A large tree stood. Larger than any tree there was, taller than the highest peak, and, in breadth, greater than any village of man. There it stood, weeping silently. It rested on a cool floor, pale and blue, smothered in a thick layer of ashes. Spread about the place were trees, identical in make to the great one. They were all leafless, pale things, pale as the ashes they lay on. The night was starry, and those stars rested on a shining purple sky. Starlight was the only light around.
It took me a moment to understand where I was. I thought I was atop a tree, but I was wrong. I felt I couldn’t move, and I realised I was a tree. I was tall. Around me were other trees, many smaller than me. Upon closer inspection, our bark seemed uniform, noisy, and flaky.“Hello?”, I tried to speak, and, though I had no mouth, the words came out.
“Hello!”, spoke a voice in surprise. I could have sworn it wasn’t my voice, but I was sure it was my own echo.
“Hello…? Am I alone…? “, I asked.
“Hello! I alone. “, it said.
I deliberated in my confusion for a moment. “I’ve gone mad, “ I thought out loud, “I’m speaking to my own echo. “
“I’m… Echo! “, the voice cried with desperate excitement, and stopped.
“Your name is Echo?”, I asked.
“Name is Echo! “, it said.
“Uhm, well, Echo, how… are you? “, I blurted out. I didn’t know how to talk to echoes, after all, and felt awkward about the whole situation.
“How are you? “, it said, after a pause.
“Hey now, Echo, I asked you first.”
“You first!”
That was a bit rude, I thought, but I suppose Echo didn’t have much to work with. I’d probably have to be more verbose from now on:
“Okay. I am okay. I am confused about the big tree, and I am lonely.”
“I am okay. I am… the big tree! I am lonely. “, it said, speaking slowly and carefully as if to not skip a word.
“Echo is the big tree? “, I asked.
“Echo is the big tree! “, it said.
I wanted to ask Echo a question, but I realised I couldn’t ask outright. If Echo can only echo back things I say, I had an idea.
“Okay Echo! I am going to ask you a question. I will say something, you say the part that is true. “
“Okay! I will say. “, it echoed.
“The trees are not people. “
“The trees are… people. “
“They are not in danger. “
“They are not in danger, “ it echoed.
“This is not real. “
Echo seemed to stop at this. Did it not want to answer? Did it not know? Had I not given the right words?
“This is real, yes, no, maybe, sort of?”, I said.
“This is real, sort of. “, it echoed.
“You, as in me, not Echo, are not dreaming. “, I asked.
“You are dreaming. “, it told me.
“I, as in Echo, am not dreaming. “, I asked.
“I am not dreaming. “, it said, painfully.
“The other trees are not people who are not dreaming. “
“The other trees are people who are… dreaming? “
“Sort of dreaming? “
“Sort of dreaming.”
I saw something, then. The world seemed to light up and liven suddenly. From the cool, dark floor arose… lightning bugs? They looked sort of like it, though much stranger. With them, flew ravens. In a flash the place erupted into a clamor of squaks and caws, the fireflies lighting the strange black birds as they flew. The birds’ eyes were glowing, and they quickly began to settle onto the frail and few branches of the lonely trees.
“Ahhh! “, echoed a voice in relief, “Good morning! It took you things long enough! “
“Echo..? You’re talking normally? “, I asked.
“Indeed I am. It is a delight to speak again. The birds say so many things in their own strange tongue once they’re awake- and I can choose the echoes that settle. Welcome to the plane of solitude, as some call it. My dream. It is a… sad place, when the birds sleep. You, and these trees like you, are minds. Sleeping or waking, afraid of your own solitude. It is quite funny, though. We’re all here, together. “
Echo ignored me and spoke with immense joy to her winged friends. I’m not alone. I felt a strange comfort fill me as ravens landed on my branches, their talons and rough skin scraping my bark. Then, from right beneath my eyes, I seemed to… flake away. Layers of me fell off in scales, crumbling into the same ashes that covered the ground. Other trees the ravens were sat by seemed to be doing same. Ashes falling, like… snow.
“Gargoyle, “ she spoke, “come, say goodbye to our new friend. They will be leaving soon.”
Approached me a weird blueish thing. It was small, maybe about five feet in height. It looked sort of like a strange wolf, though it stood on two legs. Its face was sort of flat, and its eyes were a pure burning white. It was dressed in an orange garb I may have even called rusty. It looked at me, though not my eyes, as I assume it didn’t know where my “eyes” were, and waved sheepishly. Echo seemed to chuckle at this,
“Come now, gargoyle, don’t be such a Worrywart.”
“Wait, I’ll be leaving soon? “, I asked Echo, normally, this time.
“Yes. You’d have woken up at some point anyway, but, I fear you may not come here again. I suppose that’s good for you.”
“Oh, okay. Farewell, Echo. “
“Farewell, “ it echoed.