The wizard hissed in anger,
"What can this oak tree be,
I've done my worst to this young girl,
And yet she will not flee."
"Charity, your helpless,
There's no-one left but me,
I don't know why you choose to fight,
For that silly tree."
"Now that you have nothing,
No family, you are alone.
I'll give you a choice on this day,
Trade that small tree for home.
"I've tried to speak it out from you,
Tried to freeze you, too.
I've even taken all you know,
What is there left to do?
"All that I seek is to purge my fate,
This oak tree's destiny.
I fear your path is the end of mine,
So I tell you this truly:
"Give me the oak that you now grasp,
I'll very happily
Give you back all that you had,
And all they'll ever be."
She cried aloud from the void,
"I make no deal with you:
When wicked deeds from wicked men
Assail the meager few,
"What can you trust of those same men,
When deals have met their due?
I'll hold on fast. Forever, sir.
What evil can you do?"
And with that last, she shed a tear,
In mem'ry of what she knew.
And when it struck the oaken trunk
It blossomed and it grew.
It's roots reached out to nowhere,
It stretched into beyond.
The branches loomed and acorns sprang,
A light grew where they spawned.
It filled the void with brightness,
No shadow could be seen.
When the light had come to fade,
Thorn stood where it had been.
The man took up the scroll,
Inspected what it was:
The greenest patch of nature's own
Had sprouted on his cause.