Chenda sat cross-legged before a slender maple tree. She had sung every song she knew, used every herb she had ever seen, and still the maple tree, Hyla, was dying. It looked surreal to Chenda, the maple branches swaying in the nonexistent wind, the trunk groaning, the tree shivering and the leaves a strange black. Chenda remembered Hyla's birth, she remembered playing beside the growing sapling, a mere child herself.
"Hyla," she whispered softly, placing her hand gently on the trunk of the maple, "Hyla, listen," and Chenda began the song of soothing. At this point, all she could hope to do was give her friend some peace in her final moments. An ominous sputtering sound came from nearby, the signal of when fire was about to erupt from the ground. Chenda knew she should move away, but her legs didn't respond, and she continued singing to Hyla. The popping sound was very loud, and very close, when, with a final shudder, Hyla's spirit fled. Chenda bent her head and her tears watered the earth above Hyla's lifeless roots. For a brief moments she had a wild thought of dousing the fire with her tears, but she stood and ran, leaving the maple far behind. She ran and sang the song of mourning, something one would hear often in Doherwos Forest nowadays. She ran far- all the way to the center of the forest. There Patja Doherwos also swayed without wind, his massive trunk groaning dangerously. Chenda leaned up against the diseased Patja to catch her breath. The bark, though always shaded, was warm to the touch.
"Chenda, my child," called on of the elders, beckoning her to him. Chenda came forward obediently, looking at the cluster of wise Dryads, the one that called her over was holding a leaf-message in his hands.
"We need you to do something for us, my child," he said as she stood silently next to the group, "We have just recieved word from Fawzi," Chenda allowed herself a peak at the face of the elder, and judged that the news, though good, was unexpected, "He had discovered a forest entirely abandoned by elves. He has not, however, found any way of helping Doherwos, so he plays to move further to the West," the elder gave a slight sneer: Dryads traditionally stayed in the East, the West being considered dangerous and foreign.
"We want you to go with a group there, as their healer," said another Elder, patting her arm gently. Chenda felt as if the air was sucked from her lungs: Leave Doherwos?! Impossible! Every feeling was against it. She felt the color leave her cheeks and felt the need to simply fall to the ground and cry to Patja Doherwos. But he would not hear her. Or, if he did, he would be unable to provide her any comfort.
"I apologize if my work here as been unsatisfactory, as I realize it has done little to aleviate the disease. If I could have a little more time, perhaps-"
"Chenda," interrupted an elder, "you have been told what you must do- surely you will do it well and properly." Chenda was effectively silenced. She gave a bow and went to pack. She did so, and then went to say goodbye to her mother.
"Mother," she said, "I am being sent to the West, where Fawzi is."
"Chenda, but surely the elders would not permit this! You are needed to much here! And, besides, the west is a dangerous place. It's bad enough Fawzi had to go there to seek help. I fear," but her mother was unable to say anymore, looking at her daughter's face she read the full story.
"Sit down, my daughter," she said softly, sitting herself on the hard earth. Chenda joined her, "Give me your hand, little one," her mother said, holding out her own, Chenda obeyed, and her mother bent over the tiny palm, "This journey will be long, but good for you," she read, nodding, "Loss and gain will both be your companions, and danger will stalk your steps, and you must keep your wits about you, my little one." Chenda hugged her mother, and then said goodbye to her father and siblings. She left Doherwos with four others by sunset.
Thu Oct 13, 2011 10:23 pm