Once in the woods of Mortis Forest, there lived a beautiful woman clothed in a gown of white, green, and pink flowers that I could never describe. For those breeds grew only in this enchanted forest. This woman was a witch, not a nasty woman with green skin or ugly cackle, but one with flowing, curled, blonde hair and fair skin the color of a peach cream. She looked like an average human but was more beautiful than anyone could ever imagine and had no physical flaws. She had eyes as green as the woods she lived in and a sweet honey laugh. Her only companions were the creatures living in the forest and trees around her. She nurtured them with her powers. She was no ordinary witch; she was a tree witch. She cared for the forest and all its creatures. She gave life to the forest and it gave life back to her. This tree witch, like all other tree witches, were immortal to everything except mortal wounds and the forest they lived in dying. Most tree witches were quite content with eternal life so they, including the one of Mortis Forest, kept the forest alive. This one lived in the branches of her favorite trees: the large oak in the center of the forest's western-most clearing. Still, it was some miles to the nearest exit as well as the town near it. People feared these woods along with everything in it, including our tree witch. Though more joyful and light-hearted, tree witches can be just as dangerous, if not more, than other varieties of witches. Some men who had sometimes walked past the forest at their cities' borders had sometimes heard a singing in the forest, a warm and bright voice that reminded most of fairytales of old told by their parents as consolation to nightmares or bad days. No one ever found out who exactly was singing in the woods beyond for not only was it forbidden, it was dangerous.
One day, a young man by the name of Nithron, or Evan in the olden tounge, had broken the town's singlemost important rule: stay away from the forest. He had dark hair that was often pulled back into a ponytail so that it would not interfere with his work. His black eyes meant not sheer coldness but enveloped a warmth uncomparable to any fire. He was average height with fair skin. Nithron traveled to Esgarth's edge during the middle of the night and took his sword made from folded steel and was certainly the finest material one could make a sword out of in those days and parts of the world. He was to be married to Thandeil, the blacksmith's esteemed daughter. It was an arranged marriage that was unjust for neither were in love with each other. Anyway, Nithron strolled into the forest as a sanctuary from his arranged marriage to Thandeil. After the long hours of the night, he finally fell sound asleep and woke by mid-morning. When he awoke, he continued farther into the forest. He came across a small, dirt path with flowering trees on either side blooming pink cherry tree petals. At least they looked like pink cherry tree petals but the tree's trunk was more the type of mahogany therefore showing they were no ordinary trees. They, like the previously mentioned tree witch's flowered dress, were native only to Mortis Forest. Everywhere else, the trees grew haphazardly in the forest except on this path where they were all in some odd symetrical pattern.
That's when he saw her and instantly, he fell in love. The tree witch, who was curious for she had never seen any other humaniod other than herself, was hiding, poorly hiding I might add, behind one of the tree's trunks. She was giggling at his arrival for tree witches often have joyful natures and are in terrible agony during depression and despair.
He came over to the tree she was hiding behind and introduced himself. "Good morning, miss," he said slickly and with such charm that she decided to sneak up the tree as soon as he blinked his eyes for tree witches are terribly fast climbers. Still giggling, she watched him from the branches, talking. "Did anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?" he added sensually and slyly. He asked her, "What's your name?" and instantly, she stopped giggling and she dropped down to the forest floor from the branches of the tree.
"Celebria; what's yours?" she inquired curiously.
"I am Nithron, son of Dyremithor of Esgarth, you know the town right outside these woods?"
