Zolgrich leaned back slightly. "Every soul has five trees."
The silence that followed was complete.
Even Kaelred didn't speak.
The lich continued, slow and measured.
"Not all find them. Fewer still understand what they are. But they call, even if the call is never heard. When you follow them, when you prove yourself… they reveal what has always been inside you. Not magic. Not strength. But identity."
Argolaith felt it in his chest—the pulsing echo of the second tree's lifeblood, stored within his ring, dormant but watching.
Zolgrich's gaze never left him. "You have followed two. That is rare. Dangerous. But not unprecedented."
Then Zolgrich's voice shifted, deepening, and the room seemed to grow heavier.
"But the trees were not always what they are now. In the beginning, they were roots of potential. Empty vessels. Until… the gods intervened."
The chamber darkened. The green flames in Zolgrich's eyes flared slightly.
