A Garden Journey

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New Chapter Begins:

“Wake up, little god flower.” Atrius gently shook Diantha’s shoulder. “The rain has stopped and it’s a good time to go walking in the garden. You'll need exercise to keep from getting stiff.”

Diantha sat upright in the straw bed and blinked her eyes in the bright light filtering through an open window. 

She detected the scent of damp soil creeping in and mixing with the fragrant hay cushioning her. She languished in the warm sun and comforting aromas.

She moved her arms and legs and felt less protest from the abused limbs than she had earlier.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Midday,” Atrius answered, and then added when he saw her raise her eyebrows questioningly. “On the same day, don’t worry. I won’t let you sleep your life away.”

“Thanks.”

Atrius extended a hand and eased her to her feet. She winced a little from the pain still lingering in the deep parts of her body, but bravely followed her host out of his modest hospital house.

She knew Atrius was right about walking being the best thing she could do, but it sure didn’t feel that way.

Once outside, however, her aches and pains seemed to disappear. They had stepped into the most beautiful garden Diantha had ever seen, and her mother was a Master Gardener.

At first, she was transfixed by the wonder around her, almost afraid to step onto what seemed to be sacred ground and breathe blessed air.

Atrius nodded in recognition of her reaction, as though he had seen it before. He stepped back and motioned for her to follow.

Reverently, she took one step, then another. The wonder was almost too much to take in.

Again, tender eyes flashed her way, and again he motioned with his hand.

“Come, my lady. It’s simply a garden.”

Diantha’s eyes widened in disagreement. “This is no garden, Atrius. It’s surely the entrance to a magical kingdom.”

Atrius’ gentle laughter put her at ease.

“Nothing magical here, just meticulous gardening. Come on.” He held out a weathered hand and took hers.

Together, they walked down a cobbled path that wound in and out of plants and blossoms of every description and variety.

Diantha was astounded by multi-colored foliage and flowers, bright in some places providing a sense of excitement and joy, and subtle in others calming the stormy soul.

Enchanted, Diantha reached out and touched bloom after bloom, feeling the velvety caress of each. She leaned in and smelled as many as she could, astonished at the diversity of scents. It was a buffet of fragrances and colorful vegetation.

“Do you like it?” Atrius asked, breaking the spell that held Diantha’s attention. His rich voice was as poignant as the flowers around her.

Diantha glanced up, and for the first time, met his deep tumultuous eyes. Her breath caught in her throat as she noticed how handsome he was standing there shrouded in blossoms. In spite of his strange appearance, his beautiful green eyes seemed to harbor secrets thousands of years old, yet fresh as a child’s.  His dark hair danced around strong well chiseled features and accented sun darkened skin.

He stood silent, his body emanating strength and prowess. Diantha felt a strange emotion beginning to grow in her heart. She was confused by the feeling, but excited at the same time.

“The garden is beyond description,” she finally managed to stammer out. “I grew up with flowers all around me, and yet I don’t even recognize half of the ones here.”

“Many are not seen in your world,” he explained quietly. His green eyes glanced away, breaking the magnetic spell. “But, if you look there by the waterfall, you’ll see your namesake.”

Diantha hurried over to where Atrius pointed, and sure enough, there she found a myriad of colorful dianthus flowers. She knelt on the path and stroked a few of them carefully. Their vibrant colors were enhanced by softly serrated edges, their touch so gentle they felt like a caress. 

“They really are lovely,” Diantha remarked. Her eyes raised back up to Atrius, trying to catch his eye and recreate their moment from earlier.

“They are survivors, just like you,” he said. He deftly avoided eye contact. “Now, I want to show you something else. Come on.”

The unique couple made their way along the cobbled path which ended at the edge of a thick forest. 

He motioned her to stand beside him, and then pointed to a fenced area. There were several graves inside. The stones were faded and crumbling.

“Whose are these?” she asked.

“My family's,” he answered. He opened the gate to the small cemetery and walked inside. Diantha followed behind him.

He gestured to the one on the far right. “This one is the grave of my mother, Helen, and beside her is Bentley, my father.”

“Were they Centaurs like you?”

“No, they were human. They weren’t really my parents, but they found me here one day on this very spot. I was unconscious and naked. They fed and clothed me, and raised me like their own son. They never even seemed to notice I was different from them. They gave me everything they could, and then they grew old and died.”

“And you didn’t.”

Atrius sighed deeply. “No, I did not."

“How long ago was that?”

Atrius didn't answer at first. He seemed lost in images long departed from this world.

Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke, “Many generations have passed since they walked this earth. I miss them as though they had only just left.”

“I’m sorry, and who are these others?” Diantha pointed with her head toward the other two graves.

“The one marked Kindness was my wife, and the one that says Grace, my daughter.”

“Were they Centaurs?”

“Yes. Once, long ago, others of my kind could be found on Earth. Now, I think I may be one of the last of my kind.”

“What happened to your wife and daughter? Weren’t they immortal like you?”

“To be honest, I don’t completely know,” Atrius said. His voice was thick with emotion. “There was a bad fire in the valley after a long dry spell, and they were trapped in a gully. By the time I got to them, it was too late. Grace was only two years old. I don't know all the rules for what can kill an immortal as I have no one to talk to about it, but fire killed them. Maybe it could kill me, too.”

“That’s terrible. Did you ever get married again after they died?”

“No, I didn’t even try. She and Grace weren’t really like me, you know. They were more horse-like than mankind. I loved Kindness, after a fashion, but was never in love with her. We were just too different.”

“And all she ever had was the one little girl?”

“No, we have a son, Georgios. He was a bit older than Grace and more human than horse. We were, and are still, very close. We were out hunting when the fire started.”

“So, he's still alive?”

Atrius nodded, and Diantha could see the light of parental pride mix with sorrow in his eyes.

“He lives with the other warriors across the valley. He’s the head of the military, answering only to me.”

“I’d love to meet him.”

“I’m sure that will happen at some point, but the next step is to introduce you to the townspeople.”

“Who are all human?”

Atrius laughed. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Have you ever wished you weren’t a Centaur?” Diantha asked. Her eyes fluttered expectantly at her mysterious rescuer.

Atrius flashed an enigmatic smile, expressive eyes now betraying pure pleasure.

He reared up on hind legs, his forefeet pawing the air. Magnificent muscles rippled beneath the ebony skin of his horse body, and the abdomen and arms of his human parts.

As if in one motion, he pulled a bow off his shoulder and placed an arrow from his quiver. Pointing them upward, he pushed off from the earth in a motion intense enough to shake the earth beneath his feet.

He leapt so high, Diantha had to bend her head almost 90 degrees to see him. Legs pumping, he twisted in mid-air and let loose the arrow.

A branch from the top of an oak fell to the ground at her feet, a silver arrow pierced through its tissues. Moments later, he landed with a thunderous rapport, crushing rocks beneath his hooves into powder.

The majestic Centaur stood for a moment, heaving his mighty chest and gazing at her through the eyes of countless ages. No longer her doctor, king, or any of the other titles he’d claimed, he was now the substance of legends.

“Have you ever wished you were?” he responded.