The Fallen Leaves Tell A Story

The fallen leaves tell a story…They tell of our sacrifice, the pledge we must make for our survival…Our offerings of worship, our offerings of life…Through our planes it drove. The shrilling cool wind of the coming autumn. With its passage came a change in the trees, and the slow fall of dry, withering leaves.

The falling of the first autumn leaf is a sign, a signal that the holy ritual is to take place soon.

Us children had naught to do around autumn time, all the ritual business was for the adults. But still, every year I would pry, begging my tired mother to let me see while she tended to her daily obligations.

“Quit your irking boy!” She would say. “I have no say in the matter. The elder decides, and he says no children allowed!”

“But Moth-!”

“Enough! Now begone with you!” She would yell before sending me outside.

This year, a curious mob awaited me as I defeatedly strolled out of the village washhouse.

“No luck,” I stared down at my feet, eyeing the cavity in the seams of my right shoe. Mother would have to talk Mr. Roland the shoemaker and get it sealed soon.

Crude little things those shoes were. They used to belong to my twin brother when we were young and small. Mother never told me how he died, he was here one day, and gone the bloody next, right at autumn’s eve.

The other kids looked to me, sharing my expression of defeat. All aside from young Briar, whose face lit up with a dangerous yet tempting realisation. He leashed his excitement and spoke to the group in a hushed tone.

“What if we just hide in the shrubs? Watch from afar,” he spoke as if he’d unlocked the meaning of life.

“But they’ll ‘ear us, won’t they?” The young girl Adeline interjected, a fearful expression on her face.

“Not if we’re careful,” Briar’s face contorted into a wide grin. This wasn’t the typical fleeting ideas of a child, this was a morbid curiosity that would do anything to be satiated.

In the end, young Briar, myself, and three others agreed to watch the proceeding. We’d discovered that the ritual would take place in two days, by the pit next to The Elder’s Tree, where the crone’s old shack laid.

The old crone was the one who’d perform the readings, tell us the will of the Earth, and the desire of Mother Nature. Her shack sat neatly next to the largest tree in the village, The Elder’s Tree.

The Elder’s Tree stood tall, its web of branches sprawling across the sky further than any other for as far as the eye could see. Its rusty leaves were darker than the rest, larger.

Every year, at the dawn of autumn, a leaf would fall from it and land at the crone’s doorstep, and she would read its fortune.

Next to the Elder’s Tree, there was The Pit. Every autumn like clockwork, it would fill with the great tree’s leaves, but us children weren’t allowed near.

“The Earth takes what we owe, but more if ye let it,” Mother would tell me. “Stay far from The Pit, Boy.” I never knew what she meant by that.

Evening fell, and Father Sun began to set behind the westward peaks, staining the land with the same orange found on the leaves. Myself, Young Briar and the three others plotted. We were to hide in the long grass just ahead of the pit once the adults left after bedtime, sneaking around the village outskirts and crawling through the long shrubs toward the pit. We did so right as Father Sun finally dipped below the horizon to rest, leaving only the light of the adult’s fire to guide us toward the pit.

As we crawled, we heard chattering, and we reached the outskirts of the pit just in time for the crones reading.

“What sayeth the Earth, wise one?” The Elder’s calm voice spoke. The crone was old, older than any other in the village, and her voice was no more than a cracking whisper. She spoke, and the Elder’s usual, calm demeanor shifted. His face went cold and his eyes widened.

“No, It cannot be…” He denied the words. “Not my Vivian. You cannot take her.” He began walking away when a woman reached out and grabbed him.

“It must be her! It is the will of the Earth!” She yelled. “You’ve heard the words of the crone, no? We must obey its commands, she must enter The Pit! Lest the winter come and kill us all! Freeze us down to our sins! The Earth will retaliate.”

“It cannot have her! It will be the end of my lineage!” The Elder barked back at her.

“The Earth cares not for your lineage! The Elder Blood does not die with you.”

The Elder shook the woman off before storming back to the village. A sort of subdued panic ensued among the remaining adults. They were stuck on whether to disobey The Elder, or the Earth itself, and were whispering to each other in hushed groups. A similar panic set in for us kids. We scrambled from the scene, crawling through the bushes as fast as we could to get back to our homes.

I awoke the next morning with a hopeful prayer that last night’s events were a dream, but my hopes were crushed when I stepped outside and my bare feet crunched on bitter-cold frost..The Earth never lies.

Just like me, every door in the village was open, and people stood in rows taking in the situation. The same look of complete fear paralysed each person that stood outdoors. The elder was nowhere in sight, and neither was his Vivian.

I felt a pull from behind me, it was my mother.

“Get inside Boy! and hide under the bed ‘til I tell ye to come out,” Her typical scalding was substituted for genuine concern for my safety. I didn’t hesitate.

I scrambled, struggling to run faster and faster, sliding under the bed and pulling my woven blanket over the side, shielding myself from the outside world.

The screams were piercing, and at some point I had begun crying. Big booming footsteps echoed up and down the village road, shaking the earth as they patrolled every street.

I sobbed for what felt like hours, paralysed by fear. The sounds from outside had long stopped, but I was still hesitant to get up. I called out.

“Mother? Are you there?”

Nothing.

“Is everything alright?” I added.

Nothing.

“Please,” I begged as tears began streaming down my face. My chest felt heavy and I started taking deep breaths as I prepared to leave.I got up, and ran as fast as I could, through the heavy wooden doors before throwing open the house’s entrance.

Nobody. No Frost, no people, no monster, just an empty village and the unmistakable marks of dozens of dragged bodies in the gravel.

“Where did they go?” I asked myself.

But I already knew the answer.

They’d been taken to the pit…I stood in total silence, with no idea what to do. That was when a leaf landed at my feet. It was wide, its colouring was a dark rusty orange, darker than usual autumn leaves. I picked it up, examining it thoroughly. I discovered I could read its words.

“The Earth demands a sacrifice.

You have fifteen autumns.

Bring us a new village”

Credit: Retrocowboy6343

Reddit