Faonari was a sucker for mysteries. She didn’t like to admit it, in case she found herself pigeonholed as a sellsword detective instead of a true adventurer. But a sucker she was, and that was how she found herself cursing under her breath as she stepped through the arched doorway and into the amber lit Abby of Erathii.

A long swirling desk ran through the central core of the tree's massive trunk, and a complex network of spiral staircases led up to countless different carved nooks and crannies in the branches that sprang forth from the trunk. Each one of those vast limbs was filled with hundreds of ancient tomes. 

A light crowd mingled in a space for arcane research, scribes young and old figuring out the mysteries of the weave. It surprised her a little to see somewhere that was more reminiscent of the kinds of institutionalized learning she grew up around in Kahrabar. The last time she was in Demini her focus was more on drinking meliscotch and foiling the plans of a minor cult that had made a base in a local orchard.

Scanning the scholars from her spot in the entry hall, Faonari couldn’t see any with particularly vibrant green eyes like the letter had mentioned, but she didn’t let that put her off. Perhaps they were simply waiting somewhere a little more private. That would make sense, why deliver the letter in secret, only to then stand in the middle of a crowd. 

But the tree was huge, and it would be a nearly impossible task to scout the entire place. It didn’t fit her expectations at all. Why send her on a chase like this? A time sink to make her more invested in the job? She was loath to admit how successful that would be, already she felt the nagging compulsion to figure things out. Maybe she was missing something. Faonari frowned and opened the letter back up for another read.

Your reality is not as it appears. In the place where amber grows, find the one with emerald eyes and probe her depths, for truth can be found where all things lie.

Where all things lie could refer to a physical location in Old Reverie, Fao theorized. It wasn’t much of a lead, but it was as good as any place to start, so she made her way up one of the spiraling staircases that led towards a tree branch. 

The hollowed-out interior of the large piece of core wood was dedicated to texts on the divinationary mapping of the continents. What’s more, it was high enough up that it could grant her a good vantage point to oversee the library proper. 

“Careful step!” 

Halfway down a passageway, a squeaky little voice chirped out from below her feet on the landing, and the elven adventurer took a startled jostle back. The source of the voice was a tiny bundle of wooden kindle shavings that glowed faintly, wobbling down the hallway as a unified being headed in the opposite direction. A persistent fellow, it was clearly one of the resident spirit creatures that lived within the pages of the books that made up the extensive collection.

Most everything that was loved had a little spirit of one form or another that came into being as its patron or protector. Books of significant adoration or prestige were certainly not an exception. Rarely did the little ones talk though, typically expressing themselves in more mute and pointed actions.

Fao looked down, and made eye contact with the cluster of life. “Sorry, little spirit! I’ll be sure to watch where I step.”

It sparkled and squeaked with indignation. “Hmph, you better! I’m realllll loved around here!”

Thoroughly embarrassed, Faonari carefully made her way up to the top of the section and began to wander through the aisles of maps and logs, scrying details that transcribed the shapes of coastal towns and waterways. The few other people in the branch were clearly absorbed in their works, and the elf was close to giving up when she turned a corner and found herself face to face with an elderly testurali. 

Standing a proud four feet tall, she had green skin, a long wrinkled neck and a wide grand shell that bore more than a passing resemblance to a humanoid turtle. The testurali put on a pair of glasses that were hanging from a gold chain, and smiled up at Faonari.

“Oh, goodness! An adventurer on a mission if I’ve ever seen one. May I help you, dearie?”

Faonari held the letter out, relieved to see a friendly face. “Hello! Did you send me this by any chance? I’m trying to find the person who dropped this on my table last night.”

The reptile’s brow ridge furrowed, then gently she smiled. “No I didn’t, but it is certainly a curious artifact! I’m not sure I’ve seen you here in my hallowed halls before. Miriam Hollyhock, senior clerical librarian.”

“Oh.” Faonari tried not to show her disappointment, realizing that she was still working without any leads. “Nice to meet you Miss Hollyhock, I’m Faonari, or you can call me Fao. Just in town for a little while.”

“That letter is indeed fascinating though! It is written on very rare paper, and almost certainly made from ugasi trees. You haven’t… signed anything, have you? Or had anyone write anything on you?”

Now both of them were curious, it seemed.

“Signed anything? No, I don’t think so. Why?” She pressed the paper against her thumb and rubbed it in a circle, feeling the fine texture of the smooth material. Worry crossed her mind. She tried to remember if she’d ever seen anything quite like it before. Faint implacable memories with an oily touch the surface of her consciousness. Spellbooks perhaps had similar texture, that was the closest thing she could think of. But it wasn’t quite the same soft cellulose.

“Ugasi trees grow in the Spiritrealm. The wild arcane lands that press against the fabric of our reality, yes yes! On very rare occasion one or two of them will take seed and sprout in the places where that barrier wears thin. But now I’m rambling, apologies youngling! Perhaps you might find what you’re looking for in the wider realms study branch?”

“How strange… old magic tree paper… hmm. Thank you Miss Hollyhock. I’ll have a look in wider realms.”

And so she took off. The journey there was easy enough, down two flights of stairs and up another, taking care to avoid other patrons and the spirits that used the same passages for whatever it was spirits did. The adventurer saw those amber windows from the other side now, sunlight filtering inwards. It all just made her more curious.

The wider realms section was overshadowed by a massive planetarium model, gold rings with miniature representations of Reverie’s material reality and other realms, elysium and the nine hells and little bubble domains all pressed around each other, floating in the air and moving slowly under a self sustaining enchantment.

There were no patrons or guests or librarians in the area, just the faint tingling sparkles of arcana bound and pressed into the pages of books. If the answer was here, it wasn’t in the form of a person she was supposed to find.

Faonari approached a shelf and began looking through the books for information on the Spiritrealm. Perhaps there was some clue to be found in the paper itself.

Several thickly bound tomes found their ways onto the table, selected almost at random. She flicked through pages that talked of ancient wars, gods of magic and time fighting for the fates of reality, and the veil that separated the highest of powers from interfering in the goings on of mortals. She read of magicks used to shape perception and bubbles where the world was almost the same as the one she knew, but tilted slightly in strange and exotic ways.

Then, at the end of a section, tucked between two dusty old spellbooks, Faonari found the text that would change her life forever.

On the front cover of the leather-bound book, a set of emerald eyes glittered with a knowing warmth. It was entrancing, as if the object itself was smiling at her. There was no title listed on the front, and flipping it over she saw no description on the spine either.

“Oh Erathii, what do you have in store for me,” she mumbled to herself.

With only a moment of hesitation, she opened the book. Nothing. Another page. Another chapter. Flick, flick, flick. What, no. She felt the frustration rise in her chest. The accursed tome was completely blank, every page just another sheet of blank paper. She tried tilting it upside down. Nothing. She held it up to a glowing orb of light. Nothing. She tried burning a page with a flick of lightning. Nothing, nothing nothing. 

Finally, in utter frustration, she slammed it down on the table. The spine hit the wood and the covers lay flat, and the pages spilled open. Over the course of a minute, those pages began to fill with color and lines. She felt foolish as the riddle clicked into place. It had said in the letter that truth can be found where all things lie.

All things lie… on their back.  

“That’s kind of silly," she resigned out loud to nobody in particular. “I prefer to lie on my side.”

Once the pages were filled, Fao turned to the next, and watched with curiosity as the page popped up into a three dimensional image. There in the center bursting out was a beautiful woman, in a curvy silhouette with a cluster of flowers and trees all around her. Her body was dressed in little cutouts of jewelry and not much else. 

The next page popped up. It looked like a small town, with a large cathedral near the back. A long slender dragon curled around the cathedral, and it moved under an arcane enchantment as if it was a spirit itself.

She flipped through, text about an age long ago when the dragon gods lived with the people of Reverie. It was all things that she had learned in her youngest academies. For a moment she wondered if this was somehow an elaborate joke from her adventuring guild. They knew that she didn’t read all that much, maybe they had tricked her into reading a children’s book?

Another set of double pages, and this one showed a curious site. A line of villagers excited to provide offerings to the god. And in the top right corner of the page, that same beautiful woman silhouette with a grin cut into the paper.

It was interesting, but not strictly relevant. Going through the next couple parts, she saw one of the villagers walking hand in hand with the woman, out of the town. 

Later, the tall woman had a quill. For a while, the book diverged into historical logs. Records about missing persons and offerings made for knowledge. Discussions on the balance of the world. Pleas and hubris, frustration over the obstinate gods.

Another big double pager showed a massive crowd greeting a group who proudly held the quill. Then, something that made Faonari blush bright red. The villager was decorated in an elaborate outfit, and the silhouette with the wicked grin was lifting her up into the air so they could passionately kiss. 

The dress was being taken off piece by piece. This definitely wasn’t a children’s book. Streaks of glittering gold paint ran between the two, symbolizing some tether that flowed from one to the other. 

The villager looked upon the silhouette with adoring reverence. And then, her face began to smile too, and on the next page she was depicted as a silhouette as well. The smaller visage that was once a villager looked out upon the town, and turned away. The tall one had her by the hand. Spirits seemed to dance across the margins of the pages in little doodles.

Finally, the book with the emerald eyes seemed to reach something of keen interest to her, for reasons more than just her flustered gay heart. The villager and the woman were walking through a forest until they reached a glade with a canopy of Ugasi trees.

All throughout Reverie there are points where the realms are thin like tissue. One such place was documented within the Bitter Feld. A fountain spring fragile to the influences of the spiritworld.

She watched as a line drew itself along the page, and she realized as it curled towards the enchanted illustration that it was a ley line of sorts, marking the path to the strange spring.

It was a bad idea. It was a foolish reckless plan to head out into the forest at the beck and call of a mysterious letter, without any backup. But it was her bad idea, and as she weighed the scales like Manis, she found her curiosity outweighed her preservation. She wanted answers, and now she knew where to find them.