To the south of Mourner’s Isle lay a continent known as Westola, a continent shared by various powers. To the far southwest of Westola exists a section of land uninhabitable to both human and animal alike, a place dubbed the Land of Passing.

In the Land of Passing, inside the diseased forest of Ankordam, a crouching humanoid creature stared at its reflection in the murky pond water. It gently placed its hand against its face, feeling the strange, barky texture that its skin had. The creature continued to stare at its skin, which even looked like the bark of the forest trees. It had the same strange cracks as the bark, revealing that same strange green light beneath the surface.

The creature turned to face the tree beside him, putting his palm flat against the trunk. He looked at the outline of his hand, just barely discernible from the bark which it so clearly resembled. With a sigh, he lowered his hand, and began resting his forehead against the tree.

“You and I are the same…” he said slowly. “But you are without woe and worry, and I am seen as little more than an instrument of Fate. Why is it that I was cursed with this body?” He snorted suddenly. “Cursed. Of course, it is no curse at all, is it? Just ask any of them, and you’ll know for sure. A blessing, a gift, an obligation… It seems that the line between blessing and curse is far thinner than those who do not suffer under the hand of fate think.”

He sighed. “What am I to do? Am I truly destined to be defined by this and this alone?” he said quietly before listening to the silence of the forest. When no voice came in response, he shook his head slightly, returning to look into the pool of water at his reflection.

After a while, a voice like gravel called out from behind the creature, “Marrock. You would do well to follow the Ancient’s orders. Return to his side.”

The humanoid by the pond slowly lowered its hand and glanced over its shoulder. “Tell me, brother, would you be willing to carry out such an order? Would you be willing to abandon your homeland, your loved ones, and everything you know in seek of the Outside?”

The newcomer hesitated for a moment, the silence gathering in the air like a morning dew. “That is irrelevant. This duty is not mine, this responsibility is yours and yours alone. You are the Green, only you can do this.” The newcomer raised his hand as they spoke, displaying the dull brown color beneath the cracks in its bark. He turned it slowly as if to reveal the absolute absence of the green color that plagued Marrock’s body.

“They keep saying that. Everything is about the Green. I am more than this accursed Lifeblood. You would do well to remember that, Cazzeck.”

“The Prophecy states—”

Marrock clenched his fists as he rose. “Enough! If you so much as mention that infernal nonsense again, I will tear this Lifeblood out with my bare hands.”

“Brother Marrock, please, I simply want what’s best for our people,” Cazzeck said, his hands raised, his palms outwards. “I know that you do not want this Fate, and I am sorry for you, brother. But, this is your duty. Your birthright. It is ordained by Fate, we mortals cannot change that.”

“My destiny is my own, an old treeman’s words are not enough to send me on a fool’s errand.”

“Enough, brother. Let us speak of this no more, else our relations become strained.” Cazzeck waved, as though to dismiss the tension in the air. “I’ve been ordered to bring you back. The time has come for the Ritual.”

Marrock exhaled, the tension leaving him as his shoulders fell. “I see. It’s time again, is it?” He mused under his breath, then turned to face Cazzeck. “Then, Brother Cazzeck, let us be off.”

As the two left, silence enveloped the area. Minutes came and passed. Eventually, the water rippled, and a woman’s face emerged from beneath the surface. Her face was beautiful and as smooth as the water that surrounded it.

“What a pain,” she groaned, in a voice like the creaking of tree branches. “Why is the one necessary pawn so difficult? All of the other creatures are so obedient, what is wrong with this one?” Her beautiful face suddenly twisted horribly. She bared her gnashing teeth, and she furrowed her delicate brows that rested above eyes which suddenly turned bloodshot.

“Hundreds of years have gone into this. All of Mistress’s planning, her cunning plots… I will not let this damned treeman ruin it!”

After speaking, the woman’s face continued to rise from the water, revealing a slender body composed of knots and roots like that of a tree. By the time the woman stopped rising, the soles of her feet were flat on the water’s surface. She began to make her way in the same direction that Marrock and Cazzeck headed in, walking across the water as though it were land.

Just like that, the trip to the encampment of tree-like creatures began for the three of them. Eventually, they would arrive, and the Ritual would begin, for better or worse.