Alrene here again; you might know my name; some call me Alrene of the trees. I live in a towering tree, one of many. It’s true what others say that the tower trees might be the reincarnation of our ancestors. I’ve noticed the fascinating traits of neighboring trees that grandpa told me about. He recalled that as a boy, he went fishing with a man who had a peculiar manner of doing things. He yelled into the air before stringing the lines on the pole. It seemed weird to him, but it wasn’t something strange to the man. It was actually expected. I never got it. The man turned his head as if talking to someone and said to the boy, it’s my father telling me where to cast the line. My grandfather said the man wailed, glowed, groaned, and cried; he caught six big fish, and he taught my grandfather as a boy how to find good places for fish. Since childhood, I’ve known my grandfather as the great catcher people throughout the towering tree knew him for his abilities. Several leagues away, even at night, I heard wailing and glowing in that high tree. Friends could tell me about that. Nothing for sure if I believe that; there is too much evidence. That the wailing my grandfather heard was still there, but he never explained where it came from.

I don’t think anyone else knows. Another Tyanian belief is that each towering tree contains the spirits of people who lived in that tree generations ago. If one nature was dominant, a descendent living in the tree bent the tree to their will, yet other spirits and wizards might interfere. Wizards were the ones who definitely could talk with trees, not order, and persuade them to do what they wished. It might have been the wizards who created the wailing sounds; who knows? Wherever they are, foul-smelling smoke blanks out the morning or twilight sun. I fought back with plenty of incense, smoking with a vengeance; my neighbors did the same.  

I know the tree where I live had a headstrong personality. I tried to pay close attention to its feelings; otherwise, there might be accidents. Call it superstition, the same I’m scared. Some neighbors fell from their trees; luckily, they weren’t killed or hurt. The spirits in the trees were like people; one’s personality has to be matched to theirs. Temperamental. Probably suppressing the spirits was dangerous; they come after you, causing bad luck. Those spirits always spy on us living humans. Only some of the time do hearts and trees eavesdrop on what we think and talk about. Think of the towering tree as a landlord and all the living things on it as tenants. 

Living in the top tier of the towering tree, there was no obstruction for leagues; the land stretched ahead as if I had dreamt it. The ground resembles a tapestry with thousands of trees everywhere and foliage of every conceivable color. As I looked far ahead, I wondered what people were doing in their trees. I’ve only heard of these lands by reading and pictures. 

There’s a sport we engage in: Falling Down Wind. I jump down from the top of a tree bouncing between branches as I hit them with skill not to be pierced on the components; others were stabbed to death. People couldn’t get up to those branches to rescue the impaled. I’ve seen bodies hanging on those branches fall apart in weeks, parts hurtled down to be eaten by animals. I use a circular board keeping my foot anchored on it; I carry two long sticks with a curved bottom to hook and twirl around the branches to keep myself from pierced. It’s like dying or imagining it falling at high speed, finally at the bottom, gliding a dodging along the obstacles of the forest to finally be there. That was my defying death. I believe my ancestors protected me. I think they have enough spiritual power; we call them virtues or merits accumulated through good deeds toward others. The others that got pierced probably had no virtues. 

Don’t think dead people are buried in the trees; in our culture, the dead are cremated. They go to a spiritual realm similar to where they were familiar during their earthly lives. Why do we Tyanian cremate the body as a shell? The soul is the natural person. The body returns to the earth. Someday I will cease my body scattered to the world again. I’ll do the same for others, throw their ashes to the ground or waters, it’s a favor, and others will return to me. I’d instead go to Peinar, that’s the highest spiritual realm. But the priests maintain few attain the goal. It’s a place of floating and bliss, where thought materializes instantly lovely ideas if it’s true. I have yet to go, it is our tradition, and none should say anything wrong about the spiritual world. Although people had always written and said nasty stuff about spiritual matters. Depending on what our spirits did in the living world, we might aspire to the top of the tree of Senbnol, where twirling floating hearts live. Senbnol is a higher realm than Peinar. If we go to the lower levels, we must reincarnate to do better. 

Trees are the center of our world; there is a legend of the mother tree beyond Peinar and Senbnol. Some Tyanian believe it’s beyond the multiverse; to me, it’s just a state of mind.