Ambrosia

by Aaron Lee Yeager

  A cold cup was shoved into her hands, and she looked down to find Screpio giving her a sly grin. “So, THAT’S why we’re here, huh?”

  “W-what are you talking about?” she stammered, her face blushing green. “I just wanted to listen to the music.”

  “Uh-huh, yeah.”

  She took a long incredulous drink and tried to ignore her burning cheeks.

  “Why don’t you go talk to him?”

  Autumn gagged on her drink and nearly drowned herself. “Are you crazy? I can’t do that!”

  “It’s easy, watch.”

  Screpio put his fingers in his mouth and let out a long whistle.

  “No, don’t you idiot!”

  A dozen heads turned to the source of the noise.

  “Hey, Cedar,” Screpio waved, “come over here, would you?”

  Autumn felt like she would die of embarrassment.

  Cedar politely excused himself from his group of friends and walked over. He was even taller in person, and much more muscular than he seemed from a distance.

  “Hey, Cedar, you arrived last month with the group from Riverbottom, right?” Screpio asked.

  “Yeah, we’re still getting used to it all. It’s so different here.”

  It was all Autumn could do to keep from running away.

  Screpio stepped up and they clasped hands. “My name is Screpio. And this is my big sister, Autumn.”

  Cedar turned and smiled. She could feel his eyes looking over her leafy hair of golden yellows, reds, and browns. It was a dead giveaway to her mixed heritage.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you,” he said pleasantly.

  “Same,” she squeaked, her voice breaking.

  Screpio slapped them both on the back. “Hey, why don’t I go get something roasting for dinner for us? I’ll be right back.”

  He walked away, fully obvious that he never planned to return. If Autumn could have set him ablaze with her mind, she would have done so.

  Cedar motioned to her hair. “Hey, I’ve heard of you. You’re the half-a, right?”

  She frowned. “I’m a part of the forest, same as you.”

  He held up his hands. “All right, all right, I didn’t mean any offense. It’s just I’ve never met a forest nymph with a human parent before.”

  “It’s all right, I’m just a little sensitive about it.”

  “I mean, hey, this is a new forest, right? I heard the council is going to let in another group of human refugees. That should annoy the old-timers.”

  “Yeah, I just hope they’ll be careful. We want this place to stay hidden.”

  “They’re being super careful, don’t worry. When my group left, none of us had any idea where we were going or exactly how to get there. I have a feeling this place will be secret for a very long time.”

  “I hope so.”

  They looked up at the great tree. He was so close, she could feel the heat coming off his body as he stood beside her.

  “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he commented. “That heart of the forest was made from human blood. I guess that’s why you can be here, even though you’re half-human.”

  “Will you not call me that?”

  He held up his hands. “Sorry. It’s just new for me, that’s all.”

  “Okay.”

  Cedar stood there for a moment, watching the heartbeat of energy pulse out from the great tree through the forest. “Your parents grew that, right?”

  Autumn looked up. It had become rather commonplace for her, but seeing Cedar react to it let her see it with new eyes. “It’s their life’s work.”

  “Hey, since I already put my foot in my mouth twice, mind if I do it a third time?”

  “I dunno, can you?”

  “I can certainly try.”

  Autumn found herself laughing in spite of herself. Something about the confidence with which he said it was so disarming. “Yeah, go ahead.”

  “What’s he like, your human father? I’ve heard so many stories about him. They say he was the strongest human that ever lived. A champion who could defeat anything. A god-slayer.”

  Autumn didn’t respond at first.

  “I did it again, didn’t I?” Cedar asked. “Told you I could.”

  She laughed again, quieter this time. “No, it’s not that. It’s just…”

  She looked up at the heart of the forest. “It’s just that all of that was before I was born. I only knew him after he came here.”

  “What’s he like now?”

  “He’s quiet, but thoughtful. When you talk to him he gives you his full attention, as if you are the most important person in the world to him. He loves to listen to what you have to say. He doesn’t say much himself, but when he does, it’s always important…”

  Autumn’s eyes became distant. “I catch him crying sometimes, when he thinks he’s alone, sitting quietly by himself. He never makes a sound. He doesn’t want anyone to pity him. I think he worries that we won’t be happy if we know how much he hurts all the time.”

  It frightened Autumn how forthright she was being, but when she saw the way Cedar was looking at her, it eased her insecurity.

  “He sounds like a good man,” Cedar commented.

  Autumn smiled, her eyes growing moist. “He is. He’s the best.”

  Cedar looked at her and grinned.

  “What?” she asked, self-consciously tucking a stray leaf behind her ear.

  “I just noticed, you have blue eyes,” he commented.

  She looked down shyly. “Yeah, it’s pretty strange, I guess, for a nymph to have blue eyes, huh?”

  She glanced up, expecting him to agree, but instead found him smiling warmly at her.

  “Actually, I think it’s beautiful.”

  Her eyes went wide with relief. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.”

  She felt her heart erupting with feelings inside of her chest. So many emotions she didn’t even know what to feel or in which order. The music started up again, louder and faster than before, and her heart fell in sync with it.

  “Hey, would you like to dance?” Cedar asked, offering his hand.

  She looked like she might burst.

  “I’d love to.”

  * * *

  Philiastra stood over a small plot of land at the edge of the forest, a tombstone placed at the boundary between the olive grove and the forest. Her little boy Linden clung to the folds in her dress, while her newborn Bayden slept peacefully in her arms.

  Leaning on his cane, Storgen made his way up behind her, and slid his strong hand around her waist, giving her a little kiss on the cheek.

  “Thank you for being here,” she said. She had never felt more gratitude in her life than she did at that moment, having him by her side.

  “It is the anniversary,” Storgen responded, giving Linden and Bayden a kiss as well.

  Storgen took out a single potted flower, and set it down beside the tombstone. Hitting the release switch on his prosthetic arm, the hook folded back in and a spade flipped out. Carefully Storgen dug out a small hole, then replanted the flower within.

  “Can I water it?” Linden asked with his tiny voice.

  “Yes, of course.”

  Storgen handed his son a watering can, and they all watched as the flower soaked in the moisture.

  Storgen grabbed his cane and painfully got back up on his artificial legs. The clouds parted and the moonlight came out, revealing the name on the tombstone.

  It read, Wei.

  “Who was this, mommy?” Linden asked with his adorably large blue eyes.

  Philiastra looked at her son softly. “He was a victim. He was my friend.”

  Storgen let her lean her head against his shoulder. “You tried to save him, Phili.”

  “Yes, I did. That is the only thing that makes me feel better.”

  She closed her eyes. “But I failed. That is the thing I regret.”

  Storgen gave her a kiss, and she felt the weight of her sadness become lighter.


  “Come on,” he bade. “It’s bedtime for the littles.”

  Philiastra gave a good satisfied grunt as she sat down into her rocking chair with Bayden in her arms. They could live anywhere on the island now of course, but she preferred this house. It was small and lacking in many ways, but she and her husband had built it with their own hands when they first arrived, and that meant the world to her. Her workshop as right down the hall, the fragrant scent of machine oil a permanent fixture in their house. The murals on the walls were a testament to Storgen’s dogged determination. The most recent ones were beautiful, a family portrait done with exquisite skill, the colors warm, and the atmosphere light. Being in this place just felt right, a spiritual belonging unparalleled by any magic or song.

  Storgen tucked Linden into bed, then helped Screpio and Aspen say their bedtime prayers before giving them each a kiss as well.

  Philiastra beamed with love as she watched her husband. She doted on him with all the love a wife can give. It was all she could do. Storgen’s wounds had changed him. They ran deeper than his scars. His laughter hadn’t returned, even after fifteen years. It probably never would. But his smile had come back. He carried the burden of his wounds with a quiet dignity, never complaining, never whining, but always silently regretting. Even after all this time, Philiastra couldn’t find the heart to bring it up, and since he never spoke of it, it all just remained unsaid.

  Storgen cupped her face with his hand and kissed her passionately. Her heart sang with joy at his touch, and she looked forward to spending some time alone with him once all the kids were asleep. She had always assumed he would be somewhat timid when it came to physical intimacy, but boy, was she wrong. Two layers of soundproofing had to be installed around their bedroom after she discovered how passionate he was in bed.

  Her body burned with excitement as he kissed her. Even after all these years, his passion for her had not dwindled, and in many ways, the life they had built together only made it burn brighter than it ever had before.

  The door opened quietly and Autumn came in, practically floating with happiness as she hummed and sang to herself.

  “Where have you been all day, young lady?” Philiastra asked curtly.

  Autumn spun on one toe, lost in her own little world. “Oh, you know, just hanging out with people.”

  “Who?”

  “Oh, you know…people.”

  Philiastra wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. “You should have let me know where you were. We can communicate through the trees, it’s not like it would have been that hard to reach me.”

  Autumn grabbed a cookie and rolled her eyes. “What about dad? He was up all night painting again, aren’t you going to scold him?”

  “Your father is different. Don’t try to bring him into this.”

  “My goodness, mom. You just let dad do whatever he wants. Why can’t I?”

  “Because he’s my husband and you’re my daughter.”

  “You’re too easy on him, mom. You refuse to say anything bad about him, even when he messes up.”

  “Don’t try to change the subject. Where were you and who were you with?”

  Screpio and Aspen giggled beneath their sheets. This was about the fiftieth time this particular debate had played out, and they enjoyed keeping score as they listened through the walls.

  Storgen worked his way painfully into his chair. “Did you have fun?”

  Autumn turned her head, bits of cookie falling free from her lips. “Hmm?”

  “Did you have a good time?”

  Her face grew into a stupid smile. “I had the BEST time!”

  Storgen smiled. “Then I’m happy for you.”

  Philiastra shook her head in defeat.

  Linden perked up. “Dad, tell us a story!”

  “You want a story?”

  “Yeah!” Screpio seconded, bouncing up and down.

  “Story time!” Aspen cheered.

  Gaetan and Phyllis heard the commotion and came in to listen, leaning against one another in reverential bliss. Even Autumn sat down to listen. Story time was one of the few times Storgen really opened up.

  “Well, what story would you like to hear?”

  “How about the one where you fought a Minotaur!” Aspen suggested. That was her favorite.

  “Or the one where you got Ambera demoted to the goddess of outhouses!” Screpio always loved that one.

  “How about the one about how you and mom met?” Autumn requested.

  Storgen looked at Philiastra and smiled. “Well, where should I begin?”

  Philiastra blushed with embarrassment. Gratefully Storgen always left out the fact that she had been dumpster diving at the time.

  Storgen took little Bayden in his arms, and let Aspen and Linden snuggle up alongside him. He placed his hand on top of Philiastra’s, and their fingers intertwined.

  “The world is a big and scary place,” he began. “It’s full of injustice, it brims with violence, and overflows with deceit. But, just because the world is that way, it doesn’t mean you have to be that way, too. If you can find someone to love, a true ally to stand beside, you can make a little place where you can live out your days in peace. A safe place. A place where you can laugh, a place where you can sing, a place where you belong…”

  “A home.”

  The End

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Poets and scholars have wasted their lives trying to understand the ingredients of attraction and compatibility. But passion need not be understood, it need only be felt. It requires no equation, it necessitates no explanation. Like magnetism or gravity, it simply exists, drawing two people together powerfully and inexorably. It is an elemental force as real as fire, as enduring as rock, as powerful as the tides, as nourishing as air.

  - Parable from the Holy Scrolls of Soeck, Fifth Binding, Tenth Stanza

  “Erolina,” Storgen answered as he lay in his bed. “It was her voice that rang clear in the void. It was her feelings that drew me up out of the abyss. From the moment I met her, I was more attracted to her than to anyone else I’d ever met. No, I was more attracted to her than I could be to anyone else. Yeah, that feels right to say.”

  “She is beautiful,” Cornett commented.

  “She is, but it goes deeper than that. It was her mind and soul as well. I can’t really explain it, but I knew. I knew from the moment we met there would be something between us. I guess it scared me. It wasn’t part of the plan. She walked into my life like a typhoon, and blew away everything I had been working for.”

  Storgen held up his remaining hand and looked at the scars. “She and I are both broken, Cornett. We’re both carrying deep scars. I think that might be a part of why we get along so well. We understand each other, on a very deep level. Neither of us had any control over our lives. Both of us had to learn to fight to survive. We’re warriors, but we resent being warriors, even if we don’t always care to admit it. I think our hearts recognized that long before we did. After all, you cannot help heal a wound you don’t understand. But we both understand, and we might have been truly happy together.”

  Storgen dropped his hand to the bed. “But I let my mind get in the way of what my heart instinctively understood. I see that now. I tried to reason away the passion I felt towards her. I tried to logically dismantle what I felt, and for that I was sorely punished. I should have had the courage to follow my heart, but I didn’t. I stubbornly stuck to the plans I had made. I pushed Erolina away, even when she offered me what I knew I really wanted…what I really needed.”

  Storgen covered his face. “I’m a blasted fool, Cornett. A sad, pathetic coward. I found a kindred spirit, someone I could lean on as she leaned back on me. Together, we could have tracked our own path, and found peace and healing. We could have traveled the world and discovered who we were really meant to be. Together, we could have been truly happy. She offered me exactly what I needed, and I treated her like a bother, an obstacle to what I really wanted.”

  Sto
rgen’s head snapped back to sneeze. Instinctively, he tried to cover his mouth with his right hand, but, as he no longer possessed a right hand, he instead sneezed onto his chest.

  “Here, let me get that,” Cornett offered, grabbing a towel.

  Storgen looked at himself in disgust. “Look at me. I have to be cleaned up like a baby now.”

  Storgen stared at the stump of his right arm as Cornett cleaned him up. Even the immortal River Guardian had to turn away from the pain that swam in Storgen’s faded eyes.

  “Now I have nothing left to offer her,” Storgen said, his eyes swimming. “I’m just a worthless cripple.”

  Cornett sat back, trying to find the right words to say. “That girl truly loves you, my boy. I’ve never seen anyone cry as deeply as she did over you. And that was after you were hurt, not before.”

  “The man she loved is gone. This worthless old stump is all that’s left. What can I offer her now? She deserves as equal to stand by her side, to fight alongside her. If I go back to her now, I would be nothing but a burden, a sack of rocks for her to carry around. A millstone hung about her neck. How can I do that to her?”

  Cornett put his glowing hand on Storgen’s shoulder. “If you really believe that, then maybe you still don’t understand her.”

  Storgen turned his head to look out at the tree on the patio. “She was right, Cornett. Love isn’t some mystical or predestined thing. It’s sublimely simple. Profoundly uncomplicated. Our heart knows what it needs, and passion shows us the way. These strong feelings of attraction illuminate the path before us that leads to what we truly need. It’s like an oasis in the desert, inviting us to drink deep and experience the joy that love offers. And it’s available to everyone, if we have to courage to let go of our fears and allow ourselves be swept away. That’s why I didn’t recognize it for what it was. I was looking for a fairy tale. I was expecting the heavens to part and a voice to tell me that this was the person I was meant to be with. I was so focused on my dream of a destined true love, that I ignored the immense attraction I felt towards Erolina.”