It was the time of seeding, every three decades the clan of Aberoth came out in their courtyards, mewling younglings and sulking adolescents led by their elders to take part in the time-honored ritual of the Aberoth clan. Ged eyed the flower which his father took off the low hanging branch, being very still and sure in his movements as if trying to mute his motion. Thern called Ged over to where he was now standing, cradling the flower in his palms and gently trying to part the withered petals, which gave away without a fight surrendering to his fingers touch.
‘Why even bother giving life to such a sickly tree’, said Ged feeling the trunk. All over the trunk, there appeared gashes from which once the sap had flowed, now dried into a deep reddish-brown residue faintly reminiscent of dry blood. It appeared as if the entire tree had been tortured and bled over the years and only a handful of its leaves remained green throughout the year making one think as if the tree was fasting.
Thern smiled at his child, ‘for if it was not for leaves of Rugroot many would die of infections if it were not for the sap of its leaves many would spend their life blind and in darkness, this tree gives us life.’ Ged had himself benefitted from the tree already despite his short life.
‘It's such a pity, a tree of such medicinal benefit should live out its years in a sickly pallor’, Thern stopped coaxing the seeds out of the flower, ‘have you heard of the tale of Aberoth the wise?’. Surely his father was joking, there was not a child born in the clan who had not heard of the tale before they even turned five.
‘Aberoth was the greatest mage who lived in the times of the great evil, an evil cast by Mirtagh, he used his wit and wisdom to defeat the great evil and had to pay the price of his life to keep those whom he loved alive’ parroted Ged in one single breath. ‘Correct’ accented Thern with a nod. ‘At the time of the great evil Mirtagh channeled his power and brought them into this world with the help of a staff, a staff made from Rugroot, it was this very staff which dealt the mortal blow to Aberoth.’
‘From that day on all the Rugroot trees went into a mourning, shamed by what they were forced into committing, it appeared as if each Rugroot tree lost its will to live, groves upon groves of Rugroot withered overnight in guilt and never produced a flower.’ ‘Aberoth’s son Jod, a mage himself and a master herbalist understood the pain and saw the sorrow in the trees which lay dying. He journeyed far and wide until he could find a single flower, as he took the flower in his hands he felt the dying will of the tree in its petals, he knew then that if this flower were to die the great evil will not be destroyed but only get transmuted, he journeyed back home and planted the seeds. He spent his life caring for the saplings which showed no will to keep living. As the years progressed the trees grew, despite their great sorrow they felt burdened by the kindness shown to them by Jod and in return gave him the gift of their leaves and sap.’
Ged had never heard this part of the tale, he could not decide if it were a good tale or a bad tale for it left his heart heavy. His father took his hand and placed the flower in his hand. All of a sudden Ged felt such a deep yet gentle pain that he closed his eyes and a tear escaped his eyes and fell on the flower. The flower opened its shriveled petals laying bare its seeds for Ged. His father led him to the end of the grove and Ged planted the seed, only for it to grow and once again flower into the hands of the progeny of the Aberoth clan, the people who chose to forgive.
