A year later, all eight Primordials stood before the tree, and they observed it in silence for a while.

At first, the faces of the Primordials on the leaves of the tree were flickering; it stayed for a moment before vanishing, but as time passed, this began to change as the tree under the gaze of eight Primordials began to grow stronger.

The faces of the Primordial beings began to grow steady on their leaves, and their trunk grew thicker and more resplendent.

For a long time, no one spoke until Circe finally burst into joyous laughter. Out of every Primordial here, she saw the beauty of this creation in ways that the others could never see.

"Look at us," she said, wiping a spark from her eye. "We're standing in a place that shouldn't exist, and before a tree that has never been seen in any Existence before this one."

Mira stepped forward, barefoot, hair trailing embers. She placed her hand on the trunk, and the countless leaves on the tree shuddered.

Whispering words of encouragement to the tree, she fed it tiny amounts of her essence, and she stepped back.

The tree vibrated and began to shed many of its mirror-like leaves, but new ones took their place, and they gleamed like flames.

Then a particularly large leaf still held by one of its massive stems descended until it was directly in front of Mira, and she saw… herself.

But it was not as she was now, a Primordial, but as she had been, a girl with fire in her veins, slowly figuring out how her future could be, and beside her was a boy with white hair and silver eyes whose head was buried in a magus tome.

Mira smiled, "Thank you," she whispered to the tree. This memory was one that she had forgotten, but the tree had pierced through the shroud of time and memory and brought it out from her essence.

This sight drew the attention of all the Primordials, who collectively drew in a deep breath.

Vraegar, who stood beside Staff, blinked at this unexpected result,

"Do you want to try? Perhaps you might see my brother again," he said.

Staff smiled. "I will wait. Memories can be a distraction, especially pleasant ones, but I will still try; some memories are worth every price."

Thenos stood apart from the rest, his brows furrowed as he looked at the tree and its leaves that showed his face in a way he had never seen before.

Walking forward, he touched the trunk and gave it a part of his essence.

Leaves began to fall like rain, but the tree was stronger now than ever before, and it did not take long for a new leaf to descend in front of Thenos, and it showed him victories… but they were empty.

He saw crowns beyond counting and cheering crowds, but these were glory without warmth, not the same as what he had found here in the Origin Realms.

Thenos closed his eyes.

"I used to think winning was enough. What an empty life I would have lived if I had not been selected by him," he said.

Eva placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You are one of us now, and your past no longer matters, only the future."

The Primordials here gasped when Telmus walked forward and knelt before the tree, and looked up at it as he placed a palm against its trunk. "Ah, the first child of defiance is born, and it's a fucking tree."

Understanding Telmus words, the tree vibrated, and a leaf holding the face of Eos appeared before them, but this face held an arrogant smirk that made everyone go speechless, and an awkward silence descended on the group.

Circe broke the silence.

"So," she said, grinning. "Who wants to name this tree? It is the first of the true Creation to spring from our Origin, even though it may have more pride than sense."

Mira laughed.

"I vote 'Rowan's Pride.' These Realms were born from Rowan's sacrifice, and this child could be seen as the first of its kind, and that face…" she pointed, "looks a lot more like Rowan than Lord Eos."

Vraegar snorted smoke. "Too humble."

Thenos spoke quietly. "Call it 'The Tenth Dawn.'"

They looked at him, and he shrugged.

"It fits. There is a story behind this name that Eos would appreciate."

Eva smiled. "Then it's settled. We shall call the tree the Tenth Dawn."

Telmus coughed, "You know, as the first realm to create a life, I should have been the one to name it."

"No, it should have been me to name it," Vraegar spoke up suddenly, "Plus I am the eldest. As the eldest—"

"You're not the eldest," Eva interrupted. "You just have the most dramatic entrances. There's a difference."

Vraegar blinked. "I have gravitas."

"You have a tail," Circe muttered.

"I have presence," Vraegar insisted, swirling his tail for emphasis. The motion sent a gust of defiant wind that nearly knocked Thenos over.

Thenos caught himself, sighed the sigh of a man who had seen every possible outcome of this conversation and still ended up here, and said: "If we're done discussing his tail, perhaps we should start copying its Origin markers and begin applying it to our realm. The more time we spend here, the more likely it's name may be changed into something embarrassing. Like 'Circe's Snack Bar'."

Circe gasped theatrically. "Excuse me, my snacks are art."

"They're charcoal," Vraegar muttered. "You should have stuck to making wines; snacks are not your thing."

"They're charred with love," Circe corrected.

Sheba, the Castle of Algorth, spoke then, her voice echoing gently from every direction at once, as though the realm itself was speaking through her.

"I like 'The Tenth Dawn,'" she said. "It feels… hopeful."

She walked up to the tree and patted it gently, as her voice echoed from every direction. "Welcome home," she said with great seriousness.

This drew laughter from everyone, even Telmus and Thenos. Sheba had a weird understanding of life that stuck with her even as a Primordial. Maybe it was because her true form was a living castle that she identified more with life forms that were mostly stationary.

Mira, who was still looking at the memories of the past reflected on the leaves of the tree, shrugged.

"He'd like that," she said quietly, her eyes on Andar alone. "He always said dawn was the only honest part of the day. Everything else could lie. But dawn… dawn just is."

Vraegar lowered his head. "Father would have hated how dramatic we're being," he rumbled. "He'd probably tell us to stop posing and start building something useful."

Thenos snorted, the closest thing to a laugh anyone had ever heard from him. "He'd be right."

Eva waved her hand, sending small streams of essence into the tree. "Then let's do both," she said. "Let's name it The Tenth Dawn. And then let's make sure it means something."

She turned to the nameless child.

"You're the last one born and the youngest. You get veto power."

The child blinked, and everyone stared at him. He looked down at his hands, then up at the tree, then at the faces reflected in the leaves.

He smiled, "The Tenth Dawn," he said. No one argued.

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