Over time, the Worlds of Alaria faded. The Evertree—where many worlds resided on its countless branches—is now nothing more than a sapling, its splendor long erased from memory. No one knows how to make it grow. But you are different. You hear the sun as it sings across the sky. You hear the language of rain against the earth. You are the last of the Everheart Alchemists and it is your ancestral task and privilege to care for the Evertree.