Noax broke the mountains, but soon he entered the Forest of Illusions.
Here, the trees whispered lies. The path split into a thousand directions, and every direction looked correct.
Noax used his Strength to smash the trees, but for every tree he broke, two more grew. He was lost.
He sat down, exhausted. The Torch of Hope flickered. Strength cannot solve a puzzle.
A silver owl landed on a branch. Its eyes were faceted crystals.
"You are going in circles, Ancestor," the owl hooted.
"Who are you?"
"I am Wisdom," the owl said. "I see the truth behind the illusions."
"Show me the way," Noax said.
"I can give you the Prism of Wisdom," the owl said. "But Wisdom is painful. To see the truth, you must give up your Innocence."
"What is Innocence?"
"It is the belief that the world is kind," the owl said. "If you take my eyes, you will see the rot inside the flower. You will see the betrayal before it happens."
Noax did not want to see the rot. But he did not want to die in the forest.
"Give me the Prism."
The owl pecked out Noax's left eye. In its place, it put a spinning crystal.
The world changed. The beautiful trees looked like starving skeletons. The singing birds looked like screaming wraiths. Noax saw the true path. It was narrow and dangerous, but it was real.
He walked out of the forest, one eye seeing beauty, the other seeing horror.