Once upon a time, long before the Tree of Life known as Yggdrasil grew beyond time and space, there was another tree—a divine beacon rooted deep in the heart of the Norse lands. Its great branches stretched toward the heavens, its roots whispered to the earth below, and its leaves shimmered with an ethereal glow. The Norse people called it the Heart Tree, a symbol of life, balance, and protection for their world. They worshipped it not as a god but as a bridge between realms, believing it safeguarded the balance of all things.
But then came the swords, the torches, and the march of a foreign king who sought to make the tree—and the people who revered it—a lesson.
King Arthur of Camelot had marched north in the name of conquest. His knights, loyal and fearless, fought valiantly, cutting through the Norse defenses with unparalleled precision. This campaign, he declared, was to establish dominance, to show the world that even the gods themselves could not withstand Camelot's might.
The Heart Tree stood at the center of their sacred lands, its presence undeniable even to Arthur. Its towering form dwarfed the surrounding forest, its glow faint but constant, as if it were alive. When Arthur's knights came upon it, they hesitated. Even the bravest among them faltered, their swords trembling in their hands.
But not Arthur. He saw the tree not as a sacred relic, but as a threat. To leave it standing would be to leave his enemies a beacon of hope. Drawing Caliburn, he approached the Heart Tree with purpose.
"Cut it down," he commanded, his voice ringing out over the still forest.
His knights hesitated. Sir Gawain, ever the voice of caution, stepped forward. "My king, this is not just a tree. They say it binds the realms—"
"It binds nothing," Arthur interrupted, his tone sharp. "It is a symbol of their defiance. If we are to claim victory, there can be no symbols left to inspire rebellion."
With a single, decisive swing, Arthur struck the Heart Tree. Caliburn's blade, forged in magic, severed the bark with ease. The tree groaned as though alive, its leaves shuddering. A deep rumble echoed through the earth, sending shockwaves that made the knights stagger. The sky above darkened, as if the very heavens wept.
But when the final blow was struck, the Heart Tree fell, its branches breaking with a thunderous crash. For a moment, the world stood still. Then, just as suddenly, the light returned, and the air grew calm once more.
Arthur stood over the fallen tree, caliburn in hand, and declared, "Let this be a warning. There is no power greater than Camelot."
The night of their victory was one of celebration. Arthur and his knights feasted around roaring fires, drinking deeply to honor their conquest. The Norse lands lay broken, their people subdued, and the Heart Tree—a symbol of their defiance—was reduced to ash.
But as the hours wore on, and the revelry turned to drunken boasts, a quiet figure approached the king's tent. She was an older woman, her face lined with age and wisdom, draped in dark, tattered robes. In one hand, she carried a worn leather satchel; in the other, a deck of tarot cards.
"My king," she said, her voice smooth yet firm, cutting through the haze of the firelight. "Do you wish to see your future?"
Arthur chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "I have no need for riddles, old woman. The future is mine to shape."
"And yet," she said, "even kings cannot escape fate."
The knights murmured uneasily, their laughter fading. Arthur, intrigued despite himself, gestured for her to continue. "Show me, then," he said. "What does fate have in store for the King of Camelot?"
The fortune teller laid her cards on a small table, her hands moving with practiced precision. One by one, she revealed them, her expression darkening with each turn.
"The Tower," she said, her voice low. "A kingdom will crumble."
Arthur's smile faltered, but he said nothing as she continued.
"The Betrayer," she intoned, revealing the next card. "A son born outside your sight will rise against you."
A murmur swept through the knights. Arthur's jaw tightened, but he forced a laugh. "You speak of bastards and betrayal? I am a king. Such threats are beneath me."
The woman ignored him, flipping the final card. It showed a skeletal figure holding a scythe.
"Death," she whispered. "It will come for you at the hands of your own blood. And with it, Camelot shall fall."
The silence was deafening. Even the flames seemed to dim as Arthur stared at the cards. His knights shifted uneasily, their earlier bravado extinguished by the weight of the prophecy.
Arthur stood abruptly, his hand resting on the hilt of caliburn. "Begone, old woman. I shape my destiny, not the whims of superstition."
The fortune teller gathered her cards, her eyes never leaving Arthur's. "You have spilled sacred blood and cut the root of balance," she said. "Your deeds will echo through eternity, and your blood will pay the price."
With that, she disappeared into the night, leaving Arthur and his knights in uneasy silence.
The next morning, Arthur dismissed the woman's words as nonsense, though they lingered in the back of his mind. As they prepared to march back to Camelot, he noticed the land itself seemed… different. The trees were bare, their leaves brittle and lifeless. The air was heavy, and the animals that had once filled the forests with their calls were silent.
When they reached the borders of Camelot, they were met with strange news: crops had withered inexplicably, and the skies had darkened for days on end. Rumors of unnatural shadows and strange sounds began to circulate.
Arthur brushed these tales aside, focusing instead on the victory they had achieved. But deep within him, a seed of doubt had taken root—a seed that whispered of betrayal, ruin, and a curse he could not outrun.
with Arthur standing at the parapets of Camelot, staring out over his kingdom as the sun sets behind the horizon. His face is hard, his hand gripping the hilt of caliburn tightly.
Unseen by him, deep beneath the soil where the Heart Tree once stood, a faint golden light begins to pulse, growing stronger with each beat.
The balance is broken. The price has yet to be paid.