Work Text:
There’s something you’ve forgotten. Something important. Something from home.
Something terrible.
A terrible truth. A secret kept by people far smarter than you, people who dealt in Wish Craft.
You look up at the Favor Tree.
Something tugs at your… no, not your stomach. The back of your mind.
Do not abuse the power of The Wish. The old masters said. It is a great and terrible thing, to bend The Universe to your will.
Take too much and The Universe will take its toll.
There is something you’re forgetting. Something about the Favor Tree.
Loop is staring at you, a question in their eyes. Concern, perhaps? You realize you’re breathing hard.
Abuse The Wish, and-
And what? You don’t remember what comes after that. You don’t remember why you’re supposed to treat Favor Trees with such respect and reverence.
You’re forgetting something. Vagaurde is forgetting something.
What were the rules? You close your eye and think.
One: it is a grave sin to cut down a Favor Tree.
That you understand. Favor Trees are powerful. They’re symbols of hope, want, desire, faith. It makes sense. Just as you do not deface an image of The Universe, you do not disrespect a Favor Tree.
Two: offerings are to be buried at the roots.
Again, that makes sense. Trees take nutrients from their roots. To feed a Favor Tree you would have to give it something at its roots.
Three: wishes are not to be placed with offerings.
That’s simply polite, you think. You don’t give something with the expectation of getting something in return.
Four: do not drink the blood of a Favor Tree.
That…. What? Does that mean the Sap? It might be poisonous, and you’re not inclined to check and test this law.
Five: never utter the name of the Favor Tree.
The… name? Trees don’t have names besides things like Favor Tree or Climbing Tree. To give a human name to any tree seems silly and childish.
Six: let the Favor Trees stand as a warning to those who would abuse the power of The Wish.
Why… would that be?
You look up at the Favor Tree. You get the feeling you’re being watched.
“Stardust?”
Loop’s voice rings like a bell in your ears.
You don’t look back at them.
The people of The Stars are prisoners of their own hubris.
And…
As are the Favor Trees.
You don’t think it’s a coincidence anymore, that the Favor Tree’s branches stretch to the sky like arms, or that Loop sits between the roots as if they’re sitting in someone’s lap.
You swallow the sick that burns your throat, and sit on the knee across from Loop.