Upon the three-hundred-and-first day of the Creators' Monomachy, the Heartwood council gathered within the Bloodwood at the behest of wild Haern. Weeks prior, the Hunter had tasked the council with preparing a sufficient ritual to beseech seventeen of the enigmatic guardian spirits of Dia'ruis to aid Him in an act of Immortal renewal. With enthusiasm and solemnity alike, Duirani folk set to work organising the ceremony, with many volunteering to make offerings each individual spirit would approve of.

So it was that Valorie, Bhalwyn, Indris, Ixmi, Kerryn, Kurak, Luca, Myrnma, Arista, Sarkis, Sekeres, Sitai, Sysaa, Valeria, Aolin, and the Aslinn mystic known as Senvet gathered together before the lone sapling within the scoured Bloodwood. Alongside Haern, each member of the council left gifts before the tiny tree, ranging from weapons made from powerful foes to raw flesh to burbling fountains of blood. Amidst the offerings, Aolin served as the ceremonial Duirani drummer, her rapid beat accompanying Myrnma's interpretative dance. As the ritual neared its apex, Dia'ruian energy began to manifest, coaxing green growth from the barren soil of the once-Aalen.

Within the haze of verdant energy, gathered councilors beheld the silhouettes of three ancient guardians, their energies and attentions offered for the task ahead. First came the phoenix spirit known as Asheira, whose spectral manifestation sprinkled nourishing ash around the sapling in the wake of her flight. Those living beings awake felt a grand surge of vitality as the Rhythm's brilliant power thrummed in their veins, the mighty lirathyar's influence too much for any living being to resist.

Soon, seasons of growth ensued in mere breaths as the unfathomable totem spirit known as K'y'lee'nn cast the shade of its ethereal boughs across the land. Again did the living feel a surge of might within their veins, Dia'ruian power serenading them with the feral pulse of the Cycle's ceaseless turn. The sapling surges towards the sky in a miraculous progression of explosive growth, its burgeoning size and mysterious foliage sprouting to cast shade across the slowly revitalised area so near to fundamental cataclysm.

In one final surge of awe-inspiring vitality, festering Zk'rell, an ancient myconid, cast its own shadow along the grounds of the once-sapling. Decay brought beauteous fecundity within a mere moment of enigmatic attention, the roots of this mighty arboreal titan burrowed deep within rejuvenated soil. Fruit sprouted upon its boughs, their innards guarded by the hardened shell of blue flesh enclosed. With this spurt of growth came one final yawn of immense power from the lirathyar, its expression inspiring dread and prickling decomposition from those bound to the grave by undeath and blood.

As mystical tension eased and the ceremonial energies dispersed, Duiran discovered that their precious sapling had grown to a mighty size. Hosting the fruit born of fallen Seelis' essence, this single tree now stands as a testament to life's ceaseless, insistent presence within the realm of Sapience.

As Duiran conducted blood ritual and obesiant offerings, the northern theocracy's research team put the final touches upon special issue equipment...

Penned by my hand on Quensday, the 6th of Chakros, in the year 512 MA.