There was golden tree, a foot tall and made in the image of the tree of Yggdrasil. A giant snake wrapped around its trunk, and instead of five gates around the base, there were eight. Inscriptions in ancient runes ran out like roots from its base. “What do they say?” “There is one for each Court,” Mazrith murmured as he moved around the pedestal to read them all. “And the other three?” “One for the dwarves… One for the Vanir… and one for the Fenrir.”
