Each swing of the axe sliced out a piece of Caylo's heart. Splinters of bark and wood flew with each sweeping blow as the logger Petric extinguished the life of yet another tree. Caylo watched with tear-filled eyes as the century-old oak toppled to the ground with a heart-wrenching crash.

Caylo crept away, back deeper into the forest. Back into the splendor and solitude of the old growth of the Qualmwood, where the power of Evanora, the Forest Mother, was at its strongest. Where he could think most clearly.

He had left the city of Limar many seasons ago, seeking escape from the maddening presence of other men. He failed to understand the reasons behind their greedy and short-sighted ways. They sought to possess all that they could, only to squander it on ethereal pleasures. Caylo had always thought that man existed to fulfill a higher purpose than just the depletion of the world. Nature had brought forth man, so man had a duty to ensure her continuation.

Caylo came to the Qualmwood seeking a sanctuary from men and instead he had felt the call of the Forest Mother. He learned from her wise teachings that man had been born of Nature and he held his own rightful place in the world. Now, it was up to him to defend the border between what was man’s and what was not.

He understood man's need for lumber. Every year the men of Limar came to harvest the trees from which to build their dwellings, but they had always stayed near the edges of the forest. This season they had come in much greater numbers and were clear-cutting their way into its very heart.

As a priest of Evanora and the divinely appointed warden of the Qualmwood, Caylo knew that something must be done. The forest was under attack. It was time for the forest to fight back.

"I swear by Alacon's beard Master Jernigan, it wasn't like this when I scouted it out yesterday." Petric shook his head in honest disbelief and looked around him.

What had been a soft carpet of leaves and pine needles with sparse underbrush the day before, had become a dense, head-high thicket of thorny vines and bramble.

"I find that hard to believe, Petric." Jernigan placed his large hands on his large hips and critically surveyed both his workman and the surrounding area. "But no matter. We cannot allow this to slow down our job. The King is pressing me very hard. The conflict with Torngate is heating up and he’s going to need a lot of weapons and equipment. Go get the other men, Petric. We're going to burn this rubbish out of here."

Caylo heard the cries of the trees long before he smelled the smoke, but he had anticipated the loggers' response to his magical thicket. He called upon Evanora's father, the rain, and the clouds began to gather.

What the loggers had reduced to ash, the deluge reduced to mud. The men had to scramble quickly away to avoid being mired. Caylo could only maintain the rain for a few days, but for those few days the forest would be safe.

The rain ceased after two days, but the clouds remained and it took another day for the ground to become firm enough for the men to return.

When they did they brought in their huge yarder wagon and with the use of ropes, pulleys and oxen hauled forth from the woods many logs of oak, pine and maple. The unexpected rest seemed only to have stoked the fires of their determination.

So Caylo began to stoke the furnace of Nature's own fire. He gathered the remaining clouds and sent lightning into the men's encampment, destroying their equipment and inflaming the trees they had slain and piled upon their wagons. Caylo placed the bolts of white fire with much care, for men are the children of Nature as well, even though they inflict destruction upon all of their brethren.

Caylo smiled as he watched the men flee from their burning camp, back toward Limar. All but one.

Jernigan stood at a distance, his face grim and his hands clenching and unclenching in building anger. It had taken him decades to reach the point where he would finally possess true wealth and he could provide a good life for his family. If he could complete this job, his two young sons would not have to struggle their whole lives, like him, on the lowly wages of an axeman. He had worked hard his whole life to obtain this dream, but now it looked as if he was going to have to fight for it.

Then he turned his back and marched off to Limar.

Caylo went to the temple of Evanora, a luxuriant grove of ancient oaks grown in a circle to symbolize the ring of life, which had been tended by a hundred generations of Qualmwood wardens. There he gave her thanks for granting him the power to defend the forest. Then he prayed that she would grant him the strength he would need for its restoration.

"Don't go, Master Jernigan," appealed Petric. "There is great evil in those woods. Some of the men think the trees themselves are cursed."

"There is no curse, Petric. Do you not remember the legend of Qualmwood? They say a warden has always lived there. Some man who felt the call to serve the Forest Mother and chose these woods to protect. When one died there was always another that came along to take his place. He is just a man, Petric, and I must honor my contract with the King. I am going to take care of this warden and then we can all get back to work!"

Then Jernigan turned and walked toward the Qualmwood with a hard glare in his eyes and a large sword in his large hand.

When the trees warned Caylo of the approach of a single man, he knew immediately that this man was the moving force behind all the others. This would be the final battle of this war. If Caylo would have to kill one of Nature's own children to defend this forest, then the time would be now.

Caylo took up his staff and walked to the tree in the ring that lay in the direction of the trespasser. There he touched the staff to the tree and then the tree brought him inside itself. As Caylo felt himself become a part of the tree, flow down through the roots and on into the roots of other trees, he prayed to find some way to bring this to a peaceful resolution.

Jernigan trudged through the devastation of his camp, the smoking hulks of wagons, the tatters of burning canvas and the metal shattered and twisted. He continued on toward the forest, with years of work and struggle burning around him, adding fuel to his anger. He walked through the burned bramble toward a game trail where the beginning of the forest marked the end of his men's progress.

Then Caylo materialized from the trees and walked out and stood before Jernigan.

"That is as far as you go, logger. Your destruction has ended."

"I do not destroy, warden. I gather the materials to build the things that better the lives of men."

"You destroy so that you may rain destruction down upon other men. You lay waste to the very land you wish to possess. All of Nature's children have a place in this world and for all there are places they may never go. One such place, by the will of Evanora, that man may never go again is the Qualmwood."

Jernigan raised his sword and came a step closer. "You are a man yourself, warden. I have as much right to this wood as you."

"I am filled with the spirit of the Forest Mother. I follow her decree and tend to the woods for the benefit of all her children. Evanora gives me the right, logger. You have witnessed the powers she has entrusted to me. Must you die to accept defeat?"

Caylo lowered his staff and pointed it a Jernigan and the logger's sword crumbled to dust and settled to the ground. Then Jernigan's fury placed its foot upon the neck of his reason and he surged forward and swung his large fist at Caylo.

The warden dodged nimbly and brought his staff down hard upon the logger's hand, crushing many bones. Then Caylo poked his staff into Jernigan's chest and pushed him back toward Limar.

"Go back to your place, logger, and if you return, it will be to your death."

Jernigan turned and walked slowly away, clutching his hand and moaning softly. That was it for him. His contract with the King broken, he would likely spend the rest of his life as a debt servant to some petty lord. His long-sought future was in ruins, his life every bit as crushed as his hand.

Caylo stood quietly, relieved that he did not have to kill him. He turned back toward the forest, but then he stopped and looked back at the man. He was touched, then, by the heart of the Forest Mother and great wisdom entered his mind and a small sack appeared in his hand.

"Wait, logger. Evanora has made other plans." Caylo laid his staff aside and approached Jernigan. "Give me your hand."

A great warmth flowed out and Jernigan's hand was restored. Then Caylo placed the small sack into that large hand.

"Plant these seeds out on the plains where nothing else will grow. A forest will come forth with god’s speed and you may begin to harvest trees within a few weeks. It will continue thus, for a good while. The less that you harvest, the longer it will remain, so be thoughtful in its use, logger, because even a magical forest will not last forever."

Jernigan looked at Caylo with slow understanding. "Thank you, warden."

"Thank Evanora."