A Hermit Named Mervin

Legend of a hermit lived a little village outside of the Badwood Forest. In recent times, few good things came out of this dainty town. A bad spirit loomed over the few homes and businesses, believed to have been cursed by dark magic back in the civilizations beginnings. Let’s just say the truth got a bit lost in the woods, but magic certainly lived within the swamp. One legend kept people around, and soon you’ll see why. You could say the reward was as good as one of pirate bounty or stumbling on a gold mine, yet you couldn’t seem to find a soul who knew of the reality. Meer speculation loomed around, but the mystery was enough to keep people going. Men were driven to stay here, believing if they found it, their life as well as future generations would be bountiful. Endless money equated with endless power in a town where these two possibilities seemed an impossibility, there was a worthy cause. As the story goes, a guy named Mervin became a hermit after becoming the town's scapegoat. Growing up in the Badwoods, his life was good. Industry was booming in the town of Bitterbrew, as the Balabac River came on the map for production of root wine and beer stemming from seepage in the boggy roots of the swamp. Known to have a quality of euporia and glee when consumed, people fought tooth and nail to get their hands on this magic. Occupants labored day and night to keep up with the demand, but the good times would not last. As greed welled in the heads of undeserving tree tender’s, unsustainable harvesting preceded the trees growing black. Production continued, as the farmers did not have another opportunity for profit in the swamp, but the root no longer provided ethereal qualities to those who consumed it. Demand plummeted, and without answers from Mervin, the only botanist around, someone had to be blamed. Hunched from year in the lab and detested for his inability to solve the dilemma, Mervin was blamed for the change within the trees. Labeled a witch and villain of the town, he decided to flee into the woods with nothing but a cane and a little black book. Anyone who spoke his name was cast away. Down the Balabac they were sent on a shanty boat, and the river was known to consume many who found their fate left to it. Miles away in the darkest part of the vast forest, Mervin found a place he deemed undetectable. Hidden by rock formations all around and a cave system with only a peep of light stemming through, he grew what he needed to live and enjoyed life of solace. His friends were the birds, trees, and animals belonging to the forest. He felt no need for anything more. Never having much of a life, this seemed like paradise. How worthy Mervin stood to receive a blessing, but nothing would make him leave the first place he called home, not even a gift capable of driving a sane mane to insanity. One girl, who never spoke his name out of fear, searched far and wide for Mervin after finding a little black book. Although writing was illegible, Celia could tell someone had written words, and surely the book had been placed in her path for a reason. Her head ached as she attempted to discern the book’s meaning. Celia thought Mervin might have known she was searching for him out of love, so this was left as a map, but what good did an empty map serve? See now, Mervin discovered the serum of the trees still served a powerful purpose after all. As he sat by a fire one day before being expelled, serum spilled onto the pages of the black book in his lap. The black liquid turned clear and vanished into the soaked pages. As he left it by the fire to dry, the pages turned black again, and an uncontrollable smile streaked across his face. What he would need this secretive ink for he did not know, but he had to acknowledge the discovery of this ink as meaningful. Having a similar belief, Celia forcefully turned the pages of the book she saw the hermit leave with on the day he was outcast. Maybe there was a magic word to say, timing of the day, or correct lighting from the sun. She did not know how to unlock this secret, but hope was not gone. Years went on, hairs turned gray, but something continued her desire to press on. And then, she slipped up. A grievous action by the standard of bitterroot was committed. In her unconscious state of dreaming, Celia spoke Mervin’s name. As she pleaded to be released, no mercy was given. Being the first perpetrator in years, Celia was cast into the river without boat. The rapids turned and churned, and tight was the book in her hand. After all, it was all she had, and the belief of Mervin’s goodness too powerfully resonated in her head. It was the dead of winter, and Celia, beaten and bruised had survived the easiest part of the new journey. She had to get warm, and fast. Using her skills developed over all the years searching for Mervin, a fire grew quickly. Moss and twigs made enough kindling to light the damp wood around. The book she had taken such meticulous care for over the years was ruined, Celia feared. Exhaustion caused her to fade into oblivion. The book sat by fire to dry, and soon enough Celia awoke to the awakening of the woods. Embers burned, and Celia’s eyes exploded into excitement. “The fire, the fire! There are the words I’ve been searching for!” A map it was after all. Her hopes were not in vain. For Mervin had been granted a gift unfit for a hermit undesiring wealth or fame. Celia, oh Celia, one day you will find me. The words were a mystery, for they were too dangerous for just anybody. Soo much I’ve wished to go out and find you. I see your love as true, but a hermit I am, fine without anybody. One day I was blessed with a seed from the skies. Wondering what it might be, I analyzed it for quite some time. Unlike another, I put it in the ground. Like the rest, it began to sprout. Year one, only green leaves erupted in the spring, but it grew fast and tall, year two leaves beamed. Yet this time it sprouted, I could not believe my eyes. These were not just leaves. Real money grew before my eyes. Soo badly the desire came to go out and tell the world, but then I remembered how they treated me, and I swore not to tell. Many times, you searched, and I saw another following your tracks. Although I wanted to tell you, I had to speak through dreams. It was not safe to disclose this location, nor will it ever be. Here is a map, by the river I know you found me. See the secret came from within the very thing that dispelled me. The serum served as a secret writing, unlocked through fire. Thank you for believing a connection with me matters. Here I am happy, but so much money has grown. This map will show how to find me, and I know you will use these resources to change the world. Celia believed she had to be dreaming. All along she had not chased the hermit for wealth. Money, she had never known, and she lived by herself. How much money could this possibly be, she thought. Then she let the thought come to pass. She just wanted her moment with the hermit to come, and finally, it could be seen at last. Hidden so well, it’s no wonder so much time passed. Mervin would not be found again without a map. There she stumbled upon the cave. It was as if Mervin knew. He came out from the ground and grinned, no longer hunched and even younger than she had remembered him. His words, written many years in the past, still stood, but the desire for love grew as he saw Celia prance and dance through the woods. After years of singing of them being one together in time, they took their fortune and went out in the night. Legend has it, they ferried and moved to prosperous lands away; Celia and Mervin, money grown from a tree in a cave. The people of Bitterbrew bickered, as Celia sent money to build up her family that remained. Curse of Mervin’s name turned to legend, and one thing still looms around the Badwood forest today. Word of a money tree lives, and indeed it may be found, but only through Mervin, Celia, or the little black book, and they'd vanished as the dreams of this once prosperous, greedy town.