In the heart of the Ceder woods, a new Dryad was born. Wenie was his name, and golden was his hair. His skin was light and his heart was pure. Youth Wenie wandered around the wood.
“Alas, new one,” An old dryad said. “This wood’s now thy domain and do what thou desire, but remember one thing for your own sake. Never in an era, help a human,”
And so, Wenie roamed the Ceder. He talked to birds, squirrels, and otters. He protected their nest and filled their hunger. Most of the time he sat on top of the tallest tree and looked down on his world. But one day, all had changed.
A young boy, aged just like Wenie, was lost in the woods, knowing nowhere and having no food. Due to frustration, he spoke, “Isn’t there anyone to help?”
Shocked, Wenie was, by the plea. Yet, knowing what the old one said, he tried not to interfere. But his compassion failed and he was touched. With a torch, he appeared before the boy and led him the way. For the boy, he was the light and the way. Safely, he guided him back to the nearby village.
Then, the boy said, “Lord, with mercy, answer me. Let me know your name,”
“Wenie,” he replied with a smile and faded back into the forest.
Like most dryads, Wenie never aged but the boy did, along with his faith in Wenie.
After that meeting, he spread the news of a merciful lord, Wenie saving his life. And thus, the villagers built a shrine for “the Sweet Lord of Forest,” or Lord Wenie, probably.
The boy grew up to be the authority of the village which later grew into a small town, by the name Shamanon. He built a big shrine for Lord Wenie, the mighty god of forests in the town he owned. Hundreds came to visit and sought refuge from the forest god before hunting or traveling. And the once lost boy now a devotee, called himself a priest. The directly anointed priest of Lord Wenie. And as he died, his role passed onto generations. All of this happened while Wenie was playing in his forest. He did notice the strange prayers people chanted before they entered his woods. But he didn’t know they were praying for him.
Three generations had passed, and the temple had grown bigger.
Once, the Aryans came to invade Shamanon but were stopped by a bunch of bears they mistakenly awakened.
“It’s the miracle of Forest Lord Wenie!!” The temple priest preached, and the soldiers of Shamanon sought refuge from Wenie before attacking the rest of the Aryans.
In the forest, Wenie, however, was shocked by the bloodshed and drums of war. “Why are people in favor of killing each other?” With terror, he departed to a nearby forest. The Shamanonians, however, won the battle.
“Our Lord, Wenie, had won the Aryan war god!!” the priest rejoiced. Quickly, they sacrificed a lamb for the merciful Lord, the Lord of Shamanon. He became the patron deity of the town. Wenie did see a statue being built near the forest. With six packs and a broad chest, wearing a golden crown, and holding a golden staff. “Who’s statue is that?” Wenie said.
“Wenie, the Lord Almighty, the god of Shamanon, the tamer of forest, destroyer of foes,” He read. “What!!! Is that for me?!!!”
For the grand opening of the statue, the priest would sacrifice a dozen young lambs, and Wenie was disheartened. Why would these lambs be killed in his name? he thought. So, before the sacrifice, for the first time in a century, he appeared before the citizens of Shamanon.
“My dear citizen of Shamanon. I am Wenie. Just Wenie, the dryad. I am no god nor tamer. I want no harm nor sacrifice. Please don’t kill the lambs!”
For a moment, the people were stunned. What spoke of this little phantom?
Then, The priests’ reactions went like this.“Heresy!!” “This is blaspheming our Lord and Saviour Wenie!” “This boy is not our Lord but a devil in disguise!!” “Go away, ye devil!!”
Suddenly, people began throwing rocks at him. They spat on him and scared him away. They made terrifying sounds to ward him out.Never had he been called a devil or been thrown with rocks.
Being stricken with fear, Wenie decided to depart them. With the bears in a cave, he sobbed.“Perhaps, that’s what the old man said,”
After this incident, the cult of Wenie thrived even quicker. Now they have a devil to blame on. That devil, the one that appeared in the grand opening ceremony, lures people into disbelief, says the temple priests. That devil had caused man to divide among themselves. But not just men, the temple priests themselves were divided. It started from this incident.
One morning, a temple priest began praying without burning incense. “Halt, thou shouldn't burn that!” says another. “Prayer without incense is disrespectful! Thou shall burn incense to honor the lord with great smell!”
“I honor the lord with my heart and prayers and not by incense” said the first one. Slowly, a division occurred. The burn-first-one called themselves materialists and the prayers-first-one called themselves spiritualists.
Slowly, debates occurred amongst priests on ways of honoring the lord almighty, tamer of forest, the destroyer of foes, the one and only, Wenie. All happened while Wenie was helping birds to make nests for winter.
The orders of priests split and both called each other “the devil followers” Slowly, fights broke out and debates occurred.
The governors sided with the materialists, and made a law to eradicate all the non-materialists as heretics. They went from house to house and killed all the spiritualists.
The spiritualists fled to the edges and founded their own territory, cutting down woods from the edges of Wenie’s forest. Little Wenie disliked his new neighbours cutting his property. Yet, he had no will to talk to them. For he was still afraid of humans.
Then, another group of Invaders came and destroyed shamanon. They raided the houses and set them on fire. They slew everyone in their sight. After this Tragedy, the spiritualists blamed the Materialists for their lack of faith in prayers. And the materialist blamed back the spiritualists for their lack of offering to Lord almighty.
But since this was the aftermath of war, no one had the material to offer. Moreover, their faith has grown even stronger. Now they have seen how the Lord had departed from them. So, the spiritualists gained more favor and inevitably took over.
They now became too afraid to call Wenie by his name. Thus, they only called him “Lord” or “My Lord” . They became too afraid to recognise him by his image for he was so grateful and gracious, yet terrifying at the same time. They could figure not a way to represent the almighty, the creator, the punisher, the Lord.
Yet, within spiritualists, the division occurred and so were more dramas and devil followers.
Within the next century, there were prophets he never sent and sons he never parented. Thus spread their cult to other cities and states. Thus became the great temple, the second one rebuilt after the invasion.
3000 years later, Wenie, now stood homelessly on the streets of humans. He had aged both in experience and appearance, even for dryads. The last tree from his cedar forest had been cut down for the building of the new mega-temple far from Shamanon. Now, all his companions, the birds, the animals, had lost their home and so was he. And old he was, he looked at his own temple and sat on the shade of a tree in its compound.
And Lo, the young dryad of the tree came and greeted him. And as he sits, he finds a young boy from a pilgrim family from another country that came to visit "the lord" being lost amongst the crowd. He was praying to see his parents again. And the little young dryad, touched by compassion, helped the little boy.
“Oh…not again” Wenie muttered from afar.
.....
I haven't written stories for long, I know, sorry about that
Thank you for reading, my respected readers
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