Nora stepped into the wash basin and poured a ladle of water over the stove rocks. A hiss of steam leapt to the ceiling before cascading over her body. Sweat formed, and with it came the dreaded rivers of dark fluid. It stained like oil and smelt like death. She never learned how to stomach it.
But the daily chore was necessary. It was the law.
The grimy liquid flowed down her skin in rivulets, gradually filling up the basin. It took awhile for her body to purge its load of filth, but after copious ladles of water, her sweat eventually turned clear.
She relished clean water as she washed. Next, she readied her offering bucket, stained black from years of use, and emptied the basin into it. Satisfied with the amount, she dried off, donned in her drab shirt and skirt, and stepped outside to cool off.
Towering pines surrounded the bath shed in neat rows. Aromas of split wood and sap hung in the air. The culprit of the scent was her father’s wood shop, a few stone-throws away.
Past the pine plantation loomed the wall of gray stone. It soared in height–twice that of the tallest pine. The wall surrounded the town of Kosmos. No one knew when it was built, and no one knew what laid beyond it. View of the outside world was impossible. There had never been a gate, nor stairs to the top. There was no escape. Every attempt to do so was met with its own punishment of falling to a bone-crushing death.
Nora added a log to the shed’s fireplace to keep it warm for the rest of her family. Then she picked up her bucket of black and headed for the village center.
Her blonde hair dried as she meandered through the rows of tall pines surrounding her family’s homestead. The ceiling of needles whispered with the stirring of wind while she walked through the serene, but raw, morning air below.
The moment she emerged from the trees, a gust knocked a few locks of hair loose from behind her ear, tickling her nose. She wedged them back into place and joined the main road that found its end in the center of the village ahead.
Sweat residue stained every surface, shading the buildings with gloom. Deposits of black lodged into every cranny. The reek was oppressive. But despite the horror, the town moved with its usual quiet bustle. Tradesmen were sitting in the front of their shops, starting the work day, while farmers carted in their produce from the agrarian side of the town. Many other villagers were cooling off from their bath shed purging.
Being the daughter of the only woodcutter in Kosmos, Nora eyed the various woodpiles outside the homes she passed. She memorized which ones needed stocking.
After rounding a few corners in the haphazard array of hovels, she crossed a small bridge that spanned the town’s only river. The road immediately became a stairway, beckoning her up to the Kosmos courtyard.
She began the ascent. The steps brimmed with thick, deep red shrubbery, which crowned the entire hill in its hue. Nora savored the sight. It was one of the few beautiful things she had ever known.
The breeze accompanied a quake of thunder in announcing the arrival of storm clouds. The gray mass had already stretched its wisps over the village and was now creeping towards the morning sun. The sunlight eventually faded into cold purple as the storm’s shroud advanced on the rays.
At the top of the stairs, awaiting her in the center of the courtyard, was the familiar nightmare. It was a monstrous tree from hell, hideous and glorified. Being the tallest structure in the highest location, it demanded all wandering eyes to heed it. Its rotund trunk twisted skyward, dispersing limbs and branches with the ambition of a monument.
As Nora crossed the cobblestone yard, a string of lightning weaseled overhead, followed by a few pops and rumbles of thunder. It gave her an excuse to look at something other than the spindly giant. Her chest tightened with each step. Still a ways from the behemoth, she eyed the black stalagmites at the trunk’s base to decide where she should deposit her contribution.
She raised the bucket to dump, but in her haste, the fluids back-splashed on her skirt. She flinched and stepped back, but in the sudden twitching, she felt something stream down her arm.
Setting her bucket down, she pulled back her tattered sleeve. Out came a trickle of black liquid. With a quivering hand, she swiped it into the bucket, but more kept bubbling from her skin. She let it drip onto the stalagmites as she repeated the massaging. When it didn’t stop, her movements became manic.
“Always one to put on a show,” a young man said behind her, “but climbing up here just to squeeze out a few drops is a bit much.”
“Shut up, Lukis, it just happened.” She kept her attention on her arm. “What are you doing here so early, anyway?”
The man reached down and picked up one of the tree’s fruits, which had fallen prematurely, and studied it. “Only one week until Harvest, and there’s already plenty of juice for the Breathers to suckle. They won’t miss it if I forget a day or two of drippings.”
“Stop calling them that.”
He flipped his shaggy blonde hair to the side. “We name them for what the abomination they are. Dead monsters aren’t supposed to breathe.”
“They’re Guardians. They keep us safe.”
“Safe…” Lukis scoffed.
“Come on.” Nora spoke to her arm. Her quivering redoubled. Dark drops kept grazing the stalagmites. “Why won’t it stop?”
Lukis squeezed the fruit, letting the black juice drain from his clenched fist. “Look, Nora, because you’re my sister, I need to tell you.” He threw the fruit down and turned to her.
“What is it now?” she asked, still focused on her arm.
“We control when this ends.” He looked to the walls. “Soon we will see what’s beyond.”
She ignored his preposterous statement, took a long breath, and gently massaged her arm one more time. The black streams subsided. She paused to be sure her arm was done before grabbing her bucket and leaving Lukis behind.
“I’m not talking about this,” she said, marching to the steps.
“Ha!” He ran up to her. “You think the tree can hear you?”
She ignored him again.
He trotted in front of her, with his head leaning into her vision. “Pretty soon everyone will see the truth. Ivan says the Breathers–”
“I said I don’t want to talk about this. Not now, not ever.” Her eyes were locked on her arm, now red from rubbing. Another rumble of thunder tickled her feet as they neared the stairs.
“The filth, the tree, the Breathers–it’s all a conspiracy,” Lukis insisted.
“Not so loud. Still not talking about it.”
They began their descent.
Lukis waved his arms in forced confidence. “I don’t care who hears me.”
They passed a few other villagers with their filth buckets. She nodded to them with a fake smile.
“Soon it won’t matter who hears me,” Lukis whispered. “We’ll be out of here. Ivan has this idea–”
“Ivan doesn’t even know what an idea is.” She adjusted her hair again and moved faster, letting her brother keep talking to himself.
“He’s right, you know.” Lukis tried to keep pace. “The tree is the real reason we sweat black. The roots run down,” he pointed in a swoop from the courtyard to the buildings below, “into our wells. Then we drink the water and just keep the cycle going.”
They came to the bottom of the stairs and turned towards home. A man wearing a crimson colored cloak–the distinct mark of a Kosmos official–was patrolling towards them, spear in hand. His eyes scanned the street like a bully looking for a reason to punch.
“Once the tree is no more,” Lukis said, glancing at the official, before raising his voice, “we’re all free.”
Nora resisted smacking Lukis only because she didn’t want to rouse a ruckus.
“The Breathers,” he continued proudly, “will lose their hold without their precious fruit.”
The official’s long skinny eyebrows furrowed at Lukis. He held out his free hand in a signal to halt. “You, there. What did you say?”
Lukis stepped forward, looking far-too challenging.
The official’s mustache looked agitated, bouncing from unspoken words on the mouth it was concealing.
Nora grabbed her brother’s arm to rein his mouth.
It seemed to work, for he spoke in a lighter tone. “The Breathers.”
“The Guardians,” the man corrected. Being taller than Lukis, the official peered down at him with a frown. “What about them?”
Lukis mirrored his expression and said nothing.
“Hm?” The official stepped closer, bringing his free hand to rest on the hilt of his sword, which was previously concealed underneath his cloak.
A flicker of lightning stretched over the sky, and the thunder cracked only a moment after.
The official looked up with a slow lift of his chin. “Storm’s coming.”
“Yes, sir,” Lukis said in a deep tone.
The official looked back at him and gripped harder on the sword’s hilt.“Best to mind your words with the rumors of revolt poisoning our town,” he said. “We don’t want anyone to think you’re opposed to peace, now.”
Nora tugged at Lukis’ arm. “Let’s go.”
Lukis kept staring at the official for a moment, but then he lowered his eyes with a sigh.
“Find shelter, now,” the official said, hand still fixed on the sword hilt.
Nora tugged at Lukis again. This time he followed. When they were out of the official’s earshot, she leaned over. “Fool!”
“He’s the fool, working for them.”
“You’re welcoming death with antics like that.”
“They deserve it. They deserve what’s coming.” He grinned like a maniac. “Thestorm.”
Nora looked up. “What about it?”
“No, the storm. Our salvation.”
Nora shook her head and quickened her pace towards home.
The morning sun was now completely buried under the gathering clouds. The breeze had quickened, throwing light debris and wisps of sweat powder along the street.
Nora and Lukis walked quietly through the outskirts of the clustered buildings, through the newly-planted saplings, and into the pines.
At the homestead, their father was unloading a cart of unspilt logs at his wood shop while a tall, black-haired boy stood beside him, splitting maul in hand. He swung it down on a block of wood, carving it in half with a single blow. His body showed his trade well.
Nora focused on the door to their hovel and quickened her pace. “Ivan!” Lukis shouted across the clearing. “Will we get this done before the rain?”
“Now we will.” Ivan’s severe features belied his playful tone. “You’re here to clean my mess.”
Nora didn’t refuse Ivan’s deep voice from ringing in her chest, but she cut it off with a slam of the door before it could grow into something more.
“Nora? That you?” Her mother’s voice came muffled from the pantry. ”Is Ivan staying for corf?”
“I don’t know what he’s doing.”
“Does he like the Salden beans or the new variety from the Hannik family?”
“Corf is corf. Just brew whatever.”
Something loud clanged and shattered. “Oh, birshta! Not again. Well, could you grind the beans while I finish cutting these herbs?”
“I’m helping Lukis load the wood cart.”
“I thought Ivan is helping.”
“Lukis and I are Pa’s children. This is our wood. Ivan has his own job.”
“But not his own family,” her mother said, finally coming into view. Everyone always said Nora was the exact image of her mother. Looking at her now, she imagined herself growing old with a family of her own. It seemed impossible.
Nora dodged her eyes. “There are plenty of young women for him.”
“It’s not too late for you two.”
“He’s in love with rebellion, not women.”
“There’s nothing wrong with dreaming of a better life outside.”
“Oh great.” Nora rolled her eyes. “He’s gotten to you too.”
“I’ve always had my convictions about this place, Nora.”
“Fine. I grant that this place isn’t perfect. But who’s to say the outside world is any better. What if it’s worse?” She rubbed some black residue from her arm and held it up. “And you’re forgetting we bring this filth wherever we go.”
Her mother said nothing.
Nora flicked the residue into the fireplace. It sizzled against a glowing log. “Does Ivan honestly think the Guardians won’t punish him for all his talk? They may decide to eat him alive.”
“I think not. The Guardians don’t punish your Pa even though he refuses to make offerings.”
Nora huffed and fetched her cloak. “I wish Ivan was more like Pa. There are more ways to rebel than throwing your life away.” She went to the door and paused before exiting. “Why can’t we just let dreams be dreams? And live at peace?” She slipped out before her mother could respond.
Glancing to the sky, she tied her cloak around her chest.
At the wood shop, their family ox was harnessed to the cart while Lukis wedged a crate of tinder onto the packed load.
Nora glanced around furtively. “Finished loading? Where’s Ivan?”
“He had to go into town.”
She bit her lip, looking in the direction of town. “He needs to stop this.”
“Stop what?”
“Working here, as if he could change my mind.”
“So you still haven’t answered him?”
“He knows my answer. I’ll wed when he drops this silly coup.”
“And accept tyranny?”
She glowered and shook her head to discard the argument. “We should go before this rain starts. No one wants wet wood.”
“We?”
She hopped onto the cart seat. “I’m coming with. You think I’m avoiding him, don’t you? I’ll show you.”
Lukis gripped the cart. “Nora, it’s fine. I can do this alone.”
“You coming? Or am I delivering this wood alone?”
“Nora,” he leaned towards her, “I think it’s best if you stay home.”
“I’ll talk to him and settle this. Now. He knows there are other men for me!” A lump formed in her throat at the idea of the ‘other men.’
Lukis sighed and slowly climbed up, glancing at Nora before slapping the reins. The ox bellowed and lurched forward.
The cart clacked into the outskirts of town, where the siblings stopped to unload the usual allotment of firewood at the first cluster of hovels.
Nora noticed an abundance of tinder hidden in a crate underneath the log bundles.
“Why so much tinder?” she asked.
“It’s needed.”
A rain drop pricked Nora’s forehead and she pulled up her hood. Soon the drops increased and softened the muddy road, making the ox’s hooves stick.
Lukis squinted to see better.
Nora shook her head. “Lovely. I told you you needed my help to–”
“Whoh!” Lukis pulled the reins.
The soaked figure of Ivan stood in the road, face wild.
“What is it?” Lukis said, eyes matching Ivan’s intensity.
“They’re coming,” Ivan said. His voice was hoarse from exertion. He held a jar of oil in his hand, whipping it around as he spoke.
“The officials?” Lukis asked.
“The Breathers!”
“But,” Lukis began with a puzzled frown, “it’s not Harvest.”
Ivan rocked his head. “No, Lukis, the plan. They know about the plan.”
“What plan?” Nora demanded.
Ivan’s skin paled when he saw her. “Why is she here?”
“I couldn’t keep her away,” Lukis said, swiveling around to free the crate of tinder from the cart.
“What are you doing?” Nora said.
Lukis leapt off to grab the tinder crate. “You need to go home.”
“Lukis, speak plainly,” Nora said.
“No time to explain,” Ivan interjected.
Nora gaped, finally understanding their motives. “You’re…you’re starting the tree on fire!”
“It’s the only way,” Lukis said.
“Won’t they suspect Ma and Pa?” Nora argued. “Who else has enough wood and tinder?”
“If this works,” Lukis said, “it won’t matter.”
The sound of marching soldiers came into earshot, despite the rain. They were just around the corner.
“You’ve killed us!” Nora said. “I need to warn Ma and Pa.” She turned to leave but Lukis grabbed her arm.
“Too late,” her brother said. “Don’t cause a scene or it’ll all be undone.”
She weaseled free and sprinted away. But the rain pelted her face and forced her to slow.
Lukis caught her, grabbed her by the waist and dropped her to the mud.
“Trust us,” he said. “Stay calm and act like you’re just delivering wood.”
“Pah!” She elbowed him but he didn’t flinch or budge. “You’re a fool, Lukis.” She spoke through clenched teeth.
Ivan arrived to help secure her. She squirmed and kicked, but they gripped harder.
“I can’t believe you two.”
They guided her into an alley, where a root cellar awaited.
“It’s safer in here, Nora,” Ivan said. “Wait til it’s over.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” she snapped. “And I hope you can live with yourself when this plan of yours doesn’t work, when everyone else gets punished. All your blubbering words of hope and freedom will get everyone killed.”
Ivan squarely faced her. “You’re the reason I’m doing this. Know that.” He unlatched the metal lock and opened the double wooden doors.
Nora winced at the cavernous cellar. “What is this place?”
“Our hideout,” Lukis said.
She sat on a bench, as Lukis guarded her from dashing away.
“Just let me go home,” she offered.
“And make up some story to Ma and Pa about what we’re up to? We all know you can’t lie.” Lukis scanned the room. “Ivan, where’s the lantern? We can use some of its oil to–”
The room went dark with the slam of the shelter doors.
“Ivan?” Lukis’ voice cracked with confusion.
The metal lock rustled into place on the other side, sealing them inside.
“Keep her safe, Lukis,” Ivan said from the other side of the door. “I’ll do this alone.”
“Ivan!” Lukis yelled, leaping at the doors, pounding. “What is this?”
Ivan’s only response was his wet footfalls in the mud, fading from earshot.
Lukis pounded again, harder and louder. He went to hit it again, but stopped and exhaled. “I don’t understand.”
Nora huddled into a ball, pawing at her wet clothes.
Thunder rumbled the wooden doors, and a wave of raindrops quickened their barrage and intensity on the outside.
“Ivan!” Lukis resumed pounding.
“Lukis, no!” Nora said, sitting up. “You’ll attract attention.”
“Now you’re concerned about that?” He pounded harder, only stopping to fiddle with the door latch.
Nora let the tears flow. “Why? Lukis? Why would you do this? Think of Ma and Pa.”
“Shh!” he whispered suddenly. “Someone’s coming.”
Numerous footsteps pattered outside the door. The metal lock rustled and the door swung open.
Lukis nearly fell to the ground at the sight of three Breathers, shrouded in black cloaks, standing in the entrance. Their pale, wrinkled faces peered out from their hoods with the semblance of eels. True to their name, they all wheezed with delight at the sight of the siblings.
The one in the middle, presumably the leader, flicked its right hand, long and gnarled, as a signal to the other two. Without hesitation, they leapt into the cellar, grabbed Nora and Lukis, and heaved them onto their shoulders.
The smell of death choked Nora. She kicked and pounded at the Breather who held her, but the fiend held tight.
The captors stepped out of the cellar and strode into the downpour. They followed the leader towards the village center.
A moan rose over the sound of the rain and wind. It drowned everything out with its demanding pitches.
“It calls for them,” the leading Breather hissed.
They glided up the steps. The rain and wind pummeled and whipped their cloaks, but it only steeled their resolve. Their blonde captives were draped over their shoulders, heads bouncing.
Nora’s waist was numbed from the bony, inhuman hand wedged into it. The Breather’s other hand and arm cinched her legs together, leaving her hands free to rail against the beast’s backside. Yet with each rap of her fists, her captor quickened its pace.
When they reached the courtyard, the wind changed pitch, like the fluctuating wailings of a mourning mob.
“Nora!” Lukis yelled. He craned his head around the Breather’s side to look at the tree.
She angled her body to follow his gaze, squinting through the wind and rain. Her face went cold at the sight: the tree shook, but not from the wind. It whipped its limbs, giving it the appearance of an octopus. The black fruit flew in all directions from its convulsions. Its trunk bent, nearly cracking, as it swayed its enormous canopy.
The tree moaned, sending a tremor through the courtyard. Its tirade intensified, and bark ripped from its trunk with the increased exertion.
The Breathers hesitated and slowed their pace.
Nora and Lukis squirmed again, and to their surprise, their captors let them fall. They rose to their feet, ready to run or fight.
The cloaked trio fanned out, as if herding the siblings.
With their attention on the Breathers, Nora and Lukis back-stepped towards the tree. One of the Breathers raised its hands and knelt with its face to the ground. The other two mirrored the gesture.
A branch swung over Nora’s head and swatted Lukis to the ground.
She whirled to see another one whistling from the opposite direction. She dropped to the cobblestones, narrowly missing it as it moved to Lukis instead, coiling above him like a snake.
“No!” Nora pleaded in vain.
It snapped down, pinning Lukis against the cobblestones. He howled but his voice was lost in the storm and the deep humming of the tree.
The limb coiled around his torso and lifted him up. He made a feeble attempt to wriggle free, but it constrained him harder.
“Nora, I–” It plugged his mouth with black fruit and hoisted him to the trunk.
Nora sprinted after him as more branches barraged her path. She leapt to the side, barely dodging them. But she tripped and rolled, skinning her knee on the courtyard. Limbs brushed nearby, forcing her to ignore the pain as she purposely rolled faster. Her vision spun with stone and sky.
She stopped and scrambled to her feet, dizzy. A stout branch poised above her. It was too wide to outrun, but she tried anyway. Within a second it enveloped her, gouging her skin as it constrained her.
The tree whisked her to its trunk beside Lukis, who was still gripped by his branch. Black fruit juice littered his face. He was hardly recognizable.
Something in the trunk popped, and a fissure in its surface cracked open. It widened to reveal a salivating maw. A wave of steam rode on its breath and splattered their faces with black sap. From its dark depth came a bellow that rattled Nora’s spine.
The tree rammed Lukis into the opening. He yelped, but it was abruptly muffled after he fell headlong into the tree’s gullet.
Nora watched her brother’s waist, legs and feet disappear. A stupor drowned her senses. The branch brought her into the steaming hole, but she didn’t fight. She was done, numb.
The deeper she went, the warmer it became. Her ears filled with fluid, and the tree’s groaning rattled her brain. She convulsed when her mouth filled with liquid. Amidst her panic she recognized the taste–black sweat. Her skin went numb, she couldn’t breath, her heart pounded and her throat tightened. She writhed, but her body was wedged tight by the narrow throat.
She lost feeling in her legs, then her arms. Her mind was the last to go, lulled into darkness as everything else went lifeless.
* * * * * *
The storm had passed and the late afternoon sun was already tucked behind the wall. Ivan was hiding under the small bridge below the courtyard hill, gripping his axe with sweaty palms, ready to hack anything that popped into view.
He muttered Nora’s name and clenched the axe handle even harder. Nothing could erase his failure to protect her.
After he left Lukis and Nora in what he thought was the safety of the cellar, he realized his error and was forced to remain hidden for hours. There, wedged under the bridge, he overheard the Breathers patrolling above say something about ‘feeding it all the villagers.’
He assumed that’s why the village was so quiet now. For a long while there were screams and howling, but now there was just the occasional pattering of the Breathers’ inhuman feet on the bridge planks.
He vowed to make Lukis and Nora’s sacrifice worth it. He rolled his neck and limbs for action. His eyes bulged as he inched his way into the light. Biting his lip and trying to breathe steadily through his nose, he visualized the path to the tree.
Popping his head above the bridge, he scanned all directions. Nothing moved.
He trotted up through the red shrubs, traversing the hill. His boots and pants were immediately drenched, followed swiftly by his tunic sleeves.
At the courtyard’s edge, he slowly peered out of the brush.
The Black Tree seemed to twitch rhythmically, as if in a twisted dance. Its full belly was apparently calming it down. Black fruit riddled the ground.
His chest melted when he saw a horde of Breathers lounging around the trunk, devouring the fruit. Their loud gurgling and munching taunted him. He collapsed into the brush with defeat.
The feast lasted until nightfall. Ivan started to shiver with the arrival of dusk. After curling into a ball, he closed his eyes to sleep.
Then, sometime that night, steely hands ripped him from the grass and held him up. His feet dangled while his arms were suspended in the grip of two Breathers.
“Finally,” said another Breather standing in front of him. “The last morsel.”
“Why starve the tree?” Ivan challenged with as much bravado as possible.
The central Breather just grinned at him.
“The tree needs our filth,” Ivan said, losing confidence. “If you kill me, who will feed it and tend to it?”
“This village is spent, poisoned.” The Breather slid a finger down Ivan’s cheek. “All from a single speck of rot. We must move on to other orchards.”
Ivan fought despair, disguising it as bravery. “Then throw me in and be done with it.”
The Breathers hissed, as if chuckling.
“I think not.” The central Breather leaned close to Ivan and pulled back his hood. Its eel-like face grinned in the moonlight. Its breath was miasmic. “I have a better use for you.”
* * * * * *
The buds popped. Little eyes peered out, puzzled. The courtyard’s cobblestones were barely visible under a layer of prairie grass. The buds inflated until the souls nestled inside broke free from the membrane.
Once Nora’s head popped from her bud, the silence of the cocoon surrendered to the sounds of birds, wind and laughter. Her body expanded, rapidly outgrowing the membrane. When she thought she would fall to the ground, a slithery arm corded around her and gently brought her to the courtyard.
She inhaled and relished the foreign air. A number of people were gathering, faces revealing the same confusion she held. Everyone wore white tunics that seemed to be somehow woven from the tree’s bark itself.
Nora examined her own tunic, mystified at its material. She pulled back her sleeves and rubbed her arm, half-expecting it to run black. She’d never felt so clean.
Many of the villagers were captivated by the sun, for it had just risen, throwing orange and red streaks across the sky, and no one in Kosmos had ever seen such color.
A hesitant joy rose within Nora as she slowly looked up at the tree. Its bark was now white, and it was fully adorned with golden leaves. Its present glory had surpassed the hideous ambition of its former self, for its enormous branches now stretched beyond the limits of the courtyard.
Its limbs were riddled with people, incubating inside buds. They presently grew until the tree brought them to the ground. She recognized some of them, but most were strangers.
Nora surveyed the ever-growing crowd until she spotted Lukis. He stood at the edge of the courtyard, smiling at her.
She looked away.
“It’s better now,” said a woman’s voice beside her.
Nora bit her lip before turning to see the familiar faces of her mother and father. “Ma, Pa.” Her eyesight quivered. “What happened?”
“The tree took us all,” her father said. “Now this.”
Lukis approached. Nora looked down at the grass-covered cobblestones, scratching the back of her head. She saw Lukis’ feet, but she didn’t look up.
“Nora,” Lukis said.
She looked to the side, saying nothing.
“Nora, look,” Lukis said, “no more walls.” He stepped closer and placed a hand on her shoulder.
She clenched her teeth to finally look at her brother. Her tears blurred his face. She followed his finger to the edge of the village. In most places the village wall had crumbled, pulverized by giant green roots that emerged from the ground. Beyond the wall, a forest, whose autumn colors mirrored the hues of the morning sun, stretched towards a vast mountain range. She scanned every shade and color of the pigmented legion of trees, trying to believe they were real.
Nora surveyed the village next, noticing that the green roots had in fact devoured the whole village, sprouting up in many places to form miniature golden trees. And the pines that surrounded her family home were so tall that they towered over the crumbling wall.
She looked back at the tree, noticing a knot halfway up the trunk that radiated brighter than the rest. It was as if it was the source of the tree’s change.
“I wonder what happened to it,” she said.
Lukis shrugged. “Something changed. We changed. It doesn’t make sense.”
She kept staring at the bright knot. “Was that it’s…mouth?”
Lukis didn’t even look. “I don’t know.”
“I keep expecting it to move,” she said. “I feel like it’s still watching me.” She turned to the broken buildings and overgrown roads. “I wonder how long it’s been.” She watched the sun radiate through the broken walls. “Can we trust the outside? What about the Breathers?”
Lukis suddenly whirled around, frantically scanning the crowd. “Where is Ivan?”
“Did the tree take your memory? He abandoned us. He probably escaped.”
Lukis didn’t look convinced. He frowned as he scanned everywhere.
“If he’s still alive,” she added, “he’s an old man now, and we are all just a buried memory to him.”
Nora couldn’t keep herself from likewise looking through the crowd. She wanted to see Ivan’s sharp face and distinct black hair. But he was gone.
Aching from his glaring absence, she fixed her attention on the tree one final time. She tried to relish the fact that she had no more reason to fear.
Then something startled her. It appeared to be two blinking eyes in the trunk. She squinted and thought she saw a nose and mouth too. But she shook her head with an incredulous grin and turned away.
* * * * * *
But Ivan couldn’t turn away. He waited decades for this. His eyes were fixed on Nora, but his body was immovable. He blinked again, but she was already descending the steps.
The Breathers didn’t expect him to survive this long when they nailed him to the tree all those years ago. They didn’t understand the rules of death and life. And now Ivan’s sacrifice was producing fruit they never could have imagined.
Ivan opened his mouth to scream Nora’s name, or even whisper it, but nothing came out, and she was already with Lukis at the wall, mere specs in the distance.
Ivan tried desperately to move his limbs to get her attention one final time–so she could maybe free him from the bark’s embrace–but they disappeared in the rising sunlight.
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