By Hinamaru
Written from March 11 to March 15, 2025
Word Count: 7,533
Read time: ~30 minutes
They say our world broke apart about two hundred years ago. Right down the middle, like a nut splitting open after hitting the ground. To this day no one knows why it happened. That phenomena, however, tore life as we knew it apart.
Earthquakes, firestorms, tsunamis… all rained down upon earth then. People fled, running farther and farther away from the crack that separated them from the hellish embrace of death. It did not take long for the population to dwindle down to only a handful of people, both lucky and resilient enough to survive those harsh conditions.
On their search for life they stumbled upon something unfamiliar. A tree, reaching all the way up into the heavens, stood amidst a flowerbed of red roses. As the storm rained down, and as the forests burned left and right, this singular tree held on to life. It seemed almost… like a safe haven.
The people rushed into this haven, tramping the beautiful roses under their feet as they made their way towards the great tree. Its leaves and branches, so they say, provided shelter from the rain and protection from the lightning that struck the earth all around them. For hours they stood besides the tree, huddled next to each other to keep warm.
After the storm passed and the wet, rainy season began to fade, a wildfire started to seep through the nearby forest. A thick layer of smoke followed by extreme heat began to envelop the area around them. Yet, under the protection of the tree, the people prevailed. As they tried escaping the incredible heat, they found a crack in the tree’s trunk. The tree bark had split just enough to provide entry for the people, and behind it they found shelter. In a small, huddled space they prevailed for days, standing and lying on top of each other, neither food nor water in sight.
People began to pray, to wish for this hell that had become earth to come to an end. Yet the disaster did not subside. After the fire had seized, another storm was already on its way. Massive surges of water washed across the land, taking anything and everything with it on its way.
Yet, somehow, the tree and its surrounding field of roses stayed unaffected. Legends speak of a split in the waves right as the flower field started, a split which only united after having completely encompassed said flower field. It was like an island surrounded by the ocean.
The people, now surrounded by ravaging waves instead of deadly smoke, found themselves hungry and eager to find food. Those still strong enough to walk exited the protection of the tree, looking up and down their newfound haven to find anything worth eating.
It did not take long for them to look upwards, towards the branches of the great tree. Familiar fruits grew on their ends, fruits that could assure the people’s survival. One after the other dug their hands into the sharp, firm wood bark in an attempt to climb up towards those precious fruits.
At the beginning many failed, falling from the branches down to their death. Those people we call “heroes”, as they died honorably trying to save mankind.
For the moment, humanity was saved. In this save haven, which provided not only shelter but also sustenance, they survived.
Yet even as days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months the storms outside did not subside. A constant balance of storm, fire and flood turned the world into a black, barren wasteland. It took more than a year for the storms to subside, and weather as people had known it to return.
That weather, however, was not enough to rebuild the earth to how it was before. Besides the protection of the great tree all of earth had turned to ash and sand, leaving a black slate that covered all that the eyes could see.
Mountains that once stood in the distance were no more, just like the rivers, forests and plains around it. As far as the eyes could see, all that was left of the earth was a flat plane of black and gray.
However, that blackness stopped abruptly as the flower field began. Next to the black mass bloomed beautiful red roses, engulfing the entire space in a warm and pleasant scent. The people were happy here, almost able to ignore the deathly plains that surrounded them from all sides.
Yet that feeling was not shared by all. A young man, barely an adult yet, faltered under the sheer imagination that the world that had once been had been destroyed. The black mass, or so he believed, could have been nothing more but a visual illusion.
Many stories are told nowadays about that young man. They tell of the way he stared into the distance, how he exclaimed his belief to the people around him. There were some that believed him, eager to find their former homes safe and sound, just behind that visual illusion that was the black mass. He had a glow in his eyes that made the people believe in his vision.
That young man… one day he moved on, into the direction he believed his home to be at. No one knew what motivated him to take action that day, but it is said that all humanity stood near the bark of the tree, watching him head off into the distance. He walked and walked, until he finally found himself standing right at the edge of the flower field. He shouted, exclaimed that he was about to reach his home. With great strides he stepped outside, placing his foot firmly on the black mass behind the flower field. In one moment the people watched, holding their breath in anticipation, and in the next he vanished. As if he had never existed, his body simply seized to exist, leaving none of him or his possessions behind.
Today, I do not believe these stories as rigidly as I did as a kid. The world had been destroyed, and the man was eager to get home, blinded by his wish to return. I was certain he must have suffocated, or died in some other way to the harsh environment outside, and that the elders who wrote those stories simply wanted to create a message for the next generation.
Two hundred years have passed since the day the people found the great tree. Ever since that day, earth as we knew it had become a barren wasteland, uninhabitable and bleak. Looking out into the distance, there was one thing all people were certain of: We must be the last people living on this earth.
Using tools of stone and wood we carved holes into the giant roots of the tree, creating small but livable homes. One room for a person, two for a family. It took us many years to rebuild something akin to society, and to this day we cherish and continue our efforts for that reason.
Through enormous effort we carved our way into the tree trunk, creating a way to reach the high up branches with ease. We became self sustaining, using the tree’s gifts as our sole sustenance.
Nowadays, the great rose field is no more. Too much we walked from place to place for such a thing to sustain itself, and even though we mourn its loss today we see it as a necessary sacrifice. Only the edges of the field are still intact, reminding us of the space that we have, and what boundaries not to overstep. The stories of the young man serve as warning, a warning each and every person here takes heeds faithfully.
The great tree still was and still is our only salvation, all we have to shield us from the death that surrounds us. In those two hundred years, and I was sure the next two hundred as well, nothing would change that fact. We would continue existing here and only here, never to exit the heavenly field granted to us by the great tree.
I awoke to she smell of fruits and roses. A pleasant smell I cherished each and every morning. After all, it was a gift of the great tree.
My room was one of many carved into the big root that stretched almost all the way towards the flower garden. It held a bed, a table, two chairs and a wardrobe. While it was one of the smaller rooms inside the root, I was still very happy. After all, the root was thinnest near the tree, bringing me ever closer to its greatness. Many did not believe in such things as much as I did, but that would not deter me. I quickly dressed myself, then went out the door.
The blazing sun shone into my eyes as I left my room. It surprised me, forcing me to protect my eyes with my hand. I wondered why the sun shone so brightly that day, as it was normally obstructed by the tree’s branches.
I looked over to the great tree, which stood as tall and impressive as ever. Something was off, however: I saw not a single person working up on the branches.
Confused, I looked over towards the sun again, trying my best to block its rays with my hand. Carefully I counted the branches right below the sun, starting with the lowest one. One, two, tree, four… and then there was the sun.
I almost let out a gasp. Only four branches… that meant it was just 4 o’clock! No wonder no one was working yet, it was still extremely early into the day. My normal shift only started around 7, after all.
Still, managing to stand up this early seemed like some sort of miracle to me. Quickly I turned towards the tree, putting my hands together and bowing slightly.
“Thank you, oh mighty tree, to wake me this early.”
Having said my thanks I decided to stroll around a little. No one was able to be mad at me for not working at this time of day, right?
At first I moved to a place called the intersection. Two giant roots had grown on top of each other, creating a huge bump the size of maybe 5 or 6 peoples’ height. It was a monumental sight to behold each time one passed it. I wondered what the people living here thought of it, seeing it each and every day.
Only a few people were walking around, most of them elderly. Not wanting to disturb their morning peace I made my way further towards the tree.
Somehow my need for a stroll started to fade already. I wanted to visit the playground, look at the great hole or see what the “underground tunnels” everyone was talking about where all about. Yet… the more I wandered around, the more I noticed the great tree in the distance. It felt like it was calling me, or at the very least I felt drawn to it. Was it my sense of duty? Or simply my eagerness to get close to that magnificent thing once more?
Without stopping to look at the scenery I made my way straight towards the tree, right until I stood only a few meters away from its massive trunk.
A gate of immense size stood before me. Even though I passed it each and every day it still amazed me. It sealed off the entrance to the hollowed trunk of the mighty tree so that kids and troublesome folk could not enter. Adorned with carvings and paintings it portrayed a beautiful picture, a sign of human ingenuity.
To my surprise, a guard was stationary right in front of it, despite the early hours. He seemed sleepy, his eyes having deep black circles below them. I waved my hand to greet the man, who looked very surprised to see me.
“Working early today?”
“The tree seems to call me early today. May I enter?”
The guard yawned before turning his back to me, approaching the small gap in the mighty gate. Not all appreciated the great tree as much as I did, and I was sure this man was not different. Using all his strength he pulled, until the gap between the doors was just big enough for one person to slip through. I thanked the man, then slipped in.
Not a moment later the gate closed behind me again. The precautions put in place to protect this place… it made me grateful to be allowed to work here.
Turning away from the gate again, I laid eyes upon the beautify that was the interior of the great tree.
Millions of fireflies swarmed around, creating a beautiful rhythmic sound. We called it “the sound of the tree”, as we saw the fireflies as a part of it. According to legends, the fireflies inherited the tree long before humanity carved its way inside.
As the day was young many of the fireflies were still asleep, or at the very least unwilling to fly around. As such, they did not block one’s sight as much as normally. Thanking the tree for this opportunity I slowly turned my head upwards.
The structure that was created inside the tree was almost entirely manmade. The first generation found a small crack inside the tree to hide in, one that was barely big enough to fit everyone. As the years went on and the people became tired of climbing the tree to get to its precious fruits, the people made a vote to decide whether to carve their way inside the great tree. As such, a great effort began to hollow out the inside of the great trees trunk, one that continues on to this very day.
Normally, when one was to stare upwards one was greeted with a plethora of fireflies obstructing the view. Today, however, that sight was as free as looking up into the sky.
It felt as if I had escaped reality, and fallen into a dream. The sight seemed otherworldly, making my eyes tear up a little. A huge winding staircase, carved into the walls of the trunk reached up and up, seemingly never ending. It was like the house of a snail, winding and winding without end. Beautiful sigils and immaculate art was carved and drawn on to each and every step, making this place feel like heaven on earth. Holes the size of a regular person were carved into the walls. They led outside, on to the branches of the great tree.
This was the place where I worked. Enthusiastically I lowered my head again, looking around the ground floor to search for a basket I could use. The ground floor was used as a museum of sorts, trying to conserve humanities inventions and accomplishments. After all, there was no place on earth safer than the inside of the great tree.
I moved past two statues on my way to find a basket big enough for me. The first was called “the building”. It was apparently made out of stone, and had a strange symmetrical shape. Apparently humanity lived in creations like this before the great tree gave us its roots for shelter. The second was called “the worker”. It was a human wearing strange clothing, none of which I understood the reason for. Apparently it belonged to one of the people from the first generation, which would explain why they were as tethered and rugged as they were. Nowadays, we barely wore any clothing, and what we did wear was much more natural, consisting mostly of leafs and plant stems.
Not wanting to waste more time on things from a time before mine, I grabbed the biggest basket I could find. It laid on the ground next to many others, woven out of the small branches from the tree. Keeping them in best condition was extremely important, as we didn’t have many of them. The big basket was one of the first created, with every subsequent basket getting smaller and smaller. The reason for this was people’s fear of damaging them, which was much easier to avoid with a smaller size.
I, however, felt confident that day. Carrying down more fruits like the others as well as starting earlier than them… it felt like I was really doing my part. Enthusiastically I threw the basket over my shoulder and began climbing the stairs.
As I started my ascend, I remembered that which I was taught, and what was important to my task. I tried to remember the teachings.
The amount of fruits the tree grew became smaller and smaller each year. People suspected that this might be due to how much we already hollowed out from the great tree, but when confronted with the idea of having to climb up the tree again all opposition abruptly turned silent.
The solution we found was to simply go higher. After all, the almighty tree spanned the heavens, leaving much space for fruits to grow higher up. For me, this meant having to climb up many more stairs each year just to get to new, previously unused branches. As I was one of the younger ones I was expected to climb the branches higher up, and I did so with a great sense of duty.
That was not the only thing we found out, however. According to the first generation, some of the tree’s fruits resembled those they knew from their time at earth. They created a logbook, to keep us from picking the fruits that did not resemble what they already knew. The fear of illness kept the first generation from trying out any of the other fruits, which was a tradition carried on all the way to today. Nowadays, simply picking one of those forbidden fruits was seen as a crime, punished by never having access to the tree’s trunk ever again. This meant, however, that we were leaving more and more fruits untouched the higher we got, increasing the need to go higher each and every day.
I was giggling to myself, happy for the great honor of climbing the great tree. My sense of duty filled me, making me daydream.
“I will explore this branch, then move down and pick more fruits from the lower branches until my basket was filled to the brim. The people will ask ‘why is my branch empty?’ just to see me with the biggest basket filled to the brim!”
This was the motivation I held inside me, and the motivation with which I rushed up the stairs, my walk turning into a rush as I got higher and higher.
After a long ascend, drenched from top to bottom in sweat, I found myself in front of a previously unopened gap in the tree’s trunk. The branch behind it had never been walked on by another human, I was sure of it.
Tightly I gripped my basket, smiling from ear to ear. I breathed in slowly, then with great strides made my way outside.
It took some effort to get myself and the basket through the rather tight hole. For a second I wondered why it felt so much smaller than the others, but I quickly put that on the bigger basket I was carrying.
A huge gust of wind washed over me the second I stepped outside. It was a cold breeze, much colder than anything I had ever felt before. Under the protection of the great tree there existed no seasons like people told in ancient stories, but a constant warm climate. Only the sun’s way across the heavens stayed the same.
I was a little taken aback by the sudden change in temperature, but I quickly found a way to explain it. After all, the higher you got up the great tree the colder it got. Maybe this proved a new step for humanity, like the tree trying to tell us that we reached the next step. My mind filled with anticipation and eagerness, certain that I would find out something grand that day.
Stepping carefully on to the branch in front of me, I felt a sudden rush of cold run through my feet up my entire body. This sensation was one I had never felt before, accustomed to the warm climate below. My eagerness quickly went awry, replaced by worry. Whatever I was stumbling into, it was so far away from what I was accustomed to that I grew afraid.
Still, my sense of duty compelled me. The branches below, while not entirely dried out, were growing fewer fruits year after year. I was absolutely certain that climbing higher up and up the tree was what humanity was destined to do. Reaching for the heavens was always part of human nature, or at least that was what the first generation always preached.
I hooked my arm through the basket’s handle and swung it over my shoulder, ready to take another step on to the ice cold branch below me. Lowering myself on to all fours, I found my right hand touching the branch next. The same cold sensation flowed through my body, making me shiver. This was unnatural, so much so that fear almost took over my mind. Slowly I began to do what every mentor advised those that climb the tree never do: look down.
My eyes went wide as I looked besides the branch, downwards. I had some sense of how high up I must have been, and I knew that looking down from there would shake me with fear. This height I was at, however, was much higher than I had anticipated. It was as if I stood above the clouds, at the top of the great tree.
There was no ground beneath me. No, there weren’t even any branches below. Were my eyes playing tricks on me? Was this what the elders called “fear of heights”? I could not persuade my mind to believe it. Not once did they talk about it distorting your vision to this degree.
I quickly turned my eyes away from the horrible heights and stared at the branch below me. It was a thick, rugged branch with lots of bark to hold on to. For all I knew, it was as optimal a branch as anyone could hope for. Someone of my climbing expertise should have no trouble staying on top of it, I could probably even walk on it if I wanted to. I moved my fingers across the strong, sometimes sharp bark. It felt just the way any other bark felt, if not even a little more rugged.
Slowly I exhaled, trying to calm my mind. Lowering my head on to the bark, I thanked the great tree.
“Thank you for providing this magnificent branch for me to climb on, oh great tree. You ease my fear as you always do.”
After only a moment I felt my strength return to me. My mind became clear, and my body stopped shaking. The cold air rippled through my hair, but it did not affect me anymore. This branch… it was a challenge given to me by the great tree. Succeeding in this task was possibly the most important thing I’d ever do in my entire life. No matter what would become of me, I was determined to see it through to the end. Using all the courage in my body I moved on, holding tightly on to the sharp bark below me.
Reaching forward I held on to a part of the branches’ bark, gripping it tightly, enough so to make my skin split. Warm blood flowed down my finger, slowly but surely finding its way downward. Next came my foot, digging deeply into the sharp bark below it. The way was no easy one, but with all the cold surrounding me I saw no other way to move forward.
I had no idea how far I’d already crawled across the branch, but no matter how far I crawled no fruit came into sight. How I wished for the courage to simply look forward, to see existed stood right ahead of me. But my eyes were glued to the branch below, scared look down, too scared to take their gaze off the comforting branch below me. As long as I stayed here, no matter if I moved forwards or stayed still, I would stay safe here.
As the cold continued to creep on to me, and as I found my body to stiffen and hurting, I finally found the strength inside me to look forward. Slowly, my body filled with fear, I turned my head upwards.
My eyes went wide as I saw that which stood before me. Only a small distance from me the branch ended, with no fruits hanging on it at all. I quickly moved forward, ignoring the signs of hurt my body was giving me, until I reached the very tip of the branch.
There was nothing here, not even one of the forbidden fruits. It was an empty branch, nothing on it at all. As I realized this I felt the wounds on my fingertips feet start to hurt, felt the stiffness of my body and the weakness of my bones. I was a wreck, only as strong as an old person at best, and as such my muscles gave way. The cold had found its way into my soul, destroying me from the inside out. Slumping over the edge of the branch my eyes found their way downwards again. A white nothingness enveloped everything, as if nothing but the branch below me still existed. Was I above the clouds? It made no sense, considering I only went up a few more steps than the day before.
As I laid there, unable to move, the cold taking over my skin and bones, I reminisced on the life I had lived. It was a sudden end, was it not? Just a second ago I felt eager, ready to take on the great challenges of life. Had the tree forsaken me? I hoped not, wishing for it to save me. Taking all the strength I had left in my arms I tried to cross them in a prayer, wishing for the tree to save me from this disposition. It was a tremendously difficult task, simply trying to get one arm over to the other. Tears started welling up inside my eyes, my body slowly understanding what was about to happen in only a few moments.
For a moment, no, only a singular second I doubted the great tree. A little devil inside of me spoke up, telling me of the many misdeeds it saw in the great tree.
“What if the great tree wishes death upon you?”
It spoke to me in a minuscule, yet terrifyingly evil voice.
“What if the great tree is the reason for the world to be this way?”
I did not understand the reasoning of that devilish entity, nor did I find myself agreeing with it. Yet, feeling myself at the doorstep of death, doubt crept into my mind. It was not a logical thing, nothing but sheer emotion. Yet for that small second I cursed the great tree, hated it with my entire being. In this singular second I saw it burning in front of my eye, a great flame kindled by its leafs and fruits, the bark enveloped by a blindingly bright red flame. My body stiffened, yet this time not from the cold but from sheer rage. As my muscles contracted and my hands began to form into fists, I suddenly felt something in between my fingertips.
In a moment all those horrible images faded from my mind, and I looked over to see that which I held in my hand. It was a fruit… one I had never seen before. It form was round, almost a perfect sphere. Holes were punctured all around its surface, giving a strangely symmetric appearance. It felt perfect, much too perfect to be something organic.
I knew how to handle fruits like those. They were forbidden. Even simply plucking them would get me into big trouble, restricting me from ever accessing the great tree again. Every ounce of my being told me that I should let go of it, to crawl back into the safety of the tree’s trunk. Yet, there still was doubt in my mind. It was not the devil speaking, or any voice at all.
Through sheer willpower I managed to sit up, my body aching as I did. I could feel my flesh tear off the tree bark below, but it did not interest me.
There I sat, the illusive fruit in hand. I stared at it deeply, everything else around me turning into nothing in my mind. After a short while, a tear crept up from my right eye, slowly running down my cheek and down my chin, dripping down to my legs.
“Are you testing me… great tree? Is this… your will?”
Death loomed over me. I could feel my body going limp, my bones and skin surrender to the cold around me. In my last moments, during the last second of free thought I had, I felt like the final piece of this trial had begun. If the tree was testing me, would it safe me from certain death? Would it protect me like it always did? Or would it surrender me, would it make an example out of me for some misdeed unknown to me? Maybe we were never meant to climb this far. Maybe this was divine punishment.
Yet despite these oppressing feelings I found myself confronted with a choice. This fruit… was it not a gift from the tree? I could not for certain say why the first generation banished them so.
It was so beautiful.
So very, very beautiful.
I was sure it was so deliciou-
Suddenly I found my teeth tearing through the fruits flesh. Like a savage beast I tore off the skin, revealing the fleshy substance below. It had a red hue, and a texture similar of fruits I was used to eating. Its juicy insides filled my mouth, and without thinking I tore deeper into it, ripping it apart like a starving animal.
None of this was my free will. I felt compelled. My mind went blank as I watched my body move on its own, disobeying the signals I gave to it to stop. Again and again it dug its teeth into the fleshy insides of the fruit, slurping up its insides just to take another bite right after. In a matter of seconds the fruit had disappeared, now nothing but a red speck on my clothes and skin.
My eyes went wide as I looked down. The skin of the fruit that splattered on to my skin and clothing looked indistinguishable from my blood. Scared I jumped up, almost losing my footing in the process.
My strength had returned to me. I felt warm again, none of the cold from earlier still lingering in my skin. Feeling a sense of relief, I could not help myself but laugh. And laugh I did, so much so that my ribcage started hurting.
I had survived. This was not the feeling of death. The challenges the tree had given me… I had surpassed them.
…
“A-aaaaaah!”
A cry of fear appeared next to me. It was that of a woman, one I had often worked together with. I quickly looked over to where the sound came from, scared for what might have happened.
Yet all I saw was that woman sitting on the same branch as me, her face red and her body shaking aggressively. He finger pointed my way as she continued to shout.
“Devil! Devil! Ahhhhhh!”
Terror filled her voice, which cracked multiple times as she spoke. As her body continued to shake the basket that sat next to her tipped over, falling down the branch towards the ground below.
“Y-you dropped your-”
I did not understand what was happening, but dropping the basket was a big offense. She was distressed, and someone needed to explain the situation to those in charge. I did not want her to get punished, after all.
Yet as I came closer, extending my arm in an effort to help her stand up she began to shout again.
Her eyes went wide, her pupils expanding as if on an acid trip. Foam formed around her mouth, some of which shooting out as her teeth chattered in fear. It was when I saw this pitiful, sorry sight that I stopped, afraid that I might be the reason for all her distress.
And truth behold, the second I stopped she crawled backwards, shouting and crying as she did . It shook me to my very core, as I did not understand it at all. Was it the fruit I ate? Surely it was no reason for a reaction this severe.
I looked at my hands, seeing the red that enveloped them. Maybe it was its blood-like color that scared her? I needed to wash them later, if I was not immediately thrown into jail that was.
Still I felt proud. I accomplished the task the tree had given me. Surely it would gift me great fortune now that I had accomplished what it wanted from me.
Yet as I started to smile a strange sound reached my ears. It was a sizzling sound, one I felt like I’d heard before. Every night, after the work was done, I heard it. I was sure of it.
It was the sound of a bonfire.
Looking past my hands I saw the branch below me engulfed in flames. Together with my feet it burned brightly, the bark under it crackling as it gave way to the fire.
In an instant I panicked.
Was the tree on fire? What if that fire spread?
Quickly I jumped forward, trying to get away from it. Anxious of burning myself I leapt far, nearly losing my footing as I landed. Yet the second I landed the fire caught up to me, engulfing my foot and moving up to my shins.
I quickly pat down the flames, but to no avail. As long as I stood inside the fire those flames would not extinguish, but only seep up further. I had to create distance.
And so I did, my walk turning into a sprint as I ran towards the great tree. It did not take me long to enter trunk, ready to warn those inside of the apparent danger.
As I placed my foot on top of one of the stairs I got ready to shout. The moment I did, however, a hot sensation ran over me. It burned, a pain I had never felt before. My voice was unable to produce sound because of it.
I looked down, anxious to see that which I expected to see. My body was on fire, which had seeped all the way up my waist, reaching my clothing. That, in turn, quickly caught fire itself, which rapidly ascended up towards my face.
Through miraculous hand-eye-coordination I managed to get the cloth off of me, throwing it backwards out towards the branch. I hoped to cease the amount the fire would spread by removing it, but it became readily apparent that that was a senseless endeavor. The fire had spread… into the inside of the tree trunk.
I ran down as fast as I could, trying to extinguish the fire sticking to my body as best I could. It simply wouldn’t come off, no matter what I did.
As I ran down faster and faster, many times almost stumbling as I did, a question began posing itself in my mind. Why had the fire started? What was the source of it? Was I somehow responsible for it? Whatever the reason may be, it made my heart race a million times faster than it ever had, leaving me in a state of frenzy. I felt agitated, anxious, worried and terrified all at the same time.
After what felt like an eternity I finally found myself at the ground floor. No people stood here, all of them most likely already evacuated. Still, the absolute absence of anyone at all left me deeply disturbed. What about the great tree? Was no one going to shield it from its demise? We take and claim all it provides, but in the face of its demise we stand united in indifference?
No, I had to get those evil thoughts out of my mind. I did not have much time, my body now almost entirely engulfed in flames. What little time I had left I had to use wisely, to bring those people outside to save the almighty tree.
I rushed out, the huge gate that once stood closed before me now stood open, gaping wide. As my foot touched the soft grass right outside the tree trunk I found a blindingly bright light obstructing my vision. Still I pressed on, walking forward steadily until something stopped me. It was a voice.
“Demon! You shall pay for what you’ve done!”
The voice belonged to the village elder. He held the highest position in our society, and acted as the primary caregiver of the great tree. I was sure he would listen to reason, that he was going to save the tree.
It only took my eyes a moment longer to adjust to the brightness. The sun had nearly finished its journey across the horizon, hovering just above the edge before plunging the world into night. From that position it shone brightly, its rays pointing directly towards the entrance of the tree.
Before me stood a gallery of people. It was colleagues and friends, fellow workers I knew well. I was sure they would understand the direness of the situation. Taking another step forward, I got ready to convince them to extinguish the flames. I had no idea how we were supposed to accomplish such a feat, but I was sure with enough manpower we would be able to do it.
I opened my mouth, but just as I did the village elder spoke up.
“Banish him from our haven! Banish him!”
It was then that I noticed them staring. The peoples’ attention was not on the fire or the tree, not at all. All eyes laid entirely on me.
“He ate a forbidden fruit!” - a middle aged man proclaimed.
“He plans to corrupt this place!” - a young woman shouted.
With tools in hand, ranging from knifes to brooms they stood around me in a half circle. Hate filled their gazes, staring at me with murderous intent. It scared me to the very bone, making my voice fail me once more.
“We should kill the demon!”
“Yes, kill it!”
“Kill it! Kill it!”
The crowd began to shout louder and louder, until a deafening wall of sound was all that managed to reach my eyes anymore. I tried to counter it, warn them of the impeding dangers, but to no avail. As I turned around to look at the great tree, my symbol of hope and serenity, I saw nothing but a huge wall of fire. The flames had crept upwards, the leafs and fruits of the tree serving as sustenance. I was sure that more than half the tree was already on fire. Was there… anything we could still do?
“Silence, people!”
It was the elder again, somehow capable of controlling the anger of the masses. Was he about to tell the people of the fire? Certainly he must have noticed, have thought of the consequences all this would bring. I wondered, no, I wished for that to be the case. My hope in him had long turned into simple wishes.
“We shall banish it to the dead earth. It shall rot outside the beautiful flower field, for all of us to watch.”
I felt all hope lost. One last time I looked up towards the great tree, now almost entirely covered in fire. The branches I had used just earlier today to judge the time were already burning. There was not much left to save from this.
With tools and shouts the people pushed me towards the edge of the flower field, stopping just short of the dead earth that waited outside. As I looked at them and through them, I saw the roots burning, throwing up huge amounts of smoke as they crumbled under the immense heat of the fire.
I simply stood there in confusion, exhaustion. What had caused the fire? Why had this branch felt so utterly cold? What were those things I felt and heard back then?
I was certain it was the tree’s will.
A wish it wanted to fulfill.
With me as a vessel, a means to an end.
The great, almighty tree burned and crumbled at the seams, a visual spectacle only comparable to that of hell. Yet the people did not stop to look towards it. Did not take care to listen to the crackling of the flames, did not stop to suspect the smell of burning wood filling their nostrils?
No, they never tried to save the great tree. Because despite all it gave us, all the protection and sustenance it provided, we never saw it as anything more than a tool.
We trampled its flower field.
We carved out its insides.
We took all and gave nothing back.
I had no idea, no way of knowing if any of this was correct, but I felt a great sense of understanding as those thoughts went through my mind. Maybe I was the only one that didn’t see the tree as a tool, but as a holy entity? Maybe the others did not shower it with praise each time they ate its fruits, did not ask for forgiveness after ascending further and further upwards inside its trunk.
Maybe that was all it was. The tree trying to free itself from the infestation that had taken hold for two hundred years now. By turning me into a demon, a thing no short of absolute evil, it created an opportunity to destroy itself.
I could not help but smile. It did not matter whether my faith-blinded sight was correct or not. All that mattered was what I felt, that the tree had given me its greatest and most difficult task. In the end, maybe I was just as selfish as those humans that stood at the edge of our sacred haven, ready to push me out towards my doom, deserving of death and destruction.
All it took was a little push. I did not know who did, and it did not matter to me. That push, however, was enough to make me stumble backwards on to the dead earth.
In an instant I felt my lungs empty, my skin crumble and my bones give way. There was an oppressive gravity pushing me downwards, together with a ruggedness in the air that made my skin feel like it would peel right off.
My skin had become black like tar, the fire that engulfed it extinguished as I hit the ground. My eyes began to lose focus, my muscles stopped listening to my commands. The way I laid down here, on this dead and tarnished mass that was once called earth, it was the way I would die.
With my vision eroded all I saw was bundles of light. A bright red light began to creep its way towards me, and with it came the sound of shouting and crying. The people must have finally taken notice of the flames.
As I laid there, my end imminent, one last thought sparked inside my mind.
The first generation preached of a god they believed in, one that created the earth and mankind.
The second generation challenged that idea, arguing the destruction of earth was unanimous with god’s death.
The third generation started to believe in the teachings of the world the first generation left on their deathbed. They studied arts and architecture, trying to rebuild society as it once was. They forsook the tree’s greatness for that of humanity.
The fourth generation, that which I belonged to, decided to expand. It did not care for old teachings, art or even the tree. Society grew, and with it did the population. All that mattered was to feed the people, and keep life good and easy.
I guessed the tree did want to wait out another generation. Through two hundred years of exploitation and destruction we forgot ourselves, forgot the haven that was granted to us. Forgot that it was a gift, not a tool to be used and abused.
Hearing the pleas for help, the sound of crackling flames not far from me, a singular belief made itself apparent to me. A mistake humanity made all those years. In all the years it prevailed inside this haven…
… humanity never worshiped the great tree.