In the heart of the ancient forest, where the towering trees stand sentinel, their branches reaching skyward like nature's cathedral, the group awaits the arrival of the friend of Elder Oak. The air is thick with the scent of ravens and birds that flock in the grove, as a soft carpet of fallen leaves crunches beneath their boots. Shafts of golden sunlight filter through the dense canopy, casting a dappled pattern on the woodland floor.
The trees, adorned with twisted vines and lichen-covered bark, create a calming and relaxing atmosphere, despite the birds and ravens' best efforts to fill it with noise. Birds flit from branch to branch, their vibrant plumage a contrast to the emerald greenery. The wind, a gentle whisper through the leaves, carrying birds alike through the canopy letting them glide through the air.
As the group stands in silent reverence, a small figure emerges from the shadows. A Child of the Forest, with almond-shaped eyes that gleam with ancient wisdom, steps forward. Their skin is as smooth as the birch trees surrounding them, and their hair, the colour of moss, cascades down like a verdant waterfall.
The Child of the Forest regards the group with an expression that blends curiosity and a knowing smile. Their presence seems to harmonize with the natural surroundings, a living embodiment of the forest's mystique.
"Welcome, travelers. You seek the guidance of the woods, and here you find it," the Child of the Forest says, their voice a melodic whisper. "I am Pine, a guardian of these ancient woods. Oak has told me of your purpose and for that, I extend my gratitude for your sacrifice."
"No need Pine we are all in the same boat and if what Oak said is true then we all need each other to fight against it," Brandon said.
"Still my thanks, Brandon, now kindness would dictate that I bring you to the Grove however humans are not much loved there. History has made it so that your kind are … not loved much. So, I would not bring you in case of harm. But a friend of Oak is a friend of mine so I offer you my home, stay and rest the night here and I shall look after you." Pine said.
"Oh," Jocelyn exclaims quietly to herself, whilst Lyanna pats her head.
"Thank you, Pine. It would be much appreciated," Brandon said, glancing at the group, who wore expressions of gratitude.
Pine guides the group away from the heart tree and towards a towering tree. It parts to them like curtains, revealing a hidden entrance within the bark of an ancient giant. The air is imbued with an earthy fragrance, and the ground underfoot is cushioned by a carpet of moss, creating an inviting atmosphere.
The entrance, seamlessly melded with the natural surroundings, opens into a cozy dwelling. The interior is surprisingly spacious, considering its arboreal origin. Soft, ethereal light filters through the leaves, casting a gentle glow on the wooden furnishings.
The furniture, expertly crafted from branches and vines, showcases the Children of the Forest's skilled affinity with nature. Elaborate patterns and symbols, reminiscent of the forest's flora, adorn the surfaces, creating an ambiance of serene mystique.
In one corner, a hearth made of river stones radiates warmth, surrounded by comfortable cushions fashioned from woven vines. The walls, lined with intricate tapestries depicting scenes from the forest's history, tell stories in a language that transcends words.
Pine gestures toward a communal area with low tables and cushions, inviting the group to make themselves at home. "This is my sanctuary, where the heart of the forest beats in harmony with me. Rest here and let the whispers of the leaves lull you."
Jocelyn, still processing the marvel around her, whispers to Lyanna, "This is so cool sis."
Lyanna nods, her eyes raking over every detail of the home. "It's incredible. I never imagined such a place existed."
"It is quite something isn't it; the gods of the world have given it life so that we get to experience it," Pine says and he happily gazes upon his home.
With a graceful motion, the Child raises their slender arms to the heavens, their fingertips tracing patterns in the air like notes upon a celestial score. And then, with a voice as pure and sweet as the babbling brook, he begins to sing.
The melody that spills forth is unlike anything heard by mortal ears, a symphony of nature's creation. Each note hangs in the air like a gossamer thread, weaving a tapestry of sound that transports all who hear it to a realm beyond mortal comprehension.
The music swells and cascades, rising and falling like the ebb and flow of the tides. It speaks of ancient forests and forgets realms, of whispers carried on the wind and secrets whispered in the shadows. And as the Child's voice reaches its crescendo, a wave of emotion washes over all who listen, their hearts swelling with a profound sense of awe and wonder.
For at that moment, in the presence of the Child of the Forest and their hauntingly beautiful song, time seems to stand still. All worries and cares are forgotten, lost amidst the harmonious melody that fills the air. And when the final note fades into silence, leaving only the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft murmur of the breeze, tears glisten in the eyes of those who have been touched by the magic of the Child's music.
For they have borne witness to something truly miraculous, a glimpse into the timeless beauty of the natural world and the boundless power of the ancient beings who call it home. And though the melody may fade, its memory will linger forever in the hearts of all who were fortunate enough to hear it.
"Wow," Jocelyn says, wiping a tear that had ticked from the corner of her eye.
"Few humans have ever had the privilege to hear the True Tongue, let alone hear it sung, but I hope that it shall give you the strength of the beauty that is in life."
As the group settles in still reveling in the moment of music, Pine prepares an herbal incense gathered from the forest, its soothing aroma filling the air. The walls seem to echo with the forest's song, welcoming the weary travelers into the embrace of their newfound sanctuary.
"Come rest yourself and feed yourselves whilst you can, for I fear as you travel further north things are only going to get more difficult for you."
"Do you know anything Pine?" Edric asks.
"Only what the raven whispers, tales of humans crazed with hunger, beast brazen with fright. I can only gather information that I hear from my ravens, but they speak between themselves. They tell me of the white monsters."
"There are no white monsters, not that I know of," Brandon says as he rubs his face.
"It makes little sense to me, and for them to be up at Fist of the First Men. More concerning is my ravens never wanting to get close, fear that it will kill them just like everything else. It is becoming increasingly dangerous out there so make sure to look after yourself, we have already lost some of our people to it."
"Can I ask how that happened?" Jocelyn asked.
"Jocelyn you should not ask that, it's rude and personal," Lyanna said as she covered her sister's mouth before she moved it away when Jocelyn licked it.
"It is quite alright, one of our elders did not return after they went north trying to look into what was happening. Aloe was his name. They have not replied with raven and no raven can find them either."
"Apologies for asking Pine and we are sorry for your loss," Lyanna says.
"It is fine, they knew what they were getting into and although their body is gone their spirit is in the forest now with the gods." He said with a slightly peaceful smile on his face. "Now enough of that, tell me of your journey and how it has been, I wish to know of the world that is outside the reach of my ravens."
As the tales unfold in Pine's sylvan dwelling, the air seems to absorb the essence of the lands and rivers described. Pine, his eyes reflecting the wisdom of centuries, listens intently as the group recounts the trials faced beyond the forest's embrace. The flickering light of the chamber casts shadows, each dance reminiscent of the ebbing flow of rivers and the undulating landscapes they've traversed.
The vivid narratives paint a poignant picture of a dying land, its once-vibrant spirit succumbing to the relentless grip of hardship. Pine, though rooted in the heart of the forest, becomes an empathetic spectator to the harrowing struggles endured beyond the veil of trees.
The stories of abandoned villages and the desperation that drives bandits to dark deeds weave through the tapestry of conversation. The chamber resonates with the weight of these revelations as if the very walls bear witness to the encroaching shadows threatening the delicate balance of nature.
As Brandon shares the group's journey, Pine's expression shifts, his ancient features revealing a mixture of sorrow and understanding. The forest-dweller, accustomed to the whispers of leaves and the subtle murmurs of woodland creatures, absorbs the group's firsthand accounts with a solemn grace.
The tales continue until Brandon, perhaps noticing Jocelyn's sleeping breaths, sees her leaning on her sister for support. The realization prompts a collective agreement to conclude the day's storytelling.
The room, infused with the lingering echoes of shared experiences, transitions into a sanctuary of rest. Pine, bids them a restful slumber, and the group disperses to find reprieve in the embrace of sleep, leaving behind the tales of a world in flux.
/
Hey, just here to say that I have published the re-write of chapters 6-10. I would love it if you went back and re-read it and gave me some feedback on it.
Thanks
Alex Knight