Long ago, in a time when the veil between realms was far thicker than it is now, lived Nyx, a goddess of profound beauty and endless grace. Her domain was the shimmering realm of creation, a place of pure light and ethereal song, far removed from the earthly plains. Yet, her heart yearned for a connection beyond her divine existence.
One fateful night, as she gazed upon the mortal world, her eyes fell upon a magnificent wolf. He was not merely a creature of the forest, but a being of noble spirit and untamed wildness, known simply as The Wolf. Their connection was immediate, a spark igniting across the vast chasm separating their worlds. Nyx, bound by the sacred laws of her realm, could not pierce the mortal veil, and The Wolf, for all his strength, could not ascend to the realm of creation.
Their love became a bittersweet agony. Every full moon, Nyx would draw herself to the thinnest point of the veil, her essence shimmering at the edge of his world. The Wolf, sensing her presence, would howl to the moon, his mournful cries echoing through the forests, a testament to his longing. They would speak across the divide, sharing whispers of their days, dreams of a touch that could never be.
A century passed in this tender torment. Nyx, consumed by her unfulfilled love, began to bleed. Not blood of flesh and bone, but the very essence of her divinity, pure and golden. Every night, for a hundred years, she wept tears of liquid starlight and offered her sacred blood to the earth below. She prayed for death, for reincarnation, for any chance to be reunited with her beloved Wolf in the mortal realm.
But fate, in its infinite wisdom, had a different plan. Her divine blood, seeping into the soil of the mortal world, did not bring about her demise. Instead, it consecrated the ground, imbuing it with unimaginable power. From this sacred earth, nurtured by centuries of spilled divinity, rose the Goddess Tree. Its towering form, with bark the color of moonlight and sap shimmering like captured starlight, was a living testament to Nyx's boundless love and sorrow.
This sacred sap, black as midnight but holding a faint golden shimmer, became a conduit of their longing. For after the hundred years of Nyx's silent sacrifice, something profound shifted. Not only could they hear each other across the veil, but they could now see each other. And for that one day a month, The Wolf, by licking the black sap of the Goddess Tree, would transform into the body of a man, allowing their hands to finally meet across the shimmering divide. For a fleeting day, their ethereal love gained a tangible touch.
The Goddess Tree marked the exact spot where the veil between life and death, between the divine and the mortal, was thinnest—a bridge forged by pure devotion. And so, every full moon, Nyx continued her vigil, visiting the veil to meet with her love, The Wolf, under the protective boughs of the very tree born of her longing. They met there until, in the fullness of time, The Wolf, a mortal creature, succumbed to old age. Yet, the Goddess Tree stands tall to this day, a silent, majestic monument to the enduring, star-crossed love of Nyx and The Wolf.
Does this version feel more complete, weaving in those intimate details of their connection?
Author's note
What do you think about my little tale about the tree of the goddess?