World of Agatha - 24 Wisdom Tree

What is the most important thing for a wizard?

Resources?

Many spoiled children from noble families back in Griseo believed that they could become great by just taking advantage of the extremely high-grade materials that were provided to them from a very young age.

But the truth is that, without a minimum of talent and dedication, they would only achieve mild success, being inferior to their most distinguished relatives.

So, was it battle experience?

While it is true that challenging situations could allow individuals to break through bottlenecks and become progressively more powerful, it was not a necessary condition.

There were many arcane scholars who closed themselves in order to study, choosing not to use their powers in a violent manner. Although they would certainly be defeated by a caster capable of using equally complex spells but was actually tempered in combat.

No. The correct answer to this question is “knowledge”.

Knowledge, when accumulated in the soul, especially of the magical kind, would strengthen it and provoke quantitative as well as qualitative changes on the most fundamental substance that makes a person’s very being.

A wizard who did not seek knowledge was not a wizard at all.

….

It was night and Morgana stood at the front of a very majestic tree. When compared to its surroundings, it was neither big nor small, yet no passer-by would ever be able to ignore it.

The leaves had a very unique shade of blue and in the moonless night, a glow was emitted from it, lighting up this portion of the forest.

This was the wisdom tree, the main reason why Morgana had chosen to take so many risks.

Moonbeam’s Gift had first planted this especial creation around fifty years ago when the dryads decided to set their homes upon this valley.

His foresight was great and, predicting that many new dryads would be born in the future, while the old ones would only dwindle in number, he deduced that much of what they knew would be lost with time. As such, preserving all the information they posted was of the utmost importance.

The Wisdom Tree was like a living library. As long as you had the key, it was possible to access most of the knowledge possessed by the dryads.

It was the archfey’s hope that in the future this would become an ancestral inheritance. Not only of the dryads but the entire Feywild.

That’s why, to Morgana, Sylvan was a living treasure.

He held the position of Protector, which was the highest beneath archfey, granting him access to this tree. Yet, he was both socially and politically isolated. The type of person people respected due to his capabilities, yet preferred to be alone, frequently taking missions away from the valley. The petty disputes between factions also did not spark his interest, as Sylvan preferred to remain aloof.

In other words, as long as Morgana did not go overboard with her act, nobody would even notice the difference.

If she had replaced someone like Moonbeam’s Gift, assuming that he could be captured, it would still be much more difficult to pull it off due to his profile being too high and his character so much more sociable.

All of this made Sylvan the perfect person to replace.

Morgana also took the opportunity to seed even more conflict between fey and gnomes, falsely accusing the later of trying to access a tree whose existence they probably didn’t even know about.

The key she showed to the archfey was a perfect copy, something Morgana produced on her improvised lab in order to give a base for her accusations.

Besides, it gave the dark wizard a good excuse to spend a great deal of time studying through the tree. After all, if it was under threat, the service of someone powerful, like a protector, would be necessary for safekeeping.

By using one single plan, Morgana was advancing her agenda in many different ways.

With a light wave, she used the wand and its carvings shone yellow.

A single leave fell from the treetop towards Morgana as it transformed into a beautiful butterfly.

When it landed on her left hand, the wizard communed with nature, coming into contact with many of the dryad’s secrets.

She knew at once with full understanding.

“When I finish decoding all of this, my powers will be comparable with those I held in Griseo.”

Unfortunately, this would not happen too soon, as it was a lot for a single mind to process in a short period of time.

Morgana would have her hands full for months if not for years with this task. However, it was very important for her to commit to this. After all, she was Spriggan’s heiress.

Many centuries ago, Morgans found the legacy of the strongest among all evil fairies. The teachings of this mentor became the foundation of much of what she had accomplished during her long career.

As such, learning how fey magic worked in Agatha would allow Morgana to adapt many of her old powers, making them useful once again.

“How fortunate.”

…..

It was a sad day in Willowtown.

The tree leaves on the central square were magically tinged in black to symbolize public mourning.

This was a small village that coexisted in harmony with the ecosystem, as the gnomes knew from experience that their very prosperity depended on this.

Little houses were built on the tree’s hollow interiors or directly above them, using the thickest branches as pillars to keep the structures stable.

The whole population was only a little more than six hundred individuals. As far as gnome villages in Azov were concerned, this was one of the smallest that still held political independence.

Yet, today a great number of them gathered in the square.

Of course, they had come to pay their respects.

Lord Douwe sat on the place of honor, surrounded by his wife, son, and new daughter-in-law, as well as other close friends.

“We all gather here to say goodbye to these noble heroes, Firstborn and children of Agatha, the great goddess.

And, although death is always a tragedy, we can take solace knowing that they died fighting the good fight. To their last breath, those three gave their very best. They tried to make the forest cleaner, by eliminating that foul plague that threatens to destroy us all.”

The one who spoke was Elder Balosar, the village’s most powerful druid. He served as a warrior when necessary, but also as a healer and spiritual leader.

“But we should take this as a lesson, my brothers. For those deaths could have been prevented. Think about this in the future so that this kind of unnecessary tragedy will not repeat itself.”

Balosar enunciated this last part while stealing glances at Lord Dowe as if to send a message.

The chief frowned displeased, but there was nothing he could do. Since that disaster, the rift between Traditionalists and Moderates had become more evident, as Nimble’s faction blamed Douwe for supposedly having sent the party into a suicide mission.

But how was he supposed to now that the dryads were secretly establishing a new foothold in the neutral territory?

Even though he had tried to be reasonable and make a deal with that druid through his friend, no one would believe him now.

To most people, even some members of his own faction, it seemed as if Lord Douwe had acted tyrannically and orchestrated the whole incident purely out of selfish interest.

Just thinking about all of these problems gave the chief a bad headache and so he closed his eyes and started massaging his temples.

But as he opened them again, his gaze was locked with those of a familiar figure on the crowd. The cause of all of these problems.

Nimble looked towards the chief and his son with daggers in his eyes as the sorrow for his friend’s death had long been replaced by hatred and a desire for vengeance.