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 Posted: Tue Mar 04, 2008 9:03 am
The children scattered out the door, squealing madly as she released them for a week's worth of festival. It had become the time of growing th ings, and thus a time to celebrate. This meant no school for any age child, so her class of the youngest were free to delight or trouble their parents with their antics during this week, and she herself was able to spend time doing the things she loved.
She gave a long stretch at the idea of this freedom, her tail straightening for a bare moment before curling again to wave sinuously behind her. She removed the school-teacher clips from her earfur and tossed them onto the desk, smiling as she did so. Outside she could see a couple of the unattatched boys lingering around the doorway, hoping to walk her home.
Feeling mischievious, she stepped out into the golden sunshine and smiled at them. "Sorry boys, I'm afraid it's a girl's night out tonight." Her eyes crinkled in amusement at their crestfallen expressions as they each meandered off their own directions. She was popular with the older boys, but knew in her heart that she wasn't quite ready to settle down. In time, most certainly. But not only did she want to apply herself to her delightful school-children, but none of the males who courted her had stood out from the rest yet either. "Wait until you meet one that touches your heart from the first, my dear," her mother had advised her when she'd begun noticing the favor of the boys. "Then you'll be a happier troll in the end."
Her mother was quite a happy woman herself. She had given birth to ten tealings, and still adored her mate. Betha smiled at the thought of her parents. They were so adorable together, just like two little love doves, twittering softly and almost shyly exchanging affection. There was no doubt about their love.
She could only contrast it to the town mayor and his wife. Oh, they were happy enough, but she tended to scold something awful, while he patiently endured it and tended to follow her admonishments. It was a local joke that the mayor wore skirts, and that her mate helped her to run the town. But it was all in good-natured fun. There hadn't been a case of truly ill-will among the tea trolls since the time of the great-grand-grams. And then it had been a stranger that had instigated it.
Oh, they loved strangers coming to visit. They simply were just that. Strangers. Even the Big Folk merchants they traded with regularly were still considered strangers. They weren't family, after all, and that made them outsiders.
But now she was wool-gathering instead of considering how she'd be spending her free time! Tonight was indeed a girl's night out. She and the other teachers were going to go to Martin's pub and spend time there, laughing and telling stories while they played skip-a-loo. Hugging her books to herself, Betha beamed up at the setting sun. Yes, this was going to be a wonderful week!
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2008 10:27 am
It was much later, after the moon had set, that found Betha on her way home. She knew most of her family would be asleep, and intented to tiptoe to bed. Their house was out on the edge of town, and so it was a brisk walk from the tavern to the house. She hummed to herself as she walked, smiling as she thought about the jokes her friends had told her tonight. When does a donkey get to wear skirts? -- When she's acting as the mayor! Oh, they were all in good fun. Noone seriously had a grudge against anyone, not even when they were political figures.
Just then, a glimmer of light caught her eye. Not that lights were uncommon, even at this time of night. All the paths were well-lit and tended by a nightowl of a tea troll. But this wasn't even in town. It had flashed from among the trees, just beyond a nearby house. Whatever was that? Why would someone be out there at this time of night? Had something been lost? Without stopping to think, she stepped between the houses and trotted into the trees.
This, of course, was probably a very foolish thing to do. But life was very quiet and safe in the valley, so she thought little about there being danger. Even if she had, however, this was danger of a different sort than most. The glimmer of light led her deeper into the woods, bobbing along much like a lantern would have. She called several times, but there was no answer. Eventually, though, the 'lantern' turned a corner and was out of sight. Hurrying to catch up, still feeling secure in the knowledge that they really weren't that far from the village, Betha burst around the corner and into a dream.
She was in a glade full of light. Or rather, full of lights. Little points of sparkling brilliance swirled and bobbed and wavered through the air, creating walls out of the trees and leaves around them, so that it appearesd she stood in an open room with a curving, gilded roof above her.
Mouth wide open in awe, she moved into the glade, eyes turned upwards and breath caught. She pivoted as she moved slowly. They were pixies! She'd heard of them, but they weren't often seen anymore, and never had she heard of there being so many in one spot! How lucky she was! She was walking backwards, watching the patterns the tiny glowing creatures made after she'd walked by them, when her heel struck a rock.
Stumbling, she tripped backwards, her other heel catching as well. She sat down hard, wincing as she hit the ground. But that was quickly overridden by astonishment as all the pixies in the glade suddenly rushed at her. What had been a moment of wonder became a moment of fear. There was something decidedly unfriendly about the way they moved and dove into her face, surrounding her in an ever brightening aura of light. She drew her feet underneath her to stand, dragging her feet over a ring of rocks.
That was when it hit her. A fae circle. They had led her into a fae circle. Gasping a suddenly frightened breath, she lurched to her feet to try and escape. Whispers of sound, like demented twitters of mischeif, mocked her attempt. For although she was able to stand, once her feet bore her weight, she could not move them. "Oh, please let me go! I didn't mean to! Wait!" Her pleas fell on deaf faerie ears, for the magic was almost done.
Within moments, a young tree, about the height of a teatroll, stood where once a young trolless had. But though it appeared to be a tree, the essence of Betha still inhabited it. Shocked beyond reaction, she stood rooted in the ground, watching as night faded into morning, and morning into day. That day passed into the next, and th next after it. The tree that once was a troll grew tall and strong through the years, and Betha watched the world around her.
She came to accept her fate reasonably quickly. Her small magic was that of calming, which was quite useful when she was trapped alone. She watched as the trees around her thinned and the village grew to be within sight. She watched their happy lives proceed, and was happy for them. Life wasn't so bad as a tree. She weathered storms and sheltered wildlife. When she was taller than one of their two-story houses, they discovered something special about her. Her leaves were good for a special sort of tea. They came to honor her, calling her the Tea Tree. As time passed, the town grew to surround her, though they made space for her to thrive among them.
All those she knew were now gone, though their descendants still lived on. She watched over them like a benevolent spirit, and they treated her with respect and love, unknowing that they honored one of their own. Though her life was vastly different now, she valued what she had been given. It was a great gift to watch as those she loved and cared about carried on their lives, and their grandtrollings grew to carry on their lives as well.
For many, many years she watched and grew, becoming a great and ancient tree in the midst of the cheerful tea troll town.
But that was not how it was to be for all time. Change was coming.
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2008 11:14 am
By now their peaceful little town had become a bustling small city. Strangers, both Big Folk and not, were now coming often enough to want to stay. Her people were allowing this, and with these strangers came great changes. Electricty found its way into tea troll culture, since the strangers insisted it made thigns easier. Soon there were noisy, smelly automobiles traversing the city streets as well. Now spreading tall and wide over the city around her, Betha withdrew her lower branches from the noise and smoggy air coming from below her.
It was far from pleasant, but that wasn't what troubled the Tea Tree. The farms were dwindling around the city, and the lovely homes were beginning to look dilapidated and uncared for. Her people were seen less and less in those that bustled past the massive tree. The Big Folk had taken over her home town. Noone paid any attention to her anymore, but she didn't really mind that so much. She just wished she knew where her people were going... and wished she could follow them. Instead, she was rooted deeply in place by the wicked little pixies. They weren't around anymore either. They had danced in her branches, trying to mock her, for some time after their trick. But that was so very long ago now, before the village had even reached her.
Before long, she could see only occasional tea trolls, worn and sad, no longer the happy and content folk they had been during Betha's time. This disturbed her deeply, but this was not the end of the turn for the worse. For unbeknownst to her, the time of Destruction had come. To the ancient tree's perception, things declined very quickly. Whole families sickened and died. Earthquakes ruined parts of town, tumbling houses and buildings into rubble. Fires broke out and ravaged entire neighborhoods, though thankfully nowhere near Betha. The skies darkened and she came to realize how much she loved the sky.
But most frightening of all, her tree prison was failing. It began to sicken and die as well. Certain that her time had come, she felt sadness, but could not bring herself to truly regret. Had she not lived long and well, thanks to the trick of those magical creatures? She had long ago discarded any faint inkling of resentment or grudge. It wasn't in a tea troll's soul to carry such things for long.
So now it came to an end. She felt the branches shirvel and die, losing their leaves forever. The folk beneath her didn't even try to trim her back for their own safety. They were too miserable or deviously involved in their own mechanisms of survival to notice the danger. Eventually one of her great branches broke lose with a sickening crack and rip, falling to crash with a resounding roar into several houses below. The few screams of fear or pain were pitiful, and made her want to weep for their loss. But what was she but a dying tree? Inwardly she closed her eyes to the world, to try and fade with peace.
Only this was not to be.
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Posted: Tue Mar 25, 2008 11:49 pm
She fell into a doze as the tree she had become failed. The world around her with its dirty miseries faded away, blending into a dim grey cloud closing in around her. In this blessed reprieve of silence and seperation, she dreamed.
Warm sunshine filtered through her gently waving branches. It was early summer, and the world was a wonderful place to be, even as a tree. A large lawn spread around her feet, an island of green in the midst of a sprawling town. The buildings gathered near, and yet were not near, such was the contradiction that was easily accepted in her dreamstate. In great and abiding peacefulness, she watched the familiar bustle and business of her people, though not them alone. Time flowed at a different speed, blurring the figures into patterns and blending them into a rainbow of motion.
Out from this blurring crowd stepped a child. She was familiar somehow, in this time and place, and thus must naturally be a tealing. And yet, when she really looked, the young thing didn't resemble a tea troll at all, apart from being small in stature. The girl smiled up at her, right into her eyes as she stood still with the whilring crowd but steps away, as if she knew that Betha was really there, within the tree. Another face flickered in place of the small child's, an older, more masculine one with thoughtful eyes and tousled hair. But the moment passed, and it was only this young one before her, beaming up at her with all the confidence of youthful assurance of knowledge. Somehow it seemed natural that the child would know she was there.
Days passed in several blinks of an eye, and yet still the girl-child smiled up at her, unmoving save for the rising of her chest as she breathed in slow tempo compared to the world about them. Seasons passed, and finally she moved. Slowly and deliberately the youngster moved up close, eyes still fixed upon those of Betha, who towered over the child. A tiny hand raised slowly, and now the child watched her own hand with wonder and delight. The delicate skin, light fingers, grazed her bark in a gentle stroke, as if caressing a skittish pet. In that instant of connection, suddenly all the muzzy details snapped into startling focus. Now she could see the paleness of her eyes, the ragged filthy hair, the ragged clothing, the dirtiness of skin. Beyond all these, she noticed the gleaming, glowing stone that was part of her shoulder, as if it had naturally grown there, and now was turning the skin around it into the same gleaming gem material.
The child said nothing, but continued to caress the bark of her prison, as if stroking her cheek soothingly, to reassure or comfort her. Meanwhile, time continued to increase speed around them. Seasons were flying by, the world beyond the child a grey-blue blur, with light filtering through only weakly. The earth gave a great heave beneath her, accompanied by a hiccup in time around them. The child's tender face was upturned towards her again, and there was something in her hand. Betha, born and raised in the mountainous valley didn't know what it was, but in the glimpse she got of it, it seemed a delicate thing, swirled with blues of all sorts. Most noticable about it was that it glowed from within, a bright glare like sun reflected on a still lake, shimmering blinding glimmers of light.
Mezmerized, Betha stared at the object, unable to take her eyes off of it. The form of the girl faded, blurring similiarly to the world around them. But the hand that held the luminescent object raised, as if in offering to some unknown god, high above the child's head. Then, in slow motion, the arm and hand arced downward, drawing agonizingly slowly closer to Betha's skin. Years swirled around them, flickering by like beats of a heart. As it moved, the thing left a glittering trail of its shimmering light behind it, tracing the path it took as it ever neared her. Motion slowed further and time sped ever faster as it came within breaths of her bark. Unable to look away, she dimly was aware that the girl was gone, and all that was there was the gleaming object, moving itself towards her. Everything was screaming fast and dead still, all at the same time, until the moment when the infinitely slowly creeping shape touched her skin.
Everything around her froze, silent and utterly still, a moment in time caught in shatteringly painful detail. Around her the world was clearly visible, with peoples of all kinds, some she'd never seen before, all caught in the moment. Some were in mid-sentence; there was a couple throwing things in anger, and an old man about to sprawl face-first on the pavement, while the thief who had shoved him was caught in mid-stride, fleeing the scene. Every single individual was the same ashen grey. Not a breath stirred, noone noticed the frame of life had stopped. All was still, all was held. The buildings around her pressed clsoe, cobbles weighed heavily upon her roots, and above it all was a sky of leaden, dead grey.
The girl-child was there again, gazing up at her with those pale, pale eyes, her whole body bathed in brilliance that overcame the grey. Unable to look away, Betha held her breath, painful in her chest.
Then time released them, and the object sunk deep into her chest. Wood exploded from around it, shattering slivers in all directions like a fireworks show. A tidal wave of light and sound expanded from that center point, destroying all it washed over. Blinded and deafened, she had a moment for panicked astonishment before she too was blown apart, shattering into a thousand bright pieces that flew glittering through the grey air. And then darkness, deep and dark and welcoming, descended upon her.
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Posted: Wed Mar 26, 2008 10:47 am
With a gut-wrenching gasp that was half scream, her eyes snapped open and she staggered forward, tripping over shredded and torn wood, falling to her knees upon the cold, bare ground. Thunder, or something like it, rumbled ominously above her as she knelt there, heaving terrified breaths. That dream... it had felt so real! Her boddy shuddered, and she scrambled to her feet. Sttill shuddering, she stood there and rubbed her arms, which were covered by goosebumps. This feeling of great uneasiness and unsettledness refused to fade as she struggled to get control of herself.
Her eyes cleared slowly, and her breaths slowed, allowing her heart to ease it's maddened pace. It was only then that the situation dawned on her. She was... standing. Rubbing her arms. That had goosebumps.
She promptly collapsed to the ground again with a wordless cry of anguished release. She was free. She could see the ruined remains of her tree strewn about her, rotted and dead wood pale against sooty grey concrete and dead grey grass. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she gasped deep, shuddering breaths into pained lungs. She was free. She was free!
With trembling hands, she ran her fingers up her now out-dated traditional clothes, across her smooth-skinned face, and out to the furred tips of her ears. Braeth still caught in an odd spot behind her breastbone, she reached to pull her tail to herself, burying her face into the tuft of fur at the end. It was real. She was as she had been, so very very long ago. How long had it actually been? Her mind reeled as it tried to figure the number out. So long! So very many years! Tears continued to roll down her face, her body now racked with sobs. Keeping her tailtip cradled against her, she reached with one hand to gently stroke the nearest chunk of wood and bark. Sorrowfully she pulled a large sliver into her lap and gazed tearfully down at it. This was all that was left of the giant tree she had become, and that had given the ultimate sacrifice so that she might live as herself again. She closed her hand reverently about the sliver, letting the rough edges bite into her soft skin. She would never forget, she vowed. Never.
But now was the time to begin thinking practically again. Tucking the wood chip into her skirt pocket, she rose to her feet again, wiping the dampness from her face and taking deep cleansing breaths. The time for sadness and reflection had passed, and now she needed to tend to life. Smoothing her clothing into place, she gazed about her intently for the first time. Shop fronts loomed close, with towering stories above them. Windows were shattered, doors hung crooked. Several buildings were in complete ruins, either from fire or simple decay. The once bustling street that curved around her small plot of land was now echoingly empty. Not even a rat stirred within sight or hearing. The only sign of life was the distant harsh call of a crow... a portent of doom. Frowning, she stepped into the street to inspect the buildings closer.
She bypassed those that were merely burned out husks now, or the crumbled remains of those that had fallen in upon themselves. Horrifyingly, those left standing seemed to have been attacked, though whether by Big Folk or wild beasts wasn't evident, which made it all the more terrible. Her mind refused to even consider that any of this mindless damage could have been caused by any of her own people. It simply was not possible for a tea troll to act thus. Besides that, so few of them had been left living here for the past several years of her tree-memory.
But where had they all gone?
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