12.6 Pitiful, prideful.

Bowl was not exactly a correct term to describe the remnants of this tree. It was more so shaped like a giant hand reaching up from the ground, just about to close it's fists in a desperate manner, but never being able to do so. At the other end of the tree, was a huge opening, revealing a bright aurora of burning hues. "The tear in space is causing the energy around to disperse in an irregular nature, so first we must activate the rift to stabalize the flow of spritual feilds here. Mr.Abraham, I trust your craftsmanship would be of much use here."

Waleed was the only one standing at ease around such an unnatural burst of raw power. The others, even the principal was having a hard time maintaining a balance. He could only as much as grunt in reply as he took out what seemed like a fresh flower with 7 black petals, soft enough to flutter in the low winds, and handed it to Waleed.