God’s Tree

It stood low to the ground, sleek like a cat but shaped more like a fox, with three eyes and horns of glass. It grazed gently from a patch of glowing moss and didn't react to his approach.

Argolaith stopped and watched.

The creature was peaceful.

It gave off no hostility, only curiosity. One of its eyes turned toward him, glowing faint blue, then it returned to its feeding.

Elyrion was generating more than plants and landscape. It was forming a self-sustaining ecosystem.

Something clicked.

He knelt and sketched the creature, noting its form and the plant it ate. A self-grown realm wouldn't be complete with just trees and sky. It needed life—balanced life. And somehow, Elyrion knew.

He stayed for a few hours, studying more flora and capturing gentle pulses of magic from some of the strange rocks lining the hills.

They shimmered with slow, radiating mana—perfect for building structures that could resonate with the realm's flow.

Eventually, he circled back toward the grove. The path he took passed over a quiet stream, where he paused to refill a canteen and eat some preserved bread and salted beast meat.

The silence wasn't lonely.

It was calm.

Whole.

When he returned to the grove, the stone arch was exactly where he left it. Still silent. Still pulsing faintly beneath the moss. He stood there for a while, watching it as twilight fell across Elyrion's sky.

He didn't activate it.

Not yet.

But soon.

Argolaith stood before the stone arch a while longer, eyes flickering with curiosity.

But after a deep breath, he stepped away. He had come to explore, not to be distracted by old ruins.

He turned back to the forest, letting the echo of magical silence fade behind him.

The trees ahead were taller now, their leaves shimmering faintly like glass touched by starlight.

A soft wind carried the scent of blooming herbs, unfamiliar yet oddly soothing.

As he continued, the terrain shifted.

The thick canopy opened in places, revealing scattered glades filled with glowing flowers.

Some of the blooms floated gently above the ground, untethered by roots.

He knelt beside one and reached out.

The petals quivered, releasing a faint chime—no pollen, no danger, just an unusual greeting.

Argolaith smiled and carefully stored one in a crystal jar from his storage ring.

A few minutes later, he heard the rush of water.

Pushing through a curtain of vines, he found a waterfall cascading down a high cliff wall.

It spilled into a pond, the surface calm and reflective like a mirror of the sky.

No frogs here, but something stirred under the surface.

A school of fish-like creatures glided just beneath, translucent and outlined with mana.

Argolaith watched, his mind whirring with ideas.

Could these be farmed?

Could Elyrion support an ecosystem more advanced than he'd imagined?

The thought made him more excited than he expected.

He continued his journey along the edge of the water, shoes brushing through moss that glowed dimly with his steps.

Trees shifted in color here—some pale blue, others like fire frozen in wood.

And overhead, the twin stars of Elyrion moved slowly across the artificial sky.

He paused for a moment to take it in.

The realm he created was vast and beautiful, even to him.

And there was still so much of it left to see.

Further ahead, he found patches of tall, red grass swaying even without wind.

Small creatures darted between the blades—too fast to see clearly.

But they left behind tiny footprints that pulsed briefly with magic.

Argolaith crouched and touched one.

The sensation was strange—tingly and warm, like the echo of life itself.

It made him wonder again just how far Elyrion could grow on its own.

He took a short break under a massive mushroom that served as a natural umbrella.

From his storage ring, he pulled out some dried Saint Beast jerky and a fruit elixir.

The simplicity of the meal was welcome.

As he chewed, he glanced at the trees surrounding him.

He couldn't see his cabin anymore—he had walked far.

But the realm still felt like his. Safe. Inviting.

Once he finished eating, he stood and resumed his path.

The forest began to thin again, opening to a wide valley below.

From this height, he could see rivers cutting through the land like silver threads.

He smiled and whispered to himself,"This place really is alive."

The frogs, the fish, the magic in the air—it was all starting to grow.

He made his way down the slope, boots sliding slightly on mossy rocks.

At the base, the forest took on a cooler tone—blues and silvers, quiet and still.

No wind here, just the distant echo of mana moving through the earth.

For a long while, he walked in silence.

Not because he had nothing to think about, but because he wanted to listen.

Elyrion spoke in its own way, and Argolaith was starting to understand it.

Eventually, he reached another clearing.

This one had a single glowing tree in its center, its branches bending toward the sky.

Argolaith didn't approach right away.

He sat down on a nearby rock and simply watched it.

He could feel no threat from it—only warmth.

The frogs would've liked it here.

With the day slowly winding down, he decided this would be his next campsite.

He brought out his compact tent, set it beside the glowing tree, and checked his supplies.

Everything was in order.

Before sleeping, he inscribed a few basic runes for safety.

Just enough to alert him if anything approached.

He didn't expect trouble, but habit demanded caution.

As he lay down and closed his eyes, the realm remained quiet.

A soft hum from the tree lulled him into sleep.

And Elyrion kept watch.

Argolaith walked in silence, the moss beneath his boots soft as velvet. The trees around him shimmered faintly with ambient mana, their leaves pulsing like they breathed.

He paused near a gentle brook, kneeling beside it. The water sparkled unnaturally, almost crystalline, yet when he dipped his fingers in, it felt refreshingly cold and familiar.

His thoughts wandered to the boundaries of Elyrion. How could something he created stretch this far without him defining it?

It didn't make sense. He had shaped the terrain near his cabin, designed the stars, placed the frogs—but the rest had… just been there.

Could the cube have pulled from his subconscious? Or had Elyrion simply evolved on its own?

He pressed his palm to a tree. The bark was smooth but hummed with energy. Not just mana—something deeper, almost like intent.

Argolaith began to walk again, deeper into the unknown. Each step took him farther from his known territory and closer to the untouched wilds of his own creation.

Bird-like cries echoed in the distance, though he hadn't added birds to Elyrion. He stopped and listened, trying to identify the sound.

They came again. Faint, high-pitched, vanishing as quickly as they came. Were they real creatures—or just the realm's way of mimicking life?

He came upon a grove of trees taller than anything near his cabin. Their trunks were twisted, spiraling upward like natural spires.

In the center of the grove stood a single flower glowing faintly blue. It opened as he approached, as if responding to his presence.

He studied the flower closely, then gently plucked it and placed it in a sealed vial. Whatever it was, it didn't exist anywhere else.

As he walked on, Argolaith noticed the air had changed. It was denser now, heavier with magical charge.

His cube began to respond slightly, its surface rippling once as if recognizing the latent energy in the air. He didn't summon it, but it stirred anyway.

There was a moment where he considered turning back. But the curiosity—his curiosity—was stronger.

He thought back to the old books he had read on realm theory. Most pocket realms were small, limited, artificial. Elyrion… didn't feel that way at all.

It felt alive.

And worse, or maybe better, it felt endless.

He stopped by a ridge where a ledge gave him view of what lay ahead. Valleys, rivers, clusters of glowing mushrooms, and the faint glint of something crystalline far to the east.

It was beautiful—and terrifying.

What if Elyrion wasn't a pocket realm anymore? What if the energy used to make it had connected with something greater, something ancient?

He exhaled slowly. No use jumping to conclusions. The best way forward was still… forward.

He made a mental note to start mapping his journey. It might take weeks, maybe longer, to catalog even a fraction of what this place held.

The frogs would be fine, he had left the rune array strong enough. And the cabin would be waiting when he returned.

For now, Argolaith smiled faintly to himself, brushing a vine aside as he stepped into a new region of the realm—one untouched even by his thoughts.

There were no answers here.

Just the promise of them.

And so he continues walking on his journey to find new things in Elyrion