It was known by many names in its time: Satan's Roost, The Corpse Eater, the Tree of Sorrows, to list a few. None can say for sure which name it was known by first, but what is known is that this tree had drunk gallons upon gallons of blood through roots that burrowed and stretched out in search of flesh long before it had a name. Even the soil in which it had grown was soured by man's wrongdoing. Tales were told of bodies being left on the ground in its shade to be consumed, the roots finding their way to the surface and burrowing into the corpse, feeding the tree until there was nothing left but clothing and bone. Man's evil does have a way of leaving its mark on nature, and far too often. How does something as seemingly harmless as a tree become so befouled?
Almost two centuries before Darc-Oros the Blasphemer felled the Tree of Sorrows to create his masterfully crafted objects of ultimate evil, among them the Bahz-Ma'al, there was a young couple, Luther and Sarah. They were indeed very young, and very much in love. Sarah gifted Luther a seed-pod from a sycamore tree, which they planted together, saying that like the tree, their love would grow and strengthen as time passed. In time, the tree was matured and full, and the young couple had long since married and built a house near the tree they had tended to all those years, a house blessed with three children: Odaiah, the firstborn son, Janelle, the daughter, and the youngest boy, little Samuel.
From his very early years, something was always different about him. He seemed to be angry at everyone about everything. He was combative and difficult, to say the least, and his older siblings had a very hard time dealing with him. The one thing that was most noticeable was that his jealousy over his mother, and as he got older he became more and more attached to her, at her side every moment possible. He was the one who always helped her without being ordered, did more than his share, and made things as easy for her as he could. This did not sit well with his father, who felt Samuel should be out in the fields with him and Odaiah, not in the house taking chores away from Janelle just to be near his mother. They often argued about it, and it would end with Samuel begrudgingly gathering tools and doing whatever his father needed him to do.
After he turned fifteen, though, that slowly began to change. The arguments became more heated, with Samuel's side sounding less like the complaints of a disgruntled child and more like the contempt of a bitter rival. He had grown to hate his father in the last five years or so as his attachment to his mother evolved into something far more serious and far more disturbing. What had begun as a child's jealousy had become a young man's carnal desire, and his father was now an obstacle to be overcome instead of a parent. Late into the night, Samuel would lie awake plotting how he might go about winning his mother's hand and consequently the charms and and affections that accompany it. Hours upon hours he contemplated, but every scenario played out in his slowly-slipping mind with his father emerging triumphant in the end, whisking her away in his arms, for their love seemed unbreakable.
It was nearing week's end, and once again Samuel found himself up late, pondering what it must be like to be treated as a man by his beautiful mother, when the realization crept upon him like a shadow across his treacherous thoughts: as much as he may have tried to deny it, gruesome and unthinkable as it may be, Luther must die before Sarah could be completely, solely, and unreservedly his. Come morning, Odaiah would be leaving for the marketplace to sell off some pigs, leaving Samuel to help in the rye fields. That, he decided, was his moment.
He crept outside to the tree his parents had planted so long ago and sat beneath its branches thinking, absently picking up a fallen seed pod. Looking it over, one side then another, a terrible, atrocious thought slithered into his head. Smiling a sick, broad smile, he rolled his fist gently around the seed pod and slipped back inside.
The next morning, Samuel was the first out of bed. He seemed to be in great spirits as he obediently loaded the small wagon with harvesting tools just as he was instructed, then hitched it to Old Barnabus, their farm mule. Once out in the fields, he began working immediately, as opposed to kicking clumps of dirt around and scowling for twenty minutes before even picking up a scythe. Luther watched his son in amazement and began to smile with great pride. Perhaps Samuel will turn out to be a fine man after all, he thought, and went back to his own work.
