Sandal Wood Tales I

The eyeless trees:

summer sky slid away,

slowly the sandal wood shadow stood

they lived in dreams, in real drowned by shadows

beneath the dark and behind the terrain

full of voices shut by silence

the fertile land and the timid clouds

pour down as the sweat in the leaves retreat

Rain smells as good as sandal wood

seldom told, is the story of the woods.

Sandalwood grove, bathed in the dim glow of a retreating sun

Whispers hung heavy in the air, as though the trees themselves were burdened by stories too dark to tell.

forgotten secrets that the wind dared not carry

a figure neither man nor beast but something caught between realms.

Laughter turned to screams, of faces seen in the bark, and voices that mimicked loved ones calling from the shadows.

Kaamya's essence lived in the scent of the wood, intoxicating those who dared to cut it down, drawing them into dreams from which they never returned.

a name murmured only in hushed tones.

The village that once thrived near its borders shrank into oblivion.

beneath a moon veiled by timid clouds, afraid of the smell that should never be pronounced.

It arised from the rain, fragrant and warm, dripped not only from the leaves but seemed to seep from the trees themselves.

there were tears and cries from the eyeless trees.

A lone traveller, drenched and weary, probably of blood. His thirst weren't for water but, the blood of the heartless trees. It is to be pondered does the tree not have a heart or the man himself?

He stumbled upon the grove, he lit a fire to dry his soaked belongings. The faint crackle sent shivers through the grove, and the smell of burning sandalwood filled the air.

he smoke curled upward, it began to take form, twisting into shapes—a woman with hollow eyes, a child clutching a broken doll, a faceless figure with outstretched arms.

as the visions played out, each one more vivid, more horrifying than the last.

Then came the voice, soft as a breeze yet heavy with command:

"You burn what binds me. What brings you here, to awaken what sleeps?"

The fire flickered, Beneath his feet, the earth seemed to hum, a deep resonance that grew louder until it became a rhythmic pulse.

when he really wanted to run away, his body betrayed him. He was rooted to the spot, his breath shallow, his heart pounding in time with the pulse of the grove.

Kaamya's form emerged from the smoke, towering and ancient, its eyes like pools of liquid amber. "The woods remember," it said, "what men forget. Will you hear their story, or will you become one?"