The Flower

The dreadful silence, the looming presence, the distant thunder of a foreboding storm. In the nightmare of a world, there born a child. Of little radiance she shed, of wails of the damned she bled. To a lonely poor mother whose husband has left her to wept.

Euglith, the name of a flower most loved. They were like lilies. They stood out in the greenery, the eye of everyone's attention. They were sought for their lovely bright petals, their bloom became a sign for common bachelor festivals in villages around the land.

To find the small victories in the gushing darkness, the things that keep a person sane in a world where you were smaller than ants. Euglith never thought of any grand ideals when she still drank her mother's blood, her mother who was a shape-shifting witch who had already uprooted parts of what she is.

People who are titled as 'Dyr' were not exactly accepted in every part of the world. The objective of someone becoming a Dyr is to uproot the literal embodiment of yourself inside. An unnatural process, tampering and molding with something beyond their comprehension.

First, to become animals, to become children of the beasts. Then, to dismorph themselves beyond belief and become more. Transcend.

Dyrs were commonly seen as sub-human, feral, megalomaniacs and monsters to some as they were just inches away from becoming Farblights. Some had become arrogant to their supposed ascension from humans, some had lost themselves in pursuit of power, most were shunned for such a taboo thing.

Every record of learning to uproot one's self were stricken and burned, for the safety of the preserved peace. The body was not a catalyst to be used for it will warp under the dense flow of energy, so was written in law.

But of course, they could not stricken the mouths and tongues of the learned. And Euglith, learned from no one else than her mother who turned her blood into warm milk for her child. A frail mother, face buried in fur.

A child festers dreams that can carry to reality, they were the next ones to carry the banner after the old had withered and many dreams did the young human Euglith had. To become a bird and fly so freely with the rest of the flock. To dive into the ocean and become a dolphin to explore the vast and extravagant corals below. To stay with her mother, holding her hand in tender warmth.

But what would a child who had just linked her other hand with the roots of her soul do when the hand interlocked with her mother had gone cold? Shake, wail, cry, never to let go as the hunters slowly approached. Pull, pull, uproot herself in the waking of her emotions.

"Mom..!" Her hands went through her, yet she still tried to shake her awake. "Wake up..! I… I scared them all away... P-please... "

The night was cold, the moon was nowhere in sight and the flame from the sword that pierced her mother's heart had faded. Yet the smoke remained, putrid air smoldering the dried corpse of the ashen hunters, circling around the dead mother as if attempting to hug it. Embracing whatever warmth that was left.

Through the odd daylight, through the dark moonlight. Through autumn and winter, until spring arrived. Just in time for the euglith flowers to bloom. Around the gray grass and corpses buried under piles of ash, there laid a sleeping woman with her eyes closed. The euglith flowers looked as if it were gently cradling her, waiting for her to wake up.

And the Euglith, the spectre that left behind her humanity in those flowers, went to live a childish life full of dreams. She flew up and above with the birds who asphyxiated in the fog she brought and she swam and witnessed the coral reefs gray and polluted. She never found another warm hand, she never could touch again and even if she could, it was always cold.

Incomplete, and uprooted, Euglith wandered everywhere as a poltergeist-like creature. Every villager ran away, every hunter laced their blades in this familiar energy to cut her down and every putrid smoke exuded from her body was made to strangle each and every single one of them until they choke. Their bodies were nothing but sandbags.

She just wanted warmth. Smoke traced back to fire, and she was just searching hers. She just wanted to find it. Home, home somewhere. She missed it, she missed whatever home she was searching for. Whatever this elusive figure her mind had fogged itself over, fraternizing and obsessing over.

Euglith succumbed to lunacy. The final nail in the coffin for Dyrs who have turned into Farblights. The point of no return for their humanity.

Not all transformations are the same. Some take the form instantly, some slowly divulge over time. Some less human in appearance, some able to blend in with society indistinguishably. Yet they all stem from the same thing.

The want of the humans before they become inhumans.

Euglith wanted warmth. Euglith needed warmth. A mother, a mother to dot over her. So she looked for one, and replaced the other child in her way. House after house, family after family, each child dried up like a prune as they died off like flies to swat.

That was until, a shining light pierced the fog for the first time.

She had pretended to be another child to another mother in a village yonder from the kingdom. The mother was caring, fed her, loved her, loved her very much. Plenty of times, plenty of attention. So caring even when she was coughing her heart out.

Just as she hugged her ever so familiarly, the door slammed open. A thin sword sliced her apparition body away. A young man, tall and golden, radiant like the sun itself. Another hunter to hurt her, another hunter she'll kill.

And everything else after that, was a blur.

All she knew was that by the end of it, she was nothing but ashes spread over a grassy flowery field. The sun grazing her being never looked so clear for the years that she had roamed, all until a shadow loomed over her remains.

"Dearest Farblight, calmst thou?"

The weird hero stood above her, speaking in such an odd dialect she never heard before. The piles of dust shook, trying to form a solid form yet it could not. The golden-haired man smiled.

"Easy. You would yet be able to manifest again." He said. "Rest, the eugliths are in season now. Do you feel them around you?"

It took her a moment to realize she was casted around the centre of a flowerbed. She could not feel them, but she could see them. Their petals were colourful, her favourite was the red one just next to her. Every time the wind came, it would dance gently with it.

It was lovely. She liked it.

She was not smoke anymore, she was a flower now. Basking in sunlight, the fresh air and the colourful meadow. A moment that she would never forget ever.

Until the weird hero stood up.

"I must depart." He turned to look at the sentient pile of ash. "Euglith, yes, your name is Euglith from now on."

Euglith. A Farblight usually wouldn't even remember their own name anymore. Whether it'd be the same name they had before or not. A poltergeist of smoke would take anything, would it?

Eugliths weren't only known as flowers to indicate the coming of some festival. In a sense, they symbolize rebirth, particularly the white ones. The weird hero gave her the same name her late mother did. Somehow, it brought her warmth, warmth that she was searching for this whole time.

The ashes vibrated and shook, as if to notify excitement. The man chuckled.

"It seems you find it favourable. I am most glad of it." He readjusted his cloak, the two blades he carried sat on each side. "May I trust you to cater to this meadow?"

Though most would kill a Farblight out of mercy, there were few who chose to relinquish them to a new purpose. Most died in foolishness, but there was the smaller percent of them who succeeded.

The dust moved again. The weird hero takes it as an agreement.

"Ah, thank you. There will be many who will want to see this place again tomorrow. I promise you, Euglith, I will return as well to see this lovely meadow again." Then, he turned his back. "Until then, Euglith. I will not keep you waiting for long."

The radiant sun left the hill, each step carefully avoiding a flower. Euglith was still ashes for hours before she could reform again into smoke. In her wake, the grayness covered every petal in the meadow before being carried into the wind.

She did not want to take care of a flowery hill. She wanted warmth. He was warm, the heat to her smoke. Comfort, comfort like no other like the sun was to a flower.

The spectre smiled, a smile genuine with glee. She'll take that warmth for herself.