The Tale of a Broken Man
By [
Madame Black]
Upon the death of his lover, a man sat in solitude awaiting his own decay and death. For the grief struck so near his soul that he felt he would not live much longer without her there. No food or drink had touched his lips and there were no more tears, for he had cried them all. No sound escaped his now parched lips, for he had uttered his last remorse. When he laid himself down and the last bit of strength seemed ready to diminish, he roused startled by a strange sound. His eyes and ears alert now, he paused and listened again, but what he heard he dared not imagine. Strength mustered one last tear as he unmistakably heard his dearly beloved's voice calling softly his name. She was alive, he knew that now. Reason made no difference, and how this miracle may have occurred did not matter, in his heart he knew that she was alive.
He stood slowly, for he had laid there some time and there was a stiffness in his muscles that could only mean fatigue beyond easy healing, but he was determined to find his true love. He must be strong now, with whatever he had left. At first he simply began walking aimlessly, driving forward with no particular place to go. He soon found that he had meandered eastward. The journey was long and tedious, but he trudged on tirelessly. Through toils and tumults, mountains and great cliffs, he found his way to the farthest east and to a point where he could go no further. He lifted his eyes and found that a massive Storm was approaching, rumbling and sweeping towards him. The wind began to pick up and at first it was soothing, but soon the blasts became unbearable. As the thick black clouds came closer, lightening and thunder exploded above his head. He lifted his hands and bade the stormcloud stop a moment.
"Great Storm, can you tell me where my true love is?" he called out with all his might. The storm reared and paused a moment, its black clouds swirling and lightening striking. A face formed within its midst and as it did so, the winds began to pick up, and he found that he could barely stand.
"No, I do not know where she is, but perhaps my neighbor the North will know," the storm called back with a crack of thunder. In his breath the wind began to tear at the man's clothes, tearing and tattering them.
"Great Storm, your winds are fierce and they tear my clothes. Will you halt them?" he asked as he shielded himself against them.
"I cannot," the Storm replied, "For I am a Storm."
Then with great strength, he gathered himself up and began his journey North. His muscles were sore and aching, and his clothes hung loosely on him. He was downtrodden, and his steps became longer and slower, for he had hoped the East would be able to help him. Hope shimmered in his heart as he thought that perhaps the North would know. He continued on, day and night through sands and deserts as far as he could see. Thirst brought him to his knees more times than he could remember and this thought became disoriented from the heat. Finally, when he thought he could bare the heat no longer, he found that he had reached the farthest North and he could go no further. The sun was low in the sky and he looked up, shielding his eyes from its brilliance, and thought to ask the sun. But as the sun slowly came closer, the heat became more intense and small fires sprang up around him. He lifted his hand as he fell to his knees and bade the sun stop for a moment.
"Great Sun, can you tell me where my true love is?" he gasped through cracking lips. Parts of his clothing now caught on fire and he brushed them off as they sprang up.
"No, I do not know where she is, but perhaps my sister the South will know," the Sun replied wearily, for its course was set for its rest behind the world. As the Sun spoke great flames erupted around him and the rest of his tattered clothes burned off into ashes and his skin began to broil.
"Great Sun, your fires are fierce and are burning my clothes and my skin. Will you quench them?" he asked as his hair began to singe.
"I cannot," said the Sun, "For I am the Sun."
As quickly as he could, he came to his feet and sped away, his feet blistering beneath him. Ashes lay behind him, the remains of all he had left. His mind ignored the pain he felt now, sad and sorrowful that he still had no news of his lover, but hoping again that perhaps the South would know. As the heat diminished behind him, his steps slowed even more, for it was a long way from the North to the South. As he slowly crossed the middlelands and stepped into the lands of the South, the land gradually turned from rock and stone to snow and ice. His feet were cooled, but now ached with cold. He hugged himself tightly, with nothing but his skin to keep him warm and tried to put it out of his mind, trying only to persevere to find his lover. Many times he lost his footing and fell hard onto the ice, but he always got back up and continued on. Soon he found that he could go no further and was as far South as he could go. As her brother the Sun was setting, the Moon now began to rise, fresh and brilliant in the darkened sky. As she began to rise a light snow began to fall. He lifted his hand quickly to halt the Moon, then replaced his hand, shielding his skin from the cold.
"Great Moon, can you tell me where my true love is?" he asked, shivering and barely audible. He was unsure whether or not the temperature dropped a little more as the Moon rose or if he was simply getting colder.
"No, I do not know where she is, but perhaps my neighbor the West will know," the Moon said softly, her voice like silver. As she spoke the snow began to fall more heavily, piling up swiftly around him. He felt as if he would soon die, stiff and unable to move much from the chill.
"Great Moon, your ice and snow is fiercely cold and I feel I will die soon. Will you melt them?" he begged as his eyes began to close.
"I cannot," replied the Moon, "For I am the Moon."
Stumbling as he trudged through the snow, he would have wept had his tears not been dried by the Sun and swept away by the Wind, but they would have only turned to ice while they were still in his eyes. For he had now but one hope and it laid in the West. For where could she be if she was not in the East, or the North, or South? But the elements had beaten down on him and while he was weak and near death when he began his journey, he was closer now than ever and it was not long before he merely walked out of habit, his mind outside his head. Many times he found himself simply standing still or fallen and had not realized he had ever stopped. As he moved slowly westward, plants of all kinds started growing up around him, creating a jungle, warm and moist, but making no difference to him. It was soon so thick with brush and trees that he could barely make any headway, squeezing through trees and thrashing his way through trapping vines. One such vine had him so entwined he at one point gave up and could only stand in a daze. But when he saw through the vine that there was beyond him a clearing and that in this clearing was the farthest West, he gathered what strength he had and ripped his way through and fell straight into the clearing which was a plane of deep, watery mud. The mud circled widely around a massive and old oak tree, who's roots stuck oddly out from the mud and who's bark was gnarled and twisting. The mud was so thick he could barely move in it and found that the closer he crawled to the tree, the harder it was to move his legs, but he approached the tree nonetheless and tapped lightly on one of its roots.
"Great Tree, I have walked across the breadth of the world and I have spoken to your brother the Wind, and your neighbors, the Sun and Moon, and none of them have been able to help me. You are my last hope. Can you tell me where my true love is?" he pleaded.
"No, I do not know where she is," the Tree said sadly, suffering herself under his pain.
The sadness in his heart was too much for him to bare. He had been so sure when he heard his lover's voice again that she was indeed alive, but he had found no trace of her. He nearly laughed at himself, realizing that it must have been some memory come back to his ears, or more likely, a bout of insanity, but there was nothing left within him. His legs were now cemented in the mud and even if he had tried, he would have found it impossible to move. He collapsed onto the roots of the Tree and with the sorrow in his soul, the world began to turn black and his spirit began to fade. Just as he took his last breath, he heard again his lover's voice. A sob escaped his lips for it was as cruelty against him and a tease, but it roused him nonetheless. She called again, over and over, pleading with him and calling his name. He covered his ears but it was no use, for the sound was not coming from the outside world. Much to his dismay, the sound was coming from within him. With a shocking revelation, and with the last ounce of strength he possessed, he tore and opening inside his chest and took out his own heart. As the blood poured down his hands and the heart beat but a few more times, a smile touched his lips as he died and on his face was a blissful visage. For he had realized in that moment that she was in his heart all along.
Stumble!