Memories (Of Dreams and Demons)

Power of the Ash Tree

'May the ones that come after us understand.'

Draft. Massive draft.

Chi falls to his knees, his body sapped of all strength. 

The once feral sounds of the wild chase vanish, and the howls that once filled the night are now silenced. The only sound that remains is the soft melodic beat of drums, carried across the wind like a haunting chant, an ancient hymn that reaches deep into my soul.

And I look up, gazing upon the ancient tree standing tall before me. Its branches seem to sway and twist in a dance that defies the laws of nature, as if it is beckoning to us with a hypnotic rhythm.

The tree is not like any other I have ever seen. It looks like a tree, but the feeling that emanates from it is indescribable. It is as if I am standing in the presence of a deity, a powerful force that has existed for eons and will continue to exist long after I leave this place.

As I gaze at the tree, I feel waves of euphoria wash over me, filling me with a strange and unfamiliar energy. It is as if the tree is whispering to me, speaking to me in a language that I cannot understand but can feel deep in my bones. It seems to pulse with a power that I can feel in his very core. It is a power that is both terrifying and exhilarating.

In the presence of the tree, I feel small and insignificant, as if I am nothing more than a tiny speck in the vastness of the universe. But at the same time, I feel a sense of purpose and belonging return alongside the strength I but a moment ago had lost, as if I am a part of something much greater than himself.

As I stare, the tree seems to move and sway with the beat of the drum, its branches twisting and turning in an otherworldly dance. It is a dance that defies all logic and reason, a dance that speaks of ancient rituals and forgotten traditions.

And as the tree dances, I can feels myself being drawn into its orbit, its ancient dance, pulled closer and closer to the source of its power. Otherworldly in its height, its trunk thick and twisted, and its branches reaching towards the sky. The tree seemed to pulse with an energy that the children could feel in their bones. They approached the tree, their hearts pounding with a mixture of fear and awe. It towered above us, its trunk thick and twisted, its branches reaching up towards the sky like a thousand twisted fingers. The tree seemed to pulse with an energy that we could feel in our very bones, and we approached it with both fear and awe.

As we stood before the tree, it spoke to us, its voice a deep and ancient rumble that seemed to come from the very heart of the earth. "I am Yggdrasil," it said, simply, and asked, "why.. are you here?"

We were transfixed by its words, our bodies filled with a sense of power and vitality that we had never felt before. It was a feeling that was both exhilarating and terrifying, a sense that we had stumbled upon something that was beyond our understanding.

"We heal physical wounds," the tree said, "But we also heal wounds of the mind and soul. We offer solace to those who are lost, and strength to those who are weak. We are the gateway to the power that exists beyond the boundaries of this world."

And as we touched the rough bark of the tree, we felt a rush of energy flow through our bodies, a sensation that was both beautiful and terrifying. It was as if we had been reborn, given a new lease on life and a new understanding of the world around us.

But as we stood before the Ash Tree, we realized that we had been changed forever. We had been given a glimpse of a world that existed beyond our own, a world of magic and wonder and darkness. And we knew that we could never go back to our old lives, that we could never forget the power and the magic that we had discovered in that dark and surreal forest.