Old Michael still lives to this day, in a cottage built for him on the edge of the woods, and he is the woods’ guardian. Only he remembers truly the events of that night, only he knows the fate of his proud mistress, the Duchess. Some say that what he saw turned his mind, and that now he is quite mad. But they are the unbelievers. The villagers know Old Michael is not mad, they know he speaks the truth.

The dragons he mutters about are not figments of his imagination, nor are the whisperers in the trees. Old Michael knows the woods, and the woods know him. For Michael talks to the trees, especially a very beautiful silver birch that appeared, quite inexplicably, in the middle of that dark clearing. A shining silver tree, which Michael tends with great care, even in the deep winter.

And the woods will never be dark again, for each day is a joy greater than the last, and the world is at peace.

 

THE END