15 True Stories from the Oak

As often as Kets and Awiiya can manage, the Oak sprout, which is located just beyond the gates to the MagicDuel Archives, receives a story. The stories range from fantasy to reality, and cover a broad variety of emotions and situations.

Here are 15 of the stories that are rooted in truth.

Gardeners

Day 234: GardenersBy Awiiya There is something peaceful, something that draws people around. Two people, standing by the side of the road, push a seed into the ground. They watch it grow, treat it not as a plant but as a person. Unmoving, it cannot go to the world, and so these two and the others that join them bring the world to it. Singing songs to one, so that its roots may dance with their happy water dances. Telling stories to another, so that when its seeds blow to the wind it will tell them of the things they will find, and have friends in all corners of the land. Giving wishes to another, for if a gate can grow over an impassable tunnel... any wish can come true as well. The day's happenings to another, because without news the seed would be reduced to telling the grass of the weather, rather than the Tainted. Finally secrets usually left untold. In the fibers of the Spruce the words rest firmly and safely, rather than melting holes through minds.

Four seeds and a Gate, and nothing to give but the lives we live. Two gardeners and their friends, who can tell where the seeds stop and the people begin? We're all life. You present me with your wood and fruit, for heat and for food; I will present you with my water, brought from a neverending can. Take a second to give to another, and another second will give to you.

So we water the seeds, every night.

Shades

Day 235: ShadesBy AwiiyaThe Shades and I have never talked. There was a time when they spoke, and they spoke freely. They communicated with Khalazdad and the Sentinels, telling them of how they had no time. They spoke of great things, mighty victories and amazing powers.

But to me, no, they have never talked. Many times have I slayed a rogue shade or two in battle, fighting back to the road so that I can recount a familiar dream. But talk? No, they do not talk to me, or to anyone else.

They say the Shades are almost like mirrors to ourselves. Perhaps they do not talk to me because I do not talk to them? Never have I called out into the Darkness of Necrovion, "Hello, good shade, how are you today?" The Shades are like any person... if not respected, they will not respect. If fought, they will fight. If loved, they will love. Maybe one day I will enter their land, and ask them how their day was. And if mine was bad, perhaps they will respond that theirs was awful as well, and we will converse on our grievances. Who knows, but an adventure awaits to he who calls into the darkness of himself, and who else are we bound to find in the shades but ourselves?

The Watering Can

Day 236- The Watering CanBy AwiiyaYou might have noticed the watering can that we carry around to every seed, so that they may not thirst during the night. Handy Pockets tells me that it is magical, never having a bottom. I will tell you something, perhaps she is right. But there is a reason for the magic, and I had no part in it.

The very metal of the Watering Can had a conversation with its source, and it told the water what we did with the water we collected each night. It told the lake of how we watered Nature's sons and daughters with our two hands, and sang and told them stories. The water was impressed, and told the story to the other water in the lake. All of them conversed, and they all wanted to go into the Water Can so that they could join in on our good deed. A great amount of water jumped into my can, trying to fit so that they may be used. Because our use is unselfish, the water will give itself as long as it is wet. And so my can is effectively endless, having been poured night after night, and still the water winks at me. It says, "You are there for them, and we are here for you. Those who support will be supported." And I wink back and say, "Brother helper, seed waterer, we are two rain droplets in the world, but if we can do some good, then maybe everything will be just a little bit better."

Songs to Golemus

Day 239: Songs to GolemusBy AwiiyaWe start at the crest of the mountain, breathing deeply the night air and looking down. From here you can see all, from Golemus to Loreroot, and even as far as the East. The pillars of the Hall of Fame grace the skyline. Taking in the energy of the land, she begins with a song.
"Val-der-ri, Val-der-ra"
"Val-der-ri, Val-der-ra ra ra"
"With my knapsack on my back"

Quiet for a moment, and then I echo with the echoing song.
"Val-der-ri, Val-der-ra,"
"Val-der-ri, Val-der-ra ra ra,"
"With her knapsack on her back."

We step down the path, echoing ourselves and adding verses, inviting others to join in on the happy song. No one hears, except for the spirit of the world, with its ear affixed to our words of song. We are the only two people on the island, but our songs fill it with the voices of many. Off the hillside our songs echo, me echoing her, the water echoing me, and the sky echoing it. We yell until a cacophony of noise becomes a symphony, blending in to natural rhythm. To ourselves, and for others, we walk and sing her song.

Alche's Statue

Day 241: Alche's StatueBy AwiiyaThere was a night, not so dark as this, where the stars shone in the eyes of others, and the jig of the night was merry and bright. The moon, for there is a moon every so often, came out and gave a smile, granting its white and gray features to the people below.

Me and another, we went for a jog. The night was just right, and our feelings were in the air, breathed in by all we ran by. "To the Gray Statue!" we cried, "On this joyous night we will crack his icy stare, oh so cold."

We ran right up to him, and there he was, staring stony as ever. We took in a sharp breath, and the night held it with us, waiting in anticipation. We stared, locked in a gaze with the statue, a game of silence we could never win. When all seemed lost, there was a burst of orange in the sky, and the shadows caught fire. And on the lips of our Gray Statue, a smile burst forth, rivaling the greeting of separated lover reunited.

He smiled, and smiled, and his eyes winked and wrinkled at the night of silliness. And so did we, and as we smiled more, so did he, and the orange light grew brighter still, until all was awash in mindless orange enjoyment. We laughed ourselves to sleep, our light growing dim.

The next morning, we walked considerably more solemn by the statue. Meeting his gaze, his mouth remained cold and grim, but in his eyes... a tinge of orange still remained.

Handy Pockets

Day 242: Handy PocketsBy Awiiya Handy Pockets is her name, and I know no other more diligent.

I first met her in the Paper Cabin, and we talked. We talked of many things, but what caught my attention is that she had been reading not only the Principles, but also the Adventure Log. It takes most veterans months to read that, because they lack what she has in abundance. She read them all, in under a week.

I would give her homework assignments, to write a spell, to read a Principle. The next day, as ready as clockwork, it was done.

These days, she is no less diligent. We planted the seeds in May, three months ago, perhaps a little more. In all that time, she has missed two days with them, and that is all.

Like water running diligently to the ocean, she is here everyday, the same time. Watering the seeds with a motion now ingrained in her mind from the repetitions. Rituals are her life, from singing to the mountains, to taking little observances of anything she finds off. She even was so diligent as to record the changing of letters in as much realm as she could reach. She is the only person to ever even try to do so.

I give her a task, "Write a paper about the Alliances," "Write a poem" "Write about your adventures" and I have no doubt it will be completed in a reasonable manner.

She embodies the element of earth. Like the spring coming and the winter freeze ending the glow of summer, Handy Pockets is as reliable as a town clock. As the mountain grows higher, and the canyons grow deeper, so too does Handy Pockets change consistently. Diligently walking on her path, "one watering session in front of the other." Who better to water mother nature's babies then one who is as diligently growing as them? There is no better. I, with the fire in my soul, cannot compare. Massive amounts of energy do not compare to the steady focus of a stream of water. Water and wind can erode at mountains, making them their sculptures. Consistent, the pendulum that is Handy Pockets swings back and forth, and I know, she will never falter.

Illusions in Golemus

Day 243: Illusions in GolemusBy Awiiya There was a time when magic was available to all. The majority of people in the realm were transported to Golemus Golemicarum, and for some reason, the magic was everywhere. We found ourselves morphing into strange creatures, and having strange armies. Our strengths varied, depending on our wishes, and a great deal of things went awry.

One night, something very strange occurred. While we were casually talking, most likely joking around, someone opened their mouth to make a witty reply... but what came out was "chirp." The others laughed, and he cried out again, "ribbiiitt!! RIBBIT!" Flapping his arms and running around, the poor man could not make a single word come out correctly.

Soon we were all on the floor, laughing at the silliness. Then one of us attempted to say something, and just like the other man, out came a bellowing, "RIBBIT." Shocked, we all found ourselves ribbiting, then croaking, then all sorts of strange noises. Finally, one of us made a move to run away, and hopefully retain our voice.... but WHOM. Our feet were all glued to the ground. What were we to do? Our feet glued to the ground, our mouths spewing noises fit for beasts and toads, we looked at each with panic in our eyes.

When things could get no worse, our mouths became clamp shut as well, and then we were in quite the fix. Stuck to the ground unmoving, the entirety of Golemus fell into a silence. A good twenty minutes we were stuck like this, our eyes open wide, and our bodies quivering in the skin frozen solid.

We stayed like this, until a green light erupted over all of Golemus, and we were free once again! But now... the sky burst open and rain poured down, and wouldn't you know it, the trees around us began to blossom all sorts of magical colors.

"What is this strange magic?" we cried, and sat down together.

"We need to get off this is.... ribbit."

And so it went, for an entire week, until we were finally released from our island of magical joy and fun, our throats soar, and our feet swollen.

The Girl With Too Many Thoughts

Day 245: The Girl With Too Many ThoughtsBy Awiiya There is a girl, who you might see wandering the land. She carries around a thick pad of paper and a pencil held at the ready. Wherever she goes, she looks around, sees something of interest, and writes it quickly down.

You see, she learned one day that the only way to prevent herself from... problems... was to write down things she learned. She did not always write them down. Oh no, one day long ago she kept all her notes inside her head. Going against the advice of those who knew better, who told her she would lose her head, she kept every bit of information she could get her hands on inside her cranium.

Sure enough, one day she was walking down a path, and her head felt exceptionally swollen. She tried to take a step, and tripped on a stone, and as soon as she fell to the ground, her head exploding off of her neck, spewing words in all directions.

"Oh dear! I have lost my information!" she cried, as her words and knowledge spilled out onto the road, and soaked into the ground. The fact that her head was separated from her body was the least of her worries, and she wanted that knowledge that she had lost.

A doctor came to see her, and began sowing her head back on her neck. She was fine, albeit she now wears a ribbon around her neck to hide her stitches. From that day forth, she wrote everything she learned down, and her head never swells.

Fear

Day 266: FearBy Awiiya Few times am I truly afraid, which is understandable. Most things are understandable, and because they are able to be rationalized, they do not inspire fear. But there are times when I am afraid.

There are two things that have made me afraid. The first is when someone I think I know acts in a way completely unexpected. The time that springs most to mind is adventures in the Sentinels, when Khalazdad would randomly begin raving, and haunting about himself. Others have raved similarly, and been insane for a period, and one such person is Granos. His stories and teachings of the Void reverberated under my skin, and made me fear that I would be swallowed.

The only other time that I am truly afraid is when I have done something wrong and do not realize it, such as when I have offended a friend, and did not know of it until they revealed their hurt to me. My mind becomes clouded, and I am afraid for them, for me, and for the future of us all.

Oh, there is one more time when I am afraid: standing on the tip of a mountain or point, and looking down. The way the hill falls steeply to all sides of me, I cannot help but imagine falling, and the imagination builds slowly until it is all I can do to hold my feet still. The drop is enticing yet deathly, the fall stifling and horrid. Fear of being alone in a height, but mostly of falling and having no one catch me.

My fears all stem from others, for who else but them can make me feel the most extreme of my emotions, such as terror?

Ket's Fight

Day 268: Ket's FightBy Handy Pockets There were whispers over the land, vibrations of spells, rumblings of battle. Liberty declared war. Battles were fought, covert plans carried out, anger with a rival. He has a hunger for redemption. I felt compelled to join Liberty, I expect few to understand. My decision is not influenced by strength of creatures, but by my strength of loyalty to a man who as his duty to protect me, did for many days. As it was my duty to join him in his decision. With only a few days to wrap up my training, I made quick decisions. I endure in quiet, walking and resting, closing my eyes, and ears. I made my decision. Liberty sends me an invitation to join him. Time to wait.

Jump to leader is called. We still wait, as seconds pass by. Seconds never passed so quickly. I jump, there they are, the defenders of their land. With Liberty as leader we battle until we are spent. I leave this realm for other duties, and return knowing Liberty is not the leader of the Knights of Marind Bell. I did not plan beyond the alliance without Liberty as Leader. I leave the alliance feeling I did what was my duty, I do not regret one minute.

The Feminine Name

Day 281- The Feminine NameBy Awiiya There is an odd thing with my name. People will hear me speak, and know my name, and think, "Oh, what a lovely girl." It is rather unfortunate, because the "a" at the end of my name seems to tell people that I am feminine, and should be addressed "she" and "her".

In the early days of my experience here, no one would blink an eye when I was addressed as a she. I would of course, always correct them, and then they would hang their heads in embarrassment. Once redeneck even began to flirt with me, before realizing that I was in fact a boy, which was by far the funniest moment; his face blushed profusely for having flirted with a man unknowingly.

To prevent further occurrences, though, I went so far as to make a public announcement in December. I said, "I just want everyone to know, I am a guy!"

Since then, occasionally someone will call me a she, but a strange thing now happens. The instant that pronoun is out of their mouths, all those present will correct them, reminding the person that I am a "he." It seems that people do my job for me, correcting when it is needed, and glaring at those that mistake gender.

The Contest of Heads

Day 300: The Contest of HeadsBy Awiiya In my day, Heads Contest was a lot less of a contest. The first few days would consist of people scrambling to establish themselves and prove that they were interested in winning. Once the score got closer to the critical point, strange things started to happen. Alliances started to form, and people agreed on what position they were going to take. There was also a common theme of MR involvement, and the MRs could easily rig the contest to have whoever they wanted to win succeed, which is surely a testament to their strength.

Nearing the end of the contest, MRD would gather all those who he liked, and they would decide who would win. Once that was established, they decided who to pass the heads. Then the next few minutes would be spent passing the massive ball of heads around, and the winners were cemented. At that point anybody not in the top 4 gave up, and decided to just try again next time.

The Contest that I won, I formed an alliance with two people, only to be later crossed. So, I teamed up with others and started to fight. I attempted to push out those that had double crossed me, but they still won in the end, despite my valiant attempts to stop them.

Apophys was a particular opponent. He rejected my attempts at allegiance, and constantly stole my heads. We would chase each other across the land, from the underground, through Loreroot, and beyond. Days we chased each other, each stealing the others head. We had our friends participate as well, giving us warnings of when to attack, and when to patiently wait. I cannot say who for sure won the battle. I was the victor in terms of heads, but that day I lost a good friend. Had Apophys and I met under different circumstances, I am sure we would have bonded.

Where the Words Come From

Day 305: Where the Words ComeBy Awiiya Where do your words come from?

Where do they indeed, where do anybody's words come from. There was a suspicion I had long ago, that my words started right next to my heart, in a place secure and untouched. They would blossom in the light of my gaze, and explode out of my mouth to the surrounding world.

No, they don't live next to my heart, though, that is not where I pluck the words of my songs.I thought they came from somewhere rather deeper, perhaps near the stomach, in the pit of the spine, deep away from the mouth. But then I dug deep in that area of myself, and found not my source but an empty, yet beautiful, space. I looked around high and low, under rocks, and beneath the sun, but I remained confused. If the words did not come from me, or from some oddly buried stone, then where did they come from?

I asked a person, "where do my words come from?" Rather matter of factly they responded, "From your throat, from your lungs, and out through your mouth. Your tongue aids the process as well."

No no! It could not be. Such simple organs as that cannot link such delicate phrases as I have others pronounce with great pride. My mind, then? Is this where these odd little phrases from nooks and crannies come? I looked there too, scouring the recesses of my mind, but found only memories old and soggy. New life does not come from old, I decided and went on searching.

It is on a day like this I came to sit beneath a tree, and an acorn plopped me on my head from above. That was when it hit me. I had been looking in the door, under rocks and within my crevices for the secret source that laid not hidden but blatantly obvious. Life is growth, and growth is living. My words come from none other than my overpowering and simultaneous urge to continue to grow forever into infinity. They come from you, the bundles of energy which grow along side me, the seeds we have planted in the earth, but above all from the constant striving to go higher, be better. Not from any deep and concealed place, down low and dark, but from up high, the hand reaching for the sun touches the sentences whispered with love and sincerity.

Creatures

Day 306: CreaturesBy Awiiya Creatures are interesting things, and one which we at first cannot get away from. The moment we enter the land, lacking a true physical shape, we come across these energies. Not really physical, much like ourselves, we take them on and bind them to ourselves. Our first creatures are often our most treasured, having grown with us from the very beginning.

Some people think that creatures walk around with us, but I find it to be far more of a metaphor. They grow with us in spirit, and when we have no more use for them, when we do not want to or cannot help them grow more, we let them go, and they give back all we have given them. The giving back occurs during sacrificing, and something that may seem sad is actually beautiful and freeing.

I remember my first sacrificing. It was a quiet day, and I wandered to the Fenth's Press. Seeing no one around, I had an instinct that one of my creatures needed to leave. It tugged at its ethereal leash, whispering in my ear of what it wanted, where it wanted to go. "Anywhere but here" it said to me, and I took its string in my hand, and cut it at the Press. A swirl of wind, that did not move a hair on my hand, blew around us all. The creature thanked me, and was gone.

That day I took the creatures that I had recruited my first day here and let them free, one by one. I pondered the significance of this letting go, and the moment although seeming at first malevolent... really showed itself to be a good and pure thing. They sprung forth from the sacred place I had kept them in, and kissed me on the forehead, all in succession.

Whether I helped them move on to somewhere else, or they will only thanking me for the company, I don't know. I keep some creatures, but I know one day I will let them all go. One by one they will thank me, and once they have all gone, I will sit down and weep. Although the moment is beauteous and pure, there is an innate sadness in the release, both out of pleasure and a longing for a space to be refilled. Once I have cried to myself over my losses, I will stand up, without my creatures, and I will continue on. No longer possessing the crutch of those that for so long held me, I will take my steps with my head held high, my arms ready to defend themselves for the first time.

This day, it is far off. I am weak yet, and weakness is a sickness not easily fought off. One day, one day, I will release all, and all will thank me with their kiss of joy.

The One Who Protects

Day 308- The One Who ProtectsBy Handy Pocket His soul, twisted and tormented, cold as ice.
Eyes, hollow and dark, filled with insects and fear.
Threading over the land seeking his rightful place.
Calling a mournful sound, wailing and calling, searching and confused.

She gasps,the horror she sees, as she looks at the ones she protects, as they protect her.
Why such destruction, how did this happen?
How could she leave them to fend for themselves?
Her heartache sends her walking, walking for the one energy she knows they need.
Her vital energy.
And once again she gasps, she can not walk for her creatures, she needs to be joined
with others who share her common interest.
What will she do? She calms herself and thinks of all her options.

There he is, he found her and he comes to her side.
She sees he is in need of his rightful place. He will protect as he is protected.
A decision is made, her walking friend will be bound again with a plan that will
keep him safe. He will protect the rest from destruction as they heal.
She decides it is time to find an alliance
and be the one who protects the one who protects her once again.