Cecile wondered what it was referring to, when she realized she was tightly gripping the fruit of the tree. âOh, Iâm sorry,â she exclaimed, releasing the fruit. Still hanging off the branch, it swayed before her eyes. Of course, there was still a large chunk missing out from it. Looking at the appetizing fruit, she thought, âI shouldâve taken at least one more bite.â
The feeling of regret wasnât only because of how delicious it tasted, but also because there was something nostalgic about the flavor. It made her feel the need to eat more of it. She was about to ask if the tree would be willing to sell her the fruit, when she realized the voice that had called out to her had been filled with anger.
âIt doesnât like me.â The tree not only disliked her, it had also claimed that sheâd come again. That meant that Cecile had been here before. Yet, she had no recollection whatsoever of having ever visited such a place in her life. Deciding to start with the question on the top of her head, she asked, âUm, excuse me, but may I ask for your name?â
[World. Tree.]
Cecile was rendered speechless by the sudden introduction of an entirely unexpected entity. The image of the huge tree depicted in the book sheâd read a little while back at the apple farm formed in her mind. If her memory served her correctly, wasnât it the tree that was said to bear every fruit in the world? In any case, why was this tree speaking as if it knew her? Cecile felt the need to have her curiosity satiated.
âIâm sorry, but do you know me? But itâs my first time hereâŠâ
[You. Lie.]
âIâm telling the truth! Thereâs no way I would forget about coming here!â There was no way she wouldâve forgotten, especially the fruit she had just tasted. Even now, she couldnât help but sneak a longing look at the fruit sheâd bitten into that was swaying just out of reach.
[Arch. Witch.]
âPardon?â
[Must. Have. Erased.]
Cecile wondered what the World Tree was going on about, but she wasnât so bold as to ask out loud. At that moment, something suddenly pushed her from behind. With a thwack, Cecile was sent rolling forward. She yelped as she heard the sound of the branches that supported her cracking beneath her feet. âSave me!â She instinctively flailed her hands about and grabbed onto a branch. In that instant, the branch she grabbed onto shone and a brilliant gold light enveloped her.
âEh?â A different scenery, like a film reel, began to play before her eyes. In it, a small child who looked no more than three or four years of age was jumping around the World Tree. She had bright platinum hair and green eyes. The resemblance of the little girl to the reflection Cecile saw in the mirror every day, albeit younger, was uncanny. âIs that⊠me?â
Without a doubt, the little girl was herself. The only difference was the girl was dressed in an embarrassed excuse for rags, and her appearance was filthy. The child obviously hadnât been able to wash properly and had dressed herself in anything she could to fend off the cold.
âBut when was ever I like that?â Try as she might, Cecile couldnât remember such a scene. The maids that had cared for her in her childhood had loathed uncleanliness. They would wash her morning and night during the summers, and would always have her wash in warm water at least once a day in the winter too.