There are tales of fruit that grants wisdom, of apples that bestow eternal life, and of trees that whisper secrets older than time itself.

But there is one fruit, one golden apple, that never fell.

It hung upon the Tree of Knowledge, untouched by mortals, untouched by gods.

It was offered, but never taken.
It was desired, but never touched.
It was meant to fall, but it never did.

For centuries, it remained, floating between the realms of what was and what could be.

And the reason, traveler?

Because the moment it touched the ground…

The world would never be the same.

I know this because I tried to take it once.

And I still regret what I learned that day.

The Tree That Should Not Exist

I have seen many strange things in my lifetime.

A river that flowed through time itself.
A library where books wrote themselves as you read them.
A city of giants that vanished in a single night.

But none of them haunted me as much as the Golden Apple.

The fruit that never fell.

The fruit that refused to be taken.

The fruit that, even the gods, feared.

The Journey to the Hidden Orchard

It was not easy to find.

The tree did not belong to any world.

It was said to be in the Hesperides, the garden of the golden apples, where the daughters of night guarded their immortal fruits.

Others claimed it stood in Eden, a remnant of the first paradise, where only fools dared to seek its wisdom.

And yet, neither of these places were its true home.

Because the tree did not have a home.

It was always somewhere else, always on the edge of where reality frayed, where the boundary between the known and the unknowable blurred.

I found it by accident.

Or perhaps, it found me.

The Apple That Floated Between Time

The tree was ancient, its bark etched with symbols older than words, its roots stretching beyond sight.

And there, at its highest branch, was the apple.

Not hanging.
Not resting.
Floating.

It hovered just above the branch, turning slowly in the air, shimmering with a golden light not of this world.

The wind moved around it, but never touched it.

The earth called to it, but it did not fall.

It was meant to fall, I could feel it.

And yet, it never did.

Because something—someone—had made sure it never would.

The Prophecy of the Unfallen Fruit

At the base of the tree, a figure stood waiting.

She was not human.

Not entirely.

Her presence was both there and not there, shifting like the flickering of candlelight, her robes woven from moonlight and shadow.

“You should not be here, Merlin,” she said.

Her voice was soft, yet vast, as if it carried the weight of a thousand forgotten truths.

“You see the apple. But do you know what it is?”

I looked up at it, my heart tightening.

“It is from the Tree of Knowledge.”

“It holds the wisdom of gods and men.”

“It has waited for someone to take it.”

She smiled sadly.

“No.”

“It has waited… to fall.”

The Apple’s Curse

“Why does it not fall?” I asked.

“Because,” she whispered, “the moment it touches the earth, it will change everything.”

“How?”

“No one knows.”

“Not even the gods.”

I felt a chill settle into my bones.

For the first time in my long life, I realized something terrifying.

Even the most powerful beings in existence did not know what this apple would do.

It was not simply forbidden knowledge.

It was unknowable knowledge.

The knowledge that had never been written, never been spoken, never been revealed.

And now, it was offered to me.

All I had to do…

Was touch it.

The Moment I Almost Took It

I raised my hand.

Not because I wanted power.

Not because I wanted to rule.

But because I could not bear not knowing.

I had spent my life seeking knowledge, uncovering the lost and forgotten, peering into the depths of time itself.

And here, before me, was a truth that had never been known.

I reached out.

The apple shimmered, as if it could sense my intent.

It wanted to fall.

It had waited to be taken.

And the moment I touched it—

The world shook.

The Glimpse Beyond Reality

I did not see the future.

I did not see the past.

I saw something worse.

I saw all possibilities at once.

Every choice.
Every path.
Every timeline, every outcome, every ending and beginning woven together in a tapestry too vast to comprehend.

I saw worlds that never were.
I saw realities that had been erased.
I saw myself—in a thousand different forms, a thousand different lives, in some where I never existed at all.

And then, in a single, shattering moment…

I saw what would happen if the apple fell.

I do not have words for it.

Only this—

The world would not survive.

Not as it is.

Not as it was.

Not as it ever could be.

The Decision That Had to Be Made

I let go.

The golden apple remained, floating above the branch.

Waiting.

The woman nodded, as if she had always known I would not take it.

“You understand now.”

“Some knowledge was never meant to be known.”

“Some choices were never meant to be made.”

And then, just as she had appeared—

She was gone.

Leaving me alone beneath the tree.

Alone with the apple.

Alone with the truth.

A truth I could never speak.

Because if I did…

It might finally fall.

Merlin’s Final Words

I never returned to the tree.

I do not know if it still stands.

Perhaps, even now, the apple still floats above its branch, waiting for someone brave—or foolish—enough to take it.

But if you ever find yourself beneath a tree where the wind does not touch the leaves…

Where a golden apple hovers in the air, untouched by time…

Do not take it.

Because once you do…

You cannot undo what comes next.