Casual Tea With A Tree (4)

After several sleeps, the leaves dried, so Ed began rubbing the branches together, trying many ways for several sleeps, till smoke rose from the leaves and fire sat in their middle.

"Tea," Ed said.

"Yes. The cup and kettle of mud are cooked I hear, put in fire till they become stone," the tree said and again, through several sleeps and many wakes, a tree whaled, and a man sat before it, burning a mud cup and kettle till it became stone. He lifts the hot cup towards the tree, without feeling the pain.

"Tea," he said.

"Yes, tea. Water in kettle, leaves put in, boiled over fire. Tea," the tree drawled, and again for several sleeps and many wakes, a tree whaled, a man sat in front of a fire, kneading mud for the kettle to sit. Soon, a soft whiff of tea surrounds both as the kettle with water and leaves come to a boil.

"Tea," Ed said as though he had seen something he knew.

"Yes, Tea," the tree drawled and Ed poured in a cup and took a sip. The next moment, he found himself frozen in place against a scenic backdrop. Cherry blossoms bloomed and laughter sang from afar.

"Who am I?" Ed asked, but no one heard, no one answered.

Spring went and summer came. Youths gathered under him and plucked his leaves to brew tea. They drank tea and pondered upon great worldly topics. They came and went till autumn passed and winter came. Few came to drink tea under him. Even when they did, they came with their own tea. Years passed, decades went by, and centuries rolled through. Time continued for days on end. Those who came, aged, died and their sons came. Only after a few centuries, and wisdom and rubbish were discussed under him did he realise he was a tree.

More centuries passed and millennia weighed in. He had become to many, a sacred tree; those who drank his leaves gained enlightenment. More knowledge and great topics passed under him. Some he absorbed, some he ignored. After a few millennia, he realised he was the hell tree.

His enlightenment came slowly, but surely. After more millennia, he realised he was no more a tree, he was an entity. Knowledge of the years was still locked within his leaves and being, but not many could drink his tea anymore. Soon, few could even discuss under his shade. They stood farther away. A small radius around him had become full of the dark.

"You have lived long enough, don't you think?" A voice said through the darkness.

"It is not shocking that I find you first since your form is a contrast to who I am. It is unnatural for a tree to live this long. I almost ignored you if you had not started to manifest your true nature," the man walked closer. Ed saw the figure approaching and felt something about him was familiar. Especially the way he smiled. Even though he had not seen that face before, he knew who it was.

"Oracle," Ed said unconsciously. How he knows this person, he was not sure. He realised that his words came out this time and the man heard him. He seemed to drawl as he spoke. The words were heavy.

"Oracle? You seem to know me even in this form?" the man asked.

"You are definitely that woman, the oracle of Deranox," Ed said and the man frowned slightly.

"You can even see what I will become. You really are it. You really are. I was not sure at first, but to see so clearly, you have to be," the man said.

"What am I?" Ed asked.

"May you never know," the man smiled and Ed felt his being get ripped away. There were no more scholars under the tree, no tea to drink. Even his leaves had shed till none left. Darkness remained and seemed to go on forever, till a man sleeping in the distance appeared in the dark. Ed called out to him but only whales and moans sounded out. Soon, a flute sounded in the distance, waking the boy and the boy walked up to him, stood before him and stared before returning. Till one day, he spoke and the boy heard and the boy was but an empty, with nothing within. So he filled it sometimes. The boy taught him to sleep again. The boy raised great topics and Ed replied. They talked about death and tea and fire. Finally, someone sat under his shade and drank his tea again. The flute ended in the distance and called both of them to sleep. For how long they slept, they did not know, it also did not matter.

The flute sounded again waking Ed from his sleep. Sometimes a man was a tree, sometimes a tree was a man; the smell of tea enveloping all.