Wake Up

 

The old man lit his pipe and blew an elaborate smoke ring. "So, you say you've seen a tree man."

"Indeed, I have, sir," the small Yunni said. Even seated on a fallen log, the man was taller than the Yunni.

"I have seen them too. Not near these parts, though." The man blew another ring and said, "I even spoke to one."

"They speak?"

"They do, but they prefer not to," the old man said. Then he smiled. "Old people are much the same, sometimes."

The Yunni waited for him to go on, but the man seemed content to poke around his small campfire. They were in a forest clearing outside the man's cottage. His name was not a sure thing among the Yunni, so they called him the Hermit. He seemed to have lived in the same manner for decades, puttering around his cottage and tending a small garden.

Finally, the Yunni said, "This tree man was walking and tapping on trees, almost like he was...well, it's silly."

"Like he was trying to wake them up?" The Hermit had a twinkle in his eye.

"Yes, exactly," the Yunni said.

The man nodded. "They do that, hoping to rouse their friends from the olden days."

"I want to show you what I saw." The Yunni unrolled a bit of canvas from his haversack. "It's not my best work. More of a sketch, really."

The Hermit examined the scrap of canvas. "Yes, I recognize this one. I knew him - or one like him - before I settled here. If you see him again, ask if he remembers Elzalore of the Lilly."

"Who is this Elzalore?"

The old man pursed his lips as if preparing to start a long speech, then he said, "Me."

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