Villainous

A Story by Grahm Thoman

a short story that i typed up during my creative writting class.

Villainous

Orange sliced through the air, down and down until it further reached the floor. Then yellow and red, drifting through the air; comparable to any graceful bird. He watched them closely, following them with such intensity, what was he thinking? No one knew, for he hadn’t spoken in years. Left to one's own thoughts seems like a terrible thing, yet he was still sharp as any other. Once again more leaves fell but flowing wind started to twist them around, spiraling about this young man. In the next blink of an eye he was no longer there. People began to panic their voices all rendering together.

“WHERE’D HE GO!?”

“Mommy that boy…”

“It’s impossible”

“What? ……no can’t be”

All left to wonder the same as the other, where had he disappeared. He left with the leaves no doubt, following the wind to where he needed to be.

A park across the city, where a team of police held off a crowd of “tree huggers”, not able to notice there was one already flying over them with the autumn breeze. He landed softly next to the crew of yellow capped workers getting ready to destroy five ancient trees. They were supposedly infested with insects. They couldn’t understand that’s how it was meant to be for one to live off the other.

He slowly formed himself out of floating leaves, moving upwards against the natural occurring gravity as if it meant nothing to him and his leaves. Forming the foot and curve of his elongated legs. By the time anyone had noticed he was already stretching the arch of his feline like back. Forming strong shoulders that then swept into his long neck. The final few leaves continued to slide along his now formed jaw and up into his face revealing his light lilac eyes. So pure and faint his face only showed grief as he strode his legs towards the circle of trees. Placing a finger singly on the heart of the first tree.

The ground shook and cracked around the tree in an intricate pattern of what seemed to be Celtic knots, the tree roots. Thrashing around until each end met their other; forming a perfect and beautiful circle around the tree. Light began to shine though the air and the tree became whole, strong and its fey spirit awoke it began building its protection, Vine by vine grew out of the tree creating walls and new life.

His skin aglow with what seemed to resemble moonlight, he drifted as if floating in air, to the second tree. He placed another finger onto this tree and it began to do similar to the last but only this tree did not grow vines but flowers. They burst from everywhere. Ground, building and even the pond over 100 feet away was infested with new life and beauty. The crew taken aback by this amazing sight. They sat down breathless and in tears, for even owning a thought of being close to such magic

Walking along around to the other three trees running his forefinger along the next two and they came to life. Leaves fell to the floor and started forming elegant creatures. The majestic birds from the floating islands above the line of any human sight. The feline prowlers from the hillside of faces, and even the waterless ocean creatures from the lagoons of crystal, all strong and clearly fey. The fourth tree had started to form water around it. Creating a mirror like pond; figures broke the surface immerging into this world from theirs. Wings and beautiful skin, all different and unique. One crewman recalls a woman with the skin of a leopard, another with fins of a fish. As enchantingly special and alike the mystic creatures strong with their bright auras.

The last tree; He stopped in awe and looked for what may have been hours or days into the soul, heart, and inner beauty of the tree and embraced it. It shifted and died slowly shrinking into its self; he cried. As he was ready to say his last goodbye it was in its final breath; dried bark breaking into fragments of light, the pure essence of all life. The light solidified and formed arms, legs, hands and a new being.

She was here with him and they began their construction of life, their place now the park. It continued growing over the world showing magic and new meaning.

They took over, most thought of them with love and passion but the few who hadn’t. They had hate for he took what wasn’t his to take, and made it his. He was the partner to Mother Nature he was the earth itself alongside her. But no one would know of such a thing.

For to those with hate in their hearts, he was just a dictator.

If only they could see the light…

Grahm Thoman