The name itself feels like a sigh, doesn't it? Segos. It wasn't a word found in any recognized lexicon of the Sylvani, the ancient people who first cultivated these trees. It was a resonance, a feeling distilled from the slow, deliberate growth of the wood, the rustle of its leaves, and the deep, almost subsonic hum that emanates from them when the air is still and the moon is full.
147 Cycles Before the Stillness
The first recorded encounter with the Segos appears in the fragmentary journals of Lyra, a cartographer of the Obsidian Order. She described them as ‘stone-hearts breathing,’ a phrase that has haunted the Order for centuries. Her maps, etched onto obsidian plates, depict vast groves of these trees, arranged in patterns that defy Euclidean geometry— spirals that seem to pull at the stars, circles that suggest pathways to other dimensions.
“The patterns… they shift. Not visibly, but… felt. Like a dissonance in the bone.” - Lyra, Cartographer
The Segos aren’t simply trees. They are anchors. They generate what the Sylvani called ‘Resonance Fields,’ zones of heightened sensory perception and, occasionally, temporal distortion. Within these fields, time flows differently. Moments can stretch into eons, and memories bleed into the present. The Order discovered this accidentally, during a particularly aggressive excavation attempt in the 382nd Cycle. Their equipment malfunctioned, readings spiked, and then… silence. When they returned, three days had passed, but the team reported experiencing fragmented recollections of events that hadn’t yet occurred.
382 Cycles Before the Stillness
The core of the Resonance Field is located deep within the tree’s heartwood, a dense, purple substance known as ‘Chronium’. The Chronium reacts to psychic energy, amplifying it and creating the distortions. It’s theorized that the Sylvani used Chronium to communicate across vast distances, perhaps even to manipulate time itself. We’ve found evidence of complex rituals involving the Chronium, including intricate carvings depicting celestial alignments and what appear to be… echoes of music. A dissonant, unsettling music that seems to bypass the conscious mind and burrow directly into the soul.
“The Chronium… it remembers. It remembers everything. And it wants to show you.” - Master Silas, Order Archivist
The Sylvani didn’t ‘farm’ the Segos. They fostered them. They understood that the trees weren’t meant to be controlled, but nurtured. They built their cities around the groves, designing structures that harmonized with the Resonance Fields. Their architecture is characterized by flowing lines, organic shapes, and an almost unsettling sense of serenity. They seemed to exist in a state of perpetual contemplation, lost in the subtle rhythms of the trees.
718 Cycles Before the Stillness
Their disappearance remains a mystery. There's no record of a violent conflict, no sign of mass exodus. They simply vanished, leaving behind their cities, their technology, and the Segos. Some theories suggest they ascended, using the trees to transcend the limitations of their physical forms. Others believe they were consumed by the Resonance Fields themselves, their consciousness absorbed into the collective memory of the trees.
“We are the echoes. The Segos are our voices.” - A salvaged Sylvani inscription
The Obsidian Order, founded centuries after the Sylvani’s disappearance, dedicated itself to understanding the Segos. They viewed them as both a threat and a key to unlocking unimaginable power. Their research has been fraught with peril, marked by madness, disappearances, and the unsettling feeling of being watched. The Order’s obsession with the Segos has driven them to the brink of self-destruction. They believe that by mastering the Resonance Fields, they can achieve immortality, reshape reality, and ultimately, dominate the universe.
1237 Cycles Before the Stillness
Currently, the Order maintains a heavily fortified research facility within the largest Segos grove. They employ a technique called ‘Chronal Synchronization,’ which involves exposing themselves to the Resonance Field for extended periods, hoping to gain insight into the past and future. The results, as you might imagine, are… unreliable. The echoes of the past are distorted, fragmented, and often terrifying. The Order’s scientists are increasingly exhibiting symptoms of temporal psychosis. The Segos are whispering, and they don’t want to be heard.
“Silence. Listen. The trees know. And they will judge.” - A recurring message relayed through Chronal Synchronization