The wizard of the seas made two mistakes after entering the green woods.
The second, when Eldra waited to greet his arrival, was nastily hissing, “OUT of my way old crone,” words dripping venom, foul poison that the green wood had not witnessed for ages. Eldra, the elven protector of those woods, had merely smiled.
He’d stood, dismissing her, assessing the land with burning, feral eyes, as if the world he saw was his to claim. Stagnant, yellow-gray power dripped from his polluted soul. Eldra saw it, the way it infected the man beneath, the warping of his mind, and saw too the plants at his feet recoil.
His words, while true, she was old AND crone, had been flung at her with intent to hurt, a landslide of power meant to overwhelm and crush. As her green eyes sparkled with mischief, she’d merely laughed. Her joy, her power, was echoed by the rising buzz of insects, birds, and life that surrounded her, life she was a part of, life she didn’t own or force but coexisted with. Life that hardly needed calling to assist.
Like tossing water at rain, the useless words of course had no ill effect on Eldra, but the wizard felt the effort of his intentions immediately threefold returned.
All forward momentum halted as he grew suddenly weary under the calming gaze of the quiet elven being. He felt the presence of unseen things lurking under the ferns, whispering their dismay, their worry pressed against him, an invisible wall he could not break through, and the desire to do so seemed to fall away.
His FIRST mistake, Eldra thought, was bringing a sword as a weapon into the Green Wood, and not as a tool. The sword had whimpered apologies, metal singing embarrassment and regret, and longings for the time when it was yet unworked ore, cradled by distant mountains.
Eldra grinned now, recalling the moment, as she returned to the heart of the forests where the others waited, hungry for gossip. She leapt easily over a fallen log, velvet cape fluttering behind her, spongey moss soft under her hand, basket of essential treasures clacking together merrily, the sword at her hip, HER sword now. A lovely bit of blade she’d already used to harvest Starred Pine bark for afternoon tea. It purred with contentment at the first taste of wood.
The wizard had left the Green Wood much quicker than he’d entered, the false bravado built on his lies swept away on fir-scented breezes with a casual wave of Eldra’s hand, the trees humming in concert to the moment. Eldra’s purple-clad feet now carried her deeper amongst the trees, silent and sure.
She didn’t call upon that sort of magic often, but the forest had been in agreement. The wizard’s negativity that chained his mind fell off like ashes, absorbed into the ground and immediately cleansed, small glowing white flowers popping out of the soil in a circle around the wizard, who wasn’t what he was moments before.
She’d felt a little sorry for the poor creature, human or whatever, bewildered and made anew, shivering and alone with his true self, all evil banished. He’d apologized and left, awakened, dazzled, determined to untie the knots of worry and sorrow he’d woven through his life, his own powers now glowing faintly pink with happy promise around him.
He’d waved from the ship, and Eldra waved back, sword slicing the air, shining. The wind rushed from the forest and filled the sails, a gentle nudge in the right direction, away from Eldra and her home. The world settled back into the normal rhythms of the shadowy woodland once more.
Maybe none of it had been a mistake, she mused, but a meant-to-be. The sword hummed at her hip in agreement, finally home.
