Under the Crab-Apple Trees

“It is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning” - Mary Oliver

Once upon an orchard…

Erin woke before dawn and raced through the manor’s fields. The dew tickled his feet like a friend as the sun rose and the orchard of crab-apple trees came into view. The trees were his only friends, their branches felt his sorrows, and their leaves brushed his cheek in sympathy. He watched the sunrise as he listened to the burble of a nearby stream, replaceing its way through the orchard. He stroked the crab-apple tree’s bark as he had done every morning since he could remember.

Too soon, the birds announced that it was time to go, and he ran to the sullen stone house of sorrows in the distance. As he ran, the milkman passed him on his cherry red bicycle, calling a distant greeting. When he reached the dark oak door, it was flung open, to reveal a woman in a steely gray dress of common cotton, and an equally steely smirk.

“So, you are back!” She said in a snide slippery tone that reminded Erin of the eels of the nearby River Florence. Her dress was adorned with the badge of the town’s small clinic, and Erin knew something must be wrong, because the nurse never greeted him at the door. The nurse had lived with them ever since Erin was a young boy, yet it seemed that she had done nothing to help the sickly woman. Day by day, hope trickled from Erin’s heart, as the life trickled from his mother’s body. The orchard was his escape from the looming doom that seemed to block out the horizon like a dark tsunami of fear. The woman took a vice grip on his shoulder and dragged Erin up the dimly lit stairs, and to what waited above.

The landing smelled of rotting food and stale milk. It had been long since his mother had touched a broom to the old floorboards of his home, and the nurse was of no help outside his mother’s room. Dust carpeted everything like a blanket only broken by an occasional footprint. A row of dark doors lined the hallway. The odd couple, the old and the young, the white-haired and the black haired, strolled to the down the lonely hallway to the last door on the right. The woman turned the bronze nob on the door to the right, and they entered. This room was spotless. Not a single speck of dust rested on its wooden floorboards. The only piece of furniture in the room was a bedstead made of the same dark wood that everything was made of in the house. The bed held one occupant, a very pale woman, who seemed to be sleeping. The golden hair that curtained her face was only broken by two pointed ears. Erin rushed to her side, a shocked look adorned his face.

“Mother!” He said in a worried tone, but the woman’s life was out of his reach, and her soul had left her body. Her face was pale with death, and her once blue eyes were closed. Sorrow broke upon Erin. His whole mind collapsed under the pressure of sorrow, and he ran like he had never run before. Out of the house full of ghosts, through the field of his tears, and to the place he has always loved, the orchard. He rushed to the bottom of his favorite tree, the one that was not in the orderly lines that the others were the one with one last apple, a golden beautiful thing, catching the first rays of the young sun that made it shimmer. Erin snatched the apple from its branch and took a bite. It happened so suddenly, that it was all a blur of color and noise. He was falling, down, down, down, down.

Then suddenly he was lying on his back in a courtyard sparkling with gems. Small spikes of pain shot up his back, and he thought he could see stars. Surrounding him were patterns of flowers inlaid into the floor, with petals of diamond and leaves of emerald. Above him stretched a blue sky with not a wisp of cloud touching its purity. All around him stretched a building of adobe, with arches on its first floor, and glassless windows on the floor above. Its roof was made of surprisingly orange tiles that reflected the heat of the sun. To his left, he could hear an ocean, which he thought was just over some large cliffs that he could see in the distance through small arches in the building wall. He could smell a salty breeze and fish crackling on an open fire.

A lady with an earthen brown face, pointed ears, and black hair that shimmered in the sun. She stared at him with startlingly blue eyes.

“What is your name, young man?” she asked in a silky sweet tone which reminded Erin of summer breezes and freshly picked flowers.

“Erindel Asher Finn,” he said in a dazed tone, gazing around him at the flowers of the tidy courtyard garden.

“You have fallen a great distance, and may have some serious injuries,” she said, “I will need to move you so that I can heal you. You are safe, please relax.” Erin knew that she was to be trusted, and he let himself relax.

The Lady called three beings. What were they? Erin had never seen anything like them. They were about three feet tall and had long brown beards that reached to their toes. They gently lifted him into the adobe building and set him down in a small chamber with a bed and a bookshelf. It contained books with titles like; “The Undoing of the Dark” and “The Spell-casters’ Guide to Fungus” and “Spells That Make Your Hair Turn Blue”. He thought this might be a prank, for no book he knew of had titles like those. Soon after he was placed down on his stomach on the bed, the Lady came in. The Lady dismissed the Beings, and they walked out of the room quietly.

“While you are here, you shall call me the Lady,” the mysterious woman said. “You have nothing to fear. I will heal you, then you must come with me.” She took out a small bottle filled with golden liquid. She poured some of the liquid on a cotton ball, and put it on Erin’s back, under his shirt. Almost instantly, the spikes of pain vanished, and Erin was able to move again.

He got up from his bed, following the Lady who had put away the magical liquid. He walked along after the Lady, and soon they reached an iron spiral stair in a small closet, barely noticeable. “Follow me,” said the Lady, stepping onto the stairs. As they walked down, each stair glowed with a different colored light, so that when the reached the bottom, a whole rainbow had appeared. Erin tried to think of what could have brought him to this strange world of Beings and magical staircases. The last thing he could remember was eating the golden apple.

Erin was rocked from his thoughts by a gentle shove from the Lady. In front of them was a silver door that seemed to glow. The Lady took out an ornate silver key, made of spirals so intricate, no human hand could have made it. The Lady turned the key clockwise three times in the ornate silver key hole, and the door swooshed open. Behind the door was a glowing silver chamber, and in the middle of the chamber was a glowing silver chest. He and the Lady walked into the room. All of the glowing light reflected off the Lady’s silver robes and made the room look oddly eerie.

“When I open the chest, you must look inside of it.” The Lady said, “This is crucial.” Erin did not know why he had to look in the strange box, but he decided he should trust the Lady. There was something about her that reminded him of his mother. The Lady opened the strange box, and without protest, he looked in. At first, nothing happened. But then the box started pulsing with white light, and a strange drawn out voice echoed around the room.

Picker of the last December Apple,

To Ysterra he shall travel,

Through boundless snow.

Many battles he shall face,

of the heart, and of the land,

And to the castle, he shall race,

in mountain, past hillock

Yet alone he must face the last.

The glowing eventually stopped, and the Lady looked shocked.

“That box only opens for Elven eyes,” she said in a quiet tone.

“Elves aren’t real!” Erin exclaimed.

“Yes, elves are real,” the Lady said. “I am an elf.” The Lady said, excited. Erin decided that this was all a dream and that he would wake up in the morning, and his mother would be sick, but still alive, and he would run down to the orchard and play with the birds. He pinched himself in an attempt to wake himself up, but he did not wake. Something must be wrong, Erin thought.

“Where are we?” he asked the Lady. The Lady paused, confused.

“Why, don’t you know?” she asked. “We are in the great land of Gernada.” Erin frowned. He knew of no land by that name.

“There is no such thing!” he said, frustrated that no one would tell him what was happening.

“Of course there is!” the Lady said in indignation. “We are standing in the land of magic right now! Has your mother ever bothered to take you here?”

“How do you know about my mother?” Erin asked, hurt and confused.

“Why, I am her sister!” the Lady exclaimed.

“No, you’re not!” Erin said. He was getting sick and tired of this little trick. “My mother was an only child! She had no sisters!” a look passed over the Lady’s face.

“She never told you,” she said in a quiet tone. “You must know.”

“Know what?” asked Erin. Now he was really angry. “My mother would never keep anything from me! You’re a liar! A big, fat, liar!” Then he ran. Up the spiral staircase he fled, and then he ran down the corridor. He wanted to go home. The Lady raced after him with unnerving speed, and then caught him by the arm.

“Let me tell you of her!” she said, panting.

“I don’t want to know!” said Erin, dissolving into tears.

The Lady sighed and brought him into his room.

“It’ll have to wait,” she said, with clear disappointment in her voice. Then she quietly closed the door, and Erin was left to sob alone. This was a very bad dream, thought Erin, as he sat down on the bed. He lay down, and shortly after, he fell into a deep sleep.