Druids, Taniwah and Gaia
The last thing Mark saw was 8:01pm, then his phone died. The impenetrable darkness passed time in heartbeats and breaths. The chill in the concrete wormed it’s way through him, until he felt numb.
With just enough space to stand without hitting his head, he stretched his arms to either side. Each palm flattened on the walls. Six paces gave him the length. In the dark he envisioned a rectangle. A tomb. A crypt. He veered his mind from those thoughts as hot tears of fear and frustration rolled down his cheeks. Sinking to the floor he hugged his knees and buried his face in his arms. Despair crawled into his gut, hope slid down his cheeks, while his heart beat time.
Peter’s mouth gaped as he stepped from the familiar park near his home, into the sunny glade carpeted with lush grass. In the center, a modest stone fountain bubbled noisily while four stately trees stood sentinel. Peter recognized the oak, the Sequoia and the Maple. but he had never before seen a slender smooth, white barked tree with bright golden leaves.
A breeze he could not feel rustled through the branches.
“Peter? Is that you?” said a gruff voice behind him.
He spun around to face a diminutive bearded man with bushy eyebrows, pointed ears and a robe that blended with the surroundings. On his head he wore a cap that resembled the top of an acorn.
“I-I yes, I’m Peter. Who are you?”
“ I am your brother, Walter. You’ll remember soon enough.” he patted Peter’s arm, then gestured to a small sapling. “Your tree languishes.”
“My tree? I’ve been here before?” None of it was familiar, including the waist high sapling.
“Peter, you are eldest of Gaia’s children. All of us are reborn to the mortal world, to better understand them. We must find our way back here to remember who we are. I fear the world is in trouble, you have returned much earlier than expected.”
“Us? Where is this place?” asked Peter.
“Peter, welcome back!” The lilting voice belonged to the woman emerging from the white tree. Taller than he, she wore a shimmering, white robe. Fuzzy caterpillar-like decorations hung in her green gold hair. Her dark eyes and lith movements unsettled him as she drew near and embraced him.
Face flushed, Peter awkwardly extricated himself, from the embrace. “Uh. Thanks.” he said, “Who are you?”
She laughed softly, an echo of wind through leaves. “Peter you know me!”
A third person stumped into the clearing. He towered over all of them, long limbed and sturdy. His dour face, and sharp green eyes, at odds with the wide grin and unruly red hair. “Peter, my brother! I have missed you!” The man clapped a meaty hand on Peter’s back, nearly pushing him to the ground.
The woman frowned, “Walter! Has he not slaked his thirst at the fountain?”
“Not yet,” said Walter.
The big man boomed, “Then it must be done. Come, my brother. You must drink from the fountain.”
Peter stumbled after the big man. “I don’t understand. What should I do about Mark?” He asked, remembering why he was there in the first place.
Walter said, “Your knowledge will return when you partake from the fountain.”
The big man stepped aside and Peter approached the pleasantly burbling fountain. The stone had crumbled on one side allowing the water to run in a rivulet to the ground where it pooled in a large stone basin, before overflowing on the other side and joining a small stream running through the glade. He knelt at the edge of the basin and gazed into the pool. A sense of infinity rippled through him drawing him closer. “Oh,” was all he said before falling into the pool.
Sweet water flowed around him and through him. Sweetness mixed with acrid bitterness, flowed over his senses. Flavors and sensations came and went too quick to savor. Slowly he realized, it was memory not flavor enveloping him. He remembered the evolution of the world, each revolution the advancement of Gaia shaping the earth. He had been there. He knew who he was. His roots wrapped about the core. His branches spread across the globe. He was Yggdrasil. He was Gaia’s life force. Gaias first born. If he failed Earth would end.
Peter’s laughter boomed across the glade as rose from the pool, a tall ebon skinned man, exuding life and joy. Sun reflected off the bare skin of his head, his broad toothy smile and emerald green eyes radiated fresh vibrant life. “My brother’s and sisters! Come to me. I have much to say before I return to the human world.”
The glade erupted in joyous laughter. Creatures of every kind filled the glade with their raucous joy. Yggdrasil had returned.
Peter held up his hands for quiet. “Our world is in danger. Humans, filled with hubris are out of control. They poison the waters and fell the trees. They leach the nutrients from the earth and pollute the skies. Our mother Gaia and the Creator have gathered the gods, the Taniwah (guardians) and the deities of the world. My fellow druids, we are charged with protecting the world from further damage. I am yet strong and young within my bole. You will derive your strength from me. The destruction of our world happens on the surface. If it continues, the destruction will leach toward the core, then I too will suffer and die. The world dies with me!”
The glade fell silent from Peter’s somber declaration. Someone in the back shouted, “Destroy the humans!” All manner of grunts and growls and screeches assented.
“NO!” boomed Peter. “That is not the way. Humans are among the youngest on this planet. They are but infants to many of us. They must learn. We are their teachers.” He beckoned to Walter, the oak druid, Ávores the aspen druid and Wawona, the Sequoia druid. Now that he had his memory back he knew who they were. Fēng Shù, the Maple druid, had not returned from her human birth. Her tree remained strong, which meant she was alive. She would have to be found.
“Druids must tend to the human world, protect the groves, protect the habitats and do not harm humans. Seek to redirect them. Teach and enlighten them. They are children of the creator, as are we all. I charge Walter, Ávores and Wawona to protect the glade. This is our birthplace and from here we will rebuild, should the humans destroy the surface. Now, I must return to my human self and continue my work there. Many of us reside on the surface as humans. We must awaken our brethren. When you locate one of us, bring them here to the fountain.” Peter looked around for a Yefet. Seeing one he charged it with a message for Fēng Shù, to return.
The glade erupted in cheers and other noises as creatures left to do as bid. Peter turned to Walter, “I need to save the human boy Mark, from Hephrix. She has imprisoned him in hopes of trading him for one of Yetarīki Mihuru’s book. She believes there are secrets in the book. Perhaps there are and perhaps there are none, but in her hands nothing good will come of it. My human sister seeks the book. She is not aware of who she is yet. Once she holds the book, she will know.”
“What of the boy? Mark? Who is he?,” asked Ávores.
Walter snorted, “Indeed. Peter, who is the boy?”
“I don’t know,” said Peter. “Gaia has not revealed his identity to me.
Wawona boomed, “He languishes in Hephrix prison, though he’s been in there only an hour surface time.”
Peter laid a gentle hand on Wawona’s meaty shoulder, “Some humans do not handle enclosed spaces well. It would seem Mark is one of them. It is time for me to return to the surface. Keep the glade safe. Walter will communicate with me via the oak near my bedroom.”
In the place where the sapling once grew rose a mighty bole. Though the glade had seemed small the girth of the tree did not crowd the others. It was as if it had always been there. Truthfully it had. As Peter’s memory returned, so did his perception of the world. He was life incarnate. He was the tree and the tree him. As long as Earth existed, so would Yggdrasil. Branches of the tree covered the sky with brilliant white radiance. Deep underground the roots enveloped the core of the world. Peter waved to his siblings, the faded into the tree.
***
Mark looked up from his huddled position. Something had changed, though he could not discern what it was. He remained blind in the dark, or was he? He closed his eyes briefly and reopened them. There, on the far wall, a tiny mote of light danced. He stood up, but could not see where it came from. Slowly it grew. Drawn to it he stretched out his hand to find the concrete wall was gone. Rough wood, like bark, met his touch. Now he could smell the loam of a deep forest. Soon he could see the tree trunk. He looked down and realized he stood on a wide tree limb. Stars twinkled overhead, through the leafy branches. Below was obscured by mist. He looked around in wonder, where was he now?
“Mark,” said the boy walking toward him. “I’m Peter, Mackenzie’s brother. You will find yourself in bed at home. I will let MacKenzie know you are safe. When you wake in the morning, this will all seem a dream.” Peter smiled and began to fade into the mist.
“But! I don’t want to forget!” cried Mark.
