Place your hand against the tree and ask for one thing, if you are of a pure heart you will be granted your desire. The wishing tree had stood the test of time, historically and in myth. Today though the dream ends as a young lady named Roe of the Dean sets her sights upon its large, ancient trunk. The villagers have heard of her coming and her mission. They now create a barrier of fearful people around the tree. Nothing can stop the Roe of the Dean though and she passes through the masses like mist through a valley. The people watch in silence as she approaches the tree. Places her hands upon the rough bark. She mutters in a long forgotten language. The world seems to take a breath and then a shudder from below the earth scatters the villagers in fear. The tree flashes bright and vanishes in a blink. Replaced by a limbless, faceless shape, man looking but otherwise beastly and unknowing. The Roe of the Dean unsheathes a large, pointed stake from beneath her cloak and drives it into the beasts chest. The pale fleshlike skin covering the creature seems to crack and go red with heat, heating up with a fury. Until a demon fire seems to fill the space and burst into the air as a lava. The heat and fire cease then, and red leafs now fill the air, raining down on the spot where the wishing tree once stood. As the Roe of the Dean departs the once sacred spot a lone, old man nervously approaches her “why?” He asks, quivering, tears streaming down his face. The lady stops and regards the man sadly “I wished to avenge the death of my family” she says softly, she then walks away to another life.

If you stay quiet you can hear their faint cries, Trapped in the tree of ages the children are doomed to die. Lured by its irresistible kites entangled in long reaching fingers, the tree of ages lies in wait to turn dreams into burnt cinders. The trap has been set the tree lies in wait, to snatch the poor children and seal their fate! consigned to the dungeon of darkness and damp, they had given up hope of ever gaining their freedom! Until the lady of life glowing yellow and bright, approached the tree in the dead of night! Uttering verses of vigorous intent the tree began to recoil and shrink into its roots, with no heart to fight! Out stepped the children of the night shaken but alive happy again to fly their kites !!

Tree of wishes, branches of wonder. Dark, gnarled fingers reaching, grasping at wishes. Colourful like a parade they dangle. Thin strings dancing in a wind felt upon no mortal flesh. She approaches the tree, mind of nothing, halo of gold. Cloaked, a figure that vanishes at the murkiest corners of your eyes, perception failing you.

It leans, frozen with inaction. A structure, held between the states of life and death, half-standing half-falling. Purgatory. Hands, not gnarled, but dark, nonetheless, pluck a wish, it’s tattered remains through which she can see the means to its end. Babbles turn into whimpers as the kite turns into ash. Such an infantile wish stood naught a chance against cynical flames.

There is a legend in my village of a tree where wishes can come true. I remember first hearing the tale from my grandmother who told me the tree was blessed by an angel, at the time I believed it but now that I'm older I'm not so sure. Though now I have a reason to search after such a tree, now that I have children of my own.

After my wife and I were married we had our daughter not long after, she's an energetic child and has always been happy and healthy. Our son, however, has not been so lucky he was born with a rare condition one that makes it difficult to breathe. The doctor of our village told me he would get worse as he grew older. It's his fourth birthday soon and I'm scared it may be his last.

I spoke with my wife about the tree saying that if the stories are true then it could help our son. She agreed to let me search for it but made me promise to return before his birthday. I packed a few days rations along with a lantern among other things I deemed useful. As I said farewell to my family I entered the forest behind our home the same one the tree supposedly stood.

I left as early as I could however by the time I found the clearing I was guided by my lantern alone. This place felt different than the rest of the wood, an eerie mist hung about the base of the tree making navigating the roots difficult. As I carefully tread closer to the tree I saw many a message tied to its branches some with string others ribbons of different colours. I took out the contents of my bag searching for the message I had written. Once I found it I tied it to a branch with a piece of twine then I took to my knees to make a prayer.

”Guardian of the forest I beg of you help my son, let him breathe freely like the other children without pain.”

As I finished my prayer I gathered my things and stood up to leave, though as I did I saw something, a ray of light shining through the branches. I felt warm in the otherwise cold forest and I heard a voice.

”I have heard your wish, your son will breathe without pain simply feed him the sap from my bark.”

Awestruck I thanked the spirit barely able to speak. The light faded and as it did a glistening tear of sap began to roll down the bark. I grabbed my waterskin from my satchel and poured it on the roots of the tree so I could gather the sap. With that, a smile crossed my face glad that my grandmother had told me that tale and I left knowing that this would be my sons best birthday yet.