A leaf

Once upon a time, there was a brave young man living in a forest. He was not alone in that forest, his family and his friends and his tribe all lived there as well – but even if he had been alone in that forest, he would have still been ok, so hospitable, comfortable and homely this forest was.

Indeed, it contained just enough trees to make it sheltered, but not so many that it would feel suffocating. Enough animals roamed its grounds to make it lively and diverse – yet no terribly scary beasts there to terrorise everyone. It was neither too dry or too wet, too hot or too cold, too dark or too light. Long inviting banks of moss made for comfy beds or seats and a variety of colourful flowers entertained the eye and kept the mind sharp.

All in all, everyone there lived happily, whether wild, tame or human. People did hunt and get hunted, animals did kill and get killed, but at least everyone felt that they had a fair chance.

The brave young man had therefore grown up a happy child and a strong teenager. He had run up and down the foresty hills, climbed up and down tall or small trees, swum up and down the fast-flowing river, had his up and downs with temperamental girls. And now that he stood, vigorous and clever, on the brink of adulthood, he was in love.

And now that he was in love, the memory of all these happy years seemed to fade, the roots that held him strong and high felt weak, nothing mattered any longer of the friends and flirts, of the trees and flowers, of the pets and beasts: he was madly in love and could die any minute!

Although his love was reciprocated, he knew that to fulfill it he would have to overcome countless obstacles, defeat many foes and survive many perils, and every time his mind approached any of these eventualities, with the caution of a butterfly fluttering towards a flickering flame, his heart went blank, hollow, seemed to stop beating, and a numbing pain shot through his body like a godly lightning.

Together with his love, they went to see the Old one. In his booming and wrinkled voice, the latter asked them:

“So you want to get married, eh? Well it’s all very well feeling a bit enamoured and all that, but in real life, in the real life of marriage that is, things ain’t that easy. So you have to be a good match if we want this venture to succeed, and not be a waste of time for you both. We’ll have to perform a few checks I’m afraid!”

“I have money”, spoke out the boy shyly.

“Well that’s a beginning!” boomed the Old one. “But it ain’t nearly enough”, he went on whispering. “We need to make sure what you guys are made of, and crucially how strongly your mutual affection binds you.”

“What do we need to do?”

“Let me tell you.” He paused dramatically. “Beyond the Dead Valley, there is a wood called Heart Wood. It is called thus because if you were a bird and you could fly, you would see that from above, it is shaped as a heart. At the very centre of Heart Wood, there is an ancient oak tree. You will need to find that tree. Examine it carefully because you’ll have to be able to describe it to me when you come back. You first task is this: go find this tree, choose each of you a leaf and bring it back to me. You must always stay together, and set out alone the two of you.”

The brave young man and the brave young woman nodded, fearful but determined. The Dead Valley had a fearsome reputation, and people seldom travelled through it, unless they had to. Set deep between two gigantic mountain ranges, whose abrupt rocky flanks kept any earth-bound living being prisoner of the valley, it was damp and covered in a very dense forest inhabited by untameable beasts, carnivorous plants and, some murmured, cannibals.

After much consideration, they decided to travel quite lightly but well armed. They loaded a donkey and a goat with food supplies, weapons and useful stuff like plasters and mosquito repellent. The goat was there to provide them with milk and, if they got stuck somewhere long enough, cheese. If they got stuck even longer, it could always become meat.

The brave youg man’s favourite weapon was a long sword, but he also took with him a strong bow, a shotgun, a revolver and a pair of grenades – ready for anything.

The brave young woman liked to fight with a light crossbow, but she also had her own shotgun, revolver and long dagger.

Finally, waving a hasty good-bye to their tearful families, they departed. Oh and down deep deep steep crevices, along awfully dangerous ridges, up frightfully tricky hills, they travelled on and on. And all that time, when they were not holding hands, they conversed sweetly, their eyes and their thoughts meeting shyly and brightly.

For days and days they voyaged in bliss, until difficulties finally caught up with them. Their food supplies were running low; the brave young man had not proved so adept at hunting rabbits as he had been at chasing girls; the brave young woman was not nearly as tough as she and everyone else thought she was, and she was sorely missing the comfort of her home.

They were now talking very little and, although the occasional flash of a smile reminded them that they were in love, they were now mainly focused on getting through this adventure.

After what seemed a very long time, they eventually found the tree. Aware of the significance of the moment, and stealing furtive glances at one another, they picked their leaves and placed them carefully in the little wooden caskets they had brought especially for the purpose.

Slowly, doggedly, their hearts warmed by the presence of the leaves, they journeyed back to their village. There they sought out the Old one and presented him with the leaves.

“So here you are little ones!”, he greeted them cheerfully. “Let’s see what you’ve got. So, you found that tree then, tell me, what’s it like?”

The brave young man and the brave young woman, tense but determined, proceeded to describe the tree they had found. When they finally stopped talking, the Old one looked at them for a while, quizzically, then said:

“My dear young friends, you have done very well! You have travelled far, you have travelled deep, deep into the valley and deep into your soul, and now you’re back. Now tell me, I want each of you to explain your choice of leaf.”

So the brave young woman explained how she had liked the leaf’s contour, its wavery silhouette and the shade of its green. She had also liked its position on the tree, on a biggish branch, quite close to the trunk, in full view but sheltered. She had thought it looked strong and independent, distinct and distinguished, unique and humble. It reminded her of her mother.

Then the brave young man explained his own choice, how his leaf was broad and elegant, with a few yellow stains that only reinforced its healthy appearance. It reminded him of his mother.

The Old one smiled and stroked his beard.

“Now my friends, here is your final task. You must go to the Grand Birch and choose a leaf. You will do that in turn, and I will accompany you. You will show me the leaf, and then the other will have to find it!”

Upon these words, he took the brave young man to the Grand Birch and watched sternly as he climbed up the tree. There he tried to be as true to his heart as possible, as the Old one had advised him to, and carefully chose a leaf, the most beautiful he could see.

“That one!” he pointed out to the Old one. The latter climbed up the have a good look, then nodded. They both got down and returned to the village.

“Now good luck!” said the Old one to the brave young woman, and with a nod she left on her errand.

She soon came back, carrying the little wooden box containing the token of her love and comprehension. She stopped before the two men, feeling lonely and vulnerable, and sensing that fate was what it was, then “Hell!” she exclaimed under her breath as she proudly handed the box over to the Old one. He seized it with care, opened it slowly. He peered in, then with a mischievous smile, retrieved the leaf and showed it to the brave young man, who broke into a radiant smile and just looked at his brave young woman with adoration.

“Now your turn!”

And the Old one took the brave young woman to the Grand Birch, where she also carefully chose the leaf she thought most beautiful.

When, standing beside the Old one, she watched her brave young man take the direction of the Grand Birch, she wondered whether she wanted him to find the leaf. Then she wondered if this unholy sentiment had made her choose the wrong leaf. She was about to address the Old one to announce that she had made the wrong choice, and beg to try again, when the brave young man appeared in the distance.

So with her heart racing as if to arrive more quickly at the denouement, she looked on in a haze as the Old one received the box and gingerly opened it. Before he retrieved the leaf, the Old one gave a quizzical look at her, and she felt she was melting away. Then, slowly, he handed the leaf to her, and she burst into happy tears as she kissed the leaf she had selected on that grand old tree.

The brave young woman and the brave young man were now wife and husband, and lived happily ever after – though they did not have any children.