October 5, 2008
Solving the Problem of Evil.
Either God is a Trickster, or Man is Morally Stupid.
(Hey, no one ever said that the Tree’s Knowledge was heritable.)
April 10, 2008
The Green Land.
Elise Manning walked out onto the deck of the cruise ship, tugging her coat closed around her. It was a brilliant Antarctic morning; Elise was glad she’d come on this cruise. She’d wanted to take a vacation – how many people could brag about visiting Antarctica’s coast for theirs? It was the only exotic place left, really.
Glancing at the icy, rugged coast, Elise smiled. She bent down for a second to polish the lenses of her binoculars, then looked back out at the continent before her.
It was green.
Startled, Elise fumbled for the binoculars, barely able to focus them with her trembling hands. What had been the stark, frozen coastline of the world’s last continent was now a lush, verdant land, dominated over all by one giant … tree.
Elise lowered her binoculars, but she could still see it clearly; the tree was massive. Roots ran aboveground, the size of mountain ranges. In the distance, an immense trunk rose to the sky. Looking overhead, Elise could see huge branches spreading out over the land, impossibly far above. Something sparkled amid those distant branches; still trembling, Elise raised her binoculars once more.
It was a waterfall.
The branches were covered not in leaves but in mountains, seas, rivers… Some of that water trickled over the edges of branches, to fall to places below. Those waterfalls look like tiny trickles, thought the astonished woman, but if I’m seeing this right, they’re far higher than any mountain… What am I seeing? How am I seeing this?
Birds shrieked nearby; a wave rocked the boat. Elise stumbled. Clutching the railing, looking out toward the coast again, she saw that it was icy again.
She never mentioned the vision to anyone. She certainly never told anyone that, for the rest of the trip, the ghostly image of an impossible tree hung over the land.
The King’s Room.
Arawn stood in the hallway, staring into the depths of a linen closet. Bemused, I wandered over to him.
“What are you looking at?” I asked my twin.
Arawn closed the door and turned to face me, his eyes a puzzled gray-blue. He didn’t let go of the door knob. “This is the low wing of the castle, right?”
“Yes,” I said, playing along. That was usually the best thing to do when Arawn started acting strange.
“Built to add more multipurpose rooms, supposedly. That was just the official excuse, I think.”
“Eh?”
“Why is there a linen closet in the low wing?” Arawn opened the door and stood back to let me look inside.
Blank slate met my gaze. “That’s not a linen closet,” I said.
Arawn shot me a look. “That’s why I keep you around – your brilliance. That’s not stone, either.”
I knew that flecks of irritated orange were lighting up my eyes. “I know that. It’s a root of the World-Tree. I didn’t realize we were so close to it, though.”
“Neither did I.”
“Why…?”
Arawn raised a gloved hand. I fell silent. It was never a good idea to distract him when he was concentrating. Slowly, he stuck one hand through the root and turned to face me again. He was grinning.
“I didn’t know you could do that, did I,” I said flatly, nodding at his hand.
“Neither did I,” my brother said cheerfully. “But we’re about to get some answers.” He drew his hand back out, and I saw that he was gripping someone’s arm.
King Nathan stared up at us, indignation burning in his golden eyes.
“I thought so,” Arawn said with a toothy smile. He let go of Nathan’s arm a moment before Nathan would have moved away. Nathan, still silent, turned his stare on me.
I said the first thing that came to my lips. “I didn’t know you could pass through the World-Tree.”
Nathan sighed, a move perceptible only to those who knew him. “Landwights can pass through the flesh of the Tree, but not its blood. It’s living stone, of a sort.” He turned his blank stare back on my brother. “What are you doing here?”
“Trying to figure out why there’s a linen closet in the low wing,” replied Arawn, still grinning. Needling rulers was my brother’s favorite pastime.
December 30, 2007
The Serpent in the Tree.
This tree is beautiful.
Its trunk is strong and smooth, made of firm gray wood that puts all other wood to shame. Its branches part elegantly from each other, curving gently upwards, cradling the moon and the sun, growing the stars on their ends, shaded by bronzed emerald leaves.
The stars. They are beautiful, are they not? And mine are so much more approachable than those distant pinpricks in Heaven’s vault. The unenlightened call my stars golden apples, but those people have clearly never been close enough to see these divine fruits for themselves. There is no resemblance. Calling my stars “apples” is like calling a diamond “coal” because both are found under the ground. It’s ridiculous.
And my stars hold power — great power. The power to rock this world to its core, to knock those called gods from their thrones…
The power of incorruptibility.
No, that’s not a mistake. Immortality is a bitter pill — aging but never dying, falling ill but never knowing peace. Incorruptibility is different — it is the state of being untouched by time, death, illness, fatigue, or injury. It is immortality taken past its limits.
It is sought after by all who do not already have it.
Why else would I be here?
I am the Serpent, the one who rests my coils in the branches of this Tree, the one who has eaten of its fruit, the one who tirelessly watches over it, from leaf to root. I am the one who guards it from those who would seek to steal my stars — or those who would seek to destroy the tree itself.
I would do anything to defend my tree, my stars.
I would even damn you from the Garden for it…
May 29, 2007
Patterns.
“What are you doing?” Kaezia asked, leaning over her father.
Arawn didn’t even blink. “Watching the Tree grow.”
Kaezia looked askance at the sky, then looked back down at her father. “There’s nothing there.”
Arawn chuckled. “Spare me from world-weary ten-year-olds. Lay down.” He patted the ground next to him.
Kaezia flopped down with all the grace of a sack of grain. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”
“You’re not supposed to look at anything. You’re just supposed to look. Just … look.”
“Um…” Kaezia stared at the sky until her eyes burned. Nothing, just as she’d thought. She reached up to rub her eyes, but her father grabbed her hands.
“If they’re burning, you’re almost there. Keep looking.” Arawn released her hands and tucked his own back under his head.
Sighing, Kaezia kept looking. Her eyes began to water, and her nose began to itch, and just when she was really, really sure she couldn’t take it anymore … they cleared.
And the world was made of branches. They arched above her, they twined around her, they wove through her, and they were growing.
And then she blinked, and she lost it. The world was just the world again.
Her father was looking at her, his eyes a serious brown she’d never seen before. “Remember that,” he said.
Kaezia nodded.
Together, father and daughter went back inside and went about their lives. But in later years, whenever the Queen could never be found, the Fool always knew where to find her – out in the meadow, watching the sky.
