Against the sunset gaze of a fading horizon and upward through the skies along the seaside cliffs in a place far from here lies the remnants of the world tree. Stretching endlessly into the heavens above, it is a magnificent sight despite the feeling that it is a faint memory of better days as the light of day shines down upon the withered husk where life itself once bloomed.

Upon each branch and every tendril is a mark of mystery shrouded in old glory despite the calamity of the past. Soaring past this somber remembrance of grandeur and higher toward the answer to our curiosity reveals the crown of the land’s former emerald king. Day fades to night as the ocean breeze rustles through the forlorn canopy and the answer begins to unravel as the view of the farthest branch closes in.

In the silence of the dark night, there is only a glimmer of hope sparked by a flicker of silver light at the tip of this lone branch jutting over the sea as if extending its long carried weight out of death’s grasp. In between the gleam and glow, the shape of a leaf begins to take hold in the radiance of this blossoming symbol of life.

Slowly but surely in a process that lasts through most of the night, the formation of the world tree’s descendant in the form of this ancient leaf has become its living legacy. As the morning light pierces through the darkness, perhaps it is by fate or coincidence that life has succeeded despite the wreath of death around it. With one touch by the sun, the silver leaf falls from its throne and drifts off into the morning sky.

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Across the wind and subtle sea, there is a leaf drifting aimlessly. Far from here and far from there, the journey is one with no planned destination. Upon the tail of this summer gale where time and space themselves appear to be non-existent, one can see the lives of thousands unfold. Carried past innumerable lands of wonder, great mountains and many nations the silver leaf rides upon the mount of wanderlust.

The ages pass by no discernible stretch of time but before long the wind begins to slow down as the journey reaches its conclusion. Circling over glades of viridian paradise that are laced with vermilion blossoms of every shade, the silver leaf lands into the palm of a young girl. Beaming with delight and a smile from ear to ear, she twirls into the air with the leaf perched between her fingertips as a cascade of silver sparkles and light dances all around her.

As the carousal stops after a few minutes of joyful gaiety, the young girl strolls to the center of the sacred glade and kneels as she places the silver leaf upon a mound of soil and watches as the magic comes to life once more. With a quick flash of light that drives the girl to shield her eyes, the leaf transforms into the object of a silver sapling.

Between her fingers, the young girl can only stare in awe as the sapling begins to grow and the land around her begins to glow with such vibrant colors that she has never seen before. Before her very eyes, she gazes upward as the sapling grows with alarming speed into the sky as the revelation reveals that the world tree has been reborn.