You descend into the valley, where very old trees stand side by side, their trunk's bark thick, almost wrinkled, some looking like faces. As you step onto the soft ground, covered with moss and foliage, you wonder how long it has been since someone walked here. The canopy is thick overhead, and a pale gloom surrounds you, lit by phosphorescent fungi and glow flies. You somehow know what you are looking for - a curtain of willow thirty feet high sways gently in the breeze. You are not sure if it will be safe to enter, but despite this thought you step inside, all of you, without discussion. Are you still in control of your actions?

The willows part to make way for you, and you enter a starlit glade. Within, great limbs of surrounding trees reach out to cover the area, making a shaded dome where thousands of pinprick shafts of light caress a solitary ancient tree. There are not many things left in this world that can take the breath from you, but the haunting beauty of the Mother's sanctum is one of them. You tread the soft grass of the glade, following paths of wild flowers that lead to the base of the tree. As you do, it strikes you that there are no guards here, as though Mother need not fear anything that could find her here.