the ellery tree
Perhaps you have had enough of the forest’s tricks. You can see the end of the trail just ahead of you, can see the festival lights and hear the music and laughter drifting through the trees. It is close, so close. Only the birds separate you from your destination, with their glowing eyes and shadow feathers.
And so, you do not hesitate to do what you must.
The birds fly away on silent wings, the challenge dying in their throats. Ink-black feathers rain down all around you, smoke limning their edges, incense tainting the air, padding the earth. When it is all said and done the shadow-birds are only an unpleasant memory.
The trail lies open before you. But now -- oh, but now, you can see the end of it.
The trees end abruptly, but it is no clearing that you find yourself in. The branches woven together overhead never break, never reveal the night sky above you; they only grow thicker, and heavier, and the red-and-gold leaves shivering along their branches rub dryly together and begin to whisper. You made it, you imagine them saying. Now come, and see…
In the center of the not-clearing is the Ellery tree, if such a thing can still be called a tree. For this tree is a shagbark sentinel larger than any tree you have seen before, its trunk stretching seemingly endlessly, wider than your body, wider than two of your bodies standing nose-to-tail. Fairy lights are woven among its leaves and wrapped around its trunk, drawing you forward like a beacon for the lost. Gnarled roots rise from the ground all around it, a labyrinth snaking through the grass. In between those roots, glowing more brightly than the lanterns, grow dozens and dozens of moon-flowers. They shine silver and bright, as they dance in constant motion to a song only they can hear.
But if you listen closely, perhaps you can hear the same song. And perhaps, as you move through the waist-high flowers and press your cheek against the tree’s roots, you realize the song is coming from the tree itself, running through its core.
And perhaps the tree feels holy; perhaps when you press skin to root you can begin to feel as if the tree is singing directly to you.
There is one flower that is different from the others, standing within the hollow of the Ellery tree. Its petals are folded tightly shut, as if afraid to see the world around it. And it seems to call to you, in a language that speaks not in words, but whispers to your very soul.
You draw closer to it - what’s one last mystery to solve?
It is not until you lower your head to the bud that it begins to stir, unfurling its petals slowly and shaking the sleep from them. There is a light glowing in its center, a single, shuddering flame-that-does-not-burn rising from the heart of it. And it seems to you a gift, begging for you to take it with you when you leave.
@
Growing within the tree's hollow is a single moonflower. It unfurls as you approach, a single flame rising from its center. The color of the flower and the flame is your choice! To claim this thread as completed, you'll need one last "exit" post. OPTIONAL: if you'd like, you can ask the tree a question or make a wish, and she may just answer you...
You can read more about the shagbark sentinels here, under the Trees of Viride Forest. The legend of the Ellery tree is coming soon...
