The Golden Apple

This story is by Kaiya Hart and was part of our 2023 Fall Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.

An old master once found himself sitting with two students, a young man and woman who, until that day, had been the best of friends. The boy, in order to raise his status among the other students, had told a lie about the lady and after arguing loudly enough to catch the attention of their teacher, found themselves sitting before him.
The master studied them a moment, then smiled. “I once knew two boys about your age,” the teacher began. “Tomas and Marco. They went seeking the Apple of Delphi. Winning the apple would bring them riches and fame, allowing them to save their families, starving due to recent famine.”
Arriving at the oracle’s mountain, the boys, who had travelled far and long from their homeland together, found Delphi’s home was surrounded by a cheerful village and verdant gardens full of blue throated songbirds.
The Grand Oracle, Delphi, hearing that there were new challengers for the apple, came to greet them. She fed them and offered them lodging for the night. When they were settled before her fire, she told them what they must do.
“You have three days to climb the mountain. It is not so easy as it seems; the trail is rough and broken, for the mountain is uneasy and shifts often. You must carry those packs up the mountain and back with you.’ She pointed to two packs beside the door.
“That sounds simple enough,’ said Marco with a laugh. Delphi only smiled at him.
The boys slept soundly that night and woke at dawn to the singing of the songbirds, calling the sun from his blanket of stars to warm the earth once more.
The boys took the packs Delphi had left them, finding that they were full of heavy stones. Though they were young and used to farm labors, the stones seemed to grow heavier with every step until it was as though they carried the very world upon their backs. The path was slippery and the dirt upon it loose. There were sections of it which were almost too high to climb, though the boys managed by helping each other.
Soon, they came upon one of Delphi’s songbirds gravely wounded. Marco thought they ought to leave the creature where it lay or put it out of its misery, but Tomas, stopped him.
“No, brother. It has a broken wing. Delphi can heal it.”
Marco did not see a purpose in saving such a small creature. He didn’t want to sacrifice the day and the oracle already had many other birds, but Tomas would not be dissuaded. So they returned to the oracle with the bird.
Delphi greeted them and was pleased to see the bird; this was a favorite among her songbirds and it had been taken by a hawk the day before. “Blessed are those who choose kindness over personal gain,” she said to them.
The next day, the boys began again. This time, they made it halfway up the trail, before coming to a ledge that was too high and smooth to climb, even if they took off their packs and one stood upon the shoulders of the other. The boys studied the obstacle, but neither could come to its solution by the time the sun was setting.
On the third day, Tomas got up early to sit in the garden and listen to the songbirds sing the sun awake. One bird dove down to perch upon his shoulder. “I recognize you,” the boy said; it was the bird they had brought to Delphi on the first day they had faced the mountain, fully healed.
“I’ve a riddle,” the bird whispered to him, for she was grateful for her life and wished to help him as he had helped her. “The longer you carry an unnecessary burden, the heavier it becomes. But if you learn to stand upon your sorrow, you can reach the sun.” She flew away, returning to the trees and her songs.
Tomas told Marco, when he woke, what the bird had said to him. “A curious riddle,” Marco said. As before, they climbed the mountain and they managed the trek faster, this time, coming to the impassable ledge before noon. Marco looked at the ledge, smiling. Then, without a word, he opened his pack and began to unload the stones inside.
“That isn’t allowed,” Tomas said, frowning.
Marco smiled. “Isn’t it? Have you not worked out your little bird’s riddle?”
The second boy paused, then laughed; Delphi had not said to carry the stones up the mountain. She had told them only to carry the packs up and then down again. Yet had they left the stones behind, they would still have come to this place and not been able to go any further. Only by standing upon their burdens, could they further their path.
Together, the two boys built stairs and it took the stones from both their packs to do so in a way that they could climb up. But then they came to another place like the first. A new dilemma presented itself. There were no more stones to build with and this was their last chance to reach the apple. “’Tis a pity,” Marco said. “Had we another day, we could descend with empty packs and return with another load of stones tomorrow.”
This time, Tomas had an idea. “One of us can stay below and throw the stones up so the other can build a second set of stairs.”
Marco agreed quickly. “You’re right,” he said. “I will stay below.” Tomas moved quickly as Marco threw the stones up. The second staircase was built just as twilight set in, and Tomas nearly ran up it. At the top, the golden apple sat upon an altar. Beside it sat his songbird singing sweetly.
Tomas took the apple, admiring the shine of it. He felt the pull of the gold and he thought he heard a whisper, just the softest of sounds, so he bent his ear to the apple. “He who did the work should have the spoils,” the voice whispered, as sweet as warm honey.
“Beware the voice of gold,” sang the little bird flying up to perch in the tree above the shrine. “For it will close your heart against love and blood alike, if you let it.” And the little bird flew away.
Tomas hurried back to his friend. Marco took the apple when it was offered and looked long upon it. He, too, bent his head to the gold, as if listening, but then laughed and tossed it back to Tomas.
They started down the trail, but found it was too dark to continue. They slept beneath the stars, Tomas falling into a deep sleep due to his early rising and the labor of the day. When he woke, he found both Marco and the apple were gone.
Tomas rushed down the mountain and found Delphi’s home in a state of celebration. When Tomas stepped inside, he saw Marco being applauded for having won the apple. Delphi crossed the room to him. “Your friend tells me a very interesting story about your journey. Would you like to hear it?”
Tomas looked upon Marco, as close to his heart as a brother. He calmly shook his head, the songbird’s words in his mind. He valued his friend more than any gold or a hero’s welcome. “Whatever he has told you is true, Milady.”
“Really?” Delphi asked. “You’ve nothing else to say?”
Tomas knew that it was unwise to lie to an oracle, but, still, he shook his head. “The mountain was scaled and the apple was attained in the three days you granted to us. Marco is a brother to my soul. If it were his fingers or mine to touch the apple first, it matters not, for they are the same in my heart.”
Overhearing this, Marco, alight with shame, admitted to the oracle that it was Tomas, not him, who had gotten the apple. He had wanted the glory for himself, for the whispers of the apple had made him afraid he’d be forgotten.
At this, the goddess withdrew from her robes a second beautiful, golden apple. This, she dropped into Marco’s hands and gave the second apple to Tomas. “One of you has proven yourself both wise and kind and the other has gained precious wisdom; there is little reward in fame, if you must lose your friends to gain it. Gold, even in its purest form, is a fickle friend, but wisdom and friendship have no end of worth.”
Here, the master grew silent and looked upon his students. The boy who had lied about his friend watched as the master drew a bright, golden apple from his robes. “Are you Tomas?” he asked.
The master smiled. “No. I am Marco; I chose to teach the lessons of Delphi to others. Tomas chose the land and family. To this day, we remain brothers.”