The floral mage that lived in the woods was quite forgetful. The flowers knew to direct the mage back home when the sun went down, after they had taken a nap the meadow. The trees rustled their branches when the mage left their sketchbook on a rock, and the wind whispered daily reminders to them.
The floral mage took care of the woods, and the woods took care of them back.
One day, the young mage had to go into the market. As usual, they made their checklist, packed their day bag, and headed out.
Only to turn around after the wind whispered to them that they had forgotten their boots, being so used to walking barefoot that they didn't even notice.
Back on the trail, the young floral mage picked up tiny rocks along the way, the small pebbles sharing with whatever gossip they had gathered that week. Their chatter sounding like stones grinding against each other.
Along the well-worn trail, the young mage came across an unusual sight and a more unusual noise.
In the middle of the trail where trees don't usually grow, stood a tree nearly blocking both sides of the trail. Instead of the dark burgundy bark and brown leaves as was the norm in this region, this tree had black bark, and deep red leaves.
As the mage grew closer, they could hear something like a whisper coming from of the mysterious tree. But unlike the friendly and familiar whispers of the woods, these whispers were more like quite rumbles.
As the mage stepped over thick, protruding roots, leaning their hands against the bark as they made their way around the tree, it's thick leaves canopying the sun; they realized that they could not hear the usual whispering of the wind, or even the chattering of the pebbles and stones in their pocket. All were silent.
Expect the mysterious tree.
Mage child, mage child. The voice within the bark spoke to them.
The mage jolted, nearly tripping over a thick root.
This was no whisper.
"Do…do you know me?" They asked.
They had never heard a voice of nature so clear before. Everyone else was a sound, a whisper, a chatter.
The leaves swayed and the branches creaked before the tree spoke again.
Know you? Do you even know yourself?
"What are you talking about? I know who I am! Why is a tree in the middle of the road? You weren't here before."
The day before, I was a seed dropped out of someone's pocket. Stomped into the soil and blessed with the first morning's rain, I grew.
The mage walked around the tree again. "If you're just some tree, why do you ask me these questions? I'm just a floral mage."
The tree's thick bark twisted, as if to lean towards the young mage.
Just, just, just. No being is 'just' anything.
Then, the tree asked again.
Do you even know yourself?
"Stop asking me that! What do you mean? I am who I said I am; a floral mage." The mage said and continued.
"I live here, just down some ways. I listen to the land as it speaks to me, and take care of it as it takes care of me."
The young mage smoothed down their garment, collecting themselves. "Now, let me go on my way without interruption. Please."
The mysterious tree paused in its twisting and swaying, as it's voice rumbled once more.
Mage child, mage child, hidden away down the way. Do you know your own name?
The mage stopped in their tracks.
"…who…who sent you?"
The woods you so loved as you are loved in return, sent me to you.
Author: A. Ave
Written Date: 12/28/2023
Published Date: 12/29/2023
Date Last Updated: 12/29/2023