The Tribute

Look up, my child, where the great boughs sweep, Far above the clouds where the Sylphs dare not leap. Its leaves are the sky, yet its trunk is unseen, Bound by the grace of our Porcelain Queen. Long ago the garden was unbroken and bright, Before the False Brother brought ruin and blight. He turned from the sun, and with wicked design, He courted a chill we no longer define. A frost in the earth, a silence so deep— But the Queen found a way for the garden to sleep. Now once in an age, when the blossoms stand still, Three heroes are chosen to carry our will. They walk every road, seeking blessings to share, Until the Great Trunk meets them out of thin air. They climb where the canopy touches the sun, And offer their souls till the journey is done. They give of their anima, pure and unbound, To wake the old roots sleeping deep underground. So thank the Great Queen for the peace that she made, And pray for the Thirty-Third walking the shade. All their travails, their tears, and their laughter, They give not for themselves, but for those who come after.

Centuries ago, there was peace and balance. The World Tree was whole, and its trunk was the center of the world. Its roots supported all the Earth, its boughs formed the sky. From it fruited endless bounty, an everlasting garden of life. But the False Brother, a jealous and bitter spirit, sought to claim the World Tree for himself. He turned from the sun, and with his dark magic, he brought ruin and blight to the garden. The World Tree was broken, its trunk hidden from view, and its roots fell into a deep sleep.

When all seemed lost, our Glorious Queen, in her wisdom and mercy, found a way to preserve the garden. She led the people in a great ritual, and imbued the World Tree with vitality once more, to stave off the frost and the darkness. But the spell would not last forever. Into each generation, three heroes would be chosen: the Tribute. Born each of one of the great Faerie races, they would walk the world, securing the blessing of the other races, and bring the combined will of the Faeries to the trunk of the World Tree, to whose trunk Fate would guide them. There, they would offer their anima, and all they'd been bequeathed, to renew the spell, and keep the garden alive for another age. The Tribute is a sacred duty, and a great honor. It is a calling that few can answer, and fewer still can endure. But those who do, will be remembered for all time, as the ones who kept the garden alive, and the world in balance.

The coming Tribute will the the 33rd.

Rules

A magic ritual is nothing without its rules. And they are well known to all:

• Three must there be, no more and no less.
• Each of the three shall represent a different race of Faerie, and must secure their blessing.
• Once so blessed, they shall appear before the Queen, who inaugurates the ritual, and blesses them with a guiding light that will show them the way.
• Each may ask of the Queen one boon, in exhange for their noble sacrifice. If it is within her power, she will grant it.
• The Queen, in her wisdom, may replace one of the Three with a champion of her choosing, if she deems it necessary. The champion must be of the same race as the one they replace. No one need know her reasoning.
• The other races must bless the Tribute if they are to succeed. They may ask of the Tribute any task they deem sufficient to prove their worth as a prerequisite.
• With the blessing of all Faeries, the Tribute is empowered to find the roots of the World Tree, wherever they may be.
• If one should fall, the others may take up the anima they leave behind, and continue. But woe betide if all three should fall, for the garden will wither, and the world will be lost to darkness.