Absinthe Berries

Absinthe Berries

A Story by Israr
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A lone boy finds himself treading the harsh deserts to find what he always hoped for: Infinite Knowledge. He eventually encounters an old blind man resting in an oasis nearby, with a peculiar request.

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Absinthe Berries


A lone wanderer makes his way through the harsh Afghan desert. Treading through the blazing sands creates burning scars on the boy's feet, a remembrance of the desert’s wrath. Through the never-ending desert, there is always one thing that the wanderer can rely on, one constant throughout the ever-changing domain: the sun. The boy remembers his father's words. 


“Through the blazing hell of Afghan’s deserts, you must find solace within our friend, the sun. If you ever find yourself lost in the endless orange mirage, position the sun northeast from your right eye, and continue heading straight. There you will find what you search for.” 


The wanderer heeded his father’s words and went in search of the greatest treasure any person could own. Knowledge. 


“You must persevere against the desert’s wrath, no matter what slows you down,” he remembered.


The wanderer persists with nothing but an empty pot of dried water and his father's words.


Eventually, the sun begins to set. Without the sun the wanderer will stay lost in the frigid wasteland. He desperately begins to think of what he could do. 

As if God answered his prayers, the wanderer spots an oasis on the edge of his eyesight. He hurriedly makes his way to the Sanctuary, in hopes of spending the night and finally getting fresh water. The oasis is surrounded at its perimeter by a small community of palm trees. Small shrivels of bushes also surround the trees. Next to the pond lies an opening in a nearby mountain, making a small cave. 


The wanderer arrives, puts down his bindle, and gulps down the refreshing water from the pond. He scoops as much water as he can get in his palms and drinks like cattle on a summer morning. After his body becomes energized, he begins to carefully observe his surroundings. He opens his bindle and takes out his notebook. The notebook his father gave him before the journey. He records every bit of information he sees: the tree's color, length, size, the massive scale of the desert’s hills, and the texture of the water. Knowledge has always been a focal point in the boy’s life, as it has been in his father’s. 

As he begins to search for a place to lie down, he spots a man in the cave nearby. He remains cautious but intrigued as he slowly approaches the man. 


The man is dressed in a worn-down, orange robe. He wears bandages on his feet and hands and a blindfold on his eyes. 


“Hello!” the boy exclaims. 

“Ah! Is there someone there?” 

The boy suddenly realizes his mistake, failing to acknowledge why the blindfold would be on the man in the first place. 

“I”m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you. You’re b-“ 

The man cut him off. “Blind, yes. I am. And you are?” 

“My name is Ranveer, I’m a traveler on a journey to find the Ancient Zenith Ruins in the deserts.” 

“The ruins? You must have heard about the rumors of infinite knowledge hidden deep inside the chambers of Zenith.” 

“Yes, actually my father used to always tell me stories of people trying to find the ruins but failing. I hope to become the first one to discover it.” 

“That is a very ambitious statement. Are you sure you’re willing to withstand any more of the desert’s heat just to find something no one has ever found?” 

“Yes, I will. Nothing's gonna stop me. Matter of fact, what are you doing here?”

“Does that really matter? In the grand scheme of the world? I’m an old man who’s lost his ways, his people, and his own eyes, and somehow made his way into the forbidden deserts. Now I will rest here, near this oasis, until my time has come.” 

“I’m- I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, I admire your passion. I long to have the same motivation as you.” 

“Is there anything I could do?”

“Actually there is something. Have you ever heard of Absinthe Berries?” 

“Absinthe berries? No, wha t is that?” 

“They are one of a kind. A soft, warm, and juicy texture on the inside, while being firm with a dark purple coating on the outside. They’re typically grown in these harsh climates of the desert. I have a request for you boy, if you don’t mind, could you fetch me some of these precious berries?” 

“Don’t worry, I will. I’ll try my best to find them.”


The man began to sleep inside the cave, lying down on a smooth surface of cold rock. The wanderer goes out in search of the Absinthe Berries, hoping to please the man. 

The boy searched and searched, but to no avail. Spending the majority of the night in the cold frigid wind was displeasing to the wanderer, but he was determined to help a stranger. 


In the midst of the midnight sky, the wanderer’s vision began to diminish. When he suddenly spots a glow within the darkness. A glow he had never seen before. A purple light came from a small, withered palm tree.

He sprinted towards the comforting light to find the berries he was looking for. He grabbed several bundles of berries in the palm of his hands and stashed them in his bindle. He suddenly froze, and carefully studied the berries. 


Firm and tender, soft but also squishy. Its cold and lifeless body gives the wanderer warmth and energy. He slowly picks one up, closes his eyes, and swallows one whole. His mouth burns with flames, a spicy and elegant taste. One fit for a king. The aftermath results in a cold mushy mess inside his mouth. The wanderer’s vision begins to restore, as he can see the sun coming back up from the west of his eye. He quickly runs back to the cave the old man was in, eager to see how he reacts. 


“Hey, I found your berries,” the boy stated. 

The man excitedly leaps up from the ground upon hearing his voice. He shoves a handful of berries in his mouth. 

“Ahh, finally. Thank you, child.”
“How is it?”
“Exhilarating. Beautiful.”
“I’m glad I could do something. The sun is coming up, I have to get going now. It was nic-” the man cut the boy off.
“Wait! You’re leaving so soon? Couldn’t you keep me company a little longer?”
“I’m really sorry, I just have to finish what I’m doing first. I’m already out of food, and yet I’m so close to what I’m looking for.”
“Ahh, it’s okay then. I understand.”

The wanderer leaves the man to wallow in the comfort of his rocky home. He prepares to continue the painful walk toward the ruins. 


***


   8 AM: Sand
10  AM: Sand
12  PM: Sand
2   PM: Sand
5   PM: Sand

The desert felt never-ending to the wander. He fell to his knees, gasping for fresh air in the monsoon of dust. The hours without nourishment made the boy feel fatigued and debilitated. Staring at the unforgiving sun for one last time, the boy gives up on his search. 


His skin has become scaly and red. His throat ached and burned the more he went on. His eyes became a yellowish-gold lemon. With no hope in his sight, no escape from the dust and sand, the wanderer began to form tears in his eyes. The only time he felt truly alive was when he ate those berries. 

The sharp, jabbing feeling when he first ate them still lingered within his husk of a mouth. The rush he had felt was like adrenaline he has never experienced before. The pure toxin rejuvenating his cells was unrecognizable bliss �" a product of nature’s everlasting wonders. 

“O-Lord! Give me the strength and vigor to proceed onward!” he pleaded. 


The only response to his request was the howling scratch of the dust on the impenetrable hardened clay. 


The boy kept quiet and sat still. His entire body was shaking, his irrepressible movements shook the Earth. He shrieked a clamorous groan, the groan of mortal’s utter defeat. 


His vision became weary and still, as dark corners began to form in his peripheral view. A familiar luminosity was born anew on the desert’s horizons. The cryptic purple glow shined brightly in the center of the boy’s now half-gone vision. In an instant, the boy leaped upright and sprinted toward the guiding light. He sprinted like a cheetah spotting its prey after starvation. The last of the boy’s remaining energy got used up in a second. It was only able to hold his boy from falling backward into the piles of quicksand. 


He immediately dropped to the ground like a deceased corpse, tears flooding his bloody eyes, and arms taking chunks and handfuls of berries to shove in his mouth. The slow and elegant picking of the berries from before is long gone, as this is a ferocious and violent movement down his throat. He began to devour heaps of berries at once, trying to feel the sense of satisfaction he once felt before. He yearned for the cold and juicy texture rejuvenating his muscles and strength. He yearned for the tangy aftertaste it leaves in his mouth. He yearned for his vision to be restored. Oh, how he begged for his vision to return. Alas, the berries seemed to have minimal effects. His vision and body sparked with energy and were restored back to life a mere instance ago, but now, it is a bland mushy mess that leaves a violet stain on his teeth. He began to feel dizzy and infirm. His eyelids are still dark at all corners, yielding a heavy weight upon them. No more energy has the wanderer, he begins to slowly descend to the soft burning surface of the desert as his eyes finally transform to pitch black. 


****


A light. 


A distant light. It shines like a burning sphere of ember far from his reach. Its light is what keeps it dark. A warm, familiar, geometric shape. Its angular intensity inflates as each second goes by. Is it what the wanderer truly seeks? Was it his treasure all along?

“Wake up.”

The wander suddenly jolts up upon hearing a mysterious voice. It’s the old man.


“Where am I? What happened?” the wander wearily asks. 

“You collapsed on the ground when I, fortunately, found you. It was a miracle that you are still alive” the man said.

“Oh.”
“Did you…taste the berries?”  the old man asks.

“I did, but how do you know?” the boy asks.”
“It was the only thing that kept you alive,” the man replies. 


There was a moment of silence and pondering before the wanderer got up from the ground. He studies the area around him, immediately noticing it’s the same caved-in location from before. 

“How did you even find me? I thought you were resting near this cave, and I traveled for 7 hours straight away from here. Did you walk for 7 hours and then back??” the boy confusingly asks.

“The desert is an array; a grid that has a finite entrance and exit. Finite definitions. But within those definitions are holes, loops, and imperfections. Wormholes, you could supposedly call it. Shortcuts, gaps, and paths ruin the perfect symmetry of the sand’s structure. Perhaps you traveled in a circle.” 

“That’s absurd. How would I ever reach the ruins now?”
“That does not matter, what matters now is that you are still alive, thanks to those berries.”

“When I ate them at first, it felt energizing, rejuvenating, and intense. But when I had them again, I felt nothing but an overwhelming feeling of drowsiness.”
“Hmph. Perhaps its initial feelings wore off but its effect is still there, you would have died without them.” the old man said.

“But, before I awoke I saw something. I saw a burning flame far beyond my reach, barely being able to make it out.”

“I see it too.” the old man said.

“You do?”
“The burning edge of flames increases in intensity each time I eat those berries. I’m afraid these berries are the only thing that keeps me alive and hopeful. Hopeful enough to one day, see that light come closer and closer.”

“I want to see it too.” the boy replied. 

“Then come. Let us embark on our journey and find more berries.”

“But what about the ruins?”

“Remember what I said. If we travel within the maze enough, we will eventually stumble upon it.”


The boy voluntarily agreed to travel with the man. They both walk barefoot in the blazing heat of the desert, for miles and miles. Carefully examining the rocks, buried pillars, and gaps of sand to find their bushel of berries. They walked and walked and walked. Again and again, with no purple glow in sight. 


***


“What time is it?” the boy asks.

“I'm not sure..” the man replies. 

“Why do we not feel weak or hungry?”


The man does not respond but the boy silently acknowledges why. 


The berries.


Three days spent walking in the desert felt like an hour to the wanderers. The harsh sunlight has now transformed into a cool and calm breeze. The surface of the sand has docked into the numbing margin. The man has transformed from hopeful to reluctant. The gaze in his eyes is despairing and dismal. They silently walk on without any halter. 


“I have an idea.” the man says.


The man ushers the boy to follow him and change the direction of their pathing. They turn at a 40-degree angle and increase their pace. Soon, the old man is practically sprinting excitedly as the boy worriedly tries to keep up. 


After passing clouds of dust, they both stumble on the cave opening from before.


“Atlas. My home!” 


The man runs towards the back and blows off the dust from the inner walls, revealing a camouflaging case with a lock. The man took out his key and unlocked the case, revealing his stash of a heap of Abstine Berries. The man flipped over the case and caused the berries to fall over and land on the ground.


Without a word, they both crashed to the ground and went on their knees. Grabbing handfuls of berries and forcefully shoving them into their mouths. They ate like pigs, in a dirty and inhumane way. Violent shakes, juice dripping from their tongue to the ground, no care in their eyes. The once clean and sandy ground turned into an ocean of purple residue. 


After what seemed to be an eternity, the pile of berries became barren and empty. The man and boy dropped dead to the ground with juice on their lips and full bellies. After laying there for hours, the sun begins to rise and heat up the ground once again. They get up and sit in silence for a moment.


“I feel different. Like something just clicked for me. I don’t understand this feeling..” the boy nervously said.

“When you adopt a diet of berries, it becomes a lifestyle. Not a habit, not a hobby, but a way of living” the man said. 

They both continue their journey walking through the harsh Afghan deserts. Their teeth stained with violet and mouths raw, they walk steadily barefoot upon the burning sands. The boy walks slowly with half of his vision flooded in pure darkness but dipped in a fraction of a small burning light.


Yet from the darkness shone a small sliver of stone. Stone bricks are perfectly aligned horizontally, a smooth and cold beige color. It was not naturally born from the wrath of the desert.


“The ruins,” the old man stated.

The boy looked curiously like a cat being left out in the open world. After examining it for a minute, he continued to walk away. 

“Aren’t you going to go in?” the old man asked.

“Why would I? Aren’t we just here for the berries?” the boy said.


The man stared in disbelief, dumbfounded. Then slowly, a small grin forms on his dry face as he continues to walk on with the boy. 


***


16 hours. 


16 hours was the amount of time they passed out from eating the berries. They both wake up at the same time, drowsy and aloof. In a drunken state, they take a long sniff of the fresh desert air. 


“I have something for you,” the old man said, taking out a worn-down, scratched, yellow robe and a perfectly fit blindfold. 


The boy took the garments without a word and put on the blindfold. 

“I can see the light, it’s coming closer,” he said. 

“It will help you find that treasure,” the man said.

They both laugh in a maniacal tone, unsettling the little life left in the desert. 


“I have something I need to tell you,” the old man said suddenly.

The boy’s dilated eyes beat to the rhythm of the wind inside his blindfold, he acts aloof and stiff, almost deaf to notice. 

“I must confess a secret. Don’t tell anyone. These berries, Absinthe berries, are not fruit. They are eyes. Eyes that were once socketed in the holes of humans. Eyes that were once used to see. You see, long ago, the most despicable prisoners were chosen for a new type of punishment. A punishment where guards threw Absinthe wine into their eyes. The liquid burned to the touch and dried out the eye enough for it to fall out of its socket. The substance was strong enough to burn away the cells in the retina, but not strong enough to take away its form. I…, I roam the desert’s hills in search of these eyes to keep myself alive. To keep me from losing sight of the flaming orb. I don’t know why they are here. But I will find out. A long time ago, I thought that if I had no sight there was no reason to live. These eyes gave me a reason to live. Gave me purpose. I thought, if I consume enough eyes, I will be able to see the light again. True sight.” 


The boy was unresponsive, acting tipsy. He stared at the ceiling of their compound, with no thought in his mind. His desire to see the light grew. 


****


Sometimes the boy appears unsettling. When he stops dead in his tracks, turning around and staring into the monsoon of dust, knowing that there is someone greater beyond the desert’s invisible boundary.






It scares me. 

© 2022 Israr


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Added on December 13, 2022
Last Updated on December 13, 2022
Tags: adventure, journey, philosophy, philosophical, blind, truth, knowledge, meaning, literature, short story, singular story, short, fiction, desert, eye, historical, fun

Author

Israr
Israr

About
Hello! I am a new writer primarily delving into horror, philosophy, and poetry. I am excited to post some of my work and see some of yours! more..

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