Chapter Text
Where does all of this begin (and where does it end)?
Have you ever felt like you are doing something over and over again? And you can't break out of this endless cycle, no matter how hard you try? Is it just boredom, or have you gone crazy? You can’t tell anymore.
For you, life is something precious. Everyone and everything deserves to have a chance for life, but somehow, your own life has become irrelevant to you. You have been stuck in this limbo of numbness, where no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to find any emotions. Days turn into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. But what are those days, weeks, months, and years to somebody like you? Somebody who can’t feel the flow of time itself. You are cursed, cursed with longevity so long that one could call it immortality.
You are part of an extensive world hidden from human eyes, a world full of creatures out of fantasy and mythology books. Creatures that have different appearances, powers, instincts, hierarchy … you name it. One could find such a creature anywhere in society if one knew where to look. One could spot a creature basking in the sun, grocery shopping or even giving a speech on the TV. They hide and blend with the humans, playing on the same playgrounds, going to the same schools, and working the same jobs. Even in the world of supernatural creatures, your kind is known to be just another fairytale. For even them, your existence is a miracle. You and your kind are bound to live longer than any of the known creatures. Many different names have named your kind; pixie, fairy, haunted spirit, elves, but none of those was the correct term.
You are a dryada.
A spirit born within a tree, growing intelligent and stronger over the years. For dryads to be born, there has to be a strong concentration of magic. There are few places in the world with strong enough magic for a dryada to be born. Hence there are so few of your kind, so few that in all your life, you have never met anyone like you.
Dryads reach adulthood when they have collected enough magic in their roots to turn it all into a physical body that resembles a human. After that, the body will work as the vessel for the mind while your life essence stays in the tree. It means that your mind will be transported back into the tree even if the human body dies. Of course, dryads will suffer a strong backslash, but they will at least survive. But dryads aren’t immortal. If you cut down the tree that serves as their true self, it is game over. Humans were always scared of dryads. Their ability to turn human and their main body being a tree made it hard to hunt them down.
On a wide clearing, there stands a large oak tree. Its size can be compared to a small mountain, as it towers over the clearing. Its crown of leaves, so thick and dense, covers the clearing like a dome. At the same time, its thick and long roots disappear underground. Who knows how far they reach? On one of the lower branches, a wooden swing was attached.
It was evening, or was it already night? You swing back and forth, feeling the gentle summer breeze on your naked feet and face. Your thoughts, far away from this place.
A small gentle smile is playing on your lips.
You take a deep breath, the smell of summer flowers fills up your nose, along with the smell of gasoline and gunpowder.
The sky was colored beautiful colors of red, orange, and black, smoke black. Soon you felt the scorching heat, the fire, it was near.
You could hear screams and pleas for you to help them, to save them.
You closed your eyes.
You could hear your soulmates, crying your name out in worry and pain.
You smiled a gentle smile, as you felt pain penetrate your chest.
As the blood streamed out your mouth, your last smile was colored red.
As your soulmates screamed your name, your hands let go of the swing.
You fell.