The Great Tree and the Street Urchin

Previously submitted to Writer's Digest writing competition

Image made with Canva

Which branch would it be today? Perhaps snake branch? Dragon? The urchin Scamp considered each as he sat above the main trunk, nestled at the junction of bird branch and red branch. He’d named each and knew the best path to get to any one at any time. They had bolstered him in times of celebration and cradled him in days of sorrow. The people of Oakton called it one of the twelve Great Trees. He simply called it his friend.

A tug on his mind drew him to snake branch. The spirits within the tree liked to spy as much as Scamp, so they often led him to spots with good vantage points. He was the only one who felt them, a fact that had gotten him bullied more than once, but he was still grateful for their presence.

Clambering to the edge of the branch, he peered down and tried to pick out bits of conversation from the crowd.

“Did you see her yesterday? What on earth was she wearing?”

“I saw them slip behind the tavern last night.”

“Heard he’s running out of money. Do you think they’ll survive another winter?”

Scamp heard these things every day. Townsfolk always seemed to be eager to gossip about one another, ready to turn on each other in exchange for a juicy story. Most of these things weren’t even true.

As if sensing his boredom, the spirits tugged at him again, leading him to dragon branch. The café. Good choice. Always lots of visitors.

Today’s strangers were mostly merchants, preparing to set out on another long journey to one of the bigger treed cities. Among them, at a table nearest the building, sat some rather mysterious figures, covered in dusty cloaks that hid their faces. If he had to guess, it was a man and a woman. They sat tall, but a slight sweep of their heads made it seem like they were watching the entire square. The townsfolk tossed them critical glances, judging more than fearing. They seemed to be eating simple food; Scamp recognized it as the cheapest on the menu. It was what he got to eat on the rare occasion he could get ahold of some coin. He was disappointed to discover these figures as silent as they were strange.

So Scamp shifted his focus to the merchants. Almost directly below him was a pair in clothes nearly as dirty as his own. A waitress came over and set down a plate that made Scamp’s mouth water: fresh fruit, warm pastries, sugary syrups.

“Where are you two coming from?” She asked with a smile, just as eager as her fellow townsfolk for “news”.

The larger of the two beamed up at her. “We came from the south, a small town just past Pinville.”

“So far? Are you headed to the Capital then?”

“Yes, we are.”

She didn’t catch the subtle dismissal in his tone. “Wouldn’t you run out of merchandise before getting there?”

The other merchant pursed his lips.

The chatty man gave her another smile, this one less genuine. “We can pick up some more along the way.”

Still the waitress didn’t leave. If Scamp had been sitting at that table, staring at perfectly good, untouched food, he would have yelled at the woman long ago.

She continued to probe. “You are part of the new companies?”

The man’s composure was beginning to fall. “Sure. Miss, if you don’t mind…?”

Finally catching the hint, she turned and walked away, her smile falling to an irritated scowl as soon as they couldn’t see her face anymore. The merchants began to eat their food.

“Must you be so chatty?” the grumpy one said, spearing a strawberry with a fork.

“Must you be so disagreeable?”

“We’re not here to make friends. We shouldn’t have even stopped to eat.”

“I was hungry! You know I can’t travel on an empty stomach!”

“You could do with going a little hungry, you ask me. The information we have is far more important than bread slathered with sugar.”

Scamp’s ears perked up and he leaned forward a bit more on the branch. The large one continued.

“We don’t even know for sure we have any information at all.”

The grumpy one looked at him with incredulity. “No information?!” He dropped his voice to a harsh whisper that made Scamp lean forward even more, bracing himself on a smaller branch. “You saw as well as I the smoke and the running and the fighting. The tree was even-”

“We don’t know for sure that anything happened.”

The branch Scamp had been leaning on began to creak and before he could jump back to a thicker one, it snapped. His stomach slammed into his throat for a moment as he fell, crashing onto the table between the two merchants.

“What the…!” The large one shouted.

Scamp rolled off the table and hastily dodged the swipe of a broom wielded by the waitress.

“Get out of here! Shoo!”

Living up to his name, Scamp scampered away. Ducking under one table and skirting around another, he slipped between the buildings and into the shade of the alley. Trying to make himself disappear, he hunkered down behind some debris and waited. Once the sounds of upheaval died down and his heartbeat slowed, his mind drifted back to what the merchants had said. Smoke? Running? Fighting? It sounded like an attack. But who would attack a treed town?

Footsteps made Scamp tense.

Were the merchants coming after him?

The waitress?

A guard?

If Scamp ran now, he would be visible and likely caught. But he was small and had always been easily overlooked, so he curled around himself tighter.

The footsteps came closer.

Closer.

Maybe they would pass by.

No such luck. The footsteps stopped just on the other side of the debris. Scamp tried to stifle his breathing.

“You don’t have to be afraid.” It was a woman’s voice, unknown, but kind. “You can come out.”

Scamp had learned long ago how dangerous trust was. He had a nasty scar to remind him should he ever be tempted.

But the woman was still there.

He peeked around the edge of the debris to see one of the mysterious travelers crouched in the middle of the alley. Her face was still obscured by the hood, but the front of the cloak had fallen open where she held her hand out and Scamp could see a little of the armor she wore beneath. A scuffed breastplate fastened over well-worn travelling clothes with weapons secured in multiple places. In her hand she had a roll, still steaming with melted butter on it.

“It’s alright, I won’t hurt you.” Again, Scamp felt her voice was kind, as was the smile he could barely make out.

The smell of the roll overrode his fear and he crept out, swiping the bread when he was close enough then stepping back again so he would be out of her reach. The buttered roll was heaven to his empty stomach.

The woman stood and Scamp watched her with a wary eye. He expected her to lunge or berate him. Instead, she took a step back.

“Take care of yourself, kid. And maybe don’t lean on such thin branches next time, yeah?” There was a hint of a laugh in her voice. Then she simply turned and walked away, leaving Scamp with butter on his face and wonder buzzing in his head.

He spent the rest of the day hiding, trying to stay away from anyone who might want to get him for the morning’s debacle or who would pick on him. The sun set and he made for his hideaway, a hidden alcove in the tavern’s rafters above the main floor. From his perch, he could watch the people below as they drank, ate, and, of course, talked.

“Did you hear?”

“What?”

“They’re saying the Great Tree at Pinville is dead.”

“Don’t even joke about something like that!”

“I’m not kidding! I’ve overheard several merchants in the last few days talking about it. Pinville is gone and the Tree is dead.”

“It can’t die, they’re all connected.” A sigh. “When was this supposed attack?”

“Near the end of last week. Dark creatures swarmed the whole place, attacking everyone and destroying the buildings. They attached to the Tree and sucked it dry like some giant, demented tick! There were no survivors.”

“Then how do you know what happened?”

An embarrassed pause. “Well, maybe there were a few survivors.”

“Uh huh.”

“But that’s not the craziest part! These people showed up and began fighting the creatures, using crazy magic.”

“ ‘Crazy magic.’ Okay, how much have you had to drink?”

“Not that much!”

“Yeah, okay. Enough tales from you.”

The gossipers faded back into the din of the tavern.

Tales and stories, gossip and hearsay. All flowed freely when ale was being poured. But Scamp had to wonder if it really was just a tale. If another Great Tree had been attacked, it would explain the melancholy coming from their own tree that had been trailing along his neck for the past several nights.

Slipping back outside, he made his way through the lamp-lit streets back to the square and the tree. He placed his hand on the familiar bark. Indeed, the spirits that lived within the tree were stirring, almost as if they cried for their fallen friend. Had he felt it earlier and simply ignored it in his curiosity? Or did the night strengthen such feelings?

He thought back to the merchants from earlier. They had seemed scared. Had they been the witnesses? Was there more to it than the gossipers knew?

A chill wind blew through the square.

Would the creatures come for this tree next?

The thought scared Scamp.

Shaking his head, he reprimanded himself. Don’t be ridiculous. Nothing could harm the Great Trees. Perhaps something else had caused the spirits’ sadness. With a gentle pat on the tree, he left the square once again and made for his bed. Some days really just needed to be slept off.

The panic that woke him was not his own, but it set his heart pounding anyway. It took only a second for him to understand where it was coming from, sending him scrambling out of the tavern and back onto the streets. He couldn’t have been asleep that long, the light from the coming morn wasn’t even creating that ethereal sliver on the horizon yet.

Silence clung to the streets, making his footfalls achingly loud to his ears, but he didn’t care. The pull in his chest kept him moving. He didn’t know what he would do once he got to the tree, but he knew he needed to be there. Now.

When he first entered the square, he thought perhaps he’d been wrong.

There were no people in the square.

The shops were locked up tight.

The tree seemed as quiet as always.

But then a light breeze rustled the leaves of the tree and Scamp got a glimpse of something impossible.

At first he thought it was just the shifting shadows that come with the swaying of leaves. But then it grew darker, and the rustling wasn’t just rustling anymore. It was chittering, loud and high, almost painful to hear as it became louder. When the wind cleared the clouds from the moon, he could make out four…six legs? The creatures were somehow simultaneously shining, solid beetles, and shifting ink, never remaining in precisely one spot or one shape. As they wavered, the tree began to groan, the leaves at the top beginning to wilt. The spirits of the tree reached out again, a silent plea for help bouncing around Scamp’s head.

One of the nearby doors rattled as a moneylender who’d stayed far too late at work slammed and locked it, oblivious to the horror he’d just stepped into. He saw Scamp and raised an eyebrow. A shadow detached from the tree and landed on the man. His scream was short, but shrill. Scamp watched, frozen, as the creature consumed the man, leaving little more than bones and blood when it finished.

“Pity. If he’d left a few seconds later, I could have saved him the gruesomeness.” A woman’s voice. She entered the square to the left, gleaming knives strapped to every piece of clothing. Next to her stood a large man, more traditional armor covering his body. Both were clad in black, and both had cherry-red eyes. The man scowled.

“You just wanted the fun of killing him.”

She grinned, revealing sharp, straight teeth. “Duh.”

The man’s vision seemed to shift to Scamp, still staring at the scene unfolding before him. “Want that one?”

A pout. “He’ll barely tie me over until the other townspeople get here.”

“Want him or not?”

The woman freed a long dagger from her hip. “I’ll take him.”

Scamp had always believed himself to be brave. He stood up to big, dumb bullies almost daily. He even stared down a snake the other day. But as the woman took a leisurely pace to approach him, he couldn’t find the will to move his legs.

Short, narrow breaths.

Shaking hands.

Dry mouth.

Wide eyes.

The woman was over half-way to him now. The thought crossed his mind that he might still be able to get away if he moved now.

But still, he stood.

A shadow appeared between them and for a moment Scamp thought one of the creatures had decided to come for him. Instead, the shadow spoke.

“And here I thought the stench was the sewers overflowing.” Another woman’s voice, but this one he recognized. It was the hooded stranger from earlier who’d given him the roll. “Hello, Mal.”

The other woman’s grin grew manic. “I was hoping for another chance to kill you.”

The two women launched at each other, a spark of moonlight when their blades clashed. Another shadow, the other figure from earlier, rushed past Scamp and attacked the large man. Suddenly, sparks and waves of color began flying around the square as they focused on their fights, leaping from one surface to another.

Crazy magic.

Scamp had seen a few magicians pass through before, performing tricks for coin, but this was different. This was dangerous.

“What’s going on here?”

Scamp turned to see one of the town guards and a few curious townsfolk, finally coming to investigate the earlier scream. The horror of the bones became swallowed by a different kind of panic as one of the spells slammed into a building and immediately set it ablaze. Chaos blossomed as more people entered the square, trying to put out the flames.

Another painful pull on Scamp’s senses. He returned his attention to the tree, ignored by all as they hurried around, carrying buckets and avoiding the continuing fights.

By the time everyone noticed the falling leaves and mottled bark, it would be too late. But what could Scamp do? He was just a kid, small for his age and alone and not as brave as he’d thought.

As if it could sense his gaze, one of the creatures leapt off the tree. In a burst of adrenaline, he managed to dodge it. It chittered, a liquid ripple running along its shell before another person got too close and the creature pounced.

More detached from the tree and found victims. Screams echoed around the square and fear took over even the bravest of them. The fires were forgotten. A few tried to fight back, but all attempts proved fruitless. Weapons either fell right through the creatures or bounced off their hard shells.

In the scramble, Scamp was thrown against the tree. The spirits became agonizingly loud. He tried to cover his ears, but couldn’t deafen the hundreds of new voices in his head.

Help us! They seemed to scream.

“I can’t!” He shouted. “I’m too little! I… I don’t know how!”

A warmth wrapped around him, quieting the voices. One distinct presence appeared before him.

“I’ll show you, special one.”

When Scamp opened his eyes, it was as if no time had passed, though it had seemed like he listened to the spirit for hours. He didn’t understand what he was about to do, nor why he was the one to do it, but he followed the spirit’s instructions exactly.

Breathe.

Close your eyes.

Feel the energy running beneath your feet.

Reach for it with your mind.

Funnel it through the tree and through yourself.

A wash of heat blazed through Scamp as he directed the energy as he’d been told. The tree began to glow, the light petrifying and crumbling the creatures that remained there. Those in the square squealed and shrunk down away from the light.

The heat coursing through Scamp was too much. He was a bucket overflowing, unable to contain the energy.

“You rotten little brat!” Mal screamed and leapt at him.

Remembering the last of the spirit’s instructions, Scamp unleashed the energy in a wave, knocking back Mal midair and washing through the square, frying the last of the creatures. When the last of the energy left him, his body gave out, and he fell into darkness.

“Hey, kid, are you alright?”

Scamp could barely open his eyes, he was so tired. When he finally managed to wake enough to take in his surroundings, he realized he was cradled in the kind woman’s arms and she was looking at him with concern and… awe?

“Are you alright?” She repeated.

Scamp sat up. “I… think so. What happened?”

“You changed the game.” A man said from where he loomed over the woman’s shoulder. He must have been the other cloaked figure, his armor matching the woman’s almost perfectly. She threw him a quick glare before returning her gaze to Scamp.

“I can’t say for sure, but I think you called upon the Leyth. The magic that flows through the connected roots of the Great Trees.” She added when Scamp gave her a blank stare. “You destroyed the creatures and scared off Mal and her thug partner. You saved the town.”

Scamp looked at the townspeople scattered around what was left of the square. Their frightened eyes told him all he needed to know. He was no longer welcome in Oakton.

It wasn’t even a full day before he found himself standing before the Great Tree for the last time. Several branches were dead now and most of the tree had lost its leaves, but it still lived. A gentle brush from the spirits in the tree ran through Scamp’s mind.

“You’re welcome.” He said.

“Ready, kid?” the kind woman asked.

He took one last look around the square that had been his world since he could remember. Turning, he took his small bag of meager belongings and joined the two strangers on their way out of town.

It was time for Scamp to become something more.