Become Julius Caesar and walk the streets of ancient Rome. There, in those garbage-filled streets, find a scroll and read it. The scroll will remind you of who you once were, before you were transformed across times and identities. Become a tyrant, then an emperor, then a divine king. Leave a legacy that will last fourteen hundred years.
At the very tail end of that legacy, dangle a single seed on the clumsy, precarious edge of the Byzantine Empire. The seed will fall and catch the wind, blowing across the Aegean Sea to land in Cyprus. There it will take root and grow into a tree no one has seen before.
A little less than six hundred years later, that tree, that majestic and unknown tree still anointed with the name and history of Caesar himself, whose adopted son commissioned the Aeneid simply to prove that the family was descended from Venus -- that strange and terrible tree that has silently watched the chaos of history and done nothing to sway humankind to reason -- that strange quiet sage of a tree will bear one fruit and one fruit only: a single, perfect cupcake.
Originally posted to my new DreamWidth recipe journal. You can comment there using your LiveJournal ID and password, thanks to the spooky Internet magic of OpenID.