[TWWM] Sail's Origin Story

"Old Orchard Tavern"

The words echoed in the stump a bit, he wasn't sure what they meant, but something about the man's voice brought him hope. That hope, he found, was right to be had, as the orchard blossomed into life, so too did the land around them, and the tired old house below the hill. 

"Come on Beth, take a break a sec and come up here and look at it!"

A heavyset woman trundled up the hill awkwardly, hiking layers of skirts up off the ground. "Oh Con, get your head out of the clouds, you know the walls aren't gonna wash themselves, stop distracting me or we'll never get done." 

"Oh pooh" he said, shushing her and offering his hand. 

She accepted it and hefted herself up next to him at the top of the hill. "Come on now, what do you want you old coot?"
"Oh shush for a sec and LOOK." Connor gestured out across the landscape with his arm. "Look how pretty it is, smell that air!" he inhaled deeply, his wide chest swelling with the crisp clear spring air.
Resigning herself to a moment of rest, despite her argument, the woman relaxed her shoulders and inhaled. The air seemed so very clear, and something smelled sweet. She opened her eyes again, glancing around at the blooming apple trees with new appreciation. Their soft white blossoms hung around them like clouds. She sighed, glancing around for somewhere to rest.
"Here" Connor said, guiding her towards the old flat stump at the very top of the hill.
"Oh this is a nice stump, look how wide! I wonder how old that tree was." she remarked as she nestled down.
"O're a hundred years for sure," he said, "The guy I bought the place from said some German folks planted them all over a hundred years ago, raised them from sprouts. Said someone chopped most of the trees off when the family had to sell. Something about health issues."
"Oh, thats a real shame." She said, placing a hand against the top of the stump. Her hand felt rough and strong, but also gentle. The stump stirred. Drawing his spirit upwards a bit, he cautiously felt the pair's emotions. They seemed hopeful, bright... their energy reminded him of his old family. He missed them dearly. It had been so very long since he'd felt the sun against his leaves. He was desperate to hope again...to feel the joy that came from providing someone apples. Could he ever do that again? As much as he could, he wished so badly to offer the man an apple.
"I bet it was a beautiful tree." the woman remarked, patting the top of the stump gently as she glanced around. "None of the other stumps are anywhere near as large as this one."
"Aye, I really wish we could of seen it." Connor sighed, and reached a hand out to the woman again. "Well Beth, you wanna get back to work now?"
"You know I do!" she said, gripping his hand tightly and lifting herself off the stump. The tree's spirit winced as her warmth pulled away. He remembered the warmth of the old man. If he could, he would of cried. It had been so long. How many years? Does a tree even get to understand time? Will I be trapped, yearning for the past forever? He pulled his spirit deep again, retreating into the dark earth, coiling himself into the roots underground, roots that wrapped carefully and gently around the man's grave. For all the hope that Connor and Beth felt, the tree felt absolutely lost. For the first time, he felt actual despair. 

--

The next weeks were a whirl of emotions, both for the poor orchard stump, and for the homestead below. The man, who he'd learned over time was named Connor Ross O'Donnell, was converting the old house into a tavern. Workers came and went, machines roared and wooden planks were sawed and painted. The sound of the machines caused the stump to quake. Finally it seemed done, and then the others came. The tavern glowed with warm light through the night. Music and dancing could be heard. Laughter could be heard ringing out through the night, and it seemed always to be overflowing with excitement. Occasionally, Connor would visit the hill, bushel-baskets under his arms, he'd trudge up and down the hill, whistling or singing and picking apples. He didn't know quite how to care for an orchard, but he tried. Over the weeks, he cleared some of the dead brush, and hauled in fresh dirt. He trimmed branches that didn't yield well, and used stilts to prop up sagging limbs. The stump felt his boots tamping against the ground, heard his song, but he was reluctant to hope again. It felt too far away. It was cold and damp underground, but he seemed to have lost the will to reach upwards to feel the sun anymore. It was just too exhausting. He shrunk into the roots and slept. 

--

Nine years passed overnight for the stump. Unable to rouse himself anymore, he'd slept. Slept through winters and springs, slept through hundreds of Connor's songs. He just felt done. It was time to rest. 

Today seemed different though...

Something had roused his energies once more. He felt the urge to drift upwards, to coil his spirit gently in the rings of the stump face. To feel the sun once more. 

He cautiously left the safety of his roots and slipped upwards. Reaching out, he examined the air. It was spring again, a blanket of white petals coated the grass around him, like warm snow.
Resting at the surface, he basked in the sun, unaware as a stump is, he believed perhaps he was happy again? He wasn't sure though. As he looked to the trees surrounding him, they looked taller than last time. They towered around him, boasting with their strong limbs and bright blossoms.
It is unfair. He was the strongest among them, hard work and the love of his family had prompted him to excel, and he had been a tower atop the hill... remembering his stunted state, he felt grief and pain ache throughout him once more. He turned, intending to retreat once more into the dirt. Something stopped him though. Suddenly he felt ... calm...
Peering around, he saw that a soft blue fog had enveloped the area, something waded through it, long legs picking their way effortlessly up the hill. What...what was this?

The feeling of calming restfulness swept over the stump, he felt warm, and safe. His grief at his state, and his fears for the future seemed to evaporate in the face of this creature. It waded towards him through the mist, glancing around, seeming to search for something... 

--

The sunlight streamed down through the branches, Ayla inhaled the fresh air deeply, she loved this season almost as much as fall. She was taking advantage of the beautiful weather to explore a bit, and had found an old tavern. Large trees and forest had seemed to grown up around the old building, but the laughter and cheers from within weren't ancient at all. She smiled inwardly, humans were a curious bunch, but she was glad they were happy. She directed her attention towards the orchard, trailing towards it gracefully. Branches fanned out above her head, wisteria blossoms hanging in beautiful clusters around her face. Her wings were tucked against her sides, and her tail hung limp, slipping silently through the grass as she went. The apple blossoms were glorious, the smell, the sight. She felt such peace here.
Releasing her enchantment, it surged out from her chest and billowed onto the ground, pooling and rolling through the trees, creating an even more peaceful aura. As she neared the top of the hill however, she felt a disturbance in the area. A stabbing pang of pain, grief... something was hurting...lost. Instantly she sought to find them, to see if she could, in some way, aid them. 

She tiptoed up the hill, peering into the branches. A hurt bird perhaps? Her nose dipped towards the ground, maybe a trapped squirrel? What was...

Suddenly she found herself directly on top of the pain. It was dulled now, seemingly softened by her enchantment, but still there. A deep throbbing want. A yearning. 

Was it...the stump? She peered at the old tree stump, it was very old, and very wide. It seemed to have a massive spirit, especially for a tree. Glancing around, she felt the other trees in the area. They did not feel like much, some life, some desire to grow, but that was all. This one though... her nose swung back towards the stump. This one... it was definitely something interesting. Ayla felt a familiar energy build, it was a powerful aura that seemed to seep into her mind whenever she encountered a lost spirit. 

She squinted at the stump, projecting her thoughts towards it. 

"Let me try to help you."