Into the Forest of Crowns

A land somewhere distant in the northwest of the world, mountain ranges would sprawl far across the continent, their summits rising above the clouds, and the earth would cover the entire region with the thick leaves and branches of giant upside-down trees.

Many of the trees' trunks reached half the height of the mountains, and their roots stretched far and wide, touching the skies. Some trees developed in an uneven pattern, with more leaves and branches as their trunk went higher than the others.

Inside, because of how compacted the leaves and branches were and the weak dappled illumination in the dark, the forest appeared to be inhabited.

But a secret remained at its center.

A weird, mossy wall from the past stood tall before anything until a little child with a basket in his arm passed through it as if by magic or illusion.

He strolled towards an area where all eyes could barely see.

The footfall, however, was familiar to those who had walked through before.

Ahead of his destination, there was a late afternoon light shining at the entrance of an area.

"Hmmmm," he mused, "I wonder if they're already ready?"

He emerged from the shadows and into the light, arriving on a sandy, little farm.

The youngster, dressed as a farmer, examined his surroundings: a fish pond, a vegetable garden, a barn with cows and lambs, and a large chicken coop.

He came to a halt and glanced at the chicken coop.

"I checked the schedule," he remembered, "and I think there are enough deviled eggs for tonight," he murmured to himself as he began to walk towards the coop.

He pulled a glove from the basket and wore it on his left hand in front of the doorway.

"All okay," he said calmly.

As he cautiously opened the door, an overwhelming heat escaped from the inside. He carried a block of rock beside the wall and placed it near the entrance to keep it from closing and to keep the inside cool. He then stood in front of the doorway, sweating slightly on his brow.

"Ah," he wiped the sweat from his brow and said, "Okay," continuing to complete his task and entering the coop.

And as he glanced around, there were no chickens to be found. The nesting box contained only hay. He then shook a large cup of rocks of colorful ice in the basket.

The head of a chicken popped out of the hay due to the shushing sounds of the ice. Then a few more emerged, one by one, and several of them inspected the area with their wolven two front eyes.

The coop became raucous as some of the hens growled at each other with their sharp hooked teeth beaks.

"Ey, hey, hey," he said as he peered around the ruckus, "it's an unusual time to feed, but all of you are eating more than enough today, okay?"

When the farmer spoke to the hens, they seemed to growl less loudly.

The chickens rushed and flapped their wings to the ground like four-legged beings as the farmer spread the ice around him.

They calmed down when they began pecking and eating the food.

"Alright, the eggs," he remarked, heavily exhaling while sweating profusely.

His back, chest, and armpits already wet as he approached the nesting box and stuffed his gloved hand inside. He was seeking as his eyes guessed where the eggs were.

"Huh. There's nothing here," he said when he did not detect any egg in the area, so he took his hand out and began searching elsewhere.

When he held one, he excitedly grinned and remarked, "Here we go!"

He carefully extracted it from the hay.

He brought the egg up to his face and touched it with the tip of his other finger. Because it was so hot, he hastily retracted his finger and took note of the temperature.

He blew air into it and was pleased with the result.

"I'm not sure if they're good or not," he replied thoughtfully as he carefully placed the egg in the basket and continued, "They're just too different from ordinary chicken eggs."

He resumed harvesting the eggs one by one and storing them in the basket, but then he held an unusually shaped egg with his fingertips.

"Huh? What exactly is this?" he was surprised to feel something that wasn't an egg.

He was so intrigued that he kept caressing it.

Then he identified the egg based on his intuition, asking, "Why is it squishy with something squishy inside?"

With a conflicted face, he stopped feeling it and began to think things out.

A few moments later, he shrugged, "Eh," and went on, "I'm just going to give it to Popped. I think he-"

When he was holding it, he felt a quick pulsing movement that made him look at it and say, "What? It moved."

What happened troubled him, and he stared at it as his curiosity grew.

All of a sudden, he clenched it with a firm hold and yanked it hard.

Following that, he sensed a stretch that carried something heavy underneath.

A stranger screamed in agony, "Aaah! Aaaaahhhh!"