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A Story No One Else Knows

The Festival of Samhain known also as All Hallows, The Feast of Apples and The Feast of the Dead. This was the ending and the beginning of the Cycle of the Year. The days were getting shorter and the nights longer. Thiswais the time in the Year when, in times long past and worlds long forgotten, it was the belief that the Sun-God died. But also there was the promise of Rebirth, for the Mother-Goddess was pregnant with the Sun-Child. Hecate traditionally stood over Samhain as the Keeper of the Cauldron of Life, Death, and Rebirth. Hecate will guide the Old Sun-God to the Underworld to await Rebirth. The Mother-Goddess would sleep during this time to prepare for the Sun Child's Birth. This was a time to reflect, a time to rest, a time to embrace the silence of the Earth and contemplate the Mysteries of Death.

It was during one such festival in Arden, so the story goes, many years ago and while the newly appointed Warden was still learning his way around that the legend started. Julian, needing a break from the revelry and noise wandered away from the crowds and meandered through the forest, just learning the night sounds of Arden. He eventually came to a grove, the light of the full moon streaming down onto one of the more ancient of the Fire Oaks.

When he was younger, or so I've been told, Julian loved to climb through the trees, much to the chagrin of his mother who thought the activity one not befitting a Prince. But on this night he did climb up into the sprawling arms of the great oak and made himself comfortable to listen to the wind and watch the path of the moon as it made it's course across the open space of the clearing. He had heard the stories of the haunted wood, but did not fear them. In fact, he hoped one day to meet one of these ghostly guardians himself and to hear the voices on the wind..

"Tell me a story," he murmured to the rising wind as he laid his head back against the aged trunk and wrapped his cloak about him. "Tell me a story no one else knows."

In the distance, thunder boomed, and the wind picked up, blowing through the leaves of the trees in a symphony of whispers. His words seemed to catch on the rushing air, sounding all the world as if they joined the murmurs of the leaves, running through the branches like water in a stream. Julian sighed...if only the trees could talk back to him.

"An unusual request," a deep, melodious voice suddenly said from behind him. Jumping to his feet, his hand quick to the sword, Julian prepared himself for danger. From behind the tree came a dignified looking fellow, an older gentleman, dressed in fine green clothe, his long beard white and gray and brown.

"What would you do with a story no one else knows?" he asked, "And if no one else knows it, how could it be told to thee? Perhaps you should tell a story that no one else knows, and perhaps then I will listen to it."

Young Julian eyed him a moment before settling back down but still watching him. Being new to Arden, it wasn't like he knew everyone in the forest, so the fact he was unfamiliar was not unreasonable. "I did not know anyone else was about," he said a touch embarrassed now for talking to the woods.

"I'm afraid I don't know any stories that no one else knows. I suppose I was looking for secrets. About this place. These trees, especially this one, must have seen so much of this place when it was new"

The older gentleman chuckled softly. His hand slowly moved to touch the tree, caressing it gently, like one would a child that was sleeping.

"Indeed," he said wistfully, "They have seen and felt much...though I do not know if this one was ever new. Sometimes, when things get older, they forget about the time that they were young, as if it never existed. Perhaps it didn't, at that..." He smiled again, soft and warm.

"There's no need to be embarrassed about talking to the trees," he continued, as if he reached directly in to the young man’s mind and plucked at his thoughts, "And I am sure you know a lot more than you think you do. How many ri...I mean, years, have you seen?"

"Just thirty," he answered. Julian swung his legs around so he could face him more fully. "My name is Julian, by the way."

"Julian," he chuckled, "How fitting a name."

"Not very old at all," Julian continued, looking through the leafy canopy to the sky. "I have brothers ever so much older. Now they have stories." A dark thought crossed the corner of his mind and he bansihed it. No, he would not think of them tonight.

With a long, sweeping motion, the older man gestured towards the forest. "Of all these trees, sometimes it is the youngest and smallest that has the most interesting tales. The great oak, towering in the sky, often reached there by growing in a safe spot, secluded, protected, but kept from the world and bereft of its pleasures. But the scraggly cedar, who grows on the path and faces many dangers, can tell tales that would amaze even the old oak, for it has seen much in its few years."

"I am afraid my life has really not been that exciting," he shrugged, his attention back fully on the man after it's brief wandering. "Not compared to some." He looked around the grove and sighed contentedly. "But I think it's about to be."

"Do you so yearn for adventure, then, my young friend?" he asked, "Do you long to be the cedar, and not the oak?"

He turned back and laughed, a light and carefree sound, for Julian had not yet been made harsh at that age. "I think sometimes when the oak is young it might just be a touch envious of the cedar."

"If you're asking if I would be happier somewhere else getting into the thick of things, no, I think not. I don't think I would like that as a steady diet. I will be happy out here, in Arden and it's important, what I have been asked to do. What Father has entrusted me with."

"But is it what you want to do?" he asked, his mood changing more solemn, "That is, I think, even more important. Is your heart in the duty you have been given? Would you give your life for so paltry a thing as a few trees?"

"This is so much more than just a few trees," Julian protested as he then gestured with his arm towards the buck and doe that had wandered into the grove on the far side and were currently staring at him to see if he was a threat.

Julian continued passionately. "It's a world unto itself. It's the quality of life that those that live here enjoy, and I don't mean just the two-legged residents. There is nowhere in Amber that you can appreciate the moon and the sky like you can out here. The quiet. The circle of life. Life. No one takes anything for granted here. The forest doesn't owe them. I like the way Man and Nature coexist out here." He ran a hand over the gnarled branch beside him and smile. "And there is nothing paltry about these trees. When I was a child and we would ride through here on our way out into Shadow, I was convinced that, if I could only climb one high enough, I could reach out and touch the face the moon."

Swickt!

With a deadly whoosh, an arrow suddenly embedded itself in the doe opposite the two. The buck leapt away as the doe fell to the ground, moaning in pain for but a moment, then going silent. The old man startled, and glanced about quickly. A raucous laughter could be heard from deeper in the woods. The young Warden stiffened and his eyes followed the old man's.

"Damned!" a voice shouted above the laughter.

"Told you it was too much to the right," a second voice jibed, "Now you've scared away the prize!"

"We may still catch him," the first voice said angrily, "Leave that one to the wolves, and hurry! He's not too far, methinks."

The old man's eyes filled with sorrow, and he bowed his head, shaking it solemnly.

Julian dropped to the ground. During the festivals hunting was forbidden because of the amount of alcohol flowing, as we all know. Drunken archers were a danger to everyone. "Poachers.." he snarled. "No. Poachers don't leave a kill."

"Worse," he decided. "Excuse me. No one hunts for the thrill of the kill in my woods. I may not catch them but I intended to try"

The old man nodded, and leaned against the tree, as if he himself were wounded.

The Warden paused. "Are you alright? I will be back," he added apologetically but his job was kicking in and Julian turned and headed into the trees, to the direction the arrow had come. By moonlight the men would be easier to track than the buck. He was going to have to do something about alerts and messengers; his mind was already churning with changes to implement.

The old man nodded briefly, and waved him on.

Crashing and tripping their way through the forest, the two men were not hard to follow. Occasional shouts, and the whiz of arrows in flight made it all the easier for Julian to track them. He tracked them down with ease, finally coming closer as they reach a clearing. Before he could reach them, there was another sound of an arrow, followed by a triumphant cheer.

"Got him!" shouted the first voice in glee.

"Easy as could be!" the second chimed in.

"Cripes," Julian heard the first breathed loudly, "I've never seen one of its kind."

"A white stag," the second whistled, "A bad omen, that one is."

If they only knew, Julian thought as he silently drew his own arrow and nocked his bow. He soundlessly aimed at the one nearest the stag. "Your troubles are just starting," his voice echoed in the clearing as he let fly and had another drawn before the string has stopped singing.

The one nearest the stag fell with a satisfactory crash, and as Julian drew his next arrow, the second man dove for cover in the brush. His own arrow flew meekly past, obviously fired blindly, and skittered off in to the woods. The fallen man cried out in fear and pain, as Julian prepared to loose another arrow.

"As you have the hunters been so now you hunted be," he said, quoting from a text older than the grove he stood in as he walked into the clearing, drawing his bow and aiming for where the second man disappeared. "Move, and know real pain," he said coldly to the fallen man without looking at him

"You have until the count of two to come out. One...."

The man thrashed out of the brush, his arms in the air. Though it was dark, Julian recognized him as Baron Ronwyn, one of the lesser nobles of Amber, and a member of the House of Lords. His face was frozen with fear, and he did not seem to recognize the dark haired Prince yet.

He gestured him forward with his bow, arrow still trained on him. "Over there. Hands behind your head. It is illegal to hunt during the Festivals and it is an offense punishable by however I see fit for killing a White Stag."

Baron Ronwyn put his hands behind his head, and stumbled over, falling to his knees before Julian. He was muttering something vaguely obscene under his breath, and his face was locked in a grimace of fear and anger. The wounded man, whom Julian then recognized as Lord Winfel of the same house, was shaking, and obviously losing much blood.

From the very air the Warden called a rope to his hands and tied Ronwyn's hands together none to gently and then looped the rope around his neck in such a way that any struggling to free himself will result in him choking himself. Clever lad. Then he was tethered to a tree branch overhead in the Fire Oak in the clearing. Once he was convinced he could not flee, he moved over to check on the fallen stag. He glared at Winfel.

"You have violated the Laws of the Forest. I could slit your throats right now and would be well within my rights as Warden."

He let silence build with their fear before continuing. "But I will not. Instead I will leave you for the forest to judge. Should you survive the night, you will be escorted to the King for his judgment."

The men remained silent as Julian approached the White Stag, still laying on the ground, an arrow protruding from its flank. He approached gently, seeing that it is still alive, but as he got closer, the stag sprang to its feet, and the arrow melted from its side, much to his surprise and amazement, for he had not yet experienced the magic of Arden. A hand fell lightly on his shoulder, and as he whipped around, he saw the old man from before.

"Your justness is proven," he said with a slight smile, and with a nod, the white stag leapt away, "As is your worth as Warden of these Woods." With a gesture, the two men vanished as well.

"I am sorry to have had to test you, but it was necessary to see your deeds in action," he explained, "The men were never real...they were pulled from your mind."

The old man chuckled, and his eyes twinkle and dance in the fading moonlight.

"Dawn approaches, and I must leave," he said softly, "But know this Lord Julian...from now on, when you talk to the trees...they will listen...and respond."

With that, he turned to walk back in to the forest.

"Wait," Julian gathered his wits and followed after him.

"I don't....Who are you?"

The old man smiled gently, and looked at him in the eyes.

"Haven't you figured that out yet?" he said, his voice almost a whisper.

Julian frowned slightly, thoughtfully, as he replayed everything in his mind and then made the total leap away from logic that the answer required and his eyes widened in understanding as he looked up at him again.

"But... I don't understand how...."

He bowed slightly, his eyes still centered on his, his face fixed with a mysterious smile.

"Don't try to understand everything, young seedling. You will have much time to learn all there is to know about these woods...and I will always be here to help you. Go, now. Celebrate Samhain...these old oaks long to see the young cedar enjoy his life. Go, and know that we are always here."

As the sun rose, he began to fade, right before Julian's eyes.

"And now," he speaks, as his voice faded to an echo, "You have a story no one else knows."