The were the first to suffer. Without rain, their high gardens withered. They cried out for water, but the Root-Tenders, bitter from years of being ignored, hoarded the deep-well reserves for themselves. "You have the sun," the Root-Tenders shouted up. "Drink that."
Finally, the Great Tree itself began to lean. Its leaves turned gray, failing to provide shade to the roots below. The ground cracked, and the Root-Tenders found themselves baking in the very earth that used to protect them. The were the first to suffer
But soon, the dry heat caused the wood to shrink. The homes began to crack. Without the Root-Tenders’ moisture to keep the bark supple, the very stairs and halls of the village began to crumble. "You have the sun," the Root-Tenders shouted up
It was Elara, a young Trunk-Keeper, who stood in the central plaza where the three levels met. The ground cracked, and the Root-Tenders found themselves
"The tree is dying because we have become separate branches," she shouted. "The roots cannot drink if the leaves do not shade the ground. The leaves cannot grow if the roots do not send up water. And none of us have a home if the trunk collapses." Desperation finally broke the pride of the guilds.