The Feather Tree
Written by Christie
Dear Wizard, this story is dedicated to you. It's a bit long and I've not written for a long time...but still, I hope you would like it.
Warm regards, Christie
It was a very chilly winter, indeed.
The whole town of Ryvenn shivered with the cold gusts of wind. Not a leaf remained on a single tree. Not a flower remained on a single plant. Not a bird sang and not a beam of sunlight fell from the curtain of grey clouds. But, there was also no snow.
On such a cold and frosty winter day, a young boy was taking a stroll around the markets, eating a loaf of bread. He wore nothing warm except a long muffler wrapped around his neck. And he was nothing less than a wizard.
The Wizard walked around the markets quietly, his ears catching the rumours.
Some said, “It’s a curse, my men, a terrible curse on us by Mother Nature!”
Some said, “Oh no, it’s all the fault of those Winter Pixies! They must have angered the Sun Lords!”
It was nearly dusk when the wizard decided to head home.
“Hey, Wiz, what’re ye thinkin’?” asked Wyvern, his pet raven. “Mr brainy-boffin, what do ye think ‘bout the winter?”
The Wizard did not reply but walked to his house, a plan already hatching in his mind.
At the Black feathers’ building, high tea was already served.
“You are late,” said Lady Insa, “Come and have these scones,”
The Wizard apologised and took a seat beside Lesemagier, a fellow wizard.
“Why do you think the winter is so long, Lesemagier?” he asked.
The older boy shrugged and adjusted his spectacles. “Don’t know. It’s been already there for four months now. Maybe it’s because the Feather Tree has shed its leaves.”
“The Feather Tree?” The Wizard was new to the town and didn’t know as many things as his senior did, of course.
“You don’t know about the feather tree? It’s a large tree in middle of town. The leaves look like feathers, pitch black feathers, and can heal any wound. You really didn’t know anything about it?” said Lesemagier, between bites.
After the meal was over, Lesemagier and The Wizard went over to the Barn Library and discussed about the Feather Tree. Wyvern was there, of course, listening to each and every word.
“Hey, Wiz, I’ve a plan! Wake up! Wake up!”
The Wizard stirred lazily at his sleep and clutched his blanket closer.
“What Wyv? It’s middle of night!” he murmured to himself.
“I’ve a plan, Wiz! Get up! It’s a whizz plan! I know how to get rid of this winter! Let’s go to the Feather Tree!” the gruff, cawing whisper resumed.
Defeated, the Wizard carefully stood up and stuck out his tongue to the raven.
“You brat!” he mouthed the words as he tip-toed near his pile of clothes.
His bare feet made no sound and his partner slept peacefully.
After ten minutes, the Wizard was ready and slipped outside through the back door.
The night air was chilly cold. A sly wind rustled among the wild bushes. A thin curving moon was peeping out from the clouds and a solitary owl hooted.
“It sure is creepy, isn’t it, Wyvern?” he said.
“No time to talk about it! Come quick!” the raven replied and flapped its wings faster and faster.
At last they reached the legendary tree. It wasn’t very far from their home, really.
In the pale moonlight, the silvery bark glowed. There wasn’t a single leaf on the tree as there wasn’t a single star on the sky.
“C’mon, let’s start our plans!” said Wyvern, “Pluck my feathers!”
They had discussed their plans well in their journey but still now, his hands trembled to pick a feather from his raven’s skin. But he did it, nonetheless.
With trembling hands, but lightning speed, he plucked a feather. Another feather. And yet another feather.
“O my magical amulet, show thy powers! Stick Wyvern’s feathers to the trees, as if they are flowers!” he chanted and the necklace hidden behind his scarf began to glow.
The feathers wavered in the air and got fixed on the thin leafless branches.
Suddenly from the bushes, three small men emerged with pointy ears and pointy hats.
“Three black feathers on the Feather Tree! Grow, grow, grow!” they sang, “O Feather Tree, bloom, bloom, bloom! And save us from these terrible winter gloom!
The three small men danced and sang around the silvery bark, and oh my! Magic did happen! All the thin bare branches started to shiver and quiver and thick pitch-black feathers emerged all around.
The clouds started to clear and the air suddenly got warmer. Stars twinkled and the crickets sang.
They did it! They did it! The winter was gone and now autumn was on trail.