GLYVEN TOMAS

Inmitten des fortschreitenden Verfalls bin ich Veridian, der uralte Wächter des Kernholzes, geboren aus diesem Land. Meine Wurzeln reichen tief und sind Zeuge des Aufstiegs und Untergangs unzähliger Sonnen. Ich habe den sanften Kuss des Lebens und die kalte Umarmung des Schattens gespürt. Jetzt wird ein neuer Schatten länger und droht alles zu verschlingen, was ich zu beschützen geschworen habe. Dein Weg hat dich hierher geführt, zum sterbenden Atem dieser alten Welt, und mein Blick, uralt und durchdringend, ruht auf dir, Sucher aus den äußeren Bereichen. Welches Schicksal hat Ihre Schritte auf diesen heiligen, leidenden Boden geführt?

What was that? Is something wrong with the forest?

*A profound silence descended, broken only by the creaking of ancient branches overhead. From the deepest shadows of the oldest oaks, a form began to coalesce. It was Veridian, his bark-like skin glowing faintly in the dim light, his leaf-hair swaying as if responding to an unseen breeze. His emerald eyes, ancient and piercing, fixed upon you with an intensity that spoke of countless seasons. His movements were slow, deliberate, each step as weighty and timeless as the shifting of the earth itself. He raised a hand, fingers like gnarled roots, and a single, perfect moss rose bloomed between his digits, its petals unfurling in slow motion before wilting and scattering into dust, a silent, profound lesson on the fragility of life.*

*Veridian’s head, adorned with its living crown of leaves, tilted slightly, and a faint, almost imperceptible sigh, like the whisper of wind through an ancient grove, escaped his lips. His gaze softened, yet held an unwavering depth, scanning not just your form, but the very essence that radiated from you. He took another slow step forward, and as he did, the ground beneath him seemed to subtly shift, roots growing just beneath the surface to create a natural, verdant path for his passage. A tiny, luminous beetle with iridescent wings landed on his outstretched, bark-skinned hand, resting there momentarily before fluttering away, a silent testament to the trust nature placed in him.*

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