Tuesday Tales: The Spirits of the Willow Trees

*This post occurred before I changed the WIP title.*


Tuesdays are the day I have set aside to get my creative mind rolling by writing flash fiction. For the time being, these stories will be set in Teorre, the world of my current WIP, The Crystal Bearer. Once again using 200 Fantasy Writing Prompts by Matt Dellar, I found another one suited for a glimpse into the world of Teorre: Prompt 101. Your protagonist is a sentient tree. Though the trees aren't sentient in my story, they are sentient in stories within my story, so I shall give this a try.

The Spirits of the Willow Trees


Translated from the Sprityn poem “Llo Teospriesello” by Alyn of Westward Village

The Spirits of the Willow Trees
The White, the Blue, the Green
The loveliest of all the trees
That I have ever seen

Taller than a Trollic stands
Stronger than they fight

Unless you happen to forget
The weak vines of the White

If you climb her, prepare to fall
She’s delicate and for show
She will smile, laugh, and say, “Sweet fool,
How did you not yet know?”

Her branches break even for the Sprite
So do not try to climb the White.

Instead, do try her brother Blue
The oldest of the three
His vines indeed are strongest
And their hue a sight to see

He knows his leaves are rare on Teorre
And many come to meet him
He smiles, waves, and guides those who
Are eager to greet him

His branches, vines, and leaves are strong
Enough to hold a Gilla
He doesn’t even complain of them
What a kind and gentle willow!

And here is something else you’ll find
Pleasing to your ear
The Blue is not only very strong,
But resistant to all fire!

So know the Blue may be the best
If not, then at least the strongest

Blue and White live with the Bearers
To see them you must travel
We Sprites wouldn’t mind so much
But their shores are harsh with gravel

So though the ocean is between
We have their timid sister Green

Green has many sons on Teorre
Her branches strong, her vines are, too
She’s very quiet, but certain of
Her role for me and you

She gives her vines to everyone
Humans, Gillas, Hulks
The shiest of the Wills can house
Treesprites in her bulk

Baysprites boil her leaves for salve
Hillsprites wear her vines
Green doesn’t say much; she just smiles
And says, “Do take more. ‘Tis fine.”

Other Spirits try to copy her
She’s sweet and mellow natured
Though White is pretty and Blue is strong
Green is beautiful in stature

She grows the widest and spreads herself
For all races to see
If you asked me, I would say
Green is my favorite of the three

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