The ancient city of Landorei spread out before Ian. The first thing that caught his attention: the gargantuan trees. They stretched upward to heights that put skyscrapers to shame. Their thick foliage no longer blotted out the sky, but allowed plentiful beams of sunlight to pierce through. The way the sunbeams strategically lit the pathways through the city reminded Ian of streetlights back home. Elves drifted along interwoven branch-bridges overhead and through the gardens that dotted the grounds below.

Ian’s attention was pulled to the sculpted gardens that resided in a park-like area. The plants growing there were utterly alien. Their colors ranged from deep blues and vibrant greens, to faint golds and dull silvers. It was like he was standing in the National Art Gallery, gazing upon the brilliant masterpieces hanging on the walls. Except these paintings were crafted with shears and spades, rather than brush and sponge. Each leaf and blossom melding into a canvas that evoked emotions and provoked thought. Every time the wind blew, it changed the entire scene and sent his mind reeling to assimilate all the new details. Impossible, the word kept echoing in his mind as he stood motionless, dumbfounded by its unparalleled splendor. And that was one garden.

He took in the breathtaking cityscape in a slow spin, knowing he could spend a lifetime here and catch only a hint of its true beauty. In the center of everything was a hub of sorts. A colossal Oakalla, at least a thousand feet in diameter, with dozens of branch-bridges extending out in every direction from the trunk.

Vale came up behind him, with Mal, and watched as Ian’s expressions played out. Shock, awe, and a peaceful sense of tranquility were all competing for control over his facial muscles. Ian turned to her stammering, unable to find the words to describe what he was feeling. His hands pointed upwards and then fanned out.

“How- you- what!?” He stammered out as he spun once more on his heels.

Vale turned him back with a touch to his shoulder, a look of pride etched into her features. She always loved coming home. It filled her with a sense of calm and centered her like no other place on Paragore could.

“Come, we still have a way to go,” She said with a relaxed smile. She took off down the center path, leading the way toward the mammoth Oakalla tree.

Mal followed faithfully behind her, but now with a happy wag in his tail. The shadows around him seemed to shift and move with his nimble stride. A reaction that was typical of his breed; the aptly named shadow wolf. Ian hadn’t noticed it before considering the perpetual twilight the forest had been in. He added that to the column of things to ask about later.

“How many elves live here?” Ian asked, switching to a topic he could grasp. His voice sounded harsh in his ears, and he felt like he was unfit to speak in the presence of such artistry.

“Almost two hundred thousand elves call Landorei home. We are heading towards the Heren’elen the heart tree of our city, where The Arcane Seer resides in the highest boughs. Please be mindful of the fact that you are a guest here and be on your best behavior.”

As they drew nearer to the Heren’elen, Ian could make out a darkened hole serving as a doorway into the tree’s interior. Elves, and a handful of humans, drifted in and out of the gaping entrance. Here and there were floating spheres of light with wings.

“Guide Sprites,” Vale answered, before Ian asked, “they help those unfamiliar through the trees labyrinth. They also help the druids to maintain the heart tree.”

Hushed conversations took place around them, and a few children gawked and pointed as they passed through the city. Ian could even swear he heard some giggling, which he ignored. Probably my clothes, he thought. After all, compared to the robes of fine silk and hand-tooled leathers, his cheap ruined suit made him stand out. His height certainly didn’t help matters either. He towered over the elves and even the few humans he saw.

When they passed through the wide entryway leading into the tree, a vast natural stairway greeted Ian. Much like the gardens below, it had clearly been shaped as the tree grew, rather than being carved out. He couldn’t imagine how much time it took to create such a marvel of engineering and horticulture.

The entrance was wide enough to easily fit ten men standing shoulder to shoulder and just as tall. Yet it was merely a speck on the sprawling trunk. Two rows of tiny bioluminescent plants illuminated the wide staircase, one lining the ceiling, and another only a foot above Ian’s head. Each one had a fist-sized bulb hanging from elegantly curved stems and emitted muted golden light. Ian couldn’t resist the urge to poke the shining plant to see if it was warm to the touch.

Vale spoke up when his finger was less than an inch away from the plant. “Please do not touch the light-bulbs, they are very delicate.”

“Light-bulbs?” Ian said with a bit of a chuckle. “I mean, what else would you call a plant that gives off light from its bulb?”

Vale didn’t respond. She began, what Ian would soon find out, was an endless climb into the heart of the tree. By the time they emerged from the center of the tree and onto the branch-bridges Ian’s leg muscles burned. Vale, on the other hand, hadn’t even broken a sweat. She glanced back to find him holding up a hand indicating that he needed a minute to catch his breath. Her eyes took in his sweat-stained clothing and reddened face with a shake of her head.

“Are you going to make it?” She asked with a hint of a tease in her voice.

Ian scowled in response.

Instead of taking him across the bridge, Vale walked a few paces to the left and faced the tree. She reached out with her hand and placed it against the bark near a faint symbol etched into the tree. The symbol flashed a blue in response to her touch. Little wisps of magic flowed into the tree, and with pop, layers of bark peeled away from the tree in thick planks. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster, spiraling upwards around the trunk as it went.

Ian realized it was forming a staircase leading further up the tree. Each stair was made of wide, flat sections of bark supported by nothing more than hope and prayer. Ian should have been more impressed by the magical display. Instead, his curiosity was overshadowed by the thought of having to walk up even more stairs.

Vale mounted the first step as if it were nothing more exciting than a mall escalator and started her ascent.

Ian was staring at the step thinking that if the wind blew hard enough the bark would snap. If she was too inconsiderate to even pause and think about his predicament, then he wasn’t going to feel bad at all when he broke off the first step. After all, they were asking for an accident having stairs going at least twenty stories high with no guard rails…

Mal gave Ian a gentle nudge from behind, urging him up after the retreating figure of his companion.

Fine, Ian thought. He stomped up onto the first stair, waiting for it to collapse beneath him, but nothing happened. He made good and sure that the next step he took was firm, before taking another. And another. Ian looked at the dubious steps, figuring the power of condensation alone was keeping them aloft. Ian cast a glance back at the wolf who was sitting at the foot of the stairs like a sentinel.

Vale’s voice drifted down to him. “Do hurry up.”

Mal let out an encouraging, “Woof”.

Ian gritted his teeth and pushed forward. He had broken into a cold sweat as they climbed higher and higher. He had to remind himself not to look down, lest the distance overwhelm him. At least it’s not windy, Ian thought.

When he was certain that he couldn’t go another step, he finally saw their goal. A landing near the top of the tree trunk where the canopy started to form. There, Vale was leaning against the tree; waiting and watching him with an amused smile.

“What was that all about?” Ian panted out as he finished the climb.

“There is no other way to reach The Seer’s chambers. He resides in the boughs of the Heren’elen. I told you as much before we began our ascent,” Vale said in her normal melodic tone, she wasn’t even phased by their near-vertical climb.

Ian darted into the alcove and let out a sigh of relief as the climb was over and there were walls again.

Vale went to the blank wall and placed her hand against the bark. When she pulled her hand away, a luminous yellow outline of it remained behind in the bark this time. It flashed a bright white and then faded away. At the same time, an ornately carved, rather grandiose door rippled into existence. Vale, unimpressed by any of this process, impatiently grabbed the door’s handle and pushed it open into the tree.

Inside was a hallway, brightly lit with the same small light-bulb plants Ian had seen earlier. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all the unfinished innards of the tree. While it had to be as ancient as the rest of the tree it gave the impression of being brand new. Ian supposed that was the wonder of living wood, everything would always appear at its most vibrant.

Vale stepped through the doorway and gestured for Ian to follow. He quickly caught up to her as she marched down the hallway. And there, tauntingly sat yet another flight of stairs.

“Oh, come on!” Ian let out in an exasperated huff. He begrudgingly took the first step upwards into the core of the tree.