A Big Blue Horse and a Cherry Tree
A Big Blue Horse and a Cherry Tree
A tree stood in the castle garden. It was a scrawny little thing, barely more than a sapling. Its bright green leaves eagerly drank in the warm sunlight, and its hungry roots absorbed nutrients from the fresh soil around them.
The tree had many companions in that garden. There were flowers of every color planted in neat little beds. There were shrubs shaped into neat hedges and beautiful topiaries. There were countless blades of emerald grass cut to precise length. There were even other trees of various type, all young and healthy.
Above all in that garden towered the great, gray walls of the castle, each stone of which was masterfully cut, masterfully placed, and as sparkling clean as the day it had been hewed.
Two sisters approached the tree. They had wings upon their backs and horns upon their heads. Two small crowns sat atop two manes that wafted slowly in a nonexistent breeze. The younger sister, a scrawny little filly, wore a blindfold over her eyes. The elder, a filly on the cusp of adolescence, walked beside her, a smile on her lips.
“Where are we going?” said the younger, veering off course as she walked.
“You shall see soon,” said the elder, steering the younger back towards their destination.
When the two stood before the tree, the elder stopped them.
“Alright,” said the elder, “you may look now.”
The younger reached up and removed her blindfold, squinting in the bright daylight. When her eyes adjusted, she looked upon the tree and gasped.
The elder’s smile widened. “Happy birthday, Lulu,” she said.
“Is this…?” the younger began.
“It is,” said the elder. “I know how much you love cherries.”
The younger’s face lit up, and she smiled from ear to ear. She threw herself upon her sister, embracing her and nuzzling her neck. “Oh Tia, thank you!” she cried. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
The elder chuckled, and returned the embrace. “You are quite welcome,” she said.
The younger pulled back, turning her sparkling eyes upon her sister’s face. “I...I shall water it every day!” she declared. “And...I shall feed it, and...and take good care of it always! And we shall have lots of yummy cherries to eat!”
“Calm yourself, Lulu,” the elder chuckled. “It shall be a while yet before it bears fruit.”
The younger seemed not to hear. “Oh, Tia,” she said, looking between her sister and the tree. “I...I love it! I love it so much, I…” Again, she embraced her sister. “I love you, sister.”
The elder returned the embrace, and kissed her sister’s cheek. “I love you too,” she said.
A tree stood in the castle garden. No sapling was it, yet not fully mature either. Its trunk had grown much, and showed no signs of slowing. Many branches and leaves it had, which cast a cool shadow in the warm sunlight.
The tree’s companions had grown as well. Buzzing bees and butterflies floated amongst vast swathes of breathtaking flowers. Shrubs sculpted in the shape of mythical beasts kept a silent vigil over their home. A small forest’s worth of trees stood tall and proud nearby, their trunks thick and their branches long.
The walls of the castle, while a bit sun-faded, were as strong and as sturdy as ever, maintaining their protective embrace of the garden.
Two sisters laid beneath the tree, side-by-side, and like the tree, they too had grown. The younger had grown taller, and would soon start her journey down the long road towards marehood. Her head rested upon the elder’s shoulder. Her eyes were closed. She had a soft smile on her lips. Beside her sat a small watering can decorated with the image of a moon.
The elder could no longer be called a mere filly, being just a few scant years from adulthood. She sat up straight, her dignified posture befitting of a young princess. She looked down at a book that laid open upon the grass before her. She recited the words on the pages, narrating the story they contained. She told of a young hero who strove to free the land from the wicked villain who threatened it. As she reached the end, she told of how the hero triumphed, and peace and happiness were restored.
The younger’s smile widened. She always liked it when the story had a happy ending.
A tree stood in the castle garden. It was tall and strong, and its long limbs cast a wide shadow on the ground. Many leaves sprouted from its branches, many of which could have stood to be pruned. Small, red fruits hung amongst those leaves.
The trees standing nearby were just as grand, yet could also have done with a good prune. The flowers still sat happily in their beds, oblivious to the tiny weeds peeking through the soil around them. The topiaries were a bit overgrown, those bears and lions in need of a good haircut. Even the grass was in need of attention, having grown long since its last trim.
The tall walls of the castle cast long shadows down over the garden. Those once-gleaming stones were now weather-worn and dull, their mortar crumbling in some places.
One sister laid beneath the tree. The younger was well into her adolescence, just a stone’s throw from adulthood. To one side of her sat an old, dusty watering can decorated with the image of a moon. On her other side, a small basket of cherries sat. Before her, laid out on the grass, was a book of law, the pages of which she slowly pored over.
The elder was nowhere to be seen.
The younger turned her head and stared wistfully at the castle, then hung her head and sighed.
A tree stood in the castle garden. Its trunk was tall and thick. Its great branches stretched out in every direction, shrouding the ground in shadow. Green leaves grew wild and unkempt amidst the dark red of hanging fruit.
Nearby, flowers craned their necks to catch the waning light of the evening sun, still struggling to hold out against the weeds that strangled them. The leafy beasts that had once appeared so noble to the eye now had a fearsome look to them, their features warped and disfigured by unchecked growth. Tall trees stretched their greedy limbs wide, smothering the thick lawn in darkness.
The castle walls stood silent and grim nearby, their dull stones bearing cracks, craters and traces of infesting moss.
No sisters laid beneath the tree. No watering can sat upon the grass; no book was laid open upon it. All that interrupted that expanse of dull green was the red of rotting, unpicked cherries.
A tree stood in the castle garden. It was great to behold, great and terrible. Its rough trunk was scarred and pitted. Its thick roots stretched across the ground like huge, ugly worms. Its crooked branches hung low under their weight, reaching down like grabbing hands. A mass of dull, withered leaves covered it, and the pitiful remnants of insect-eaten fruit decorated it.
Dry, dusty flowerbeds sat nearby, weeds spreading freely through their soil to choke out the last remaining flowers. One could hardly have imagined that the lumpy, spiderwebbed shrubs scattered about had once been beautiful topiaries. Those old, crooked trees that remained clung desperately to life, their leaves and roots scrabbling for every ray of sunshine and every drop of water they could get. Patches of yellowed grass abounded, and weeds grew healthily across the lawn.
The castle walls loomed over the garden, their stones stained, crumbling, and in some cases, missing entirely.
Overhead, a full moon surrounded by a blanket of stars cast its cold light down upon the earth.
It was midday.
Noises surrounded the silent garden: the shouting of voices, the sizzle of magical energy, the dull cracking of stone, and above all else, a harrowing, cackling laugh.
Lights flashed nearby, casting eerie shadows across the ground. The shadows grew shorter as the lights grew closer.
Suddenly, a beam of searing light struck the garden, leaving a large, smoking crater in the lawn. A few moments later, another one struck, and a section of wall crumbled to dust. The sporadic barrage continued. Trees were rent. Shrubs were vaporized. Flower beds were obliterated.
Finally, after witnessing the demise of its companions, the tree, too, met its fate. A final flash of light illuminated the garden, and a final beam of energy came hurtling down, striking the tree at the center of its venerable trunk.
A terrible crack pierced the air. Countless scraps of wood and singed leaves exploded outwards, covering the garden. When the debris had settled, all that remained was a large, smoldering tree stump surrounded by death and decay.
The lights and noises continued, as if nothing at all had happened. They moved away, growing fainter as they did, but remained ever-present. It seemed as if they might never cease, but eventually, there came one last flash of light, brighter than all the others, illuminating the world with all colors of the rainbow.
The world fell dim and quiet once more. The only sound that could be heard was that of faint, distant weeping, and the only light that could be seen was that of the moon, whose mournful face looked down upon the ruin she had wrought.
A tree stood in the castle garden. Its tall, sturdy trunk was gone. Its long branches were gone. Its bright green leaves were gone. Its deep red fruit was gone. All that remained was a rotting mass of moss-covered wood that had once passed for a stump.
Wild grasses grew nearby, smothering the earth all around. Weeds abounded where once flowers had bloomed. The trunks of felled trees laid silently rotting, their bark covered with lichen and fungus. Insects nested in the crumbling remains of deflated shrubs.
The walls of the castle still stood nearby, despite the great holes they bore, and the thick growth of moss covering them.
No sisters walked through the trees, nor laid upon the grass, but high above, up where the stars twinkled in the night sky, one sister remained, casting her pale light down onto the garden.
A tree did not stand in the castle garden. It was gone, as if it had never been.
All around, the earth was covered in nothing but hard, spiky grasses and ugly weeds, perfectly at home in that forsaken place.
The stone structures that had once been mighty castle walls lay in ruin, their stones crumbled and cracked by wind, rain, and creeping roots of plants.
No sisters watched over that garden, not even high in the sky, where the faceless moon sat amongst twinkling stars.
Voices echoed through the ruin, faint and distant. Soon after, flashes of light cast faint shadows amongst the stones. There came the sound of a harrowing, cackling laugh. There was light, and for a brief moment, the garden shone with all the colors of the rainbow.
There was silence, a peaceful, restful silence.
Slowly, the sun rose up over the horizon, signaling the coming of day.
A tree stood in the castle garden. It was enormous. Its trunk was as strong as stone. Its long, shapely branches seemed to touch the sky. A forest’s worth of bright green leaves happily drank in the warm sunlight. Delicious red fruits hung from its branches like ornaments, waiting to be picked. It was as such a fruit that it had once fallen from the branches of its parent many long years ago.
Surrounding it, a vast lawn of soft, green grass stretched out, every blade precisely trimmed. Flowers of every size, color, and shape kept it company from their fertile beds. Masterfully shaped topiaries stood nearby, their bright leaves and warm features welcoming all to that beautiful place. Tall, elegant trees bent slightly in a gentle breeze, as if paying homage to their venerable neighbor.
Around that garden, the castle walls stood tall and strong, gleaming brightly as the sunlight touched their white stones and golden embellishments.
Two sisters laid beneath the tree, side-by-side. The younger rested her head upon the elder’s shoulder. Her eyes were closed. She had a soft smile on her lips. Beside her sat a small watering can decorated with the image of a moon.
The elder relaxed against her, providing a comfortable headrest. She looked down at a book that laid open upon the grass before her. She recited the words on the pages, narrating the story they contained. She told of a young hero who strove to free the land from the wicked villain who threatened it. As she reached the end, she told of how the hero triumphed, and peace and happiness were restored.
The younger’s smile widened. She always liked it when the story had a happy ending.
