Toiling among rosy briars, a lithe woman pours water. She watches it trickle through the thicket, slowly working its way to the ground, where a fraction of her labors are absorbed by the roots of her garden.
She peers longingly into the night sky, reading the stars as she would a familiar book, full of stories carried on the wings of time, fluttering across vast spaces between specks of light that filter through the celestial spheres sliding around the earth.
The moon waxes towards its completion, a grand pinnacle between two darks that crumble, letting loose pale fires that project men from their heights to fall into stinging fields. Her nose crinkles at the fetid fecund smell of old life being transmuted by her garden, accepting the harsh rays of heaven to release the dead.
A rustling breaks her reverie. “It is uncommon that another enters my sanctuary,” she thinks. She turns, sees none, but hears an unsteady voice speak, “The antlered man of dim disk has chased me here. He dare not enter, and I dare not leave.” She glances over her shoulder. “He has slain my kin, leaving only me to chase as though I were a fox.” She begins to cry. “Oh mother of the briar, please protect me from this base and heavy man!”
The lithe woman sets down her pitcher of water, and with regal airs, straightens her dress. “By the pillars, by the twelve, by the bright bird that rises ever again. By the moon, and by the sun, this I will do.” She walks with upright head toward a marble throne. The frightened woman follows. “But there is no escaping the nature of existence, the web of connections that is the essence of all things, and no things.”
At this the frightened woman laughs nervously. Trampling is heard among the foliage. “Haste!” she shouts, darting past the lithe woman, who still walks with measured surety. “He rides! He rides!” The lithe woman stops, and does an about face. She speaks as though she were reading a contract, “Oh antlered knight, if you are to enter my domain, do so with honor and dignity, or you shall be cast down like a bolt of lightning from the heavens.”
At her behest, the knight tightens his reins. His black stallion stiffens and stops. He bellows with firey breath “Mother of the Briar, I do hereby seek passage through your domain in suit of my rightful game. Upon its capture, I will trouble you no longer.” As he says this, rose buds open brightly to his left and to his right, breathing foul fumes into the night.
At this the Mother frowns. She nods to the knight who has spoken rightly. Her hands disappear into the folds of her robe, and return with a small stone ring. She holds it up to the moon and an orange light drips down her form, catching every fold of her vestments with eager grasp. “You have spoken cruel, but rightly, dark knight, and thus I cannot deny you.”
The knight’s smile can be heard through his helmet as he says, “Your action is just, Mother of the Briar.” With this he canters past the marble throne, humming a dissonant melody.
The dark knight spots a shadow spilling out beyond the marble throne. “Bother yourself not, fair child. You cannot out run the four corners of the earth.” His steed snorts. “Give yourself up, and your pains shall not be long.”
The frightened woman steps out from behind the throne. Her eyes glisten in the moonlight. “I am here. Take me.”
The knight lances forward, catching the woman beneath her arm, lifting her off her feet. He laughs. A tear rolls down her cheek, and she cries out “Have your wilted pleasure!” A tear falls into the stallion’s eye. The horse, now wild with fear, rears back and leaps into the thicket. Thorns tear at its legs. Red blossoms all over its flesh, like a rose garden in spring. Rivers flow from its skin, feeding the ravenous branches that curl in cruel smiles. The sobbing woman shrieks “May your bodies shed as many tears as my eyes!”
The horse crumples under the knight. A gasp leaves the polished armor, and falls into crackling branches.
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