Entwined in This Infinity

23. Pillar - Walter

The tree you are lashed to was planted on the day you became leader. You were unbearably young then, unprepared and shell-shocked as the whole of your people scrambled to you for guidance in the wake of your predecessor’s death.

You feel the same now, except with a dash of hopelessness, rage, and hatred thrown into the roiling pot stewing in your mind. You feel the same now, except a poison-tipped arrow pins your thigh to this tree trunk, and there is vomit congealing on your shirt front after the dizzying nausea of the poison became too much, and then again when your attackers began torturing your people in earnest.

You’ve met the Birds in battle before. Of course you have – the prejudice between the Boars and the Birds date back before history itself, leaving you little choice but to defend yourself when they encroach upon your territory.

Throughout your reign, you have tried to keep yourself and your warriors from conflict. They protested, fought hard against you when you refused to assist surrounding Boar villages during their wars. They shamed you and called you a disgrace to all that a Boar should be, but you kept them safe. You kept the peace.

The Birds must not have liked that.

The tree you are lashed to is young. Its trunk is as thick as your chest. Here, you have held countless councils, rallies, and gatherings. It is where you told stories and legends to the children. It is where ceremonies were held, and scarring its bark are marks counting the men and women who have passed under your watch.

Now the Birds circle this same tree with bodies. Circling you with your loved subjects. Some of their broken bodies continue to writhe in agony. Some call your name. Most of them are children, mortally wounded and thrown away.

The Birds are a class act like that.

When their leader levels her bow at your throat, smirking and satisfied, you deny them a flinch. But you can’t do anything to stop the gurgling scream when the arrow hits its mark.