The tree hadn't disappeared, although that probably would have been less concerning than what Morne encountered.
What once were gorgeous, brilliant branches of stark white light had been tainted, and were now a sinister black that twisted and curved upward and to the sides like the horns of a devil, bereft of leaves.
Its solid, majestic bark was now cracked and pitted, and dark as soot. If one listened closely, one could hear faint screams of agony and despair coming from within the cracks, a window into the deepest pits of hell.
It stretched high into the sky, as tall as the third floor of his Necromancy Tower. Which, when one remembered that his Tower sat on a hill that itself was quite large, was a fairly large size for a tree.
Morne didn't know what to do about this. However, he remained calm.
