Birth of a Dryad

Birth of a Dryad (2445)

Sometimes when a seedling rises out of the ground, a spirit takes root within it. Sometimes that spirit is of one who's body had died, but the spirit was too strong to move on. Too strong to need to pass into that veil where spirits rest before returning once again. Those spirits do not find a flesh body to bind to but a rather one of the earth. And that is how Dryads are born. A spirit bound to a tree, sometimes taking physical shape but mostly protector of and protected by their tree.

~*~*~

"Witch!"

She ran from the voices. She ran from the hurled stones. She ran from the prejudice and hate that had swelled like puss in a wound in the hearts of people she had once worked side by side with.

"Evil whore!"

What had blackened once kind and accepting men? What had turned their passion into anger? What had turned enjoyment of something so natural into something now thought of as sinful? Was physical pleasure of the bed no longer enjoyed with the emotional bond of two people?

A stone struck her thigh. It stung. The muscle threatened to revolt, but still she ran. Movement from her left made her turn and head right. There was a clearing ahead. There was-

Pain erupted at the back of her head. A tingling sensation gave way to burning. Then she stumbled as her vision blurred and her head started pounding. More pain erupted at her back as stone after stone found their mark. She wasn't sure if she screamed. She couldn't hear anything passed the pounding of her heartbeat inside her head.

She wasn't sure if she tripped over something or if it was just her legs giving up, but her body met fast with the hard ground. She groaned. Her legs wouldn't move. Something was wrong.

Pain filled her body, but it came from everywhere. She couldn't focus on just one. Voices came closer. She had to do something. Perhaps her magic could...

No. She hadn't heeded the warnings. It was too late for the magic to save her now. She gulped in air, desperate for it as if drowning. Her body was becoming cold, numbed by pain. Closer.

She placed her hands on the ground and dug her fingers into the earth.

"Please, Mother Earth, I'm not ready to leave your blessed land and return to your bosom. You've so much more to teach. I've so much more to learn. Please..." She felt her power swell inside her, flickering as her heart began to slow. "Please..."

Some of Her children had hard lives. That's why spirits spent time across the veil resting. So that when they returned, they could pick up a new life and gain new experiences. Some were take from Her before their time was truly up. Some had strong spirits. This one...

Yes, this one. A spirit who knew Her well. A spirit who was thankful for Her gifts and gave back even more. A spirit who had spent many lifetimes seeking happiness and fulfillment only to die young and return beyond the veil hungry for something more than tiny fragments of shattered lives.

Why did this particular spirit have such a difficult time finding a life to be born into that would offer even a simple happiness such as love or family? Always seeking. Always yearning for more. Why couldn't She grant that more? Why did this life cycle have to be so short.

"I give this body to Mother Earth." She took ragged breaths. "May the elements bless the body and return it to Her. May the spirit find a new vessel to share life with. As I will..."

The body was lifeless by the time the men reached it. They raised stone-filled hands high, intending to punish an already spiritless body. But She was angry. She had not been able to stop this death. As She had been unable to stop the ones before. Why was She powerless? Why did this spirit cause Her sadness with its death?

Rain fell as Her tears, pausing the final judgment of the men on Her child. One intended to finish what they'd started, but Her anger struck him as lightning and split his body in two. The others, fearing his spirit might attack them or that the witch's spirit was punishing them for killing the body, fled from the clearing. Fled from the angry tears. But She did not allow the bodies to leave the clearing. Lightning claimed them, claimed every one of Her child's attackers.

She cradled the child's still body. She felt the spirit begin to leave the body. She wished she could tie the spirit to a better life. She wanted to choose for this one something more.

Mother Earth manifested in the clearing, something she rarely attempted. Her hands caressed the gentle face of the dead witch. Let the strands of hair slip through Her fingertips. Then she passed Her hands through the body and slicked them with the witch's blood.

"What are you doing?" She knew His voice and why He was there. He was Father Sky. He was Her equal. He was Her opposite. They weren't supposed to be there in the mortal world. They were supposed to guide and watch over, but never meddle. Never take an active part in the mortals' lives.

"Just a bit of magic," she answered. "Giving to one who has given so much and taken so little."

"That's what rebirth is for," He reminded her.

"I know. But something is different. Something..."

She felt His strength at Her back and then His hand on Her shoulder.

"Here." He opened up the palm of his right hand with a blade. Blood flowed freely. "Give to the earth her body. Bind her spirit with your blood. Grant your power over earth and water to the protection of this spirit. I shall do the same with my blood and my power over the sky and fire. Perhaps she isn't meant to be reborn in the traditional way."

Though puzzled, She didn't question Her other half. She did as He did, and together they called upon the elements to watch over this particular spirit until they could find for her a better vessel to call upon life.

Then Mother Earth and Father Sky left the physical realm and forgot about the spirit They'd hoped to save from endless torment. But the spirit hadn't forgotten Their promise or the spell They'd weaved around her. So she waited, wishing with all her might to be born into a longer life, one full of excitement and possibilities.

Magic gathered around her, drawing toward her the dream. And the dream arrived on wings, the wind, and little tiny paws. Seeds landed and were unwittingly planted at the place her body lay. Time gave way to seasons. Seasons gave way to seedlings. Seedlings became saplings

From the earth grew five trees: four at separate points like directions on a map, the fifth grew up through the center. The spirit waited, bound to the place. As the trees grew older, larger, they began to merge until one could not tell from a distance that they were five and not one.

~*~*~

She slept. She rested as best she could. It wasn't the rest she had experienced beyond the veil, nor was it the rest of a body at the end of a day. It was restless. It was nothingness. It gave no hope. It made no promises. It offered no dreams. Just darkness that gave way to light and light that gave way to darkness.

Something pierced her, but she did not scream. Then the piercing became a part of her, and the pain stopped. Something pressed in on her, threatening to squeeze the life-

No. There was no life. She was a spirit. She was bound to this place. She was forgotten.

The pressure closed in until she felt breathless. Then it eased.

Cold filled her, crystallized. She was stone. She was death.

Then warmth. Slowly seeping into the ground. Sunlight dancing across green leaves once more. Budding. Pink. Birds singing.

Heat like fire. Colors duller. Sun burning. Creating shade for creatures in the glade.

Air cooling. Colors changing. Reds and yellows replacing greens. Gentle rain.

Cold again. Was this what happened when a spirit was forgotten? Was this the final death? Bitter cold. So dark. Need. Who am I?

~*~*~

The Druid stepped carefully. His gift had called him to this place. He didn't know why. There was nothing here but a single tree. It was a beautiful tree. Very unique in its shape. Almost as though multiple seeds had merged into one tree.

As he got closer he felt the magic within that tree. He reached out and immediately snatched his hand back. Had he heard singing while his hand had been pressed against the bark? A beautiful melodic voice in what sounded like a mournful lament?

He shook his head. Then he placed his hand upon the tree again. Something lived within this tree, or something lingered. It couldn't be a tree spirit. Those were usually of old trees. Born out of the power in the land that had clung too long to the roots and been drawn up inside.

"Hello?" He called, wanting to announce himself. The singing stopped. A stirring. Like someone waking from sleep.

"Hello?" A feminine voice replied, weary and uncertain.

"I mean you no harm, tree spirit," he said. The branches stilled, interest perking up the leaves. He heard a yawn and the bark creaking as a branch shifted slowly. He felt within his mind, where he had heard the music before, someone stand as if beckoned, then reach up for his hand.

The sensation was odd since he stood there and no one was around. A branch touched his hand at the same time the sensation of the hand reaching out for him also touched his hand.

~*~*~

Her fingers linked with the hand and held on. She knew not why she felt this desire to cling to the hand reaching for her. Nor how she knew it was a hand.

Up. Up. Up the hand drew her. Out of the dark loneliness of the unknown. Into the soft light of...what was it called?

She felt the warmth upon her face at the same time light nearly blinded her. She squeezed her eyes shut. Sun. Yes. That's what it was called.

She felt heaviness around her. Then her head was free. She took a breath. Air touched her face. She reached up, tugging against the heaviness. Her fingertips were free, then a hand, then her arm.

She heard sound. Her eyes opened. Someone stood before her. Male. Yes. It was a he. Color. Green. Brown. Scent of...leather?

His eyes were wide. He just stood watching. Sensation and faint memories began flooding her mind. Sun. Sky. Skin. Seasons. Tree.

...

Tree. She was a tree. And not a tree.

Dryad. The word he was thinking.

"What is Dryad?" Her voice sounded wispy.

He did not seem alarmed that she had heard his thoughts, as though he'd expected them.

"Tree spirit," he said. "Protector of the woods."

She shook her head and heard the leaves of her tree shake. He looked at her worriedly, since she seemed confused. He offered his hand.

She took it and let him help her step from the tree. Once her last foot pulled free, all of the heaviness was gone. She felt freedom. She remembered what it felt like in the flesh. Though this felt somewhat muted, it was similar enough to return memories to the new flesh.

Yes. It was starting to come back. Birth. Life. Death. Silence.

She remembered.

She keened and dropped to her hands and knees. The earth felt cool and comforting beneath her hands.

Oh, Mother, why did you forsake me? But she would not receive an answer. The Mother and Father had forgotten her. Bound her to a place and forgotten her.

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder. Why would this stranger care when the ones she held dearest in life did not?

"They say some spirits choose not to cross the veil and rest instead taking up residence within a tree. Over time they become one being, and that is how a Dryad is born."

But her spirit hadn't chosen to stay. Hers had been bound. She wondered what her tree looked like, so she stood and turned.

How long had she been bound to this place? She couldn't remember a tree in this clearing, let alone one so big. But here it stood.

The bark swirled with white and brown. The foliage couldn't make up it's mind on color. Wind rustled through its leaves. A bird perched in a branch.

This was her home; a part of and apart from herself.

She reached out and pressed her hand against the bark. It felt solid. How did she return to it?

"Imagine the bark is soft, not hard. Imagine your hand can press through it."

Instinctively, she obeyed. And the action was actually quite simple. Like moving through a thick liquid. Like honey. She wondered if honey still tasted delightful on the tip of her tongue now that she wasn't human.

She passed into the tree until she had returned. It was a unique feeling to stand as a physical manifestation outside the tree then merge with the tree and feel like as one with it. And if she thought about it, she could feel beyond her tree. Feel every footstep of every creature. Hear the flap of wings and scurrying from tree branch to tree branch.

She could still feel and see the man standing before her, watching her. Looking upon her expectantly.

"Why have you come here?" Somehow she spoke as wind and melodic sighs.

He paused, gathering his thoughts before he spoke.

"I am Fergo. I am a Druid. I can command nature to do my bidding. We work in tandem together." He looked around then back at her tree. "I am old. I've been seeking a place to settle down in peace so that my gifts may be of use while my body readies for death. My journey led me here, led me to you. I think we were meant to find one another. My gifts with nature might assist you in your awakening as a Dryad. And in turn..."

She wondered what he could ask of a tree. Of a spirit of a tree.

"Your company will ease the ache in this lonely old man's heart."

~*~*~