The Epic of the Pear Tree

Shimmering ribbons of crimson, mahogany, and platinum whipped across her face and shoulders as even the wind tried to defy her presence. Winter was in the air, the trailing whisper of the cold wriggling through her furs and nipping at her exposed skin. It did nothing to sway the determination on her brow, the fortitude of her planted heels, or the strength of the fire in her belly.

A deep timber broke the wind’s shriek with a firm and imposing inquiry, “Kings and gods have perished before earning my graces. What makes you think you will last?”

A spark of indignation flashed as her passionate gaze swept skywards, the massive white branches stretching out and up above her. She no longer feared them. She also no longer worshipped them. But she did respect them.

“The magic they were taught was meant to be forgotten long ago. And yet it still exists today, depleting our lands and desolating our people. I will last until the stain of their corruption is scoured from our world.”

Even the wind dared not comment on this bold declaration. None had dared to defy the Great One, none who survived anyway. The accusation unspoken in her decree would normally have called forth Thor himself from the heavens, but the Great One was not angry this day. This day, a fledgling raven had perched beneath his reach. This young one was not scared nor naïve. She knew exactly what the likely outcome of this confrontation would be, and yet she still came. A mere mortal dared to proclaim she would outlast not only the gods and kings who had come before him but magic itself. What gave her such resolve?

“Child, what brings you to me this day?”

“Great One, my people are dying, and if nothing is done, we all shall perish. This magic has infected us like a plague, rotting our minds and destroying our crops. Those who do not succumb to the disease outright will starve this winter as there will not be enough food to last.”

The mighty tree pondered this in silence. This human girl had come not to seek the source of this magic as all those who had come before her. They had sought power and immortality. They had sought to control those they deemed in need of rule. They had wanted only for their own selfish desires. But this one, this one who had suffered from their greed and corruption, stood before him seeking nothing for herself, but salvation for her people.

“What does the state of this world matter to me? I am everything and nothing. My life is not tethered to this place you mortals hold so dear.”

The woman’s mouth fell open in disbelief. This was not the reaction she’d expected, and frankly, she wished he’d simply struck her down where she stood for challenging him in the first place.

“You are the one responsible for us all! You are our guardian, our protector, our connection to the gods! And yet you have allowed this degradation to nearly wipe my people from existence! How can you call yourself our keeper?”

Lightning shattered the ground behind her, the thunder rattling her rib bones and pulling the blood from her ears.

“I have loved and protected this place as my own child! The greed of you and yours is the corruption destroying you, not my magic! It is you who are killing the earth beneath you! Once you are gone, life and magic will flourish as intended!”

The woman paused, having regained her footing. His words, while harsh and lethal like winter’s bite, held a truth one could only find on the coldest winter’s night.

“Perhaps, you are right, Great One. I cannot attest to those who have come before me. I know even among my people, there is evil hidden within. Magic does not twist: it merely exposes what lies hidden beneath. The earth is dying and the humans are greedy... But this does not break my conviction that magic must be extinguished!”

This young one held wisdom beyond her years. She may return as a true Raven, forever watching and guiding, whispering the secrets of the gods for guidance. But the damage had already been done. Not much could change the path this world was headed down.

“Young Raven, I cannot do as you ask. Magic is a part of this world. It is something that can never be removed, but it can be contained. Can you say the same for your precious people?”

She sucked in a sharp breath, the bitter wind burning in her chest.

“I would attest to that of my people! We no more want to harm our land than we do ourselves. This is our home! Why would we harm it intentionally?”

“Then I challenge you. If you can stay where you stand until the snow has melted and the promise of a new season has started to bloom, I will transform the magic of this place into fruit to sustain you during the trials of harvest season.”

And so the girl stayed, unmoving, her sword planted at her feet. Long winter nights drowned her in snow, and still, she stayed. When the town found her that spring, she had not moved. The spring had brought with it new life and the promise of a good harvest. The people were saved from the magic’s corruption and from starvation. However, they no longer felt the gentle shroud of their guardian, nor heard the lull of the song within his branches. And before him stood the brave human who had challenged him. Scattered about her feet and her sword, adorning her fur-lined shoulders and multi-faceted hair were bright white petals, the likes of which no one had ever seen before. And just as the Great One had promised, when the heat moved in to offer its embrace to their growing crops, a new fruit descended from his branches. The moist crispness of its flesh soothed the farmers from the heat and fed the people as a new source of nourishment and protection. The fruit from the Great Tree came to be known as pear, after the woman who stood for their right to live: Pearliav.