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I’m an adventurer on a quest to defeat the impending evil threatening the world. Or at least I was, until my capacity for growth stagnated several years ago. At some point I simply could not improve any further, and I found myself running wounded from the growing powers of darkness more and more often. I'm not exactly young anymore, so I figured my time as a hero was over and I should find somewhere to hole up and live quietly until I died an unremarkable death.
I have been living in a small foresting settlement, helping them collect their goods––rowan and birch wood, and strange nuts the locals say have vast healing properties. The nuts in particular are somewhat difficult to acquire, and even though I could no longer improve my skills, I was still among the strongest of those in the settlement, so most of my time was spent collecting these nuts.
They aren’t difficult to collect due to some mundane reason such as height or visibility. The trees themselves are easy to recognize, with leaves the color of a gentle ocean and bark as pale as a full moon on a clear night. No, the trees are easier to find than coal in the snow. The true source of difficulty is the magical protection surrounding them––anyone who approaches the tree will be laden with physical and mental weight, and those with a weak mind and body will be rendered essentially helpless, their only option to escape the tree’s grasp.
These trees were not much of a challenge for me––myself and a couple others would carry out daily expeditions to collect the nuts, and we would return with a fair few baskets. However, during one outing several months ago, we encountered another tree––an old, sinister tree that emanated a thirst for blood I had only felt when facing the foulest agents of evil. One of the men I’d been accompanying strayed too close to the tree, and he fell into an infinite darkness beyond the drooping foliage. The others told me he was lost, and that we should not search for him.
On that day when I returned to the settlement, I asked around about this wicked tree. I found that they were once common, and that the people of old had the ability to approach them easily, and that the nuts they had to give were of a quality beyond human understanding. But the knowledge of how to tame these trees had been lost, and their name escaped time. This ancient, wicked tree was known now only as the Ebonwalde.
I had grown complacent during my time in this settlement. Cautious. I did not seek the secrets of the tree, nor did I venture near it in hopes of finally surpassing my own limits. I simply carried on with the work I had and continued to live a day-to-day existence. It was nice. The change of pace improved my overall health, with more sleep and consistent meals, and the physical labor kept my body in shape.
But through it all, I still felt a nagging curiosity buried deep in my adventurer’s heart.
--
Today was different from those that came before. For the first time since I had come to the settlement, my companions were unable to join me in gathering nuts. I was confident enough in my abilities and my knowledge of the area, and I left off to gather on my own.
The trip was the same as any other, though a bit slower and with decidedly less conversation. I gathered the nuts from branches I could reach, and since the trees were too thin to climb, I shot those too high to reach with a bow and arrow. The nuts never fall, but they will spoil on the branch, so removing every ripe nut on a tree is important for keeping them growing.
The day was turning to evening, and I decided it was time to head back. I stepped lightly through the forest, idly plucking low-hanging nuts as I went. After a while of this, I realized I’d been walking for much longer than should have been necessary. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I noticed that the sun was behind me, in the direction of the settlement... but the rest of me dismissed the information as irrelevant. I kept walking.
At some point I dropped the nuts. Everything was hazy and I couldn’t entirely tell what I was doing. I simply felt a pull, a calling. The encroaching dark of night should have left me blind, but my body acted as though it knew exactly where to go. I felt as if hours had passed in a matter of minutes, years flying by every second, leaping centuries into the future and falling millenia into the past, the dizzying miasma consuming my consciousness and tearing me apart atom by atom and ripping my soul from
My feet stopped.
Everything stilled.
The inky blackness surrounding me was broken only by the faint glow of the deep blue bark on the thick, gnarled trunk before me. My mind screamed at me to turn and run, but my body would not budge, glued to the spot mere feet before this… entity. It was too old to be called a tree. It was too full of hatred, bitter at being left behind, unable to uproot itself and join its siblings. It had seen more of our history than even the greatest libraries, and it remembered every betrayal–every axe that had dug into its flesh, every torchflame that had licked its leaves.
“YOU.”
I would have jumped out of my skin if I hadn’t been held in the stony grip of whatever magic had compelled me here. And if I hadn’t been… expecting it, somehow. It was commanding, cautious, but contained a breath of familiarity, and the barest whisper of hope.
“YOU COME TO THE FOREST. YOU DO NOT COME TO ME. WHY.”
Why? I… you’re dangerous. You’ve killed… consumed… I don’t know, you’ve made many people of the village disappear. I just want to live peacefully. I don’t want any part of anything like this anymore. I don’t want to be a hero–I can’t be a hero.
“NO.”
‘No?’
“NO.”
‘No’ what? I’ve made something for myself here. I have a home, I have friends, I have a future! I’m not strong enough to keep battling evil or whatever, I might have the experience but I’ve reached my peak! I–
“NO.”
I’m all but thrown into the trunk. I expect it to be the rough, pitted texture of the other trees, but it gives way with the consistency of freshly mixed cement. As much as I want to scream, to struggle, to escape, I am unable to act against the hold of the being as I sink slowly into a velvety nothingness. As I am swallowed completely, my mind quiets. I feel almost… comfortable.
“I AM THOU. THOU ART I. WE ARE ONE.”
Everything goes white.
Not the white of a blow to the head, but the white of a blinding flash, the white of the epicenter of a great and terrible explosion. A tremendous release of pressure flattens the trees around me, the sound of which is nothing compared to the thunderous roaring in my head. I feel the overwhelming knowledge of thousands of years spent passively watching the flow of time, the staggering strength of an ancient soul.
The immense relief of a trapped spirit yearning for freedom, finally able to wander.
Everything goes white, and I am the source.