Revised Myristicae Story

*This is the revised part of the Myristicae story that I've been working on recently. I would like to continue this story and see how it turns out.*

The dark green potion tasted rich and earthy. It was hard to swallow as it ran down my throat. I choked, and the scraggly old tree-woman patted me on the back.

“Don’t fight it, dearie. You’ll only make it worse,” she said. Her body had become gnarled to the point that her tree features were obscured by her human ones. All of her leaves had fallen off, and her trunk leaned precariously to one side.

With the last shallow, I tried not to think about her life as I took her life force.

Then it was done. I would change now. She had given me her place in the tribe of the tree people.

Inside the sacred cave of the Myristicae, I would complete my transformation, just like our ancestors.

I felt my blood thinning in my veins, and my strength ebbed with it. I looked down at my arm as my pale skin began to darken and grow coarse. The hairs fused together to form rough patterns of mahogany brown bark. A leaf stem shot out of my neck, growing quickly. Ivy curled around my shoulders.

The old tree woman bent forward, clutching her chest in pain. She called out weakly, and Linden, the Magistratus, or second in command of the Myristicae, hurried in to help her stand. As he held her gently, I noticed the strong sinews in his dark arms. His amber yellow eyes looked at me knowingly.

I had not known her, and I felt out of place at the scene of her death. So I moved outside the cave.

In the dark forest air, my long brown hair waved gently in the breeze. I felt with my fingers that sections of my hair were pulled back from my face with gentle green tendrils, and a few autumn red and yellow leaves were caught playfully in my hair.

I was a tree.

I suddenly laughed, realizing that I had finally grown tall enough to be a model--just like I’d always wanted. I realized I must be at least eight feet tall now. Too bad models with bark for skin weren’t in high demand.

I tested out my newly elongated, coiled-root feet. My steps were slow and tedious now, but with some effort, I was able to move deeper into the forest.

 I imagined how penguins must feel with their long flippers, but at least I didn’t have to waddle.

I could no longer feel the October breeze because my thick bark protected me from the weather.

A shiver ran through me. The forest was beginning to feel like home. I knew the others were there, listening.

“Well, how do I look?” I asked.

Without a sound, a pair of warm brown eyes rustled to life in front of me.

“Wonderful, Hazel. Absolutely wonderful.” Ebony moved toward me. As the Premier of the tribe, her delicate tiara was almost hidden in the tangles of her black hair.

My eyes adjusted to the darkness until I could see the others standing in a ring around me. They all held their branches in the same way, the right raised with the left gently wrapped around the other. Ebony moved to do the same as Linden appeared. He shared a look with Ebony and then joined the circle, following suit.

“Welcome, Hazel. You are one of us now. You are part of the Myristicae,” Ebony said in a warm voice

And then in unison, the circle of trees said reverently, “Your roots run through our Earth.”

“And yours through mine,” I replied.

“We respect your bravery, Hazel. Your task was not an easy one,” Ebony said, her twig-like lips breaking into a smile.

I attempted to return her smile, but my lips felt taut and restrained, almost like I’d had Botox.

“And now, you’ll live like us,” Ebony explained. “The Myristicae are the guardians of the forest, and there must always be twelve of us. As you know, Saffron, a Myristicae elder, has passed on to the eternal resting place. You will now take her place, Hazel. There must be twelve to keep unwanted wanderers out of the town and reinforce the residents’ desire to stay here.”

I considered her statement quickly, trying to understand.

“So no one can leave Pinetop?”

“Oh, people can leave. But first we have to allow them to,” she said.

“And what if you don’t let them?”

“Then they can’t leave.”

“But why?”

“Hazel,” she began condescendingly, “the Myristicae are the guardians of the forest.”

“You said that,” I interjected.

She acted like she hadn’t heard me and continued.

“We were appointed by our ancestors to protect the minds of the people of Pinetop. If they were to leave and tell all of their friends about the walking, talking trees back home, we wouldn’t be safe here. Scientists would come to experiment on us.”

I’d never thought about it like that. The whole time I’d been alive, trees had always talked. In all my eighteen years, it had never occurred to me that trees didn’t talk in other parts of the country. That fact was a bit jarring. Now that I was a talking tree, I could never leave Pinetop, South Dakota, either. I could never see Paris, New York City, or Prague. I would only ever see Pinetop. I began to morn silently for that loss of discovery and adventure.

“Do you understand?” Ebony coaxed me back to reality.

“But why did you have to choose me?”

“Hazel, you are special. Your strong moral character shines through, and we knew your loyalty to the town’s people would make you a wonderful member. It must be you, Hazel. You were chosen by Saffron to replace her. That decision must not be disrespected. Now, if you have nothing further, follow me.”

I nodded solemnly.

The circle of trees filed into a line behind Ebony, and I took my place at the end. We began to stump forward – as only trees can do – back to the entrance of the cave, past groves of inanimate trees.

Finally, we came to a tall gray cave. Ebony parted a curtain of lichen with her left branch and motioned us through. Inside, twelve flat boulders circled a dark wooden bowl on a pedestal made from tree branches. The branches grew right from the packed earth of the cave floor.

We each rustled to one of the boulders, and Ebony took her place next to the pedestal.

“This is the sacred place where we come to renew our energy. This is the place where our ancestors first changed from humans into the Myristicae,” Ebony said as she gestured around at the cave walls. “Our people made an agreement with this sacred place to protect the people of Pinetop from outsiders who do not understand our ways. In exchange, this sacred place would renew our people spiritually, mentally, and physically.”

She cupped her finger branches and scooped up some of the water in the bowl on the pedestal. Then, methodically, she let the water trickle down each of our heads, and she lingered on me.

The cool water ran down the back of my neck, fanning out over my shoulders, embracing me. I could feel its nourishment diffuse into my skin. I was one of them now. I would protect my people, and the people of Pinetop, with my life. The other trees would teach me the history, culture, and wisdom necessary to be a part of this tribe, and when they decide that I’m well-educated, I will assume my place as a protector of the town’s innocence. That is what my ancestors promised, and now I had joined them as a Myristicae.