Prologue (2): The Little Flower

Aeil's eyes widened as he gazed upon the grandiose abode, marveling at its prestige and size. He hurried excitedly toward the entrance, but his happy and frantic footsteps faltered as he looked at his muddied feet in sorrow. His eyes anxiously darted to the elder and back, filled with distress as they met the elder's mellowed gaze. The comforting assurance of the elder's subtle smile brought solace to Aeil. It was like a blanket—just the right size to snugly cover you from head to toe, giving a sense of comfort.

Aeil gleamed with confidence as he stepped forward with a little less hesitation than before, his body perfectly matching the rounded doors of the house, and stepped inside. The updraft of the doors opening and closing carried a sweet, familiar scent. Aeil teared up as a sense of nostalgia washed over him. He closed his eyes and relaxed.

"I am baking a pie. I hope you like apples... although, I don't think you could tell what it is made of with my baking skills. Hoho!" The elder grabbed Aeil's hand and guided him to the kitchen. Their laughter trailed behind them like a pleasant aroma.

As the two reached the oven, they stood and looked at it in deep thought, though for very different reasons. Aeil lost himself in reverie as he stood by the oven that produced a permeating scent; the elder ran his hand through his hair and grimaced at the sight of the oven.

"Hmm," the elder contemplated, "the oven was not that dark before…" he mumbled. The elder looked at Aeil with a worried expression as he cautiously opened the oven. With each slow departure from the seam, a ghastly black smog engulfed the room. The sickening smoke seemed to take the shape of a demon and attack them with its suffocating fumes. The elder, with a swift wave of his hand, cast a barrier around them and dispersed the smog with a blinding light emanating from his palms.

"Cough! Cough!" The elder viciously coughed, leaving blood behind. "Shit! Aeil, are you okay!?"

"Haha! Yes!" Aeil's jubilant scream pierced the air, his laughter echoing with unrestrained giddiness as the dissipating smoke unveiled an unrecognizable black stone. "Tada~" the elder sarcastically sang, showcasing his pie. "It looks... very appetizing, don't you think?" he said with a sharp swallow.

"Y-yeah! Totally!" Aeil replied.

"I think you should take the honor of the first bite, Aeil."

"No, no! How could I? The honor should go to the wonderful chef who prepared such a masterpiece!" Aeil replied, sweet-talking the elder.

"I suppose that makes sense," the elder shrugged, playing along with Aeil. Though he couldn't help but hesitate as he grabbed the pie—hard as a rock—and put it close to his mouth before looking at Aeil with pleading eyes and taking a bite.

CRUNCH.

The elder hastily spat out the bite and hacked the burnt crisps out of his throat. Aeil fell to the floor in laughter as the elder's eyes seemed to bulge out of his head. "Ahem! This was nothing," the elder coughed proudly. But behind his solemn front, he was a happy and proud elder, looking at the once helpless boy, rolling on the ground in laughter, not caring about the world around him.

He smirked and bit his cheek, "I'll have you know, my granddaughter would've killed to take a bite of that pie!" the elder jokingly reprimanded.

"The same one you mentioned earlier?" Aeil curiously responded.

"Yes," the elder seemed to float as he made his way to the living room and opened a window. "Her name is Elle. She's the most precious thing in the world. I can't wait for you to meet her!" The elder turned around and gestured to Aeil to get closer with a smile. "Do you see that little village right across from the rivers?" The elder pointed out the window as Aeil tried his best to see, standing on his tiptoes.

"I think so. The one with the different-colored roofs?"

"Yes! That is Hydralis Village! Elle is currently attending one of the scholar academies there—the prestigious Praeditus Academy!" the elder boasted, as Aeil replied with an unenthusiastic congratulation and applause. "It's quite the long journey to get up the mountains, so she can only visit me on her breaks or holidays. Before she returns, I'm trying to perfect my baking skills—her mother was a wonderful baker. Every time she visited, she would give me a handful of her cookbooks. Elle's mother was always on about, 'How will you take care of yourself if you can't even cook? You have a better chance of teaching a herd of donkeys, Phapaaffina1, than living your ascetic lifestyle!'" The elder looked at the ground with a hollow smile before continuing in a slower and much quieter voice. "They have been sitting like a mountain in my storage, never to be used, just collecting dust. After Elle's mother passed, she fell into a thick sea of depression…" The elder's eyes drifted off into the abyss. "I don't know how hard it'll be, but I don't mind smashing heaven and earth just to see her happy!"

Aeil got lost in the elder's words and clenched his jaw, trying to hide any emotion as he sat and watched the elder in a deep melancholy. "I'm learning how to bake just for the tiniest chance I could see Elle smile. But as you saw earlier, many of my attempts have been fruitless." The elder looked at Aeil with a pained smile as tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. "I'm a worthless son of a bitch, huh?"

Aeil got lost in the elder's mournful words and clenched his teeth to hide any emotion that was about to overflow. Like a cocoon waiting for its metamorphosis, Aeil sat in an overwhelming tension. He had felt no emotion like this one, or perhaps he never openly got to express them with others. Not knowing what to do, Aeil briskly consoled the elder with a hug around his legs—his arms being too small to fully wrap around them. The elder, devoid of emotion, squinted his eyes, which gleamed with the same deep gold as the powers he had shown earlier. Aeil looked at the elder, who resembled a meerkat observing its surroundings, surprised by his sudden change in aura.

Aeil shook the elder as he stood frozen in time, peering into the unknown abyss. "What's wrong?" Aeil shouted, with tears streaming down his face in panic. "Grandpa!!!" The elder shook out of his focus and directed his attention to Aeil. "W-what did you just call me?"

"I-I'm sorry. I won't call you that again!" The elder picked up Aeil and comforted him. "No, no, child. It's okay, I quite like that name." The elder sat Aeil back down and patted his head as he sat on a cushioned rocking chair adjacent to a homely fireplace at the center of the living room. "Aeil," the elder said softly, "do you want to hear a story?" The curious Aeil looked up at the elder and nodded his head as he followed the elder's gesture to sit down.

The elder leaned back in his cushioned chair, his gaze drifting toward the flickering flames of the fireplace. Aeil, still seated on the floor, looked up with rapt attention as the elder began his tale, his voice carrying a gentle warmth that mirrored the glow of the fire.

"Once upon a time, in a land far beyond any river and mountain, there was a village nestled in the heart of a vast and untamed forest. The village had a reputation for its vibrant flora. With each step you took, flowers of every hue painted the landscape in an undying spring. However, within the masterful mural, there lay a flower that stood out—a withered and lonely bloom."

Aeil's eyes gleamed with overwhelming curiosity as he waited for the elder to continue.

"This flower was unlike the others. It had tattered petals, and its once vibrant and variegated color had dulled to a somber gray. The villagers always condemned the flower, reminiscing about its once beautiful bloom and how its brilliance was no more."

Aeil sat in silence, his eyes filled with sympathy and sorrow. Before Aeil could say anything, the elder continued in a soft voice. "But on one wintery day, when the blizzards were violent, and the snow was binding, a young lady named Serena visited the village. Although unknown, Serena was a caring lady. Her good deeds often led her to become friends with anyone she met, and as she made her way through the village, she stumbled upon the flower. The flower was more weathered than before, and its color resembled that of a sea of ink; however, Serena's first thought wasn't of its appearance or to pick it up and throw it away like the other villagers, but to take care of it. Serena knelt down, her breath misting in the chilling winter air, and whispered to the flower. 'It's okay, I'm here for you. You don't have to worry anymore.' Her voice, gentle and warm, seemingly melted the snow around them, making all the flowers bloom, and filled this flower with hope."

The elder looked at Aeil and softened his eyes as Aeil reminded him of the flower. The same hope filled his eyes. The elder continued with a chuckle after seeing Aeil rocking back and forth with anticipation. "Serena came back every day to the young flower and watered it, cared for it, and always gave it encouragement. To the flower, Serena was like his mom. The flower didn't know what to do without her. The flower cherished every moment with Serena. And one day, the flower started to show its colors again! The other villagers marveled at the flower's growth. But that didn't matter; the only thing that did was Serena."

The elder's eyes wandered the room before locking with the gentle sparks of the fireplace.

"The little flower was eager to show Serena the progress he made. However, Serena didn't come that day. The flower got sad but stood in resolve, just as Serena had taught him. The next day, she didn't come; the following week, Serena didn't come; and finally, it was the fresh spring. All the flowers bloomed, but the little flower stood there, waiting for Serena."

The elder stopped and smiled at Aeil.

"What? Is that the end of the story, Grandfather?" Aeil shouted, irked by the cliffhanger. "What about Serena? What happened to her? And what about the flower?" Aeil's head rushed with so many questions, but they were met with a mellow silence from the elder.

"The—" The elder's voice cracked. "That's not important, Aeil. I want you to remember, no matter how dark or cold things may seem, with a little love and care, you too can bloom like that flower." Aeil couldn't muster up the words to yell at the elder for not telling him the rest of the story, but he couldn't speak at all.

Both Aeil and the elder sat in silence, their emotions mixed.

"Ahem, I believe it's time to go to bed!" The elder coughed. "We've had quite the eventful day, haven't we? I'll lead the way to your bedroom." The elder walked Aeil to his room, pointing out things around the house in hopes of helping Aeil feel comfortable. As they made it to the bedroom, Aeil was amazed by his surroundings. "This is so cool, Grandpa! I've never been in a room this big before!" The elder chuckled at Aeil's amazement and brought him to his bed. Although the elder didn't show it, he was on the brink of tears. He tried to hurry and tell Aeil goodnight before he couldn't suppress his emotions anymore. "Goodnight." As the elder turned his back to leave, Aeil pointed out a painting of a flower in the room's corner. "Hey, look! It's like the little flower in the story!" The elder looked at Aeil and let out a soft chuckle before leaving. "Sweet dreams." The elder patted Aeil on the head. "Goodnight, Grandpa!" Aeil responded. Before the elder could say anything, tears streamed down his face as he rushed out of the room.

As the elder left, Aeil studied his new home and smiled. As he looked around, he noticed that the flower painting was hanging crookedly. Aeil quietly got up, trying not to alarm the elder, and headed over to fix the painting. But when Aeil tried to straighten the painting, it fell, revealing another one: a young boy holding the hand of a lady with a basket of flowers.