The Woodcutter and the Tree's Daughter

As long ago as forever, as far away as Selidor, there lived a man called Andaur, a woodcutter, who went up in the hills alone. One day, deep in the forest, he cut a great oak tree down. As it fell it cried out to him in a human voice...

The light shining down through the thick branches above dimmed, flickering as if in pain.  The butterflies fluttering lazy through the writhing light dropped and spun, moving as if in an agonized daze.

The tree's cry, though too human, was a cry without words.  It rang out too clear, too strong.  Eerie lament ringing out through the forest, Andaur collapsed to his knees.  Tears streamed down his aged cheeks, mixing with the sweat and dust of a morning of hard travel into the lower slopes of the snow capped titans standing watch over the valleys and ridges from whence the woodcutter came.

Fingers wide and strong gripped the handle of the ax with a fierceness that turned his knuckles white.  What had he done?  This was no tree, no giver of lumber, no trunk from which to cut kindling and cure for the coming winter's chill.  A gentle sob arose from the tree as the larger branches struggled mightily, the gentle swishing of leaves against the lower brush scratching at the woodcutter's ears, a dying plea.

"...w...we..."

Andaur remembered then to breath, taking a deep breath of air as the swishing halted for a moment, a voice whispering in his ear.

"...we f..."

Andaur dropped the ax and stumbled to his feet, moving hesitantly to the shivering trunk.  The trembling man fell back to his knees and reached for one of the larger branches.

"...we for...forgive you..." with this whispery embrace, the end of the branch turned and lay against the back of Andaur's hand.

The forest was silent.  Birds stared down from the branches as a fearsome hush, a pained silence fell.  Small animals peered from the shadows of the low brush, small eyes falling upon the crying man resting his hands upon the still shivering tree.

"...a boon treeslayer..." a fading whisper in Andaur's ear.

"Yes?" Andaur's eyes carried within a fearful guilt, his hands itching to pull away from the heavy bark of the fallen tree, his feet itching to run.

"...our..."

The tree heaved as the mountains heave when the earth itself leapt.  The thunderous crash of the tree's death throes threw Andaur back, a whispery scream echoing in his ears.

"What do you ask of me!" he screamed as the great tree died.

His plea was lost in the breaking of the branches, the splintering of the trunk, the withering of the leaves and the terrible pain of the whispery cry, cutting through his ears and into the place behind his eyes.  He lay there upon the ground and wept as the tree slowly died.  The forest grew dark though there was no cloud in the sky.

Andaur opened his eyes to find then a strange light coursing back through the thick leaves and limbs above.  The forest still seemed to weep within the shadows caressing the other trees about him.  But there lay, shining above him, a single spear of light, lancing down through shuddering, leafy bough.  The woodcutter, the treeslayer, the trembling man turned to his stomach and rose to all fours, and then to his knees.  The light struck down from above him and lay upon the shattered remains of the dead tree.  Within the splintered remains of the trunk lay a still form.  Andaur scrambled on his hands and knees through the withered leaves and broken limbs.  Clamoring across the mighty boughs he threw himself against the shattered trunk, splinters piercing his unfeeling hands.  Her hair was of the finest autumn tones, skin fair but brushed with the kiss of a gentle summer sun.  Andaur reached out to touch her shoulder, fingers shaking with a guilty fright.  His calloused hands ingrained with dirt to change their color.  She was but a child.  Reclaiming his thoughts he pulled his large and tattered tunic from his back and wrapped the child as best he could in it, hefting her into his arms.  The tree’s daughter.

The thought struck him like the wicked strike of an ax.  A tear fell all alone down his weathered cheek.  He looked back down at the sad corpse amongst which he stood, and nodded.

“I will.”