The ever-so-familiar salty depths swirls around your feet as you wade deeper through the water. A friend once followed you in these exact footsteps, but no longer. As you pass through the now-shallow waves, you can't help but feel an icy sensation on your fingertips as they brush through the waves, a their shade a mixture of sapphire and obsidian.
But this is no weird route. You know just where you're going.
Eventually, your destination comes into view.
A majestic tree, some kind of oak you figure, its leaves stretched wide into a perfect spherical crown. The kind of tree to inspire nostalgia even into people who'd never seen a tree before. The kind every young child grows up with, at least in an image in their minds. The magical kind of tree.
You held your hand out to the tree. You weren't sure if you reached out the whole length, or if the tree came forth in response, but you found your palm rested on its earth-golden trunk. Gazing upwards, you saw the branches that made up that perfect sphere.
You couldn't resist. You needed to see what it was like up there.
A million branches, stretching in every direction, a marvellous spider's web of oaken paradise. Sunlight filtered through jade-coloured leaves, which glistened like newly-minted coins.
A voice, behind you.
"Just what do you think you're doing, now?"
You spun your head around, startled. Crouched upon a higher branch was a sort of mystical looking figure, with odd clothing and brass and copper all over her, nearly mechanical. You spied a wand clutched by her hip, made not of wood like the tree but instead lightly-tipped orichalcum, looking nearly like gold.
"This is my home. And I don't remember hanging up a massive sign saying "free entry, cupcakes included". What're you here for?"
You answer in earnest. Not much you can do; she can probably read your mind or some crazy stuff like that. You've seen enough magic to know.
"Right you are, and that's one heck of an imagination you've got there. Some nerve you have coming here."
See? Of course she could read minds. You wondered what her name was, and what the deal was with the tree.
"Seriously, you don't know me? I guess my little schtick really worked after all. Name's Genesis, and you probably know my cousin — he works as a narrator. This tree's my home. It's easier to think of it as my doorstep though."
Before she even finished the last sentence, you were already brimming with questions. This, of course, earned you a prompt side-eye.
"Now don't go thinking you can just interrogate me. This is my home, after all. You've no right to be here, so scram."
She pointed the way down and out. You turned to leave, but then it hit you. You'd come here in search of a story, and you weren't just going to leave this wonderful place simply because some steampunk witch told you to. Not without getting what you came for, at least.
"Alright, fine. If it'll get you to leave. Sit down then."
And so it began, yet another story...