The Elmoar Tree

Appledew watches the human child stumble into her grove. She doesn’t want to kill it, but the decision won’t be hers to make.

The child’s overcoat is dirty and torn, the garments underneath spotted with rust-colored stains. It’s unshod, allowing Appledew to see a human’s feet for the first time, which she thinks are misshapen and ugly.

How do humans move wearing so much? Appledew thinks. She flutters her opalescent wings, giving herself a quick burst of speed and floats to a closer branch.

Suddenly the child falls to its knees before the great trunk of the Elmoar Tree and begins to wail. Its pain is raw and terrible to behold.

“Why?” It cries. “They never hurt anyone!”

Appledew frowns as it collapses onto its arms, shaking in anguish. Never hurt anyone? Humans hurt everything. They trample beautiful flowers, steal food from hardworking bees, and worst of all, cut down the great trees.

Humans live in carcasses that had once given life to the world. They aren’t trustworthy, but Appledew can’t help feeling sad. Whatever its people’s flaws; this one had not yet caused harm to nature.

The child freezes as sudden barks fill the air far behind, its eyes terror filled. A moan escapes its lips as it struggles to its feet.

Dogs! Appledew’s mouth twists in disgust. Animals submitting to humans. Worse than horses, who at least had to be broken.

“Gods above, please, help me!” It steps forward and leans on the Elmoar, sobbing.

Wind whispers through the Elmoar’s leaves, tickling Appledew’s ears. She stares in bewilderment at the great tree, hardly believing what she’s being asked.

To question the Elmoar’s will is foolish at best, so Appledew does something she never imagined. She hops off her branch, floats down and lands gently on the child’s shoulder. Focusing her will, she merges her mind with it, sees with its eyes.

The child’s recent memories become Appledew’s. Her heart breaks. She’s hiding behind a cluster of bushes, watching as evil men use sharp metal weapons to murder her father. A beautiful crown of woven branches and flowers falls from his head. They’ve already done the same to her mother and brothers.

They are coming for her next. Choking back sobs, she flees to the forest. Perhaps she can hide there.

Another memory surfaces. A beautiful rose garden. A grove of cherry trees tended with love, far away from here. A bright, tender face lined with age.

Appledew separates her mind from the child’s, eyes brimming with unshed tears. She whispers a few words. The air nearby shimmers and coalesces, forming a connection.

The child looks through the rift and gasps. The cherry trees are full and ripened.

The wind whispers again. “Go,” Appledew says.

The child passes through. The connection fades. Appledew turns toward the human party growing closer to her home.

The wind surges, the Elmoar groans. Appledew’s eyes glow green with purpose. Those, she must kill.