1638

Quixleasel fumbles through the forest, hearing nothing from Squire any longer... "Hello?" He calls out, but Squire doesn't answer. The year was 1638, almost 400 years ago... but I only dare to look back upon myself to understand the gravity, the moral significance of my death and the threats it poses. Quixleasel's feet crunched onto the mossy forest floor, every step oozing with liquid spewing from the lustrous plants below him. He wonders if this was punishment for all of the peasants he had tormented, Squire must have secretly hated him and his ideals. Was it all planned? To dump him in this forest for the monsters to get him? Quixleasel takes another step towards fate, wondering if Squire will come to retrieve him. Perhaps not, however as the forest only seems to get denser. He thought he had been traveling north, but north seems to keep changing. What if it was? Getting home was no longer just a necessity, it was a nightmare. "Squire?" asks Quixleasel as he nears something of a shadow of a man. It had been a cold day, surely Squire had finally found him and was ready to take him back to the manor. But instead he finds himself next to a tree, it looks at him coldly seemingly holding out an object to him. It was round and blue, unlike anything Quixleasel had seen before. The tree seemed to have a face, warping itself into what appeared to be his own reflection. The tree in the woods had assumed the shape of Quixleasel himself. He stared shockingly, but his greed got the better of him as he was entranced by the glowing, blue orb. An incantation was spoken by the tree before roots shot out at his hand which barely had touched the crystal ball. "Q̴̩͕͒̏͛͜u̸̡̢̙̠̺̥͈̲̩̠͋͌̾̌̾͑͛͌́͠i̵̲̖͙̪̳̱̙̇̋̏̑̓̑͂͠x̸̨̳̜͓̙̗͙̹͙͓̫̀̂̎̔͌͌̿̒̂͆̑͝ͅl̸̟̬̬̤̠̣̯̽̅̎̍̿̓̋̈́͠ĕ̵̜̪͔̜̺͉̘̣̪̮̹̣̊̽̍͑̊͘ą̷̼̍̊͆̂̑͐̋̍̋̀͊̚s̶̡̤̤͉̱̤̜̫̝͔͉͐̎̃͗͜ę̵̼̤̻̟̘̦̬͓̅̅̍͗͜l̶̙̻͎̘̞͍͚̼̯̥͆͌̏͐́͘͜ͅ" It called him by name before he drifted and fused with the bark. His final words were "Squire, please help me." 400 years have passed since then, I still cannot seem to rid myself of this curse. Still, I am drawn to the forest... and back to that tree.