Reaching the tree itself had been a chore, his body already weary from the short walk he'd taken. Thankfully, a few sips of the mysterious, yet clear, water was enough to restore his strength. The mound surrounding the tree was barely a meter tall, covered by moss and discarded leaves. It was also slippery as hell. It took him several tries to reach the top, and he had to use the tree's low-hanging branches to help him climb up. Sadly those weren't laden with the yellow fruits.
He sat, his back against the slender trunk, tired but happy. Repetition is the mother of learning, isn't it? he thought, smiling. He couldn't help thinking back at the accident that robbed him of his parents and his legs. It had been a pretty common accident. Some plumber had smashed a car that had swerved into his lane without performing any checks. Their car had been right behind the van. A bundle of badly fastened copper pipes had been thrown from the truck's top, pierced through the windshield, and hit his father straight through the head, killing him instantly. His mother got speared by five other tubes and died on the way to the hospital. He had been lucky, in a way. He had been sitting in the back seat, his parents had shielded him from the worst of the projectiles. He had been left with a broken spine, messed up intestines, and a few broken ribs. He had been in a coma for a week, and when he woke up to a very different and painful world, he had been told he would never walk again.
Five years of therapy followed, along with some familial, political, and hospital drama he couldn't care about. He sighed and looked at himself yet again.
"Fuck you Docs, I CAN WALK AGAIN!" he shouted releasing some pent-up anger he had forgotten he had, or tried to as his voice wasn't yet fully back. Another thing he was going to have to work on fixing.
His breathing had gone back to being a background task. Walking still requires some conscious effort, but as the saying goes, it's like riding a bike, you can't forget such stuff. He still had a long way to go, but he was in no hurry, patience was something you could learn lying in a hospital bed. He had already spotted a few apples that would be reachable with a bit of effort. Helping himself up, he followed his target's branch to the silvery and slightly shining trunk and gripped it with both his hands. The wood was soft, without the usual roughness one could expect from a tree's bark. Strangely enough, a ripple emerged from where he had put his hands and made the whole tree scintillate in an otherwordly fashion. Fascinating, he observed, his eyes sparkling with wonder.
His stomach quickly reminded him of his current job. Determination overcame his curiosity and followed along the branch, hoping his weight would be enough to bend it a bit. The limb wasn't that high to begin with, but the tree's shape was weird. All its branches went upward very quickly as if gravity was reversed, and the few that went sideways were too thin to support his weight. It looked like some weird candelabra of old.
The branch groaned and bent a bit. The apple wasn't too far away but he still had to pull the branch toward him some more. Shifting his hands ripped some stray leaves which somehow made the tree react, its silvery shine shifted to a pulsating golden hue. But he didn't let that distract him, his eyes were set on the apple. He pulled some more, overworking his already tired muscles in what seemed to him to be a herculean task. He grunted, then growled, then shouted as he pulled with all his might. The branch bent, and even began to crack! He quickly shifted his left hand to a higher position and dragged his right hand up.
This is it! I'm going to get it! he thought, his eyes shining with determination. He threw himself downward the slope, putting all his weight on the branch. A mighty crack resounded in the small room. The two-meter-long branch followed his fall toward the ground and landed alongside him in the water. His head hit the wall, confusing him some. He shook his head. Ugh, I'm going to have a headache after this. he thought, rubbing his head. He looked at the branch and saw the apple was still there, hanging from the branch. He smiled and reached for it through the few stars that were still dancing around.
He could already hear the faint victory music of his favorite games. Ta-da-da-daaaaa! You found an apple! It's obviously very tasty.
He grabbed his prize, and was happy to discover two others were waiting for him higher on the branch he hadn't seen, Free lunch! Still, he put himself out of the water to enjoy his meal. He was already cold, wet, and tired. He didn't want to catch some cold to add to his misfortune. Shifting his position was troublesome, his body screamed at him. He ignored it and began to eat. The apple was delicious, and he quickly devoured it to the stem. It wasn't some of the brick-like apples he'd already gotten at the hospital, nor the month-old one of late winter. It was crispy and juicy and tasted nothing like an apple. It was sweet, but not too much, and had a hint of something he couldn't quite place. I'm going to have to get some more of those. he thought, his mouth already watering at the thought.
Yet he paused. Something was wrong. Warmth was spreading from his stomach, and he felt a bit dizzy. Oh no, I'm going to be sick! he thought, his eyes wide open. Despite his expectations, he wasn't going to throw up. He felt the warmth radiating throughout his body, quite like the water as a matter of fact. But unlike the water, it wasn't quite a pleasant feeling. He felt his already battered muscles spasms and made him convulse. Fear spiked in his mind, and he tried to stand up, but his legs wouldn't obey him. He tried to crawl away, but his arms were too weak to support his weight. He tried to shout, but his voice was gone. Yet as quickly as it had come it was over. He was left panting, his body covered in sweat. He felt his muscles relax, and his mind clear. He was still tired, but he felt better than he had in a long time.
"What the hell was that?" he muttered. Thankfully he wasn't hungry anymore, but parched and that was something he could easily solve. He bent down to gather some water in his hands and drank. That's when it hit him. While not gracious, his move had been effortless. He stood up and didn't tumble back down. He didn't need to reach for support. He made a few steps and didn't fall. "That's some pretty useful apple," he concluded. Having regained the use of his body, he inspected himself some more. He removed his robe, and and observed his naked body. He was still thin as a stick, but some muscles had appeared. His skin tone wasn't easy to determine with the blue magical candles.
Stolen story; please report.
"What in the world?" he asked, his hand running along his arms and then his face and head. He was devoid of any hair. Bald as a bowling ball. Yet this didn't disturb him as much as there weren't any scars anywhere on his body that he could see. It was like his body was brand new out of the factory of his mother's womb.
Sudden weariness got him good this time, and he sat down in the moss. He needed some time out, to process everything that had happened to him. His most immediate need seen to, the shock of his current reality settled in. What will I become? How will I survive on a dozen steroid apples? Where in the hell am I?... What's my name?
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He woke up, his body refreshed and ready for action again. He didn't know how much time had passed, as the setting wasn't one to change that often. He was still in the same room, the same tree, the same water. He was still naked, but he didn't care. He was alone, and he didn't feel the cold. His mind was still rumbling on his interrogation, but the foremost was that he couldn't remember his name. And every time he pondered the question too much, some headache came out of hell to wreck him.
"I can remember my childhood, my parents' faces are fuzzy, but some snapshots are clear enough. But I can't remember their names," he observed. "I can remember how my old room looked like, but not the name of the city my home was in. The same with the hospital, doctors, and nurses." That stumped him. All the names have been stripped clean from his memory.
It took him some more time to calm down and let the matter lie. What can I do about it anyway? he mused, defeated. At least for now.
Now he had more pressing matters to see to. What should he do? He had no idea where he was, and while he guessed he could get out by one of the three doors, it didn't feel like his situation was secure at all. "Still, I can't stay here forever," he said. "There are roughly only a dozen apples left, and the especially shiny one. Even the water is limited, and I don't know how to get more." He sighed. "I guess I'll have to go through one of those doors. But which one?" he asked himself. He had no idea what was behind them and that got him wondering. This place was magical in nature, as no tree shone, nor did apples make people stronger. While he was abed in the hospital, he had read a lot of fantasy books and played heaps of RPGs. If these were any indication, what he could find beyond those doors could kill him swiftly or be some kind of paradise with hundreds of the cutest boys and girls ready to answer every one of his needs. He sighed, "I'll know soon enough, I guess." The idea of unending adventures echoed within him. Meeting strangers, discovering long thought-dead civilizations, unearthing forgotten treasures, fighting monsters!
"Maybe..." he wondered and looked back at the apples. "There's still so many of them, and the shiny one must be extra special."
"Maybe I can get strong enough to survive whatever is behind those doors," he said, his eyes shining with determination. "I'll eat them all, and hopefully I'll become strong enough." He nodded and smiled. That's not much of a plan, but it's better than nothing, but he didn't dare voice that opinion. Being alone was already getting to him.
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By the time he had gotten through his tenth apple, they had no longer any effect on him. He still munched it as it was filling his stomach and finally satiated him. He didn't look like a starving kid out of some third-world country anymore, but he was far from being a bodybuilder. Using some rocks from the broken ceiling, he had worked the broken branch into a staff. It was a bit bent and scrapped, but strangely enough, as the time went on it solidified somewhat and lost its softness. The silver hue had left it to be replaced by a silver lacker on the bark that took a purple-ish hue. It was light and sturdy. It bent a bit, if he insisted, but didn't even groan under the stress. He, of course, would have preferred to have some sword, or even make a lance out of it, but he hadn't any appropriate material on hand. The vines on the wall had helped him reach the tallest of the branches, this time without breaking them. It felt disrespectful to wreck that blessed tree any more than he already had.
Using the vines, he made himself a makeshift bag. Weaving vines had been a pain and a half, and he was sure the thing only held thanks to the unevenness of it all. It held his remaining five apples, an almost chiseled rock. It was not sharp, but he felt better having it. He had explored the room some more between two apples. He had dislodged some vines away from the wall. But the stone behind had been eroded. If it had held some inscription, they were now long gone. He even had a good look at the candles hidden within the vines and confirmed their magical origin. Beyond the iron-wrought stylish lantern, he had observed some circles and inscriptions above which hovered a strange blue flame. It didn't smell gas or anything. It was just light, no warmth, no crackling sound of a flame, no smoke either. Just magic and that thrilled him no end!
Now, he was considering his last Apple. The Apple with a capital A. When he had grabbed it from the tree, it had somehow understood what was going to happen and had fed the Apple of all its magic and life. By the time the young man had climbed back to the ground, leaves were already falling, branches groaned and aged at a visible pace. And by now, the tree looked like some gnarled old black hand reaching for heaven. It was just creepy.
In his hand, the Apple gleamed something powerful. It was like a beacon, a lighthouse in the night. It was calling him, but he had resisted so far. If the first apple had wrecked me, this one might obliterate me, he thought. Still, he needed every advantage he could get. He had no idea what was behind those doors, and he didn't want to die. He had already died once, maybe, and he didn't want to do it again.
Thus, he set himself on the mossy floor, as if were about to take another nap. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. He had been taught meditation at the hospital, as some practician had said it could help him withstand his pain. It had worked... after a fashion. He felt that it might be useful now. As his mind emptied, he drew the Apple to his mouth, its golden hue overcoming the blue light of the magical candles. He took a bite. Overtaken by some mystical force, he ate the whole thing in a few seconds.
He felt his tongue burning, quickly followed by his throat and stomach. Soon enough his whole body sizzled as if thrown into some devil's cauldron. He screamed. He trashed. His body then truly burned in a huge pyre, flames of every color erupted from his limbs, pushing against a silvery mist that had appeared moments ago. Then, his consciousness left him.