I turned to warn Ryder, but then I felt calmness fall over the glade. I looked at Danu as she watched something across the water as it approached. I gasped as the White Stag—the real one—walked out from the lush forest and moved to where we stood. He was a symbol for the world of Faery, and he spoke for the world in times of great need, or at least that is what my Fae history teachers had said.
It was a massive deer, but where a regular stag normally had horns or antlers; he had elaborate branches of wood that seemed to have been interlinked into an intricate design of Celtic knots. His hooves clicked against the rocks; it was the only sound that could be heard.
I looked to where he had left the forest, and watched in shock as hundreds of tiny Bramble Pixies followed in his wake. Other animals, as well as more Pixies, followed behind them. I stood side by side with Danu. I felt her fingers as she slipped them around mine in a show of solidarity.
“I’ve only seen this magnificent creature once before, and that was when I created this world,” Danu whispered for my ears alone. “He draws his power from the Leyline under the Tree,” she continued. “He knows what you are.”
“How is that even possible? No one else knows, except for those who needed to.”
“I feel you.” A voice of deep timbre filled my mind. “I felt your birth, and you are tied to us. To these lands,” the voice said, and as I watched, the White Stag approached.
“It’s you,” I whispered to the Stag.
“It is I, my Goddess,” he continued to speak in my mind.
Okay, let’s be honest. Carrying on a conversation with a Stag was weird.
“You’re of the land, and we, your people, have come to pay our respects. We have power to feed the Goddess, and the bond we share called us to you.”
I was at a loss for words, unable to think beyond the fact that I hadn’t even known the White Stag actually existed.
“The Elder Tree’s bark will melt the ice, my Goddess, and you can heal the Tree,” he said softly as he bent his head with his massive horns scraping the ground. “That is why they’ve come.”
I looked around at the trees, and smiled, and then frowned. “Won’t it hurt them?”
I watched as one of the massive trees moved and the entire ground shook with the sheer force of it. I swallowed as the beautiful ancient tree reached for me with its branches, and lifted me up swiftly.
I saw the men preparing to move forward as Ryder stepped closer. “Stop them, Ryder. It’s friend, not foe.”
“Friend,” the tree said loudly, its voice like a severe wind rattling through the leaves.
“Friend,” I whispered as I tried to balance on the harsh branch. “Thank you for coming,” I said and exhaled a shallow breath.
“My bark will melt the frost and ice. You can use it; it would be an honor if you did so. Elder Trees have the ability to banish or break spells. But it is only through death that the spell can be broken and rebirth can happen,” he said through the same mental path as the Stag had.
“But it will hurt you,” I said, knowing I would risk anything to save my children. I just wanted to make sure it was aware of the danger it faced.
“It will not hurt me,” he said softly. “I will die for you, and for the children you must save and the others who will come after them. It is the way of life, and I am honored to make the sacrifice for you. I only ask that you allow my children into the safety of your gardens. That you protect them, and plant a seedling from my body to regrow and allow my children to watch over you and yours.”
“Done,” I whispered. “I don’t have a garden yet, but I will create one for the seedling and your children. I can never express to you how much this means to the entire realm of Faery. Your sacrifice will be noted, and I will make sure that this story is told to generations after this one, so that everyone will know of the Elder Tree’s sacrifice to save their world.”
I felt depleted and elated in the same moment. I hated the unfairness of the entire situation, but I wouldn’t turn the Elder Tree down. My children had to survive, and there was no denying that it was a selfish thing, but it wasn’t only for my children; it was for the ones who would come after as well.
“I’m not sure how this will work,” I whispered as the Elder Tree set me back gently on the ground, and Ryder approached silently. “I’m not willing to cause you any pain, but I accept the sacrifice that you have offered. Is there a painless way to proceed?” The ground trembled a little as if the Elder Tree was chuckling at me. I took that as a no.
“Synthia,” Ryder whispered as his fingers grazed mine in silent support.
“The bark of this Elder Tree will break the spell, but I’ve made him a promise that I fully intend to keep,” I said as I turned to look up at Ryder. “His children will be in the garden that we will create, and they will watch over us as we do the same for them. They are his children, and for his sacrifice to save ours, we will in turn protect his.”
“Synthia, are you sure?” Ryder asked. “Elder Trees can be very dangerous,” he amended.
“My children will be vigilant, and they will know of the sacrifice I make today.”
We both turned to look at the Tree. “I’ve already agreed to it, and I will protect the trees.”