Echoes of the First Sun

Previously

…The first cut was tentative, a mere scratch on the thick bark. But as he continued, the rhythm of his strokes became more confident, fueled by the knowledge that this was the right path, the path Maeve had guided him towards. He worked until the sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, the forest floor now cloaked in twilight. He had only managed to score the trunk, a deep gash that would need days of patient effort to fell. Exhausted, but with a nascent sense of accomplishment, he returned to the village, the image of the spruce tree etched firmly in his mind, a symbol of the journey ahead. The whispering woods had spoken, and Kaelen had begun to listen.