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.