Keepers of the Grove

CS106B Fall 24-25 | Trees

Snowflakes descend from the sky, melting into droplets as they land on your face. The silence of a winter night envelops you as you gaze towards the stars. You stand still, yearning to be entranced by your senses. A night like this calms the soul, and carries the wish of a cozy spot next to crackling firewood. But this night doesn’t bring any peace or wishes to mind. Its silence is deathly quiet, and it clutches at your throat. As you look down from the sky, you open your mouth to say anything, anything at all. No sound comes out. Before your eyes, frost claws at the last peaks of the world.

The 54th world begins its collapse. Thick layers of permafrost shift and cause tectonic collisions underneath the ground. A violent crack sends shockwaves rippling through the earth. You break from your paralysis and into a sprint; you must reach the tree. The frost has almost gnawed through its colossal trunk, yet the tree’s twisting branches still stretch out as if screaming for help. You gasp in the frozen air as you run faster and faster, preparing to launch yourself into the glowing hole at the base of the tree. The brief flash of a world’s death only allows a moment for entry.

A burst of green light blinds you as you fall into the abyss. The cold below is sharper, cutting into your bones with an unforgiving chill. Your breaths grow shallow and the edges of your consciousness begin to blur. Your eyes close against your will as the cold pulls you under.

Hours pass. Then, warmth flickers on your face. Your eyes flutter open to a soft orange glow breaking through the darkness above. You pull yourself out of the glowing chasm and stand at the edge, your breath catching as the vast expanse of the Grove unfolds before you. It is the interdimensional heart that holds together the balance of worlds. For reasons unknown to you, the Keepers who tended to the trees of the Grove have vanished, causing it to fall into disarray and chaos.

The limbs of the trees droop down as the icicles accumulate on their branches. The frost hungers for what remains. You are among the last who have not given up. Can you restore balance to the worlds?