Lottery

Artemis stood upon a barren hilltop overlooking a wasteland. It was a much larger landmass than could often be found around Solaria, perhaps held together by the ancient, wide-spreading roots of the original Pear Tree, but that was all it had going for it. Unlike much of the rest of Solaria, where plants still managed to grow and fauna managed to get by, everything here was dead. Fallen trees lay dry and broken, their stumps jutting jaggedly from the ground; long dead brush and grasses stood brittle, ready to crumble at the slightest touch. It was the heart of what had been the Isopteron plague, and Artemis didn’t know if it would ever fully recover. An everlasting reminder of her foolishness. 

“Your Corps have finished discussing the potential spots with the Solarian Wajas. They’re looking for you.”

Artemis turned with a start. With her focus on the landscape before her, she hadn’t heard Apollo alighting on the hilltop right beside her.

He folded his wings and looked at her gently. “But I suppose you’ve heard the news.”

Artemis let her gaze drop. “Yes.”

“I know it’s not your top choice.”

“Not my second either,” she said wryly.

“Nor your third, nor fourth, nor fifth.” Apollo chuckled. He gazed out over the land spread before them. “But it is a good choice.”

Artemis tossed her head, ears lacing back. “It’s exactly the opposite of what I asked for! We should be planting the tree far from here! Not in the heart of Solaria’s most barren wasteland! Not right where the plague began! What if it… what if the tree…” She couldn’t get herself to say it. The sapling had to thrive. There was no other option.

Apollo gazed steadily out over the dead and fallen forest. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “They don’t want what happened to be forgotten.”

A low growl grumbled deep in her throat, but by sheer force of will she kept it from escaping fully.

“I want to forget it.” She choked the words out. She wanted nothing to do with what had happened here. She had done so much to work past it, to right the wrongs of her mistakes, to see the world recovered from the harm her childish greed had wrought. But planting the tree here would put her right back at the heart of it forever. Every day she would have to tend the tree, and every day she would have to do it overlooking precisely the scene of where she had nearly destroyed everything.

“Remembering what happened will help keep it from happening again.” Apollo stepped closer to her, and dropped his head so that even with her downcast gaze, she would see his face. “But this isn’t all about remembering the past. The tree on this hilltop will be a beacon to all of Solaria. A beacon of hope, and of healing. As it grows, it will bring the world together again. And perhaps one day,” he smiled just a bit, “The new pear tree will stretch its roots down into that valley, and bring life back to that forest. And every day you’ll come here to tend to it, and you’ll look out on the happiest, most beautiful scene you could imagine, because you’ll know what this was, and you’ll know what your hard work did to bring it back to life.” He raised his head, and she did too. “It will take time, but I think the tree will thrive here.”

Artemis tried to imagine the dead stumps sending up new shoots, green grass growing up between them, wildflowers blooming, Wajas frolicking in the reborn forest. It had once been a blooming glade here, full of life, but now she could hardly remember how that had looked. And it would be different than before anyway. The stump of the old pear tree would be there in the midst of it; she didn’t think there was any chance that it would spring back to life. It would be there forever, a monument to what had been. But the new life around it- if things truly did turn out how Apollo described: a monument to what could be, a message that any mistake, no matter how large, could be rectified.

Artemis sighed. He had made a good point, although she didn’t really want to admit it. “I really did like that big old cave with the waterfall though.”

Apollo laughed. “It was pretty cool.”

“But I think someone made the point the tree might run out of space in there.”

“Yes, they did. And I’m inclined to agree.”

Artemis gave herself a little shake. “Alright. I’m ready to plant the tree.”

******

For all the years of waiting, the pain, the toil…the actual moment was almost anticlimactic.  Artemis had not been there to watch the sapling be carefully removed from its mother soil and carried in a specially designed litter harnessed to the shoulders and backs of no less than a dozen strong volunteers.  Every single waja that could make it had lined the road to watch it pass, to guard it from any slight potential of harm or accident and bid it farewell.  Hundreds…thousands.  From what Artemis had been told later, it had been an unbroken line on either side, wajas standing shoulder-to-shoulder, from the entrance to the glade all the way up to the clearing where the portal glowed. 

But she had labored, all the same.  A task she had vehemently insisted she do alone.  Her paws, her claws, her strength, her sweat and tears.  She alone dug the hole at the crest of that accursed hill.  Her nose had filled with the stale cold smell of the dirt, interspersed with the remnants of…them.  Thankfully, she had not come across any desiccated bugs.  No carapaces or cocoon shards.  Only the barest hints of smell remained, and perhaps would always remain.  Until the earth came to life again.  And then maybe, finally, the last of the physical remnants of the plague would be gone. 

Leaving only its memory.

Her Corps had met the bearers of the precious sapling at the portal, and taken upon the burden.  Apollo’s Chosen had followed as an honor guard.  This she had watched, almost unblinkingly.  The sapling had been carried to where she and Apollo stood, to the hole waiting for it.  And she had used her power, with Apollo only helping to guide, to settle it into its new home.  And the moment those precious delicate roots touched the cold dead soil…

…a sigh.  That was all.  A soft sigh that seemed to echo through the earth itself.  A sigh she had heard not in her ears, but in her heart.  And it had been full of welcome relief.

Each Corps and Chosen had stepped forward, one by one, to push a pawful of soil into place.  Nobody had spoken, or even planned this.  They had just started moving, seemingly without a second thought.  And when the last two, Jill and Bill, had pushed on their pawfuls, it had left only two small mounds of soil left.  One for Apollo…and one for her. 

What was spoken by Apollo and Artemis to their most loyal and trusted can only be guessed.  Although many in Solaria desired to see their new Pear Tree for themselves, their curiosity was held at bay by the sight of the council that occurred in the last hours of that day.  In the end, as the sun set below the distant horizon and the heavens came alive with a display of stars that left the brave Lunarian explorers in awe, the eager slowly turned away, accepting that their turn would come, perhaps on the morrow.  Not long after, the Corps and Chosen took their leave as well, and as the very last of the sun’s glow vanished, leaving only velvet black in the sky, Apollo also departed.  And Artemis was left alone, for she intended not to leave this precious treasure on its first cold and silent night.  She settled down, resting her weary head upon the freshly turned ground, and let a single tear fall.  The Tree’s very first taste of water in Solaria, and it would come from the salty tear of the one who caused the land to be torn apart.  It was a bittersweet thought.  But not an unpleasant one. 

“…Seriously?  Is this really how this epic drama is going to end?  There has to be time for at least one more spot of fun.”

Artemis’ eyes snapped open, growling darkly as she jerked her head up and turned towards the source of the intrusive voice.  

“Vyra.  For once, can’t you walk away and just let it be quiet?”

The former glitch Queen grinned lazily.  She had watched the spectacle from afar these days, for wise was the former Queen and she knew that her part to play was complete.  Watching for her own personal amusement had been satisfactory.  After all, she had done a lot for this little victory, had she not?  She deserved to enjoy the fruits of her great labors, which was why she had invited herself to this…delightful…little land to look around.  Still, to let it come to an end with quiet, and peace?  No fun to be had at all?

“Now, would that not be a bore?” she asked, still grinning.  “Do you truly want a happy ending, hip hip hooray?”  She glanced behind her, towards the distant darkness.  “Those strange little antlered rabbits have potential.  Territorial little things.  Maybe I can gather some together and have them…”

“Vyra.”  Artemis rose to her feet, her hackles standing on end as her voice became as flat and cold as stone.  She pushed her snout into Vyra’s face, baring her teeth.  “It is over now.  No more fun.  No more drama.  Let it rest.  The only thing left now is time.” 

Vyra hmphed.  A royal…formerly royal…paw rose to scratch behind a formerly royal ear. 

“Time,” she said.  “How…dreadful boring.”  She sighed.  “But if you insist, my dear Artemis…”  She paused, her bright eyes looking up into the young moonlit canopy of the tree.  With Artemis’ back turned, she did not see what Vyra saw.  She did not see how the light, for the briefest second, seemed to flicker across the leaves.  Almost…glitch…across them.

“Isn’t there something else you can be doing with your time?” Artemis added flatly.

“Something else?”  Vyra admired the claws on her forepaw.  Perfect, as always.  She feigned a pondering expression, and then smiled.  “Well…I suppooooose.”  She let the last word out in a drawl.  “Fine, have your peaceful, quiet, boring ending.  There will be fun to have in the future.”

She turned away from the young tree, her tail swishing jauntily, but she did restrain the urge to let the tip whap the side of Artemis’ muzzle. 

“Don’t be a stranger now, dear Artemis,” she said as she started to walk away. 

Artemis grunted.  Vyra continued to walk away, but at the last moment, the voice echoed softly through the darkness.

“Glitch…thanks.  For…everything.”

Vyra offered a little wave over her shoulder, but that was all.  Tail still swinging, she strode away, leaving a peaceful, quiet end in her wake as promised.

This story may be over, but there were always other things to do.  Other sources of fun to be found. 

And Vyra couldn’t wait for the next one to begin.

The End

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Story by The Grand Admiral and Sparra

The Solarian Pear Tree Wallpaper can now be found in the Solarian Cave! 
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Thank you all for your participation in this storyline!