8 Chapter 6.2: Flowers and Light

<Note that Uncle Prith's point of view is used here>

A drop of blood, followed by another.

A dead body, stacking up the pile.

A swing of my blade, ensued was a scream.

These rough sentences summarized my youth. I was the eldest offspring, so I had to meet my father's expectations by becoming the best swordsman in the city.

Did I knew who my enemy was? No, for it was not my job. My meaning lies with my sword, not my ears.

For years, it went that way. A life painted with crimson red.

Then all of a sudden, she came.

A bright woman cradling a flower named Evelynn.

She descended upon me with a color I've never seen before. It was bright and warm.

As she grew up, her colors grew many, and I would feel them-

Whenever she would hold my hand with her tiny, fragile little fingers-

Whenever she would climb a huge boulder and hang on a dangerous ledge-

Whenever she would make a mistake and sob with the most adorable hiccups-

And whenever she would cuddle beside me closely when thunder struck.

I do not know every single one, but I've definitely felt all of them. I tried to describe them but I couldn't.

One thing was magnificently clear though, I needed to protect her. I needed to protect and keep this flower that changed me.

Then, one day, the flower blossomed and insects arrived.

They wanted a sip of her sweetness, perhaps a sniff of her fragrance.

There were so many of them that the flower was starting to look bleak. After all, a flower will need thorns to survive from pests and I played the part excellently.

On another day, when I was about to bask in her presence once again, my heart sank to some bottomless pit inside me. She was picked up by a man with unusually dark skin. Naturally, as her thorn I played my part.

However, with her smile I knew instantly that he was no pest. He was a pollen, meant to further her growth. Maybe bear fruit. I just silently accepted the fact, and left her with a pendant.

Fortunately, there was also a light, another source of beautiful colors.

She was no Great Sol, but for me she shone brighter than him.

She herself was the one who brought my flower, the one who cradled and nurtured her growth. She was just as beautiful as her, perhaps her smile was even lovelier.

Her name was Isabelle.

She would brush her hand through my amber hair. At times when I came back from battle dyed in red, she would rather check my health with a warm embrace rather than look at me with contempt like the maids in our house do.

Whenever I feel down due to Father's nitpicks, Isabelle would dance with me in a song that I never understood but passionately felt.

And yet again, I felt feelings I've never felt before.

She was my only hope left, the only color I used to paint my canvas.

But when news of the flower disappearing reached her ears, her light vanished as well.

She grew dark. She went grey. She felt cold.

Did Isabelle really love me? Or was I just another hindrance? Did I not matter to her just as much as the flower did?

As questions piled up more and more, the hole grew deeper and deeper.

Once again, I felt a feeling I've never felt before. Unlike the others, this one I could describe clearly, for I felt it in battle as well.

Hate.

My former feelings and hate clashed. I didn't knew what prevailed, but many other things springed out from their wad. Perhaps it was a stalemate.

(Roughly a week prior-)

I just came back after a request from the King. It was about babysitting some of his goons as they gather war hostages from the outskirts. A tiresome job.

{Shing!}

A familiar pendant caught my attention. It was the same pendant that I left Evelynn a long time ago. It was dangling at the neck of a young man with tattered clothes.

I felt hope. Simply because I saw it again. But I also felt extremely unpleasant, since it wasn't at the hands of the owner.

However, I did not lose reason. I asked him where he got it. The little brat was annoying and ill-mannered, but I can tell through his eyes that he went through a lot.

Turns out, we were Uncle and nephew. Though faint, i felt a spark inside me.

Bearing the excellent news, I went to her to spread the word with excitement.

"Isabelle, there's something important-"

"What is it? Make it quick." she answered coldly. I got used of how she interrupts my sentence everytime I speak to her.

At the mere mention of the name 'Evelynn', her lifeless eyes were revived. I felt irritated, not at my flower, but at her.

She took the young man in and for a day, the house was warm again. However, the distance between Isabelle and I still felt cold.

I told myself to not be stupid enough to hope for something, but everytime I would see her lovely smile, it took me back to the distant past. Afterwards, I find myself praying to a god that did not exist.

It was funny. A knight who feared no man was afraid of speaking to a mere old lady.

Finally, I started to be honest to myself and approached her.

Eh, it was hard. I tried, she tried too. But there was still a barrier around her.

A day passed, we greeted each other. She was cold as usual and I was still reluctant but hey, any progress is still progress no matter how small.

Another day, we spoke about Adam and how adorable he was. And smart. Little kid's got a bright future.

As days passed, the gap grew closer and closer and after a week, I found myself back together with her. There were still strong feelings of the past but I believed that they were just like the scars in my body. They might look strange but they don't hurt anymore.

"Hello Prith." she greeted me with a smile. How I missed it.

It was raining that day, but the downpour was rather tame. She sat at her usual spot, and I returned her greeting with a hug.

"So, how is Adam?" I sat beside her.

"Still precious. The child is observant, he likes dilly-dallying around and touching my possessions here and there."

"A child's mind is curious after all. Pay it no mind."

It was silent for a while but unlike last time where the mood was awkward, it was... pleasant.

"Prith, can you help me?" she gazed at me with a troubled look.

"Yes. What is it Isabelle?" I attentively listened.

"I… I was selfish."

"What do you mean?" I chuckled because her sentence seemed silly.

"I know why Adam came here." she said with a serious face.

"… What do you mean?" My face lost its smile.

"Rumors about a warrior who is looking for her sister are roaming around. They called the warrior by his name. Adam the Vagabond."

"…" I couldn't respond. So the flower had another child. And mother… she-

{Roar!}

Thunder echoed from a distance. The skies were turning dark and the rain was intensifying.

Before I knew it, I found myself yelling at her before walking out the door.

In my room, I wondered why.

Was it because of me again? Am I bipolar?

And then the answer came to me.

The hate never really disappeared. They were neither wounds nor scars, they packed in a jar called fear covered by a lid called ignorance and bliss. It is only now that I realized, jars and lids can only contain so much.

When I was about to apologize, it was far too late.

I saw her. She was weak and dying, everyone was crying. After everyone and Adam left, I couldn't face her.

"Prith." She longs for me. I can see it in her eyes. How utterly foolish I was.

Words couldn't find its way to my mouth, so my mother stood up despite looking like she would break anytime.

"Can you grant me a request?" she hugged me. I could feel her trembling.

I simply nodded. She put a hand of mine in her waist and another at her shoulder. Then, she wrapped both her hands around my pelvic.

"When I used to live in The Great City of France at the west of Azaquell, my mother would sing me a song. It calmed me down whenever thunder struck. Of course, even she was afraid of thunder so to solve both problems, we danced to her song."

Gently, I felt her apply pressure to my body. Then, I simply followed it.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Four.

Without my mind into it, I found myself dancing with her. There was no word spoken but I could hear her faintly hum. It was… lovely. She shined so brightly in my eyes.

After a while, she stopped humming. But i could still hear it, and perhaps she did as well, so we didn't pause.

"I want you to help the child in his task. Can you promise me that?" she said while we danced.

Perhaps I didn't respond to her because I was so absorbed… and happy. I wanted to forget.

"…"

"… Did you know that this song was quite popular in the Royal Capital of Paris? People used to sing it there all the time. Aren't you curious of what it's called?"

"…"

"It was called 'La vie en Rose', composed by the most lovely singer."

For a while, we continued to dance. It was just a short while, but my heart beated as many as it would an entire person's life.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Four.

Before I knew it, I was dancing all by myself.