Aldoursaea: A Journey Within

Chapter III: The Forest of Treewors

Arch continued along the path leading him through the legendary Towering Trees Forest, known by locals as "Treewors"-a lighthearted pun on the towering, straight-standing hardwoods that rose like sentinels around him. These trees, with their swift-growing and durable wood, were a vital resource for the Empire, and the rhythmic sounds of axes and saws echoed from the forest's edges as craftsmen harvested the timber.

The Heroes' Road, or "Heroad" as locals called it, stretched nearly thirty - two oakspans through the heart of Treewors, a narrow, well-trodden artery of the Empire. The road, wide enough for three horses to walk abreast, was lined with crystal lanterns-enchanted to cast a steady glow through the forest gloom. Each lantern operated on mana, regularly replenished by ministry mages to ensure their light didn't wane. Yet, as Arch noticed, several of the lanterns had dimmed, their mana drained and left unreplenished due to the Ministry of Public Utility's struggle to keep up with maintenance. Bandits and fast-growing trees made it difficult to reach and repair many sections, and roots had even broken through parts of the road, leaving patches of uneven ground.

Moving through the subtle twilight cast by the faintly glowing lanterns, Arch advanced cautiously, his hand resting on his sword hilt. He was a lone figure on Heroad, but he was no stranger to shadows-moving like one himself as he pressed onward, alert to any hint of movement among the trees. Arch moved swiftly along Heroad, his footsteps sure and unhesitant. Covering long distances on foot was second nature to him-his muscles carried him forward with the rhythm of someone who had spent more time on the road than in his own bed. Yet, as the towering hardwoods of Treewors rose around him, casting dappled shadows over the path, he found himself distracted, his mind turning over the strange mysteries of the forest.

Treewors was no ordinary woodland. Its trees, known across the Empire for their unique and rapid growth, seemed to almost defy the natural order. Carpenters and craftsmen flocked here for the quality and abundance of wood, yet even their relentless harvesting efforts never thinned Treewors for long. Within a few years, the forest appeared as dense and undisturbed as if no axe had ever touched it. To some, it was a blessing-a forest that gave without limit. To others, it was an enigma.

Arch had heard many theories about the forest's unusual vitality, each as wild and speculative as the next. Now, as he moved deeper into its heart, he couldn't help but entertain a few theories of his own. Perhaps Treewors was the work of an ancient mage-some powerful soul who had embedded enchantments into the very roots of the forest, making it grow unnaturally fast. Arch imagined some figure from centuries past, shaping the forest's future with spells lost to the pages of history, the kind of magic he might never fully understand.

Yet, he couldn't ignore another possibility: perhaps the trees themselves were special, their seeds carrying something older, even primordial. He'd heard tales of seeds from distant lands that could thrive under almost any conditions, and he wondered if Treewors might be home to one such species, brought to the Empire long ago by travelers whose stories had since faded.

Then there was the land itself. Treewors stood on soil unlike any he'd seen, rich and dark with nutrients. He knelt down, brushing his fingers against the forest floor, feeling the cool earth. It was soft, almost damp, as if it held an endless reserve of moisture and sustenance. "Maybe it's simply the soil," he muttered to himself, considering the notion that something deep in the earth nourished the trees with unusual potency, creating an ecosystem that seemed almost self-sustaining. It wouldn't be the first time the Empire had discovered land with peculiar properties; the provinces were vast, and each held its own share of strange wonders.

Or perhaps it was none of these things. Maybe the answer was as mundane as effective fertilizers used by local farmers, a practice so routine it had become invisible to those who lived around it.