------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------A garden sits in the middle of a beautiful forest. A gentle waterfall pours into a small river that circled it before flowing away into the rest of the woods. A man, cloaked in blue, tending to the flowers. Each one a different color, and each one taken care of equally and for just as long. A Lily of the Valley. A blue Orchid. A Lady’s Shine blossom. A fiery red rose. A violet cleome. A spring snowflake. Each one beautiful in their own way and cared for lovingly with the man’s gentle hands. His steps were light as he moved across the grass of the garden. Quiet, and gentle as a morning breeze. Soon, the steps of another approached the garden. A warrior, also cloaked in blue and adorned in bronze armor. A rapier attached at his hip, leather belt filled to the brim with tools and weapons of war and survival. The man glanced up from his flower tending and took up his cane, moving over to greet the warrior. For he knew him very well, but the warrior did not in return. “Hello there, warrior. I didn’t expect you to come back here.” The man said. “Who are you?” The warrior asked, clearly confused. “How is this here?” He motioned to the garden. “This area was desecrated and torn apart before. Nothing should have been able to grow. It saw nothing but bloodshed and violence.” The warrior stated, his armor showing signs of wear. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” The man said, motioning over to the blue Orchid sitting near the center of the garden. “It all started with that flower; you see. … The longer I took care of it, the more the grass began to grow. And I found more flowers outside the garden to be its friend. My friends.” “Surely you had to protect it, then. Protect them. … But I see no weapon on you.” The warrior asserted, readjusting the rapier on his belt. Almost itching to use it again. “I had no need for such. Any threats that came by, I simply allowed it to pass through. I can still avoid the flowers being hurt without hurting another. And if they wished to stay, well. I have made another friend.” The man said gently. “Then you are a coward.” The warrior said, annoyed. “Surely that hasn’t worked all the time. Surely your flowers and garden /have/ been harmed, because you did /nothing/.” The man tilts his head down, nodding solemnly. “I will admit. It is not foolproof. … Some of my flowers have died or been trampled on. And I still feel terrible for not being able to save them.” “So why don’t you fight? Why not stop them? Take revenge on them. Bring them to justice.” The warrior asked, eyes glowing with yellow light and sparks manifesting at his feet. “Because then, I would be the one trampling on another flowers.” The man responded, simply. “... what?” “I would be inflicting the same pain I felt onto someone else. I would become the person or thing who wronged me. And if I were to be that. I would end up hurting my own flowers as well.” The man stated, simply once again. The warrior gave a small huff of frustration, glancing off to the side. “You confuse me.” “That’s alright... You don’t need to understand right away.” “...” “But I can help you understand. Teach you how to. If you’ll let me.” The man suggested, with a gentle smile. The warrior glanced back at the man. The man looked back. One in the same, both cloaked in blue. Sitting together in the garden now, the warrior’s blade and armor laid to rest at the center of the garden. Tending to the flowers, together. -----------------------------------------------------
