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Frest… That is the name I shared with their city. It is an honor to be chosen by the humans to be their den since I particularly enjoy observing them.

Below my foundation lies the graveyard, or I would prefer to call it, The Dustery. The ashes of my denizens were returned there. After all, it is the tax that they had to pay to live on my body.

Humans tend to die quickly but it was very fascinating to watch how much things they could accomplish with such ephemeral life. However most of them spent their life leisurely, enjoying my shade while they can.

Starting from my roots are the slums. It is not exactly poor enough to be called ‘slums’, since the houses there are quite durable. But the living conditions we quite poor. From the self-appointed guards there, perhaps Military District would suit it more than the slums. However, they were far from the actual guards.

There were many ways to maneuver through my body. Although the stairs and ladders were the most used, some loved to swing on my branches, while the daring ones climbed using the footholds I secretly made for them. There was also a teleporter for the Druids. They made it for themselves, not me.

The Commons lie upon my trunk. Here, humans did most of their trading. It was also the highest point most visitors could go up to. It had shops, inns, an orphanage and a few shrines dedicated to me.

The competition around the restaurants inspired cooks to increase their repertoire, allowing them to create magnificent dishes. but it sure is a shame that I could not taste them. On the other hand, by sensing the happiness of the diner, I could almost imagine how they would have tasted.

The orphanage is one of my favorites. A very wonderful establishment filled with kindness to the brim. It also doubled as a school for willing children. That way, it could fund itself from the donations of parents.

There were no markets in the city since there was not much horizontal space for humans to build one. In its place, there were countless specialty shops around every corner.

The first shrine was engraved by Yling, the Primeval Druid, the first to hear my voice. It was the time when I became the tallest tree in the swamp, around the time the third generation was born. Yling kept me company and never left until she passed away. But before her passing, she carved a hole to my core with the last of her strength.

Yling was a very considerate person. Even now, I could remember her precise axe strikes, carefully cut in a way that it did not harm me. She was also the one who delivered my specially made sap for those who needed it.

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From that day, parents brought their 7 year old children in accordance to her final wishes. It was to see if they had the capacity to become my voice, a Druid…

If they were able receive my voice within the first shrine, they were given a choice to become one. What comes after that is the training, which required them to be isolated for a year within the shrine. Only me and the other candidates were the ones they were allowed to speak to.

Within a year, I impart to them all my ideals, in order to shape them into somebody like Yling.

Then, after the training they could hear my voice as long as they were near me. However, there was once a certain person that could talk to me while on the other side of the continent.

Then, on my branches most of the homes of my residents were built. Children freely played about on attached platforms every day, without a care in the world. It sort of reminded me about how it was when I was a sapling. Of course, I could not move around, but I was so carefree back then.

Whenever humans attached new floors on the stronger branches, I always dedicated a bit of effort to grow vines for their railings. Accidents can happen after all.

There has never been any accidental drops so far. However, there were some intentional falls by some people. Suicide or murder usually being the cause but most of them were prevented by using my Druids.

Frest was never involved in any war because I forbade them from doing so. But the Continental War from about four and a half centuries ago left me no choice.

In that war, the nutrients I received regularly was tripled due to the bodies being returned to me. The Dustery also took in nameless ashes that belonged to the enemy… They might have had families.

Ironically, I felt remorse every time I partook in their ashes. Perhaps it is because I have known them throughout their entire life or maybe because I was a human in my past life. It piques my interest how humans could slaughter their livestock heartlessly, for I cannot bear to see their life snuffed out.

With their dust, I strive for the heavens… I have pierced the clouds but that is not yet enough. You could say that my goal is to to reach beyond the sky, but with my fragile mind, I wonder if I can ever reach it.

Within my core were stored the memories of various people, hunters, traders, cooks, a hero. I could have never gotten through the clouds without them, but for the few last decades, my growth has slowed down.

I think I may have gotten senile in this millennium. But it must be nice to see what is beyond this veil that we call the sky. Perhaps, I could catch some shooting stars? Who knows what would happen when I finally reach it.