Bristlecone the Enduring

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Bristlecone the Enduring

Post by Wraithwriter »

Once I was nothing more than a tree, passing the seasons aware only of roots and limbs. Then it happened.

Wildfire swept across the sea of tall dry grass. As the heat of the flames came near my cones opened disbursing their seeds into the winds created by the speeding reddish orange tongues. For me there was no escape, rooted to the dry rocky soil as I was.

In silent agony I endured as flames licked up my trunk. Like tiny candles my needles came alight, intensifying and prolonging my torture. It was a lance of pure light and power that announced both my salvation and demise.

Lightning pierced my trunk causing a minor split to open that exposed my inner heart to the blazing inferno. If I'd been possessed of a voice as I was now, my screams would have echoed across the arid High Steppes. However, the lighting acted as herald for the deluge born of the infernos unforgiving heat. As the peal of thunder faded the sky opened up and merciful rain fell, but too late for me.

The wildfire gone, I stood alone charred and leafless. For seasons after I tried to grow more limbs and push out new needles, but my efforts only prolonged the inevitable. Finally one cold night the chill seeped too deep into my heart, killing off the last connection to my roots. Yet even though my worldly vessel was dead my spirit endured.

Here I must pause to explain a little known aspect of trees. Trees though we do posse a soul by virtue of our longevity, it does not flee. We are of nature and to nature we return, even our souls. For some this process takes longer than others, such was the the fate I endured.

For a thousand Winters the elements weathered away my outer layers till my visage was like the mind of a mad sculptor. Then one bitterly cold morning the Light pierced my heart filling me with Awakened Life. Warmth filled my being and purpose fused my thoughts.

I am Bristlecone the Enduring.

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