The forest shone in the morning sun! The ancient trees shed beautiful orange and green leaves, preparing for winter. The river gurgled peacefully down the nearby brook, bubbling over rock and under branch. A small dirt path wound through the forest, flowers lining the leafy walls. This is where Eril strolled, humming a tune of long ago.
Eril was a Gnome. Standing just over three feet tall, some of the flowers to the side of the path almost reached his head. His feet made a soft pat pat as he walked.
Eril was looking for a tree to climb. It was an everyday exercise of his, a personal challenge. He was to attempt something bigger and better than any of his past endeavors. He was going to climb one hundred limbs high. No Gnome had ever expected it of him, but if he were to compete in the Tree-Climb of Aryndwell he would need more than just weekly practice!
Eril’s friends and family scoffed at his ambition. “No Gnome can climb trees!” They insisted. “It’ll never happen.”
“I’ll show them!” Eril muttered under his breath.
Eril’s mood brightened as he came to the bridge overlooking the Pointed Creek. To the larger people, the creek was just a minor stream. But to Eril it was enormous.
When Eril was little (Just a foot and a half tall!), he used to play in this river. Although he was not allowed in the rapids, his family sometimes took a boat down this river. Eril remembered the bumpy, rocky feel of floating down the creek, occasionally falling overboard and having to be hauled back onto the craft.
Eril also remembered when he was ten, when he had asked his mother why the creek wound the strange loop that it did. Ever since he could remember, Eril had found the river odd- It never came to a stop! Now, that is not so unusual in itself- Most creeks run until they reach the ocean, but this creek wound a circle through the forest, an eternally churning loop through the sunny trees. It was quite unusual.
His mother had answered that she did not know why. It was a common rumor that the forest was magical. But most folk avoided this forest, and thus it could not be proven.
A short while later, Eril came to a fork in the road. Two wooden sign posts stood in between the two paths.
The path to the right read “Aryndwell.” Aryndwell was the largest settlement in the vicinity, although Eril had only ever visited three times.
Eril’s favorite visit to the city had been to see the Tree-Climb one Spring almost fifty years ago. The Gnome remembered watching the strong folk climb their trees, seeing who would reach the top first. The Dwarf fell off of his tree relatively quickly, but the others made admirable competitors. Eril was especially inspired by the Gnome that had won the competition. That day had shown him that anyone could do anything. Eril was taken with the sport.
He had been climbing trees ever since then. His progress went from one limb to two, and two to three. Then three to five. 49 years later, Eril was preparing for the tallest trees he could find, only settling for one hundred branches or more. And he felt that he was close.
Eril abruptly walked off the path. A tree towered maybe 200 feet, about 150 yards to the left.
Eril plodded over flowers and grass, and crawled under heavy undergrowth. The whole tree came into view, sprouting in the middle of a clearing in the other trees. The branches were perfect- a beautiful, poetic spiral into the sky.
Eril walked over to the base of the tree. He identified a branch, took a deeeep breath, and began to climb.
The tree’s smooth bark was gentle and soft. Yes, this was a good one. The view grew better and better as Eril climbed higher and higher. 10, 15, 20 limbs. 25, 30, 40. His arms began to quiver as he neared the top of the tree.
This was the final stretch. This was the highest Eril had ever climbed, and his arms shook with the effort. Ninety one. Ninety two. Ninety-
Eril gasped as his legs shot out from under him, and his small hand just barely caught the branch above him. He dangled in the air, and with a squeal realised that there were no other branches to haul himself up onto.
“Help!” He cried.
“What is wrong?” A soothing female voice said from above. “You are about to fall! Here, grab my hand!”
Eril looked up to see a beautiful woman with green, woody skin looking down at him with concern. She wore a white robe and a circlet of leaves upon her head, and her brown hair blew in the wind. She extended one hand, as thin as a branch. Eril grabbed it and slowly managed to climb up onto the thick limb upon which the green woman stood.
Struggling to regain his breath, Eril looked up at the beautiful woman.
“Wh- Who are you?” He gasped.
“I am just a maiden and protector of the woods.” Said the woman. “I am a Dryad, and this is my tree.”
Eril stared with fascination. He had heard legends of creatures such as these, as beautiful as the sky yet fearsome like a winter hurricane.
“Thank you for saving me!” Said the Gnome with a bow.
“It is no problem. Show more restraint the next time you decide to climb someone’s house, however.
“I am sorry, my lady.” Said Eril. “I meant no harm; I was just practicing for the Tree-Climb of Aryndwell in one year’s time, and this was the the tallest tree I could find.”
“It is quite alright,” The Dryad chuckled. “I am only jesting. Although, do be careful. Some of my sisters are not quite so light-hearted.”
“I will!” Eril exclaimed. “Both when climbing their trees and talking to them!”
“Now,” Said the Dryad. “Finish your climb, and then we must have some lunch!”
. . .
The Dryad’s tree home was enormous. Smooth, wooden walls formed a ring around the large dining room, and a beautiful wooden dining table sat laden with foods. Gaps in the tree trunk filtered light into the room.
“Welcome to my home!” Exclaimed the Dryad. I hope you find the accommodations most satisfactory.”
“‘Quite, my lady!” Squeaked the Gnome in awe. “Your home is enormous!”
The Dryad laughed.
“My tree has powerful magic. My magic. It creates my tree-home, which is what you are in now! Each and every tree in this forest has a home like this inside, although some are smaller than others. Young trees have young Dryads; They cannot build a house as large as mine.”
“Well, if you don’t mind- after a long climb, one needs a full belly…” Eril suggested, staring longingly at the food.
“Ah yes, of course!” Said the Dryad. Dig in!
Eril nodded his appreciation and then sat down to eat. He heaped his plate with a little of everything, for when their hunger is stoked, Gnomes can eat quite a lot. It all was excellent.
“Where did you get all of this splendid food?” Eril inquired between mouthfuls.
“That is another part of my tree’s magic.” Said the Dryad. “It provides me whatever I need. Well, that is, as long as I don’t wander too far from it. If stray too far, the connection between the tree and myself is severed, and I am forced to wander the world as an exile of the forest.”
“So… If you need not eat this food, where do you get your energy?” Eril asked.
“I gain my energy from the sun;” The Dryad explained. “I must bask in it every day. Otherwise, I would starve and grow old and frail.”
“But I never have company. Tell me, visitor, of your life. What of your home? Your family?”
The Gnome told many stories, some good, others not. The Dryad relished each the same, asking nearly as many questions as Eril had.
Finally, Eril finished his turkey leg, and stood up.
“Well, I’d best be off.” The Gnome said. “I have already overstayed your hospitality, and I thank you for it. But there are many more days ahead, and paths to tread. I must continue my search for perfection, so that I may win the Tree-Climb! And now, I must find my way home and get some sleep.
“Ah, yes. I do suppose the hour is quite late. The moon has already peeked its head over the trees. But… you are welcome to stay the night here, if you wish!
Eril yawned.
“That does… sound… quite… nice... “ muttered the Gnome sleepily.
“Yes, let us get you to bed, traveller.” Said the Dryad. She motioned to a bed Eril had not noticed before sitting in the corner. Eril crawled in without a word. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
“Sweet dreams, Eril.” Whispered the Dryad.
She stepped with graceful silence to the door, stooping to blow out the small candle that illuminated the exit.
. . .
Morning sun filtered in through the windows. Eril awoke slowly. Where was he?
Oh, yes. The Dryad’s home. He crawled out of the Gnome-sized bed and walked springily over to the dining table. A fresh slice of Pansy Pie and a cold glass of milk sat waiting for him. Eril ate.
After he finished the magnificent breakfast, the Gnome swung the tree door open and stepped outside. Eril paused a moment, savoring the view of the forest below (and the lands beyond) one last time. With a sigh, he began the descent.
Eril slipped a few times, but there always seemed to be a branch sitting in just the right spot. The breeze whispered beside him, it’s voice tickling his face and the back of his neck. The tree limbs were cool under Eril’s gloved hands.
Finally he reached the bottom. The Gnome turned to his left and made his way back to the path. It hadn’t been far now, had it? No more than 200 feet…
But where was the path? And something else was wrong…
Eril struggled to spot what was… different now, but he couldn’t see it at first. Finally, with a gasp of recognition, the Gnome realized that the orange, purple and green leaves that had sparsely filled the trees had been replaced by densely packed green leaves. The bushes as well were more vibrantly verdant. It was Spring.
Eril wandered in confusion. How could this have happened? And more importantly, if it was spring… had he missed the tree climb?
To be continued...
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