1 Chapter 1
It had been a while since Wren had climbed a tree this tall. His duties in the village consisted of taking care of the plants that kept close to the ground, only occasionally creeping up towards the sky. Furthermore, his schedule had recently become busier in the past few years. He was training to be the next village leader; a duty that consisted of hours of dedicated study.
He missed pulling himself up branch by branch; higher and higher until the ground was so far away, even a human looked like an ant. When he emerged at the top, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the air fill his lungs and cleanse his soul. As a child, he would spend hours in the tallest trees; talking to them and trying to get higher than all his friends. Now things were different.
The smile that had been on his face disappeared and he sat down, staring out at the vast expanse of forest in front of him. He never thought he would be the next leader. He didn't feel ready despite having four years of intensive lessons covering everything from medicine to plant identification. Why was he chosen and not someone else?
The tree shook and sighed beneath his weight.
"I'm not saying I'm the worst candidate to take over," Wren said, stroking the bark and letting the tree's life force sooth him. "I want to know why me? I don't feel I'm particularly special."
The wind shifted and changed directions, bringing the scent of the sea to his nose. He wrinkled it and scowled. "Yes, I do suppose that's one reason I don't want to take over."
He slid down and started rolling a pinecone between his hands. "I don't get how father expects me to listen to everyone in the village talk about how awful the Ocean People are. Then he turns around and tells me I need to be nice to them."
Of all the lessons Wren was having trouble with, diplomacy was the worst. As a leader, he needed to play nice with the other Forest Tribes and the Ocean City of Siezera. He didn't know why the Ocean People seemed to hate them so much, and no one could give him a clear answer. It seemed counterintuitive to hate a group of people who were keeping the earth together. But he suspected Ocean People weren't the smartest in the bunch. From what he had heard, they were rude, crass, and had little respect for the earth and all the Forest People did.
Though, as Linwood had reminded him, on land, the Forest People had the advantage. They weren't that stupid if they were able to recognize this and didn't attack.
Still, the uneasy peace between the two cultures was something that Wren now got to deal with. Fun. He turned and saw the distant ocean, the salty air still on the wind and ruining what was supposed to be a nice break.
Oh, who was he kidding? This wasn't a break, this was him running away from his responsibilities. He couldn't keep up with the vast amounts of knowledge he was supposed to know. He was once great at remembering plants and their many medicinal properties. Today he struggled to remember what one could do with yarrow. Then in a diplomacy lesson with his father, they had gotten into an argument because Wren couldn't figure out the right way to settle a territory dispute between two Forest Tribes. His father had stormed out of the tent, leaving Wren in tears because he didn't understand why they couldn't split the land. When no one had come to get him after an hour, he stood up and ran to the tallest tree in the forest.
Now that he was up here, finally away from expectations, he felt better. "Hopefully a better candidate comes along soon. Then I won't have to lead the tribe at all!"
The trees swayed in the wind and the branch Wren was perched on started to shake. He patted it. "I should get going, huh?" He didn't want to. He wanted to stay here, or run off and go somewhere where no one would expect anything from him.
The branch shook again.
"Father and Linwood will want to know where I am. They want me to learn more about diplomacy."
The trees around him rustled. He closed his eyes and listened to their leaves and needles, shifting together to create a beautiful melody.
"I want to be a good leader. I want to make things better for everyone. I'm afraid that I'm not good enough. People are relying on me to make actual decisions that could affect them for generations. I'm not sure I'm good enough." Tears had sprung to his eyes and he scrubbed at them, trying to get them to disappear.
It was subtle but immediate. The entire forest swelled with energy and Wren felt it rush through him, warming his entire being. The forest was the one who had given him its blessing. The words he spoke, while they might have reflected how he felt, indicated he did not trust the forest.
"You're right," he said. "You're right. I should trust you. You've never led me astray."
He was grounded now, ready to continue his training and take on the role of a proper village leader. He started to climb down the tree, dropping branch by branch. He was about half-way down when he noticed something odd. The forest was quiet.
He paused on a branch and strained to listen. No, it wasn't quiet, but he could hear some odd rustling off in the distance. With a jolt, he realized for the first time in his life, he could hear the ocean. There were no birds chirping. There were no small animals scratching as they ran through the detritus. The leaves weren't rustling. He put his hand on the trunk of the tree. It was shaking, but not in a way that indicated life and health, in a way that indicated pain.
"I'll have to tell Linwood and father." He moved to drop down to the next branch. Here the shaking became much clearer as if struggling to hold Wren's weight.
"I'll move fast so you don't have to suffer." He made to drop down to the next branch. A few more feet and he could jump from the tree so it didn't have to be in pain.
The branch snapped.
Wren clawed at the tree as he attempted to slow his momentum before he broke his back on the forest floor. No one knew where he was and it could take them hours to find him, hours that might kill him should he fall just right. His nails were torn up, some ripped from his fingers. The branches were smacking him, bruising his skin and bones, cutting deep into his flesh.
He tried to get the tree or some vines or something to help him break his fall, but nothing would come. Why? Perhaps he overestimated the forest's faith in him.
He hit t he forest floor and was relieved to feel a thick layer of moss had made itself home beneath him.
He coughed and did a scan of his body. Everything hurt and he could feel blood seeping from his skin, but no bones felt broken.
"Thank you," He said, patting the moss and rolling off of it. The broken tree branch lay next to him. He picked it up and examined the broken pieces. "Tar?"
His fingers were coated with a thick, black, sticky substance. He had never seen anything like it coming out of a tree before. He walked back to the tree he had fallen out of. "Do you mind if I look?" he asked it. The tree shuddered and he scratched off a bit of the bark. Instead of sap coming out of the tree, the black substance spewed out, oozing like blood from a wound.
"What is this?" Wren whispered. He felt his heart drop. "The crystals!"
He ran towards the sacred area of the forest, the area where the living crystals were kept. These small stones were not only beautiful; they provided life to the forest.
He reached the fairy circle, a small circle of trees, mushrooms, and flowers that made up the barrier. Only someone who knew how could enter without cutting themselves on the poison plants. Wren squeezed through the gap and popped into the middle of the ring. He gasped upon seeing the thick, black ooze spewing from the ground. All the crystals had turned an ugly grey color, no longer showing the brilliant blues, reds, yellows, purples, and greens that they once were. Wren picked up his favorite crystal, the fruiting crystal. It was now barely colored, looking like grey water that used to be someone's laundry water.
"What happened? Who did this?" The crystals didn't respond. Wren could see the mushrooms and flowers that were once perfect, were now deformed and dying. Even the leaves of the tall trees were curling up and dropping to the floor, rotting away.
"I have to tell the village." Wren put the fruiting crystal back and gathered up some of the decaying plants. He also wiped some of the tar with the end of his tunic, not that he needed anymore; the substance was staining his fingers and coating his hair. Still, he needed to let everyone know. They had to be able to do something. They had to find out who did this. They had to save their home.
