Growing up, the kids all used to tell tales of an old hermit that lived in the woods. They would spend hours in search of his house, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fabled old man of the woods. Sometimes, they would see a candle flickering from inside, shadows cast onto the curtains by a figure moving inside.
It was rarer still to ever meet him.
I Once did.
You see, he didn’t like to have company or talk. He disliked the bustle of the town nearby, with nosy neighbors asking too many questions and prying into his business. So he hid away and would avoid conversation.
So how did I get so lucky?
Well, legend has it you have to bring an offering to him. Coins, a new home for his snail, or even supplies to fix his home. You set these out, and then just sit in silence. You may wait minutes, or hours, or even days, but eventually, as long as you are silent, he will come.
During your vigil, the weather often stays nice and the animals leave you be. Even the bugs don’t bug you.
So I sat in silence. I listened to the sound of the forest, the pulse it had, and its beauty. I saw the potential of the land, and what it could grow into.
After 3 days he came and sat by me. I didn’t dare speak, for I knew that would only drive him away. Instead, I continued to listen. I slid the coins in his direction and he started to speak.
“A long time ago, I sought adventure and danger. I was connected to the forest, the secrets held within, and the animals that called it home. I moved as one with them, driving out the darkness in hopes of stopping the corruption.”
He falls silent again and wait a bit, listening to the rhythm of the forest around me before sliding the snail shell over to him. He continued “My deeds earned recognition, and I soon found myself in service to the king. I would protect his forests, patrolling for corrupted beasts or restoring areas milled for resources. I was in service to the crown for several human lifetimes. I watched the title pass from parent to child, and with each passing, a darkness crept in.”
His pause had weight to it this time as if he was sad or burdened by the thought. I let us sit there at that moment, allowing that weight to pass to me, giving him room to breathe to continue his story. “That darkness took its toll upon the land. It was during one of my routine patrols that I stumbled into the feywild. There, I found a glen, where I rested. It only felt like minutes had passed. I felt a rumble through the ground, and footsteps grew closer. I hid behind a tree and waited, but the sound had stopped. It was at that very moment I realized the tree I hid behind was actually a leg.
The creature stood as high as the Keep at the castle, its eyes turned upon me, considering me for what felt like forever. It finally spoke to me ‘Guardian. You watch over us, protect our sleeping kin. If you swear loyalty to me, I will grant you the power to protect the land you love. You need not forget your previous skills, for they are what brought you here in the first place.’ The creature then bent low and I thought it might snap, but a branch extended toward me, a single twig held out for me. When I grabbed it, the twig turned into a sword in my hands. ‘Carry my sword and you will have the ability to wield my power. When you speak, you will speak for me and my kin. You are an extension of us, and we an extension of you. Do not forget that power goes both ways. Go back. Teach them to be better, to protect the wilds.’
His face sank then as if remembering something painful. The silence this time stretched for several hours, watching the sky turn colors and stars come out. This time, he reached for my final offering, some nails to help repair his home.
“The land I came back to was changed. No more forests, no wild animals, no sprawling green. A long road was cut through the first I once called home dotted with travelers, none of whom were dressed in any familiar fashion. I had only been gone for an hour, maybe 2 total, how had all of this changed so much?”
“Horrified and confused, I made my way to the castle, only to be stopped by guards donning the tabard of an unknown regency. I forced my way to the throne room and found a face unfamiliar in all but the eyes. The one who sat upon the throne knew of my name, that there were stories told of me. I had been gone for over a century.”
He paused again, but only for a brief moment. That moment still felt heavy upon my mind, and never lifted from it as he continued. “I was angry. Confused. I knew not what had happened. I was only gone for a few hours, yet a century passed by. Everything I cared about was dust, buried under the roadways and housing. I had nothing. I think that is why I did what I did. In my fury, I drew the twig from my pouch and it turned into a blade, vines twisting around it. I plunged the blade into the king's throat, and not even a gargle came from his lips. Before any of the guards could even come, I took his body and placed it in the central courtyard. I shouted to the gods and the spirits and the patrons and challenged them. I threatened that if they ever took what was mine, they would end the same. As the king's blood seeped into the ground, a flurry of wild growth sprung out. Vines, trees, and flowers sprawled, overtaking the castle and houses. Everything that had changed while I was gone transformed into a dense forest. Wildlife started to call out, defiant and deadly. Quickly, those that had made their homes on my land quickly left, leaving me to my own devices. And that is where we are now. You are looking at a land untouched by man for centuries.”
He stands then, and the enormity of his power resonates around me. “So tell me, why have you actually come here?”
My voice is shaky as I answer “I care. I care about this forest, these animals. I care about your story. And I want to help. But I have a question. What is your name?”
A smile creeps on his lips “Well, new guardian. You may call me Lorax. I speak for the trees.”
