Gift of the Gilded Leaf

I’d been dispatched to the high mountains of Korea this time, a place I should know quite well. The Artisans at Lichen & Lumina were convinced there was an ancient ginkgo tree up here somewhere - supposedly planted by some enlightened monk back when the world was still figuring itself out. The locals whispered about it in those deliciously cryptic fragments that made my job both fascinating and absolutely maddening: a golden elder with leaves of unmatched medicinal purity that could supposedly revolutionize their next curative blend.

Honestly, half the time I wondered if these quests were just elaborate ways to get me to take very expensive hiking trips, but the other half… well, that’s exactly why I kept saying yes to the impossible.

I’d been moving through the mountains, stealthily - wouldn’t want anyone else taking advantage of my discoveries! My presence was practically nonexistent thanks to my trusty Cloak and a shimmer charm from The Seekers Satchel that made me about as noticeable as a heat mirage. To anyone who might catch a glimpse, I was just a trick of the light - nothing to see here, folks! I did speak to some locals though. My grasp of the language was fading, just like my memories of home… but I caught enough to know there was definitely something up here they’d rather keep to themselves.

The breakthrough came in what had to be the wildest, most untouched stretch of mountain I’d encountered yet. I practically tripped over a forgotten Sansa temple, its timbers collapsed and surrendering to moss like nature was preparing it for a very long nap. The place should have been humming with residual spiritual energy - blessings, protective charms… I’d seen many temples like this and they were always infused with peaceful energy. Instead, there was only this hollow stillness that made me feel empty inside, my senses numb.

And underneath that emptiness? A sorrow so deep I could feel it seeping from the very stones like old tears that had never quite dried.

I could sense traces of ancient violence lingering in the shadows, perhaps even a massacre. The fallen Japsang figures on the steps and cracked altars told a story I didn’t particularly want to read, but couldn’t help absorbing anyway. I was ready to beat a respectful retreat - my heart already heavy with the weight of such desecration - when something caught my attention.

A trail. Well, calling it a trail was being generous. It was more like a whispered suggestion of a path, barely perceptible through vegetation so thick it looked like the forest had decided to throw a particularly enthusiastic party. It seemed like the plants had grown around something once sacred, carefully preserving a route that most eyes would never even notice.

My instincts were practically jumping up and down shouting “investigate!” but I absolutely refused to hack my way through. This place had suffered enough violence for several lifetimes.

Instead, I pressed gently into the overgrowth with one arm shielding my face, half-expecting to get thoroughly scratched up for my troubles. To my complete amazement, I encountered absolutely no resistance. The leaves and brambles bent around me like they were extending a formal invitation, allowing me passage without so much as ruffling my hair.

I found myself walking through a narrow, living corridor with walls of green bamboo so dense I couldn’t see sky or earth - just endless, beautiful green in every direction. The air grew cooler and wonderfully fragrant with each step, carrying scents I couldn’t identify but that made something deep in my chest flutter with anticipation. My senses were practically humming with excitement, like they knew something amazing was waiting ahead.

After what felt like an eternity - time seemed to have gotten completely lost in that green tunnel - I stepped into a clearing so hushed and golden it literally stole my breath.

There it stood. The ginkgo tree of legends.

Nestled against and shielded by the mountainside, its trunk impossibly wide and ancient beyond measure, those distinctive fan-shaped leaves catching sunlight and illuminating the space in golden hues. The entire tree was completely enclosed by a protective wall of dense forest growth, hidden here for centuries, maybe millennia, safeguarded by sheer remoteness and the mountain’s own protective embrace. This definitely wasn’t the kind of place you stumbled across by accident.

I took one careful, reverent step forward—and froze like I’d been turned to stone.

I was absolutely not alone.

A tiger sat before the ginkgo, massive and utterly magnificent, its white-orange fur practically glowing in that golden light. It sat perfectly upright on its haunches, amber eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my soul want to hide behind my ribcage. Those eyes didn’t blink, didn’t waver, and every instinct I possessed screamed that this was no ordinary mountain cat. This was a guardian spirit - a San-shin, perhaps, the mountain’s own handpicked bouncer sent to test whether I deserved to be here.

Pure terror gripped me, but I had enough sense left not to reach for anything that might be construed as a weapon. I hadn’t come here to pillage or desecrate something sacred - I was just a very curious girl with a professional interest. Slowly, reverently, I knelt among the carpet of golden leaves, focusing every scattered thought with crystal clarity. I filled my mind with respect and gratitude, trying to make my intentions as transparent as possible. I was here to listen and learn, not to destroy or steal. Then I bowed my head to the magnificent creature, hoping it could sense my sincerity.

The tiger rose and stepped forward, those unblinking amber eyes never taking their gaze off me. It moved close enough that I could feel the raw power radiating from its form, close enough that I could count the individual whiskers on its majestic face. For one heart-stopping moment, I genuinely thought it might decide my quest ended right here, right now.

Instead, it studied me with what I can only describe as deep, ancient understanding… then as I looked up from my bow, it slowly began to fade, dissolving back into the very earth it guarded as if it had been nothing more than concentrated mountain magic given temporary form.

I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding and looked down at the spot where it had vanished.

There, nestled among the ginkgo’s ancient roots were ginseng plants unlike anything I’d ever encountered. Their color, their vitality, their very essence radiated a purity that I had never seen. This was what I’d truly been sent to find. Carefully, and with silent gratitude that felt like a prayer, I harvested only a single root - just enough to fulfill my commission without disturbing the sacred balance.

Turning back to the tree, I watched its ancient branches sway gently in the mountain breeze, golden leaves drifting down around me like blessings from some benevolent deity. I gathered only what had already fallen naturally, not daring to so much as brush against the tree itself. It had already given more than enough.

I packed the precious leaves and single ginseng root into my bag of holding, but before leaving this enchanted grove, I closed my eyes and offered a silent prayer - not just of thanks, but of promise. That what I had taken would be used with the utmost respect. That no harm would come to this sacred place because of my presence here. That I would carry this moment with me like a talisman against the ordinary world.

As I made my way back through that living green corridor and emerged again at the ruined temple, I felt fundamentally changed. The sorrow of the desecrated shrine still lingered in the air, but now it was joined by something else - a quiet blessing, a trace of mercy and hope that definitely hadn’t been there before.

I suddenly found myself thinking of one of my very first assignments, all the way back in the Scottish highlands, and couldn’t help but smile. Some things really did come full circle in the most unexpected ways.

I’d bring these treasures back to Lichen & Lumina, but I’d make absolutely certain they understood these weren’t just rare ingredients on some cosmic shopping list. They were sacred gifts, earned through respect rather than taken by force. And I’d make sure they remembered one crucial detail that would probably keep them humble:

The tiger was always watching.

—Seeker Sana​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​