Sylthauren, The World Tree of Aigusyl
At the heart of the cosmos, unseen by mortal eyes and unfelt by the uninitiated, stands Sylthauren, The World Tree of Aigusyl—a metaphysical Titan, older than time, whose roots anchor the Material Plane and whose branches pierce every other plane of existence. It is not a tree in the physical sense—though ancient oaks, elder pines, and hollow birches are said to echo its shape—but a living concept, a spiritual constant, a divine architecture around which all the threads of reality are spun.
Sylthauren does not stand in any one place, nor does it exist within a single plane. Instead, it weaves through the cosmos like a binding root—its presence felt in dreams, in moments of powerful spiritual clarity, and in the thin places between worlds. Some sages describe it as a lattice of luminous roots, glowing in the Astral Sea. Others claim it is seen only in reflections, glimpsed in still water at dawn, or in the center of ancient runic circles when the veil thins. The truth is that the tree does not abide by truth as mortals understand it.
Each branch of Sylthauren reaches toward a different realm—the Spirit Realm, The Shadowfell, The Feywild, the Elemental Planes, The Plane of Dreams, even the far and alien reaches beyond the Leviathans’ abyss. Its roots entwine the bones of the Material Plane, anchoring Aigusyl’s soul to all that exists, binding the divine, the mortal, and the forgotten in a single, endless breath. When the gods war, when planar rifts tremble open, or when mortals tamper with the weave, it is Sylthauren that groans first—its pain echoing through spiritual awakenings and natural disasters alike.
Direct interaction with the World Tree is impossible for most. Only those who bear a Sylthmark—a spiritual scar or divine brand granted by ancient rites, bloodline, or sacred covenant—may perceive its form clearly. Others may touch it only through special equipment: dreamforged instruments, spirit-threaded staffs, aether-bound relics crafted from materials lost to time. Even then, the risk of madness or spiritual unraveling is great. Sylthauren is too vast, too alive, too true.
Some ancient orders and rare druids serve as Keepers of the Fray, spiritual guardians who commune with Sylthauren in meditative trances, interpreting its shifts to detect planar disturbances or divine imbalances. These keepers often pass down fragmented songs, bark-runes, or seed-visions containing glimpses of the World Tree’s memory. It is said that if Sylthauren ever dies, all planes will collapse inward like rotted fruit, the threads of existence snapping in a final, echoing silence.
But so long as Sylthauren endures—growing in thought, in dream, in the space between each breath—so too does Aigusyl. So too do the gods, the spirits, the Fey, and even the echoes of the dead. It is not worshipped, for it is beyond reverence. It is not seen, for it is felt. It is the unspoken axis of the world—the Root of All Realms.
- Acheron
- Aigusyl
- Arborea
- Arcadia
- Astral Plane
- Bytopia
- Carceri
- Elemental Plane of Air
- Elemental Plane of Earth
- Elemental Plane of Fire
- Elemental Plane of Water
- Elysium
- Ethereal Plane
- Gehenna
- Hades
- Limbo
- Mechanus
- Mount Celestia
- Pandemonium
- Spirit Realm
- The Abyss
- The Beastlands
- The Feywild
- The Nine Hells
- The Outlands
- The Plane of Dreams
- The Shadowfell
- Ysgard
