----The Mighty Oak----
There once was an oak tree who was tall and strong, with sturdy limbs and healthy leaves, with a canopy so brilliant that he was envied by all; from the smallest seed to the largest hornbeam.
The oak was proud of his being, existing as he was in a prime state of beauty. He was not young, but he did not lack spirit. He was not old, but he did not lack wisdom.

One morning, as Father Sun peeked over the horizon, the tree awoke to find a druid resting against his trunk.
Infuriated by the druid's apparent self-entitlement, the mighty oak shook his canopy and wiggled his roots.

When the druid had been awakened, the tree glared down at him and asked,

"What is it that you are doing there?"

"I am resting upon your trunk, Mighty Oak," the druid responded. "Tending to trees is a labourious task, scaling the trunks of the elders wears my muscles, carving runes cramps my hands."

"Why is it that you do that, then?" the mighty oak asked grumpily.

"I do it because it needs to be done and I enjoy it," spoke the druid before picking himself up and leaving the tree behind.

~

The mighty oak considered the words of the sleepy druid. The tree came to the sudden realisation that he knew very little about taking care of himself.
He knew not why the seasons made a difference nor why some plants grew taller and healthier with certain fungi. He only knew that he was envied by the trees and the seeds.
The druid knew all this and more. There was much the tree might learn.
After a couple of months had passed, the mighty oak cried, "Then I have decided. I shall become a druid."

And so, the mighty oak placed his branches gently on the forest floor, stepped out of his roots, and became a druid.

~

Countless years went by as the tree tended to the flowers and the birches.
He planted the seeds and watered the hornbeams.
He climbed the tall trunks of the elders of the forest.
He carved runes and placed them on totems to ensure they were blessed by the Great Spirits.
The mighty oak learned a vast myriad of techniques, he learned the differences between all the species of plants, he even learned how to take care of himself.
Yet as time wore on, the tree grew bored. He had learned all that he had hoped to understand.

"I tire of being a druid," stated the mighty oak.

And so, the tree buried his cudgel, removed his robes, and returned to being a beautiful tree.

~
As decades passed, the tree stood proud and strong.
Although he was still envied by the grass and the hornbeams, the mighty oak had been a druid and learned how to take care of himself. He learned how to tend to the plants and he learned how to be kind to others.
~

One day, while the oak was basking in the sun and tasting the soil with his roots, a warrior approached him.

"Mighty Oak," the warrior began. "Might I rest beneath your branches? The heat is nigh unbearable and I am tired from my battle."

"Very well, you may partake of my shade," the tree spoke. "But only on one condition."

"What might that be, Mighty Oak?" asked the tired warrior.

"I, too, am tired and wish to retire in the light of Father Sun. You must not disturb me with your words. You must not speak."

~

A few days had passed before the mighty oak glanced towards his roots to find the warrior scribbling in the dirt.
Intrigued, the tree asked of the warrior, "What is it that you are doing there?"
The warrior gave no response, but continued to mark the dirt with his paws.
"What is it that you are doing there?" the tree asked again.
The warrior gave no response, but simply looked up and smiled before continuing once more.

~

One day, the mighty oak awoke from his nap to find that the warrior had left.
Looking down towards the ground, the mighty oak discovered that the warrior's drawings told a story.
As he read the pictures, the mighty oak realized that the warrior was great not for being envied, but for being respected.
The tree began to understand that the great warrior earned his place of honour by accomplishing magnificent feats.
The great warrior protected the people and the trees and the birds and the bees.
"Then I have decided," declared the mighty oak. "I shall become a warrior."
And so, the mighty oak shook off his canopy, stepped out of his roots, and became a warrior.

~

The mighty oak fought valliantly in many battles, he bravely defended his home and his people from terrifying threats.
For many years, the tree lived the life of a warrior. But, over time, the oak grew weary of his status.
No longer did the tree feel the thrill of defeating an enemy.
Instead he felt the agony of his enemies as he thrust his sword through their hearts.

No longer did the tree lie down to a peaceful rest after a long day of training or fighting.
Instead his dreams were now troubled by the faces of those he had slain.

"I tire of being a warrior," stated the mighty oak.

And so, the tree cast aside his weapon, stripped himself of his armour, and returned to being a beautiful tree.

~

As decades passed, the tree stood proud and strong.
Although he was still envied by the grass and the hornbeams, the mighty oak had been a warrior and earned the respect of many.

~

One night, as the mighty oak was gazing at the stars, he heard upon the breeze the lull of a bard.
To himself and to the grass and the hornbeams he asked in a whisper,

"What is that I am hearing?"

The grass piped up, "It's a song! It's a song!"
The hornbeams insisted, "It's an old tale."

To the wind and to the bard, the tree inquired,

"What is it that you are doing there?"

From the shadows the bard appeared and responded, "I am singing a ballad of the past, of our ancestors, of our roots."

The mighty oak knew of the roots of trees and how to tend to them properly. He knew of the roots of the hair that allowed one to hold an enemy's head up for a clean decapitation.
He did not know of the roots of which the bard spoke.

After a single night by a campfire, the bard continued on her way and the mighty oak watched as she vanished into the distance.

~

What were his roots, the mighty oak wondered. Where did the bard come from? Where did the warrior come from? The druid? The grass and the hornbeams?
Having mused over these thoughts for numerous months, the tree eventually proclaimed,

"Then I have decided. I shall become a bard."

And so, the mighty oak took off his hat of leaves, removed his gloves of twigs, stepped out of his roots, and became a bard.

~

The tree learned to sing marvelous songs of the past.
He learned to inspire others and himself.
He learned to teach the young the past and to laugh with the old.
He learned to compose beautiful plays and orchestrate the best concertos.
But as time progressed, the mighty oak began to yearn for his peaceful existence as a tree. He longed again to speak to the grass and to the hornbeams.

"I tire of being a bard," stated the mighty oak.

And so, the tree placed his lute on the rack, unlaced his leather gear, and returned to being a beautiful tree.

~
As decades passed, the tree stood proud and strong.
Although he was still envied by the grass and the hornbeams, the mighty oak had been a bard and discovered his roots.

One day, he turned to his fellow trees, he turned to the grass, and he turned to the hornbeams.
The mighty oak then asked of them,

"What is it that you are doing there?"