Beneath it stood a small round table, and on top of that a plain white plate and a knife lay neatly arranged.
I may be wrong (sarcasm fully engaged), but I think I’m supposed to eat some apples.
I walked over to the gate. It was a tall, ornate thing, wrought from dark iron, with swirling strips that looped and curled like vines. The bars were too tight to squeeze through, and the lock glinted in the dim light. Clearly, it wasn’t opening without a key.
I glanced back at the apples. Of course.
On the wall behind the tree, I could see some words. The system loved it rhymes.
Bite the apple, strength you’ll gain,
But hidden within may bring you pain.
A bite too deep may break a tooth,
Cut it wide to find the truth.
One alone holds what you seek,
The rest give strength, but soon grow weak.
When you depart beyond this room,
All to dust shall meet their doom.
As I suspected, the key would be inside one of the apples. Best to cut them open rather than risk breaking a tooth on the search. Still, I was pleasantly surprised to discover the apples were edible. After weeks of freeze-dried rations from the supply packs, the thought of real fruit was almost overwhelming.
I plucked one from the branch, marvelling at its weight in my hand, the smooth skin, the sharp sweetness of its scent. For a moment, I simply held it, savouring the anticipation.
The knife slid through the flesh as if it were nothing, clean and easy. Pale juice welled along the cut, running down onto the plate. No key in this one. Just crisp, white fruit.
I brought a slice to my mouth and bit in. The crunch was loud in the stillness of the chamber, the taste fresh and vivid, flooding my tongue with sweetness and a hint of tartness. I closed my eyes, chewing slowly.
By the stars, it was good. Better than good. For a moment, I almost forgot I was on a quest at all.
But there were more apples to open, and somewhere inside one of them, the key I needed was waiting.
By the tenth or fifteenth apple I was done eating. On the table and even on the floor next to the table cut up apple was a testament to my failure.
Apples were nice but everything in moderation please.
I cut into another apple, and the blade met a metallic object.
“Yes, at fucking last.”
The key gleamed faintly as I pried it free. I pushed it into the lock, twisted, and the ornate gate swung open without resistance. No doubt the next chamber would greet me with another tree and more fruit. I just hoped—prayed, really—that it wouldn’t be apples again.
I stepped into the winding passage beyond and let my mind wander. If it had to be fruit, then let it be something different. Something worth the trouble. It would have to be soft enough to cut, so oranges were out unless the knife was enchanted. Peaches, maybe. Pears, I could live with. Even plums would be a nice change—sweet, tart, and mercifully small.
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The thought of eating anything other than another apple was enough to keep me walking, faster than before.
The passage opened into another room, and thankfully there were pears in between the apples.
The gate was a bit bigger and had two locks. So, I assumed that I would find two keys in the fruit. I walked to the rhyme to verify my assumptions.
Apples red and pears of gold,
Each in twain a secret hold.
Cut them open, count to four,
Two will guide and two implore.
Eat the flesh, it serves you right,
But none may pass beyond this site.
Choose with care, for keys may lie,
Else from the start you must comply.
Summer’s light will show the way,
But night’s pale face will lead astray.
So, if I read it right, I would end up with four keys, though only two of them would be correct. I read the inscription again and realized it had something to do with summer, with the sun itself.
I plucked a pear first and cut it open. No key inside—but I wasn’t disappointed. What I did have was a ripe, juicy fruit. I bit down, and the flesh melted in my mouth. Wonderful. Soft, sweet, and dripping with juice that ran down my chin. After all those apples, the taste was almost divine.
I let myself enjoy it for a moment longer before moving on, cutting open a second. I decided to stop eating before overeating like a piggy and only achieving an intense dislike of the fruit.
Translate – stop eating before you feel like puking.
I found the first key and stopped eating pears after that. The key was beautiful with the images of a sun on it.
Wow, I pushed the pieces of pear from the table and put the key on it. I had three more to find.
I continued cutting the pears open, but I did not eat them anymore. Shortly after that I found the second key. It had a picture of a moon on it.
Nice.
That key joined the other one, and it was time to cut open apples again.
Before long, I uncovered another key, this one marked with a sun. According to the rhyme, I needed the two sun keys to move forward. Still, just to be certain, I kept cutting until I also found the moon key.
The system was tricky, and I didn’t want it to count the task as incomplete if I stopped at only three keys. Better to spend a little more time now than risk having to repeat the entire ordeal.
Eventually, I found the fourth key. With all of them laid out, I selected the two suns—the ones I truly needed—and left the others on the table. Then I slid the correct keys into the lock. With a solid click, the gate opened.
I had one more room and then the final test or task for summer.
Plums, I would love some plums. Figs would also be nice.
I entered the room, and it was … peaches.
Peaches are nice as well.
The tree before me was heavier than the last, its branches bending under the weight of three kinds of fruit: the familiar apples, the pears I had already dealt with, and now peaches. Their fuzzy skins glowed warmly in the light, promising sweetness.
I walked over to the wall behind the tree and began reading the rhyme.
Apple, pear, and peach you see,
Each within a hidden plea.
Three keys lie where seeds once stay,
Yet only two will show the way.
Each bears the sun, its shining face,
But count the rays to find their place.
The brightest pair the door shall turn,
The dim is false, let none discern.
The fruit is free, partake, be fed,
Yet turns to dust when you have fled.
If I am right, I will find a key in each of the fruit. Only two will be the right ones and the pictures on them will determine which ones must be used.
I began with the peaches and began munching on them. When my tummy gave me the ‘enough eaten’ sign, I found the key just a few minutes later.
Moving on to the apples, it was not long before I found the second key. They both had a sun with rays streaming from the sun, but they were not identical. One had more rays than the other.
“The brightest pair,” I mumbled.
I had to find the last one to compare but I knew which ones to use. I sighed and moved back to cutting pears this time.
I wonder what the last room would be, maybe making jam.
I picked a pear, cut it open, and tossed it aside. Then another. And another. Over and over again. Soon a small pile gathered at my feet, each fruit split and useless. Such a shame. Such a waste.
I found the last key, and with all of them, it was easy to discard the one with the leas number of rays.
I took the right keys and left the one on the table that would not be used. I opened the gate and onto the last room of summer.
Thankfully, I would not be making jam.
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