Garden Knight

Part 1

The garden was always a shade brighter in the rain. It was as if the gift of the skies wasn't water, but liquid magic, washing our world to show what was there all along, nature in her in humble brilliance. The buttercups became gold, the grass the shade of every dreamer's meadow, roots quenched, soil renewed. And after the patter of the rain came bursts of birdsong, their hearts rejoicing the occasion of the rain.

The green fields were lush and wild, like a jungle without the trees, full of promise and hope. A knight stands in the middle of the lush garden, a knight with a head carved in two beautiful black horns, his hair was curly and covered his eyes, in his hand was Fallen Champion. A broken sword created from a fallen #2 pencil, sharp to the touch, in his other hand, was a thimble, once used by the old caretakers of this world, the giants the other bugs called humans. His trusty shield he named it Cerebus.

He was a knight with a mission, he had to protect this perfect garden, that was the job given to him from his king, a regal moth, old and tired of protecting his world. And did the job he did, he was the greatest knight the king ever saw, of course when the Giants thought it was time to "mow the lawn" or when "winter" came he would go into hiding.

But due to him, no one in this world or as he heard the giants say "Neighborhood" it spread and grew and stretched. The garden stretched up into town, winding like a green river through the bright party towers and houses. Due to him, he caused the world beauty for his king.

What was only green a week before has become a garland of the most vibrant blooms. They are colors to weave dreams from, as soft and gay as any silk. How they come from the earth, sunshine and rain feel akin to magic, even though the science is well known. He walked through the beautiful garden, hearing his king walk behind him. He turned and bowed only for the king to move his hand up and nod towards the castle. The castle suspended in the air by a string and a tree branch. Two yellow and blue feathered dragons were being rubbed by two yellow and black knights holding screws in one hand and a thread in the other. The two bowed to both the knight and the king. The two walked into the castle.

Humble braziers half enclosing each of the eight oakwood columns light up every part of the throne hall and mantle the hall in warm yellows. The tapestries depicting the kingdom hanging from the sloped ceiling dance in the flickering light while memorials and carved images look down upon the limestone floor of this grand hall.

An orchid rug splits the entire room in half from the doors to the throne while winged banners with adorned lacery the walls. Between each banner stands a large candlestick (Match) almost all of them have been lit and in turn illuminate the mosaics of the fiercest creatures of this kingdom below them. Thick windows are enclosed by curtains colored the same orchid as the banners. The curtains have been adorned with intricate embroidery and impressive needlework.

A radiant throne of oak sits beneath a fairly plain looking canopy and is adjoined by four smaller and less elaborate seats for the royal highness' trustees. The throne is covered in intricate etchings and fixed on each of the ornate legs is a stone head of a legendary creature. The bulky pillows are a light orchid and these too have been adorned with burnished embroideries.

Those seeking the wisdom of their royal highness can do so on the many long and rather bulky brass benches, all of which are facing the center of the hall. Those of higher standing can instead take a seat in the opulent mezzanines facing the benches below.

Upon the wall lay a shield, rusted and scratched. The Knight could see that it had been made by a master, forged in fiery heat before setting in cold water. Thereafter it had then been adorned, embellished, decorated. It reminded him of turtles, how they lived inside a shell, keeping their softness hidden.

The king took a seat and looked to the king before crossing his leg. The Garden knight kneeled once more before hearing a loud grunt. He rose and stared. The king was older with orange hair, long antennas, and bright beautiful wings. He raised his hand before shaking his head. The knight was silent as he slowly watched the king walk to the wall before reaching for his crown and motioning him over.

The regal moth stared for a while before letting out a quiet. "My son isn't fit to run this garden," He patted the knight and looked. "I am old and think you should be the next in line." He walked to the throne. "I know telling him would cause outrage but," Garden knight simply wiped his eyes and nodded. "I will give you time to think about it," He stood and hugged the Knight before sending him out.

The knight was quiet as he moved down the tree, he looked up to see the prince mouth standing just outside of the castle next to two bees. Had he heard everything? He moved down the tree and into the garden he knew.

The night came quickly, he was asleep near the flowerbed, he was awakened by a crash and scream, he jumped to his feet grabbing his blade and turning to see it, a fire. The white house burned like a bonfire set with gasoline. The orange flames were garish against the brilliant paint, the black smoke making dark columns into an otherwise perfectly black sky. The once blue door was already burning, paint bubbled consumed in seconds by the intense heat. A window blew out sending hot shards of glass into the unkempt yard. It was an inferno that would burn itself out, putting the fire out early would only increase the length of the demolition afterward - better to rebuild from the ashes than work with a structure too compromised to stand.

The dragons landed in front of the knight pointing their screws at the knight only for him to kneel and surrender, he looked up seeing the Prince, Agnus floating above them. "Take the murderer to Mouse City." The prince waved his hand to a simple nod by the knights. The two tied his hands with the threads and knocked the Garden knight out.