White Dryad

There is no need for words. Through the roots that connect our blood, your intent is already known to us.
Before Kephale created humanity, the White Dryad had already spread across the world.
Unlike your ignorant kind, our reason is deeply rooted in the earth.
Wisdom flows among us like the morning dew. Though we may wither, our seeds carry the promise of renewal.
We remember.
Cerces taught us to unfurl our leaves, to question our very being.
The travelling scholars all fell silent by our questions.
The first sage of the Grove got their revelation from our whispers.
So, are you seeking answers to the godslayer's journey? Then just lend your ear and listen.
Petals fall off, bury in the soil. Death nourishes new life. Failure is never the end.