One season the Phantasmoon waxes full, one season the mortal world shifts anew: The mysterious girl reappears in Planarcadia!
Fallen petals scatter with ease, and her stay was but a fleeting instant. Everything about this new era enthralls her, and she will not allow anyone to bring it to ruin…
A single ruler blade judges right from wrong, but who can say how much good or evil lies within oneself?

At first, the ancient tree in the hidden courtyard simply listened in solitude.

It heard its gnarled roots spreading beneath the earth, heard its lush branches unfurling in the wind, heard infinite life surging into the newborn world, only to fall back upon the nameless land.
It paid little mind. To it, these lives were but fleeting visitors who would wither and bloom in an instant, like raindrops returning to the soil.

But the Nameless Place returned to silence. Visitors from beyond the sky and travelers from distant lands paused here, by chance or by fate. The tremors carried through branch and leaf grew ever stronger, and even without looking upon them directly, their voices traveled along the tangled roots.

They gave the land a name and called it home. They thanked it, through ancient games and rituals that sealed death and the wilderness forever within the abyss.
In those beautiful legends, when the moon was full, the spirit of the sacred tree would take the shape of a mischievous maiden, and visit the dreams of the devout to grant their wishes.
Through these repeating rites, it began to wonder: What is laughter? What is sorrow? Why do people sing? Why do they weep? Why do some leave and never return? And why do younger lives always appear, stubbornly taking their roots here?

Then, calamity slammed down from beyond the sky, and Destruction swept away all life on this land in a devastating wave.
It saw their tears and heard their cries, watching as what once grew from nothing, returned to nothing.
As it watched, a storm brewed deep inside it. At least, it came to understand laughter and tears. Why people sang and wept. And why they could never return.

Tonight, they would continue singing to it. Tomorrow, they would fight to the death. This they declared with great courage. A mother held up her child to string its branch with red thread for a blessing. The child stared at it through clear eyes that had no concept of fear. Smiling, and with a tiny hand made nearly translucent by the firelight, she reached out to a branch…

“Pinky promise, Miss Sacred Tree…”

At that moment, countless destinies coalesced into a vibrant ink that paints her into the mortal realm.
In the next instant, two palms — one large, one small — gently pressed together.
And so, under the moonlight, the girl named “Evanescia” stepped into the mortal world.