The Garden

A place of lost souls

[gardenoftheknight]

The wedding had gone off without any problems and as the sun began to set and visitors paid their farewells and well wishes. The Knight and his bride slipped away from the chatter, their hands clasped together and bright smiles on their faces. He pulled her close as they neared the stairs and swining a arm under her legs swept her up into his arms to carry her up the stairs. Her face pressed to his shoulder as she giggled in that way that lit up his heart. He put her down on her feet before the threshold and opened the door and as he turned already in the room to pull her back into his arms he stopped dead.

She was gone and throught the doorway was no longer the courtyard where he had married but a confessional booth.

[gardenoftheknight]

The Knight found himself outside the garden, no longer in his armor but dressed in fine clothes. This place was one he knew well on a day of joy and merryment. The day he married his wife.

The castle was crowded with happy townsfolk, drinking and eating on the dime of his father and soon to be father in law. His fiancee was waiting, he remembered that. He had kept her waiting on the day, a friend of his, one whom would later disrespect his wife and die in a duel, had asked of him a favor. It wasn't supposed to take so long but it had nonetheless.

He broke into a sprint knowing how much it bothered her to have had to wait for him. He hadn't minded the scolding not from her nor his own father but the look she had on her face when he had arrived had made him feel more guilt than the first time he felled a hare while hunting.

One man near jumped out of his way and the wispers followed him as he hurried up the steps into the main courtyard.

There she was in a beautiful blue gown with golden laceing. He had barely winded himself in the short sprint but the look of relief that she gave him stole his breath away.

[gardenoftheknight]

The Knight held his sword, one hand on a blade with smears of brown blood on the flat, the other on a hilt well cared for and well loved. His armor's shine was dulled by scratches, lance, spear, sword and mace all had failed to find their place.

The garden had fallen silent once more, blood seeping into the earth. The Knight waited prehaps expecting another chalenge, prehaps truly seeing where he was for the first time. Trampled plants in garden beds uncared for, his fallen foes lying strewn about, and what looked to be an exit.

The doors were almost as tall as the wall, oak wood set into pure white stone marred with streaks of old blood. Twisted ivy clung to the frame and reached outwards from the door finding new purchase in the stone.

He shifted, releasing the blade as he looked left then right. The Knight waited as if he was sure there was more to come and when it didn't he started forwards. He pushed the door open slowly and seeing no new threat on the otherside let the door swing closed behind him.

The garden stood alone once more, but it's Knight would return.

[gardenoftheknight]

Some belive thirteen to be unlucky.

If that was the case then how much skill does it take balence out bad luck?

The dead are truly dead and the garden has its first true guest. Finaly one to earn a name in this place, he shall be the Knight of the garden and this place the garden of the Knight.

[gardenoftheknight]

After ten had entered the garden it was clear a mistake that had been made, the next experiment would learn from this chalenge. Twenty bodies shambled around the garden, they would not rot for they would experience no time, they would feel no hunger and need no rest.

The garden was meant to be a rest for those who could earn it simply by killing their own walking corpse.

With each failure the challenge grew, what a shame... the next garden would be easier to access after this failure.

[gardenoftheknight]

Third and fourth, fifth and sixth. Day turned night and the garden's beauty wained as the shambling masses wandered her grounds. Unable to care, to mind their step. Crushing flowers, clawing at walls with hands that felt no pain even when rubbed down to the bone. White stone turned red then brown as high as they could reach, two corpses wandered for each who entered the garden.

To find peace here you must face your death.

[gardenoftheknight]

The second to arrive was much the same as the first.

Skilled at making tools, though mediocre at using them. He was felled in two minutes and six seconds, the garden was starting to show the wear from its new guests.

The fountain's water no longer ran clear.

[gardenoftheknight]

The first to arrive was of little note.

Previously someone who was consitered a skilled hunter by his family, this individual's time in the garden totaled six minutes and fourty three seconds.

The garden was no longer silent.

[gardenoftheknight]

The garden sits silent.

A small church made of pure white stone shines in the soft morning glow. Tall oak doors sit motionless, the pews hold red leather bound books at their backs new as the day they were made.

Outside are garden beds lined with stones, with rose bushes freshly trimmed and with blooms newly opened. A small fountain bubbles softly, water flowing down three levels before it pools at the bottom. White stone walls stand taller than any man surrounding the garden, its doors stand tall with its frame decorated with twisted climbing ivy.

The experiment shall begin soon.