Within a field of newly cut wheat, a lone tree was rooted. A lush, green, mushroom-shaped canopy topped the age-full bark. For many years it was alone, uninhabited.

It had all started when a freak storm blew in from the sea: a sea that was thousands of miles away. The long life the tree had lived, kept it from being uprooted. But this storm was no ordinary storm, it was a magical storm.

Dozens upon dozens of magical birds were within this storm. The birds, no larger than mice, cast a deep shadow; a shadow that seemed to come from the very depths of the earth. The cut wheat shriveled up under the shadow. Death was within this shadow.

The dense cloud of birds spotted the lone tree. An unnatural, unearthly shriek escaped from the birds. They planned on killing the all-mighty tree. The birds began to dive, shrieking even more. Then the unexpected happened.

The tree began to glow. It surrounded the treetop in bright, unbearable light. The birds didn't stop. Upon realizing that glowing wouldn’t stop these birds, the tree shot a beam of light into their midst. The beam caught the birds off guard, and sent them scattering.

One beam of light was not enough to stop these birds. They began to regroup. The old age of the tree had caught up with it too quickly. Its leaves began to change their color to brown, some even fell off their branches.

The cloud began to circle the tired tree. A shriek escaped their beaks; a warning of the pain to come. The tree was not meant to die on this day. With the last of it's strength and power, the tree engulfed the birds in a ray of light; light with the heat of the a sun.

The storm of unnatural birds were never seen, nor heard of from that day hence.