The Lunar Tree

“There once was a fruit that contained magical properties. It was foretold that the nectar of this fruit could cure any disease, heal any wound, erase any ailment. Its flesh was sweeter than anything you had ever tasted, like berries mixed with vanilla and coconut on a hot afternoon. It was also the most beautiful food you had ever seen. So beautiful, you almost did not want to eat it. This wondrous creation of nature was called moon fruit, and it grew on the highest branch of the Lunar Tree, the mystical tree that towered so high above the canopy it made the rest of the forest look like saplings. These cobalt, orb-like treats weren’t around all year, however. They only bloomed on the summer solstice. Not only that, but they didn’t always bloom. These gifts from the heavens only bloomed after tasting the rejuvenating shower of the first summer rainfall. So, once every eleven years, when it rained on the summer solstice, you could look to the top of the highest tree to see their sapphire glow.”

“But, I’m eleven. Why haven’t I ever seen them glow?” the girl questioned as she climbed onto the bed to sit with her Greatmother. The old woman’s expression grew distant, her once teal skin looking more gray in her old age. “Dear little one, you haven’t seen them glow because there hasn’t been a Lunar Tree that’s existed in these woods since I was a child.” “That’s a long time…” The juvenile said. “Yes it is. One hundred and fifty years to be exact.”

Greatmother chuckled before it mutated to a cough. “Why were they called moon fruit?” the little girl continued, her icy blue eyes large with wonder as she sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed. “They were called moon fruit, Taka, because in the daylight they could not be seen. But after night fell, and the moonlight passed through their translucent shell, their blue light could be seen from anywhere in Fluron.” “I want one, greatmother!” the little girl exclaimed. “Child, no one has picked a moon fruit in a very, very long time. Not since the Tormen began their rule.” “You mean the mean people who hide in the mountains?” Taka queried.

Greatmother let out a long, drawn out sigh. “Yes, dear. Those are the ones. They were the last people to hold a moonfruit many years ago. Some believe they still grow it in their alpine gardens, and that is what has allowed them to rule over the other tribes for so long.” “Really?” Taka wondered, “If I had a moonfruit I would want to share it with the other tribes, so everybody could have one.” “That is very kind of you, child. If the little boy who grew up to rule the Tormen had your heart, Fluron would be a much happier place today.” Greatmother shifted in her wooden bed, wincing in pain as she did so. “Why didn’t he share it, Greatmother?” Taka asked with innocent sincerity.

“There are many theories. My father told me that the boy was one of the exalted” the elderly woman mused. “The…egg…salted?” Taka sounded out. “The exalted” Greatmother corrected. “You see, Taka, moonfruit didn’t just have healing capabilities. In certain…special…people, it also unlocked magical powers. For some, it was the gift of wisdom. For others, immortality. Some were even rumored to have been able to fly after tasting its blue nectar.” Taka’s teal face lit up in amazement as her silver eyebrows raised in disbelief. “But, the powers only showed themselves if the person eating the fruit was pure of heart” Greatmother finished. “But the boy in the mountains was mean. How come he got powers?” Taka quizzed. “He wasn’t always mean” Greatmother suggested, “my father knew him well.

The boy discovered his powers, and they led him down a dark path. He became greedy and paranoid. He didn’t always live in the mountains, either. The Tormen used to live in the forest with the rest of us.” “What were they like? Why was the boy mean? Why did he move to the mountains?” Taka rapid-fired, her intrigue peaking. “That, I’m afraid, is a story for another night. It’s time for bed, little one.” The woman shooed Taka off the bed with her leathery hand before starting another coughing fit, sweat building on her forehead.

Taka gave her Greatmother a tender hug before shuffling to the doorway. Before she walked back down the spiral staircase, she turned to look at the old woman. “Greatmother?” she asked. “Yes, child?” “If I got you a moonfruit, would it make you better?” she put forth as the old woman hacked another few coughs out. “Don’t you worry about me, little exalted one. Your Greatmother has been around for one hundred and fifty years, it’ll take more than a little cough to get rid of me. Now, off to bed!” She offered the child a soft smile before rolling over in bed.

Taka hurried down the staircase that twisted down the hollow trunk of the tree, the old wood creaking with each step. She crawled into the small arched doorway halfway down the stairs and nestled in her own wooden cot. She peered out the small porthole window she carved (much to Greatmother’s chagrin) and stared out at the large waterfall that came from the great river that ran down from the mountains.

She wondered about that little boy, about the last moonfruit he once held, and what Fluron was like before he came to power. As her eyes finally closed, a small shimmer illuminated in the distance. It sat on a small ledge, a quarter of the way down the waterfall. It was small, but unmistakable. Under the moonlight, flickering through the back of the rushing water was a bright, sapphire glow.