He drew in a deep breath, steeling himself as he observed her immaculate beauty. Envious, he just wanted to grab her and make her his own, steal her for himself. But he sensed that restraint at this moment was a more sly way to go. She was on the slab of cold marble, still, motionless. Bouquets of flowers lay loosely strewn on the stone encircling her, emitting life-giving oxygen and intoxicating scents that kept her spirit uplifted and strong. He knew she was waiting for her true love’s kiss, a Champion. He knew he was not that being, but maybe, maybe he could pass, trick the narrative.

His vision blurred as he obsessed first on the hair. The flowing strands of blonde reached out into every direction, gently suspended in the currents. He saw the expansiveness of a clean sky that enveloped the land and the people, effortlessly breathing air woven with sweetness and love. So that the mere act of taking a breath was energizing, sparking an uncontained liveliness.

He peered into the eyes and saw pristine waters of a luscious blue, felt the rushing of rivers, the expansiveness of oceans, the power of currents and the resonance of crashing waves. Water that excited the taste buds and immediately hydrated the throat and filled the stomach with absorbent liquid that swept through the intestines and wound its way to the heart and veins into every organ, bringing nourishment of the body mind and spirit, penetrating the walls, making them supple, alive.

And as he took in the visage of her ample and firm breasts he lost himself in rugged terrain like the land’s purple skeleton, huge and unconquerable, blessing him with a well deserved humbleness that made him squirm.

And in her stomach he saw ripples and then waves of grain, gracefully swaying in the integrated wind, plenteous, rich.

And he could stand it no longer he wanted to possess. His lips began to twitch. Maybe, just maybe, he could pull this off. Her diamond glass encasement was temporarily removed for polishing. The moment was ripe.

As he bent down to kiss her, she felt the orange heat emanating from his head. She smelled a rancidness unbefitting a hero that could infect every part of her, but still he moved closer until his lips touched hers. The orange color expanded. She felt her rivers dry up and become clogged with pesticides, needles, wax, toxic foam like a whipped cream sprinkled with cockroach parts topping off a blended dead-butterfly latte. She saw her grains thrashed and decayed, the soil infected, the produce deformed and incomplete. She felt her mountains, her spine, her skeleton starting to crumble. She spoke to him even as his lips touched hers.

“You are not legendary,” breath emitting from her that melted his false countenance. “You are not my equal. You shall not have me.” She spewed her polluted air, filled with soot, into his face, and he began to choke and gag. He reeled and swayed and finally his knees gave out and he fell to the ground helpless.

“You need to build your own magnificence. You do not come to me like an orange thief cloaked in darkness, stealing my precious features.”

And as he waned, her beauty returned, expansive skies, rolling rivers and powerful waterfalls, edged with majestic mountains. Her spine restored, her skeleton rebuilt, in a space for which there is no time.

“I’ll await my true love,” she announced out loud for anybody to hear, but mostly to reenforce the command to herself as the clean diamond glass was maneuvered back into place.

The people expelled a sigh of relief that resounded deep into the earth.

And the message from their psyches vibrated to all parts of the globe, splintering off into countless directions until a fraction of them found an impeccable being; And like one arrow, they pierced the aura of One they were unknowingly looking for. A man of great integrity and vision who respected the earth, the waters, the forests, the skies. And he loved humanity unconditionally like they were his infant babe. His physicality was substantial. Musculature developed, but calm. The psyches of the messengers were able to conjure up avision of the maiden on the marble slab. He understood all in an instant, his magnificent heart expanding to the task. He began. He fought the cold of the ice, the heat of the sun, the impossible navigation of mountains, and the crossing of great bodies of water. The journey would take six days.

In the meantime, the defeated orange charlatan lay as a powdery substance on the ground next to the slab. But the maiden, feeling violated by the recent invasion, began to shed some tears, and as they eked out under the diamond glass and dribbled down, they mixed with the remains of the menace. He began to reassemble, restructure. The cells began to grow with a renewed sense of evil. The staunch hero, still five days away, felt the increased urgency and called on his magic to be stronger. So granted! He now skated above the ice, stayed warm as he zoomed through the waters and soared effortlessly through the skies. When he reached his destination, the orange tinted darkness had penetrated the diamond cover, its evil having a sharp edge. And the hero grabbed him by the shoulders, yanking him out of the sanctified perimeter, ripping off his head, which remained suspended inside, inches above the maiden. The bulwark-of-goodness fought the headless aberration, pummeling him again into dust. Then, His goodness attaining an equally sharp edge, he reached in and yanked out the looming crown. It was dripping orange blood. The hero punched, but the head danced around him, mocking, exhausting the fighter’s energy, until finally, he reached out with lightning speed and grabbed it. Gouging out the eyes and squeezing the brain until it landed on the ground, a gooey mess with an abhorrent smell.

The legendary hero turned and caught his breath as he witnessed her majesty. He gathered her into his arms, softening towards her lips. As they touched, she breathed her sweetness into him and he reflected onto her, his strength as they merged and grew beyond the diamond glass. Never to be torn asunder.