#ashen tree

[lizardofspace]

Made several monsters that are from the Ashlands in my story, World Of Magic!

All characters in this drawing belong to © Me @spacelizardwarrior

[endreal]

And so in the turn of the world

There were those who persisted, and when the Sun Serpent raised itself from its nest upon the Ashen Tree, hood unfurled to bathe the earth in its light, it passed over the Southern Wastes and granted those lingering people with a terrible gift - the blessing of Memory.

And the people decorated themselves in gold to honor the blessing of the Sun Serpent and in red as the Serpent enjoined them, to Remember the earth that had been lost to the Vine.

And the lingering peoples practiced lost arts. They Remembered, and scribed the Memory of the living so that it would not be lost to Time, and wove the Memory of the land—of the Wastes and before the Wastes—so that it would not be lost to the Vine. They became the Atlas-Bearers, ever creating and ever guided by their books and their woven cloth. Legends carried dutifully in their hands. Maps draped reverently upon their bodies. Ever wandering. Never lost. Always, always seeking to reclaim fragments of home from the Vine.

And among the Atlas-Bearing Folk there were those who were afflicted by the gold and the red to even deeper Memory. In dreams, in sudden insights, in visions unbidden they Remembered that which was no longer known. Remembered that which had not yet been. Some say prophecy tainted the very blood of the people of the Southern Wastes, others that it was inflicted by the Sun Serpent’s passage.

The Atlas-Bearing Folk, the people of the Southern Wastes, thus Remember for now and for all time, until the Sun Serpent’s passage returns it to the Ashen Tree, and the people are liberated from its blessing when the Ravens and Vultures snatch the last morsels of the Serpent’s gift from those burdened to bear it. And when that time comes the People will remain, with their books and their woven cloth and their record of Memory. And the red earth of Southern Wastes will remain, untended and half-unknown. And the Vine will remain, growing and devouring lest home can be once more reclaimed.

[neoplasticjunk]

"Cease. Stop. Have one thought for ten thousand years. Be a cold, ashen, decayed tree. A strip of white silk without words on it." - Zen Master Shishuang

[endreal]

Please bear with me. The blessing of memory is a terrible gift, and not one of mine.

In the beginning there was a tree, and in the tree there lived a serpent. The tree was lush and verdant and the serpent basked in its wide branches. Thriving in the embrace of warmth the serpent spread its hood.

The warmth turned to inferno and the tree burst into flames. The serpent, to save what it could of its home, took the inferno within itself. What remained of the tree was an ashen husk. What remained of the snake was searing light and heat.

The sky was dark, and the land was cold, and what once had thrived soon fell to waitful slumber. The serpent grew restless and arose from the Ashen Tree, writhing across the sky and unfurling its hood to bathe the land in light and warmth.

Searing brightness and flames followed in its wake, and the life burned, the land baked, and what once had been a gentle land turned to waste. Angered, the serpent continued to coil across the sky, shedding inferno like molted scales and Waste in its wake.

From the realm of the sky came great flocks of ravens and vultures, drawn by the serpent's anger and its burning wake. Each vulture pecked a morsel of inferno and devoured it, each raven shed midnight feathers and their wings darkened the sky.

The serpent traversed the world, a legion of dark wings cloaking its passage, seeking respite. Seeking safety. Seeking home. Thrashing a furrow of Waste in its wake.

After a time the serpent came back around to the Ashen Tree, and curled itself back inside the burned out trunk that used to be its home. Night descended, and the great flock dispersed.

The next morning, amid a cloak of midnight wings, the Sun Serpent unfurled its hood and arose again.