THE SEVENTH REALM: AMETHYST

The scent of orange blossom stopped Skyblue before she saw the tree. It reminded her of the days when she slipped away to meet her fellow misfits, out of sight of the adults. It brought back Aurora, the Sangha, and Arthyr Aurelio’s words, so strange then and so familiar now.

Helio had advised her to rest before entering the Amethyst Realm. Skyblue approached the orange tree and rested her forehead against its trunk. To her, orange blossom had always been the scent of freedom.

A branch lowered itself within reach of her mouth. An orange hung from it.

“Thank you,” Skyblue said.

She picked it carefully and sat down to peel it. As she broke the skin, its scent lingered on her paws. She thought of the oranges she had eaten as a child and tried to find in this one the exact taste of one of those days.

She tasted a segment. It wasn’t the flavor she had been looking for, but one she couldn’t compare to any other: the taste of this orange. Its thin skin broke between her teeth and juice filled her mouth. She chewed slowly and waited before taking the next.

That one was different too.

She wondered how many oranges she had eaten without noticing. Then she stopped wondering. She felt the trunk against her back, the earth beneath her body, the air among the branches. She could attend to it all without leaving the taste of the fruit behind. Her mind was silent.