Ooorah Smackdown Anthology

Tree Song

"Adnan, stop! What are you doing with that blade?" Grateful for the fading light that would mask their movements, Jigurte caught his long-time friend and pulled him down to a squat in the tall grass, scouting for any fallen leaves or bark to stay clear of.

The great Tree loomed over them. Its shadow made the twilight seem like full dark.

The pounding of his heart near-deafened Jigurte's ears from the terror of being so close to its trunk. He'd heard the tales of those who'd been lost to Song. Only his love for Adnan made him venture this close.

Jigurte hissed, "You'll be executed if someone sees you near here with a weapon - and me just for being with you!" Tree protocol had been drilled into every nestling's head from birth.

Adnan tried to pull away. "Let me go. I know how to save the Tribes."

"No!" Jigurte twisted the fabric of Adnan's sleeve in his hand. The bigger of the pair, he could overpower his friend and make a quick bind from one of the nearby stalks. Queasiness turned his stomach at the thought.

"My one and only friend, please listen," Adnan pleaded. "We must go back to the beginnings in order to move forward. What is our beginning, Jigurte? It is the sacred Tree. This Tree. The First. It is where we came from, and from where we all return when our ashes are scattered at its base to give it nourishment."

"You are talking fool's speech! Your head is rattled from Touching too many scrolls and too much Singing! Didn't I warn you?"

Adnan drew forth his battered old pack and extracted a tube. Popping the end, he reverently drew out a delicate, ancient sheaf and unrolled it. His eyes took on the far-away look of one who was Touching.

Jigurte felt his eyes bug out so far he thought they would pop from his head. "You removed a scroll from the Library?! Sacrilege! Now if they find us, they won't just kill us, but they won't scatter our ashes at the Tree!"

Laying a pleading hand on his friend's arm, Adnan implored, "Please see the evidence I have found. The elders are under the spell of Brigant. They won't listen to me. But this," he held out the document, inclining his head in a bow to it. "Once I found this, I knew the Truth had been hidden from us. This is the oldest scroll. Brigant wants to lead the Tribes in a direction that will bring him power, but ruin to the rest of us. The crops are failing, and this shows us how to revive them and save ourselves."

The parchment looked so old it had probably been separated from the Tree far longer than three of the combined ages of Jigurte and Adnan, not that that would have dulled the knowledge it retained of the Tree or any of the information Sung into it.

A strong wind blew and nearly toppled Jigurte from where he crouched. He ducked his head. "I'm afraid, Adnan. I've never handled a sheaf before. I'm not trained."

Adnan smiled slightly. "Training is just sorting the knowledge and slowing the Hearing. We are all capable of Touching. And Singing for that matter. The Elders have cut us off from our Wisdom. Your Heart will understand what it needs to. But right now, time is short, Jigurte. Touch and See, or leave me to my task."

For an aeons-long second, Jigurte paused. He'd been nestlings with Adnan. Knew him better than any other person and trusted him with his life. Others saw the man sitting opposite as one who'd 'fallen far from the Tree', but Jigurte knew it was just Adnan's deep Insight that scared them. Easier to push him out than take the time to understand him.

Brigant, the current leader of the Tribes, was blaming the crop failure on clinging to the old ways. Brigant was adamant his reform would work. More and more the old ways had been abandoned, but none of the changes had brought the promised great improvements. Instead, things got worse each year. The nestlings he himself cared for were at risk of starving during the next season.