Reinhardt
huh
Once, there was a great mystical tree. It towered among its wooden kin, boasting its vast size to the mountains. Its roots spread through the lands, its branches reached for the skies. The leaves on it were as green as a new sprout in spring, whilst its bark was tougher than man-refined steel. The people called it The Wish Giver - for it granted a person's truest wish for a price, through the means of falling fruits and flowers.
The mortals, overwhelmed by their desires, went to the tree to have their wishes granted. And the tree complied. For years, wishes of various mortals were given reality by the mystical tree.
But the more wishes were granted, the more the tree began to wither. Darkness crept unto its roots, delving into the tree's very insides, corrupting it slowly. As time passed, the tree began to change - its leaves turned red, its bark turned black. The roots began to erupt from the ground, and the branches arched downwards, as if trying to grab the mortals who dared approach it.
Still, wishes were granted by it.
But in a different manner.
For a different price.
It was not so soon that The Wish Giver was seen as a dark artifact - an object to bring destruction upon the world. People began to stop seeing it to have their wishes granted. They began to see it as a threat to be monitored.
It was foretold that it would bring the world to its very end - when the first corrupted leaf falls, the world's demise begins. The Wish Giver had become the World Ender.
Ezal stood before the defiled tree.
A man who had lost everything.
Exiled, he had no home, as well as honor. His family, along with his comrades had died as casualties of an old unrecorded war. He had no money, nor no possessions - other than the battle-worn blade that he held with such a strong grip.
The tree called unto him, seeking his desires. Asking for a wish that it could grant.
But Ezal did not answer. He had no answer. For all the years passed, he knew that nothing in the world could ever bring back what he once had. That there was nothing to be offered, but nothingness itself.
The tree felt challenged. A person with no desire. A person with no wish. Oh how long did it yearn for such a being to exist.
The last pure wish, the tree's, was given to him.
In that very moment, a brilliant light glowed from the center of the tree, attracting the attention of most of the people of the world.
Suddenly, hundreds began to emerge, watching the exchange between the man who had nothing, and the tree that could give anything. Ezal accepted the tree's wish without hesitation. After all, he had nothing. Nothing to lose, and nothing to gain.
And then, it finally came to realization - the prophecy.
A single red, dried leaf detached from one of the tree's branches. It fell to the ground, slowly under the mercy of the warm, gentle breeze of the winds. When it came to contact with the earth, a dark and heavy presence suddenly entered the atmosphere.
The people backed away, watching with caution from a distance. They readied their weapons, their spells, and whatever they can muster against the so-called world's end.
But Ezal, he did not falter. He stood firm and steady, not even moving an inch. He breathed deeply, as the leaf began to melt into a small red puddle - then reform into a beast - a red monstrous creature, that bore fangs and claws sharper than any blade crafted.
The beast charged towards him, full of hatred and blood lust. Ezal did not flinch. He quickly struck the beast down with a fell swing from his blade, making it disappear into tiny red dust, which were easily dispersed under the winds' mercy. More leaves began to fall, for every beast that Ezal struck. And these beasts grew stronger and stronger, making him work harder.
"What commendable valor!", a man's voice rang from afar.
"What honor he holds!", another echoed.
"An impeccable sense of duty!", one more said.
But a man, one who had known Ezal before, spoke. "A great sacrifice, with which we can give nothing, and take nothing."
The battle continued for hours, which turned to days, and to weeks.
Ezal fought without rest. He was wounded and tired, yet every swing he gave seemed to be stronger than the last.
The tree's leaves were running out.
The foreseen end of the world was being prevented by a single man, and yet no other person had the guts to help him out in any way they can - they simply watched from afar.
Alas, the final moment came.
The last leaf fell. The last beast rose.
And Ezal's final swing of his blade put the atrocious creature to rest.
But he was a mere mortal.
The wounds he carried, the energy he had spent.
All of the struggle he went through was no simple feat.
As the wind dispersed the remains of the last beast, the man with nothing fell to his knees.
His last breath had sent him to a sentimental state - his life flashed before his eyes.
He could see the first time he walked. His first meeting with his wife. His children being born. And his life turning the other way - his exile, the death of his family and friends.
He had done so much, and yet he had nothing. The tree's corruption was gone, thanks to him.
But the wish was not yet fulfilled.
"What do you wish?", the tree asked him.
"Nothing.", he replied with much difficulty.
"There must be something you desire. Every one has a desire.", the tree inquired.
"My desire..?", he said.
A single teardrop ran down his left cheek. "Yes...my desire."
"I see.", the tree said.
A strange glow came from the tree. A green leaf sprouted from its branch, and fell to Ezal's head.
Then a blinding light covered the world.
As soon as it faded, nothing was there. The people were gone, and so was Ezal.
Only the tree, with its old, grand state remained.
And before it, was a red leaf in the middle of the ground.
Everything was back to the way it was.
People continued on with their lives.
Many went to the tree for wishes to be granted. But they seem to did not know what had happened.
The prophecies of the world's end were never conceived.
Darkness never came upon the tree's roots.
And the desire of these mortals did not wear down, nor wither the tree.
All that had occurred was turned to nothing. No one remembers its occurrence.
Except the tree.
It knows of what had happened, and it had learned a lesson - if sacrifice is necessary, then it must be done.
Every so often, the leaves of the trees fall to the ground, leaving but one spot uncovered - the place where the red leaf was. People do not know why, but they sense the tree's feelings emanating from its very core.
And when such occurs, it is common knowledge to kneel and say.
"The tree, it weeps."
The mortals, overwhelmed by their desires, went to the tree to have their wishes granted. And the tree complied. For years, wishes of various mortals were given reality by the mystical tree.
But the more wishes were granted, the more the tree began to wither. Darkness crept unto its roots, delving into the tree's very insides, corrupting it slowly. As time passed, the tree began to change - its leaves turned red, its bark turned black. The roots began to erupt from the ground, and the branches arched downwards, as if trying to grab the mortals who dared approach it.
Still, wishes were granted by it.
But in a different manner.
For a different price.
It was not so soon that The Wish Giver was seen as a dark artifact - an object to bring destruction upon the world. People began to stop seeing it to have their wishes granted. They began to see it as a threat to be monitored.
It was foretold that it would bring the world to its very end - when the first corrupted leaf falls, the world's demise begins. The Wish Giver had become the World Ender.
Ezal stood before the defiled tree.
A man who had lost everything.
Exiled, he had no home, as well as honor. His family, along with his comrades had died as casualties of an old unrecorded war. He had no money, nor no possessions - other than the battle-worn blade that he held with such a strong grip.
The tree called unto him, seeking his desires. Asking for a wish that it could grant.
But Ezal did not answer. He had no answer. For all the years passed, he knew that nothing in the world could ever bring back what he once had. That there was nothing to be offered, but nothingness itself.
The tree felt challenged. A person with no desire. A person with no wish. Oh how long did it yearn for such a being to exist.
The last pure wish, the tree's, was given to him.
In that very moment, a brilliant light glowed from the center of the tree, attracting the attention of most of the people of the world.
Suddenly, hundreds began to emerge, watching the exchange between the man who had nothing, and the tree that could give anything. Ezal accepted the tree's wish without hesitation. After all, he had nothing. Nothing to lose, and nothing to gain.
And then, it finally came to realization - the prophecy.
A single red, dried leaf detached from one of the tree's branches. It fell to the ground, slowly under the mercy of the warm, gentle breeze of the winds. When it came to contact with the earth, a dark and heavy presence suddenly entered the atmosphere.
The people backed away, watching with caution from a distance. They readied their weapons, their spells, and whatever they can muster against the so-called world's end.
But Ezal, he did not falter. He stood firm and steady, not even moving an inch. He breathed deeply, as the leaf began to melt into a small red puddle - then reform into a beast - a red monstrous creature, that bore fangs and claws sharper than any blade crafted.
The beast charged towards him, full of hatred and blood lust. Ezal did not flinch. He quickly struck the beast down with a fell swing from his blade, making it disappear into tiny red dust, which were easily dispersed under the winds' mercy. More leaves began to fall, for every beast that Ezal struck. And these beasts grew stronger and stronger, making him work harder.
"What commendable valor!", a man's voice rang from afar.
"What honor he holds!", another echoed.
"An impeccable sense of duty!", one more said.
But a man, one who had known Ezal before, spoke. "A great sacrifice, with which we can give nothing, and take nothing."
The battle continued for hours, which turned to days, and to weeks.
Ezal fought without rest. He was wounded and tired, yet every swing he gave seemed to be stronger than the last.
The tree's leaves were running out.
The foreseen end of the world was being prevented by a single man, and yet no other person had the guts to help him out in any way they can - they simply watched from afar.
Alas, the final moment came.
The last leaf fell. The last beast rose.
And Ezal's final swing of his blade put the atrocious creature to rest.
But he was a mere mortal.
The wounds he carried, the energy he had spent.
All of the struggle he went through was no simple feat.
As the wind dispersed the remains of the last beast, the man with nothing fell to his knees.
His last breath had sent him to a sentimental state - his life flashed before his eyes.
He could see the first time he walked. His first meeting with his wife. His children being born. And his life turning the other way - his exile, the death of his family and friends.
He had done so much, and yet he had nothing. The tree's corruption was gone, thanks to him.
But the wish was not yet fulfilled.
"What do you wish?", the tree asked him.
"Nothing.", he replied with much difficulty.
"There must be something you desire. Every one has a desire.", the tree inquired.
"My desire..?", he said.
A single teardrop ran down his left cheek. "Yes...my desire."
"I see.", the tree said.
A strange glow came from the tree. A green leaf sprouted from its branch, and fell to Ezal's head.
Then a blinding light covered the world.
As soon as it faded, nothing was there. The people were gone, and so was Ezal.
Only the tree, with its old, grand state remained.
And before it, was a red leaf in the middle of the ground.
Everything was back to the way it was.
People continued on with their lives.
Many went to the tree for wishes to be granted. But they seem to did not know what had happened.
The prophecies of the world's end were never conceived.
Darkness never came upon the tree's roots.
And the desire of these mortals did not wear down, nor wither the tree.
All that had occurred was turned to nothing. No one remembers its occurrence.
Except the tree.
It knows of what had happened, and it had learned a lesson - if sacrifice is necessary, then it must be done.
Every so often, the leaves of the trees fall to the ground, leaving but one spot uncovered - the place where the red leaf was. People do not know why, but they sense the tree's feelings emanating from its very core.
And when such occurs, it is common knowledge to kneel and say.
"The tree, it weeps."
