The Chronicles of Edwin, Ch. 7 "Of Flowers and Other Pretty Things"

Edwin woke up.


It was a strange, strange place but very familiar too.  It was sickeningly beautiful like the mad world of a kaleidoscope.  The grass was green and speckled with thousands of flowers which seemed to change color as they blew in the wind.  The smell they gave was so crisp, not repugnant or oppressive as so many scents of this sort can be.  There were three ancient spiraling great oaks standing guard in the middle of the field.  To the east lay the virgin leaves of a vast forest, to the north lay sleeping hills, to the west a gossiping brook, and south the horizon married green and blue at infinity.  The land was teeming with life.  A myriad of insects clicked, buzzed, chirped without a care in the world.  Meanwhile a bluebird in full bloom danced and sang in desperate strains for the mate he craved.  How beautiful he was, so blue he made the sky retreat in envy.  A true testament to his maker who so thoughtfully wrote his features, every hue with a purpose.  Even the feel of the soft grass squealed of her maker's glory.


There he was, Edwin, sitting in the garden of Eden, or some such other primordial garden.  He thought at first of how good it was to be alone in a place like this.  Peacefully listening to the song of the lovesick bluebird.  But he grew restless and like the little blue romantic, Edwin longed for company, for companionship.  He sighed as he settled down against one of the three great sentinels.  It was such a lazy morning, full of life.  Edwin saw that there was a box of crayons and a pad of paper lying next to him.  He picked them up and painted the landscape in a childish scribble.  Then without so much thought, he added to it his longing imagination.  The triangle for a dress seemed peculiarly adequate for the scene.  She was green.


As Edwin put down the tools of his imagination he was surprised to see her running towards him through the flowers like a romantic.  She had soft lavender skin which the wind timidly caressed.  Her burning pink eyes twinkled beneath bangs of her beautiful flowing bright green hair.  It fell like fine grass down to her waist and danced about her shoulders and hips enchantingly.  Atop her head lay a dainty laurel of budding clover.  Around her waist she wore a woven grass belt, just two shade darker than her dress which fell down about her ankles, revealing her bare feet brushing the grass sweetly as she ran.  Finally she stopped a few yards away, smiled cocking her head slightly, and plopped down in the grass and shade, dress all proofed with the sudden drop.


Edwin realized that his mouth was wide open and he was staring, she was beautiful, and he was blushing brightly at this realization.  After a quick mental slap in the face, he straightened up, smiled, and said hello.  He would have said more, bumbling about as one does when forced to speak more than one's mind has room for, except she held one finger to her mouth and pointed up.  Following her eyes Edwin observed that the bluebird had found a friend and they were dancing, haltingly as birds do.  All of a sudden a warm hand takes his and he is whisked about in a flowery wonderland.  Music begins, first distantly, then it grew stronger and the melody pranced about inviting all who heard to join in rapturous dance.  And so they did, Edwin and this forest nymph.  He knew not how or why he knew the steps, but their dance was flawless, invigorating, so full of life.  After many twirls and elegant bows the fell in the grass, breathing heavily, they let the tender shoots support their fragile bodies.  They lay there like that, hands clasped, her right in his left, for what seemed like an eternity.


When finally they did sit up, they just stared at each other.  It seemed as though they were having a deep and penetrating conversation through their eyes.  The meaning could be easily interpreted, but the words, inexpressible.  Then a shadow was cast over the scene, the bluebirds fled in a flurry of feathers, then another character entered the scene.  A faun strode up.  He had thick brown fur from his waist to his cloven hoofed feet, a well defined athletic body, sharp beard defining his jawline, fiery brown eyes, mossy brown hair, and two crooked antlers on his head.  The young buck stared Edwin up and down, sizing him up in disgust.  No words were spoken, his carriage spoke for him.  His furrowed brow said she was his and his crossed arms said he was ready to fight for her.  Edwin hesitated at this confrontation, releasing the hand he had held to dear.  As if this were the sign the faun had been waiting for, he strode forth to claim his prize.


He whisked her up into his arms and held her there.  She would not return his stare, however, and looked away in disgust.  Riled by this rejection he struck her across the cheek and sent her spiraling to the ground hurt and her beauty marred by dripping blood.  Edwin watched at first in shock, then in anger.  The giant's blood within him came rushing into his limbs setting fire to his heart.  Edwin was a guardian in name, and in birth, now in life.  All selfish reasons were lifted with that blow and pure violence surged forth.  Edwin sprung up, and as he did so, struck his opponent with a sharp uppercut cracking his jaw.  This blow did not deter the faun at all, only stunned and enraged him all the more.  They fought for an eternity as she watched in horror, her screams muted by their exertions.  The beast put up an admirable fight, but eventually the giant's son dealt the final blow.  A right hook, filled with the tears and pent of feeling of a thousand generations long passed, shattered two ribs and ruptured the liver.


The faun fell to the ground, defeat in his eyes.  He limped off glaring resentment at every wince.  Edwin stood watching, panting, till the faun was lost in the distance.  The scenery had changed.  It was now sunset on a fine autumn day.  Bright oranges, crimson, and deep burgundy.  The sentinels stood balding, surrounded in their fading glory.  And there amidst the leaves lay the fairy queen, faded, wilting like so many flowers starved of life.  Edwin ran to her and fell beside her.  He caressed her arm as he pulled her gently to him.  There the sat for a moment.  Then she looked up and stared deep in Edwin's walnut eyes.  She understood him, or so he fancied, in that moment in time.  For her expression softened and her eyes twinkled lovingly, appreciatively, pityingly, supportively.  Edwin felt a well of emotion burst forth within him.  As his heart quickened and his senses sharpened, she leaned in.  Her eyes closed, he could feel her breath mixing with his.  Then...


Edwin woke up.