The task seemed easy enough: find all the rot on the bonsai tree and remove it. However, one wrong cut and Asmodella would obliterate Jocelyn’s physical form.

The gods were crazy.

Jocelyn picked up the shears, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. If only she had her music. It always helped steady her nerves.

“What song would you like to hear?” Asmodella asked, out of the blue.

“You can read my thoughts?”

“Yes. This is my domain after all.”

“I…”

“You’re now sorry for thinking of me as a crazy, right? Don’t worry about it. I do actually get a little crazy sometimes.” She leaned in closer. “Like on my birthdays, I enjoy having two Anthromedels instead of one.”

Anthromedel? What on Earth was that?

“Trust me honey, you’re better off not knowing,” Asmodella said.

Jocelyn wasn’t impressed. “This is sort of an invasion of privacy, with you continuously reading my thoughts.”

“It’s a bad habit, I know. Sometimes I just can’t help myself. You should see what the Xaksu boy in the other room is thinking right now,” Asmodella boasted. “It’d make you blush fifty different shades.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Back to your request for music, do you have any song in mind?”

Jocelyn tried to think of one, but none stood out.

“I’ve got one I think you’ll like,” Asmodella said. She pointed at Jocelyn’s forehead. “It’s one that’s buried deep within that noggin of yours.”

“Okay.”

Asmodella snapped her fingers and a beautiful, bright melody filled the pavilion. Jocelyn had heard it before but she couldn’t quite put her finger on the name of the tune.

“How’s that?” Asmodella asked.

“It’s lovely,” Jocelyn replied honestly. A warm, nostalgic feeling bubbled deep within her belly and lifted her spirits. There was something comforting about the song, something serene that lulled her into a blissful state. It felt like warm arms wrapping around her, holding her after a bad day.

“It used to be your favorite,” Asmodella pointed out.

Favorite? Was this another memory lost to her? Jocelyn wanted to know more, but Asmodella hushed her and gestured towards the bonsai. “It’s time for you to begin.”

Jocelyn picked up the clippers and examined the tree carefully, starting with the tiny leaves. For the most part, the foliage was healthy and green.

She inspected the trunk next. It was smooth, except for a few wrinkles that came with age.

“You look perfect,” Jocelyn whispered. “So what’s wrong with you?”

Asmodella had instructed her to cut out the rot, but what if none were found? Strangely enough, Jocelyn knew the rot was there. She felt its presence, like a cancer hidden deep within blood and bone. She needed to find it.

She felt a slight pulling sensation at the tip of her fingers, like an invisible magnetic force drawing her hand towards the tree.

“You’re trying to show me something, aren’t you?” Jocelyn whispered to the tree. Her hand was just barely touching it. Slowly, the black spots on the bonsai began to appear, as if being in proximity to her hand forced the rot to reveal itself.

“There you are,” Jocelyn said as she took the shears. She carefully snipped away at the black on the branches and methodically removed the decayed leaves, gently plucking each one with her fingers.

When all the rot seemed removed, Jocelyn sat back in her chair and inspected the tree.

“Are we done?” Asmodella asked.

That was a good question. All the visible rot was removed. However, something still wasn’t right.

Not yet. Did the tree just speak to her?

Glowing dotted lines suddenly began forming around various branches, like guidelines in a children’s arts book. It was obvious to Jocelyn that this was where the bonsai wanted her to cut.

“Are you sure?” Jocelyn whispered.

Please.

“If I cut your healthy branches, it will kill us, won’t it?”

No.

Jocelyn pursed her lips. On any other day, listening to the advice from a tree regarding matters of life and death was ludicrous. But this wasn’t just any other day and as Asmodella had stated twice already, the bonsai wasn’t just any other tree. “I’ll trust you then,” Jocelyn said.

She picked up the shears again and pressed the blades around one of the branches, lining it up with the glowing markings.

“What are you doing?” Asmodella asked. “You’ve passed the test. You’ve cut away all the rot.”

“But I can do more,” Jocelyn said. Her hands were no longer her own. The tree was now controlling her actions.

“I think you’re quite done. If you cut that branch off, you’ll be forfeiting your physical body,” Asmodella warned.

Jocelyn made the cut anyway.