The clouds overhead shifted into countless shapes. A powerful wind blew in from the east, sculpting them into a vast stampede of beasts that somehow appeared both majestic and charming.
The howls of nature spirits traveled upon the wind like a distant song from some forgotten wilderness.
The song continued to echo without end.
An hour later, Skyl narrowed his eyes and gazed toward the farthest edge of the horizon.
"They're here."
Powerful convection currents had formed an immense bank of low clouds that surged forward like a tsunami across the sky. Beneath them flew enormous flocks of countless bird species, each arranged into a V-shaped formation as they rode the strong winds toward the Cimarine Isles.
"What are all those birds coming here for?" Stan asked thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.
"They may be coming to fertilize the island," Doric said quietly. "When I trained with the druids in Neverwinter Wood, restoring a damaged ecosystem required animals to bring in seeds and fertilizer."
Skyl's expression stiffened.
"You mean all those birds are coming here to take a dump?"
Doric gave him an embarrassed smile and nodded.
"Raise a protective barrier, now!"
The echoes of the nature spirits enveloped the deserted island.
The four elemental forces turned like the gears of time, eroding the hard stone and weathering it into black gravel. The gravel continued to crumble until it became fine parent material from which soil could form.
Flocks of shorebirds and inland birds swept in from the east, south, and north. They released a rain of droppings mixed with seeds, covering the island's mountains and plains beneath a foul-smelling white blanket.
"Damn, this whole operation looks like Hell," Stan said, covering his nose.
Although they were all safely inside the barrier and the air around them remained clean, the sight of walls splattered with filth and manure raining from the sky was still nauseating enough to turn his stomach.
Watching the flocks whirl overhead and the island turn white, Skyl suddenly remembered an island on Earth.
"Stan, have you ever heard of Nauru?"
"Of what?"
"Nauru. It's a small island in the Pacific Ocean. Countless seabirds stopped there during their migrations and left behind enormous amounts of guano. The phosphate in bird droppings is excellent raw material for fertilizer, and the local population became wealthy by selling phosphate ore."
"Oh, now I understand. But no matter how pleasantly you explain it, you still won't convince me that this looks beautiful."
"The cycle of nature has never consisted solely of beautiful scenery," Doric said solemnly. "Fruit must rot before its seeds can sprout. Animals die so that more animals may grow. A wildfire burns through a forest, and the following year, even more saplings emerge. The filthier this island becomes now, the more beautiful it will be in the future."
Skyl and Stan looked at one another in silence.
"What's wrong? Was anything I said incorrect?"
"Not at all. You're absolutely right."
Stan smiled. With the handsome blond-haired, blue-eyed appearance of his avatar, he bore a certain resemblance to Captain America, and his smile looked exceptionally sincere.
The birds arrived quickly and departed just as fast. Like a formation of bombers, they scattered plant seeds and manure across the island before catching a reverse wind and dispersing in every direction.
Birds possessed keen instincts.
They knew it was about to rain.
Thunder rolled through the late-autumn sky, and a refreshing, icy downpour swept across the island.
The rainwater was rich in the magic of the wilderness. It soaked and softened the weathered stone, allowing organic matter to combine with the soil's parent material. Tempered by the cycle of the four elements, it transformed into fertile black earth.
Seeds carried from the mainland had fallen with the birds' droppings. The heavy rain buried them in the soil, and they immediately began to germinate and grow at astonishing speed.
Skyl reduced the barrier around the mountaintop, allowing the Silver Tree to bathe in the rain as well.
The dim silver surface of the sapling became as bright as a mirror beneath the falling water. Its branches remained perfectly still, while the scattered candle flames within its crown were entirely unaffected by the wind and rain. Beneath the gloomy sky, they shone like tiny clusters of radiant light.
Grass and shrubs soon covered the formerly barren island.
The spiritual song of the nature spirits shifted gradually, passing from one movement to another like a symphony. The vigorous dance of summer gave way to the solemn melody of autumn.
The downpour abruptly ended.
A frost-laden wind immediately swept across the island, turning the vegetation yellow and withered in moments. The water seeped deep underground, while the once-fertile soil, drained of nutrients by the accelerated growth of grass and trees, became dry and compacted.
A wildfire ignited and burned away all the vegetation, leaving the hills and plains buried beneath black ash.
The cycle repeated again and again. Every stage of natural succession accumulated more biomass upon the island.
When the second rain arrived, towering perennial trees began to grow. When the third rain fell, the abundance of natural energy attracted fey creatures from the Outer Planes, who teleported to the island and settled there.
As Skyl watched the transformation unfolding before him, he gained a deeper understanding of the druidic path.
"Time is accelerating before our eyes. The flow of time in this universe is propelled by the cycle of the four fundamental elements. What a wild cosmological structure."
He nodded with delight at this unexpected discovery, then suddenly turned toward Doric.
"Would you like to learn temporal magic?"
"Temporal magic? Isn't that something only wizards can understand?"
"Wizards developed temporal magic by studying how the universe operates. Truth does not favor one person over another merely because their professions or paths are different. Druids possess a natural affinity for the four elemental forces. In a sense, you are better suited than most spellcasters to study the foundations of space and time."
Skyl paused before adding, "Of course, that only applies to worlds connected to the four Elemental Planes."
Doric shook her head.
Most druids were conservative to some degree. Even when tempted by tremendous power, they could preserve their simple and natural way of thinking.
"I would rather live in the wilderness with a wolf pack than spend my days reading inside a study."
"Fair enough. Everyone has their own ambitions."
Skyl felt no disappointment. Knowledge might tempt the scholars of Candlekeep, but some people regarded it as little more than rotten wood.
Everyone deserved to choose their own way of living. They did not all need to pursue power.
The nature spirits' transformation of the deserted island was nearly complete.
After the final downpour, the formerly barren wilderness was covered in green grass and flourishing vegetation. Dense forests spread across the hills, their canopies rising and falling like waves whenever the wind blew through them.
Some of the nature spirits settled permanently upon the island, becoming invisible guardian spirits that protected the divine tree at the summit.
Nourished by the island's natural energy, the Silver Tree suddenly shot upward. It was now twice the height of a person, and four hands were needed to encircle its trunk.
From this day forward, the tree would grow one inch taller every day. Its roots would continue penetrating deeper into the Weave, gradually spreading beyond the Prime Material Plane and throughout the multiverse.
Each time the Silver Tree connected to a new plane, it would be nourished by an entirely different form of energy.
As a prospective god of Law bound to the divine tree, Skyl could clearly sense the Silver Tree's surging vitality.
A faint divine spark had begun gestating within its trunk.
At Skyl's command, the divinity within the Silver Tree traveled upward through the main trunk and entered the highest primary branch, where it merged with the candle flame representing Skyl himself.
"Whoosh!"
He felt as though a star had exploded inside his chest.
All his senses surged to their absolute limits. Violent joy, agony, sorrow, fury, jealousy, contentment, and affection mingled together before becoming a chaotic mist lodged in his throat.
Every nerve ending in his body overflowed with intense bioelectricity. His vision became a field of blinding white as his soul passed through the membrane covering the material world and sank into the deeper layers of the Weave.
For a single instant, he felt himself sinking and ascending simultaneously.
As his affinity for magic increased dramatically, his inspiration broke through the limits of mortality.
The warlock Skyl felt the earth beneath his feet receding.
Part of his existence crossed through the Ethereal Plane and sank into the Inner Planes of the multiverse. He traveled through the two Energy Planes and the four Elemental Planes, sensing the cosmic opposition between good and evil as well as the pure origin of matter itself.
Another part of his consciousness ascended into the Astral Plane.
This was the realm of thought, and Skyl's divine will moved through it as naturally as a fish through water. He swept past the Outer Planes, crossing the domains of gods and the lairs of fiends.
Gods and mighty fiends turned their attention toward this unknown divine existence. Some regarded him with hostility, while others watched with benevolent curiosity.
Skyl continued onward, guided by his supernatural senses.
Even when the gazes of the gods became a mire that threatened to trap him, he continued rising.
He passed beyond the Outer Planes and entered the Void.
Matter ceased to exist there, and even the Weave came to an end.
The gods and mighty fiends watched as the divine existence somehow passed through the Void.
The warlock Skyl surfaced on the other side.
His head emerged from the game board resting upon a long table.
He turned his head and looked around, finding his true body, Ao, and Stan Lee seated nearby.
A large pile of food stood before Ao. Skyl's true body had invoked the secret spell [Taco Tuesday] to bribe the Dungeon Master, and Ao had eaten so much that he was choking.
Skyl and "Skyl" stared at each other as though looking into a mirror.
"We're both me. What is there to stare at? Get back down there and start building the flying enclave."
"Give me a portal sigil."
The avatar extended his hand toward his true body.
Skyl extended his own hand in response, and their index fingers touched in midair.
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