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Rosephyne's Journal


Rosephyne's Journal

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1 entry this month

 

The Traitorous Maiden

19:31 Aug 09 2020
Times Read: 355


High in a tall old oak tree a hobble of habitation sits, intertwined with various leaves and branches to create a sustainable fortress of solitude. Well camouflaged and especially hidden from unwanted attention, a woman lives inside. Sheltered by the thickets of heavy overgrowth she sits quietly and contently in this calm prison.

Attentions searching through a small gap of sunlight, she strides closer to the opening with straining eyes. In preservation the woman raises a hand to hover over her eyes to help protect the bright contrast of the suns, painfully insisting to observe the commotion of the outside world. Attempting to adjust, she squints with insistence. There she watches from above to the varied calamity below, day after day, through any weather.

When night emerges she huddles herself deeper within the branches, completely adapted to the dark and surrounded in the highest of comforts. A low hum emerges from her throat from time to time, meditating on the solitude that is confused for a prison.

Abruptly, a violent vibration throws off her balance as the great tree shakes. Distressed the woman dares to look out into the night outside and a great disturbing light beams at the base of her tree. Fire. Large flames that flick embers violently into the night air. People have gathered around the trunk of the oak, violently swinging large blades against the bark, one rhythmic swing after the other. Ropes have been swung high into the strongest of branches, as the gathering below heaves.

Panicked and angry, she watches along in horror and desperately screams down to the crowd in begging abandonment for the cease of action. Unheard and unacknowledged, the loudest sound of splintering wood is accompanied by cheers. The ropes are yanked as hard as they are to manage in a triumphant cry.

The creaking of the wood brings the woman to brace for impact as the tree reluctantly falls to the ground.

Dust has risen from the loosened dirt and heavy impact. Cheers are continued yet quickly hushed as a single voice raises their hand to quiet them. The leader of the congregation steps carefully towards the fallen tree canopy and with a few swings of their blade, an opening reveals the woman, huddled on the ground and clutching the branches with all of her might. Smiling they cheer at the sight of her and she brushes open her eyes to greet a hand bent for her to take and pull her from the wreckage.

Upon standing out of the hobble with the cushion of fallen leaves beneath her toes, the leader once again raises their hand and proclaims her freedom. As she dumbfoundedly watches the glee of those around her a furious anger erupts.

Her voice booms, "Why!? Why did you tear down my tree, my home! Why did you tear me down?"

Stunned and unsure of her rage, the leader attempts to calm her with reassurance. "My fair lady, we rescued you from your prison!"

Outraged she looks to the faces around her as they assure her of what was said. Rescued? The woman angrily explains that this tree was no prison but her sanctuary. A place of great value now taken away by ignorance and brute force. Shaking she looks at the dying splinters that were once the strongest of limbs and the best of comforts.

She sighs, "I would rather have lived forever alone in that tree, surrounded by nothing than my thoughts than to have come down. You never thought of my perspective of living? It never occurred to you that my happiness was high in those brambles than brought down here. Instead you assumed I would be grateful, but instead I am met with the incapacity of understanding outside of your assumption."

A few members of the group yelled at the woman and named her ungrateful and an irritant that only should have been left alone. Others were internally happy that they had helped this woman, even if against her will. The leader did not show any visual emotional response to her personal accusation and smiled. "Merry be my lady." As he bowed to bid her farewell.

With that conclusion, those that hadn't already left with furrowed brows began to disperse back into the forest clearing with their torches in hand. The woman stood reassured of her own understanding of this clumsy excuse of good heroics.

----------

From this day on, she made well to hide herself further away from human wanderings. The more she encountered human activity the more she shunned it all away. Shunning pieces of herself as well as she was also human. A traitor to her own species. Built hatred for those that have trespassed before and a warning to those who had yet to come.

So again she sits dissecting the distrust in her heart, aware that the developing haven she keeps is one that only feeds such distaste. As those humans were to blame for unjustly cutting down her tree, she was just as to blame for the hatred she held inside her heart that hid her away. Away Forever.


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