The Rebirth

“¿Pero por que?” she asked again and again. “But why?”
Yolanda Rodriguez had at first laughed at her daughter’s bewildered face and ruffled her hair. Elena’s hair was free, wild, curly, long, lively, and a deep, deep black. Like vibrant silk vines, they intertwined and twisted down her back. Everybody loved to mess around with Elena’s hair.
“We have to leave?” Elena had asked for the hundredth time, firmly, on the verge of tears.
Now alarmed, her mother finally answered. “Yes, my angel,” her mother twisted a curl around her finger. “We have new jobs there. New opportunities. When you grow older, you’ll understand.”
But Elena wanted to understand now. Remembering how confused she was yesterday, she was starting to feel like she couldn’t understand anything at all.
And she got frustrated.
That afternoon, she’d went over to the tree in the park, begging her parents. Once her mother and father were out of sight, she ran to Tilia the tree nymph and cried.
Tilia patiently patted the sobbing mess on the back, waiting until it seemed like Elena calmed down enough to talk.
“I’m going away,” Elena cried, before dissolving again.
And so Tilia waited some more. Once, she heard in between sobs, an “Inglund.”
“England?” Tilia said with distaste. “Oh, the oak trees there think they’re so much wiser than the rest of us just because they’re so old. Well, I have to tell you, old does not necessarily mean wise. And they’re so… complex. Why do they need to be big if all they’re going to do is stoop over and curl all their branches? Why can’t they be simple? Simplicity, Elena, is the most beautiful form of wisery, if you ask me.”
Tilia looked at her own very bushy, very shady, very simple tree, and pursed her lips. Sometimes she found herself very boring. She thought of the oak trees and their twists and curves and scowled.
“I- I- I drgn’t WAHRNNA-“ Elena cried.
“Oh,” Tilia patted the girl’s back again. “Okay.”
The tree nymph sighed and looked down. Elena’s Sight was astounding. She really was something special. And she had this presence of something larger, even if she was only a five-year-old girl crying into her dress. And it wasn’t just tree nymphs- Elena’s ghost parties? She could see all of them- she described ones Tilia had never seen before. Tilia worried for her. A mortal with Sight… very, very, very, very strong Sight… it wasn’t good. Special, unique, remarkable, and very, very, bad for the mortal.
Spain could be a little dangerous and creepy, with its old spirits and ghosts and monsters, but if Elena had the protection of the spirits already, she was pretty much safe from all harm.
But England… England was very big trouble, especially in the cities.
England was busy.
England was a center of travel.
Monsters didn’t really live there, it’s true. But everyone from everywhere -everywhere- passed through there for travel.The Mist was strong.
Tilia had heard stories… of a huge baboon terrorization, once? In England. Caused quite a bit of destruction. Of course, that could be just sea nymph gossip. They’d also told Tilia that the end of the world was near- twice- and everything was just fine.
But still. Tilia looked down at Elena sadly.
It was going to be hard.
Suddenly seized with a sudden urge of importance, Tilia grabbed Elena by the shoulders.
“Elena,” she looked into the girl’s swollen eyes with complete seriousness. They were still leaking salt water and fluttering spasmodically. “You have to listen to me.”
She waited a little bit. Her eyes were starting to swell themselves. She did care for the girl. She was going to miss Elena’s weekly updates on what she did at preschool that day. She was going to miss someone being able to see her. She was going to miss taking care of an annoying little sister.
“Elena,” Tilia said, now a little choked up. “You’re going to have to stay out of trouble in England.”
Elena’s eyes were wide and clear and red and still dripping tears. It was obvious she didn’t understand.
“Don’t talk to the England ghosts,” Tilia said firmly. “Don’t talk to anybody your parents can’t see, okay? Do you understand?”
“But-“ Elena started, and Tilia cut her off. Elena shrank back. Tilia had never acted so serious in her life. She was all deep thinking, or excited tree babble.
“Nobody your parents can’t see. If your mama can’t see it, don’t speak to it. Okay? Because in England… they’re dangerous. They could hurt you.”
“Nobody mama or papa can’t see,” Elena echoed quietly. Tilia looked at the girl in surprise. Something had calmed. Sad understanding of another age filled her eyes.
“Yes,” Tilia said simply. Sadness brushed her chest gently. She hugged Elena hard. “I’m going to miss you, girlie.”
Elena buried her face in Tilia’s shoulder.
After a couple of moments, the tree nymph pulled away and bit her lip. “Elena- where are you going to be living?”
When she answered, “London”, Tilia wrinkled her nose. “There is one tree… He can’t be as great as I am, not even close, but people always talk about him… Oakley? You can talk to him, if you need help. He should be in one of the parks. Ask around. The trees there should know where he is. And… I don’t like river nymphs- too trashy- but they won’t harm you. They’ll think you’re adorable, if you go up and talk to them. Get their trust. River James, I think? River Same? Gah, I can't remember. Anyways; there's a river in London. You can talk to the river spirits. They’ll help out sometimes. Just please them with gossip. Always talk about boys. They love boys. Just don’t go in the water, whatever you do-”
Tilia repeated the instructions four times for Elena. She told Elena to come by every day and repeat them for her until she had them memorized.
“Don’t worry,” Tilia promised. Head raised, Elena nodded gravely.
It was at that moment that Elena truly radiated Something. Tilia was struck- harder than ever- with a feeling of needing to bow down. She’d never been prouder of her little friend, and never been sadder for her.
Elena still didn’t understand. She’d been crying because she was afraid of the Unknown.
If Tilia was Elena, she’d be crying even harder out of fear of the Known.
There were bad things in England. And some of the biggest monsters were the ones who didn’t look like monsters.

Notes

Hadn't posted in two days, so did a double post today:) Might post again tonight.