"Beneath the Green Tree"
Part I - "In the garden of the stars"
***
"In the garden of the stars / You were mine and I was yours / And we were both each others, ours / Beneath the green tree."
***
Lucian had awoken, terrified, in the twilit silence of the forest, with nothing to his name but his skin, and even the ownership of that remarkable organ doubtful. The beauty, the color, the overwhelming reality of existence had shocked and frightened him to his very core. The sweet- smelling air had suffocated him; the whispers of the wind had assaulted his ears; the glaring, utter sharpness in the green of the trees had been blinding; the tickle of the grass moving beneath him had made his skin shiver. He had lain there, as if dead, in the soft, lush grasses for hours beyond counting before the initial near-heart-attack of surprise and bewilderment had worn off.
Then, when he had found he could move, the enormity of the world he had unwittingly plunged into had become multiplied a hundred fold. The subtle change in perspective by tilting his head to the left, or by sitting up, or by closing one eye or the other, had astounded and confused him. Presently, he had found his legs moved as well as his arms and neck, and (after some brief practice) he had stood to view the world from a new height. He had learned then that there was even more to this paradise of the senses than the clearing he had viewed from the ground; from atop one's legs, he had found, one could see to even farther horizons than before. He had longed to expand his meager view even farther, and so, stumbling, he had taken his first step.
The ants, no doubt, could not have understood the mammoth pink appendage crashing down on their fortress of dirt and clay; nor could they have sympathized with the doddering, infant-like stumble of a creature's first footstep and let the owner of the invading foot off with a warning. Lucian, similarly, could not have foreseen the enormity of his mistake of targeting the ants' gray mound as the landing sight for his heel, and as the creatures had begun to climb up his heel, followed by his ankle and beyond, he had not immediately comprehended the prickly sensations of the creatures' legs upon his. Only when the first of the insects had angrily sunk its gnashing mandibles into Lucian's flesh had he realized that the tiny animals were not crawling up him in order to 'play'.
Like a racehorse, knowing for the first time the flare of pain delivered by whip to its hindquarters, Lucian had at once become aware of the unpleasant sensation of having one's legs gnawed by maddened insects. His face had contorted in anguish; the torment to the wounded area had been burning. His mind had erupted in the simple emotions of anger, agony - and fear. Instinct had told him to run from the source of this unpleasantness, and run he had, as fast as his inexperienced legs had been able to carry him.
He had climbed a hill and stumbled blindly down its far side, nearly spilling himself in its surprisingly steep recess. He had crashed blindly through the otherwise silent forests like some raging, primeval beast, provoking the unprepared bird population into the safety and solitude of the skies. He had staggered madly through the pristine world that surrounded him, and likely would have continued on in a similar fashion for some time had he not, by the purest accident, charged directly into a pond.
The cool water had jolted him from his flight, the freezing calm of the pool relieving, if momentarily only, the pain in his leg. He had immersed himself - slowly at first, then faster and with much rejoicing - into the welcoming shallows, and for the second time in his lifespan of twenty minutes, he had felt pure ecstasy.
It was then, as he was lying in the cold clarity of the pond, his senses once more in exultation of the world they had mercifully been allowed to sample, that a disturbance at the far end of the pool took his attention. A creature was washing itself in the more distant shallows, its forelimbs gingerly moving the soft caresses of the water of its fragile form. Lucian, by his own will or not, drifted nearer to the creature, his eyes full of wonder. The creature had not been disturbed, as the birds had, as Lucian had come crashing into the pond; nor had it seemed to have even noticed; nor had it noticed him as he lay bathing in the pool's cool stretches. The creature struck Lucian as very beautiful, more so even than the myriad other facets of the glittering world that had so enthralled his senses.
He drew up in front of the creature, and at once it noticed him. It did not, however, flee (as had the birds) or attack (as had the ants). Instead, it merely rose to stand erect in the water and stare at Lucian in interest. It seemed to Lucian suddenly that this was no mere dumb beast, but a being that possessed some innate intelligence. It also occurred to him in that moment that perhaps he did as well. Lucian wondered if the same realizations were go through the creature's mind at that moment, for its eyes glowed with cunning and curiosity.
It is studying me, Lucian realized. And I am studying it.
Speech is a strange thing, and Lucian was not aware he was capable of it until the word 'Hello' tumbled awkwardly out of his mouth. The sound was not random, he assured itself; but though it had been spoken seemingly by instinct, he could derive no meaning behind the word. The creature, however, seemed to make perfect sense of it, for it - she, he suddenly realized - blushed, and returned it with her own quiet 'hello, then'. She backed away a step, but kept her eyes on him.
He tried again. "Lucian," he said, pointing to himself.
"Lucian," she repeated, and then pointed to herself. "Aliena." The name struck Lucian as the most perfect in the world. He reached out to touch her, but she recoiled, withdrawing from within the range of his fingertips. He boldly took a step towards her and tried again. She shuddered, but this time, she did not back away further. He moved his hand over the top of her shoulder. She placed her hand on top of his and looked up at him - she was a little less than his height - her eyes smiling. He grinned back.
She ended their touch (embrace? he wondered), turned, and walked away. He remained some distance behind, but followed. She approached a bush and plucked a berry into her mouth, chewing it as she walked. As Lucian passed the same bush, he copied her, plunging an identical berry down his own gullet. It was as he tasted the sweet flavor of the thing that he realized how famished he felt. He went back to the bush, and plucked several handfuls of the shiny, violet jewels from the generous branches, dropping one after the other into his devouring maw. He emptied the tree in a matter of minutes, filling his belly with the delicious morsels.
He turned to speak of the joyous taste of the berries to his companion, but she had disappeared into the garden's vast expanse. He dropped the remaining berries from his hands and ran after her.
He found her, later, curled up beneath the branches of a great, green oak, fast asleep. Not for the last time, she appeared to him a truly beautiful creature, perfect in every way. As he watched her doze, his own lethargy suddenly stuck him, do doubt induced by the meal of the berry bush. He fell to earth beside and blackness overcame him.
***
***
"In the garden of the stars / You were mine and I was yours / And we were both each others, ours / Beneath the green tree."
***
Lucian had awoken, terrified, in the twilit silence of the forest, with nothing to his name but his skin, and even the ownership of that remarkable organ doubtful. The beauty, the color, the overwhelming reality of existence had shocked and frightened him to his very core. The sweet- smelling air had suffocated him; the whispers of the wind had assaulted his ears; the glaring, utter sharpness in the green of the trees had been blinding; the tickle of the grass moving beneath him had made his skin shiver. He had lain there, as if dead, in the soft, lush grasses for hours beyond counting before the initial near-heart-attack of surprise and bewilderment had worn off.
Then, when he had found he could move, the enormity of the world he had unwittingly plunged into had become multiplied a hundred fold. The subtle change in perspective by tilting his head to the left, or by sitting up, or by closing one eye or the other, had astounded and confused him. Presently, he had found his legs moved as well as his arms and neck, and (after some brief practice) he had stood to view the world from a new height. He had learned then that there was even more to this paradise of the senses than the clearing he had viewed from the ground; from atop one's legs, he had found, one could see to even farther horizons than before. He had longed to expand his meager view even farther, and so, stumbling, he had taken his first step.
The ants, no doubt, could not have understood the mammoth pink appendage crashing down on their fortress of dirt and clay; nor could they have sympathized with the doddering, infant-like stumble of a creature's first footstep and let the owner of the invading foot off with a warning. Lucian, similarly, could not have foreseen the enormity of his mistake of targeting the ants' gray mound as the landing sight for his heel, and as the creatures had begun to climb up his heel, followed by his ankle and beyond, he had not immediately comprehended the prickly sensations of the creatures' legs upon his. Only when the first of the insects had angrily sunk its gnashing mandibles into Lucian's flesh had he realized that the tiny animals were not crawling up him in order to 'play'.
Like a racehorse, knowing for the first time the flare of pain delivered by whip to its hindquarters, Lucian had at once become aware of the unpleasant sensation of having one's legs gnawed by maddened insects. His face had contorted in anguish; the torment to the wounded area had been burning. His mind had erupted in the simple emotions of anger, agony - and fear. Instinct had told him to run from the source of this unpleasantness, and run he had, as fast as his inexperienced legs had been able to carry him.
He had climbed a hill and stumbled blindly down its far side, nearly spilling himself in its surprisingly steep recess. He had crashed blindly through the otherwise silent forests like some raging, primeval beast, provoking the unprepared bird population into the safety and solitude of the skies. He had staggered madly through the pristine world that surrounded him, and likely would have continued on in a similar fashion for some time had he not, by the purest accident, charged directly into a pond.
The cool water had jolted him from his flight, the freezing calm of the pool relieving, if momentarily only, the pain in his leg. He had immersed himself - slowly at first, then faster and with much rejoicing - into the welcoming shallows, and for the second time in his lifespan of twenty minutes, he had felt pure ecstasy.
It was then, as he was lying in the cold clarity of the pond, his senses once more in exultation of the world they had mercifully been allowed to sample, that a disturbance at the far end of the pool took his attention. A creature was washing itself in the more distant shallows, its forelimbs gingerly moving the soft caresses of the water of its fragile form. Lucian, by his own will or not, drifted nearer to the creature, his eyes full of wonder. The creature had not been disturbed, as the birds had, as Lucian had come crashing into the pond; nor had it seemed to have even noticed; nor had it noticed him as he lay bathing in the pool's cool stretches. The creature struck Lucian as very beautiful, more so even than the myriad other facets of the glittering world that had so enthralled his senses.
He drew up in front of the creature, and at once it noticed him. It did not, however, flee (as had the birds) or attack (as had the ants). Instead, it merely rose to stand erect in the water and stare at Lucian in interest. It seemed to Lucian suddenly that this was no mere dumb beast, but a being that possessed some innate intelligence. It also occurred to him in that moment that perhaps he did as well. Lucian wondered if the same realizations were go through the creature's mind at that moment, for its eyes glowed with cunning and curiosity.
It is studying me, Lucian realized. And I am studying it.
Speech is a strange thing, and Lucian was not aware he was capable of it until the word 'Hello' tumbled awkwardly out of his mouth. The sound was not random, he assured itself; but though it had been spoken seemingly by instinct, he could derive no meaning behind the word. The creature, however, seemed to make perfect sense of it, for it - she, he suddenly realized - blushed, and returned it with her own quiet 'hello, then'. She backed away a step, but kept her eyes on him.
He tried again. "Lucian," he said, pointing to himself.
"Lucian," she repeated, and then pointed to herself. "Aliena." The name struck Lucian as the most perfect in the world. He reached out to touch her, but she recoiled, withdrawing from within the range of his fingertips. He boldly took a step towards her and tried again. She shuddered, but this time, she did not back away further. He moved his hand over the top of her shoulder. She placed her hand on top of his and looked up at him - she was a little less than his height - her eyes smiling. He grinned back.
She ended their touch (embrace? he wondered), turned, and walked away. He remained some distance behind, but followed. She approached a bush and plucked a berry into her mouth, chewing it as she walked. As Lucian passed the same bush, he copied her, plunging an identical berry down his own gullet. It was as he tasted the sweet flavor of the thing that he realized how famished he felt. He went back to the bush, and plucked several handfuls of the shiny, violet jewels from the generous branches, dropping one after the other into his devouring maw. He emptied the tree in a matter of minutes, filling his belly with the delicious morsels.
He turned to speak of the joyous taste of the berries to his companion, but she had disappeared into the garden's vast expanse. He dropped the remaining berries from his hands and ran after her.
He found her, later, curled up beneath the branches of a great, green oak, fast asleep. Not for the last time, she appeared to him a truly beautiful creature, perfect in every way. As he watched her doze, his own lethargy suddenly stuck him, do doubt induced by the meal of the berry bush. He fell to earth beside and blackness overcame him.
***