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The parasite crawled along the tree towards a world bathed in petals. Its body left a trail of slime into the blossom’s heart, where the worm nested and began to suck away the spirits of men.
It fed, draining courage, determination, and essence from the people of that world. I waited, expecting to see bodies drop, lifeless, all over the planet. I saw something worse.
The men grew bloated. I saw them sit back in their castles, gorging themselves on the surrounding opulence until they were four, five times their normal size. The larger they grew, the more their own flesh smothered them, as if they were becoming worms themselves.
Petals closed, sealing the planet inside. They hardened and bulged until the blossom had morphed into a giant fruit that swayed, overripe, on its stem. All over the tree, I saw the same: flowers invaded, men engorged, blossoms distended into pulsing globes.
I sickened with despair. This was no trial. This produced no refinement of the spirit. The men on these worlds had no chance of overcoming. They could only stagnate until the end of time.
I lifted my eyes to Valor. Untouched, it still sent its beacon out into the darkness. Would no help come?
As if in response to my thoughts, the shining world flared even more brightly. Beams flooded the surrounding branches. Everywhere the light touched, buds sprang forth from the tree. I saw them grow, unfold leaves, and blossom into tiny, fragile world-flowers.
These new worlds were free of worms. But when I looked closer, I saw they were small and blighted. No lush forests. No mountains or oceans. Only scorched earth. Burnt trees. Barren land.
Hostile landscapes. And yet...
Compared to the hanging fruit consumed by opulence, the fresh blossoms felt clean and spare. I saw them and I thought of purification. Of refining fire. They were worlds where a spirit could rise to great heights. They were perfect playing fields for a Time of Trials.
As I woke, the voice echoed once more in my mind. "The shadow draws near. Look for the Scholar."
