Cherry Blossoms

Despite his fear of seeing the cherry blossoms, Danny finally visits the home of Piers, to return the man's sword to his father, and to fulfil his final promise to the dead "knight".

Cherry Blossoms

 

Upon waking the next morning I felt better than I had the day before, but also much much worse. The throbbing pain in the back of my head was gone yes, but it had been replaced by a new and far more lethal kind of pain. Except replaced isn’t the right word, it was more like the physical pain had helped to distract me from my own regrets. Without it though, the only thing left to think about was the part of me that had died alongside Piers.

I had fully intended to get a good sleep that night to make up for the day before, however my mind disagreed with this idea. Nightmares of Katherine, Piers, and Symonds plagued my sleep and I awoke in a cold sweat after no more than an hours sleep. After that I was too afraid to go back to sleep, instead I departed to the spot where the Manhunter had told me to meet him in the morning. A small hill overlooking the forest, overlooking Piers’ forest.

“So here we are” I said quietly to Piers, who was half a meter from me, buried halfway to his hilt in the ground. “After all this time we’re finally here, and it’s spring too, so the cherry trees will be blooming”

Smiling I buried my palm deep into the ground and lifted a handful of dirt. The dirt was as black as death, although in the dim light of the morning before the sun has risen almost everything is. It was soft though, and as I let it run through my fingers I could feel him, he was after all a part of the earth now.

“I know I know, it’s taken me far too long to come here and I really am sorry” I replied. “We never decided when we were going to come here though, so you can’t really blame me”

I started to laugh slowly and quietly, but over time it started to build until I entered into a mixture of crying and laughing. The tears mixed into the black dirt, in the very same way that drops of blood would have.

“All I ever seem to be able to do is kill people Piers” I sobbed. “Whenever I try to do anything else it always just ends in more people dying because of me somehow, like you… and like Katherine”

 There was someone standing over the sword now, resting their hands upon its hilt and looking at me. Even though it was impossible to make out their face, or in fact, anything else about them in the darkness, I knew it was him.

“I know I say it every time we talk and it’s probably getting annoying, but I’m sorry Piers, I really am” I directed my words at the shadowy apparition of Piers, no reply came though, he simply continued to hover silently over his sword.

  “I used to think I could fix myself, that I could fix whatever the hell it is I am, but I’m not so sure anymore, the world just seems to keep bringing me to my knees and tearing me apart no matter what I do, and I think I’m only getting worse, I murdered that man yesterday without even flinching, and it made me feel better than I have in a long time…” I paused and looked away from Piers, too ashamed to look someone who was as good as him in the eye.

I could just make out a faint red glow upon the tip of the horizon, the sun was beginning to rise and light was starting to fill the world around me. The world within me though, was a different matter altogether.

“Now tell me, what am I supposed to do?” I spoke slowly while wiping away my tears and crawling up onto my knees.

The shadowy image was not so murky now that the sun was starting to rise, although Piers’ face was still covered in a cloak of darkness I could now clearly make out the shape and details of his body. He looked no different from the very first day I had met him, completely unchanged in every way save one. His shirt was torn down the middle to reveal his bear chest, and a scar marked the fatal blow that had ended his life. This was my mark, this was the one and only thing I had given to the young man, the gift of death.

After that I wouldn’t have been able to stop the tears even if I had wanted to, they scorched down my face in rivulets of fire, igniting the skin wherever they went. Piers continued to stand there though, and he watched me with both hands resting upon the pommel of his sword.

“You know, I would trade places with you if I could, even if it meant that I would never be able to bring Symonds to justice, then again knowing you you would probably go after him yourself if you were alive, you were just that good” he didn’t move an inch, but I swear he smiled.

“Just tell me Piers, what am I supposed to do to fix myself?” I asked one last time, rising to my feet and mustering the courage to face him.

At that moment the sun finally crested the horizon and light exploded across the sky and onto the hill. Now I could see that Piers had his arm outstretched and was pointing towards something in the direction of the sun. I followed his outstretched arm and found myself looking into a lush green expanse of trees, he was pointing to his home, to where I had to go.

I laughed, why had I even had to ask him, I already knew what I had to do, I had to fulfil my promise to him. “Taking your sword back will be a start” I said, once again facing Piers.

Much to my surprise though, I was talking to nothing more than a sword that was impaled into the hillside. The shadowy apparition of Piers was gone, vanished with the wind, and once again I was alone.

“And I get the feeling that talking to a sword isn’t going to be constructive either” I almost smiled at that comment but stopped myself, I didn’t deserve to smile.

Standing over Piers I placed my hands upon the hilt as his ghost had done, and looked out over the forest. Somewhere in there were the cherry trees, and on those very same trees would be Piers’ beloved cherry blossoms. Maybe promising the young man that I would go there with him one day had been a mistake. And maybe vowing to return his sword back home to his father had been another, but a promise was a promise, and I wasn’t about to let Piers down again.

“Good morning Danny!” Martyn bellowed from behind me.

I knew he’d been there watching me for a fair amount of time, he breathed rather loudly and wasn’t the lightest on his feet. I was grateful for the fact that he hadn’t interrupted my moment alone with Piers, but it nonetheless irritated me that he had been there at all.

“Morning Manhunter” I replied, making sure to dry my face before I faced him. “I trust you slept better tonight?”

He laughed heartily and cracked his neck. “Oh yes much better, I don’t feel quite so sore today, mind you I’m still rather tired from the women who shared my bed last night” he said with a wink.

“We both know the only woman who would share your bed my good man is your own mother” I jested.

The Manhunter stood quietly and brushed some dirt from the waistline of his trousers, carefully inspecting them as he did so. I could tell he was obviously trying to think of some witty reply to my insult, his brutish brain however was unable to do so.

“Still counts” he eventually replied, smirking so widely that I could see most of his gums.

I sighed. “Can we get going already? It’s taken me years to come here and I would rather not dawdle any longer, I’ve kept his parents waiting for more than long enough”

The jovial expression on Martyn’s face dropped immediately and he nodded, realising just how much this meant to me. This was no time to for smiling and definitely no time for jokes, this was time to set things right.

“Right this way Danny”

 

 

The path that we were following was narrow and gloomy. Sharp tree branches would constantly reach out and snag pieces of your clothing or skin and tear them away. In combination with this were bundles upon bundles of tree roots, that would trip you up like the hands of hungry beggars trying to grasp at your boots. And it was all starting to get to me very quickly.

I wasn’t sure Martyn even knew where we were going, he always seemed unsure which way to turn and if the road started to disappear his face would take on a very worried look. Time and time again he would stop and look at me, as if asking which way to go. Honestly I would have been better off coming by myself, I would have been just as lost yes, but at least I would have been alone.

“Do you have any idea where you’re going?” I asked Martyn angrily after he stopped moving yet again.

“I swear it’s in this direction” he grumbled. “Or something like that, we’ll find it eventually in any case”

I glared at the man, hoping he could see how angry I was but he seemed oblivious.

“I don’t want to get there eventually Manhunter” I said reproachfully. There were a lot of other things I wanted to say to him, but refrained myself from doing so, there was still a slight chance he would get there.

 “I think I know where to go from here” he said, either ignoring my comment or out of stupidity not realising how angry I was. “It’s only a little further” he added pointing down the path on our left.

Chances were though, that we would arrive at some kind of impasse, or at another set of crossroads. That meant that once again we would come to a halt, then while Martyn would attempt to remember the way I would continue to debate the man’s stupidity. I was going to be very glad indeed to be rid of him once I was done here.

“If it’s anything but a little further there’s going to be hell to pay Manhunter”

We continued on our way down the path after that with the trees continuing to bite at our arms and the roots continuing to snatch up our feet.

By this point though I had become completely fed up with Martyn and started to walk ahead of him. If anything the woodland seemed to be becoming thicker and I was starting to stumble over each and every obstacle in my way, already physically exhausted from the trek.

It was only a matter of time before one of the roots got the better of me and I lost balance completely, and twisted my ankle painfully before tumbling to the ground. I didn’t feel like getting up anymore, I was too tired and too sore to care anymore. And on top of that, since Martyn had no idea how to get there, the chances of me getting to Piers’ home were slim. So instead, I stayed there, with my head bowed onto the ground and my hands buried in the black black dirt.

It was then though, that out of the corner of my eye I saw something that I would never forget. There, just a little way in front of me, sitting on top of the all the dirt and filth of the forest, was a lone flower. It was white, with a pink core that sent waves of colour racing down and along each and every petal to the very tip. It was so pure, so delicate, and so beautiful.

I reached out and slid my hand into the dark earth underneath it, afraid to touch the flower itself lest my touch spoil its beauty. I examined it even more carefully now that it was in my hands, how a thing of  such beauty could exist in a world with so much rain puzzled me. Surely it should have drowned, and yet here it sat in the palm of my hand, so much beauty in one small flower.

I clambered to my feet, making sure not to drop or squash the beautiful flower between my clumsy fingers. And then I started to walk, one step at a time, slowly moving forward into in area where the trees were starting to thin out. I made sure not to trip over the last of the roots as I exited out of the woodland and into a large open meadow. A meadow, that was filled with cherry trees.

 Everything was a light pink colour, with splashes of brown bark here and there, even the green grass was covered in cherry blossoms. As I made my way towards the boundless amounts of trees I made sure not to step on any of the flowers layered across the ground. It was all just as perfect as Piers had described to me all those years a go, if not even more beautiful than he had said. Even the rain couldn’t befoul Piers’ cherry blossoms.

Whether planted by human effort or by nature’s design, the amount of trees that filled the meadow left me in awe. I could see no end to the cherry blossoms, and wherever they were, the sun would shine through as beads of pink and gold.

A slight breeze kicked up, shaking the eaves of the trees as I crossed underneath them and my face was brushed by a cascade of falling flowers. Their petals were impossibly soft and eased the itching of the cuts on my cheeks that had come from the forest. It was as if the very meadow itself was opening its arms to welcome me in, like a mother welcoming her son who has just returned home.

Cradling the flower in my hands to my breast I kneeled at the foot of the first of the cherry trees and closed my eyes. This was it, I had finally made it here and today I would fulfil two promises. The first promise, to a young boy, to travel to his home in the spring and see the cherry blossoms with him. The second promise, to a dying knight, to return the sword of his family to his father. And both promises, were to a friend.

Opening my eyes I steadily lowered the cherry blossom to the base of the tree and carefully placed it on the top of a small root that protruded from the tree. Above the other flowers that lay on the floor below, because that was where this one belonged. Because this wasn’t just another cherry blossom, this one was special, this one was better. Because this one was the best of us all.

I felt a single tear slide down my cheek and watched as it fell onto the petals of the pink flower. I smiled and saluted the flower.

“Welcome home Sir Piers.”

 

 

I could see the house a short distance away from me in between the cherry trees. It was only a small simple cottage, but the cherry blossoms that covered the roof made it just as beautiful as the trees surrounding it. I marched towards the wooden door, steeling myself for what was about to come, for the thing I had been dreading all these years. It was now time to fulfil my second promise to Piers.

I stopped before the door and untied the scabbard of Piers’ family blade from my belt. My hands continued to fumble and it was only with great difficulty that I managed to undo the strap that held it in place. Then I stood completely motionless and stared at the door, unable to move, to completely terrified of what was to come. My legs were starting to shake, and whether it was sweat or tears that were dripping from my face, I had no idea.

At some point I must have pulled myself together and mustered up my courage, because I knocked on the door. Three times. Three loud raps against the wooden door that each made me weak at the knees and shook the door as well as my entire body. Then all I could do was wait for someone to answer my knock. It reality I would not have even waited a whole minute, but to me it felt like a lifetime, a lifetime with Piers.

All the things he could have done, and all the things I could have done with him, everything hit me in those few moments while I waited at that door. He could have really been the greatest knight to ever walk these lands, but he had never gotten the chance to even try. I had taken that chance away from him as soon as I had walked into his life, I had caused his death. Now all that was left was his sword, it stood as a symbol of the dead man and his broken dream.

The creak of the door opening snapped my mind back to reality and my door fixed upon the figure who appeared from behind the door. A man older, lost somewhere between his forties and fifties, still muscular though, and with curly brown hair. I couldn’t handle the sight of him and fell to a heap in the ground, I knew I had to get up though, I had to fulfil my promise and I had to do it properly.

I managed to lift one leg up and stayed on one knee, with my head bowed in both a sign of respect and out of shame. I offered the sword to Piers father, one hand supporting the pommel and the other hand the blade. Once more mustering my courage I looked up at the father of the man whose death was my fault.

Tears streamed down his face, and yet at the same time the man bore the most genuine smile you can possibly imagine. I suppose after that amount of time the man would have know his son was dead, and although I was opening up old wounds I was also providing him with the closure he needed.

“Lord Danariel le Pelletier?” the man asked in a tentative but respectful tone.

I couldn’t manage words, it was just too hard to speak at times like this, and I knew if I tried then I would just end up losing control. Instead I nodded as solemnly as I could.

Taking the sword from my hands he motioned for me to stand, I obeyed. Then I waited, waited for the angry words of a father who has lost his son, or for the emotionally lethal fist of one who you cannot ever truly make things up to. Instead though, the man spread his arms wide and embraced me tightly. I let out a small surprised sob on the man’s shoulder and wrapped my arms around him.

At that moment all my sorrow and regret seemed to fade away a little, with one hug from the man, I already felt better. Piers’ death, his broken dream, and his beautiful cherry blossoms, they were all here now, all together as one.

“Come inside Danny, and Martyn you too” Piers’ father said, clearing up the last few stray tears. I hadn’t noticed Martyn was behind me. “I have a few questions if you wouldn’t mind answering them?”

I sighed. “Nothing in the world would make me happier”

Author's Note

I really really want feedback and advice on how to better this chapter as it is important to my book I want it to be nothing less than perfect. Cheers :)

Reviews

[Alleyway Rover]

Overall: The imagery was vivid and fantastic in this chapter. You clearly had a picture in your head of him finding this house and it’s cherry orchard and made it come to life for the reader.

The emotion was well written but I think I would like to feel the conflict inside Danny more.

Take this passage:

“I murdered that man yesterday without even flinching, and it made me feel better than I have in a long time…” I paused and looked away from Piers, too ashamed to look someone who was as good as him in the eye.”

I like this sentiment a lot. I feel like a lot of your story is this internal struggle. I think it gets buried inside a lot of other thoughts throughout your book, though. I’d like to see him wrestle with this feeling more. Maybe be inside his head when he kills someone and feels that rush and later, when that rush has faded, watch him deal with the guilt and regret that follows. This is a powerful conflict and I think it has the potential to create a really interesting dynamic character that will bring people in. I think you just need to play it up more.

In the cherry orchard obviously he is sad. Obviously he is filled with guilt. Danny is more complex then that though. He’s a man of honor that’s slowly changing into a vicious sadistic killer. (at least I think, I might be wrong but that’s what I’ve been picking up here and there) So how does he feel about that? How does he feel about the fact he’s slowly slipping into a kind of darkness, but he gets to be the one to return the sword home?

Like I said. He's sad. He's feels guilty. Does some part, maybe the same part that gets a rush seeing someone fall in front of him feel happy? Vindicated? Joyful even? If so, how does he cope with those feelings?

This chapter is already very powerful but there is something more complex going on. If you can tap into that somehow, I think you have a remarkably powerful moment.

Additional Notes:

“After that I wouldn’t have been able to stop the tears even if I had wanted to, they scorched down my face in rivulets of fire, igniting the skin wherever they went.”

Your descriptions are really good for the most part. I think this sentence waxes a little purple though. Consider reigning in the melodrama just a touch.

‘“And I get the feeling that talking to a sword isn’t going to be constructive either” I almost smiled at that comment but stopped myself, I didn’t deserve to smile.”

I’m a little confused here. What he actually talking to an apparition or was he having some kind of weird hallucination or dream earlier? More importantly, what does Danny believe he saw? That’s the important thing, I think. If he believes he was talking to a sword, does any of the previous exchange matter, or will he chalk it up to sleep depravation and maybe late onset delerium tremens?

‘“Come inside Danny, and Martyn you too” Piers’ father said, clearing up the last few stray tears. I hadn’t noticed Martyn was behind me. “I have a few questions if you wouldn’t mind answering them?”’

How did he know Danny’s full name? Furthermore how does he know Martyn’s name? This might be explained later but it seems wildly improbable at this moment and both Danny and Martyn seem to take it in stride.