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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2304393-The-Odyssey-For-The-Eternal-Tree
by Joseph
Rated: E · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #2304393
In a post apocalyptic world, Kat and Chris embarks on a quest to find the tree of life.


The Odyssey of the Eternal Tree


In just three hours, the Great War ended, leaving the planet in ruins, its atmosphere shattered by Titan missiles that had destroyed communication satellites. The sun’s relentless flares now scorched the earth, rendering all technology powerless and plunging civilization into oblivion. The world had become a wasteland, where the few survivors clung to life, battling each other in a primal struggle for survival. Hope, however, lingered in a small band of determined souls who believed in the ancient scrolls—a glimmer of salvation in the form of the legendary Tree of Life.

Chris and Kat, a formidable couple bound by love and fate, led this ragtag group of survivors. Chris, a natural-born mountain man, was said to have grown up in the woods, brushing his teeth with porcupine quills, wearing a rattlesnake for a hat, and riding a bear before he was three. Kat, his beautiful and fierce partner, was his equal in every way. Together, they were an unstoppable force. With a handful of friends and family, they embarked on a quest to find the Tree of Life—a mystical tree believed to bear twelve kinds of fruit and whose leaves were said to heal nations.

Guided by ancient texts and fragments of old maps, Chris and Kat were convinced they had located the Tree. But one question puzzled them: how could the leaves of this tree heal the nations when the world had been reduced to chaos? They knew they would have to confront this mystery when the time came.

The expedition began at the Ancient Hall of Books, a massive cathedral-like structure with high stained-glass windows, its shelves lined with the remnants of paper books. The rise of the cyber age had rendered these books obsolete, replaced by digital texts. Abandoned and overgrown with vegetation, the Hall of Books was a relic of a forgotten era.

Traveling under the cover of night to avoid detection, the group carefully maneuvered through the desolate landscape, avoiding any signs of human activity. Their journey took them to Radiation Mountain, a place feared by all, where no one who entered ever returned. As they ventured into the mountain, they were greeted by the eerie sound of a howling wind, though no wind could be felt. They stumbled upon the remains of an ancient village, its walls adorned with mysterious petroglyphs. Pausing to study the carvings, they deciphered an old tale:

“In the beginning, when the world was young, the Great Spirit created the Spirit Messengers—birds of vibrant colors and ancient wisdom. These messengers, each representing a different aspect of creation, guided the people through life. The first, with wings of gold, taught the balance of nature. The second, with feathers as blue as the sky, revealed the secrets of the future.”

Undeterred by the ominous legend, the group continued their ascent. On the third day, they awoke to the sound of howling, like wolves baying at the moon. The howls grew closer as they climbed the steep terrain, until suddenly, monstrous wolf-like creatures with human faces attacked, leaping from the cliffs above. One of the beasts pounced on Chris, but with a swift slash of his Bowie knife, he decapitated it. The stench of death filled the air as the other creatures began to feed on their fallen comrade.

The group, having anticipated such an attack, quickly formed a defensive circle, wielding makeshift weapons—spears, bows, and arrows. They fought valiantly, killing many of the wolf-creatures, which began devouring their dead, giving the group a chance to escape.

“That was close, Chris. What were those things?” Kat gasped.

“I don’t know for sure, Kat,” Chris replied, catching his breath. “Maybe they were once wolves, mutated by the radiation. Or perhaps some kind of twisted experiment gone wrong.”

“Do you think they’ll be back?”

“I’m sure of it. We need to find a defensible position, somewhere high up where we can see them coming. We’ll make more weapons, sharpen stakes, and prepare more poison for the tips. We can’t let them catch us off guard again.”

The group pressed on, scaling a steep hill, their eyes peeled for a safe place to camp. But the wolf-creatures were relentless. Hours later, they returned in greater numbers. Chris, Kat, and the others fought desperately, their weapons dwindling as they made a frantic retreat downhill, drawn by the sound of rushing water. Just when all seemed lost, Chris spotted a small cave opening. If the creatures followed, they would have to enter one by one—an advantage they sorely needed.

They plunged into the cave, the wolf-creatures hesitating at the entrance. As Kat scouted ahead, she noticed a bright light deeper within the cave. With the howling growing louder, the group ran toward the light, only to find themselves falling through what felt like deep water—a magical portal.

They awoke under bright blue skies, in a lush, green forest that exuded a peaceful aura. The wolf-creatures were gone. In the distance, they saw a large structure resembling the Ancient Hall of Books. As they approached, they heard joyful singing. To their astonishment, the hall was filled with cheerful people—the Daynites—who greeted them warmly and offered food and drink. The hall appeared new, untouched by time.

The Daynites knew nothing of the world Chris and Kat had left or the portal they had passed through. After a much-needed rest and replenishing their supplies, the group shared their quest with the Daynites, who spoke of an old legend about an enchanted forest filled with magical trees. The direction matched the map Chris and Kat had pieced together from the ancient scrolls. Could this be the forest that held the Tree of Life?

As the group prepared to leave, the sky turned black, and a fierce storm descended—unlike anything they had ever seen. The Daynites assured them it would pass quickly, and within minutes, the storm was gone. But so were the Daynites. The Ancient Hall of Books had reverted to its overgrown state. Undeterred, the group continued their journey, convinced they were on the right path.

From the mountain’s peak, they spotted a wide river flowing toward a vibrant green forest. This, they believed, was the enchanted forest. After a night’s rest, they set out at dawn, with Kat singing hymns as she prepared breakfast. Her voice, clear and melodic, lifted their spirits. A flock of large, strange-looking birds flew overhead, circling back to land in the trees near the camp.

As Chris stepped away to relieve himself, he heard a voice. One of the birds had spoken to him.

“That’s a pleasant sound your wife is making,” said the bird.

Chris, startled but not frightened, replied, “Kat has a beautiful voice.”

The bird introduced itself as Goldar, leader of the Spirit Birds from the ancient world. Intrigued by the strangers and their stories, Goldar and his flock promised to keep watch over the group as long as Kat continued to sing. Chris, grateful for the offer, knew they had gained valuable allies.

Finally, the group reached the border of the enchanted forest, separated from it by a wide, calm river. After scouting up and downstream, they found no safe crossing point. Determined, they decided to build a raft from a nearby bamboo thicket. As they worked, the peaceful forest was suddenly disturbed by the distant sound of barking—fierce, wild, and growing louder.

The group hurriedly finished the raft, pushing it into the water just as a pack of enormous Hell-dogs emerged from the trees, snarling and snapping at their heels. The raft, though hastily constructed, held together as they paddled into the river. The Hell-dogs followed along the bank, their glowing eyes fixed on the group.

The river was deep and wide, with no visible bottom. As night fell, the current grew swifter, the water churning into whitecaps. A freezing mist enveloped them as they fought to control the raft, but the river had other plans. The once-gentle current became a raging torrent, dragging them toward the sound of a waterfall.

“Hold on to something!” Chris shouted as the raft bounced off rocks, spinning wildly in the whitewater. Despite their efforts, they couldn’t escape the river’s grasp. The waterfall loomed ahead, its roar deafening. The raft splintered against the rocks, and the group was thrown into the icy water, struggling to stay afloat.

Just as they were about to be swept over the edge, Goldar and the Spirit Birds appeared, their feathers glowing with an otherworldly light. The bright portal reappeared, and with one final effort, the group swam toward it, plunging through the light and landing back at the Ancient Hall of Books.

But this time, it was different. The Hall was no longer ancient, and the world was not yet ravaged by war. Goldar explained that the Great Spirits had granted the group a second chance—to return to a time before the fall of civilization, with the power to persuade the people of the world to choose peace over destruction.

With newfound determination and the blessing of the Spirit Birds, Chris and Kat prepared to embark on a new mission. Their quest for the Tree of Life had led them to an even greater purpose: to save humanity from its own self-destruction.

© Copyright 2023 Joseph (cuzzinjoe at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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