by Mary Akers
“The Woodlands would not exist without the Elysian Trees,” her mother emphasized. “And the trees wouldn’t be there if not for the Claren.”
“So, I’m a Claren?” Elora asked, tilting her head as she tried to make sense of everything.
“We all are,” answered Asher.
“So, if you were to go outside and plant this seed,” she said, taking the necklace from her father and holding it up to Asher, “an Elysian Tree would grow?”
“No,” he said shaking his head. “Only Claren with the Mark of the Ever Tree can do that.”
“The Mark of the Ever Tree?” she asked, raising her eyebrows in question.
“The relationship between the Claren and the Ever Tree is complicated, almost symbiotic I suppose,” he started. “I think your parents are better equipped to explain it since I haven’t experienced it myself,” he said, nodding towards her father.
“Every year, after the seeds of the Ever Tree have fallen, the Claren celebrate something called The Gathering,” her father explained. “The community meets beneath the branches of the Ever Tree to search for that season’s harvest of seeds. All Claren above the age of twenty take part. The seeds typically are much more vibrant,” he said, pointing toward the necklace. “They are nearly silver in color and practically glimmer in the sunlight. Finding one twinkling from beneath the fallen leaves is always thrilling, no matter how many Gatherings you’ve attended,” he said, smiling with nostalgia.
“Yes, it really is magical,” agreed her mother. “But the truly significant part of the Gathering is that every year, a few young Claren will find their soulmates under that tree. You see, the seeds of the Ever Tree are charmed.”
Elora cocked her head to the side and raised her eyebrows, doubtful.
“I realize it’s hard to believe, love. But the Ever Tree brought your father and me together,” her mother said, chuckling softly. “And someday it will show you the man who is meant for you.”
“How?” Elora asked, curious.
“During the Gathering, if the time is right for you to find your soulmate, as you hold a seed it will begin to glow,” her father said. “It begins softly at first but grows brighter and brighter with every moment until it’s nearly blinding. In that final moment, as you close your eyes against the light, you receive a vision of your soulmate. And wherever that person may be, he will have a vision of you.”
Elora couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips. Her visions of the man in the forest came rushing to the forefront of her mind.
“Visions?” she repeated in a high-pitched voice before clearing her throat self-consciously.
She could see Asher watching her closely out of the corner of her eye.
“Yes, visions,” her mother continued. “And then, that night, after the Gathering, there is a ceremony called the Pairing. It is something similar to the Binding Ceremony you have seen here in Windom.”
“That seems really fast!” Elora cried, alarmed. “What if they don’t even know one another?”
“In all honesty, I don’t recall ever witnessing a Pairing where the couple wasn’t already deeply in love, Elora. The vision you receive from the Ever Tree isn’t just with your eyes, it’s with your heart. You don’t just see your match, you see him, you know him, and you recognize that he is meant for you. It’s almost impossible to explain,” her mother said, sharing a knowing smile with her father.
Elora listened, immediately comparing the description to her own visions. Her reaction to the man in her vision perhaps wasn’t as strong immediately, but her feelings had very quickly deepened and strengthened for him in a way that didn’t make sense. She’d never even seen his face. And yet she felt she knew him. Somehow, she perhaps even loved him. She found herself nodding subconsciously.
Asher cleared his throat and she jolted out of her reverie to find him watching her intensely. She tilted her head to the side in question. He looked away quickly, focusing on her mother across the table.
“You were telling her about the Mark of the Ever Tree,” Asher reminded her.
“Yes, well, the Pairing is like the Binding Ceremony except instead of the cord, the couple holds the seed that brought them together within their clasped hands,” her mother said, taking her father’s hand and pressing their palms together. “The seed is still shining, though not nearly as brightly by now. As the ceremony is completed, there is a brilliant flash of light from between their hands. When they release their grasp, it is revealed that the seed has lost its glow and the couple are left with a darkened imprint on their palms.”
“That imprint is the Mark of the Ever Tree,” her father said. “It signifies that their hearts are claimed by one another and their hands are empowered with the ability to cultivate the Elysian trees.”
“But you don’t have the Mark of the Ever Tree.” she said, looking between her parents, confused.
“The further we traveled from Clarendon and the Ever Tree, the lighter the Mark became. By the time we arrived in Windom, it had disappeared entirely,” she replied, looking down at her palm, sadly rubbing the place where her mark had been.
“Has your mark faded too?” she asked, looking over to Asher.
“No. I have not been paired,” he said, locking eyes with her. “There were no seeds on the year of my first Gathering,” he said. “Or any year since.”
“What?” her mother exclaimed, dismayed.
“That is one of the last seeds ever shed by the Ever Tree,” he said, staring sadly at the seed in Elora’s hand.
“What do you mean?” Jonas asked, his body rigid with concern.
“The Ever Tree is dead,” Asher said gently.
Her parents were struck dumb with shock. They stared at Asher in disbelief.
“How?” Winnifred whispered.
“After Elora was born, after you left, the seeds began to fade. They became less and less powerful with every season. Eventually the seeds that fell were like this one, dull and seemingly lifeless. But there was still magic in them because the Pairings continued. But that changed three years ago. The Gathering that autumn yielded no Pairings and even worse, the seeds produced no trees,” Asher said, his eyes waxy as he recalled the memory. “That was the last year the Ever Tree shed any seeds and by the following spring, it was dead.”
“Oh, God,” her father whispered in horror, grasping Winnifred’s hand. “It was all true.”
Elora looked with wide eyes at her parents before turning to find Asher watching her. He didn’t look away, holding her gaze unflinchingly as though expecting a response. What could she have to say? He surely couldn’t blame her for any of this.
“Why are you staring at me?” she whispered nervously. “This has nothing to do with me.”
“This has everything to do with you, Elora,” he replied, ducking his head to look at her more directly.
“What do you mean?” she asked uncomfortably. “Do you think this happened because we left?”
“No, this happened because you were born,” he answered.
“What?” she cried, indignantly. “The Ever Tree died because I was born?”
“No. Let me clarify. You were born because the Ever Tree was dying,” he explained.
“That didn’t clarify anything!” Elora exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration.
“You aren’t explaining this very well, son,” Jonas interjected.
Asher sighed, shifting in his seat to face Elora.
“You were born to make this right, Elora,” he said. “You are going to bring the Ever Tree back to life. It’s your destiny.”
“My destiny,” she repeated, her voice incredulous.
“Three centuries ago,” Asher began, “there was a Claren with the gift of foresight. She prophesied that one day the Ever Tree would fall, and that without it, the great forests of the Woodlands would vanish. Bu
t there was a chance for salvation and it would come in the form of a person she called the Renascent.”
Elora looked with wide eyes back and forth between her parents. Did they really believe this? Was what he said true? Her heart was racing.
“You think I am the Renascent?” Elora whispered, terrified.
“You are,” he stated confidently.
Her whole body sagged, weighted down by the overwhelming burden that had just fallen onto her small shoulders.
“How can you be sure?” she asked in a small voice.
“The prophesy states that this person will bear the Mark of the Ever Tree, not by Pairing, but by birth,” he said, holding her gaze as though willing her to accept and embrace his words.
“The Prophesy is common knowledge among the Claren,” interjected her father. “But it had been dismissed as a fairytale after 300 years passed without any of it coming true.
My parents told it to me as a bedtime story when I was a child. I never dreamed it could be real. But then you came along,” he said gently, looking across the table at Elora.
“My best friend, Miriam Weatherby, Asher’s mother, delivered you,” Winnifred recalled, nodding to Asher. “She very nearly dropped you when she noticed the mark on your back, Elora. It was unmistakably, undeniably the Mark of the Ever Tree.”
“We didn’t know what to do. We were afraid that people would panic if they knew that the prophesy was real and that it was coming to pass. And even worse, we were sure that you would be taken from us once the Liana discovered that you were the Renascent,” her father explained. “We tried to keep the Mark hidden, but one night, when you were nearly three months old we made a mistake.”
“Every year at the peak of summer, there is something called the Celebration of Light,” her mother continued. “The entire community gathers beneath the Ever Tree at night after the sun has set. Every light is extinguished and the forest is plunged into black. The darkness is overwhelming. But then suddenly, spots of light begin to flash and the forest comes alive with the dazzling display of a million fireflies. You can’t see the stars through the forest canopy, but oh my, the fireflies are a magnificent substitute,” she smiled, momentarily lost in her nostalgia. “It had always been my favorite night of the year, but you were too small and already sleeping so we weren’t going to go. At the last minute, a friend of mine offered to sit with you so that I could attend with your father. And we couldn’t resist. You were already sound asleep. I thought she wouldn’t even have to touch you,” Winnifred explained, an anguished look on her face.
“I could tell the minute we returned, just from the look in her eyes, that she had seen your birthmark,” her father said. “We knew it would only be a matter of time before she spoke of it. And once word reached the Commander of the Liana, he would have stopped at nothing to get a hold of you. We would have been powerless against them. Our only choice was to run as far away as we could and hide you for as long as possible; until you were old enough to fulfill your destiny and strong enough to defend yourself against those who would attempt to control you.” he finished.
“You are so much more than the Renascent, my love,” her mother said, reaching across the table to take Elora’s hand. “The prophesy doesn’t dictate who you are, it merely says what you will do. We wanted more for you than a life enslaved to the prophesy.”
“Perhaps we shouldn’t have taken you away from Clarendon,” her father said, his face creased with distress. “But we did it to protect you. And we always intended to take you back. I hope the Claren will be able to forgive us for that,” he said, closing his eyes and dropping his head in shame.
Elora watched her parents, agonized that they had been forced to make such a choice, such a sacrifice because of her. Knowing what she did now, everything about her parents made so much more sense. She had a newfound understanding of why they had chosen to live so privately, so secretly. And more than anything, she found she could no longer be angry for the way they had lied to her all these years. They had put her first, always; above themselves, above their people, above everything.
Elora grasped her mother’s hand, squeezing it tightly.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Winnifred looked up at her and exhaled, some of the anxiety easing from her features.
Elora reached out to clasp her father’s hand as well.
“I never should have doubted you,” she said, apologetic and ashamed.
He smiled in return, relieved. They sat there, quietly holding hands, enjoying the feelings of comfort and completeness their reunion provided. But after a moment, an expression of profound sadness washed over her mother’s face.
“Do they hate us?” she asked quietly, looking over to Asher.
“Not at first,” Asher replied gently. “I think most people probably understood why you ran away. They were concerned of course. Nothing much changed after you left though, so people just sort of moved on. But when the seeds started fading, so did their compassion for you. And then when the Ever Tree died and there was no Renascent to save us, your leaving and taking Elora away was seen as a betrayal. The Claren are hurting and the forests are beginning to die. They need someone to blame. And the Commander has been very clear about who that should be,” he stated grimly.
Elora watched as her mother’s chin began to quiver. Her father lifted his hands to cover his face, distraught. Elora struggled to take a breath as the weight of her parents’ grief pressed down on her. What would happen to them when they returned to Clarendon with her? What price would they pay for protecting her?
“Please don’t,” Elora said, her own voice trembling as she begged her mother not to cry, squeezing her hand comfortingly.
“We should have returned sooner,” her father said, rubbing his forehead and sighing loudly.
Elora looked between her parents, tortured by the fact that they were facing such condemnation because of what they’d done to protect her. She wouldn’t let them face it alone.
“I will make this right,” Elora said, looking into her father’s eyes, determined.
“You’re the only one who can,” Asher replied quietly beside her.
She looked over at him, biting her lip nervously.
“I hope you’re right,” she said. “I’m trying very hard to believe you.”
“You don’t have to believe me,” he replied turning towards her. “Believe this,” he said softly as he reached out to gently brush his fingers across the satin covering the birthmark on her back.
Her breath caught in her throat and she stared into his eyes, both startled and thrilled at his touch. Her skin tingled as though it had come alive beneath his fingers. He gazed back at her unwaveringly. Everything else seemed to blur and disappear besides the intoxicating blue-green of his eyes. She had no idea how long they sat transfixed before her father cleared his throat.
Elora jerked her gaze to her parents, trying to quell the self-conscious blush that threatened to warm her cheeks. They were looking back and forth between Elora and Asher, a surprised and somewhat alarmed expression on their faces. She cautioned a look back towards Asher to find that he was still watching her intently. She turned away, acutely aware of him and confused by the familiar and almost possessive way that he interacted with her.
“Elora,” her father said, attempting to reclaim her attention.
“Yes?” she asked, trying to focus on him.
“May we see the Mark?” he asked hesitantly, shifting his eyes and nodding his head towards her back.
Elora’s mouth fell open for a moment, caught off-guard by his request. But sensing their curiosity and enthusiasm, she couldn’t deny them. She stood slowly, pushing her chair back from the table. Careful to avoid looking at Asher, she turned away from them, unwrapping the scrap of satin from her elbow and letting it fall to the side. At the sound of her mother’s gasp, she dropped her gaze
to the floor and tried to suppress her mortification. She let them look for a few moments until she self-consciously couldn’t stand it one second more.
“Amazing,” whispered her father, as she turned and sat back down.
Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment at their scrutiny. She cautioned a brief glance at Asher. His eyes nearly sparkled with excitement as he stared at her, awe-struck. She looked away, uncomfortable but also exhilarated by his reaction.
“When did it start to change, Elora?” her mother asked, her voice breathy with wonder.
“About the same time that I gained my ability,” she remarked, studying the table to avoid their fascinated stares.
“Can we see that too?” her father asked, struggling to contain his eagerness.
“I’ll try. It might be hard to focus with all of you watching,” she said hesitantly.
“Here,” her mother said, beginning to stand. “I have some young strawberry plants that I just transplanted into a few pots out back. Let me grab one.”
“I’ll get it,” Asher said, rising quickly and practically running to fetch the plant
Elora looked back and forth between her parents, trying not to let their keen expressions terrify her. She’d never performed under such pressure. What would she focus on? Would she even be able to focus?
Asher returned a minute later carrying a pot with a small cluster of green leaves. He placed it carefully in front of Elora. She looked up at him, nervous, and he smiled back encouragingly.
Elora reached out, grasping the pot with both hands and pulled it towards her. She stretched out her finger to gently brush one of the lush green leaves. Looking around briefly, she took in the rapt countenances of everyone at the table.
“Just try, sweetheart. I know this is a lot of pressure,” her mother soothed.
Elora took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to block out everyone and everything. She let her thoughts drift to the forest. A calm came over her as she imagined the feel of the cool moist air on her skin and the rushing sound of leaves blowing in the wind. She lost herself in the memory of her favorite vision, only this time her feelings were heightened. Because this time she knew the truth of who she was. Because this time she knew her visions were real, that he was real, and that he was meant for her. She heard the familiar sound of a twig snapping and her heart began to beat faster.
