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At the heart of Liaheim, near the Tree of Life, a great hawk, slightly smaller than the mighty Angola, soared upward with several elves on its back as it ascended toward the crown of the colossal tree.
It alighted upon a wide platform woven from living boughs. The elves dismounted swiftly. Among them were the captain of the elven guard and his squad, all bearing grave expressions as they made their way toward the only seat of power in Liaheim, nestled within the tree's crown: the Eden Plain.
This garden, known as the Eden Plain, was the closest any living being could reside to the Tree of Life's primordial essence. It was the only space in this peaceful elven city with even a whisper of governance.
Though the elves admitted neither nobles nor commoners—no class nor caste as in the kingdoms of men—they, too, needed some form of a governing body in lieu of spiritual transcendence or a hive mind.
The Eden Plain was exactly that: a sanctuary shaped not by hand, but formed spontaneously by the Tree of Life itself. Its boughs had woven together a miniature world of mountain and valley, stone and stream—a naturally sculpted realm.
The limbs of the Tree of Life had twisted themselves into rocky forms. Through the...
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