A rush of stars and blinding, swirling lights consumed Eleos's vision. He shouted the entire way, the pain similar to that of a trapped nerve, but it ran through his entire body while he remained unable to move. It was like a dentist scraping plaque from your teeth and causing your gums to bleed, but being told not to move while you writhe in agony. A maddening experience that lasted for hours before, like a rubber band, his soul contracted and landed in its new host.
The Smiling Tree of Wishes, a withering husk with falling branches, burned bark, and a hole the size of a house in its trunk, glowed as Eleos's soul arrived. It contracted, shrinking from the height of several skyscrapers down to at most the size of a five-story building, perhaps sixty meters. The trees that once bore the fruits of smiling faces morphed into budding gold, sapphire, and crimson petals and blooms. Its trunk, once gray and blackened, now shimmered with white bark, different from when he had resided in Eleos Forest.
Yet around this tree, the land remained the same: dead soil, bodies of corrupted creatures blanketing the ground like leaves in fall, and heaps where some had tried to survive afterward, fighting but dying to the strongest survivor. The mounds of flesh where corrupted dragons had threatened to be birthed dotted the landscape, now deflated into mushy flesh pools after the loss of their master. Many showed signs of consumption from survivors: lifeless dragon heads poking out, half-eaten corpses, and large chunks of their fleshy shells torn open.
The one light, the one tree with colors of life that had once left this land, was now Eleos and the soil surrounding him, in a perfect circle, already showed seedlings poking through.
Eleos, groaning, his golden soul shaking from the traumatic experience, finally came to his senses.
"What happened... That was painful."
It took only a moment to realize, looking around, that this was not his home. No wildlife that he adored despite the boredom, no waterfall or river nearby, or any presence of living life. He looked around in horror and fear, muttering, "What happened here?"
His mind raced, thinking back to Myra and Ira. "Did their god forcibly move me?"
'Yes,' a voice echoed in his mind, soft and sympathetic. 'I'm sorry, Eleos. I didn't mean for it to happen this way...'
"Who are you?!" Eleos shouted in alarm. "Are you our god or theirs?!"
'I am both. I allowed you to save your family decades ago when you were slain, and I saved her family when the goblins- green-skins- attacked her people.'
"Send me back! I want to be with my family!" Eleos's soul flew around his tree as he pleaded. "Please! I was so close to convincing them! They would've had a safe home under my protection."
'Safe, so long as they did not encounter outsiders like Myra, the elf, and Ira, the primordial dragon, who even you couldn't defeat.'
"I would've had the strength to protect them! My family would've been safe! If you sent Myra and Ira, you could've called them away too and nothing would've happened!"
'They were the wrong people to send. That was my mistake. But they spoke the truth. Look around.'
Eleos's gaze wandered the fields of corpses, burned trees, and dead landscape again. Unease rippled through him as his eyes rested on a corpse with bloodstained eyes and bones jutting out unnaturally.
'This was the result of my lack of observation. These creatures, their deformities and malice, are a result of the Smiling Tree's corruption. It was sucking in souls across the world and consuming them without empathy.'
"I know this. I felt it after saving many souls. Why did it take you so long to act?"
'Another disaster had my attention. I do not have the power to detect and prevent everything- not yet.'
Eleos would've frowned if he had a face. 'God doesn't have the power? But didn't he create everything? Wouldn't he have felt some kind of disturbance if souls were being pulled across the lands?'
As his questioning thoughts brewed, the voice returned with a sigh. 'Without a being to control the flow of souls in this world, they will soon begin to rise from the dead as creatures like these, or worse. When your parents die of old age, they might rise and begin to slaughter their children and kin.'
"No way," Eleos shouted. "They would never do that!"
'They wouldn't have a choice.'
"So..." Eleos's soul shook with anger and despair. "Because you failed to see this threat, you're taking me- forcibly- to fix your mistake?"
'Whether I saw it today or two hundred years ago, the result would have been the same. There must be a being that controls the cycle after life.'
His branches curled and unfurled, crimson petals flying in resonance with his emotions, dotting the blackened soil and fresh greenery emerging around him.
'Your soul has been transferred,' God's voice echoed through Eleos's frustration. 'Some of your powers have transferred with you, and you have also absorbed from the Smiling Tree's dead husk. They shouldn't be too unfamiliar. You should be able to sense the souls of the dead beyond your domain.'
Eleos's gaze flickered outward. He felt it. His vision changed to reveal what appeared to be infinite threads of crimson energy stretching across the lands- no, the world.
'I would ask that you change that crimson mana into what you are familiar with. And with time, you should be able to heal this land.'
Though he couldn't grit his teeth, Eleos muttered, voice low and angry, "And my family? What of them?"
Silence lingered before God finally answered. '...Your family will be protected to the best of my ability. And my ability grows with you. Once a century, I will bring them to your home-'
"No, once a decade," Eleos snapped. "If I'm cleaning up your mess, I want to see my family more and know they're doing well."
His gaze narrowed. "Use your priests to bring them here if needed. Otherwise, I will not serve you. Nor will I serve if I discover my family has been harmed."
'...Your family will be safe. I will speak with the priests to make this arrangement.'
Bitter and unhappy, Eleos flicked between his modes of vision. His energy still pulsed outward, mapping the war-torn landscape with gradient colors, but now he also had a new vision that allowed him to see the strings pulling souls and the types of souls.
One such, already floating toward him, was glowing golden. It was similar to the massive creature- no, it was exactly like that creature's soul. And there were many more: smaller, dimmer, or fractured. Damaged souls from the corrupted dead drifted slowly toward him.
"There is plenty of room for growth, but this also feels...wrong," Eleos muttered.
'Look beneath yourself, into your roots. You will discover more and the ability to return souls to the world. Evil, you may destroy. Good, you may give a second chance.'
"That's too much power. I don't want or need any of this."
'Yet it is now yours. Control yourself, control this power, and the world will become a better place for everyone.'
"It's too much, but..." images of his family returned. "I will do it. So long as you keep your word."
'Thank you. Please keep An-Ki's souls safe.'
"Tsk. Sure."
---------------------------------------------
It didn't take long for Eleos to figure out how to return the current benign red mana to the soft, blue hue of the world's mana. Shortly after, he also discovered that he could merge the Primordial souls with parts of his root system.
Strangely, it didn't take much convincing. They believed they had failed in life but could still serve their Sky-God- or as Eleos revealed, all their gods- in this new manner. Faithful zealots to an almost unsettling degree, connected to his root system, shared his subconscious beliefs of good and evil. Due to their lack of strength, however, their capabilities and ability to speak were greatly hindered, resulting in very choppy speech.
Compared to his time in Eleos Forest, progress was extremely fast. His domain was rapidly expanding, and by the time of the first Weaver War, he would have half of the northern landmass under his control. There was plenty of nutrients, plenty of essence, though it would never be nearly enough.
Most of it was damaged or destroyed. Even with the land that entered his expanding domain, most remained barren and scarred. The Primordials and dragons had done a thorough job roasting the corrupted beings across the entire landmass. Some had survived, as had a few uncorrupted creatures, but it would still be a long time before the land could be fully restored. Eleos also noticed a small cache of knowledge to create creatures of the past, but it uneased him too much to start playing with that power just yet.
"Well, estimates put him at multiple centuries to gain full control of the northern landmass again. Perhaps millennia, due to the lack of creatures living there. This doesn't even include bringing extinct species back to life, if he decides to toy with those options."
Atlas mused, looking over the data surrounding Eleos's growth. It resembled a logarithmic curve, massively leveling off once he consumed all of the nearby corpses and lingering souls.
"One problem solved," Atlas sighed, standing up from his CDIM console and stretching with a groan. "That was tiring. I need to nap or something."
"If you give me permission to wake you, you may nap, Weaver Atlas."
Eyeing Wisp, it was mildly annoying to hear her say that—but she was right. He couldn't risk sleeping again for another decade, or longer. The Weaver Gathering, and potentially his first Weaver War, were drawing near.
Atlas nodded. "Wake me soon. Thank you."
"Rest well, Weaver Atlas. When you awake, I will have information for you regarding the Weaver Gathering and the Weaver War."
"Thank you."