The Green Lady

The Green Lady

She morphed from the branches of the tree into her human form, as she watched the Great City in the distance evaporate. The wind commanded the movement of her green hair, made from the leaves and moss that were -- only moments before -- part of the trees in the forest. The trees rustled uncomfortably, warning her to step back inside of them.

“I won’t,” she spoke back. “I want to see what has happened to the humans!”

“They got what they created . . .” came the answer back.

“Can you see the humans?” She asked, ignoring the cynicism.

The wind picked up as the evaporation destroyed everything in its path. Thousands of voices called out. The trees rustled in the wind, as the clouds were clearing around the Great City and they all listened for the sounds of human life. The wind found the cries of what was left of the people.

“There are a few . . . but they will not survive.”

Acheehatzi called a shrill call, her green hair blowing wildly, as the winds and the trees tried to stop her. Hummingbirds and fairies appeared, as her horse came galloping toward her. It’s mane was braided with leaves and mosses, like those that made up her own hair, and it’s body appeared like the bark of a tree -- greys and browns -- and as it heeded Acheehatzi’s call, the small white horn growing from its forehead flashed like a bolt of lightning through the darkening, smoke filled skies.

“They cannot all die!” She called out, as she jumped onto Be’Lai. The winds whipped wildly around her and the trees called out to her, but she rode -- as fast as he would take her -- straight into the Great City.

The thickening air grew darker with each gallop of Be’Lai. He understood her love for the humans, but he did not agree with it, like so many of the others of their secret world. The clouds were low around them, and felt as though tiny shards of glass pierced them as they rode through. They began to hear the distant cries of the humans. Acheehatzi’s heart pounded as they got closer to the Great City. The scattering of homes that surrounded it were mostly gone -- evaporated like the people who had once lived in them. It was increasingly difficult to see just a few feet in front of her. Clothes and shoes, once worn by the humans, lay littering the streets, along with papers and objects that had been blown from whatever homes didn’t just disappear. It was so telling of their entire existence, that trash, dust, and debris lay with equal measure to the clothing they wore -- from which some bodies had simply vanished from history. She galloped on -- Be-Lai becoming increasingly weary of what lay ahead.

“I am looking for her, Be’Lai! The one I played with when we were both small. She is so strong -- I know she survived!”

“You haven’t seen her in many moons, Acheehatzi. She is probably long dead!” He answered her.

They communicated through their minds -- not with words, but with thoughts. They had long since abandoned their verbal language, in an attempt to hide their very existence from the humans. Humans looked upon their world as one of stories and fantasies, and they accepted their life in shadows and silence, for the simple reason that humans destroyed everything they did not understand. It was just their way. It was fear.

“We must try!”

Be’Lai rode harder going to a place they had secretly visited so many years past. The Great City had been reduced to rubble, with few humans left alive. They could both smell the death around them and feel the hopelessness. The trees and plants within the Great City had died along with everything else, but the house they were going to laid far to the east, and Acheehatzi spoke to the wind that carried them and to the forests that were her mothers and fathers to let her see if Mika’s house still stood. Be’Lai’s single horn flashed like a beacon of light through the dark, smokey air. Acheehatzi saw humans look at them as they rode through, their eyes widening in disbelief at what they saw.

She was borne of the trees, a beautiful nymph with green eyes, and hair made from the mosses and leaves that climbed the trees and adorned their branches. Her beauty was undeniable, with skin that glistened brown from the bark of the trees and gold from the sap. She rode Be’Lai, the strongest of what was left of the unicorns, because he so loved her spirit, from the moment she was born. She was spirited and strong and resilient -- and flawed. Her love of humans was dangerous -- for all of them -- but he knew he could keep her safe, so they became bonded.

They passed through the east side of the Great City and back into the country beyond. On a distant hill, she could see the rooftop of Mika’s home -- still standing. Her heart began to lift, as they rode, almost leaving the ground. Great gusts of wind blew up against them.

“Let us pass, Fathers and Mothers of the air! I seek only to help a friend!”

Be’Lai lowered his horn and they rode through -- up the hills and to the house where Acheehatzi had met the little girl named Mika -- Mika, who had kept her secrets for many years, telling only fairy tales to her children and to her grandchildren -- never mentioning a word of it to her husband. They approached the house, set deeply into the trees and hidden from most of the outside world. Be’Lai jumped, soaring into the air and landing past the trees, in a small brook in front of the home. The flowers that had once adorned the inner courtyard of Mika’s home were dead, and the brook was mostly dried up. The house had fallen into disrepair, and part of the walls and ceiling had collapsed into the interior. Acheehatzi jumped from Be’Lai’s back and rushed toward the house, calling for Mika.

“Are you here? Mika!! My friend! Are you alive??”

The silence in the house was louder than the worst windstorm. Acheehatzi could feel a sinking feeling inside of her. As she moved swiftly through the home, she entered what had once been a room filled with plants, toward the back. The ceiling and a wall had caved in and she sensed Mika. She pulled debris from the floor, following the weakening thoughts of her friend. She heard a whisper, and lifted a piece of the ceiling, finding Mika there -- beneath. Her tiny body was crushed, but her eyes were open. Her kimono was covered in blood and Acheehatzi looked upon her with such desperation.

“No!! Mika!! No!!”

Mika smiled up at her beautiful, powerful friend. “You came for me, Achee,” she whispered. “I knew you would come!”

Acheehatzi dropped to her knees and gathered up the old woman. “I told you we would be together for eternity!”

“Eternity has arrived for me, my friend.”

“No! Mika! We can help you! We can save you!”

Mika writhed in pain “Put me down, Achee. I need you to do something for me. The end of humanity is upon us and most of us have already perished. This apocalypse has devastated our planet --”

“Mika, the end of time came long ago. But you and I -- we have thrived! We have shown our races that we can live together!”

“No Achee,” Mika whispered, her eyes straining to stay open. Her hand was clutched tightly closed around a small object. “We only proved that you and I could be friends and could transcend the poison of the human race. You are right. Your apocalypse came many centuries ago.”

Acheehatzi hung over her friend, trying to protect her, aching for her inability to mend the little broken body. The dark grey clouds that stabbed like a million needles were moving in through the broken ceiling, as if they had followed Achee to the home, in order to take everything from her. Mika was dying, and Acheehatzi could feel Be’Lai outside, anxious for her to return. They needed to get away from the darkness. Mika’s clenched fist dropped open, revealing a tiny, gold heart-shaped locket.

“This is for you, my friend. I need you to find the child in this locket. She is my granddaughter -- and she knows about us. My children took her from here because I told her you were real. They thought I was losing my mind, and so they took her far away.”

Acheehatzi began to cry, the golden sap dripping from her green eyes. “She -- she knows who I am?”

“Yes . . . my friend . . . That’s . . . why . . . they took her from me.” Mika’s eyes closed and her breathing slowed. “I . . . can feel her life still . . . Achee . . . Feel her! She is me! Her name is Tree-Ati. Find her and take her to your home . . . Please Achee . . . For me . . . Her picture is here, inside this locket . . .”

Acheehatzi opened the little heart, and saw the image of a smiling child, with straight, black hair, worn long at the back and cut short over her deep, large brown eyes.”

“Tree-Ati,” Mika whispered again. “I named her for you, so when you call to her, she will know she is safe.”

Mika’s eyes closed slowly, for the last time.

Be’Lai had moved to the open wall of the house. “Acheehatzi, we must go. The poison clouds are upon us.”

She took the locket from Mika’s hand and kissed her gently on the forehead. “Good-bye, my friend,” she whispered. She jumped on Be’Lai and they rode as fast as they could, the poisonous cloud enveloping Mika’s house behind them.

“We travel to the east, Be’Lai, to find Mika’s granddaughter. She knows who we are.”

What was left of human earth was scorched and ugly, and filled with a smell that could only mean death. The cities were all gone -- at least the ones that were anywhere within hundreds of miles of the forest outside of the Great City. People’s bodies lay strewn about, as if they were ragdolls, and in other places, there were only shadowed imprints of what was once a person. Acheehatzi’s heart was angered by their carelessness. And Be’Lai talked to her as they rode on, reminding her that her belief in humanity -- her greatest flaw, is what brought them together.

The came to the edge of the sea, where boiled fish and other creatures had washed up on the shore. In the distance, she could see an island, standing steadfastly, against a dark horizon.

“She is there, Be’Lai,” Acheehatzi said. “I feel Mika’s spirit in her. Tree-Ati is on that island.”

Be’Lai, once again lowered his horn, parting the waters of the sea, enough for him to glide through. Swimming toward the island, the waters began to cool, ever so slightly. As they stepped on the shore, Acheehatzi looked into the locket again, memorizing the face that looked so much like the child she had met almost ninety years earlier. They raced through the island, calling out to Tree-Ati, passing a handful of empty homes and a few animals, wandering in the pathways that made their way throughout the island. They came around a bend in the road to a small clearing, where one, lone cottage stood.

Acheehatzi climbed off Be’Lai’s back, and they walked side by side to the cottage door, and pushed it open . . .

“Tree-Ati?”

She stepped inside, still clutching the little gold locket in her hand. Be’Lai stood behind her, unable to enter the small space.

She took a few more steps inside . . . and the locket dropped to the floor . . .