This tree is beautiful.

Its trunk is strong and smooth, made of firm gray wood that puts all other wood to shame. Its branches part elegantly from each other, curving gently upwards, cradling the moon and the sun, growing the stars on their ends, shaded by bronzed emerald leaves.

The stars. They are beautiful, are they not? And mine are so much more approachable than those distant pinpricks in Heaven’s vault. The unenlightened call my stars golden apples, but those people have clearly never been close enough to see these divine fruits for themselves. There is no resemblance. Calling my stars “apples” is like calling a diamond “coal” because both are found under the ground. It’s ridiculous.

And my stars hold power — great power. The power to rock this world to its core, to knock those called gods from their thrones…

The power of incorruptibility.

No, that’s not a mistake. Immortality is a bitter pill — aging but never dying, falling ill but never knowing peace. Incorruptibility is different — it is the state of being untouched by time, death, illness, fatigue, or injury. It is immortality taken past its limits.

It is sought after by all who do not already have it.

Why else would I be here?

I am the Serpent, the one who rests my coils in the branches of this Tree, the one who has eaten of its fruit, the one who tirelessly watches over it, from leaf to root. I am the one who guards it from those who would seek to steal my stars — or those who would seek to destroy the tree itself.

I would do anything to defend my tree, my stars.

I would even damn you from the Garden for it…