The Watching Tree (closed, PM if you feel you absolutely must join)

[galadra]

thump....pat pat thump... pat pat....

Gala forced herself to push her arm forward, feebly striking the ground with her staff, and completing the thought by moving her two feet forward, one at a time. All around her, all she could see was forest, the different shades and hues of brown surrounded her horizontally, and above the blue sky was clouded by overcast leaves, allowing only a sense of "mood lighting" and ambiance than real definitive sight. The firm, dusty ground lent no help to the effort--each step she took sent waves of impact through her calves to her knees.

thump....pat pat thump... pat pat....

"C'mon.... keep it up.... just keep going.... "

thump....pat pat thump... pat pat....

She finally stopped and sank to the ground, using her staff as a means to guide her: as she slid down to the earth, so did her hand on her staff. She sighed, but the sigh was swallowed up by the whole of the forest. Somewhere off in the distance she heard a bird trill it's good-night song. Gala turned her emerald eyes up to the sky, mirroring green with green and saw that the sun had indeed set. Perhaps this was why she hadn't seen any life lurking about in the shadows. Her vision had simply adjusted for the darkness, and everything seemed just as it had when she first entered Concordia's great forest. She arced her back and slowly stretched her arms out over her head, letting out a ferocious yawn. She set her staff in her lap, and gazed dreamily at it.

Maybe it was silly, she reasoned. This whole undertaking she was on. She traced her fingers along the swirls in her staff, until they came to the hidden writing amongst the swirls.

"may this faithful stick forever guide you,
may the earth and sky always house you,
and in return let you climb to watch over the world,
so that pendant and orb may meet again...

She sighed dejectedly. The Watching Tree was something of childhood fairy tales, but she was so sure that that was where it was at--what else could the poem be talking about, with climbing and watching and the world? According to the tale, the Watching Tree was the first tree that sprouted all life on the world, and watched over it, to make sure everyone led peaceful happy lives. Young saplings were told that they would one day be as big as the Watching Tree, which was said to span so tall one could not measure it. Children were told that if they weren't good, the Watching Tree would know, and would make their first trees grow poorly. (In Gala's village it was tradition that every year, the children get together and plant a tree to tend over at the edges of the forest.) The Watching Tree was the benevolent power behind all children's tales, and she was so sure that if She came up so often in fairy tales, that there must be some truth to it.

Which was why she was here. She climbed to the top of the edge of every forest she passed by and gazed over the tops of the trees, looking for the tallest tree. Which was why she was here--as she thought she had perhaps seen the Watching Tree in the distance. She laid on the ground, and cuddled with her staff.

"You need a name...."

She kissed the moonstone orb atop her staff, and drifted off to sleep, her hair casting a blue wash upon the forest around her.

[Atzar]

The mage’s mind roamed everywhere as he walked through the depths of Concordia.

He had been traveling a lot, as of late. It was strange; no more than a few months ago, he had never ventured further than the foot of the mountain on which Tel’Han stood. There just wasn’t any valid reason to explore. So what if he could see new things? He saw new things everyday; such was the nature of magic. So what if he could meet new friends? He had all the friends he could want right there in Tel’Han.

But recently, that mentality had changed. Ever since he had encountered the diary of Ceran Tumultos, wanderlust had stirred within him. First, he had ventured down into the caves beneath his own village. That had been a considerable journey in its own right. His discovery of the last pages of Ceran’s diary was awe-inspiring at the least, and the little dragon had proven to be a good friend.

He mind wandered briefly back to the dragon. The mage hoped that it was faring well on its own. Even though they had only known each other for a few weeks, he already felt close to the creature.

After the experience in the cave, however, he had traveled to Radasanth. He tried his hand in the infamous Citadel, but he was overpowered by a wicked woman by the name of Witchblade. Atzar shuddered, a chilling flooding his spine at the memory; the pain that she had brought down on him was not something he’d soon forget.

Eventually, his mind caught up with him in reality. The mage’s morphing blue eyes analyzed their surroundings, noticing the sunlight as it rippled brilliantly through the swaying foliage, noticing the leaves as they fluttered in the soothing breeze. His ears picked up the innocent twitting of small birds, along with the occasional lonely call of a larger hawk or eagle as it hunted. Great, elderly trees passed by on left and right as he traveled with no apparent destination, moving through the forest at a leisurely pace. Yes. Concordia was undeniably a peaceful, relaxing environment.

Gradually, another sound revealed itself to his senses. It sounded like… breathing. Curiosity piqued, Atzar stared hard into the forest in front of him. Was it his imagination, or did it seem to take on a bluish glow?

Step after cautious step, the mage continued. After only a few seconds, he spotted the sleeping figure. It was a girl. Elven, Atzar guessed on first sight. The tall, pale figure lay on the ground at the base of a tree, lanky limbs wrapped around a strange-looking staff. What caught his eye the most, however, was her hair. Shining blue, it was responsible for the light Atzar had seen before.

The hair held Atzar’s eyes for a long moment. He stared at the radiant locks, not really realizing that the sleeping elf would probably much rather be left alone.

Nobody likes to be stared at by a stranger, especially not while sleeping. And especially not while in the depths of a vast unknown forest.