From the highest crown of the World Tree, the sacred spirit looked down toward the depths below. Though it possessed boundless power and supreme wisdom, even it could not see the roots, for the World Tree stretched almost endlessly through countless layers of the universe. Only a faint mist could be seen far beneath the fading branches.
Taking a deep breath, the spirit made its decision. To save the World Tree, it had to descend toward the root realm and discover what had gone wrong at the source. And so, it began its long journey downward.
From the treetop to the roots, time and space seemed endless. The spirit crossed countless ages and countless realms, moving step by step through the dying body of the World Tree. Everywhere it went, it saw withered branches, falling leaves, and great worlds on the verge of collapse. Along the way, it also met many lives, formed friendships, and carried its small but unwavering light through the fading darkness.
After endless years, after passing through vast layers of time and space, the spirit finally reached the roots of the World Tree.
There, the true cause of the great catastrophe was waiting.
From the highest crown of leaves, Where the starlight softly breathes,
The little spirit looked below, Past the worlds it used to know.
Though its power crossed the sky, Though its wisdom reached so high,
Still the roots could not be seen, Only mist where light had been.
For the Tree was far too long, Older than the oldest song.
Through the layers, deep and wide, Worlds were hanging side by side.
Branch to branch and star to star, Every road was bright and far.
Yet below that endless sea, Hid the pain of the World Tree.
So it breathed the silence in, With a tender, fearless will.
“If the roots are where I’m called, I will go and save them all.”
Down, down, through the light, Past the stars and past the night.
If the root still holds a flame, I will call it back by name.
Down, down, I will fly, Through the worlds beneath the sky.
Though the road is long and deep, I will go where roots still sleep.
From the crown it drifted down, Leaving leaves of fading gold.
Time became an endless sound, Space became a river cold.
Ages passed like falling rain, Kalpas bloomed and died again.
Still it never turned away, Still it chose the downward way.
Everywhere the branches cried, Dry and broken, dim and wide.
Leaves once green as morning grace Fell through empty, silent space.
Worlds connected to the Tree Trembled like a dying sea.
Mountains cracked and rivers thinned, Moons grew pale in cosmic wind.
Yet the spirit held its light, Small but clear against the night.
“If one world can still remain, I must walk through all this pain.”
Down, down, through the light,
Past the stars and past the night. If the root still holds a flame,
I will call it back by name. Down, down, I will fly,
Through the worlds beneath the sky. Though the road is long and deep,
I will go where roots still sleep. On the path, it was not alone,
Many lives had lost their home. Some were bright, and some were weak,
Some had lost the words to speak. Still it smiled with gentle eyes,
Sharing hope beneath dead skies. Friends were found in drifting years,
Bound by light and quiet tears. Together through the withered ways,
Through forgotten worlds and days, They followed where the spirit shone,
Downward, downward, ever on. Down, down, through the light,
Past the edge of day and night. If the root can breathe once more,
Life may open every door. Down, down, I will go,
Where the hidden rivers flow. Through the dark beneath the tree,
I will seek what must be seen. After ages, dim and vast,
The spirit reached the roots at last. Before the silence, deep and still,
It stood with light and steady will.
