I snapped, taking a step forward, my voice sharp with frustration. "I'm the one who brought you back to life, and this is how you thank me? With rudeness and complaints? You've got a lot of nerve!"
The tree groaned, as if annoyed by my outburst. "What's your problem, girl? I don't owe you anything."
I clenched my fists, feeling the surge of anger intensify. "If you're not going to help me, then maybe I'll just cut you down myself. You'll make good firewood for Master."
I could see a flicker of irritation in the tree's glowing bark, but it only grumbled in response, "Firewood? You're truly going to threaten me with that, girl?"
"Oh, I'm in exactly the position to do so," I retorted, my voice cold, eyes burning with the frustration I felt.
"You... You think you can chop me down so easily?" it muttered, sounding more irked than ever. "You don't even know who you're dealing with."
"πᾶσα πρᾶξίς τε καὶ προαίρεσις ἀγαθοὺ τινὸς ἐφίεσθαι δοκεῖ."
I cast a spell to create an axe, made from earth and iron. I raised the weapon, determined to really cut it down. "I'll make firewood out of you in no time if you keep this up."
The tree sighed dramatically, its voice dropping in tone. "Alright, alright. I get it. No need to get violent."
It was weak to threats.
"Well, if you're so desperate for firewood," the tree continued, "I have a better suggestion. You've revived me, so I owe you something. But I'm not turning myself into firewood. That would be a waste of my power."
I lowered the axe slightly, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What are you talking about?"
The tree's branches creaked as if stretching, and its voice lowered to a more mysterious, almost playful tone. "What if I told you that firewood isn't what you need at all? What if I told you that there's something else I can offer — something far more useful than any pile of wood."
I hesitated, the axe still gripped tightly in my hands, my anger simmering beneath the surface. What is this tree trying to pull now?
I stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What are you saying?" I asked, my voice tight.
The tree groaned, its branches creaking and swaying with a life of their own. "I'm offering you a wand forged from my very own branches. It's no ordinary wand. The magic within it is tied to the heart of this forest, to me. No other wand you could find will compare to its power. You want to move forward, girl? This is your key."
I stood there for a long moment, my thoughts spinning. A wand. The wand, itself, was the key to the next phase? The very idea of it felt too easy, too simple, yet there was something undeniably real about the offer. The tree seemed sure, and the conviction in its voice was hard to ignore.
"And what makes you think I'll just take a wand from you?" I said, the doubt creeping back into my voice.
The tree let out a low, rumbling laugh. "I'm not offering you any ordinary wand. This one is crafted from the same magic that keeps this forest alive. It's not just a tool—it's a conduit of the forest's power. It will be yours, should you choose to accept it. And, I'll admit, you'll need it. For the trials ahead… they'll require more than just your strength. They'll require a connection to this land, to the magic it holds. This wand will give you that."
I looked up at the towering tree, my heart racing. A wand made from the tree's branch? The thought of wielding something so unique, something with the very essence of the forest within it, was both exciting and overwhelming.
The tree seemed to sense my hesitation. "Look, I'm not asking you to accept it blindly. But trust me—there's no better option. You won't find anything like it anywhere else. You'll need it, and it will serve you well. So, what will it be, girl? Do you want to keep threatening me, or do you want to take the tool that will unlock your future?"
The choice was now clear. The wand.
With a final glance at the tree, I nodded, resolving to accept its offer. "Alright," I said, stepping closer. "Give me the wand."
There was a long pause before the tree responded, its branches groaning in what I could only describe as an almost satisfied manner. "Good choice," it rumbled. "Now, hold your hands steady. I'll give you what you seek."
Slowly, one of the tree's larger branches began to shift and bend, the wood creaking and cracking with an eerie elegance. It moved toward me, and I could feel the pulse of ancient magic emanating from it as it drew closer. The air around me seemed to thicken, as if the very forest itself was holding its breath.
Then, with a final, gentle movement, the branch snapped cleanly off, leaving a glowing, intricately carved wand in its place. It shimmered with a pale green light, the veins of magic running through it like the blood of the forest itself.
I reached out, my fingers brushing against the cool wood. The moment my skin made contact, a surge of energy coursed through me—raw, untamed, and powerful. It was like the forest itself was alive inside the wand, a living connection that thrummed through my veins.
"This is your wand," the tree said quietly, its tone softening just slightly. "Take it, and remember—only by using it with the forest's will can you hope to succeed in the trials ahead."
I gripped the wand tightly, feeling its power settle into my hands. There was no turning back now. The next phase awaited, and with the wand, I felt ready to face whatever challenge lay ahead.
"Thank you," I muttered, though it felt strange to speak those words to such a grumpy, reluctant entity. Still, the tree had given me something invaluable, something that no other wand could match.
"But there's something else on my mind," I said, my gaze fixed on the wand in my hand. "If this wand is part of you, does that mean I can still communicate with you, even when I'm not physically here, standing in front of you?" I asked, my voice laced with both curiosity and caution.
"That's an interesting question, girl," it said, its tone less gruff than before, more reflective. "You're right—this wand is a part of me. And that means, in a way, you and I are connected now. But don't get any funny ideas about using me for conversation whenever you please."
"And there's one more thing," I said, carefully choosing my words. "I don't want anyone to know I was the one who revived the World Tree. Can you keep that secret?"
"Yeah, sure, sure. Now go back," it replied, its voice dismissive.
I never wanted attention.
Suddenly, the World Tree in front of me began to distort, its form flickering like a fading illusion. Before it completely vanished, I heard its voice one last time:
"You'll remember everything soon. The answers will be revealed."
Its tone was gentle, a stark contrast to when it had been awakened. Then, as the tree faded, it laughed softly, "You never change."
***
The words lingered in the air, and I stood there, trying to process what had just happened. Something deep within me stirred, and I knew that this was far from over.