Aisling felt the cool foggy tendrils of evening drift over her pale form. Though she could not see it from where she lay, atop the giant gnarled roots of an ancient oak, she knew the sun hung low to the horizon. If she were back at the village, she’d be there at the forest shrine, watching it set. Feeling the last retreating rays wash over her skin. . Those simple pleasures, feeling the sun on her flesh, were at an end now, Aisling thought.

It would start soon. The merging.

Aisling lay now in a dimming gray. The smell of earth and humid breath of the living forest swell and release through the low branches and tall roots around her.

She felt it before she heard. A vined tendril touched her left foot. The first feelers of the tree has made contact. Curious. Unafraid. It coiled around her ankle and began making its way slowly up her calf. That young root was joined quickly by others on her wrists and around her waist. Aisling let out a startled yelp. It felt like her body was being slithered over by snakes, but it wasn’t bad. Warmth. A calming warmth flowed from plant to body. Her arms and legs were gently guided away from her body. It felt like she was levitating or perhaps on a pillowed litter.

As suddenly as they began, the vine-like roots stopped moving. She was immobilized, arms out stretched at her sides and legs straight and parted. Somehow in the flurry of movement, the garments she wore were removed. She was being held carefully but firmly, cocooned.

« You know what is to come, child? » came a voice in her mind. « Yes. » she replied. It was Ayma, Aisling knew. The spirit of the tree, who was once, like her, a mortal coil who volunteered to this tradition older than time itself.

« I am ready, Ayma, you may finally rest »

A feeling of gladness and finality swept through her body as Aisling felt the spirit release and flow out into the universe. If she could see beyond this cocoon of roots she imagined a glowing sparkling aura of contentment expanding out into the beyond until it faded into the night.

As Ayma left though, a new feeling awoke. Hunger. So hungry. The vines began to construct and move again. This time not gentle. Possessive. Wanting.

Aisling struggled against what she felt. They were like hands now, these roots, gripping and pulling. She felt her mouth part and a smooth bulb slide between her lips and felt another sliding between her thighs. Outside of the cocoon the wind picked up causing it to sway and rock. The bulb in her mouth swole and she coughed and choked as the rocking slid it in and out. The other slipped between her legs, sliding in and out with the wind. She was panicking. Her muscles struggled against those intrusions.. but there was something else. Building within her. It started as tingling in her toes but slowly grew until she could not help but sway and move with the brutal thrusting she felt from both ends. Suddenly everything became an electric brightness of release and then dark.