Chapter 138 – Connections – IV
From high above the firmament where the winds sang ancient melodies, Anaryil could be beheld in all her glory.
A tree that was not merely alive—it was an entire world. Her branches rose like mountains, interlacing through the clouds like arms reaching toward the heavens. It was said she had been planted from the dying heart of a star, and that within her pulsed the very essence of elven time.
Anaryil was more than a dwelling—she was soul, cradle, and sanctuary of the elves.
Her colossal trunk supported thousands of levels and natural platforms, where homes, temples, and gardens balanced as if the tree herself had dreamed them into existence. Her branches stretched across hundreds of kilometers, winding over forests, rivers, and hills, housing inner and outer cities from the crown to the deep roots—where the lower elven castes lived in harmony, though always beneath the silent weight of natural hierarchy.
But on that day... everything was different.
Three translucent barriers surrounded the nation-tree. Like magical veils, almost imperceptible, rippling with the wind. Their subtle glow was a clear warning: no one but elves could enter.
What was once a bustling place with visitors from other races—traders, scholars, explorers—was now silent and solemn.
All outsiders had been politely invited to leave, for a ritual too ancient to be understood by foreigners was about to begin.
Upon the roots, the trunk, the branches, and the canopy, elves from every caste stood outside their homes, all dressed in radiant white, their eyes turned skyward, their hearts silenced in reverence.
It was a moment that many might live to see only once in their long lifespans.
The Ritual of Purification and Fertility.