The Heartroot had watched him for ages.
Its roots reached across realities, winding through realms where time had no meaning. Stars had died and been reborn. Civilizations had risen, sung their truths, and faded into myth. Countless skies had opened. Countless souls had passed.
But only one soul had climbed this far.
Only one had walked the Stairs of Rebirth without faltering.
Argolaith.
Though he no longer remembered his name—not in the lives he lived, nor in the moment he was born anew with each step—his soul remembered.
And the Heartroot saw it.
Not as memory.
But as evolution.
From the first life in cold steel cities…
To the centuries spent as beast, savior, servant, friend…
From being scorned…
To being worshipped…
To being forgotten…
Each life pressed deeper into his essence.
He had known every shade of love and loss.
He had lived as the oppressed and the ruler, the broken and the healer, the betrayer and the betrayed.
