The Sword Tree and Asha
At twilight on the seventh day of her travel, Asha was overcome with exhaustion and lay down to rest under a tree with bark of silver and gold. The ground was knotted with roots, but she was tired and slept regardless. When she awoke, the sky was still touched in bright colors, as if set on fire by the setting sun, and she asked, "has no time passed?"
She got to her feet and looked the tree up and down. It was knotted and clawed at, as if a great beast tried to tear it apart, only to give up. She ran a hand over a cut and felt warm liquid, clear and slick, on her fingertips.
Asha circled the tree and climbed over great roots and bumps. Her fingers slipped on the bark. Each step revealed more tangles and gashes in the bark. The liquid sap, for, Asha thought of nothing else it could be, stayed wet and never left the cuts in the tree.
"An interesting tree, indeed," said Asha, who stopped to knock the tree with a thump thump. "I've never felt sap that's not sticky or seen sap that doesn't drip from cuts. The way the sky is the same, even after I slept, is strange as well. There is magic in this tree, or else I'm an empty headed fool."
She reached the other side of the tree and saw the handle of a surik tangled in the roots. The handle was made from the horn of a beast Asha had never seen before, and hair of black and white made up a tassel at the end. Asha stared at the tree and wondered if it would answer if she asked. She set her hands against the bark and said,
"Tree, I am the queen of the Sapodillas, but, I do not have a sword of my own. I am taking yours as mine."
"Child, others have come to take this thorn from me, but none have managed to free me of my burden," replied the tree.
Asha looked down at the sword and realized how the tree could want it gone. She knew there was a way to get the sword free and save the tree and get this sword as her own. With her hand on the handle, she felt out the components of the sword and where they touched the roots of the tree. With a mighty pull from her magic and muscles, she freed the sword and held it up in front of the tree...
The story goes on and on...
Asha and the Walking Swamp
Asha sat in the swamp and crossed her arms. She had never spoken to a god before, but, given her predicament, now seemed a good time to start.
"God of Space, what trap is this?"
"Trap? There is no trap, little thief."
"Not true! If there was no trap, I would not be stuck in this swamp. I am certain it was not here yesterday when I went to bed."
"Maybe you shouldn't have slept where my swamp wanted to move to."
Asha threw her hands into the air. What a bother this conversation was! She had still seen no trace of the god and was frustrated by her conversation with the unseen being.
"I sleep where I want to!"
"And this swamp plays by those rules, too. It's sometimes drawn towards space items that make it into the wrong hands."
She bowed her head and set a hand over her heart.
"God of Space, I can assure you, anything that has fallen into my hands is right where it belongs."