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Right now, Harley found himself at the entrance of a garden temple. Only days before he had nearly been killed by a sadistic band of Murderers known as the Laughing Coffins. He had fought them at first, but later ran away knowing the futility of being killed; death is permanent. Lonely, Disorientated and separated from his friends, it was only by chance that he had managed to stumble upon a neglected path. It ran for miles into forests, through valleys and under a mountain, but never did he even think of turning back. Eventually it took him to the base of a gargantuan and fruit-laden tree. Harley sparsely had any supplies of his own left and he knew he would have to scale it if he wanted to survive. It took him 2 days and 3 nights to climb leaving his hands red, raw and bleeding. Late in the morning of the third day he managed to clamber up into the canopy of the tree and to his surprise, along with a beautiful array of fruits, he found a wooden garden temple growing from the tree itself.

Curious and in need of a rest, Harley made his way into the center of the garden; after gorging himself on the fruits of course. He saw that the temple was elegantly designed like a wooden cage, and housed a tree in its center. Harley was fascinated and walked up to it to examine it further and noticed the aura of the tree felt different. As if it were observing him, the tree began to stir and spoke directly to his mind.

The Tree: “I am Cherub, the Garden spirit.”

Shocked, Harley perceived the direction the thought projection had come from, noticing that it was the tree ‘speaking’ to him. Cautious, he replied.

Harley: “I am Harley Wood of the house of Shandilor.”

Cherub the Garden Spirit: “A Title? That’s a bit petty, don’t you think?”

Harley: “But you just … Why am I talking to a tree anyway?”

The tree ignored him and started to ramble on about something.

Cherub the Garden Spirit: “200 years since the last, another mortal comes…”

Harley couldn’t believe he was talking to a tree, but he felt that the tree’s story was getting somewhere. Not letting his expectations rise, he half-heartedly listened.

Cherub the Garden Spirit: “… And therefore I will grant you a single wish, if you vow to protect this secret garden with your life?”

In a world where humans were on the incline and where spiritual and celestial beings were on the decline, Harley knew that this was a powerful. He was tempted.

Harley: “Any wish?”

Cherub the Garden Spirit: “Unlike yours, my powers aren’t bound to the mortal realm.”

Harley thought about whether or not to accept the spirits offer. Pros and Cons came into his mind, but overwhelmingly he couldn’t help but remember what had happened in the days before. He had seen people he valued get killed at the blade of the sword with their throats slit and worse. He knew that he was still young, was yet to reach his prime and had already gathered respect and wealth above his dreams … but, right now he couldn’t feel anything but mortal. And Harley knew in that moment that he didn’t want to die before his natural time had come.

Harley: “I don’t want to die!”

Cherub the Garden Spirit: “Huh? That’s not a common one … usually its wealth or women. Very Well … so be it, just go and lay in that pool of sap over there.”

Harley turned and waded into the pool of sap beneath the tree. It felt pleasant against his skin as it, seeped through his clothes and soothed the sores all over his body. Eventually he made it to a waist-deep level, closed his eyes, lifted his feet and let his entire body get swallowed by the liquid mass; noticing the sweetness of the sap against his lips. As he lay stationary beneath the surface he wondered how long it would take for the ritual to be over.

Seconds turns to minutes, minutes to hours as time passed. He wondered why he didn’t need to breathe and why the spirit hadn’t given him a timeframe. Agitated he opened his eyes, which stung as they adjusted to the solution. As they cleared, he realized there was a change happening to his body. He saw fine pieces of himself float to the surface of the thick sap as his form disintegrated around him. He quickly brought his hands to his eyes trying to determine whether they were playing tricks with him, but his fears were intensified as he saw what remained of his arms leave a cloud of their former self. Harley screamed and thrashed his way to the edge of the pond; leaving a visible trail of himself behind. As he attempted to leave the pond his legs failed him and he fell backwards, softening the fall with his hands. Trying to get up he saw ‘his’ own reflection in the pond, as the surface calmed and cleared. He saw a girl looking back at him. She was a beauty with brown hair and brown eyes along with a small delicate, feminine frame. And it seemed his clothes had also changed. He looked down and saw two protrusions from his chest.

Harley: “No, No, No!”

He ran ‘his’ hands down his chest, ignoring ‘them’ as he made his way to his lower half. He put his hands underneath the white, lace dress ‘he’ now wore to investigate. And unsurprisingly (with all that had happened) his fears were confirmed. Distraught, Harley pulled his hands out and began to cry.

Harley: “What have you done to me?”

The response of the tree was distressing to his ears.

Cherub the Garden Spirit: “As agreed. You wanted immortality in return for protecting this garden. As mortals know women live longer than men, elves more than humans and elven women more than elven men.”

He looked back into the pond and saw ‘his’ ears. He didn’t want to be a girl, let alone an elven-one.

Harley: “We didn’t agree on that!”

Cherub the Garden Spirit: “Sorry, I was only fulfilling my end of the bargain by assuming that you, as a mortal, could establish the link between mortality and immortality. Remember you still have to fulfill yours. You promised to protect and guard this garden with your life, Hazel Wood of Shandilor.”

Hazel realized that beings both mortal and immortal could be jerks. Her crying reached hysterical levels.

Cherub the Garden Spirit: “Don’t worry you’ll get used to it, besides you have an eternity ....”

Hazel tried to respond to Cherub, but it seemed it had somehow prevented her from speaking. This hurt her further, but left her with time to digest what the spirit had just said and to wonder about what she’d just done.