Chapter 8 - Dappled Sunlight

Tree leaves shimmered in the sun, reflecting waves of light up to the clear sky. Smudges of smoke on the horizon of the sea of trees were quickly dissipated by breezes and powerful updrafts, courtesy of the valley's location beneath the mountains.

One particular tree stood out amid the green growth, bare and cracked, without the protection of leaves or bark. Dead limbs littered the ground, surrounding a trunk split in two, a shell, empty of its fruit.

The clearing surrounding this former symbol of power was losing ground to the encroaching forest and its inhabitants. Despite the area having been drained of all energy, the Dragon-Blood and Mana-Touched still flocked to this site in search of any power left here.

Tracks leading from the now dead tree were quickly erased underneath the battles of various beasts desiring what roots were still had traces of power. The tracks were strange, often changing and shifting between paw, claw, hoof, or some other spoor.

The path lead through the forest, never disturbing the trees or undergrowth, except in cases where splashes of blood and the corpses of various beasts were left torn on the ground, with tracks resembling their own leading away from their eternal resting place.

Driving a straight course through the forest, It quickly reaching the blurry tree line that emptied out into the plains, far away from the raging fires and bleeding army. Pausing for a moment in the newfound emptiness, seemingly to take in the endless sky and waving grass.

Taking the form of a stag at the moment, It continued its journey, no destination to reach with awkward bounds barely resembling the grace possible in Its form. Its form shifted subtly as it traveled, almost seeming hesitant to fixate on one form. Sinewy roots twisted their way around the rough bark covered form. Constantly applying the forces needed to move while protecting a center of green leaves and tender shoots that grew out of a dully beating heart of purple-blue.

Coming upon a stream that had deepened in this small grove, feeding several small trees and bushes. It stilled, searching the area, and making a decision It stopped, extruding sheets of roots into the ground, many more coming from its body than should be possible. It opened Its shell, allowing the leaves and budding flowers to spring forth into the muggy air, and feel the light breeze. The Tree’s heart, safely ensconced within hard bark, beat even slower, circulating new energy.

The night was quiet, slow breezes sweeping over the plains, breaking over the forest and various obstacles like reefs in an ocean. The newly transplanted tree settled into its new home. Absorbing what it could of the meager soil and slow-moving water.

Flowing light seeped into the landscape, brought to earth by a glowing new moon. Glistening reflections of a crowded night sky rippled across the still water in the pond. Stars spilt across the heavens as if sparks from a fire had drifted up and become stuck, spitting glimmers of light against each other and the endless dark.

The moon rose and fell. Night into day into night. The tree remained steadfastly planted by the stream. Waiting, growing.

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Dust rose up behind the caravan, the gaunt horse's metal-clad hooves and wagon's wooden wheels breaking the pale yellow grass into pieces. Despite the empty wagon beds, the exhausted men guiding the horses, and the harried women and children sitting in the slim shade told a story apart from success at a marketplace.

The horses continued plodding on as the sun slowly set. Streams of colors cast out onto an unwilling sky by the giant of fire. The caravan rolled to a halt, axles squeaking as men and women came down from their perches to set up camp. Soon, firelight peeked out from within the circle of wagons. The large fire illuminated the several families eating hard bread and barely preserved rations.

The sunrise announced itself with a ray of light reaching across the sky, rousing the caravan's inhabitants to resume their travel. Slowly, the wagons continued making progress across the savanna. At midday, they paused, one of the horses had fallen. Several minutes of hurried discussion was followed by the quick reordering of the few possessions left, and one of the men approaching the horse with a short sword. Before an hour had passed, the caravan, down one wagon, continued away from a bloody stain with objects wrapped in coarse cloth.

By the time the sun was beginning to set, the passengers were beginning to resign themselves for another night in the open. Suddenly a cry went up, one of the drivers pointed forward and yelled excitedly. They had spotted several trees, and lush bushes, and green grass, a sure sign of fresh water and good rest.

The men sped the horses on, hoping to reach the waterway before dark. Their desperate efforts paid off, reaching the stream minutes before the sun slipped away over the horizon and the area was lit only by the moon. Jubilantly they worked, unloading food, fetching water and wood, and soon a roaring fire was lit. The horse meat was slowly roasted, and efforts were made to smoke and preserve what was left after the tax of their hungry bellies was paid.

Quietly they rested, content and full, stress from weeks of travel away from their homes melting away.

A wild wind whipped the grass into a frenzy. The long strands lashed the damp ground, and water, and each other leaving ripples carrying unfortunate stalks to wander down the small stream.

A small ember flickered as the wind stole the last bit of energy from it. The campground fell into darkness, only the moon left to witness the empty wagons and pale bones lying in mockery to the families that thought this place a safe haven.

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Slowly, creaking emitted from twisting branches of the tree. Roots were retracted, green shoots, placed inside, and the tree stood in its new form.

The Tree strode from the stream, traveling east, its humanoid visage imprinted onto the rising sun.