The Emerald Wood's Woman

When magic and legend were established in the woodlands, there lived a lady who aged according to the moon's cycles. She lived far from the monarchy that claimed to dominate the nation, far from the shadows that hung over men's souls. Only by venturing beyond the mountains fashioned like two sleeping bears and into the Emerald Wood could one locate her. Only a handful would ever meet her, for she was a solitary creature who remained cloaked to all those to whom she did not care to disclose herself. Her existence has been passed down through the centuries as a legend. The Woman of the Emerald Wood was as old as the Earth itself, and her wisdom swelled and faded with the moon each month.

She was the Maiden while the moon was waxing, and her purity and curiosity spilled into the woodland, filling it with delight. She was the Mother when the moon was full, her fertility and loving presence bringing life, growth, and abundance to the animals and plants in her wood. She was the Crone while the moon was declining, and her advice was sought and shunned. She delivered death to those who grew feeble with age in this incarnation.

During the spring season, a little girl began to wander towards the Emerald Wood. Esme's name was Esme, and she was 16 years old, nearing the end of her adolescence. Esme had heard legends about this forest and the old woman who animated it since she was a child. Her obsession with this iconic lady had led her to the forest, where she hoped she would show herself to her and impart her knowledge. She had been taught that in order to connect with the lady, she needed to first connect with the forest. So she went there every day in the early morning hours to walk the woods. She shared her deepest thoughts with the trees. She retold stories about animals and plants from her childhood to the animals and plants. She sang songs to the birds and acknowledged and interacted with every stone, plant, and animal she came across on her journey.

She got to know the forest as a friend, and the forest got to know her as a part of itself.

Esme was walking through the forest one day when she noticed a dancing figure out of the corner of her eye. Flowers and lights sprouted at her heels, and it was a young woman. She was the stuff of dreams, gleaming and glinting beneath the trees. Esme almost burst into tears when she realized it was the woman of the woods. She felt her presence within her spirit as if it were physical. She cried out to her and began running towards her dancing form.

When she got near, the Maiden slowed her motions to a stop, which surprised Esme because she'd never seen anything like it. She paused for a while to examine the Maiden's young features more closely. She appeared to be approximately the same age as Esme. Her eyes were the color of seafoam, and they radiated purity and naivety reminiscent of Esme's own youth. Beauty was a human term, hence beauty would not be the Maiden's word. She was a manifestation of awe. Esme had the impression that she had known her for a long time. They exchanged glances and chuckled like old friends. "Oh!" said the Young Maiden. I've been dying to meet you for so long, my dear friend! You've been at the back of my mind for as long as you've had a name. Come on in! "Come on in!"

Esme placed the Maiden's hand in hers, and pictures of blossoming flowers, moonlight, and white pearls raced through her head. She attempted to explain what she couldn't say with words, and the Maiden nodded as if she got it. For hours, they chatted about the boundless beauties of the Emerald Wood and the world beyond. They were both in the midst of the springtime of their lives. Esme, on the other hand, was experiencing her first and final spring. Her youth would only come around once. When night fell, the two young ladies strolled under the light of the waxing moon, and the Maiden vanished into the breeze between the tall grass.

When Esme returned home, she couldn't stop herself from telling her mother and father about her encounter. Her enthusiasm was burning her from the inside out, and each syllable drifted out of her lips like a speck of ash rising beneath a wind. This worried her father, who was a sensible guy who thought fairy tales like this were only frivolous parts of a child's imagination. After all, Esme was maturing into a lady, and women had to participate in societal dramas. Despite Esme's sobs, she has whisked away the next morning to live in the kingdom. Esme first felt as if a piece of her soul had been taken away from her.

However, as time passed and Esme grew dissatisfied with the world around her, she became engrossed in the drama of the kingdom's countless, useless narratives. The Emerald Wood and the lady who animated it faded into legend, becoming nothing more than a hazy story wrapped in superstition. Esme grew older and no longer glanced up at the moon to see its many phases. She quickly fell in love and married a lovely guy, but this was the only enchantment she had seen since the Emerald Wood. She was now a lady in her forties, nearing the end of her life. She had the impression that time was passing her by without her permission. She felt an extreme alienation from the world, which scared her more than dragons and serpents.

One day, Esme heard a voice from outside her window, as if to say, "Esme, come outside and look at the moon!" It sorely misses you!" So she followed this inexplicable invitation and sat on the moist grass outside her house to view the gorgeous full moon. As she basked in the moonlight, she got a distinct impression that it contained an old and familiar companion. The moon's light grew stronger and brighter until all that remained was its milky glow as if she were being swallowed by it. It passed quickly, and she found herself back in the Emerald Wood. All of her memories flooded back to her like a tsunami in a tomb as soon as she realized where she was.

It pushed her down onto the grass, and as soon as she got up again, she noticed a person approaching her. It was the lady, but she wasn't the Maiden any longer. Her tummy was round with kid, and she was beaming and as full as the moon. Esme wept at her sight, and the Mother's maternal presence appeared to cleanse her of her disillusionment. As the Mother spoke, petals spilled from her mouth, "My beautiful child, you've been lost to yourself," she reached out and caressed Esme on the inside of her hands. "Oh!" said Esme. "How much have I missed!" She closed her eyes and wept for the enchantment that had been taken from her. She was back outside her home in the realm of the kingdom and the shadows when she opened them again.

When she glanced down at her hands, she noticed that two white moonflowers had sprouted from where the Mother had touched them.

Esme spent the next several years telling everyone and anyone who would listen about the magical world that existed. She explained the Emerald Wood, the Maiden, and the Mother to them. The majority of them gave her a sidelong glance. Even when she showed them her flowers, they insisted that anyone who believed in fairy stories was a stupid idiot. Her hands were strewn with petals. Even her spouse appeared to dismiss her.

"I know dear, I know," he says as if comforting a kid. Her voice became weaker over time as a result of her sermonising. Esme was feeling the effects of time and gravity, and she yearned for her youth on occasion. Her hair had become silver, and the creases on her face had burrowed deep into her skin.

She realized it was time to return to her rightful place. It was time to return home. She chose to leave the kingdom, and with one final kiss on her husband's brow, she set off on her trip on a stormy December day. It seemed as though the cold wind was dragging her weak figure closer to home. She strolled across the two sleeping bear-shaped mountains on weathered legs. She arrived at the Emerald Wood after 4 days and 3 nights, on one of the darkest days of the year. The declining moon was covered by calm darkness, but Esme remembered every rock, tree, and secret nook of the woodland she grew up in despite the lack of moonlight. She sang to the wild spirit of the Emerald Wood, as she had done since she was a child.

After a lifetime of feeling dissatisfied with her surroundings, she now felt as though she was resuming her real shape. Esme didn't recognize the Woman of the Emerald Wood when she saw her. She was now a Crone, and she was as frail as Esme. However, under her seafoam eyes, the Crone carried an ancient knowledge that seemed to carry comprehension of the secrets of life and death. Esme gazed down at her palms, which were shriveling up as the Crone approached. Esme was aware of what was to come, yet she was unafraid. Life was a gift given to the lady with the prospect of death, and this is what made it wonderful.

The Crone felt her name, her bones and flesh shed from her spirit, as she touched the blossoms inside her palms. She merged with the Crone, and they became one. They began their dance through the woods, looking back at the dead shell on the forest floor, searching for the weak and tired to join them in their dance. However, this is hardly a depressing ending. After a few short nights, the moon would be waxing, and the Maiden would once again bring wonder and vitality to her domain.