CCCL: Chapter One - Birthday Gifts

In the morning of Celeste's twelfth birthday, her grandfather took her on a trip.

It was a cold winter day, fog had risen alongside pale sunlight while the clouds still hang heavy in a overcast sky. Celeste walked behind her grandfather up a grassy hill with so little visibility that they seemed to be in a floating island among endless white. She minded her steps carefully while navigating the uneven path and found to her alarm that her grandfather had moved so far ahead with his unerring pace that he seemed close to vanishing. In her hurry to catch up, she stepped in a wet patch and fell backwards, closing her eyes in fearful instinct.

She opened them to find herself floating a few centimeters off the ground, the pink straps of her backpack grazed the mud below. Her grandfather had turned back, his ornate walking staff shimmered gold through the fog, and as he lowered its head down, Celeste's body simultaneously rose up until she was back in a standing position. The staff stopped shimmering as her feet touched the ground.

"Be careful."

"I'm sorry. I got scared I'd loose sight of you."

"If you don't know where to find safe ground, don't rush, take a beat a find the likeliest path. If that leads to a dead end, try again, but never rush. Rushing leads to mistakes. Mistakes put you in a worse position than the one you started"

Celested nodded. She had heard that advice before, many times, but it was hard to keep in mind when she got scared. She supposed the constant repetition was meant to make the lessons sink in until they were automatic.

"Come along. It's not that far now."

They continued walking until they reached a cluster of a dozen or so trees. Big and lonely they were inside the giant monotonous prairie that surrounded them. They were all different, smooth and spiky, thick and thin, curved and straight, flowering and bare, the tallest was the same heigh as a three story house while the shortest was just a little taller Celeste. She noticed that the fog seemed to recede in this area, as if in respect.

"Is this all of them?"

"Yes," her granpa answered. His tone was somber.

"The books said there were still like a hundred left."

"Your books are outdated. The previous Regent ordered most of them transferred closer to the capital. For "safekeeping" he said."

"Uh. Aren't they less effective in unfamiliar soil?"

"They work well enough for those who have to paid for them and those who own them prefer to import their tools, so its not a big sacrifice in the owner's eyes." His words were bitter now.

Celeste considered. "Is it right that I take one of them when there's so few left?"

"The fact you ask that question shows you have better morals than our leader. But don't worry, my love. Most have only a few charges left and are unlikely to reproduce without help. I come here every few weeks to look after them and make sure the ground is stable for future samplings. Your parents help me, as do your sisters. After today, you too can join us in the work. That's not extractive, its reparative, as long as you commit to repair the harm done before. Do you commit?"

Celeste felt like a grow-up when she said. "I do, granpa. I will help."

Her grandfather smiled now. "Choose."