Twisted Tales

Epiphyte

I now recite, the story of epiphyte.

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It was the only remaining tree that was green.

In the middle of the barren desert, It shone brighter than any emerald.

The protagonist of this tale, a young lassie who had been drinking ale,
in the narrows of the dungeon, avoided a blow from Old Harry's Bludgeon.

Snap

She thrust the length of her pole-arm, which had been hidden and sheathed,
Prying a brick off of the underground prison.

"Old Harry." She acknowledged, face serene, internally astonished.
"Harmen's Lass." The other side replied, pretending not to have just committed homicide.

A glance at the bodies strewn over, the red colour making an enclosure,
Harmen's lass almost doubled over in fright, the bloody mess seemingly done in spite.
She pointed her finger at the other, shaking unable to say a word.
The one pointed at, gave a smile, quite absurd.
She gaped and gawked, never getting her words out.
Finally Old Harry left her alone, letting her words unite.

Too late it had come, too late it was seen,
Old Harry had stolen the green city heart for a prized dream!

As she returned, dejected and full of fright,
The emerald of the desert slowly withered into blight.

The next day, the churches yelled, "Blasphemy! Blasphemy!"
The next day, the common folk yelled, "Blasphemy! Blasphemy!"

She had stood there and saw, it wasn't right, but Old Harry had taken his measures and finally flight.

The common folk began their search, the church painfully urged and urged.
A remedy was found, price enough to astound.
But on the seventh day, disaster had inevitably fallen, and the lush green boughs lay ill and barren.

The sprites of the tree could take the suffering no longer, the escaped the city with all it's water.
Dying and Cursing, Living without breathing, eventually silence settled on the town which was now freezing.

Harmen's lass counted on her fingers, Darth, Reyi, Wiskon, Pultira, Hukaj...  50 of them had disappeared.
Food in the storage was running low, citizens were unable to hold onto morals and thus let go.

She had no family left, everyone knew, yet she looked on with sorrow at the town gone askew.

Harmen's lass braved herself up, took the only horse and wandered through the dead schmuck.

Day one she crossed the bridge and reached foretold heaven on day seven, yet Old Harry had left no trace of his procession.

Despairing she returned,only to find her hometown a morgue, buried in a fjord.

Left with no option, she returned to the intersection.

The signboard read, "eternal heaven" and pointed to the left, but she was disbelieving and took the right.

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Entering damnation, she rapped at the knocker of the only house.

A demon popped his head out, uneven hair swaying in all its garish glory, "Who are you young lass?"

"It matters not who I am. Tell the way that leads to my future."

The demon widened its eyes, "You head toward fate!? Who told of the perilous path young lass?"

"None," she banged the girth of her weapon onto the hard, cold ground, "None, but mine pole-arm."

The demon scrutinised it and spoke, "Yes, yes! I know where your goal is!"

"Dawdle not, and tell me of the answer resident of damnation!" She urged impatiently.

The demon gave her a reply, somber, "lass, thine way is the way to the heart. It doesn't exist in hell. The intersection to eternal paradise is over yonder. That is thine way. Remember, follow the heart and it shall lead."

"Thank you kind sir." She replied and set on her way.

The junction lead her along a river.

On the first day she saw an old woman begging for alms. She was stooped and haggard, her eyes sunken.

Hearing the footsteps of Harmen's daughter, she cried, "Retreat traveller! You must retreat! The eternal paradise is not what it seems! Beggars like I roam the place, it truly is but a disgrace!"

Harmen's daughter listened to her woes and told, "I must follow my heart's road!"

The lassie passed her by after giving a bit of water, and slowly, so slowly, along the road the old lady tottered.

Harmen's daughter went on her way and soon day broke- it was the next day.

On the path she saw a thief painting, who heard her steps and quickly stopped her exclaiming, "Retreat traveller! You must retreat! The eternal paradise is not what it seems! Painters like I roam the place, we survive on nothing but few dates!"

Harmen's daughter listened to his woes and told, "I must follow my heart's road!"

The lassie passed him by after sparing some fruit, and the man gave her his only boot.

Like that days passed and turned into months, before Harmen's daughter saw eternal paradise.

Everyone were the same. Everyone grieved. The town walls were Porus like sieves.

Just as she entered, the old lady and painter, broke away from the crowd to greet her, the rest ran away helter-skelter.

"How!" The lass exclaimed, "how did you reach? Especially when I am sure we didn't meet!"

"I am Acheron, and this is Cocytus, you have followed the path to fate and shan't fight us" they chorused.

Harmen's daughter looked at the site, fall into darkness then eternal night.

Flowing from the green emerald was a light, under the moonlight shone the river Lethe, the truth of eternal paradise.

Forgetting everything Harmen's daughter fell into the blackness.

Then she found herself back in front of Old Harry's bludgeon.

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