Standing before a plaguemark of the Aeon–Yaoshi, the Ambrosial Arbor's power to shape life and subdue death is second to none. The foliage of the timber graced Phantylia's imposing figure; a graceful dance amid her impeding stature.

Her demeanor towards you was a far cry from her formidable state—amused at her recognition of teeny pattering feet scurrying towards her. Your arrival always signaled new news of her adversaries.

Plucking you into her palm, “Emissary, what brings you to me?”