he giveth and he taketh away; a quest - closed.

[Hermia's Gold]

Hermia's Gold


It was all like a dream.
The first day still fresh in her mind.
The summer heat pounding on her golden skin, the ocean breeze weaving around her freshly soaked mane. The salt water still rolling droplets off a clipped coat. Humans were no where in sight and her black knight had thus far kept his word of a peaceful retreat safe from the horrors that had haunted her. Old injuries magically eased with salt water. She was at peace. A glittering youth that flowed into nature. She felt light as a bird yet as one with the earth as a tree, roots digging deep into soil with branches spiraled out in welcome to the sun.
Days like these should last forever.
Blue eyes closed as she licked her lips of salt and body turned to inland to find fresh water to drink. The annoyance with bathing in the ocean was one was always left thirsty and fresh water that actually nourished the body was a mile out.
Hooves, though, plunged into water after two paces. First: heart beat raced. Second: body froze; one hoof hovering over the ground. Third: fear raged forward, a thunder of adrenaline dictating something was amiss. Fourth: eyes flashed open.
A dancing river had transformed before her.
Blink.
It curtained up away from her, into the continent and floated into the ocean at peace. It mirrored her state of bliss entirely. It belonged there. It was at peace. It flowed gentle and without rush. The soft tune of Frank Sinatra seeming to coo gently up into the afternoon day, and with it her fear and confusion glided off and away. A small cloud quickly forgotten in the summer’s sky.
This new world had so many mysteries and she had since chosen to take it in stride. Besides, who could complain about such a picture perfect landscape. Flicking her head back she whinnied merrily along with the bliss of a love song and trotted upstream, down a bank of soft sand and sponged up the crisp water.
Then a figure came floating into the view of the corner of her eye. A beautiful creature with wisdom in her eyes. Her coat shone like the sun, it seeming to throw light beams from within. She was breathtaking, captivating, a mare that could clutch the fibers of every male’s heart with a simple smile.
“Mother!”
Hermia squealed with delight, rearing up and beating at the air with the drums of joy. Passion forgetting any sort of realism or doubt. Her mother had since died in a far away land of humans, barns and fences. How she had longed to race the wide open space of soft sand beaches with her mother and she ran into her embrace.
-
How stupid she had been not to question it. It was months before she paused to reflect on that day. There had been signs all over.
How did my injuries simply disappeared? A river magically appear right when I willed it? My deceased mother brought to life a trillion miles away from the home we had shared?
Stop it! Who cares. It is what it is!
Don't go ruining things for yourself.
Weirder things have happened.
You deserve it.
From that moment on she never thought about why it was happening but rejoiced in her world of perfection. Thus she built a kingdom.
A forest grew, that grew into a jungle, that grew into a rain forest. Trees grew the size of skyscrapers. Their branches molding into roads of bark in the sky, allowing the herd of the Great Hermia to live above land, within the shelter of branches. A whole society of horses that flowed from one tree to the next. Hooves never having to touch ground to get to one home to the next. They lived above ground in the canopy of the trees.
Her tree was the greatest of all. Most eastward and the tallest. It aged beside a cliff where The First River plunged from its drop and swelled at the base of The Great Tree. Her home curled in behind the water’s curtain and smelt of fresh mountain and youthful pine. The branches pressed against limestone. Flowers of bright yellow and delicate pink decorating the walls of stone. While the wood from the branch making up her floor was elastic that created zero impact on joints allowing one to feel like walking on air.
I am free.
If jealousy was an emotion capable in her paradise the birds would tweet envious gossip.
To the north rose mountains, majestic and strong that bred the likes of dragons and yetis, fierce packs of wolves and capable mountain lions. All of which kept from her throne of rainforest but allowed sport for the brave stallions that needed thrill and adventure. The constant snow encrusted tops shimmer in the distance. The rocky ledges underneath allowing a training field of endurance and strength and a shelter of safe solitude for the less social creatures of her kingdom.
To the east lay grass meadows that could feed trillions for decades. The long stalks rising to tickle hungry bellies. Apple trees spotting the rolls of land. Rich red globes growing abundantly in their arms. As years had passed powerful trees had begun to sprout wielding the pop of orange carrots that hung from branch allowing easy access to indulged horses.
To the south flourished the land where it had all began. Soft, white beaches that fell into a ocean the color of tropics. Palm trees dotted the land scape and fresh coconut juice filled rounded bowls of root at their bases providing shaded watering holes.
Everything was perfect. Love songs hummed in the treetops. Her children frolicked in ocean waves while her eldest child, a bold stallion of Hamlet bounced about the mountain tops with a squad of 4.
God creates dinosaurs. God destroys dinosaurs. God creates man. Man destroys God. Man creates dinosaurs. Dinosaurs eat man. Woman inherit the earth.............
Chaos.
The day it all began to end she woke with tendons that swelled and pounded against too tight of skin. The same pain from over exertion in her flight to Beqanna had long been forgotten from all those years before. She didn’t even recognize the return of the old injury for the significance of the beginning of the end.
As the years progressed her herd came more and more to her for help. Jealousy, envy, hatred, conflict began to create turmoil amongst the herd. A squad of police were set in place to govern the masses as her time was soon narrowing.
Mutations were a common sight first within the fellow inhabitants. Birds with two heads. Rabbits with fangs of wolves that preyed on the foals. Her powers kept her herd safe and thus began a weekly meeting where the sick and wounded would come to her and she with a simple touch would erase the abnormalities, the pain. Yet, she grew weak over time and soon these meetings were reduced to once a month, to just that of higher ranked members then to once a year for only the most extreme cases. Years later those she had healed for minor injuries became blind, disabled, and insane.
Her eldest daughter was killed by a disgruntled old mare, while the same month she labored for 12 hours to birth a still born colt. Thus, a part of her was ripped from her. A vital organ, a part of the soul, or something all together unnamed that held the body and soul together was missing. Time stopped, yet time barely moved. Everything was work. A headache swelled. Pulsed against her skull. Pounding to be felt. Hammering her pain.
So she stayed in her room behind the waterfall while the world began to crumble. The roads in the air crumbling, becoming hazards and forcing many to leave. Once beautiful, abundant plant life growing fangs and consuming the unobservant. Apples trees of the east died and seemed to plan collapse on the still healthy. The palm trees to the south grew poisonous and the waters dangerous with sharks and rip tides that pulled the unexpected down, to be lost in the dark blue.
Screams. Yelling. Cries of death. Cries of pain. Burning.
It chilled her bones, woke her from the state of isolation and she raced from her home. Up and up, spiraling higher and higher to the peak of the rainforest. Dragons. Ripping the trees from the roots, setting them ablaze then bombing down onto the rainforest. Onto her home.
STOP!
She couldn’t stop it. Usually a simple will of the mind was all that was needed. She cried out at the beasts, but the language was lost to them. Revenge waged war on the Land of Shakespeare. The eyes of her herd looked at her with disgust, hatred.
“You did this to us.”
-
The smell of burning finally pulled her out from the glare of a thousand eyes. She lay flat out on the soft sands of her home. Her coat was drenched wet from sweat. Her legs thrashed vertically still in the dream state of the flee. Eyes met blue sky, such a contrast from the dark that had been tormenting her only moments before. She rested still just a moment. A moments sigh of relief.
A dream.
The smell of smoke still blew strong, began to invade her lungs and choke her with invisible hands.
Not a dream.
She could feel the heat and the roar from the blaze. It’s power looming overtop of her, growing into a massive demon of fire that reached out with hooked fingers towards her. A moment of hesitation, the depression urging her to stay still, to join her children, her family, to finally rest and fully let the pain in her heart consume her. To stop fighting.
I don’t want to die.
The flight instinct once more kicked into high gear. From that moment it was as if there suddenly was a thousand hands pushing on her. Pushing her up. Pushing her off the ground. Pushing her forward. Faster. Faster.
Leaping over flames, bubbling creeks, crashing through saplings that tore at her skin. Her tail singed. Hind quarters sizzling, shooting flashes of pain. The flames having just began to lick at her flesh before flight. Vision blurred. The race was anything but a fairytale. She crashed through brush, and tore the side of her shoulder open upon attempting to dodge trees.
By the time she reached safety she was on last legs. Stumbling and coughing, vision having closed into just slits she fumbled to the ground and overlooked the disaster. The beauty of the light show. The beauty of the raw power of fire.
All was numb.




No more yielding but a dream