Flavor

Approximate time 1000 years ago?

I wake up.

You’d think that I’d have gotten used to the sensation by now, but it still feels odd. I’d say that this is my 8th time bound. Conservative estimate, of course; it is so hard to keep track of my first few times anymore.

This time I am some sort of flower. A rose, it seems. The awakening leaves me just as depressed as usual, though. Being bound usually only cause pain to me. Not that I’d object to the Green Men’s requests when they need me; they are a bit lacking in the intelligence area, but their cause is worthy. However, I do not sense them anywhere around the binding ritual. The ritual is so different this time. I have retained my past vessels’ memories already. It usually takes a long while. Curious. Perhaps it is the ritual, or perhaps the sheer amount of bindings I have done before?

The lack of Green Men and the differences in the ritual give me a nagging suspicion that I know what is going on. It is one of the Druids - one of those mortals - who has bound me to this vessel. I have sensed this from others of my kind; some mortals were taught the secrets of nature magic for the purpose of protecting nature where the Green Men faltered, or lacked in reach or number. There is indeed a mortal next to me. It introduces herself as Esme, and asks for my name. Silly mortals with their names. I have no name, nor do I need one. She says she is a human. I admit to some curiosity that the mortal races are not as animalistic anymore. This differs from the last time I encountered one. It is possible that this was millennia ago - time has less meaning when you are an immortal nature spirit.

The sun sets soon, so we go over to her camp to rest for the night. I ask her so many questions that neither of us manages to get any sleep that night. Finally I ask her why she awakened me. Her answer surprises me; the awakening is a part of a trial - a ritualistic step - of ascending within her druidic tribe. They do this for the explicit purpose of getting to talk to a Leshy. I guess I am a Leshy.

While she does not know how I have retained my memories, she revels in the details I can provide of my previous lives. She names me Awett Vida, meaning knower of lives. It is not my name but she can call me that if it helps her. Just as she loves listening to my knowledge, I too want to hear all about mortal societies. I decide that she must teach me things before we go to have her complete her trial. And I am voracious. She teaches me languages, physics, etiquette, magic, and so many other topics. I take it in with such joy. Never have I felt this good about being in a vessel. After a while she ways it is time for us to leave. I disagree, there is so much more to learn. And the more I ask, the more she gets annoyed. I can understand that this annoyance is my doing and that I should stop, and give in to her wishes. But how can I, now when I finally am getting to understand the world? There is so much more to the world than I ever knew. So I demand more knowledge. Just a few more days, I request. She gives it, begrudgingly, as she cannot leave without me.

Some days later she screams at me as I still will not leave. She screams about her trial and about getting back to her tribe. She will not be allowed back without me, and I have kept refusing to come with her while she still has more to tell me. Her emotions are new to me, but they are strong, and somehow I understand them. So I yield and agree to follow her to her tribe to complete her trial. We walk for a quite some time. In silence at first. I have kept her away for many weeks, and the road will take a long time to walk so she moves with determination. One month and three days it should take, by her reckoning. It takes a few days for her to start talking to me again. She talks about her family: her daughter, her husband, her parents. Talking about them makes her happy so I let her talk about them a lot.

Then we get to the tribe. I smell decay. I see carrion birds feasting on what remains of her tribe. An animal attack, perhaps, or other mortals? Esme screams and runs to a ruined tent. No one is there. She searches the next, and the next. There she stops. I just stand there and look. I have never seen death like this before. After some time Esme comes out of the tent, carrying a wrapped bundle. She looks at me. Her face looks different. I cannot place her emotion. Sadness, or anger? She says that this is my fault; that I kept her from protecting her home. She turns her back to me and says to run before she changes her mind. I do not know what she means. I try to approach her; I just want to comfort her. As I near her she turns back to me, and now I see the emotion. It is hatred. She utters two words to me. Too late. She moves her hands in the air. This is the magic given to the mortals by the Green Men. The magic that is meant to protect. It feels rough when it comes from her. Not protective at all. I turn to run as my petals turn brown and shrivel. It hurts. But it is not just the pain from her magic, it is also the pain of her action. I thought she was my friend.

She was not.

I wither.