A chill wind tore through the desolate little village, whistling through any cracks in the worn houses. Windows which hadn't been secured enough rattled as the wind pushed past them, making its way into the homes, causing any lit candles to flicker. The cold began to creep along the floor, brought in by the howling winds outside. The black, moonless night had been painted by thick and gloomy clouds, harbingers of winter. Frost formed with a gentle crackle along the edges and corners of the window glass, appearing in just moments, as though they had been touched by winter itself. A stubborn hand rubbed at the window, ignoring the freezing cold of touching it, trying to erase these determined signs of the cold season.
"I hate winter, Mama." With her legs folded beneath her, she sat on top of an old chest by the window, looking out at the swirling snow. Barely five years old, her soft and round features were scrunched up in a frown and a pout as she firmly put her now red and cold hands in her lap. It was a face of displeasure, one she turned to face her mother with.
"That's no way for a lady to look." Her mother scolded gently, with a small smile playing on her lips as she approached the window, drying her hands off an old towel.
"Winter is a part of life, my dear."
"But Mama, why does it have to be? I want it to be beautiful all year..! There's no fun in winter… All it is, is cold." Heaving a small sigh, her shoulder slumped and her gaze lowered to her hands. When her mother put her hand on hers, she lifted her head to look up at her. Her mother was smiling as she urged her daughter to scoot over, in order to sit down on the chest with her.
"We all go to bed and sleep at night so that we can have energy during the day, don't we?"
"Yes Mama..?"
"Well, winter is nature's night. It's when nature goes to bed, and pulls a blanket made of snow over itself, and sleeps until spring. If it didn't, it wouldn't be awake for the rest of the year." Stroking her daughter's hair, the woman looked out through the window, watching the snow blow by their window. The young girl huffed, puffing out her cheeks as she crossed her arms over her chest in an act of protest.
"Well I think nature's a big dumb sleepyhead!" That remark lured a laugh out of her mother, who scooped up the girl in her arms.
"Something you can't afford to be. Come now, it is long past your bedtime."
"Lucy! Lucy!" It was barely that she could hear her mother through the brisk spring winds. Lifting her head, she just had to wait until she heard her name called just once more before she sprung up from her squatting position. Her skirt was coated in mud from the soft earth of the field, and her leather shoes didn't fare much better as she, sack of seeds in arms, ran through the field towards the house.
"I'm coming Mother!" Leaping over the steps up onto the porch, the placed the sack on the bench beside the door before yanking it open.
"You called?" Her mother stood in the kitchen, the window facing the fields being wide open. It was a warm spring, but yet her mother stood in the kitchen, with all tools for baking ready to use.
"Yes, Lucy, be a dear and run down to the miller and get me some flour. Bring Butch with you, he needs a walk."
"Will do!" She smiled cheerfully as she dipped her hand in the coin jar, picking up a few and counting them before putting them in the pocket of her apron. Spring always kept her busy, but she liked it that way. Walking round to one of the short sides of the house, the sound of a dog's barking could be heard. A light laugh left her as she saw the excited mutt.
"C'mon Butch, you ain't no prancing pony!" The dog didn't seem to listen to her as it kept eagerly trotting in place, spinning around every now and then until she opened up the pen, allowing him outside. Despite his unruly attitude, he was a well-behaved dog who remained at her side at almost all costs.
"C'mon boy, let's get down to the miller." There was a spring in her step as she made her way through the village. It was a peaceful village much like any other. It had its baker, blacksmith, miller, butcher and tailor, and of course its farmers. It even had a church, albeit a small one, not at all as grand as those in the bigger towns. But none the less, it was the feature in the village, standing on top of a small hill at the south of the village. It did share the spotlight with the flour mill, or at least she thought so. Lucy had always loved the flour mill, the way it was run by nature itself, situated by the river.
"Well Lucy, aren't you looking a right mess today!" Old man Thomson barked out a laugh at her arrival, and this was the first time she took notice of just how filthy her clothes were. He was a thick man, his face round and belly large, wrinkles sprouting from the corners of his mouth.
"I'm terribly sorry mister Thomson! Father is out on business today, so I have my hands full making sure the seeds get planted on the fields."
"Too bad your mother never had the decency to have a son, then you'd have some proper help!" She let out an amused laugh and shook her head.
"I'm perfectly fine on my own, thank you mister Thomas."
"So, what are you here for?"
"Mother needs a sack of flour."
"Mary is making bread again? She should just buy it from the baker like the rest of us." He grunted lowly but handed over the flour, getting a few coins in return. Thanking him ever so much, Lucy turned around to head home, closely followed by Butch.
She was partially to blame for her mother baking bread. She was so kind, eager to help Lucy with what she enjoyed, and didn't mind trying out baking with the herbs that she picked in the forest. It had only been a few months since Lucy had first encountered these herbs and plants, having read about them in books. They were incredible plants, so fragrant and flavourful, and had so many different uses. Nettle tea and rosemary bread was just the start. In time, she was going to make even more impressive things, without the help of her mother.
Seasons changed much like they always had. The heat and dryness of summer, where her father taught her everything she needed to know about working the fields, to the windy and colourful autumn, where she had to help both her father gather crops, as well as give her mother a hand with skirting and picking the fleeces that the sheep had produced in the spring, something that was way overdue. Winter came with its freezing nights and difficult times, only to leave in order for spring to yet again go into full bloom. Life was busy in this little village out in the country, and as time passed, another winter came and went. Spring arrived with its promise of great things, slowly turning into summer.
The sound of children laughing rung through the village. Two years had now passed, and Lucy was about to turn 14. Her hair had grown long, like a lady's hair should be, the dull chestnut strands reaching down to her lower back. Paired with striking apple green eyes and skin graced by many hours in the sun, she was a young woman of nature. She hadn't grown much in height, but her slender frame was evidence of her life in almost constant motion. Scrapes and cuts under the dirty dress were caused by hard work and play, same with the dirt coating her hands.
It was a Saturday afternoon, and the children of the village were free from school as the only teacher had fallen ill with a terrible cold. Lucy had been given the task of tending to the children and "teach" them, but they had failed to specify exactly what. A failure that Lucy was going to take full advantage of.
"Is everyone gathered?" Lucy looked over the small group of children. There were seven of them, ranging from the ages of five to eight. They all reached up their hands, excitedly announcing their attendance.
"Miss Lucy, why are we outside? Are we not to be in the lecture hall?"
"Not today, Matthew. Today, we're going on a trip!" Giggles and squeals of excitement sounded from the small crowd as they chatted with each other, wondering where this trip would take them.
"Now, we're not going far, but we're going to the Forest Heart." Silence fell onto the children, which caused Lucy to frown slightly out of confusion. Stunned, she didn't find any words for this sudden hesitation. They had gone from excitement to caution and almost, fear. Finally, one of the boys stepped up.
"My Mama tells me we shouldn't go into the forest, that evil spirits can be woken from their slumber."
"James, no evil spirits will mind us walking there, if we show respect for nature." Smiling, she took the boys' hand, and the suppressed eagerness to explore caused the rest of the children to move as she walked towards the forest.
It wasn't very a large one, but it was a beautiful forest. Birds were fluttering as they zipped from tree to tree, and the ones still looking for a mate were chirping in the trees, searching for that special one. It was early summer and the forest was as green and vibrant as could be, with ferns growing as large as a dog, and leafy vines swirling up around the trees. Squirrels scurried across the network of branches high above them, some even bolted right past them, causing a stir of enjoyment and cheer in the children. Lucy knew that they didn't have much more than an hour or two to explore, but she did her best to educate the children on how the forest works while guiding them towards the Forest Heart.
"I didn't think people went into the forest much, but there are paths everywhere!" Edith exclaimed, pointing at all the slivers of paths that she could see.
"Those are the paths that the deer and other animals make, not people. Usually, they walk where there is plenty of food, so I dare say there are good berries or mushrooms, or just extra tasty leaves along all of these paths." She smiled gently but the children made faces, sticking out their tongues.
"Eeew, eating leaves! Yuck!" After a moment of surprise, Lucy let out an amused laugh, nodding in agreement.
"Yes, to us, leaves aren't very tasty, are they?" At least not most, but then she could teach them that another day.
"Now, keep your voices down, children." Her voice was soft as she spoke, almost a mere whisper as they approached a massive old oak. It was a thing of beauty with its majestic crown of leaves; the twisting vines much more present here than in the rest of the forest, gently hugging the moss that grew on the thickest of branches. There were nests of birds high up in the tree, nestled into the crooks of the branches, more than she had ever seen in one tree before. The owners of the nests were either right by it or fluttering around nearby, chirping with alarm, made nervous by the strange intruders.
"Is… Is this the thing you can see sticking up out of the forest when you stand on the church hill…?" The girl cautiously gripped at Lucy's skirt, looking up at the tree, as if intimidated by its size.
"That it is, Edith. This right here is the Forest's Heart, where the Forest Spirit lives." There was nothing but respect and affection in her voice as she spoke of the Heart and the Spirit, her lips curved in a smile as she bowed her head to the tree.
The next half hour however was spent trying to rein in overly excited children who all were attempting to find and capture the Forest Spirit. Unable to get them to simmer down, Lucy was unsure what to do. In the end, she had to make a game out of it, where she was the Forest Spirit, in order to lure the children back to the village as they chased her, laughing and shouting.
Inspired by the walk, the children all came to Lucy after school to be taken to the forest and taught other things. In time, they learned how to identify poison oak and other plants one wouldn't like to touch, as well as which berries and mushrooms were alright to eat, even though Lucy strongly advised them to come ask her first before they put any in their mouths. She taught them how to help a tree with a broken branch heal, the names of flowers, and which flowers are actually edible. The more they learned, the more they wished to learn, and Lucy could barely keep up with all their questions, but that was a headache she would gladly accept. Teaching children to respect and enjoy nature was far too valuable a gift to be given away simply because of some pain and confusion.
A few weeks passed, the busiest weeks of her life so far. Her 14th birthday came and went, but she had no time to celebrate such a trivial thing other than with some sweet bread and ale in the morning. With her father's passing and her mother growing frail, she had the whole farm to take care of. Thanks to the bull and horse, it wasn't that difficult, but it kept her busier than she'd like. Her time to study had been minimized to late at night, but she couldn't disappoint the children by having no more knowledge to give. Not with how they loved their trips to the forest. She couldn't possibly disappoint them.
One afternoon, there were only six children gathered at the edge of the forest, ready for their regular trip. Lucy looked around, her brow furrowing before she turned her attention to the children.
"Where's James? Does anybody know?"
"He's sick, miss Lucy. His mother says he can't come out. He didn't come to class either." Shifting her weight onto one of her feet, she put a hand on her hip. This was odd, James had seemed just fine the day before.
"That is truly too bad, I do hope it's nothing serious. However, that does give me an idea." The children seemed to forget the gnawing concern for their friend as they excitedly looked up at Lucy in expectation as she smiled, clapping her hands together.
"Today, we'll forage for some plants that can help you get over a cold!"
James didn't get any better. In fact, as days passed, he became worse and worse, and there didn't seem like there was anything anyone could do. Then, Edith fell ill as well, showing the same symptoms of skin plagued by rash and flaking, and their breathing sounded like that of an old cat kicked by a horse. Fearing it was contagious, James and Edith were put in a room together, and only the doctor and their parents were allowed to see them.
It didn't help. A couple of days later, Matthews's skin began turning red and itchy as well, and only a couple of hours after that, he was struggling to breathe. It didn't affect the adults it seemed, it didn't even affect her. The doctor had consulted all doctors he knew, but no cure had been found, they didn't even have a name for the wretched disease.
Everyone in the village was hoping it would simply go away on its own, much like how a cold eventually passed. The scenario of the children never getting healthy was in no one's mind. There was still hope, a sense of calm, a plan to wait this out. All that hope was shattered when James drew his last breath, only seven years old. The village was thrown into disarray and distress, and his parents were grasping for straws to keep their sanity.
Almost all from the village had gathered outside the house of the Blake family to show their support, to grieve for their passed son. Lucy stood there with the others, unable to believe that such a tragedy had struck the village. What on earth could have caused this, what brought such a terrible disease down onto the children of her village?
"It was her!" James's mother threw out her arm as she stumbled out of the house, pointing at Lucy. The woman's eyes were red from days of crying, her cheeks flushed from rage as her mind settled on that Lucy was the cause of her sons' death. A hum of uncertainty rose from the villagers, while Lucy herself was lost for words.
"It was her, I tell you! The children were fine until she began bringing them into the forest!" Her voice cracked as she screamed, desperate for a perpetrator, someone to blame. Lucy backed up, blinking in confusion as she looked around, wishing for someone to stand up for her. No one did, and she was left to defend herself to the best of her ability.
"Surely you must see that's nonsense Mrs Blake, how could I possibly be the cause of this tragedy..?"
"It's witchcraft! Your witchcraft has cursed the forest, made the spirits angry!" In a rage she violently motioned towards both the forest and the sky, unsure where the spirits truly resided. Other voices were starting to echo the words of the distraught mother, especially those with ill children still alive. Like water repelled by a shard of soap, the villagers stepped away from the young girl, eyes narrowing in growing suspicion.
Suddenly, the slam of a door was heard and heads were turned. It was the mother of Edith, her skin as pale as a sheet, her eyes wide and filled with pain.
"She's dead! My baby girl is dead!" The screech of Edith's mother was full of dread, chilling enough to send unpleasant shivers down Lucy's spine. Poor little Edith, such a sweet child..
"It's her fault! Oh, may god have mercy on your soul, you wicked witch! Because I will not!" Edith's mother seemed confused at first as her eyes hesitantly moved to fix on Lucy. Darkness seeped into her mind, clouding her judgement as resentment was evident in her voice.
"It was you..?"
"No, it wasn't me! I would never harm any of them!" She put up her hands as though that would protect her against the accusations of her fellow villagers, the people she grew up with, the people she loved. Her hands went to her chest, holding each other as her eyes flicked from person to person. The darkness spread like an airborne disease from one villager to another, the confusion being exchanged for hatred and a lust for vengeance.
"I love the children, I swear, I would never do anything to harm them..!"
But it was futile. Not even her mother was able to defend her against an entire village of raging parents, aunts and uncles desperate for someone, something to blame. A spark had lit the flames, and Lucy was left with no water. The trial was short and unfair, with her being convicted for witchcraft, as well as for upsetting the forest spirit, and she was condemned to death for these heinous crimes. Convinced that now that the forest had been tainted by evil, the villagers decided that it needed to be destroyed, so that it once more could be pure. Nothing seemed more fitting than for the witch who caused all this to burn down with the forest that cursed their children.
Thus, it was decided. The next morning before the sun arose; they bound and carried Lucy to the Forest Heart. It was a brisk morning with chill winds blowing through the trees, despite that it was in the middle of a dry summer. There, they chained her to the tree with chains made especially for this event, chains infused with silver, thought to be able to block any witchcraft.
All the hay grown that summer was gathered in other to give the fire a fruitful start. All through the procedures, Lucy pleaded for forgiveness for whatever she may have done wrong, begged for them to understand that she was no witch but one of them, another child of their village. Her voice seemed to go unheard, even as tears ran down her dusty cheeks, sobs making her tremble and shake. Even as the fire was lit and began to eat away at her clothes, she pleaded her innocence, for she loved those children as much as anyone else, and had entrusted her knowledge to them, knowledge no one else deemed important. All the ever had wanted was to help others and teach them how to both use and respect the nature they lived in. Her voice was soon drowned by the sound of the raging flames, and the villagers returned to the village, filled with hope that their children would be cured once the forest and witch were gone.
It took days for the fires to die out, but finally the last flame flickered and died on a moonlit night. There was nothing left of the forest, nor the girl. The animals were gone, the birds had flown away, and all that was left in the ashes were the chains that had sealed the girls' fate. The metal glimmered in the light of the moon, the ashes' soft shimmering giving them the look of pure black snow, as though it had simply fallen on an empty field.
Bathed in the light of the full moon, a single sprout forced its way through the thick layer of ash. In a burst of energy the sprout reached for the moon and the skies, twisting as it violently grew, branches stretching out from the trunk, buds and leaves sprouting in a fierce battle for survival, the energy granted from the moon itself. The vines sprouted from the ground, wrapping themselves around the now massive trunk of the great oak tree. In mere moments, trees were bursting up from the ashes, sprouting from the great oak and outward. Grass rose from the ashes, thickening to create the soft green carpet that had been there for so many years.
Before the sun rose, the forest stood anew, as if nothing had ever happened to it. There were no birds, animals or insects, but they would return in time. At the Forest Heart, everything wasn't as it always had been. Grown into the bark and timber of the oak, there was a great hole, coated by lush grass and fragrant flowers. On this bed of grass, cradled by the Forest Heart itself, laid a young girl clad in the colors of nature. Her chestnut hair was long enough to reach her lower back, and her eyes were a striking apple green, a contrast against the fair, yet sunkissed skin.
It was many years overdue, but the Man in the Moon had finally decided that it was time for another Mother Nature, one not bound by responsibilities like those created by family. No, it was due time for a Mother Nature of kindness and gentle touch, knowledge and passion with an immortal ideal. A Mother Nature who will not only tend to and care for nature itself, but also for those who live in it.