Smoke trailed up the horizon, leaving the cobblestone chimneys of the small hamlet. Men worked in the fields surrounding the peaceful homes, planting grain to be harvested in the coming months. Small children ran around the small paths, always under the watchful eyes of busy mothers. Several women in well-worn clothing were gathered around the villages lone well, pumping water and talking gaily.
A breeze played over the grass, lifting the heads of the working men who enjoyed for a brief moment the cool air. Several of them paused, spotting a tall figure far off in the distance moving slowly and with great care. Pausing in their work, several of the workers gathered at the edge of the fields. Unable to make out any details on the figure in the afternoon light, the men began to walk towards it.
As they walked and the figure began to grow larger and larger in their sight the men began to become worried. The breeze had stopped, leaving their footsteps to sound loudly across the empty landscape. Several kilometers from the houses, the men crested a small hill and came to a stop now able to clearly see the figure.
"By the gods..."
The men froze, astonished and fearful of the creature that lay ahead. A giant of bark and branches, vines twisting around its form, down and up arms and legs, flowers and greenery sprouting from the back of the creature. Long legs taking impossibly long steps, gradually bringing the creature to some unknown destination. The creature turned its head towards the men, scarcely pausing its gait.
The men quickly scrambled back down the slope and crouched to avoid its notice.
Gasping for air, an old man spat out
"It's an Ent!"
to the confused looks of the other farmers.
"A what?"
"An ancient myth I heard told once in the capital, by some drunk old bard, born from giant trees, supposedly peaceful creatures that wandered the wilds and gave life to nature."
The men glanced at each other after this declaration. One of the men spoke up after several seconds of silence.
"So, now what?"
The old man who had spoken of the Ent was silent before peering above the grass they had hidden in, catching sight of the Ent approaching their position. Sitting back down among the other worried farmers he let out a sigh.
"Well, it seems to be comin' this way, so, how about, we run!"
Taking a deep breath after saying this, the old man sprang up and began sprinting back towards the fields. The other men looked after him bewildered, then glancing around at each other, they began to follow at high speed.
The scene was quite humorous, a dozen men in coarse beige clothing letting out whoops and hollers while running with arms and legs akimbo from a large slowly moving tree-person. The hilarity ceased once the first wooden spear burst from the dry ground into the slowest moving man's gut, draining him of blood and life in two seconds flat.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
The other men paused at the last wrenching scream of the now dead man, before putting their heads down and running like their daddy was after them with his belt.
The Ent continued advancing slowly, now just past the edge of the plowed fields. Fleeing men continued to be impaled, their corpses creating a macabre trail of the path taken by the Ent.
The hamlet was disturbed by the fading screams of the men. Women and children gathering around the house of the chief hoping for direction. A wizened old man had stepped out from within once the first scream had rung out, to seek the source and cause. From the stooping doorstep, the chief was able to watch as the last of the men running was flung into the air on the end of a spike jutting through his chest, the man's head splayed back to stare at the hazy sun.
Gasping, the startled old man stumbled back, then began yelling for the inhabitants under his charge to flee into the forest. The chief became incoherent over the sound of terrified mothers herding children, some of whom began to cry at the palpable fear on their protector's faces.
Minutes passed, each one punctuated by screams, each one cut off suddenly. Eventually, the surrounding forest became empty of terror, all the villagers dead, dying, or among the small few that had escaped.
----------
The houses were empty, utensils scattered about on floors joined by broken ornaments. The paths were empty, of the pitter patter of playing children, the purposeful strides of parents, the pondering steps of elders. Quiet, motionless.
Slow and heavy steps set quietly between the cobbles. Wooden tendons, and coils of oaken flesh flexing to support the evolving Ent. Gone were the stubby spikes and misaligned joints, replaced by sleek, smooth bark like skin covering defined shoulder, hips, and the body of what could be mistaken for a human. its head was no longer a blank slate, now seemingly covered by a mask formed with grotesque features, themselves slowly shifting into something more recognizable.
Now walking down the slim paths, the Ent began to glance around showing something akin to curiosity. And even though its hearing and sight were not based within its head, at a sudden noise within one of the buildings, its face swiveled around to point towards it. So it began to creep with muffled footsteps around to the front of the old wooden house, somewhat odd given its stature.
Upon approaching the front of the house where the sound had originated from, the Ent walked through the doorway, smashing through the lintel above the door with the top of its head. The sudden crack of splintered wood drew a soft cry from a back room. As the Ent slowly walked forwards with deadly purpose, the cry was joined by another and both grew in intensity.
Dust trails lit by the sun's fading light were broken as the Ent passed through. Stepping on creaky floorboards underneath rough-hewn beams, the Ent gazed around the orderly room, a spark of something in its sightless eyes.
Meanwhile, outside the small shack, in the surrounding forests and fields, an event long forgotten occurred. Every dead body, torn and mangled by the Ent, was beginning to glow with an ethereal light under the setting sun. For while the Ent had ended their lives, a small part of its essence had entered them. Dragon and Mage blood intermixed with that of the mortals, and chipped souls grew full and buoyant; the glint and glow of the villager's simple white souls following the sun undetectable to one's sight.
Then the drifting cry of an infant rose up from the now distant village to reach the spirits. Most continued unabated, but one slowed and turned back, only to see the Ent standing over two wailing babies ensconced in soft blankets, lying in a simple wooden crib. Mortal emotion flooded the soul, and the spirit began to scream towards the Ent. Crashing into the Ents chest with near physical force forcing its movements to stop. The Ents purple-blue heart began to slowly spin in its chest. The spirit continued to fruitlessly beat back the Ent. The orb-like heart spun faster and faster, soon creating a high pitched hum and kicking up swirls of air. The spirit showed a hint of fear as white threads began to peel off her transparent body, shooting one last tender look at the two babies, the spirit turned and dove into the humming heart. An audible crack echoed out, the heart stopped spinning.
The Ent paused, glimmers of white crossing over and through his heart pursued by streaks of purple and blue. Several minutes passed, the baby's cries grew fainter, and the sun finally set, leaving the world with only a faint half-moon to light it.
The heart finally calmed, the only evidence of any struggle was a faint grey line stretching across part of the orb. Waking from its stupor the Ent strode towards the children, raising a wooden spike above their small heads. As the spike swung down with deadly intent, the grey line flashed and shrunk a small amount. The spike stopped mid-air, hanging like a guillotine blade at an execution. Suddenly with smooth movements the Ent turned and left the children, exiting the house, and then the village. Continuing its journey, now wearing a shroud of pale moonlight.