The Princess of the Human World
It was a strange ritual. Molly would sit on the ground and close her eyes, making sure to arrange her legs in a lotus position. The dewy ground under her would shake a bit and slope, sending her sliding forward. Wind would rustle her silver blond hair for several minutes as she sped, blind, to stop in front of a large tree. Only when she had come to a complete stop would she open her eyes.
The tree in front of her would twist and the hollow lengthen until two beady little eyes appeared in the bark and the tree was able to speak to her. But Molly could not speak back. Every time she was asked a question, she would brush her hand over the scar on her neck, nervously, hoping that whatever was in charge of the tree, would notice and leave her alone.
But, tonight, instead of questions, the tree smiled, the bark crackling as the hollow lengthened upwards. Molly did not return the friendly gesture, but clutched the ground, her face even paler than usual.
“My mistress demands a meeting with you,” the tree said, still smiling. “She wishes to see for herself, the obstinate little princess.”
Molly could do nothing but blink, as she was blindfolded and sent spinning and sliding to another unknown destination. The wind was bit harder than it usually had through her thin frock, but she was too distracted to notice the pain from the cold. She ricocheted off several rough objects, scratching her arms on the way. At last, she stopped and the blindfold was removed. To her first reaction, she was in the center of a large white tree. Water trickled down the sides into a large basin far below the glass floor where the roots of the plant bathed in it. The ceiling branched off to feed presumably leaves and a few small silver insects crawled up and down the tree, aiding water where they could, carrying various objects into little nooks carved into the walls. But facing her was a long hallway that ended in a gold door with a wooden handle. Molly stood up and slowly approached the door. She carefully placed her hands on the knob and gently turned it; the knob seamlessly slid through her hands. She pulled the door ajar and poked her head in.
This room was gold and engraved with a great many stories, she could only imagine: men and women fighting dragons, lions, and other frightening beasts; ships going out to sea; lovers, heirs, curses, and blessings; cities being built and destroyed; and a great many other things of heroes and legends.
“Come in, child,” a crystal voice said from somewhere farther in the room. Molly started to retreat back towards the hall, but wash ushered inside the gold room by the voice. Now inside, she realized it was more of a cavern and both the ceiling and walls were covered in pictures. In the middle of the room, surrounded by a circle of water was a wooden chair covered in purple velvet and sitting on the seat was a beautiful woman made entirely out of wood. Her eyes sparkled down at the small silver ones looking up at her.
“My servants tell me you don’t talk,” she said. “Perhaps its best to explain our motives, first,” she pointed vaguely to an area of the gold room, “Our last story begins with losing a princess who was heir to the human throne. But she disappeared after an outing in the forest one day and the fragile treaty between the trees and the humans was broken. Thus, when a girl showed up in one of the elfin villages, it was somewhat crucial to the trees to figure out if she was indeed the princess lost. But the problem is, she doesn’t talk. So it’s quite impossible to figure out if she is indeed the princess who saved her land from disease and famine. It was quite a story you should find out sometime. I want to know what happened to your voice, so for now—I will lend you the gift of speech.”
Molly’s throat burned, but she pushed through it fueling air harshly through her throat. It was a harsh sound full of static, but she continued talking and gradually it got less rusty and more fluid.
“I got sick,” Molly said. “The doctor had to take it out before the infection spread. Beggin’ your pardon ma’am,” Molly pressed onward, “but I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not a princess. I was born to the woodcutter.”
The woman shuttered at the word “woodcutter.” She smiled with the same crackle of wood as the tree, but not quite as loud. “That’s no surprise,” she said. “The trees tell me you came in contact with the Forgetter.”
Molly wrinkled her nose and made move to talk, but found she couldn’t again.
“It’s to our advantage that you don’t remember anything. Acres of my people have been killed and I don’t want the king getting too happy that you’re back before replacing my lost land.” The woman looked at Molly, as if it was her fault, but Molly stared like stone back at her. “Regardless,” she continued, “it doesn’t matter if you are her, just so much as you look like her.”
Molly looked shocked and turned away from the woman frowning and biting her lip.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” the woman said. “legend has it that you’ll be sent to get your memory back from the Forgetter as a test, anyway before I can profit from anything. I’ve already offered up six little girls and you should be the last one. Unless the stars are playing with us again.”
Molly didn’t move. The woman finally waved her off with her hand and told a couple insects waiting at the door to give Molly a place to sleep. She followed them reluctantly, but she didn’t need to worry about the place she would end up staying. Back in the silver room and up a small ladder of knots in the wood, she found her bed neatly made in lavender silk with a wooden armoire next to it full of lovely clothes. Molly sat down on her bed forgetting her rebellious pretense and tested out the give. The ropes bounced back eagerly and, having nothing else to do, Molly lay down on the silk and went to sleep.
As she lay, the wooden woman got up from her seat and left the golden room. But she did not go to the silver entranceway, but pressed a small button on the leg of the chair with her heel and sank downward into a polished blue room. The room sparkled with stars and various models of the sky spun around in slow circles.
“What do you think?” she asked the darkness. A figure stood up and approached her, a full head taller than she and flexed its white wings.
“She’s the one,” he said returning back to his corner after bowing to the wooden lady. “There’s no reason for me to stay. I’ll return tomorrow.”
“NO!” the wooden woman yelled, causing some of the equipment to stutter on their course. “I do not know you aren’t lying.”
“Prophecies don’t lie,” he said. “Only the ones giving them. But you have it yourself written in stone and I wouldn’t lie.”
She started to protest again, but he put his hand over her mouth. “There is nothing you can do to keep me and now that you have what you want, I will leave.” He vanished to the corner and she thought it best not to argue.
“As long as everything is going according to the legends,” she said to the darkness, “I have no reason for concern. But if one event does not go accordingly, all the forests will burn.”
She started to leave but stopped as he said, “You have quite the audacity to let your people burn.”
“What would anyone do without trees?” she asked, “you all underestimate us, but you’ll kill yourselves off for shelter, oxygen and food without us. It’s only a matter of time before things deteriorate. There’s only so long you can eat mushrooms.”
She thought she heard him laugh before she sat back on her chair and pressed the button again, speeding off to another location of her infinite castle.
