Queen Qing Ling knelt in the black basalt dust, her slender shoulders shaking with ancient grief.
In her trembling hands, she cradled the cracked stone basin.
Inside the basin, the six-inch Ancestral Life-Spirit World-Tree Sapling was taking its final, agonizing breaths.
The three rusted iron taps driven deep into its heartwood had oxidized the delicate core fibers. The wood was black as chimney soot, oozing thick, tar-like drops of dead resin. The two remaining leaves curled into brittle brown husks, ready to snap and turn to dust in the rising draft.
Three thousand spirit-elf children knelt behind their queen in the gravel, their emerald eyes overflowing with tears.
For ten thousand years, the Ancestral Life-Spirit World-Tree had been the cosmic lung of the Western Continent.
In ancient times, its towering canopy shaded three provinces. Its deep roots filtered heavy minerals from subterranean rivers, keeping the soil fertile and sweet. Its golden autumn pollen granted longevity and disease immunity to every living creature within a thousand leagues.
When Emperor Ji Wudao and the corrupt Ministry of War conquered the Silver-Leaf Glade twenty years ago, they did not see a sacred cosmic entity. They saw luxury timber.
