God’s Tree

As Argolaith pondered his thoughts about Athos, a flicker of doubt crossed his mind, but he quickly pushed it aside. There were more pressing matters at hand—he had come into this forest to seek adventure, answers, and perhaps even a sense of purpose. But now that he was here, facing strange forces and encountering magic beyond his understanding, those questions seemed distant, like the mists that rolled in over the horizon. The mystery of Athos and his connection to this place could wait. For now, survival was more important than speculating on the past.

"What should I eat? All I have is the herbs in my satchel and the ones in the ring," he murmured, pacing the tree-house and trying to think. His stomach growled, reminding him of his need for sustenance. "Oh! I know, I'll make a salad. It's better than nothing."

Argolaith rummaged through his satchel, inspecting the herbs he had collected, and then opened the dimensional storage ring. An assortment of magical plants and fungi spilled out before him, their strange and vibrant colors a sight to behold. He quickly selected the herbs that seemed the most promising. There were soft, leafy greens that pulsed with faint light, a few slender stems that exuded a fresh, minty fragrance, and a few other peculiar plants that he couldn't identify, but their deep purple hue intrigued him. Whatever these were, they could provide the energy he needed to continue on his journey.

His fingers worked quickly as he began to assemble the ingredients. He was no expert in the art of cooking, but desperation and instinct led him to throw the magical greens and herbs together into a bowl. The colors of the salad shifted and rippled, as though the very nature of the ingredients was alive, changing in response to his touch. It was almost as if the salad itself was full of magic. The vibrant greens glowed in a mesmerizing array of colors, the reds, purples, and blues of the plants shimmering with an energy that hummed beneath his fingertips.

Next, he began to prepare a dressing. In his satchel, he had a small jar of oil—cooked fat from an animal he had killed during his earlier travels. He had never been one to waste anything, and the oil seemed perfect for the task at hand. The oil, rich and dark, would work well as a base. He poured a bit into a small pan and began to heat it over the fire. As it warmed, he added more of the magical herbs he had found earlier, herbs that had a refreshing aura to them. As they cooked in the oil, they began to soften and release their aromatic scent, filling the air with a heavenly fragrance.

By the time the dressing was done, the entire tree-house smelled like a fragrant herb garden in full bloom. The air was thick with the scent of spices, oils, and something else—something almost divine. Argolaith inhaled deeply, his mouth watering in anticipation of the meal he had just created.

But as he sat down at the table, a sudden pang of worry struck him. The beasts of the forest were always lurking, always hungry. Could the smell of the food attract them? The last thing he needed was to be ambushed by a horde of creatures while he was vulnerable. He glanced nervously around the room, half-expecting to hear the growl of some massive predator or the slithering of something moving just outside the door.

What he didn't realize, however, was that the very tree-house he was sitting in radiated an aura of protection—an aura that kept the creatures of the forest at bay. The old magic embedded in the walls, the enchantments that had long since been woven into the tree, were enough to deter even the most bloodthirsty of beasts. The creatures were aware of the house, but they never ventured near it. It was as if the place itself repelled them.

Argolaith, unaware of this hidden protection, took his first bite of the salad, unsure of what to expect. His taste buds were immediately assaulted by the strange, yet fascinating combination of flavors. The herbs were crunchy, as though they were packed with some sort of crystalline texture. Each bite felt like chewing through a dense, flavorful rock. The taste was divine—rich, bold, and sharp—but the sensation was not without its challenges. The texture was tough, and each bite required more effort than he had anticipated.

"It tastes so good, but it hurts so much," he said between chews, wincing as his teeth ground against the tough leaves. "Well, I guess it's time for some more jaw training." He chuckled softly, realizing that the herbs had given his mouth quite a workout.

But as he chewed, something strange happened. A sudden warmth began to radiate from his mouth and down into his chest. It wasn't just warmth—it was heat, but not the kind of heat one might expect from hot food. It was intense, as though his insides were being heated from the core, but at the same time, there was a chill, as though he were standing in the middle of a blizzard. His body seemed to be in some kind of paradox, as if it were being simultaneously burned and frozen.

"What is this? Why do I feel like this?" Argolaith muttered to himself, unsure of what to make of the sensation. But as he continued to eat, he began to notice that the strange energy was spreading throughout his body. His muscles, which had ached from his previous battles and long days of running through the forest, started to feel stronger. His heart beat faster, his blood seemed to flow more freely, and his organs, though still sore, seemed to pulse with newfound vitality.

The mixture of hot and cold energy was cleansing, strengthening him in ways he couldn't fully comprehend. The more he ate, the more his body seemed to adapt, the more powerful he felt. He was sure that his body had undergone some change, but exactly how or why, he wasn't yet sure. Perhaps this was the magic of the herbs he had consumed—perhaps this was their true nature.

When he had finished the salad, Argolaith felt both exhilarated and exhausted. His stomach, full but buzzing with energy, settled into a strange calm, and he rose from the table to wash the bowl and fork he had used. He had barely begun to wash the dishes when a thought crossed his mind.

"How is this sink working, anyway?" Argolaith asked aloud, turning his attention to the strange sink in the corner of the room. It wasn't like any sink he had ever seen. There were no visible pipes, no obvious source of running water. But as he looked closer, his eyes fell upon a peculiar stone set into the wall next to the sink. It glowed with an ethereal light, soft but steady.

"Wait a minute… is it this weird glowing stone?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. He reached out to touch it, feeling its warmth under his fingers. "I think it is. Maybe I'll take it with me and use it in my cabin. I'm sure Athos won't mind—besides, he lives in the library now… well, at least I think he does."

With that, Argolaith took the glowing stone and placed it carefully into the dimensional storage ring, intending to experiment with it later. He was still unsure of the exact properties of the stone, but there was no harm in keeping it. Perhaps it could be useful. As he turned back to the table, something caught his eye—a map, hidden beneath a book.

"Oh, what's that map under the book?" Argolaith said, his excitement mounting. "I'm finding all sorts of new things today."

He moved quickly to the map, brushing the book aside to reveal it fully. As he examined the map, he recognized the name of the town—Seminah. It was his town on the edge of the forsaken forest. 

The map was old, the ink faded in places, but it was clear enough to see the layout of the land as it had been long ago. But what truly made Argolaith's heart race wasn't just the map itself—it was what lay beyond the town.

The map showed a path, a clear route out of the forsaken forest, and a path that led directly to Seminah. His eyes widened with disbelief.

"Is this real?" he whispered, tracing the lines with his fingers. "I—I'm so far from Seminah. 241 miles? Did I really run that far in such a short amount of time?" He shook his head in disbelief, unable to comprehend how he could have traveled so far so quickly. "How is that even possible? Wait, was it the herbs I ate?"

The realization hit him like a jolt of electricity. The magical herbs and vegetables he had consumed must have had a profound effect on his body, altering his physical abilities in ways he couldn't fully grasp. He had become stronger, faster, perhaps even more resilient. These plants weren't just food—they were fuel, magic, and power.

Argolaith's mind raced with the implications. He made a vow to himself right then and there that he would find more of these plants to experiment with. He would learn their secrets, understand how they worked, and use them to further his journey.

But for now, he had a more immediate goal in mind. He had to return to his cabin on the edge of the forest. He wasn't sure how he had ended up so far from home, but he knew that the journey back would be different now. The strength he had gained from the herbs, the newfound energy coursing through him, would carry him through. He wouldn't make the same mistakes again. He had the map, and now he had the knowledge. The forest might still be a dangerous place, but for the first time, Argolaith felt ready.

It was time to go home.