The Elderroot Tree | Dryad Girl

There’s a forest you've never heard of—because none are left to tell its tale. It's in the land of Sylwen where magic still dwelt, and the creatures that lived there were varied and plentiful. There was a golden glow upon bark, tree, and leaf that only grew near the center of the forest until the days grew dark. At the heart of the forest, the roots of trees grew deeper than elsewhere in the forest, and their leaves stretched higher. However, they stretched not for love of dirt or sky. It was at the command of the Elderroot Tree.

Time and memory cannot recount the growth of the Elderroot Tree, which is ancient and powerful, its magic long protecting the forest and those within its boundary. Under its watchful and benevolent gaze, the deer and the squirrel, birds, mice, and rabbits talked openly. Predators like the fox and the wolf would visit, but they came only for fellowship and never dared to eat during their sojourn.

The Sylwen Forest was a haven for all good and homely creatures. However, none found as much favor as the Dryads that lived near the roots of the Elderroot Tree and amongst its sentinels that grew taller all around it, protecting the Dryad village.

In another memory not long past, a change began to eat at the forest. It started with the drought. One summer, no rain came, and as the days peaked and then grew shorter, the skies remained clear, and no rain came through the autumn. The leaves fell not in their decorative dance during the changing of the seasons, but in a withered final breath, cracking even while they clung to twig and limb. Yet even as the world outside the forest sizzled and turned brown, the forest looked inward. The trees interwove their roots and supported each other, tying themselves ever inward toward the center. The creatures moved closer to the village of the Dryads, and the predators came no more. The outskirts of the forest dried, yet at the heart of the forest, the trees remained green and only dulled and faded with further distance from the center.

It was thanks to the Elderroot Tree, who dug deep and reached untamed waters, far underground, where the unknown lurks. Deep green and healthy, the forest remained, but its once vibrant golden aura faded as it struggled, but survive it did. Yet, when the rains returned, the glow did not; instead, the foliage was veiled as though the hurt of the drought left it in a perpetual shadow. That is when it began.

First, better soil, then water from distant springs, but none of these nutrients would suffice. The trees, bound together with the Elderroot, reached across the forest to take hold of its inhabitants. Little by little, the creatures that once called the Sylwen Forest home became dispersed, and their numbers dwindled. The Dryads never saw what caused them to leave, but they were soon left alone, the only beings that walked freely, but not free.

The Dryads did their best to appease the Elderroot's needs, scouring the forest for the most nutrient-dense dirt and the freshest springs, but this was not enough. They tried to look outside the forest but found that a hedge had grown around the borders, and they could not escape. Then sickness fell on the Dryads, and the sick disappeared one by one when no one watched. The rest understood what must be done. Made of bark and breath, their blood, their memories, their bark was the sustenance the Elderroot required, so the ritual began.

One by one, all healthy Dryads gave to the tree, and little by little, they began to conform to the will of the trees. For years this continued, a continual gloom hanging over the otherwise beautiful forest, the Dryads faithfully sacrificing of themselves to protect the Elderroot tree, who protected them, kept them safe, but kept them nonetheless. Yet, one girl was different, no bark on her skin, and a will untainted, and that's why she survived.

The girl hid when the times of sacrifice came, but the Elderroot soon knew there was one amongst its children, its pets, that had not obeyed. It couldn't feel them all. Without warning, without knowledge, and to the shock and horror of the girl, her kin turned, a madness in their eyes, first on their homes, then on each other. With fire and malice, they destroyed each other as the trees looked on with menacing pleasure. All save the girl.

She had given no sacrifice, so no tie bound her to the trees. She fled the village, but the trees saw this and watched her. When she finally returned to stand amongst the wreckage, looking on with horror and the magical spring of tears that flowed from her eyes, the Elderroot saw her, and his anger was kindled. Out of the darkness, green glowing dots like eyes dotted the trees around the girl, and then one pair of them moved. A twisted, terrible form emerged, trees that could move as she. She ran.

Through, under, and around the roots of trees she had once loved, now terrified even to touch them. Thunder rolled overhead as she ducked in and out of hollowed trees long fallen, lightning crashing out, striking a nearby tree. Fire sprang up, lighting the woods. She looked back in the direction she came, to the Elderroot and her village, then toward the nearest edge of the forest, blockaded by the wild hedge. Then her eyes locked onto the fire burning, the red-orange glow reflecting off of the tears streaming down her face, but it was quickly replaced by anger. She clenched her teeth and ran for the burning tree. Her pursuer spotted her, but as she came to the fire, it backed off as a lone wolf meeting a bear, teeth bared but outmatched.

The girl took a burning branch in her hand and looked towards both directions; first the Elderroot tree that had corrupted the forest, and then the hedge that provided escape. A long rolling rumble shivered the trees around her as lightning split the sky. The Elderroot in the distance was barely visible, a deep green glow emitting from its place, and the silhouette of the monster tree that chased her stood near her path home. In the other direction, fewer trees had survived, and the way was clear to the border. The air hung thick with moisture, and the rain would extinguish her only protection, salvation, or revenge at any moment.

The girl grips the branch tightly in her hands, then sprints away from the monster, away from the Elderroot Tree, away from her village. She fled with her life in her hands, a blazing branch, and her silver hair, leafy dress, and tears streaming behind her. The monster did not give chase. The next moments flashed by as the barrier burst into flames, the braided branches recoiling like fingers before the Dryad girl. She escaped.

The fire and smoke over Sylwen that night were unfazed even by the falling rain. Even the living trees burned as though they were more than just bark and branch, and the fire spread quickly through the intertwined roots. From the heart of the forest, a low roar could be heard for many days before all grew quiet.

The forest was ash, and the little Dryad girl was long gone, the last of her kind and the last remnant of the Sylwen Forest.

Want the writing prompt that inspired this? Check out the short here: The Elderroot Tree | Dryad Girl https://youtube.com/shorts/Lrwr6mLq7Tw