She tried her best to remember how she had seemingly teleported halfway up the tree.
She tried her best to not think about the height.
She tried her best not to look downward.
“What are you waiting for?” A certain dark-coloured menace said, lazing idly upon the upper branches. High winds rushed past her in all its fury, the air thin and irritatingly aromatic, threatening to send her toppling down.
It did not help that the branches, leaves and all that surround her was glowing a dazzling gold. Climbing was an activity best left to be done with open eyes, yet now she was attempting to do so half blind.
She grunted as her right leg slipped a little, her hands gripping onto the gnarly wood in panic. It took a while for her to find her balance again, holding on.
She complained loudly, her voice barely traveling above the wind, “How is one supposed to find a stick like this?”
“Then perhaps you are not ready to go on your journey!” Panther jeered down on her, bouncing up and down on the branches with despicable ease.
The Tree never shed leaves, never does it lose branches to wind or birds. Therefore, to get a branch small enough to actually use, one must travel up its titanic trunk, pass the branches sizes of mountain ranges and reach the very far end of the trees. On the truck itself, apples and minor leaves grew like hair, covering the gnarly golden wood in a layer off foot holds. With every movement, apples were shook off, plump and life giving — falling into the far distance below.
Where they would then splatter into ichor of gold like raindrops from the Sun, as Wolf once said to her. She wouldn’t know, since she had never seen the Sun herself before. She imagined it to be bright and big, hanging far far away — at least as far as the crown of the tree. She was told of the “night”, when the Sun would set, moving beyond the ‘horizon’ and sinking below the ground, where then the light would fade and shadows take the world.
She couldn’t even begin to comprehend what those words mean. What is ‘horizon’? What are ‘Moon’ and ‘stars’?
At this point, she realized her mind had been drifting off again. Dangerous, she reminded herself, losing focus means a long fall.
She had been climbing for a long while. Much longer than she had remembered herself doing anything thing else. The branches were the ones that gives off the warmth and light that provides life to the whole of the Sanctuary. Being in close proximity would char flesh like an open flame, while touching it would probably melt it straight off or disperse bones into ash. Most birds never fly this high. Only Hawk and Phoenix ever did fly to its peak.
She was told that she was born — appeared at the base of the tree, resting in a cradle made of heartwood and baptised in living flames.
So what? Am I the ‘daughter’ of a giant plant?
She decided she shall not pursue this train of thought for sanity’s sake.
Perhaps it offered an explanation to her being able touch the tree at all with little to no harm aside from sweating.
And sweat she did — protection from burning or blistering does nothing against overheating. Her mouth felt dry and her mind even dryer.
That does not explain how Panther seemed to be having the time of its life resting in the leaves, its coat of darkness not reflecting even the barest scrap of light. Its tail twitched idly as it watched her struggle.
Her heart hammered in her chest, muscles screaming in protest — a sensation that she had not felt for — once again, the lack of relative time left her train of thought stranded midway.
A part of her mind wondered why had the Guardian Beasts never taught her any words to express satisfaction or irritation, for she held the urge to say it now.
Focus, she told herself, her brows furrowing, there is not much left, I can do this —
Indeed, the distance to the smaller, adequate sized branches were not too far off. Just a while ago, the truck that she was climbing had narrowed significantly, splitting off into different arms. The leaves that were so high up, unreachable at the apex now seemed to tentatively close. The massive golden leaves that was once blended together like clouds of sunlights could now be differentiated, their massive, ethereal forms overlapping together like eggshells.
She had never climbed so far up before. She had always settled for the apples at the bottom, and now she had climbed for…
The lack of a time reference term stunted her train of thought again.
If it wasn’t for Panther, she would never willing go this high up into the sky.
Unbiddingly, she glanced down —
Ughh~~
That was a terrible idea, she decided, trying to hold her vomit in.
The ground beneath was almost invisible, under a thin layer of clouds, all detail blurred out in the great golden radiance of the Tree. Fields of pale green, gold and blue, extending far and wide until the end of the world, the grey walls rising up into the great inner sky. Tiny forms fluttered beneath her — Thunderbirds, she duly noted. Huge winged beasts of storms that could carry off fully grown elephants at a whim, now seemed like blots of electric blue dust in clear water.
Vertigo filled her brain, her mind spinning like a top and colours blurred into a mess.
She resolutely decided that she was never going to do that again, hugging the log with all her might. Panther chuckled at her predicament, a long purr vibrating in the rushing air, “Keep climbing, child. The end is not too far off.”
Gritting her teeth, she set out again, one grip at a time.
As she progressed, she noticed that the smaller apple-width branches are slowly thickening into subs — no where near long enough to be an actual staff, but it was a clear sign that she was moving.
Slowly, but resolutely, she climbed.
The sound of skin over wood droned into her mind. The scraping sound of fingers gripping onto the bark, movement of her limbs regressing into an automatic movement, over and over again.
Is was as if she was in a trace, a state of unawareness…
Climbing, one hand hold, one foothold…
Climb…
Panther smiled.
~(*)~
Thunder crashed, the world lighting up as if it caught on fire all at once.
Despite the great golden canopy above, clouds formed on their own, evaporating from the great Tree into humongous monstrosities. Lightning flashed, wind howling, the rain blowing into her face like river — flowing sideways and full of fury.
While she was climbing, she hadn’t noticed the wisps of white rising, congregating into masses of grey and black. Before she realized so, she found herself in the middle of a storm, roaring like an unending chorus.
Now that she thought about it, seeing Thunderbirds were a definite sign of an oncoming storm. She berated herself for being so foolish, not realizing what the flight meant with tinges of regret.
She bit down on her tongue, holding herself close to the tree. An errant gust earlier had threatened to carry her off, and it would have succeeded if her grip had been any less. The thunder blinded her eyes, the rain and hail stinging her face like wasps, she could only try her best to hold on.
Even the tree stopped its ever present glow, absorbing instead of releasing. The mighty strunk swayed in the wind, even with its legendary toughness and strength. She wobbled as she clamped tight with her limbs like a leech, blown about from every direction.
It was at this point that she wished she got a rope — something that she had seen coiled idly, unused in a cave filled with assorted curiosities that she never saw the point of using. Yes, a rope would do fine. I could have used it to secure myself, or make grapples... Anything would help.
She regretted her unpreparedness, yelling make-shift curses at Panther in her heart.
The Guardian Beasts had taught her much — how to find food in the sandy wastelands, how to create shelter from snow, how to hunt — but never had they thought of including ‘how to survive a storm on a tree’ in their curriculum.
The rain was cold — far colder than the snowy home of the Hare. The water seeped into her, leeching the heat from her skin. It was a biting, a snarling beast without mercy, ripping her apart at the seams. It felt like cold needles, digging itself into her with every impact.
She couldn’t open her eyes, not too sure if her tears had mixed into the rain.
She couldn’t breath, choking on the water every time her chest moved.
Panther was nowhere to be found, gone the moment the first droplet fell.
Or rose.
Forget climbing, just clinging on was draining all of her energy.
It was cold.
I don’t want die! I don’t want to die...
White —
The little sticks in her left hand snapped from the tree, sending her careening and slamming against the trunk at an awkward angle, almost rolling off the branch for a few scant seconds before she sunk her fingers into another bushel.
Her heart hammered inside her chest, every muscle tense and at its limits, shaking in exhaustion, ears ringing loudly with a dissonant hum, overshadowing even the rain. She felt the shockwave rushing over her skin, the wood beneath shivering and snapping.
She felt something dripping in her head, hot and cold. Her fingers burned — she’s sure they were bleeding. It took all of her willpower to not accidentally let go of the sticks in her hand. The wood beneath dug painfully into her skin as she scraped across the surface, lancing through her flesh.
That was way too close.
Everything hurts, the world spinning around her.
It was so, so cold.
She wondered if she’s going to die. Here and now, up in the trees, becoming food for the birds like so many others.
I don’t want to die —!
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Unbeknownst to her, she started glowing. It was at this moment, she felt something within her go click! Something happened at that moment. For a few seconds, she found herself in a daze of green and gold.
At that moment, she knew that all is right. She couldn’t tell how or why, but she just knew, that she will survive. A mysterious warmth flooded her limbs, electrifying. The air near her shimmered, covering her, protecting her. A glowing image formed, likened that of a leaf, branching out over her, growing at an impossible rate.
The rain that once hammered suddenly curved around her as if an invisible shell had been placed around her, forming torrents of water that washed over the barrier like watching a waterfall from behind crystals.
Despite seeing this impossible spectacle, she found herself to be oddly at peace. It was quiet inside the shell, the impossible loudness of the storm somehow isolated.
This is how it was meant to be, she thought to herself amidst her delirium, staring at the mirage of a leaf, protecting, protected. Safe...
And when she blinked, her mind spiraled off again.
~(*)~
When she came to, she found herself surfing on a great layer of white, her stomach lying on gnarly wood and splinted sticks clenched in her fingers. It was golden and silver above her and around her, extending upward as far as she could see.
She felt the heat of the now glowing branches drying the water from her clammy skin, soothing the torn and bleeding muscles in her limbs. The wind was still, quiet.
She didn’t move for a while. Not until sensation eventually returning back to her extremities. She wiggled the rigid digits one by one, splinters flaking off, stained with blood and sap. She decided not to look at them for a while, sure in the fact that they would be flayed and bloodied.
Out of nowhere, she abruptly reached an epiphany — So that was what clothes are used for! She yelled in her mind. Indeed, she realized that with clothes she could potentially gain a tougher and disposable outer skin that can protect her against scrapes and damage.
She had never actually worn clothes before, having been able to weather most conditions without much issue. She had found these humongous rags with clearly-intended holes in them and asking the Guardian Beasts had revealed that the Ancient ones used to cover themselves in them. Then, in a chain event of revelations, she figured out the point of shoes, ropes, armour —
After an eternity of existence, she had finally found out the point of tools. So that’s why the Guardians Beasts were insistent that I should use tools!
She registered that she was drifting off again in her shocked reverie, making a point to return to reality by shaking her head profusely, focusing her muddled psych.
She felt like a squashed fly, unknowingly splattered onto the ground by some great beast, stained red and blue with bruises. Her throat ached, parched and cracked. I must had been screaming last night, she noted, not really remembering if she did or not. Not that she particularly cared at the moment.
She did not do anything other than breathing, relishing the feeling of being alive.
She laughed to herself, feeling preposterous in having survived that.
Alive, indeed.
Still alive.
She saw a great form hovering over her, a large shadow that felt cool to be under.
“You did well,” it purred, “Not many can faced the storm which spawns forth from the Tree and withstood it,”
It was Panther, standing there. Its fur was wet, clinging to its impossibly lithe body, each muscle shining through the silver moister as they rippled.
“Now you’ve rested, the final part of your journey awaits.”
Rested? I felt as if I had narrowly avoided death. She thought to herself, I’m going crazy.
But she knew it was true. She’s above the clouds now, much much higher. Somehow, in her slumber, she had managed to hold on, moving up despite it all. She couldn’t remember anything much, just the occasional flash of white and the burning cold of the rain.
Dully and slowly, she lifted her head up. She couldn’t for the sake of her life remember how she got here.
Yes, the branches are much narrower now. She could now see the curvature of the branch much clearer now, winding off into oblivion on at her sides.
She could see it above and around her, the once far apart trunks now had spreaded out into a complex net of wiry branches, intertwining together into a mesh of glowing wood.
It was quiet. The wind had ceased.
“.. did you know, that your ancestors made the pilgrimage to the crown of the tree before their expedition?” Panther said, stalking silently ahead, “The Tree need them to prove that they are resolute. A trial to prove their worth to take a piece of the Sanctuary beyond. A test to see if they retained the strength to explore the great world.”
She methodically hoised herself up, arms straining in fatigue. The branch was now thin enough to be able to straddle, which seemed both dangerous and thankful since she could both fall off and grapple more firmly. Balefully, she glared at Panther, her voice rasp, “A warning would have been helpful before you dragged me into this test —”
“Would it have been sincere then? Would you know of every possibility of danger? If you had the opportunity to prepare, would it proof your ability to survive?” Panther said, tilting its head to the side, “The Tree pushes you to the limit, child, for your benefit. If you couldn’t make it to the crown, you are not ready to leave.”
It paused for a few moments, resuming after seconds of thinking, “I suppose a congratulations is in order. You survived, the tree deeming you ready to face the world.”
She experienced an compliation of extremely complicated feelings. Anger, indignity, joy, understand — all rolled into a mash. She had many questions to ask — what just happened? How did she arrive here? Why would she need to go through all these trouble just for a stick?
Most of all, she remembered that odd shimmering leaf-shaped barrier in the storm, of how it seemed to blossomed from nothingness and protected her before her mind gave out. What had that been?
The Guardian Beasts each could do impossible things — Wolf running down a Thunderbird, Turtle bathing in molten rock, the Owl silently disappearing from thin air and reappearing somewhere else — but she had long accepted that as part of what they are, just like how fish can swim and worms can crawl.
What she did back then in the storm was something beyond any of that.
As if reading her mind, Panther said, “Ahh, you must be wondering what happened in the storm.”
How—?
“Was that the first time you harnessed the power of the Tree?” it asked curiously.
“Power... of the tree?” she replied uncertainly.
“Hmm… So it seemed that you’ve never made use of the power of the Tree before. have we not told you about the origins of the Sanctuary, and that of the world?” Panther quizzed, padding back on silent footsteps.
“When the world was in turmoil, the Ancient Ones led all the enlightened and beasts into the Sanctuary, planting the seed that would become the tree,” she recited, her voice still too dry to be comfortable speaking.
“Indeed. The world outside then was chaotic, malformed and unfinished. Entire land would disappear overnight, oceans turning into fire and life perishing without even the time to save themselves. The energy — primal, older than the Ancient Ones themselves, were incredibly dangerous, but power nonetheless.”
She tilted her head to the side, not understanding how this information is relevant.
Panther continued, “In planting the seed that would become the tree, the Ancient Ones drew primordial power into its roots, transforming and molding it… until it could be harnessed with their very thoughts!”
“Heh?”
“Yes, I understand your shock. The earth-shattering powers, the sky-rending strength of the great primordial made subservient... Truly, the Ancient Ones proved their awe and might many times over,” it said gleefully, tail slapping the wood underneath with heavy whumps, “As their companions, they allowed us to share from the same font, giving us a smidgen of the great Tree’s power. Thus, we gained the ability to perform all sorts of miraculous feats…”
“— is that how you can disappear in the dark, to take in light and jump between shadows?” she asked excitedly in awe with eyes wide. She glanced at the giant branch which she was straddling, imagining the golden sap that courses through carrying the primordial energy of the world. Suddenly, it felt like she was desecrating something by climbing the tree and eating its fruits.
The Tree seemed to hum under her touch now, seemingly almost… content.
Panther remained ignorant of her predicament, having considered her question serious. Eventually, it answered, “Yes… And no.”
“Hmm?”
“You see, young one, I have always had the ability to meld into darkness. It was something I have gained on my own in the time before the great Exodus to the Sanctuary, just like how Wolf can run swifter than the wind itself or how Turtle thrive with in molten earth. The tree merely… enhance our abilities.”
“Then… how were the powers granted?” she asked, thinking that this would be a good question, since she hadn’t felt a ‘rush of power’ as she had expected from receiving some kind of miraculous power from the Tree.
“Granted? No… The Tree does not grant powers. It only amplifies what you have, unlocking your ability to make use of the primordial —” Panther abruptly stopped speaking for a moment, it’s great luminous eyes squinting, “You… Ah. You do not sense the power around you, do you?”
What?
“... I see. As you’ve only ever lived here, breathed the air of the Sanctuary, ate the fruits of the Tree and drank its sap, it would only be natural that you do not see the world as we do. A fish do not see itself in water, a bird knows not that it flies in the air, just as you do not recognise the myriad of powers that surround you.” Panther said, nodding to itself.
Still just as confused, she made an effort to draw its attention again, “Is there something I am not seeing?”
“No, I meant that all that you’ve ever seen is it. Without seeing a world not so... refined in nature, I am afraid that you will not learn to see what is — what is not there, to be more accurate.” Panther shook its great head in dismay, “Perhaps it would be necessary for you to go explore the outer worlds. Then, you might understand…”
She wanted to say more, but Panther spoke on deliberately, “We spent enough time speaking here, you’ve rested and regained your vitality. The final step is within reach.”
She closed her mouth instead, remembering to ask her questions later. She must first search for the branch she seeks first.
She flexed her arms. They ached mightily, but it was not as bad she first thought. She knew that she had torn at least half a dozen muscle and broken no less bones broken than that, but now they had faced to a numb pin-prick. Slowly, she glanced down at her fingers —
Impossibly, they were not swollen pieces of flesh as she expected them to be. The skin the should have been missing, the bones that should have snapped seemed to have reverted to how it should be. Sure, it was caked with dried blood and wooden flints, but there was not a single wound in sight.
Tenderly and shakingly, she ran her fingers against each other, unsure if what she saw was real or that she had finally gone mad. Despite her misgivings, it seemed that her fingers were whole again.
Wounds and injuries that would take years to recover from was gone within the time that they had spoken.
Impossible.
Shivering, she glanced sharply at Panther, who only replied with a tilt of its giant head, tail waving idly. Did I… Did I somehow healed myself? She touched her ears — she realized that somehow she could hear again. In the storm, she was sure that she had gone deft before she passed out but now she could hear!
“Ha… Ha ha ha —” she giggled to herself in disbelief.
“If you were wondering, you resembled a carcass when I first found you,” Panther said helpfully, “Some of your insides were outside, but I am glad you got better somehow,”
Wait what?
She gestured to herself, running her fingers over her stomach frantically — no, her insides are not outside.
Woah.
Then, she understood why her mind had rooms of question instead of the blinding pain she should be in. She had healed in her sleep, as quickly as a Hydra could.
Gingerly, she picked up a piece of splinter from her palm, staring at it. It was long and thin, like a spine from a hedgehog. Hesitating for a moment, she stabbed into her left forearm. She hissed as it stung, but it seemed far less than it should have been. The snapped in her fingers, leaving the splinter of a splinter stuck in her flesh.
She dug it out, glancing at the blood covered stick — and stared at it. Blood.
Green blood.
She was sure that blood should not be green. The dried blood on her palms were red and brown, yet the shiny green residue on the wood piece seemed to refute it. It was sticky, like sap from a healthy tree.
She looked at her self-inflicted wound again, only catching a sight of it faintly glowing before flowing together like water. In but a moment, the flesh was whole, not a blemish on her skin,
She couldn’t help but to giggle again at the absurdity of the situation.
I have green blood, my wounds glow and they healed in seconds. I am sitting at the top of the highest tree to grab a stick.
So that’s what Panther meant when it said that I’ve rested, she observed as she watched her fingers move, the dried blood flaking off. She glanced at the waiting Panther again, who stared back patiently.
She proceeded to reflect on the fact that she was not slightest bit hungry — despite having climbed a veritable mountain for an undeterminable amount of time. Her stomach did not rumble, nor does she felt the call of appetite.
She shrugged to herself, Well, I suppose it is time to get moving again.
And behind her, on the sap-covered fragment of bark, a small flower bloomed, gently fluttering.