashing hard onto the slick stone floor. Instinctively, Raine rolled his body, taking most of the impact on his back to shield the infant in his arms. He coughed violently, spitting out the river water he had swallowed, then immediately checked the baby.
To his surprise, the child did not cry. Instead, it stared wide-eyed, curiously surveying this strange new environment. Raine let out a breath of relief before finally lifting his gaze to take in their surroundings.
The cavern was far larger than he had imagined. From the ceiling hung countless clusters of glowing crystals, their soft blue luminescence illuminating the entire space like a sky full of stars. The walls were covered in dwarven runes—intricate geometric patterns that gleamed faintly under the light.
But most awe-inspiring of all was the colossal tree carcass standing at the cavern's center.
Even in death, the tree towered like a mountain. Its trunk was so thick that it would take ten people to encircle it. The bark bore an ancient bronze hue, etched with runes Raine had never seen before. Roots coiled like dragons, burrowing deep into the stone ground. Most unnerving of all, the trunk was bound in pitch-black chains, each carved with anti-magic runes, the other ends driven deep into the earth as though sealing away some terrible presence.
"This is…" Raine's breath caught, a burning pain flaring in his chest. His trembling hand went to his chest—the Life Crystal there was searing hot, almost scorching his skin. He could feel a connection between the crystal and the tree, as if the tree itself were bound to his bloodline.
Ravenna struggled to her feet, her mage's robe soaked and clinging to her form, black hair dripping water. Frowning, she approached the great tree, brushing her fingers carefully over the cracks in its bark.
"The remains of the Elven Mother Tree?" she murmured to herself, then shook her head. "No… this tree is older than the Mother Tree. Look at these runes—" She pointed to a ring of inscriptions around the base of the trunk. "This is Ancient Elvish—older even than High Elvish."
Raine stepped closer to the inscriptions. His elven bloodline allowed him to make out the words, though with some effort.
"'Whoever touches this tree shall bear its burden,'" he read softly. "'The beginning of life is also its end'… What does that mean?"
The infant suddenly squirmed in Raine's arms, tiny hands straining forward as if yearning to touch the tree. Raine hesitated for a heartbeat, but the golden light in the child's eyes grew ever brighter, as though urging him onward.
"Wait, Raine!" Ravenna suddenly seized his arm. "Look at those chains—"
Following her gaze, Raine finally noticed that the pitch-black chains were not merely wrapped around the trunk. Each chain was fastened to a metal ring—rings that, to his horror, pierced straight through the wood, like some cruel instrument of torture.
"This isn't ordinary restraint," Ravenna's voice grew heavy. "These are Godbane Chains—legendary magical devices said to seal demi-god–level beings. This tree… it was once alive, a conscious being."
At that moment, the infant broke free from Raine's hold. With impossible agility for its size, it landed on the ground and tottered toward the massive tree.
"No!" Raine cried, lunging forward—but too late. The child's small hand pressed against the trunk.
In an instant, the entire cavern shook violently. The blue glow from the crystal clusters flared into a blinding gold, while the runes carved into the cavern walls blazed to life one by one. The colossal tree carcass emitted a deep, mournful groan, and the black chains binding it quivered violently, producing a shrill, grating scream of metal on metal.
Raine's head spun. His consciousness was wrenched into an unfamiliar realm—he saw a boundless forest, its trees towering into the clouds, each leaf shimmering with the light of life. At the forest's heart stood a colossal tree reaching into the heavens, its canopy spreading like an umbrella to shelter all beneath. At its roots, countless living beings knelt in prayer…
The vision shattered. Raine collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. When he lifted his head again, he saw the infant standing before the tree, wrapped in a mantle of golden light. And most astonishing of all—on one slender branch of the withered giant, a single tender green bud had begun to sprout.
"The Tree of Life…"
An ancient, weary voice echoed through the cavern. "At last… you have come…"
Raine and Ravenna exchanged a look of shock. The voice was not carried by sound—it resounded directly within their minds, carrying an indescribable weight of age and sorrow.
"Who are you?" Raine rose to his feet, wary, pulling the infant back to his side.
On the trunk of the great tree, the ancient runes began to shift and flow, rearranging themselves until they formed the vague outline of a human face.
"I am… the Forgotten Watcher," the voice replied, "and also… your origin."
Ravenna's mage's instincts made her take a step back. "What do you mean by 'origin'?"
The "eyes" of the face turned toward Raine. "Elf—where did the Life Crystal within you come from?"
Raine's hand went instinctively to his chest. "It's a sacred relic of the Elven Court. Legend says the first Elven King took it from a branch of the World Tree."
The great tree gave a sound like a sigh. "A lie. The Life Crystal is a shard of my heart… and the World Tree is my kin."
A wave of vertigo struck Raine. Could it be that the history the elves had revered for a thousand years was false?
"That's impossible," he protested. "The elven archives clearly record—"
"Archives can be altered. History can be rewritten," the great tree interrupted, "but the memory in your blood will never lie. Touch my trunk, elf, and feel the truth."
Raine hesitated. Ravenna's gaze was tense. "Be careful—it could be a trap."
But the infant once again broke free, running toward the great tree. This time, when its tiny hand touched the bark, golden light raced along the runes etched into the wood. The pitch-black chains gave a groan of unbearable strain—several even split with visible cracks.
"Stop him!" the great tree's voice suddenly grew urgent. "He is not ready—"
Before the words could finish, a deafening explosion erupted from the waterway they had come through. Raine turned, just in time to see dark purple magic flooding into the cavern like a tide, shaping itself into a leering face upon the water's surface.
"The Abyss Lord…" Ravenna's face went pale. "It's sensed the loosening of the seal!"
The "face" upon the tree contorted. "Too late… Elf—you must choose. Accept my legacy… or watch this world fall into the Abyss."
Raine looked to Ravenna. She bit her lip hard, then gave a firm nod. His gaze shifted to the mysterious infant—now entirely wreathed in golden light, its expression solemn beyond its years.
Drawing a deep breath, Raine stepped forward and pressed his palm to the ancient bark.
In that instant, the world spun violently out of control.