In the deepest wood, hidden in mist and guarded by trials of mind and soul, stood the First Tree—older than stars, older than language.
Lucky knelt before it.
She placed the Verdant Core at its roots.
And the tree spoke—not in words, but in memories: a thousand years of kindness, sorrow, love, fear, and growth. Every fairy who had ever touched the world whispered through its leaves.
It gave Lucky one final gift: a seed.
Tiny. Glowing. Perfect.
"Plant it," the memory said. "Not in soil. In someone's heart."