The mother looked upon her four children and hugged them close. "Some say that the world was started in six days, with a rest on the seventh," she whispered in their ears. "Others theorize that it was created over the span of millions upon millions of years, along with the rest of the universe."

She releases them from her embrace and gave them a wary look. Each of their warm, cherubic faces turned serious as stone.

"The warrior and the scholar can tell you differently," she continued. "A world can be destroyed and rebuilt in a matter of days, hours… Moments upon moments, the world is being destroyed and rebuilt in a continuous cycle.

"Thus one must be both warrior and scholar. The warrior brings forth the end of the world, but the scholar shall come soon after the fire and blood to build the world anew."

She leads her children towards the Eastern Gate, its metal hinges new and oiled as vines tickled their way up its sides.

"Enter the orchard and see for yourself who and what you will become." She gave each of her children a kiss on their forehead. "I will meet you at this gate once you are finished."

Her four children bade their farewells and entered the orchard in unison. The Eastern Gate closed silently behind them, sealing them from their mother and the outside world.

A sad smile seeped onto her face for in her heart she knew they might never return.

-Fr. Matthew M. Masso
Excerpt from "Test of the Orchard"
Tales of God and Self
New Edwards: Crocus Press, AC 192

There seemed to be a shimmer in the air as the four boys made their way deeper into the Orchard. Above them, the sun was warm, paternal as it filtered through the peach trees. The scent of ripening fruit was heavy in the air, sticky and sweet.

They had all been told of a 'certain something' that made the center of the orchard its home. Most accounts, if not all, say that within the sweet-flavored orchard was Knowledge, the sweet, tempting wisdom. As to what form it existed…

The four boys stood barely a hundred feet away from the Eastern Gate when the path they had begun to walk down split itself into four separate paths. The four boys looked at each other warily, uncertain in the mid-afternoon haze what to make of this change, before they began to move once more.

The young warriors, separated by the turns and the warm air of the orchard, made their way down their own particular paths, uncertain as to what they would encounter. Quickly enough, they each fell into a sort of absentminded daze among the peaches…

When he stumbled into a circular area, flat and furnished with a stream, the blond-haired warrior awoke from the blankness of mind he was in since the moment he entered through the Eastern Gate. It was green, sultry as the height of summer. The grass grew in lively green clumps among the wildflowers. The trees swayed, its branches heavy with fruit.

A nymph was reclined on his stomach beside the blue-white stream, its hand leisurely drifting in the cold running water. Its body was golden, covered only with a thin pale cloth across its backside.

Its large, violet eyes looked at him, pinning him on the green ground he stood on. It stood, drawing its body up to its full height. It exposed its hairless chest… a bit of hair peeked out of the cloth around it loins…

It was sleek, too beautiful to be human. His mouth grew dry and his blood hot as his eyes wandered up and down.

The nymph smiled in greeting at the young warrior as it ran a hand through its hair. The boy's blood became hotter, the heat gathering quickly just below his abdomen.

"You must be hungry," the nymph said lightly as it turned around and plucked two peaches from the branches, offering a view of soft flesh underneath the cloth.

"Yes, very," the boy whispered under his breath as the nymph turned around once more, a round fuzzy peach in each hand. It extended one of its arms, offering one of the peaches in a friendly manner.

"Eat it." It tilted its head as the wind moved the branches above them. "It's really good."

Forgetting the heat within him as rapidly as it first appeared, the boy flicked his eyes between the nymph's strange eyes and the soft fruit being offered to him.

"Is that Knowledge?" The boy's voice was small as he spied the seemingly harmless food with some hesitation.

The nymph winked at him mischievously. "You'll just have to find out for yourself."

The boy was afraid. He was told of the Knowledge that dwelled inside the Orchard, how it could destroy the person seeking for it. That it was very possible for him to die as he searched for it. That he may not succeed at all. In that brief instance, he realized that he was not ready to die for something so awesome as Knowledge, even if it looked like a nymph holding forth a ripe peach for him to taste.

The nymph frowned, as if it knew what the young warrior was thinking. Its arms fell to its sides. "I'm sorry you feel this way," it said in sad voice. Something in the west moved, catching his attention.

"Here comes the second one…" Its voice still held that soft, sad quality as the branches moved aside for another warrior.

"Trowa!" the blond-haired warrior called out just as the newcomer raised his eyes and surveyed the clearing.

The warrior with the green eyes, otherwise known as Trowa, found himself in a clearing in the midst of autumn. The ground was covered with dry, red-brown leaves, decorated here and there with perfect, round pumpkins and bushels of harvested peaches. Standing by a swiftly moving stream stood what had to be a longhaired nymph, dressed in a warm-looking top that reached his knees. In each hand was a ripe, perfect peach.

The blond-haired warrior gasped in fright as he realized Trowa did not hear him. In fact, there was no reaction from the green-eyed boy indicating that there was more than one person in the clearing.

The nymph gave the newcomer the same smile that he gave the blond-haired warrior as it offered one of the peaches to Trowa. "Here. You must be hungry." Trowa reached out for the peach, not wanting to offend the beautiful creature in front of him by declining the treat. It was so beautiful that he couldn't help but blush at the thoughts that began to race in his mind…

"Trowa, be careful," the blond-haired boy cried out as he rushed to come between his friend and the nymph. He did not want his companion to fall into some terrible fate for accepting the peach, but he was uncertain as to what he would be able to do. Trowa could not see him, but he could knock the peach out of the nymph's hand, allowing Trowa time to think about what he was about to do.

Trowa blinked as he watched the peach leap out of the nymph's hand and bounce once on the leaf-covered floor. Immediately, he reached out for the slightly damaged fruit, still intent on taking even a small bite.

The nymph reached out desperately to stop Trowa from taking the peach from the ground. As he brushed off the bit of dirt that got on it and immediately took a bite, it cried out in warning, but it was too late. It watched in ill-hidden horror as a bit of juice dribbled from Trowa's lips to the tip of his chin. The peach fell from the warrior's hand and rolled out of sight, forgotten.

The nymph turned narrowed eyes towards the blond-haired warrior. "Why did you do that?" The boy could only sputter unintelligent syllables from where he stood.

"Quatre?" asked Trowa with some hesitation as he wiped the juice from his lips. He had not seen the other boy enter the clearing. As he idly wondered when exactly did the other boy enter the small clearing, his knees quickly turned themselves into jelly and his legs gave way. Quatre immediately flew to Trowa's side and caught him before he fell hard. He gently helped his green-eyed friend lay down.

The nymph ignored the both of them as it sank to its haunches and bowed its head. "You shouldn't have done that… Quatre."

Quatre looked at the nymph with anger clear in his eyes. In his arms, Trowa began to cough violently. A long, thin line of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's dying." The nymph traced random designs on the ground with its fingers. "He shouldn't have taken the peach from the ground."

"It's all my fault, isn't it…" Quatre's voice was so soft; it was difficult to hear him above Trowa's coughing. If he had taken the peach first… If he had not knocked the peach down… If he had not been such a coward, Trowa would not… be like this.

Quatre bit his lip as a plan began to form in his mind. It solidified as Trowa drew in his final gasp.

The Western Gate opened wide. From the garden came a dark procession of men. On their shoulders was a casket, for one of the boys had died in his search.

-Masso
"Test of the Orchard"

"If I had the Knowledge," he whispered to himself, drawing Trowa's still-warm body against his chest, "I could bring him back, couldn't I?"

The nymph looked up from the ground, ready to call out a warning, but he said nothing. What was going to occur, will. Quatre's half-crazed eyes already declared what was going to happen, with or without his intervention. It lowered its eyes to the ground once more.

Quatre tilted Trowa's head underneath him. He could make out a few bits of the ripe peach still in his companion's mouth. He pressed his mouth against Trowa's, his tongue searching desperately for more than a taste of the peach Trowa took a bite from. He hoped the small bits he found were enough.

He broke off the searching kiss and glared at the nymph. It had not moved since Trowa started coughing. "What do I have to do now?" he cried out impatiently as he licked the taste of peaches from his lips. "I had some of the damn peach. What else do I have to do!"

The nymph's voice was hollow. "You shouldn't have done that either… but it's too late now."

"What are you talking about?" Quatre's voice was hot, angry.

"You ate from a dead man." He lifted himself from his haunches. For the first time, Quatre realized that the nymph wasn't wearing a loincloth anymore… that they were no longer in the fragrant clearing. They were in a place devoid of color, of any sound other than Quatre's own rapid heartbeat and the sad tone in the nymph's voice.

The nymph looked almost male with its hair braided back, its clothes conjuring up images of Catholic priests. It refused to look at Quatre, preferring to direct its sad gaze on the ground.

"Now, instead of life, you will see death." Its voice was definite, sincere in its honesty. Its hands went straight into its pants' pockets. "You will know death."

"What? I don't believe you!" Quatre's body began to shake uncontrollably. He looked at the nymph, trying to glare the creature into looking at him.

"Look at you hands, Quatre." The nymph offered, not bothering to look up, his face obscured by his thick bangs. "That will be proof enough."

Quatre raised one of his hands and screamed in terror as he watched the skin melt away from his bones and the single appendage rapidly decompose in front of his very eyes.

The Southern Gate swung open and allowed another of the boys to leave the lush Orchard, yet his eyes weren't right. He had gone mad in his search of the Knowledge within.

-Masso
"Test of the Orchard"

The young warrior's feet began to hurt significantly when he heard a scream to the south of him. He was uncertain as to whom it was that screamed, but he knew he needed to see what had happened. He raced to the south, but, no matter how many turns he took and steps he retraced, he found himself going more and more to the north.

He soon found himself in a small clearing, covered with the thick whiteness of winter snow. Surprised at the unusual change in weather, he walked into the clearing. His feet crunched the snow underneath him. Beyond the snow and below the heavy, black, bare branches, was a stream, fast and still in motion.

Beside the stream, sitting on a large rock, as a figure, its hair being whipped around him by the cold wind. It was covered with thick fur from the top of its head down. Its hands were held close to its body as if they held the most precious thing imaginable…

"Knowledge," the black-haired warrior said to himself as he drew himself nearer to the fully covered nymph, still resting calmly on the rock by the stream.

The nymph lifted its head and gave the warrior a warm, gently greeting of a smile. "Would you like something to eat?" it asked softly. It extended one of its hands. In its palm rested a ripe, freshly plucked peach.

The warrior looked at the fruit dubiously. "First, tell me where the book is."

The nymph's large eyes grew wider, causing the black-haired warrior's skin to grow hot, in spite of the frozen land around him. "What book?"

"Why, the book of Knowledge, of course!" The warrior glared at the nymph, but the nymph did not move from its rock, did not lower its offering. He only grew more upset when the nymph looked as if it did not know what in the world the boy was referring to.

The warrior crossed his arms, suddenly finding himself colder than before. "There is no book, is there."

The nymph gave no reply as it slowly returned its arm and its offering to its original position against the warmth of its furs. It lowered its head as the warrior turned and began to walk out of the clearing in search of that damned Knowledge.

The Northern Gate swung open, and another boy left the mysteries of the Orchard to return to the real world. Sadly, this boy had failed as well. Heresy became his native tongue.

-Masso
"Test of the Orchard"

The fourth warrior also heard the screams that came from the south, but, the more he tried to find the place where it came from, the more he got lost, the more tired and hungry he became. He fell to his feet, uncertain that he could go on, when he heard it.

As if from a dream, he heard the sound of a brook, or a stream, somewhere in the distance, past a few peach trees. He did not know where it was coming from, but he suddenly found a reason to get up and walk some more. He would continue, he thought, until he at least found the source of that sound.

He was so weary that he moved with a sway in his step. He wandered through the trees, from one grove or another, following the sound of the stream towards the east.

He nearly collapsed once more when he finally found it, coursing happily through a small clearing. The air felt like spring time. The grass was green and the wind was pure.

He dived his face into the cool water, drinking greedily from the stream. There was nothing but the water and his thirst. He did not hear the birds flying above him. He did not hear the wind rustling the branches around him.

For that brief instant, only he existed. He and he alone…

His thirst satisfied, he lifted his head from the waters and looked up, finding a new need awake within him with a flash of violet.

A nymph looked down at him, his eyes warm with bemusement, as the young warrior lifted himself back up. It was dressed in a long pair of loose pants, leaving its chest bare in the warm air. He began to wipe away the water on his face in an attempt to hide that fact he was rather surprised… among other things… by the creature's presence.

The nymph smiled at him, causing his blood to run as hot as that of the others that had come before. In between them appeared a round, perfectly ripe peach. "Are you as hungry as you are thirsty?"

The warrior took the fruit offered to him with some hesitation and pressed the fuzzy flesh gently against his lips. As he opened his mouth slowly, he watched as the nymph took a bite out of another peach with great relish. Juices began to spill from its mouth, rushing towards its neck.

The nymph laughed in embarrassment as it used two of its free fingers to wipe the juices away. "I'm so messy sometimes," it half-apologized as it wiped it all away.

The warrior's hand reached out, spanning the distance between them with his arm, and grasped the nymph's wrist. He pulled the juice-covered body part and licked the fluids off the fingers greedily.

The nymph stared at the warrior as he did this, too shocked over what happened to its fingers to stop him when he went for the peach glazed lips.

His head still spinning from the taste of peaches on the nymph's fingers, he dove straight for the creature's mouth, fully intending to take as much of the flavor from its lips as possible.

The nymph moaned as the warrior drank more and more from the peach-flavored lips, allowing the warrior to delve deeper into the peach-sweetness of the nymph. Even as breath became more and more needed, he couldn't stop himself. He wanted more of that flavor.

They broke contact, both the warrior and the nymph breathing in shallow breaths.

The warrior licked his lips slowly, trying to savor what was left of the peach on them as his blue eyes watched the nymph with thirst. His eyes felt heavy. "That was delicious," he was able to breathe out. "I want more,"

"But, what about your peach?" the nymph said quietly. "You didn't taste it yet. They're the same…"

"They're not," he said definitively. "Yours is better. I know so…" With that said, he placed the nymph's partly eaten peach against its lips and pleaded softly. "Please…"

The nymph took a larger bite out of the peach, allowing the juices to flow down his throat and towards his chest. The warrior watched with awe as the fluids flowed down the contours of the nymph's body before diving his face in to lap the juices up.

Finally, the Eastern Gate opened once more, and out of the Orchard came out the man that had succeeded, for with him was Knowledge, the wisdom to know what life was.

-Masso
"Test of the Orchard"

~~~~end

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